• The Song of Forrest
    By: Merchant of Menace


    Forrest Krauser. That was his name, Forrest Krauser.
    I had never known anything about the man until a gigantic family reunion was scheduled to take place. I hadn’t ever socialized with my family much, not out of hatred, nor dislike, it was just that the rest of my family and me wouldn’t talk to each other, especially if out of walking or driving range, (the only family members of that range to me were Amy Corson, and Phil Fellister) most having more important business matters to attend to, being so rich, and the rest, such as I, being so common, were shunted aside and ignored, put in second till an important occasion would occur such as this. It wasn’t that they thought of as insignificant or useless, if one rich member needed a shoulder to cry on, a commoner would be there, just the same vice versa, it was just that they found business as an important factor for well-being, and if an opportunity was open, which was usually the case, nothing, not even family, should get in the way.
    Just like the last time we had a reunion of this proportion, every phone in the family had rung like mad, so much incessant ringing, I had almost considered unplugging the phone; however, since I lived alone, with only two family members in my reach, I found it as an opportunity to talk to family members out of range. Besides, it had been so long since I had spoken with Cory, Mike, Louis, and Hannah Surlrus, as well as Joseph, Tim, Mary, and Sam Arenson, and many more from my extensive family, so the plug remained in the wall, allowing the phone to continue its resonant ringing.
    When I had first heard the name, Forrest Krauser, from Tim, I had thought little of it. There were always at least 5 new members for each reunion, what would make him so special, I had no idea.
    “Probably just a close relative of Tim’s,” I thought to myself, as I heard him ramble on about the many other family members, “or even the head of the family!” who I had never seen, nor heard name of, usually due to either being crowded by more important members, or out due to sickness.
    When I had hung up with Tim, I had never thought I’d here the name again; yet without delay, as soon as I had let go of the phone, it had rung again, and just like Tim, Arthur had said the name, Forrest Krauser.
    I didn’t know for sure what it was about that name. There was nothing out of the normal about the name, nothing queer about it; however, despite this small fact, the name none the less sent a slight chill down my spine. The second time hearing it was a bit off to me, as well as it being right after the other, making it feel as though it was an admonition. I took it, none the less, as a strange coincidence, feeling foolish to believe such a forewarning existing about a person I only heard of for the second time.
    After my talk with Arthur, just like with Tim, almost spontaneously, someone else would call, and mention the increasingly concerning name, till after the 6th time, I could stand no longer to hear the name, not receiving any other information other than the arrival of the being named such a highly respected title.