Piper Punches's Blog - Posts Tagged "book-excerpts"
Excerpt from The Murder Lawyer
Today, I thought I'd share an excerpt from Part Two of The Murder Lawyer. The setting for this part of the story took place at the Kirkwood Missouri Pacific Depot. If you're from the St. Louis area you might recognize it!
Excerpt from 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘸𝘺𝘦𝘳:
The yelling at first distant and garbled gets louder, clearer. He hears the sharp voices shouting his name. They tell him to get down, get on his knees. Put his hands on his head. He remains still, breathing evenly. He fixes his gaze on the playground across the railroad tracks. It’s where so long ago he took his children on Sunday mornings. Long before all-inclusive playgrounds and safety regulations changed the landscape. Back when metal slides in the summer were conquered and braved by adventurous five-year-olds. When teeter-totters and roundabouts were a child’s delight and parents’ nightmares. He recalls the time when Jason, only five or six, had lost his shoe and nearly his foot under the long-gone roundabout. How do thirty years fly by so fast? Wasn’t it just yesterday that he watched his children climb the jungle gym wearing their Reebok shoes and Jordache jeans? He recalls the way pride and relief filled his chest, worked its way into his fingertips and his hair follicles. Pride because he worked hard to give them this life. His American children. Relief that he and Linh survived long before Jason and Samantha were even imaginable.
The textbooks and history call people like him Boat People, refugees from Vietnam’s ravished cities after Saigon fell. That’s the term Samantha used when she did a project on the Vietnam War for her middle school history project. The images she glued onto poster board took Sam by surprise. To see how his life looked like from someone’s camera, a bird’s-eye view of horror and retreat. The images were one dimensional, but not his memories. He remembers running away from poverty and death’s lingering stench, piling onto over-crowded boats and watching their homeland become a speck in the distance and then disappearing forever. He recalls the pirates and the storms that threatened to capsize the boats every day as they floated toward refugee camps in Southeast Asia. He hates to remember those camps. Weeks spent living in conditions where food, water, and shelter were constantly fought and killed over. Once Sam and Linh were on their way to America, he finally felt the weight of an uncertain destiny fall from his shoulders.
Now what has he done?
His life since fleeing Vietnam had been one of reinvention and newfound joy. Owning a business, buying a home with indoor plumbing and electricity, and watching his children grow into successful people, were his and Linh’s greatest achievements. Last month, he’d become a grandpa for the third time. This is the life he envisioned that kept him moving forward. That made him so much more than just another boat person with a sad, tragic past.
The voices are on top of him now.
He looks down at the gun lying next to his feet and raises his arms slowly, placing his palms on either side of the back of his head.
What has he done?
Excerpt from 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘸𝘺𝘦𝘳:
The yelling at first distant and garbled gets louder, clearer. He hears the sharp voices shouting his name. They tell him to get down, get on his knees. Put his hands on his head. He remains still, breathing evenly. He fixes his gaze on the playground across the railroad tracks. It’s where so long ago he took his children on Sunday mornings. Long before all-inclusive playgrounds and safety regulations changed the landscape. Back when metal slides in the summer were conquered and braved by adventurous five-year-olds. When teeter-totters and roundabouts were a child’s delight and parents’ nightmares. He recalls the time when Jason, only five or six, had lost his shoe and nearly his foot under the long-gone roundabout. How do thirty years fly by so fast? Wasn’t it just yesterday that he watched his children climb the jungle gym wearing their Reebok shoes and Jordache jeans? He recalls the way pride and relief filled his chest, worked its way into his fingertips and his hair follicles. Pride because he worked hard to give them this life. His American children. Relief that he and Linh survived long before Jason and Samantha were even imaginable.
The textbooks and history call people like him Boat People, refugees from Vietnam’s ravished cities after Saigon fell. That’s the term Samantha used when she did a project on the Vietnam War for her middle school history project. The images she glued onto poster board took Sam by surprise. To see how his life looked like from someone’s camera, a bird’s-eye view of horror and retreat. The images were one dimensional, but not his memories. He remembers running away from poverty and death’s lingering stench, piling onto over-crowded boats and watching their homeland become a speck in the distance and then disappearing forever. He recalls the pirates and the storms that threatened to capsize the boats every day as they floated toward refugee camps in Southeast Asia. He hates to remember those camps. Weeks spent living in conditions where food, water, and shelter were constantly fought and killed over. Once Sam and Linh were on their way to America, he finally felt the weight of an uncertain destiny fall from his shoulders.
Now what has he done?
His life since fleeing Vietnam had been one of reinvention and newfound joy. Owning a business, buying a home with indoor plumbing and electricity, and watching his children grow into successful people, were his and Linh’s greatest achievements. Last month, he’d become a grandpa for the third time. This is the life he envisioned that kept him moving forward. That made him so much more than just another boat person with a sad, tragic past.
The voices are on top of him now.
He looks down at the gun lying next to his feet and raises his arms slowly, placing his palms on either side of the back of his head.
What has he done?
