jack coey
10-15-2013
02:05 PM ET (US)
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Jack Coey Evelyn
Evelyn worked at the nursing home and you could tell by looking at her she liked to eat. So I guess it shouldnt have come as a surprise when she said yes to my offer to take her to the steakhouse. I helped lift her into the cab, and we drove to the steakhouse, and I wasnt more than halfway through my beer as she wolfed down a plate of chicken wings. She attacked a plate of ribs and had sauce on her face that made her look like a clown. She told me her mother watched soap operas, and it got so bad she thought the characters were real. Her mother had a poodle which she lavished excessive attention on while not seeming (she excused herself to belch.) to feel the same way about her daughter. I thought about a way to suggest to her to take a napkin and wipe the sauce off her face, but couldnt think of how to do it, so I let it ride. A guy at another table gave me a nod as if to say, Hey, dude, you got yourself quite the lovely. I didnt give a shit really. He didnt know the story. I saw her daiquiri was empty, and the waitress came over, and asked her if she wanted another, which of course she did, and the waitress suggested bringing some more napkins, and still she didnt get the hint. I smiled, it was funny, really. I was putting a piece of steak in my mouth, and I swear I heard her, and when I looked at her, she was innocent like nothing happened. I waited to smell something, and I did. I waved my hand in front of my face. I couldnt bring myself to take another bite. A twenty dollar steak lying there in front of me: a virgin. She said she had to go to the ladies room, and from the smell, I didnt think otherwise. She pried herself out between the bench and the table and the non-sauce part of her face was red with exertion. As she waddled off, the wise ass guy from the other table gave me a smirk again and I thought, fuck you.
I apologized to the waitress when she brought Evelyns daiquiri for ordering another drink piggy-back, and she left napkins on the table. I was taking the second sip from the whisky, when I saw Evelyn waddling toward me, the sauce still on her face. The table got jammed into my gut when she pried herself in between the table and bench. She started her second assault on the ribs, and I guessed she must have missed the mirror in the ladies room. She talked, between chewing on ribs, about her job in the nursing home how inspired she is by the dignity with which some people suffer and die. She talked about a client who was in pain who never raised his voice or spoke harshly to her even though he was suffering. It was painful for me to listen to her talk, and I took a big gulp of whisky to control my feelings. The waitress asked how everything was, and Evelyn ordered a chocolate sundae. I must say I was taken back by her eating habits; whenever I saw her at the nursing home she was always appropriate and reserved. Whats your problem? I said to the jerk at the next table who made faces at Evelyns bad behavior. I didnt hear whatever he said, but I landed the first punch, and the next I knew I was on the floor, and I could hear screaming.
I woke up in a jail cell with two other guys and the smell of urine. I kept myself from vomiting. The picture of Evelyn with sauce on her face came to me as I picked up the pieces of my shattered dinner. I felt bad. Evelyn was always Dads favorite.
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Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet
08-15-2013
05:22 AM ET (US)
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JULY IS PUBLISHED. TRY OCTOBER/2013 AND JANUARY/2014 ISSUES.
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Bill Gaddis
08-14-2013
07:39 PM ET (US)
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Hello, Here's another short story, this one 1,750 words. Hope you like it.
BILL GADDIS 3848 SO PACIFIC HWY, SPACE43, 1 MEDFORD, OREGON 97501 Billgaddis32@yahoo.com 1750 WORDSFICTION SUBMISSION 541 622 4472 541-622-4472
THERES A MAN GOING AROUND I stepped out of the shed where I had slept. I was fifteen years old and answered to the name of Billy. Of brothers and sisters, I had one each, both younger than myself. They were still asleep in the house Pa had fashioned by ramming two one-room shacks together. Of course, Pa hadnt done the ramming himself. He used the two draft horses, Doc and Dan, for that.
When the sun rose, an hour later, Id breakfasted, milked the small herd of dairy cows my father kept, and hauled enough water from the spring to last the family for the day. I hurried, because today was when Id decided to head across Strawberry Mountain to the elk wintering grounds on the far side.
Yesterday had been relatively warm for a December day. The accumulated snow had melted on top, then froze during the night. Now there was crust enough to easily bear my 185 pounds without me breaking through.
By around eight oclock, I reached the upper boundary of our 160 acres of hay fields. Beyond the barbed wire fence began the timbered slopes of Strawberry Mountain. This was an area where I sometimes harvested a fat mule deer for table meat. It wasnt legal, but considering the precious hay the deer ate and trampled, our family considered it a fair trade.
An onlooker, seeing the high powered rifle slung across my shoulder, might have surmised that I was hunting big game but such was not the case. I merely had a strong curiosity about the elk herd that grazed Strawberry Mountain and its environs.
Walking on the frozen crust was deceptively easy. I crossed the fence and plunged into the forest, scarcely altering my pace to allow for the increased gradient. The snow was deeper now, about to my knees I judged, saying I broke through. If I continued at this pace, Id be over the crest of the mountain by noontime.
The absence of wild life signs puzzled me. Not even a hawk or a blue jay disturbed the skys serenity. As for rabbit or vole tracks in the softening snow, there were none. It was as if a wolf or a cougar had suddenly appeared, frightening the forests small denizens into hiding.
I shivered, mindful of the Wendigo stories Id heard, growing up. The Wendigo, according to legend, was the spirit of the forest. It manifested itself in many ways, mostly evil. One such, I remembered, involved two woodsmen who, on a canoe trip, had camped on a brushy island in the middle of the stream they were negotiating. All went well until, upon awakening next morning, they noticed cone-shaped depressions in their firewood and in their canoe and paddles. Some kind of invisible force was drilling holes in anything on the island that had substance. Frightened half out of their wits, the men piled into their cone-riddled canoe and paddled like hell to get away before they, themselves, were wounded or killed.
