Week 554 (June 16-30) Stories Topic: Something Unexpected

[C. J., Cool yet firm like ice]

You have until June 30th to post a story, and from July 2nd to the 8th we will vote for which one we thought was best!

Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a story previously used in this group. (Note: Only one submission per person is allowed).

Your story should be between 300 and 3,500 words long

REMEMBER! A short story is not merely a scene. It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

This week’s topic is: Something Unexpected

The rules are pretty loose. You could write a story about anything that has to do with the subject/photo but it must relate to the topic somehow.

Most of all have fun!

[Andres]

Something Unexpected
320 words

The banners were raised in wonderous precision announcing the arrival of several kingdoms and their champions from across Zanderia. Each knight entered upon a giant destrier as their flag barer ran ahead of them. Thousands of citizens representing each kingdom roaring in approval.

It was well rumored that Zetaria’s king was on the verge of financial collapse, that this tournament was held in high hopes of their champion bringing in a treasure of riches to restore their nobility. However, the other kingdoms were here to prevent that.
Finally, Zetaria’s champion entered. Their destrier galloping in sideways as the local folk threw rotting cabbages and tomatoes in disapproval. They dismounted, the heaviness of armor giving a weighty thud as they dropped onto the dusty floor. The other champions following suit.

As their steeds were lead away, tables were brought forth. Commonly in melee battles these were used to display a variety of weapons for partake in such tournaments.

Eagerly the champions circled around, awaiting impatiently to see what would bring Zetaria’s destruction. Then, in an unprecedented move the champion of Zetaria removed their helmet for all to witness the princess, Zelda, standing before them.

Of course, it all made sense. The princess was credited with winning back much of the royal family’s squandering’s. It was most likely her whom organized this tournament to rebuild Zetaria’s kingdom. But she was slender and womanly, not at all a candidate for vicious battle.

Pages placed several packages in front of each champion. Upon the removal of the cover, stacks of colored coins and playing cards were revealed. The knights peered at each other perplexed, flabbergasted with confusion.

The princess sat easily gathering the cards in her nimble fingers then sliding them from hand to hand with such sorcery that the other knights recognized their folly immediately. This was something unexpected, they had all entered a poker tournament and without contest, delivered their kingdoms fortunes.

[Garrison]

AUTHOR: Garrison Kelly
TITLE: Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 1
GENRE: Animal Fantasy
WORD COUNT: 2023 (I didn't do that on purpose)
RATING: PG for fantasy violence



In a world where something unexpected happened every day, Lucy the Hammer used her time off to chase her favorite tennis ball back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She missed doing this so much as a non-humanoid puppy that she ran after said ball with excited pitter-patters, galloping like the world’s smallest and peppiest horse. Her long Chiweenie tongue hung down in anticipation for finally getting her beloved toy in her mouth. But once she snapped her jaws, her fellow squad mates would throw it in the opposite direction. Even with whiny cries of, “Give it back, give it back!”, her much bigger humanoid dog companions got their chuckle-filled kicks out of playing keep-away.

And then the towering bulldog caught the tennis ball and waved it around out of Lucy’s reach. Even after jumping her highest, her feet dangling in the air, she could never snatch her coveted treasure. And then the much bigger dog reached down and rolled Lucy on her back, tickling her stomach and getting her to giggle like the little child she always wanted to be. Somewhere in this playful session, the bulldog shoved the tennis ball in Lucy’s mouth and then she began to relax on the stony ground. Her squad mates continued to horse-laugh, but these were jovial laughs rather than mean ones.

The longer Lucy the Hammer could live in the past and forget the Hammer part of her name, the happier she became as evidenced by her glowing grin and wagging butt. Playing with tennis balls, chewing pork sausages, getting belly rubs and ear scratches, and running across wheat fields unhindered by the burdens of humanhood. But as heavenly as these fantasies were for Lucy, it didn’t change the fact that she was laying on a cold stone ground this whole time.

This place wasn’t her happy home. It was a hydroelectric powerplant in the shape of a pyramid. Water flowed through channels like a gentle creek and powered a spinning magic crystal, the essence of energy in a region already full of magic and hope. Lucy carried a war hammer for a reason. Her squad mates carried swords, maces, and axes for the same reason. Their duties as soldiers were calling to them. War was never the answer, but they protected their homeland from those who thought it was.

