A Couple Fights

A Couple Fights

While working on my third installment of McShane Mini-Mystery, I wrote this interaction between two characters. It may not make the cut, but I felt it needed to be put somewhere.

A couple fights

each tries to shout over the other to be heard

Voices and tension rise

Boy throws something at girl

it smashes against the wall, missing by a few feet

Boy is shocked he threw that, but continues to scream his argument

Girl is aghast, runs when her senses return

she reaches room, slams door, locks it to keep violence out

Boy knocks hard on door

feeling embarrassed, he begs girl for forgiveness

said if he wanted to hit her with it, he would have

It was just a stupid impulse.

she doesn’t answer

he pounds harder at the door, frustrated

she screams to go away

he pounds harder

she screams in frightened anger

the interior door succumbs to the brute strength thrown against it

it flies open

she screams in terror

he sees her fear as he approaches, tries to calm her with palms raised

she extends her own hand, shouts not to come nearer

he grabs her wrist, implores her to stop screaming, to hear him

She struggles. Against his strength, against the immobility, against the pain of his grip

he grips harder

Why won’t she just listen?

She screams again, hoping for mercy, praying for rescue

He watches her writhe as his ears ache from her screams

his throat is sore from trying to reach her

his anger pushes aside patience

Why won’t she just listen?

her scream is cut off by the back of his hand

in shock, he releases her

she crumples to the floor, tasting blood

he scolds himself

he didn’t mean to do that

he only wanted her to listen to what he had to say

she’s quietly sobbing now

but it doesn’t matter

he’s too embarrassed that he lost his temper

to exhausted to pursue the fight anyway

What were they fighting about?

He kneels to comfort her, to apologize

she slaps his hand away

he stands, rebuffed

resisting the urge to kick her, he leaves

before doing something he’d really regret

Roof Food Clothes

"Roof. Food. Clothes."
I heard him say,
though embarrassed deeply.

"These three things
are all you need,
the rest is luxury."

***

The four adults stood in the near-empty room in deep, awkward silence. My mom, my new dad, and my two new grandparents had watched the big truck pull away, and weren’t saying a  word to each other.

Earlier that day, just after lunch, my new grandparents had arrived to meet their son’s new wife and her three daughters. I was the youngest. Being only seven at the time, I didn’t understand my mother’s meaning when she told me they might not like me. I remember telling her that I liked everyone, and everyone likes me, so I was sure they would, too. She smiled and gave me a little hug and said ‘I hope so’.

Looking back at my youthful naivety, I realize she, and my Nana, had tried to explain to me what ‘catholic’ was and how my new dad’s parents didn’t want him to marry a woman with three daughters. My Nana had explained it to my older sisters, and they seemed to grasp the meaning. It escaped me completely.

My mother’s new husband, the man who became my dad, was from Portland, Maine. A place I imagined as a faraway land where handsome, happy men came from. I wasn’t far off the mark. Growing up in West Palm Beach, Florida did not give me great insight into snow-covered homes of Maine, where people were dependant upon each other through the blizzard conditions they faced throughout their lives.

Dad met mom when I was five. At that time my mom, two sisters and I were living in a house that had mice and other nefarious creatures. I recall the ones I feared the most (and still give me nightmares) were the flying cockroaches. But my new Dad would come over in his company truck, when he was supposed to be working, and kill them for me. He was my hero. I didn’t realize he had just stopped by to say ‘hi’ to my mom. It worked out to my benefit, nonetheless.

When Mom said yes to Dad’s marriage proposal, Dad bought a house with three bedrooms and one bathroom. It was pure luxury to my standard. My oldest sister, Sally, even got her own room.

Mom and Dad bought a whole house full of all new furniture, and we were threatened within an inch of our lives if we got caught jumping on it. Which, of course, we did. Then we got our butts whupped! So, the furniture was indeed off limits as trampolines.

I remember a little while later, Dad came home and wasn’t driving his truck. I asked where it went, and he said the boss kept it. But Dad said he was gonna get a new truck from a new place and I shouldn’t worry about it. I didn’t. He was my hero, and I didn’t worry about anything with him around.

My new grandparents had made the trip from Portland to West Palm Beach by car. Mom had expected them that morning, and tried to keep her three daughters clean for their arrival. But they didn’t get there until well after lunch.

I met my new grandmother, and I could tell she didn’t like me or my sisters at all. She smiled, but she wouldn’t let me hug her, and kept sniffing like she smelled something bad. My new grandfather allowed a brief hug, but said his back hurt from all that driving. After the three of us were introduced, we were told to go outside and play. I nearly ran. These two grown ups kept looking at my mom like they were mad at her, and I didn’t want to be there if my mom started yelling at them about being polite.

Sally sat on the back step while my other sister and I played. Soon we heard a big truck pull up to the front of the house. We went up the side yard and saw it was from the same store my mom and dad bought all the furniture from. Two big men got out and went inside to talk to my dad. They had papers in their hands and scowls on their faces.