By noon, I was crossing the mountains summit. To my surprise and disgust, I suddenly started breaking through the crust, plunging to my knees in the wet snow. It didnt take an Einstein to figure out the blazing sun had softened the crust to where it wouldnt bear my weight any longer.
What a fool Id been! The crust had seemed so damn strong! And now I was miles from home. I turned and, in a near panic, began to flounder my way back the way Id come. What a mess, damn it! The crust was too weak to support my weight, but still rigid enough to provide a knife-edged resistance to the front of my legs as I thrust against it.
After nearly an hour of forcing my way downhill, I was gasping for breath. I felt almost like collapsing. Looking back, I could see drops of blood spattered liberally along the trail Id made. It was impossible to continue what I was doing. Not only was I nearing exhaustion, my shins were bruised, and bleeding through my frayed pant legs. The pain was becoming serious. Belatedly, I realized it was time I started using my head instead of relying on brute strength, my usual solution to a problem.
After several moments of reflection, I decided to try to fashion a pair of crude snowshoes using the materials I had at hand. The odds were against my contriving anything useful, but I decided to try. With my pocket knife, I cut a supply of pine boughs, each bough about two feet in length. Seated on the pile of limbs, I removed the leather laces from my boots and set about securing the branches to the bottoms of my boots. The trick was to tie the boughs so they would stay fastened and, at the same time, keep my boots from falling off my feet.
The result, when I stood up, was clumsy, exceedingly so. And yet they worked. By taking short steps and sliding my feet, I managed to shuffle downhill while staying on top of the snow. I gazed at the sky and grinned mirthlessly. Maybe, just maybe, this was not my day to die after all!
The sound of someone laughing interrupted my feeling of exhilaration. Christ! Who could it be? Looking around, I saw a man dressed in fancy looking clothes seated on a downed tree trunk. What the…! The area for a short distance around the tree was bare of snow! Unbelievably, green plant life was sprouting from the bare soil.
Holy shit! I step-skied down to where the stranger sat. How in helld you get here, Mister?
Why, the usual way, the mans voice sounded condescending. I walked.
That doesnt seem likely, I said. There arent any tracks. Also, how come theres no snow around where youre sitting?
Those are astute observations, my boy, said the strange person. But perhaps Im not disposed to explain.
What! What do you mean?
I mean I didnt come here to answer your foolish questions. Instead, lets have lunch and chat a bit. Then well go our separate ways. What do you say?
I guess that sounds okay by me. I sidled over to the tree trunk and sat. I took a bacon sandwich from an inner pocket of my coat and began unwrapping the wax-paper covering.
Good for you. The suave sounding stranger rummaged in a mesh sack he carried. He drew out a foot-long cutthroat trout and held it by its tail. Down the hatch, he said. He lifted the fish over his head and began lowering it into his throat.
That looks delicious I said, half- sarcastically. Is it even cooked?
No. Cooking destroys the flavor. He held up the sack. Care for one?
I grimaced. Not likely. I swallowed the last of my sandwich. What comes next?
Well, said the entity, I imagine youve divined by now that you have something I might want?
Im going to go with a wild guess. I mustered a sickly smile. Is it my soul youre after?
The stranger stood, then drew himself to his full height. I appreciate that you dont beat around the bush, my boy. You have no idea how tiresome it is, trying to negotiate…
This reminds me of a poem, I rudely interrupted. The Devil and Daniel Webster. We just read it in literature class at school. I mused. By the way, what are you thinking of offering me for my soul?
I was going to offer to save your life. Youd never have made it off this mountain if you hadnt thought to make those stupid snowshoes, you know.
I hope youre not going to try to take credit for that.
Fairs fair. No, it was your idea. The devil looked hopeful. What else could I offer that might interest you?
Well, theres always money, I grinned. I might as well tell you though; no amount of money would tempt me to sell my immortal soul.
What then? Would you like to have power? I could arrange for you to become governor of this state when you finish growing up. The devils voice was growing impatient.
I considered the offer. Would I have to live in hell? I asked. my own voice sounded weak and tentative, I decided.
Not till after you die. Anyway, Hell is not as unpleasant as youve probably been led to believe. As a matter of fact, you would undoubtedly have a very comfortable existence there. The devil took a sheet of paper from his dinner jacket. All you have to do is sign this. Are you interested?
I dont believe I am. Youre really not giving me much time to think. Now, my voice sounded loud, almost booming, I thought, puzzled at the anomaly.
How much time do you need? Ive transacted business with millionaires in a much shorter time span than this.
Wow! What would a millionaire need your services for?
Youd be surprised, The devil smiled. From what Ive observed, no matter how much you mortals get, theres always something else youve got to have.
Sounds like a vicious circle to me, I observed. Why bother?
As I said, youre very astute, said Satan. Why indeed?
In that case I might as well be going. I stood up. I hope I havent spoiled your day too much.
Not at all. I win some, I lose some. Beelzebub sounded miffed as he sat back heavily on the log.
Thats a very civilized way of looking at things. Its been a pleasure almost doing business with you. I stepped up on the crust and started to shuffle down the slope. I hesitated. Do you mind if I ask you a question...sir?
That depends. There are some things I prefer not to discuss. You probably wont want to answer this one then, but here goes anyway. Are you ever sorry you got crosswise with Go…
Then, in a puff of smoke, The Prince of Darkness was gone.
* * *
Some time later, chuffing down the last of the mountains sloping flank, I began once again to see animal tracks crossing my path. Looking up, I saw a pair of hawks circling overhead. Suddenly, all seemed normal again. It was as if an evil, deadly ominous presence had suddenly withdrawn itself from the scene.