“Razor Ripley is here! Salute!” And just like that, Lucy spit her prized possession out of her mouth and joined her squad mates in a straight line, barking their heads off until their voices echoed across the sky. While her much bigger brethren had muscle and power behind their voices, Lucy’s bark was that of a yappy murder victim despite nobody ever laying a finger on her. That’s just how she was.

But the bass in her squadron’s voices couldn’t compare to the monstrous bellow that came out of Razor Ripley’s skeletal mouth. “SHUT UP, STUPID DOGS!” That was the name of their group and upon hearing it, the dogs did what they were told before tensing up military style, weapons in hand, ready for a job.

Ripley cracked his bony knuckles and wiggled his fingers for extra effect. “I’m certain you all have heard the news of a new enemy on the horizon. Except we’ve faced him before and succeeded. But even in this enemy’s new form, we will succeed again. King Harrison Gaines, the brother of our beloved ruler James Gaines, has possessed the body of my lovable lapdog Loki. Loki the Skull as he’s now called is the new vessel for chaos and destruction. King James is busy securing other powerplants here on Rainbow Ranch. We are here to secure this one. Harrison made the vast majority of animals into humanoids expecting them to want revenge on those who dumped them here. When he didn’t get what he wanted, he went insane and incited the violence himself. We can’t let him do that for a second time. Even with his necromantic abilities, we are one! We are strong! We will put him back into the dirt where he belongs! Do you all understand that?!” The dogs barked their loudest. “I can’t hear you! Sound off like you mean it!”

The dogs barked even louder than before, but Lucy was the most animated despite her diminutive form. She swung her hammer all around while declaring, “Let me at him, Razor Ripley! I’ll give him the old one-two-buckle my shoe!” In her overzeal, Lucy spun around and belly flopped onto the ground, her hammer spinning like a beer bottle until it skittered to the tip of Ripley’s toe. Her squad partners gasped in horror while Lucy smiled nervously at her boss.

With a glare on his face that could shake entire civilizations due to his fiery green eyes, Ripley picked up the hammer and marched over to the fallen Lucy, who was trembling and sweating in terror. She gulped a wad of saliva while Ripley’s leather sandaled footsteps echoed off the ground. Ripley leaned down. “On your feet, this instance!” Lucy sprung back up without a second thought before her hammer was given back to her. With a low and sinister tone, her boss said, “I hope you finish your job better than you started. Because if I have to have this conversation with you again…you won’t enjoy the outcome!”

Lucy gulped again. “Yes, sir.” Out of fantasy-land and into the harsh realities of Rainbow Ranch, a place whose survival hinged on her being the best soldier she could be. There was a reason she wore metal armor instead of a wool sweater that her grandma loved dressing her in. There was a reason she carried a hammer and not a tennis ball that reeked of dog breath. There was a reason everyone was glaring at her for literally falling behind on work. It was time to put down the toys and pick up weapons of war that no dog had any business carrying.

The Shut Up Stupid Dogs alongside Razor Ripley marched back and forth in a patrol unit looking for any sign of trouble. The gigantic bulldogs and pitbulls marched with a purpose. Razor Ripley floated through the air like a specter aching for his next haunt. Lucy just stared at the stone floor with the weight of early failure dragging down on her neck. She didn’t want to let anybody down. She wanted to be the goodest of good girls. She also wanted one of her squad mates to scratch her behind the ears and tell her it was okay.

In the glow of a purple magical aura shadowing behind her, Lucy had one more opportunity to prove herself. There he was in the flesh and fur: Loki the Skull, donning a black wizard’s robe with a hood barely concealing his murderous face. No lapdog should ever have been described that way, but here they were.

“This is the end of the line, Harrison!” threatened Razor Ripley as he gathered green energy in his bony hands. His soldiers readied their weapons and backed him up. Lucy once again shook in terror as she stood behind her boss, not out of solidarity, but out of fear of the magical lunatic that floated before them. “Ozzie the Wise has no time or tolerance for you! None of us do! What you’ve done was inexcusable! Now go back to bed, sweet king!”

