BOB
by Tegon Maus
Genre – Sci-fi (soft)
My Review
The star protagonist in this story is Peter Anderson. Or is he? He used to be a top reporter. Just needs that one great story to get back there. Maybe the piece about strange lights in the sky will do it for him.
It wasn’t long before I was thinking, “What about Bob?” The title is Bob. Who is Bob? I found out soon.
Peter gets his story when he discovers the girl, her hands nailed down to a table. With the help of the mysterious Bob, they rescue her, she quickly vanishes, and things go sideways.
Bob. What can I say about Bob. The easy things – he’s a Russian immigrant, now an American citizen (I think), and a taxi driver.
But there’s something fishy about Bob. He has these cousins. Different ones for different situations, from breaking and entering, to muscle, to aliens. He sure has a lot of “cousins.” And lots of connections.
Not only is Bob a mystery, so is his beat up taxi. To look at it, you’d think it was junk. That’s what Peter thinks when he gets in and the car won’t start. These two simply words from Bob, “Is Belt”, get them out of more than one sticky situation. Like Bob, the car is more than meets the eye.
When my brain wasn’t spinning trying to figure out who was what, I was laughing. There’s so much humor. Bob has some rituals that he uses repeatedly throughout the story, and they never get old. I found myself waiting for each one, and had some fits of giggles.
Aside from the humor, there’s a deep plot. It starts simply and soon develops into a fascinating mystery fraught with action and danger. There is a science fiction aspect to it, but nothing too complicated, and it adds to the intrigue.
There’s a mish mash of colorful characters to meet, plenty of humor, and lots of action and mystery. I was quickly drawn into the story and held hostage until the last page. The end makes me think more books will be coming. I sure hope so, as I’m still wondering about Bob, and…..and so many other things.
5 Stars
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Enjoy this Excerpt – This is one of those signature rituals that made me giggle every time.
“His English not so good,” Bob added, wiggling his hands dismissively.
“Sounded damn good to me,” I said honestly.
“Bob understands. Bob’s friend speak Spanish?” he asked with a little annoyance in his voice, threading his fingers through his hair in frustration.
“Nope. Can’t say as I do,” I answered, folding my arms.
“How you say… no speak Spanish?” he asked, folding his arms as well.
“No habla Hispano.”
“AAAHHH, to Bob, Bob’s friend sound like native. Bob thought he smelled burritos, heard waves on beach. Very impressed. Bob’s friend has gift for language. Sure not speak Spanish?”
“Fred,” I said flatly, stepping directly in front of the little man. “Do you speak English?”
“Da. Fred speak no English,” he responded dully, tilting his head from side to side, his arms hung slack, swinging loosely as he spoke.
“Very sad, like Bob say. Fred’s parents live too close to nuclear plant. Sure, sure, rent very cheap but Fred… no brain for English,” Bob said, closing his eyes, shaking his head in a pretentious, melancholy way.
“Bob,” I started.
“Very late. No time for Fred’s story. Bob’s friend want to see house tonight or no?” he asked, pushing himself to stand between me and Fred.
“Alright, have it your way. Let’s go,” I demanded now irritated, angrily grabbing my coat off the back of the chair.
“Nyet, nyet. Bob’s friend almost forget,” he said, turning his back quickly, wriggling his fingers.
“Dear God. Money? Now?” I said, throwing my coat across the back of the chair again.
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Synopsis
After 27 years as a newspaper man, Peter Anderson’s career is slipping away, at least it was, until he stumbled upon the story of a lifetime. Sent to do a fluff piece about lights in the night sky over Arizona, he discovers far more than he ever expected when he comes upon a mysterious young woman held prisoner in a basement. After helping her to escape, she disappears before he can learn the truth about who she is or where she came from. His search for her leads him back to the lights in the sky and leaves him with more questions than answers. The only thing he knows for certain . . . the only thing he can count on are the two words offered repeatedly by his friend and guide . . . “IS BELT.”
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
I was raised pretty much the same as everyone else… devoted mother, strict father and all the imaginary friends I could conjure. Not that I wasn’t friendly, I just wasn’t “people orientated”. Maybe I lived in my head way more than I should have, maybe not. I liked machines more than people, at least I did until I met my wife.
The first thing I can remember writing was for her. For the life of me I can’t remember what it was about… something about dust bunnies under the bed and monsters in my closet. It must have been pretty good because she married me shortly after that. I spent a good number of years after inventing games and prototypes for a variety of ideas before I got back to writing.
It wasn’t a deliberate conscious thought, it was more of a stepping stone. My wife and I had joined a dream interpret group and we were encouraged to write down our dreams as they occurred. “Be as detailed as you can,” we were told.
I was thrilled. If there is one thing I enjoy it’s making people believe me and I like to exaggerate. Not a big exaggeration or an outright lie mine you, just a little step out of sync, just enough so you couldn’t be sure if it were true or not. When I write, I always write with the effort of “it could happen” very much in mind and nothing, I guarantee you, nothing, makes me happier.
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