Whistling, I continued my journey. It would soon be time to milk the cows again and, for once, I didnt mind.
End
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Bill Gaddis
08-05-2013
09:22 PM ET (US)
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Heres a short story of 2,800 words I hope you'll like:
William J. GADDIS 3848 So Pacific Hwy, sp 43 Medford, Oregon 97501 541-622-4472 Billgaddis32@yahoo.com 2,800words
DESCENT INTO DARKNESS
Jason Dana arrived early for his tryst with Liz Morton, a pretty young woman hed met on his daily train commute. Theyd been meeting like this for nearly a month and tended to favor a bar on Portlands east side. The name of the bar was The Rendezvous Room. True to the names inference, the bars lights were dimmed a little more each hour after 5:00 pm, until the patrons could scarcely see each other. It made for a sense of cozy secureness when not wishing to meet an acquaintance. Or worse, a close family member such as a spouse. Seeing Liz walk in, Jason gulped, felt a warm flush suffuse his body. Hot damn! he muttered to no one in particular. She was just too gorgeous for a low paid bookkeeper like him to have sparked her interest. I love my wife, but oh you kid! was a formerly popular saying that now seemed to be appropriate all over again. Five foot three inches tall, bobbed brunette hair, striking green eyes, and a Madonna figure, Liz was the quintessence of female perfection. Fortunately, it was only a little after 5:00 pm, so there was still light enough to see and be seen. Hi, you doll, he enthused, after she slipped into the opposite seat. Hi yourself, good looking. Been waiting long? Long enough to get a little horny, he replied. Normally, he didnt like to sound or act crass but the words were out and there was no recalling them. To his surprise, she wasnt offended. What would you like to do about that? She actually smiled. A cheap hotel comes to mind. Really. Why a cheap one? Its better I dont use a credit card and Im a little short on cash. Okay? Whatever you say, you handsome hunk. Im ready when you are.
They found a suitable looking hotel not far from the bar. How much? Jason demanded of the seedy looking desk clerk. Forty-two dollars for one night, the man replied. He turned and lifted a key from its brass hook. Room 218, he said, baring a set of nicotine-stained dentures. No loud music after 10:00 pm. # The room was about what hed expected for the price, but Jason wasnt in a mood to be critical. He had just sat down on the bed to take off his shoes when the door burst open. What the hell…? he exclaimed. A very angry looking individual whom he recognized from the hotel lobby marched into the room. The man thrust out his hand and poked Jason with what looked like an electric zapper, a Taser. The effect was instantaneous! Jason screamed as he felt himself falling. Lying on the floor, unable to move a muscle, Jason could only glare as the angry looking man had sex with Liz on the bed. He couldnt see Lizs face but imagined it frozen into a rictus of fear and loathing. He closed his eyes and willed the horrible paralysis that affected his body to go away. The rapist soon spent himself, then casually went through Jasons and Lizs belongings, taking what money they had, as well as pocketing Jasons billfold. He smiled a nasty smile as he departed. Ill be in touch, he said ominously, just before closing the door. W-we better call the police right away, Jason stammered, as soon as he could struggle to a sitting position. Liz looked incredulous Youre forgetting something mister, she sobbed. What about publicity? My husband will kill me if he finds out! We have to keep this secret. Im afraid of him! Youre right. I sure as hell wouldnt want Sally finding out, either. # At home, Jason was only just starting to relax, when the phone rang. Reluctantly, he lifted the receiver. Hello Hello, sweetheart. This is Ed Coffee. Remember me? How could I not remember? Id like to meet you when you dont have a weapon, you son of a bitch! Dont be ridiculous. Id bend you into a pretzel. Now listen, amigo. I want a thousand dollars by tomorrow. In case youre thinking of saying no, howd you like me to have a chat with your sweet little wife? Liz, his lover, was sympathetic when he telephoned her with the news. My God, its like a nightmare! she sobbed. But at least hes being reasonable. A thousand dollars isnt out of the question. Besides, I can help. I can raise half of it without Darren finding out. Let me do that, wont you? I couldnt do that. Why not? After all, were in this together, arent we? Yes, but… Do you trust me? Yes, but… Then dont say any more about it, sweety. Okay? # The next day, Ed Coffee called Jason at his place of employment, Fedderucci Import-Export Company. Coffee got right to the point. Look sweetheart, what do you say we get down to brass tacks? he grated. How about if we quit messin around? What do you mean, Coffee, damn you? You got your thousand dollars! I left it right where you said! Not good enough. My horizons have broadened. I want more. My God! How much more? Jason groaned. Lets say a hundred thousand, my friend, and thats it. No more calls ever. You have my word. Jason hesitated. I need time to think about this, dammit, man. How do I know I can trust you? That you wont keep coming back? You got two days. And you dont know I wont come back. The only thing you know for sure is that Ill be having a heart to heart with your sweet little wife, Sally, if you dont come up with the dough. The line disconnected. # The next day, a Thursday, Jason was caught red-handed by Mister Fedderucci himself, in a very compromising position. I simply dont understand, my boy, wheezed the older man, after directing Jason into his inner sanctum. Why did you try to rob me? Surely you didnt expect to get away with pilfering our safe in broad daylight? Im afraid I