Razor Ripley threw fireballs and lightning bolts at Loki the Skull while the dog soldiers attempted to rush into battle, cutting their foe off at all angles. Lucy held her war hammer in her trembling hands, clearly out of her league with this evil wizard. Despite having a clear numbers disadvantage, Loki the Skull held his own with rings of electricity and stardust emitting from his aura. The soldiers were swept off their feet while Ripley was blown backwards by the magical tremors. Ripley gave cover fire to his troops while they looked for an opportunity to flank past Loki’s magic and get within striking distance. Every time a soldier thought he had a chance, he was blown back even further with a fiery ring.

Lucy continued to bite her nails and watch in horror while one of her comrades was hanging onto the side of the building, scratching, clawing, and yelping for help. Loki smiled sickeningly as he slowly zeroed in on what would be his first kill of the battle. Loki’s paws electrified, his breath emitted clouds of poison, and his laugh made his evil intentions as clear as the crystal that powered this plant.

Lucy didn’t know which one she feared more: Loki the Skull or knowing she would let her squad down if she continued standing there without doing anything. The sight of Razor Ripley scowling at her and her squad mate dangling on the edge brought forth a fiery heart of her own. She readied her hammer and pitter-pattered across the ground, ducking underneath Loki’s defensive rings. And then she jumped in the air, one mighty swing of her hammer coming down on Loki’s foot.

Harrison’s vessel howled like werewolf while dancing around holding his cartoonishly thumping and pumping foot. Lucy wasted no time in pulling her friend back onto the building while Loki took a plunge of his own. Soon Loki’s cries of pain and terror grew quieter and quieter until he splashed into a lower bank of water like a turd in a toilet bowl.

Lucy’s squadron, Razor Ripley included, gazed upon her with shock and awe. She could only give a nervous smile in response. And then the dogs cheered and hoisted her on their shoulders in victory. “Congratulations, Lucy, you did it! Woo-hoo!” said the tennis ball-wielding bulldog from earlier. The hip-hip-hoorays continued as Lucy was launched higher and higher into the air. She laughed and screamed, “WEE!” while Razor Ripley crossed his arms and smiled benevolently in what seemed like the first time since forever.

Then the sound of cackling fire and electricity started up again and the next time Lucy was caught, she toppled her squad mates. “No…NO!” she cried while Loki the Skull floated right back up to the top of the powerplant, evil energy swirling around him and downward eyes glaring holes through all of his opponents. This time everybody backed up in fear, but Lucy’s newfound confidence led her tiny legs into battle once again. But this time, Loki brought backup in the form of the water from the river bank he had just splashed in. It rose in a tidal wave behind him, taller than the highest trees and more destructive than a biblical flood.

The wave crashed down upon the Shut Up Stupid Dogs and Razor Ripley, washing them down the side of the pyramid-like powerplant. The squad mates and Ripley screamed their heads off as they were being tossed around by the turbulence. Lucy, on the other hand, squealed in delight like she was riding a water slide. “WEEEEEEEEEE!” She even let out a few giggles while her friends were probably defecating themselves knowing they were going to get squished by whatever was down there. Sure enough, the wave hit the bottom of the pyramid and splashed the Shut Up Stupid Dogs and their boss every which way.

The end of the “ride” came when Lucy smacked her butt on the dirty ground and giggled one last time. “That was fun! Let’s do that again, guys!” No response from or sight of her squad mates. “Guys?! Guys, where are you?!” She pitter-pattered on the dirt ground looking for her friends, crying for help and howling in her murder victim way. Just like the day she was abandoned on this once desolate island, Lucy the Hammer was all alone and she knew it. Her head hung low, but not without her blowing the water out of her ears and letting out a deep sigh. Just like the patrol at the top of the pyramid, she trudged along the ground not knowing where to go or how to recover from a failure she thought was her fault. “Where’s my tennis ball?” she softly whined.

[James]

Andres wrote: "Something Unexpected
320 words

The banners were raised in wonderous precision announcing the arrival of several kingdoms and their champions from across Zanderia. Each knight entered upon a giant ..."

Hey Andres, thanks for sharing! I loved the story. I knew something strange was happening when there were no weapons brought out but the twist of the poker tournament caught me completely off guard. Great job!

