TBD on Ning
Parts
This thread is for those parts of tales we’ve written – inspired beginnings (or middles and endings) and flashes of brilliance that came out of nowhere – only to mysteriously disappear as quickly as they came- leaving us stranded at our keyboards.
Good writing, but orphaned without a “rest of the story”.
Check your files…show off some of that stuff. Who knows? Maybe now is the right time to complete it.
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Permalink Reply by Westerly_2 on
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“Oh geeze” she hissed out loud in the empty car. “Red and blue lights? Me? Really?”
“Registration and drivers’ license, ma’am.” The good looking, booted fellow did not smile..
“Um, is there a problem, officer?” Elaine was a veteran driver, and although of a certain age, still paid attention, followed the rules and kept her scheduled maintenance current.
“You came to a fluttering stop back there, ma’am.”
“Excuse me?”
“Fluttering stop : stop – go – stop – go. You need to make a complete stop on right and check both directions before proceeding.”
“Ah. You didn’t see my brake lights?”
“I hope you’re not prepared to argue with me. It will go faster if you don’argue. Papers please.”
She fished them out and handed them over. He perused them carefully. “ Elaine S______?”
“Yes?”
“Same last name as that stand-up comic making a name for himself mocking law enforcement. Is that it? You’re related to him?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll have to ask you to step out of the car, search it for incendiary devices.”
“What?”
“Are you impeding an officer of the law in the performance of his duties, ma’am?”
“Look here, young man….”
“Threatening a peace officer? I have no choice but to subdue you.”
“Seriously? Ow!”
He shook his head sadly. “Look here. You broke my riot club with your hard head. Destruction of public property right there. You need to calm down.”
“I need to…. Help! I’m bleeding.”
“Tsk, tsk. If the taxpayers have to pick up the tab for the treatment of your self-inflicted injuries…, well, I hope you have good insurance.”
Elaine: Cradles head in arms.
Officer Slide: Phones in: “Sarge, need back-up…unexpected resistance. Send a K-9 unit.”
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;^ } Purely imaginary.
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Permalink Reply by Bmichael on
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“Mom wants ya.”
“What does she want?’
“She just said go find ya.”
***
“You’ve been out there too long,” she said. “I want you to come in for awhile. Warm up.”
“But I’m not cold. I’m OK, really…I wanna go back”… and then “ how long?”
“Two hours.”
***
Frantic, muffled obscenities - learned and absorbed from years of family verbal abuse spread evenly across the tribe, screamed into a pillow… a quick look at the clock radio – and on with the tantrum. One hour and nine minutes to go.
***
Somewhere between zero and five years, company comes.
Sitting on the living room floor among the jungle of long, adult legs as parents are actually nice to each other and frequently smiling, am handed a Disney book to occupy my time.
“Oh! It’s Chip’n Dale – those two little cocksuckers!”
A momentary stunned silence (or was it flapping of wings and gnashing of teeth?) followed by a quick, insincere “Honey! You shouldn’t say bad words like that – that’s night nice! Now go to your room!”
(dumped)
***
It’s twenty four degrees and the wind is gusting – making it feel like eleven. It’s dark, cloudy, and there’s snow.
Sitting in the dugout of the old baseball park – life is good. Inside, “The Jays” spray painted their name. Across the park, in a different dugout, another gang signed in “Huckass”. Huckass wins the name game.
Growing up there was the “H.O. Boys” (Hard On). Their arch enemies were P.O.G.O (Put Out or Get Out). And then there were The Hoods. (My favorite –they could play guitars…and drink and fight. Played with them, sometimes). The others could only drink.
Across the field, a pit bull is trotting towards the dugout. Is this my new dog? Hope so – he’s spectacularly ugly. It jumps up on the bench.
A good time is had by all for awhile– until the whistle from the adjoining apartment complex.
Bye.
Tomorrow it will be colder. Off to the knobs.
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Hard core! (And very droll)
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“… and just as soon as I’m able I’ll be makin’ my way out of this dreary place – you’ll see - someplace where people are civilized…and respectful… and educated…and bathe more often than the animals in their charge.”
“That right? And where did you have in mind, dumplin’?”
“Well, I’m not for certain yet, but I’m partial to Chattanooga. I hear it’s real pretty down there and the river brings all kinds of interesting and mysterious…”
“What about Billy?”
“Billy? Billy Joslin? Lord have mercy, Daddy! Now I admit there was a time when he caught my eye – but that was before he up and quit school and come to work on the farm. Now he’s just another one of your pack mules who could stand a more frequent change of clothes on a regular basis.”
“This farm is hard work, darlin’. And that’s why I took Billy on. He’s a hard worker – no shame in that. And he’s smart for a farm hand – that’s why I let him run a few men – gets things done in a hurry.”
“That’s all well and good, and I’m sure you’re right, Daddy…but I’ve got my heart set on a different type.”
“He asks about you all the time – wants to know how you’re doin’ and…”
“Well isn’t that sweet, but he can just keep on askin’…anyway, Chattanooga is not very far from Atlanta! Daddy, could you imagine what it must be like – what with all those big buildings and people, and stores, and theaters and such? They say you can go into one of those fancy restaurants and order up a lobster! An alive one! What do they taste like, Daddy? I hear they’re delicious…and very, very expensive! And they put some kind of special butter on it…”
They fell silent as the Sheriff’s car came down the dirt road and stopped at the house.
“Mornin’, Ben.”
“Mornin’. I got Billy locked up over to the jail since last night. The boy had a little too much and found some trouble over at Earl’s place. Judge Mason set his fine at two dollars for disorderly – and Earl is OK as long as he gets paid for the chair and window that got broke. I’m gonna turn him loose later on, as soon as he’s sober.”
“Honey, could you fix some coffee for Sherriff Hicks, please? We’ll be right in.”
“C’mon in, Ben. Thanks for comin’ out.”
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Pitch perfect.Can you hear Blanche duBois fixing to leave Belle Reve?
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Real Quick
“Real quick” was always his tag line for whatever he wanted you to wait for him to do, and it was never real quick.
“Ooh, ooh, wait for me to grab a snack real quick,” Fitz would say. “You go ahead and start up the car.”
Polly would shut her door, fire up the engine, strap on her belt, adjust the A/C and the radio volume and wait…and …wait…and… wait…. Fitz had come back these few months to live with her and their folks because of some minor set-backs in his last situation, mainly that his girlfriend was over him and had loaded everything up and drove away, and Polly was his default driver since his last suspension. She loved her goofy older brother, but sometimes….
“Hey,” said Fitz, opening the door which separated the kitchen from the garage. “You seen where I put my phone?”
Polly sighed heavily, cut the motor, and lumbered out of the driver’s seat.
“Help me retrace my steps,” he said. “No. Wait. Call my number.”
In the small pantry Fitz was standing in, his humming tone was heard.
“It’s in here somewhere,” he said, “right in back of me.” But as soon as he turned around, the tone changed direction. “Call it again,” he said.
Round and around he spun, but the phone could never be found as it whimpered throatily like a babe lost in the woods.
“Aha!” said Fitz at last, slapping his back pocket.
Polly rolled her eyes. “Ever seen a dog chasing his tail?”
“What?” he said.
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