just dont understand. It all came tumbling out: the secret meetings with Liz, the tawdry hotel room, the invasion by Ed Coffee, the robbery, and the subsequent demands for more money. I just didnt know what to do! he wailed. Theres no way I could raise that amount of money. Even if you did raise the money, that wouldnt be the end of it, cautioned his long-time employer. Men like your Mister Coffee dont quit until their victim is bled white. Then maybe its best I was caught. It was a flat statement from a man whod given up. At least now therell be an end to it. Maybe theres another way to put an end to it, said Jasons boss. I know some people. Lets think about it. I dont understand, sir said Jason. Arent you going to have me arrested? Lets just say I feel sorry for you, you dumb bastard. Mister Fedderucci was behaving somewhat out of character but Jason was down to grasping at straws. He quickly acceded when the older man laid out a scenario that included murder. Mister Fedderuccis plan was simple enough: Jason and Freddy, a professional killer, would meet with Ed Coffee at a pre-arranged meeting place in order to give over the blackmail money. At that point, Freddy would pull out his sidearm and dispatch Coffee without further ado. There was some mention of a silencer and of walking away quickly but Jason couldnt really grasp the details. All that lodged in his senses was that a professional gunman, provided by his sympathetic boss, was going to make things all right. The location where the money was to be exchanged was a secluded bench in Lincoln Park. Ed Coffee specified the place and the time, which was 3:00 oclock in the afternoon. Bring the money in an overnight bag, he specified. And dont even think of trying to short me or Ill kill you. # True to his word, Ed Coffee was sitting on the park bench when Jason and the assassin arrived. Only Coffee didnt wait for introductions. Without warning, he jerked a .45 caliber automatic from his shoulder holster and shot Freddy precisely in the middle of his forehead. Aside from a slight foot twitch, Freddy lay there on the footpath without moving a muscle. You God-damned fool, Coffee intoned. Try something like that again and youre a dead man. He kicked at the empty overnight bag. Youve got three days, he said. Dont screw it up this time. # After a sleepless night in a so-so hotel in downtown Portland, Jason set out on an aimless walk. For the hundredth time, he reviewed possible solutions in his head. Not that there was a viable solution to be had; Ed Coffee had already proved he was at least one move ahead of Jason in any possible scenario. The only sure-fire solution was to rob a bank! And Jason had just proved how inept he was at robbery. Hearing a bell-tower clock chiming, Jason reluctantly brought his gaze up from where hed been staring at the sidewalk. He recognized his surroundings as being in the business district of the city. Wait a minute! He recognized the couple walking ahead of him as well. There was no mistaking what his eyes were telling him. It was Ed Coffee and Liz! For a moment he assumed the low-life had kidnapped Liz, and was forcing her to accompany him somewhere. Then it became apparent; there was no reluctance on Lizs part. She chatted amiably and even brushed her hip against her companion in an enticing way. The truth was like a hammer blow to the head. He stumbled and nearly fell to the sidewalk. IT WAS A SCAM! THEY WERE IN IT TOGETHER! Jason couldnt have said how he got back to his hotel room. All he could think of was how hed been had, how Liz and Ed Coffee had pulled the wool over his eyes. What a fool hed been! Without consciously making a decision, he found himself thinking of how he could get even with the pair of them. Youre going to pay, he heard himself mutter. Not that it would be that easy. Ed Coffee had already demonstrated his cunning by killing Freddy, the would-be assassin. Jason wracked his brain in an attempt to recall if he had mentioned to Liz the plan for Freddy to get in the first shot at the money exchange. Of course! That was it! He had told Liz and Liz had simply relayed the information to her confederate. Maybe Ed Coffee wasnt so infallible after all! Further brain-wracking only reaffirmed the fact that neither Ed Coffee nor Liz knew he was on to them. He felt himself almost smile. There had to be a way he could play them off against each other. With only the embryo of a plan formulated in his mind, he reached for the phone and dialed Lizs number. Hello, Liz? He tried to make his voice sound casual. She sounded delighted. Jason! What a nice surprise. Whats up? I need to see you. Can you meet me in the city? Can I? Just say where! He confided the location of his hotel, hung up, and settled back to think. # When Liz arrived an hour later, Jason forced himself to ignore her affectionate greeting. Never mind the bullshit, he groused, pushing her away. I know all about your little game. Only Im not playing any longer, understand? Liz seemed instinctively to know better than to put on an act. I dont know how you found out, Jason, she said coolly; but it doesnt matter because you dont dare involve the police and youre terrified your little housemate might find out. Weve got you by the short hairs and you know it, dont you? She leered. So it would seem, Jason said. He smiled meanly, then sucker-punched Liz on the point of her chin. Liz was only out for a few minutes. She regained consciousness when Jason dashed a glass of water in her face. She tried to sit up, and then regarded her duct-taped limbs with an astonished glance. Jason! What in the world… Time for you to shut up and listen, you bitch. Jason ripped off a six-inch strip of tape from the roll, and mashed it over her mouth. He reached for a pair of needle-nosed pliers hed picked up at a nearby hardware store, along with the duct tape. The short