up like a bolt and added, “By the way, it’s rumored that Noshabakenning is Shultz’s alter ego.”
Now I was really confused, “Shultz who?”
“Oh! You know, Mr. Shultz.” Jesse pointed off down the block. “Over at Shultz’s Grocery, except it’s really Shultz’s Beer Parlor when you’re in the 81st dimension.”
Well, I knew Mr. Shultz who owned the small residential grocery store in our neighborhood, we went there a lot to get ice cream cones, candy bars and sodas, but I’d never thought of him as the owner of a beer parlor. I suddenly realized there were a lot of things I didn’t know.
“Well, how do spacemen invoke Klono’s protection?” I asked.
Jesse was thoughtful. “Well, let’s see. Uh… when Parker and I first crash landed here we played some happy music.” Jesse smiled at me and winked. “Klono just loooves happy music. Parker had his kazoo and played to the tune of, ‘On the Road to Mandalay,’ while I recited this verse.”
“In the far off dimness
In the far flung mist of time
In the starry hues and forms
Where lies in peace and love
Of right and life and truth
Let truth reign in these Portals
Let Glory thus rise again.”
Jesse scratched his head. “I think that’s how it went. Anyway, to conclude the ceremony we had a drink of varnish and then made a toast.”
“Varnish?” I burst out laughing.
“Yeah,” Jesse smiled, “Varnish — it’s the Martians favorite drink!”
I laughed again and said, “Okay, okay, that’s all pretty good, but now tell me about The Little Men.”
Jesse twinkled. “Ah yes, The Little Men, they’re quite a favorite of mine too. Well, you see the problem with Klono using The Little Men as his messengers is that they are often wildly unreliable and frequently get side tracked when on a mission. Sometimes they abuse their role as emissaries by getting into all sorts of trouble and creating chaos. They can be real tricksters. When they’re not on official business delivering messages to other worlds and planets, what they really like to do is hang about on sky hooks at Shultz’s Beer Parlor and swim around in the cans of varnish that he leaves for them atop the bar.”
“Cans of varnish!” I yelped and laughed as my mind’s eye conjured up images of the little green stick men swimming around in cans of varnish, doing the backstroke, and tossing beach balls back and forth. “What else do they like to do?” I chuckled.
“Well, they love to talk and chatter away nonsensically about anything and everything. It was said that eons ago the great god, Stryf Thesaurus, loved them so much that he bestowed the gift of language upon them— and they haven’t stopped talking since.” Jesse winked at me and continued. “Let’s see, they’re keen on playing musical instruments and they absolutely love to march in parades. They’re best sport is to strike a match and light up tiny canon bombs, you know those little round black ones? They like to throw them at your head to get your attention.”
At that I laughed so hard I literally fell off the tree stump and rolled around in the grass until my stomach was aching. Egging me on, Jesse chuckled and said between snickers, “ They utterly delight in beating you at a game of ‘Craps’ and the more chaos they can cause, the better, I mean if something has gone wrong you can be sure that The Little Men are at the bottom of it!” “And,” he added, “…their favorite tool is the Monkey Wrench!”
”The Monkey Wrench?” I yelped.
“Yep! They love to throw them into things to mess em’ up.”
Alas, that was the last straw. I got the giggles so bad that Jesse had to cover my mouth and hold me so as not to awaken the sleeping neighbors, all the while chuckling to himself.
When I finally calmed down, Jesse told me about the vast and marvelous alternate world of the Martian Empire that existed mostly in the 81st dimension. It was fascinating! The 81st dimension, by the way, just happens to coincide with a four block square area of our very own neighborhood, and that was where Jesse and Parker engaged in most of their adventures. Well! I was amazed. It was as though he and Parker and his other exiled friends, Slug Sherman, Spike Morgan and Shorty Runyon, could pass through some sort of invisible barrier and arrive in the 81st dimension simply by taking a walk down our street. Jesse said that the Star Map of the 81st dimension hung low in the night sky directly above us and what really surprised me most was that the Milky Way in the configuration of the Star Map, was within walking distance and hung right over the intersection of Pershing and Murdock street, exactly a half a block from our home at 548 N. Dellrose. He said that Shultz’s Grocery store could become Shultz’s Beer Parlor when you were in the 81st dimension, and that they were one in the same.
“But,” I asked, “How do you guys get into the 81st dimension?”
Jesse spoke musingly. “Ah well Lee, it’s sort of like imagination. Imagination can be a very powerful thing. It’s an entirely separate world with a life of its own, and if you want too bad enough, you can go there. Someone once said, ‘If you can conceive of something, then it’s possible.’ I believe that and feel that just because we grow up it doesn’t mean we have to lose our dreams.” Jesse shook his head, “Most adults are really just little kids with old faces anyway.”
I had to smile at that. Jesse had a strange kind of wisdom, but it was wisdom all the same. Later I thought about what Jesse had said and wondered if someday I’d have enough wisdom and imagination to enter into the 81st dimension in the alternate world of the Martian Empire.
Jesse and Parker take “A Cosmic Walk.”
CHAPTER 2
THE MIGHTY MOSCOVITCH
Later that night Jesse told me about the Dark Ages of Mars. The Dark Ages of Mars was a very dark time indeed. It seemed that way back in AL- Five Billion there was a shadowy territory called Sytris Major. Sytris Major was a wild and terrible place filled with many strange ferocious beasts and creatures. The whole region was so dangerous that hardly anyone would enter therein. At times it was cautiously traveled by bands of marauding Nomads and once in a while by a brave Hero like, The Mighty Moscovitch.
Now The Mighty Moscovitch as you can imagine by his name was a very big man, not only in size, but also in his heart. The Mighty Moscovitch’s name by the way, should always be written in red ink or in some way be made distinctive. Jesse said that