As we watched, the two big men brought out our new couch and put it in their truck. Next they took out our new dinner table and chairs, then the beds and dressers. All the new stuff mom and dad bought just a little while ago, they were taking. I was going to go inside and ask why, but Sally wouldn’t let me. She made us go to the backyard and stay out of the way.

After we heard the truck leave, Sally let us go in the back door, after I promised I wouldn’t get in the way of the grown ups. That’s when I saw the four adults in the empty room. My new grandmother sniffed again, and walked out the front door. My new grandfather ran his fingers through his hair, looked at my mom and said, “Nice to meet you,” and he left, too. They got in their car and drove away without saying bye to us.

My mom started to cry. My dad put his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest and cried like I had never seen my mama cry before. He held her like that for a little bit, then I heard him say, “It’s OK. You told me before, we’ve got a roof, we’ve got food, and we’ve got clothes. Everything else is luxury.”

That’s how we were raised.

When I wanted money, I’d say “I need ten bucks”.

It was answered with “Excuse me? You need ten bucks?”

“Yeah, I need ten bucks to go skating tonight.”

“No, you want ten bucks. You only Need a roof, food and clothes.”

Those things my dad provided. And sometimes, he’d throw in ten bucks.

McShane - Four Files for A Life

(Ahem. Drum roll, please. Announcer, if you will...)

McShane Mini-Mystery Four Files for A Life is now on Kindle!

Mom has been taken. By who, and why, is given to Sam through cryptic clues. 

When the path seems clear, a bloody body gets in the way.

TA-DA

The second book in the installment is still around fifty pages beginning to end, so you can count on a fun, quick read that will leave you breathless!

I hope you enjoy, and please, leave a review on Amazon, if you would.

My Annoying Muse

My muse wouldn't let me sleep last night.

On Monday, at four in the morning, she woke me to share how she thought the opening of McShane's book three, Homicide by Hurricane should read. I told her that I’d only written the outline for book three, and that I still had to finish the edits on book two, Four Files for A Life in order to upload it to Kindle by Thursday. She didn't care. I, and my need for sleep, fought her for all we were worth. Now, at 6 a.m., I’m typing this tantrum on my laptop rather than writing what she is still demanding I write.

Stupid Muse.

Fine! Fine! I’m writing!

(grumble, grumble, grumble)

Coffee in One Hand, a Doob in the Other

Coffee in One Hand, a Doob in the Other

Sunday morning and I’m up at sunrise, with my sister Sue heavy on my mind. How she loved our road trips, which found us driving as the sun peeked over the horizon. Coffee in one hand and a doob in the other. I should tell you by the time we reached our 50's I didn't partake. I'll let you figure out if I mean the coffee or the pot.

Suzy had one helluva smile. I sometimes thought the sun must be jealous because it couldn’t compete with the beautiful light shining in her eyes. No matter how hard life beat her down, and it did so often, she came back with the same joy-filled smile, and a twinkle of mirth in her eye. She passed away a little more than a month ago. Suzy's smile won't be coming back this time.

The day I received the news of her passing is a permanent scar on my memory...

****

I answered the phone, even though I didn’t recognize the number. It was Sue’s friend McGee. She’s the sweetie that comes up to Orlando every so often with my sister Sue to visit.

From the tone of voice at her greeting, I knew something was wrong. Mimi McGee sounded as if she’d been crying. Fearful, I asked, “What’s up?”

“Suzy died.”

“What?”

“Suzy died.”

She could have been speaking Mandarin. The sounds she was making made no sense.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Suzy Died!”

My brain finally allowed me to comprehend the language. Yes, she spoke English. She said two words. But they couldn’t be right. My sister under the skin, friends since the age of four, was dead? She must be speaking about another Suzy.

“Are you there? Honey, talk to me.”

This had to be one of Suzy’s stupid jokes. We had a falling out the last time we’d seen each other, but we had spoken on the phone since then. She must be behind this absurdity.

“Honey, sweetie, talk to me. Are you okay?”

I realized I wasn’t breathing. I sucked in air as if I’d been punched in the gut. My voice came out much louder than I’d intended. “Is this some kind of sick, fucking joke?”

“No, baby, it’s not. Suzy’s dead.”

I pictured Suzy standing behind McGee, with a triumphant grin on her face. She got me this time, although this was sadistic, even by her standards. My cheeks were wet with tears as my anger flared.

“Tell me this is a sick joke!” I shouted.

McGee’s voice cracked as she said, “I wish I could. It’s not a joke.”

“No, no, no." I began to pace, touching every solid object I passed to confirm this wasn't a nightmare and I might still be in bed sleeping. "Tell me this ISN’T a prank because this would be one fucking sick joke.”

“It’s not a JOKE. Jesus Christ! I wish I was there. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this on the phone.”

I lived three hours away from Sue and McGee. Had she driven all the way to my house with this news it would have been an exercise in futility, because, I wasn’t home. My family was not with me. Alone at the moment, I didn’t have anyone to fall against.