trip to the store had been a pleasant diversion while he waited for Liz to arrive. Did you ever nip yourself accidently with a pair of these? he asked. He jerked Lizs blouse and bra aside so her breasts were exposed. He touched her suddenly erect nipples with the cold metal tool. Liz flinched and attempted to scream, but failed miserably. Now youre going to talk to Ed Coffee, he told her. Youre going to say just what I tell you. He jerked the strip of tape from the frightened womans mouth. He could tell that his action caused her sharp pain. To his surprise, he found he didnt care. # The next day, Jason presented himself at the private office of Mister Fedderucci at an early hour. He didnt beat around the bush, as he normally would. Im here to see about getting a new job, he announced. Im afraid I dont understand. Mister Fedderuccis lips became a straight line. Youve been keeping my books for some time, now. Is it a transfer you suddenly want, something more challenging perhaps? Maybe youd like to work overseas? His tone of voice suggested he was perhaps talking to a bratty child. Lets just say I want something that pays better. Jason stared at his employer as a hungry snake regards a mouse. We both know theres an opening in the muscle end of this organization. The boss man looked puzzled. Muscle? I dont know what youre talking about. Sure you do. Dont forget Ive been keeping your books for a long time. To put it plainly, sir, I want Freddys old job for a start Fedderucci rubbed his jaw. I guess its no secret Im a sucker for straight talk. But that doesnt mean youd be suited for the job you mentioned. Its not that easy to kill people. How do you know you wouldnt freeze up? Ive seen better men than you lose control. Because Ive already got experience, Jason grinned with a new-found confidence. If you dont believe me, read todays newspaper. Theres sure to be a story about two bodies being dumped in the East River last night. Jason paused, his grin transforming into a modest smile. I can give you all the details on how they were killed, as well as a description of the marks on the bodies. I can tell you that because it was me that killed them. And I not only didnt freeze up, I actually enjoyed doing it. He stared into the older mans eyes. How about it, Mister Fedderucci? Do I get the job? The old gangster exhaled noisily. Lets just check the newspaper first, he said. If its as you say, well see. The story was on page two and gave all the details: Two bodies, one male, one female, had been removed from the East River by police during the night. Both bodies were nude and both had been subjected to extreme torture, as evidenced by the marks on the corpses. The report speculated that the murders, because of the savagery of the crimes, were likely the result of gangland revenge killings. That should be enough to prove Ive got the balls for the job, said Jason, a pleased look lightening his features. So what. The older man turned away impatiently. What do you mean? You said… I said well see. Did you really think it was going to be that easy… just knocking off a couple of low-life blackmailers? I dont get it, sir. What else could you possibly expect? Jason felt his senses reeling. Its not out of the question that I require you to do something to prove your absolute loyalty to me. Something like sacrificing someone close to you. Do you have any children? With respect sir; you must be out of your mind! God! You mean youd have me kill my own kids? Do you want the job or dont you? The old gangsters voice was suddenly ice. Wewe dont have any children. Weve tried, but… Any close relatives? Theres only my wife, Sally. Fedderuccis facial muscles relaxed. There you go, my boy. Problem solved. Jason hesitated briefly as if thinking the proposal over, and then shrugged. You know what? Youve got a deal, boss. he said slowly, as if belatedly realizing he meant it. end
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Bill Gaddis
08-05-2013
09:22 PM ET (US)
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Heres a short story of 2,800 words I hope you'll like:
William J. GADDIS 3848 So Pacific Hwy, sp 43 Medford, Oregon 97501 541-622-4472 Billgaddis32@yahoo.com 2,800words
DESCENT INTO DARKNESS
Jason Dana arrived early for his tryst with Liz Morton, a pretty young woman hed met on his daily train commute. Theyd been meeting like this for nearly a month and tended to favor a bar on Portlands east side. The name of the bar was The Rendezvous Room. True to the names inference, the bars lights were dimmed a little more each hour after 5:00 pm, until the patrons could scarcely see each other. It made for a sense of cozy secureness when not wishing to meet an acquaintance. Or worse, a close family member such as a spouse. Seeing Liz walk in, Jason gulped, felt a warm flush suffuse his body. Hot damn! he muttered to no one in particular. She was just too gorgeous for a low paid bookkeeper like him to have sparked her interest. I love my wife, but oh you kid! was a formerly popular saying that now seemed to be appropriate all over again. Five foot three inches tall, bobbed brunette hair, striking green eyes, and a Madonna figure, Liz was the quintessence of female perfection. Fortunately, it was only a little after 5:00 pm, so there was still light enough to see and be seen. Hi, you doll, he enthused, after she slipped into the opposite seat. Hi yourself, good looking. Been waiting long? Long enough to get a little horny, he replied. Normally, he didnt like to sound or act crass but the words were out and there was no recalling them. To his surprise, she wasnt offended. What would you like to do about that? She actually smiled. A cheap hotel comes to mind. Really. Why a cheap one? Its better I dont use a credit card and Im a little short on cash. Okay? Whatever you say, you handsome hunk. Im ready when you are.
