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The Walls Shuttered

“Get away from that window Tres. The wind I fear will soon shatter the glass.”

“Duo is right Tres, not so close. That ghastly wind is the reason we are holed up in your brick hut in the first place,” Unus said.

“This region was not known for it’s gusting wind or I wouldn’t have built my house of sticks,” Duo said.

“I was under the impression this was more of a tropical desert climate. My house of straw should have been more than adequate.”

“The brick mortar appears to be under the assault of some substantial seismic distress Tres.”

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Hugh the Pie Man

Lucy waits in the dark of her entryway everyday, always at the same time.

The old dusty grandfather clock starts its bonging, sending out the nights collected particles in little poofs of classic horror show fashion.

6 a.m

The onset of dawn slowly illuminates Lucy’s matted, oily, and once blonde hair. Seething up and down she sits crossed legged in her stained sunflower dress, waiting for the door bell.

Crusted fingers adorned with hardened yellow nails clutch the second bright shining thing in Lucy’s life, the pie server.

Hugh the pie man should be here any moment.

She loves him.

August 10th, 2009

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Give-Blood-and-Thanks

Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 16 – Download PDF

Chapter 16:  What it is Smitts?

A little dark haired boy sat opposite Detective Arthur Martian and Officer John Martian in the waiting room of the Marshall General Hospital.  Arthur leaned his head back against a poster warning the public about the dangers of second hand smoke.  His long brown overcoat was pushed back under the arms of the cheap chair exposing the grip of his .38 in the shoulder holster and the red top of a pack of Marlboro Reds in the vest pocket.  The little boy, who couldn’t be more than seven or eight years old, stared at the pistol’s handle with wide eyes.  The boy’s mother provided a familiar inner city ambiance with her screams at the receptionist.  Really, she just loves her family and wants to provide a better life for her children.  Is that so wrong?  Medical bills keep piling up and they won’t cut her a break, these systems, are broken.  Arthur noticed the boy staring and nudged John to get his attention.

“You ever remember having an interest in guns when we were kids?” Arthur asked.

“Yea a little bit.  Probably only because it was against the rules to touch them.  Dad had us scared shit-less.”

“Yea, the old man was good about keeping some structure.  I guess.” Arthur prepared for John to react.  This was part of the game he played with his brother.  Crack about Dad, John picks up the fumbled ball to save his face, and then Arthur tackles him in the open to bring Dad back down.

“He was.  I don’t think Dad was all that bad when it came down to it.  What happened between you two that made you take off so soon and hate him so much?”

Arthur felt the hair stand up on his arm.  John was calling him out.  In a way Arthur was happy John blamed himself for their father’s death.  Up until that day five years ago it was Arthur who dodged the questions about Dad.  It was Arthur who told John to shut up.  Arthur was relieved to see the old man go.  Arthur could make his therapeutic snide comments about Dad and John would never want an explanation or let it go any further.  Arthur was counting on this to continue for a long time, at least until his own wounds caused by the old man were healed.  Now John was asking, asking a direct question, and Arthur was not ready to dodge, not ready to relive, not ready to tell the truth.

(more…)

August 8th, 2009

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Charlitok stands in line with the other veteran soldiers.

The commander is awarding accommodations.

Charlitok is proudly advancing to join an elite group who dawn the freshly killed head of a mighty grizzly bear.

Charlitok digs his heals into the soft earth, holds his head high, and tenses his muscles in attention.

As his commander lowers the head of the bear he feels a massive weight of responsibility to protect his brethren soldiers and the tribe.

“Good job Charlie, next scout rank is Webelos right?” his Mom says.

The applause and screams from the tribe echo in Charlitok’s ears.

August 2nd, 2009

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