Mom passed in a hospital bed with me standing beside her. Dad later passed the same way. The reality of beeping monitors, nurses and doctors bustling around, family and friends crying, that was death, as I understood it. This phone call could not be real.

I had to get hold of myself. McGee was crying, too. My insane denials helped no one.

“I’ll call you back,” I said while trying not to sob in her ear.

“Please, talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m good! I’ll call you back.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, McGee, I’ll call you back.” I ended the call and dropped the phone.

Nothing made sense. I gripped a chair as the world spun dizzily. My knees grew weak, and I collapsed to the ground. Even then, I had to hold on to that chair, for fear of slipping into the black chasm that threatened to swallow me. Breath came in sobs that I had no control over. I curled into a fetal position, allowing the tears to pool onto the floor.

Suzy was dead? We will never again have sunrise road trips, coffee chats, hour and a half phone conversations about nothing and everything. Oh my God! I didn’t even ask how. She’s gone, what difference does it make HOW? My sister Suzy was dead? Why?

****

I found out later she fell asleep and simply didn't wake. I'm still a little perturbed about that. She got a "Get Out Of Life Easy" card. That's how I want to go. Well, in another twenty-five years or so.

I'm Fifty-three and lost my dearest, closest, best friend. The Sister-Friend that told me someday we would share a rest-home room together. Years of laughter-filled memories give me comfort, and offer me peace in the quiet solitude of grief.

Have you been blessed with a friend like that? Call them now. Get together and shoot the shit. Have some coffee. Toke a number. Whatever. Cuz, I hate to use an old cliché, but...You never know.

I Hate Snakes

If you’re ever feeling brave, and you want to really test your mettle, you should come down to the Florida Everglades. Somehow, the Great Swamp has become home to far too many Burmese Pythons. Well, ‘somehow’ isn’t fair. Hurricane Andrew must accept partial responsibility for blowing away an exotic pet dealer's warehouse in Homestead, Florida. Along with that consideration, up until 2012 it was legal to ship these creatures as exotic pets to the US from their native Southeast Asia. Then, the proud new owners who were unprepared for the creatures to grow up to nineteen feet (yes, 19 Feet) in length, weigh up to two hundred pounds (yessss, 200 Pounds), and can consume an alligator for dinner, got rid of them by illegally releasing them into the swamp. Brilliant.

 

 
(shudder)

Here, in surroundings that the behemoths could thrive in, they proliferated. It is estimated up to two thousand of the invasive species live in the Everglades today. Some of the small wildlife which was once so populace in the ‘glades is down by almost 95% because of those carnivorous demons spawned in hell. We Floridians used to host an annual python hunt down in those parts, but the state canceled the hunt this year. Seems they decided you need pros to catch those buggers. To the amateur hunter’s credit, those pythons are a slippery lot.

I’ve no idea what we’re going to do about the problem. Although, we can hope that snake skin boots come back in high style with a quickness.

As the famous fedora-wearing professor would say, I hate snakes. The exception being garden snakes. Or coach whips. Label them what you like, I call them rat deterrents.

Because I hate rats even more than I hate snakes.

A Surprise Easter Blessing

A Surprise Easter Blessing

While walking the dog on a beach in Florida one Saturday night, I pulled the phone out of my pocket to take a picture of the regal pose she struck while watching the waves.

The picture turned out lovely. Unfortunately...

The next morning I realized the small case containing my driver’s license and debit card was missing. We turned the house inside out searching for the blasted thing. We scoured the back and front yards, the street on which we walked to the beach the night before, and the area we walked of the shoreline. The case being a slim and small item, we agreed the thing must have slipped out of my pocket when I pulled out my phone. The cards were gone with the high tide.

At least, that’s what we hoped and prayed.

Identity theft was no small concern. The awful stories of what people suffered through due to thieves of the ilk weighed heavy on my mind. But, instead of posting a fraud alert on my credit accounts, I decided to only report the debit card lost, paying five dollars for its replacement, and paid twenty-five dollars to have my driver’s license replaced. Should any fraudulent activity occur, I could at least provide proof of the replacements.

Hope springs eternal.

We went back to Orlando that Sunday, hoping against hope that nothing more would come of my loss. On Good Friday, I picked up the mail. A letter size envelope with a young person’s handwriting, which I did not recognize, was in amongst the sale flyers and bills. The return address showed Grand Rapids, Michigan. Opening the letter, my small case with the lost license and debit card tumbled out. The letter read,


J,

I found this in the ocean while visiting my Grandpa in Satellite Beach on 4/14/14. I hope that it finds its’ way back to you!

K


I wrote back a short thank you note and included a reward for K. The note still fell short of what I really wanted to say. To let K know just how wonderful she made me feel. About the faith in the next generation she instilled in me. About how when you believe things are truly lost, they just may find their way home again.

Thanks again, K. You are my surprise Easter blessing.