They found a suitable looking hotel not far from the bar. How much? Jason demanded of the seedy looking desk clerk. Forty-two dollars for one night, the man replied. He turned and lifted a key from its brass hook. Room 218, he said, baring a set of nicotine-stained dentures. No loud music after 10:00 pm. # The room was about what hed expected for the price, but Jason wasnt in a mood to be critical. He had just sat down on the bed to take off his shoes when the door burst open. What the hell…? he exclaimed. A very angry looking individual whom he recognized from the hotel lobby marched into the room. The man thrust out his hand and poked Jason with what looked like an electric zapper, a Taser. The effect was instantaneous! Jason screamed as he felt himself falling. Lying on the floor, unable to move a muscle, Jason could only glare as the angry looking man had sex with Liz on the bed. He couldnt see Lizs face but imagined it frozen into a rictus of fear and loathing. He closed his eyes and willed the horrible paralysis that affected his body to go away. The rapist soon spent himself, then casually went through Jasons and Lizs belongings, taking what money they had, as well as pocketing Jasons billfold. He smiled a nasty smile as he departed. Ill be in touch, he said ominously, just before closing the door. W-we better call the police right away, Jason stammered, as soon as he could struggle to a sitting position. Liz looked incredulous Youre forgetting something mister, she sobbed. What about publicity? My husband will kill me if he finds out! We have to keep this secret. Im afraid of him! Youre right. I sure as hell wouldnt want Sally finding out, either. # At home, Jason was only just starting to relax, when the phone rang. Reluctantly, he lifted the receiver. Hello Hello, sweetheart. This is Ed Coffee. Remember me? How could I not remember? Id like to meet you when you dont have a weapon, you son of a bitch! Dont be ridiculous. Id bend you into a pretzel. Now listen, amigo. I want a thousand dollars by tomorrow. In case youre thinking of saying no, howd you like me to have a chat with your sweet little wife? Liz, his lover, was sympathetic when he telephoned her with the news. My God, its like a nightmare! she sobbed. But at least hes being reasonable. A thousand dollars isnt out of the question. Besides, I can help. I can raise half of it without Darren finding out. Let me do that, wont you? I couldnt do that. Why not? After all, were in this together, arent we? Yes, but… Do you trust me? Yes, but… Then dont say any more about it, sweety. Okay? # The next day, Ed Coffee called Jason at his place of employment, Fedderucci Import-Export Company. Coffee got right to the point. Look sweetheart, what do you say we get down to brass tacks? he grated. How about if we quit messin around? What do you mean, Coffee, damn you? You got your thousand dollars! I left it right where you said! Not good enough. My horizons have broadened. I want more. My God! How much more? Jason groaned. Lets say a hundred thousand, my friend, and thats it. No more calls ever. You have my word. Jason hesitated. I need time to think about this, dammit, man. How do I know I can trust you? That you wont keep coming back? You got two days. And you dont know I wont come back. The only thing you know for sure is that Ill be having a heart to heart with your sweet little wife, Sally, if you dont come up with the dough. The line disconnected. # The next day, a Thursday, Jason was caught red-handed by Mister Fedderucci himself, in a very compromising position. I simply dont understand, my boy, wheezed the older man, after directing Jason into his inner sanctum. Why did you try to rob me? Surely you didnt expect to get away with pilfering our safe in broad daylight? Im afraid I just dont understand. It all came tumbling out: the secret meetings with Liz, the tawdry hotel room, the invasion by Ed Coffee, the robbery, and the subsequent demands for more money. I just didnt know what to do! he wailed. Theres no way I could raise that amount of money. Even if you did raise the money, that wouldnt be the end of it, cautioned his long-time employer. Men like your Mister Coffee dont quit until their victim is bled white. Then maybe its best I was caught. It was a flat statement from a man whod given up. At least now therell be an end to it. Maybe theres another way to put an end to it, said Jasons boss. I know some people. Lets think about it. I dont understand, sir said Jason. Arent you going to have me arrested? Lets just say I feel sorry for you, you dumb bastard. Mister Fedderucci was behaving somewhat out of character but Jason was down to grasping at straws. He quickly acceded when the older man laid out a scenario that included murder. Mister Fedderuccis plan was simple enough: Jason and Freddy, a professional killer, would meet with Ed Coffee at a pre-arranged meeting place in order to give over the blackmail money. At that point, Freddy would pull out his sidearm and dispatch Coffee without further ado. There was some mention of a silencer and of walking away quickly but Jason couldnt really grasp the details. All that lodged in his senses was that a professional gunman, provided by his sympathetic boss, was going to make things all right. The location where the money was to be exchanged was a secluded bench in Lincoln Park. Ed Coffee specified the place and the time, which was 3:00 oclock in the afternoon. Bring the money in an overnight bag, he specified. And dont even think of trying to short me or Ill kill you. # True to his word, Ed Coffee was sitting on the park bench when Jason and the assassin arrived. Only Coffee didnt wait for introductions. Without warning, he jerked a .45 caliber automatic from his shoulder holster and shot Freddy precisely in the middle of his forehead. Aside from a slight foot twitch, Freddy lay there on the footpath without moving a muscle. You God-damned fool, Coffee intoned. Try something like that again and youre a dead man. He kicked at the empty overnight bag. Youve got three days, he said. Dont screw it up this time. # After a sleepless night in a so-so hotel in downtown Portland, Jason set out on an aimless walk. For the hundredth time, he reviewed possible solutions in his head. Not that there was a viable solution to be had; Ed Coffee had already proved he was at least one move ahead of Jason in any possible scenario. The only sure-fire solution was to rob a bank! And Jason had just proved how inept he was at robbery. Hearing a bell-tower clock chiming, Jason reluctantly brought his gaze up from where hed been staring at the sidewalk. He recognized his surroundings as being in the business district of the city. Wait a minute! He recognized the couple walking ahead of him as well. There was no mistaking what his eyes were telling him. It was Ed Coffee and Liz! For a moment he assumed the low-life had kidnapped Liz, and was forcing her to accompany him somewhere. Then it became apparent; there was no reluctance on Lizs part. She chatted amiably and even brushed her hip against her companion in an enticing way. The truth was like a hammer blow to the head. He stumbled and nearly fell to the sidewalk. IT WAS A SCAM! THEY WERE IN IT TOGETHER! Jason couldnt have said how he got back to his hotel room. All he could think of was how hed been had, how Liz and Ed Coffee had pulled the wool over his eyes. What a fool hed been! Without consciously making a decision, he found himself thinking of how he could get even with the pair of them. Youre going to pay, he heard himself mutter. Not that it would be that easy. Ed Coffee had