Untitled chapter
1
It was way back in 1974. A pilot for a new TV show from Rod Serling was being filmed at Universal. Everything was set up and ready to go for the first take of the scene, the actors knew their lines, their marks, the lighting had been adjusted, the cameras and sound were ready to roll. Everything was in place except for one minor detail.
“The box, Larry,” Mr Serling said to the prop master, “put the box in the middle of the coffee table so we see it in the low shot.”
Larry Sherman loved his work, loved his life. He was a happy and easy going guy without a bad thought or a harsh word for anyone. He did as he was asked, removing the eye catching cuboid from the shelf and placing it on the coffee table in the middle of the ‘room’. He glanced over his shoulder at the cameras before a final adjustment, attention to detail, an important aspect of his job and one that he took great pleasure from.
Larry spent a lot of his own time locating and acquiring various items for ‘the prop shop’ as he called his department and enjoyed the periodic inventory and re-cataloguing of his stock. This particular item though, was not one of his finds and must’ve been recent, as he didn’t remember it being in the last inventory. It was an alluring little container; 6x3x3 inches, mahogany, finished in gold trim and inlaid with several tasteful jewels.
Larry noticed the hinges were showing and was about to turn it, front facing, when something compelled him to look inside. Conscious of the seconds going by, in one fluent motion he held it, spun it, flipped up the lid and looked…empty. There was nothing but an inscription on the inside of the lid, which he read aloud as he put the box back in position.
“Manoko...Cenatabu...ad...finais...apros...septu”
An opaque fog began to stream from the box and as it broadened and began to rise, its colour gradually changed through grey and lilac before settling in a pale magenta. The set looked like a cotton candy machine had exploded and people began to berate poor Larry.
“Damn it, Larry” “What did you do?”
Larry was as puzzled as any of them. Some thought it was state of the art Hollywood magic; special effects. The fog began to dissipate and then with a blinding, magnesium like flash a man appeared, a very big man. There were some gasps, some exclamations of surprise, questions “Who is that?” “Who invited the Minotaur?” laughter and even some applause.
In the midst of all this, nobody noticed that the cloud had sent one of the actors into an asthma attack...for the big man was still growing; his bull like body bursting with muscle and getting taller too; 6 feet, 7 feet, then people began to get scared and to cry out in horror. The beastly figure scanned the room with his bulbous, yellowy eyes and felt around for some energy, because he had to feed off the ill will and bad vibes of the one who summoned him. But there wasn’t any, for Larry Sherman had none.
So the demon began to shrink. Just as he had grown he slowly got smaller, before the eyes of the mesmerised and horrified crowd; writhing as he went, down to about 3 feet and then the withering head shuddered, his eyes rolled and from his mouth, a long tongue flopped, before another flash sent him on his way and the lid snapped shut.
Seconds went by before anyone spoke, and then everyone spoke; a cluttered crescendo of babbling, disbelieving chatter filled the stage until Rod yelled “Quiet!” All eyes were on him and through gritted teeth he snarled “Now, get that God damn thing outta here.”
He meant it, too and as everyone else turned their attention to the asthmatic actor, Larry obliged and got it out of there. Still reeling from the bizarre happening, the next couple of hours were a daze and he could never fully recall his journey; how he left the building, only stopping for his jacket because his keys were in the pocket. Or how he carefully placed the cursed object on the front seat and drove very cautiously, glancing at the box every 10 seconds to make sure nothing was happening. He had no idea how he ended up in West Hollywood and gave the box to ‘some guy in an antique shop on Laurel, or maybe Fairfax.’
The following day, when filming was over, Rod asked Larry if he could take a look at “That darned box”. Larry explained that he’d got rid of it, “Like you asked”
“I meant get it off the set”
The two of them took a trip and spent a several hours trying to find the ‘weird little store’ as Larry had described it, but it was in vain. He trawled his memory, they looked, they stopped for coffee and Larry trawled some more, but to no avail and they gave it up.
“Probably for the best.” Larry said, and all the while the ornate little box was sitting in the window of ‘Holly’s world of curios’. There it sat for another 2 years, much seen and much admired...but never bought; several hundred days of sunlight and the colours never fading.
