Carl said, “I just hate it when small animals parade their cuteness about—pompous flaunting, that’s what it is.”

I replied, “You have been known to ham it up in front of the camera.”

“Well, of course I have, but it’s for a good cause.”

“That would be…?”

“I’m promoting your book, The Five Names.”

“And I appreciate it, Carl. I’m certain that your efforts have resulted in a number of sales, the exact quantity of which would be difficult to calculate.”

“Speaking of promotional opportunities, why don’t we get a shot here?” Carl jumped up onto the rail. “The vastness of the Grand Canyon will remind people of the staggering scope of your story.”

I aimed, the camera clicked and I showed him the result.

“This will not do.”

“Why not? It’s a fine rendition showing the scale of the gorge.”

In an agitated voice, Carl replied, “The dog, what happened to the dog?”

To satisfy my Corgi, I made a few camera adjustments and re-shot.

Carl said, “Much better. This picture will sell books.

I saw his wagging tail and his eager smile, but replied, “Carl, do you know how many you’ve already had?”

“I haven’t been counting, but I don’t want to say why.”

“Well, you are at your limit.”

Carl’s smile didn’t fade. “That’s alright. If you feel like you should turn down a simple request from your loyal friend, go ahead. I can live without it. Case closed.”

Somehow, I doubted that.

“Did I mention that I’ve been re-reading your excellent book, The Five Names?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well, I have. And I didn’t make it through the first paragraph before coming upon an interesting point.”

“That would be…?”

“Can I have a biscuit?”

“No.”

Carl didn’t pause. “In the part called, The Author’s Confession, you said that despite having never met Inkie, or visiting Idmar, you ‘posses quite an intimate knowledge of both him and the pace in which he lived.’ You seem to intimate that you have ‘sources.’ Can I have a biscuit?”

“No.”

“I’ve read the entire book, several times, (good job, by the way) and have found no answer to this mystery.”

“That’s because you haven’t read the third book. There’s a character in it who will…. Oops.”

Carl’s face lit up. “You mean to tell me that there are other books in the series?”

“Well, ah, there might be. I mean it’s possible that…. But please don’t….”

Carl said, “Do you know what premium doggy biscuits are good for besides filling my stomach?”

“What?”

“Gluing my mouth shut. Now, can I please have a biscuit?”

I suppose you can guess what my answer was.

A lick of mustard and a few cookie crumbs later, I approached a glass jar. “Perhaps it’s relish,” I said to myself. But, what I saw next made me quiver. In that instant I knew how Inkie felt at many points in the book, The Five Names.

Unlike me, Inkie was afraid of many things. One of his greatest terrors was that he would happen upon a Loman-eating beast, who would devour him for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, whatever the case might be.

Throughout the book, he heard them stalking the corridors of darkness. Often they shrieked aggressively and ground their teeth to points likely so sharp that they were invisible to the human eye. Very scary.

Did Inkie ever encounter the vile creatures? If I told, I would spoil the book. I can only say that I, Carl, have faced the evil-in-the-jar and have survived with my soul intact.

P.S. The following is a clever subliminal marketing tool

Read the Five Names

Read the Five Names

Read the Five Names

Read the Five Names

Rejected idea number one: Carl said, “We could tell everyone that if they don’t buy one of your books I will bite one of their ankles. Right one or left, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Carl, that so negative. And, it’s not at all like you. You are kind and generous, not liable to hurt a fly.”

“Well, I have nipped at a few mosquitoes in my day. But, all-in-all, you are correct. I suppose no one would believe that threat.”

Rejected idea number two: Carl said, “We could tell them that a giant bunny rabbit has taken me captive and is demanding a ransom. He will only release me after a dozen cases of the latest book have been purchased.”

“Honestly, Carl, do we need to resort to trickery?”

“This is advertizing,”

An acceptable idea: I said, “Why don’t we tell them what readers have said?”

“Like what?”

“Like the person who said, ‘I don’t usually read books in the fantasy genre, but I really enjoyed, The Five Names.’

“That’s a good one.”

“Or the reader who said, ‘The book reminds me of, The Chronicles of Narnia.’”

“That’s wonderful company.”

“Then it’s agreed? No negative advertizing?”

“Agreed—at least for now.”

“I was watching a TV show when I learned about a near-earth asteroid that contains an immense amount of gold. Naturally, I thought of Robert Hansen’s book, The Five Names. I realized that if I could wrestle that asteroid down to earth, we could offer a chunk of gold with every book purchase, thus boosting sales considerably.

“I deemed that a catapult would be the best way to thrust myself in to outer space and capture the gold. While searching for parts to complete my launching-devise, I became entangled in a strange apparatus. That’s my story.”

Robert’s version:

“It never fails. Every time we make custard, it’s the same. We try to hide it, or cover up the aroma, but Carl’s nose is so finely-tuned. Well, this time, while searching the kitchen, he became tangled up. Caught—red pawed! (dog version of ‘red-handed’)

“I’ll still share my custard with Carl, but this time he won’t be eating all of it.”

Carl often rifles through my computer files, searching for stories I’ve written that are currently unavailable to the public. You might say that his life-goals center around what I’ve composed. So, I was surprised to capture this shot, proving that Carl is also interested in baseball history.

Carl expresses interest in our galaxy.

I replied, “You do realize that you’ve been drinking sparkling cider, don’t you?”

“I just went a little overboard.”

“A person can’t get tipsy from sparkling cider.”

“Please say you’ll forgive me.”

“Carl, I’m trying to explain….”

“Please.”

I wasn’t making any progress. Time to shif my approach. “Okay, Carl. I wagged my finger at him. “But see that it doesn’t happen again.”

Carl smiled. “Thank you.”

After much searching Carl finally found a hot tube that was just his size.