already demonstrated his cunning by killing Freddy, the would-be assassin. Jason wracked his brain in an attempt to recall if he had mentioned to Liz the plan for Freddy to get in the first shot at the money exchange. Of course! That was it! He had told Liz and Liz had simply relayed the information to her confederate. Maybe Ed Coffee wasnt so infallible after all! Further brain-wracking only reaffirmed the fact that neither Ed Coffee nor Liz knew he was on to them. He felt himself almost smile. There had to be a way he could play them off against each other. With only the embryo of a plan formulated in his mind, he reached for the phone and dialed Lizs number. Hello, Liz? He tried to make his voice sound casual. She sounded delighted. Jason! What a nice surprise. Whats up? I need to see you. Can you meet me in the city? Can I? Just say where! He confided the location of his hotel, hung up, and settled back to think. # When Liz arrived an hour later, Jason forced himself to ignore her affectionate greeting. Never mind the bullshit, he groused, pushing her away. I know all about your little game. Only Im not playing any longer, understand? Liz seemed instinctively to know better than to put on an act. I dont know how you found out, Jason, she said coolly; but it doesnt matter because you dont dare involve the police and youre terrified your little housemate might find out. Weve got you by the short hairs and you know it, dont you? She leered. So it would seem, Jason said. He smiled meanly, then sucker-punched Liz on the point of her chin. Liz was only out for a few minutes. She regained consciousness when Jason dashed a glass of water in her face. She tried to sit up, and then regarded her duct-taped limbs with an astonished glance. Jason! What in the world… Time for you to shut up and listen, you bitch. Jason ripped off a six-inch strip of tape from the roll, and mashed it over her mouth. He reached for a pair of needle-nosed pliers hed picked up at a nearby hardware store, along with the duct tape. The short trip to the store had been a pleasant diversion while he waited for Liz to arrive. Did you ever nip yourself accidently with a pair of these? he asked. He jerked Lizs blouse and bra aside so her breasts were exposed. He touched her suddenly erect nipples with the cold metal tool. Liz flinched and attempted to scream, but failed miserably. Now youre going to talk to Ed Coffee, he told her. Youre going to say just what I tell you. He jerked the strip of tape from the frightened womans mouth. He could tell that his action caused her sharp pain. To his surprise, he found he didnt care. # The next day, Jason presented himself at the private office of Mister Fedderucci at an early hour. He didnt beat around the bush, as he normally would. Im here to see about getting a new job, he announced. Im afraid I dont understand. Mister Fedderuccis lips became a straight line. Youve been keeping my books for some time, now. Is it a transfer you suddenly want, something more challenging perhaps? Maybe youd like to work overseas? His tone of voice suggested he was perhaps talking to a bratty child. Lets just say I want something that pays better. Jason stared at his employer as a hungry snake regards a mouse. We both know theres an opening in the muscle end of this organization. The boss man looked puzzled. Muscle? I dont know what youre talking about. Sure you do. Dont forget Ive been keeping your books for a long time. To put it plainly, sir, I want Freddys old job for a start Fedderucci rubbed his jaw. I guess its no secret Im a sucker for straight talk. But that doesnt mean youd be suited for the job you mentioned. Its not that easy to kill people. How do you know you wouldnt freeze up? Ive seen better men than you lose control. Because Ive already got experience, Jason grinned with a new-found confidence. If you dont believe me, read todays newspaper. Theres sure to be a story about two bodies being dumped in the East River last night. Jason paused, his grin transforming into a modest smile. I can give you all the details on how they were killed, as well as a description of the marks on the bodies. I can tell you that because it was me that killed them. And I not only didnt freeze up, I actually enjoyed doing it. He stared into the older mans eyes. How about it, Mister Fedderucci? Do I get the job? The old gangster exhaled noisily. Lets just check the newspaper first, he said. If its as you say, well see. The story was on page two and gave all the details: Two bodies, one male, one female, had been removed from the East River by police during the night. Both bodies were nude and both had been subjected to extreme torture, as evidenced by the marks on the corpses. The report speculated that the murders, because of the savagery of the crimes, were likely the result of gangland revenge killings. That should be enough to prove Ive got the balls for the job, said Jason, a pleased look lightening his features. So what. The older man turned away impatiently. What do you mean? You said… I said well see. Did you really think it was going to be that easy… just knocking off a couple of low-life blackmailers? I dont get it, sir. What else could you possibly expect? Jason felt his senses reeling. Its not out of the question that I require you to do something to prove your absolute loyalty to me. Something like sacrificing someone close to you. Do you have any children? With respect sir; you must be out of your mind! God! You mean youd have me kill my own kids? Do you want the job or dont you? The old gangsters voice was suddenly ice. Wewe dont have any children. Weve tried, but… Any close relatives? Theres only my wife, Sally. Fedderuccis facial muscles relaxed. There you go, my boy. Problem solved. Jason hesitated briefly as if thinking the proposal over, and then shrugged. You know what? Youve got a deal, boss. he said slowly, as if belatedly realizing he meant it. end
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anzelliiu
11-07-2011
06:21 PM ET (US)
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Ýðîòè÷åñêèé: ñìîòðåòü âèäåî îíëàéí ÷àò áåñïëàòíî, áåñïëàòíûé ýðî ÷àò, êàìåðà äëÿ âèäåî÷àòà, ÷àò áåç ðåãèñòðàöèè âîðîíåæ, ÷àò âèêò ðèíà áåñïëàòíî áåç ðåãèñòðàöèè, áåñïëàòíûé ÷àò ôîðóì, ÷àò íèæåãî îäñêèé áåç ðåãèñòðàöèè, ñîçäàòü ÷àò áåñïëàòíî áåç ðåãèñòðàöèè. Ñ éò chat.24lux.ru
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Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet 
10-27-2011
12:35 PM ET (US)
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thanks for publishing my poetry. here's another one you may like. arthur charles ford,sr.,poet/editor
SUCSEX
People, People the headlines say: Before society put you away Cast your votes, place your bets Make sure you get your dose of sucsex. Its two in one if you get all One will only get you balled The other keeps you on the screen And smitten your life in magazines. With beauty, brawn, oh yes! Education!! You challenge neighboring And third world nations. You sing, you dance, and act to script You break a leg and break a hip, You pierce a lip, you sink a ship Not really caring What happens next Sucsex! Sucsex! Sucsex! You build a mansion, but forget a deck You wear a clock around your neck, Sculpting wood and your anatomy You win a statue at the Academy. Spondee.spandex,trochee youre next The stress, the strain You change your name, A spoons too small, rehab.s your call You smoke, you drink Your agent thinks What songs the best? Sucsex! Sucsex! Sucsex! So! why do we call themStars? For theyre not out of reach! And they cant warm a beach! So! why do we call them Stars?
By: Arthur Charles Ford,Sr.,poet P.O. Box 4725 Pittsburgh,Pa. 15206-0725 1-866-234-0297 EM:wewuvpoetry@hotmail.com
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annastasii
10-27-2011
10:18 AM ET (US)
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Ýðîòè÷åñêèé: ñîçäàòü ÷àò çíàêîìñòâ, online âèäåî÷àò, âèäåî÷àò îíëàéí áåñïëàòíî äåâóøêè, âèäåî÷àò ýìî, ôëåê âèäåî÷àò, ÷àò ñåêñ ïî âåáêå, ñåêñ ÷àò áåç ðåãèñòðàöèè êðîâàòêà, ñòàëêåð ÷àò áåñïëàòíî. Ñàéò chat.24lux.ru
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Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet
08-02-2011
07:06 AM ET (US)
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MY BROTHER,CYRIL (1951-1981) In the early part of an evening of our lives, my brother and I felt like we were trapped in a net made of glue; New Orleans humidity was the same as the temperature-ninety. After we drank some cheap wine, I noticed he had drifted off to sleep with ashes hanging from fifty per cent of his cigarette. The breeze coming from the window was cool; he sneezed; I went to cover him with a blanket, and of course put the cigarette out, but the ashes fell to the floor,and dissipated to the command of the wind. I threw the blanket over him, put what was left of his ashed-cigarette in the ashtray,then went to sleep. I was sixteen, he was two years less, but more curious; he was the one that found a way to get into our house without a key,camouflage Mrs. Katys lemon pies until they disappeared, and find someone old enough to purchase wine for us. But on the other hand, I soon proved to be a partner in his mischiefs-I mastered all his antics. He was good in biology, being the first to explain to me the process of photosynthesis , I was a wiz in mathematics, mentally computing what our change should be before the grocer added it up on the cash register. We supplemented each other perfectly. My brother and I did practically did everything together; we went to school, church, parties,fishing,swimming,played ball, and to secure our togetherness even more, we dated girls who were sisters. Years later, in the late part of an evening of my life, I sat staring(after drinking a bottle of Don Pernignon Champagne)across the room. I noticed that the breeze had become wild and colder, but this time it did not interfere with my brother or his ashes, for they both were resting well in the hermetically sealed urn on my altar.
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xrumers
08-02-2011
06:22 AM ET (US)
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07-28-2011
09:15 PM ET (US)
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07-27-2011
01:10 AM ET (US)
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06-18-2011
02:48 PM ET (US)
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06-18-2011
12:26 AM ET (US)
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06-17-2011
02:23 PM ET (US)
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Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet
06-16-2011
06:21 AM ET (US)
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GUIDELINES(thepoetbandcompany.yolasite.com)
Dear Literary Artist,
The Poet Band Company is asking for poetry(maximum,40 lines and prose,300 words) to be submitted for possible publication in THE POETRY EXPLOSION NEWSLETTER(THE PEN), issued quarterly(January,April,July,October). JULY'S ISSUES ARE DEDICATED TO ROMANTIC POETRY!!! OCTOBER'S ISSUES SPOTLIGHTS HOLIDAY POETRY. ALL OTHER ISSUES ARE OPENED TO THE WRITER. We publish poems and prose pertaining to all subjects(love,holidays,current events,etc.) and in any form(sonnets,haiku,rhyme,free and blank verse,etc.). Simultaneous and pre-published submissions are accepted. Bio-sketches are optional. Presently, we are not paying monetarily, but if your works are selected, we'll send you a free copy of the issue in which they(it) appear(s). Send us your best!!!!! All submissions must be typed and of camera ready quality. Submit a maximum of five works(a L.S.A.S.E. with correct postage if you want your works that are not accepted for publication to be returned).
Note: If sending currency from another country, please send International Coupons(2 per dollar amount) or a Money Order or Check written in U.S. Dollars from a U.S. Bank.
If you never have been published, this may be your chance!!! Thanks for your love of the written word!!!!!!!!
Subscriptions: $20.00 yearly(4 issues) or $38.00 for 2 years. Send $4.00 for a sample issue. Outside the U.S.A. , and Canada, $30.00 U.S Dollars for 4 issues or $58.00 for 2 years.Make Check or Money Order payable to: Arthur C. Ford P.O. Box 4725 Pittsburgh,PA.15206-0725 EM:wewuvpoetry@hotmail.com
POEMS ARE CRITIQUED AT 15 CENTS PER WORD!!!!
ADVERTISING RATES:
Size One issue Four issues 1/8 page $10.00 $35.00 ¼ page $20.00 $60.00 ½ page $40.00 $120.00 Full Page $80.00 $270.00 Ads must be camera ready and printed in black and white. Logos are accepted.
Yours in Words,
Arthur C. Ford TOLL FREE: 1-866-234-0297
BIO-SKETCH OF Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet
Arthur C. Ford,Sr. was born and bred in New Orleans,LA. He earned a Bachelor of Science Degree from Southern University in New Orleans,where he studied creative writing and was also a member of the Drama Society. He has visited 45 states in America and resided for two years in Brussels,Belgium(Europe).
His poetry(lyrics) and prose have been published throughout America,Canada,etc. His next book,Reasons for Rhyming(Volume 1) will be released in the near future.
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