[James]

Garrison wrote: "AUTHOR: Garrison Kelly
TITLE: Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 1
GENRE: Animal Fantasy
WORD COUNT: 2023 (I didn't do that on purpose)
RATING: PG for fantasy violence



In a world where something unexpected ..."

Hey Garrison! Thanks for sharing! I thought you did a great job of representing humanized-dog hybrids and how they might view the world and interact. The ball was a great theme throughout the story connecting Lucy's past to her present. Thanks for sharing!

[James]

AUTHOR: James Meadows
TITLE: Expectations
GENRE: Fiction
WORD COUNT: 1521
RATING: G

Stefan and Jacob hurried through the thick stadium crowd trying to reach the exit before the doors closest to where they parked were closed for the fireworks display. Stefan grumbled as he walked. He was in a bitter mood. His team had lost the game.

Stefan hated when his team lost. Tickets cost a fortune! Food and drinks cost an arm and a leg! And all the other sides like popcorn and ice cream just made things worse. Of course, he would write most of it off as a business expense, since they were treating a potential client and their family to the game. Still, Stefan and Jacob’s small LLP wasn’t rich, and the money spent for the game was far too much for sitting around watching your team get humiliated.

As he mumbled his discontent, a large man moving the other direction in the crowd stepped out of the flow and right in front of Stefan. He was a powerfully built man with a stout upper body that was about as wide as both Stefan and Jacob combined. His size threw the entire moving line into disarray as he blocked almost three-fourth of the traffic trying to move toward the exit.

Why he was standing in front of them was a complete mystery to Stefan. Apparently it was to the man also. Because he just stood there for several seconds gazing around with a confused expression on his face. Then, he turned around and started walking the other direction at the slowest pace imaginable.

The traffic flowing toward the exit started funneling around the man, trying to squeeze past him as they continued their way to the doors. But, there was nowhere for Stefan and Jacob to go. The crowd funneling around the man left no opening for them to squeeze in and they were stuck behind the man for several minutes before he finally moved back into the lane of traffic moving the other direction.

“Just what we need,” Stefan mumbled to Jacob. “Some inconsiderate jerk steps in front of us and blocks the entire line without any consideration for all the other people around him. What do you expect these days? You can’t expect people to show empathy toward others anymore.”

Jacob didn’t respond. Stefan noticed he was gazing toward the nearby entrance to the men’s restroom and smiling. Stefan shook his head. He had known Jacob since they met at a business conference a number of years ago and decided to become partners. Jacob was a great leader and had a talent for networking, but he did tend to have his head in the clouds.

Stefan hurried through the doors, even as the guards started to move the cords and ropes to block the exit. As he emerged outdoors, Stefan was immediately greeted by a wall of noxious fumes. A large group of smokers had taken up residence right beside the doors, puffing cigarettes, drinking beer, chatting, and unconsciously creating a massive wall of secondhand smoke that everyone had to pass through.

“Inconsiderate jerks,” Stefan hissed. “It’s bad enough that they want to poison their own bodies, why do they have to inconvenience the rest of us. In a world where people are starving, having to work two jobs to pay their bills, and debt is shooting out the ceiling, these people apparently feel they have so much wealth that they can throw their cash and their health away on cigarettes and beer. What do you expect these days? You can’t expect people to use their money to better their lives, their families lives, and the world around them instead of trashing their limited resources and health.”

Stefan glanced at Jacob. But, again, Jacob wasn’t looking at him. He was gazing down the opposite side of the street toward a group of homeless people camping out along the sidewalk. Stefan watched Jacob’s lips again curve into a smile. Stefan wasn’t sure what Jacob was thinking but it clearly wasn’t about anything Stefan was telling him. Stefan rolled his eyes and continued forward.

The pair continued along the sidewalk and past various parking lots. The crowd was starting to grow thinner as people headed different directions or stopped to visit. There was still a decent-sized group around them when they came to the first crosswalk not monitored by a police officer. Stefan and Jacob’s parking lot was on the opposite side, so they joined the crowd of about forty people waiting for the light to switch to “walk”.

As they waited, a brief lull appeared in the traffic and an impatient couple strolled into the street against the “no walking” sign in an effort to save a few minutes. Almost instantly, the entire crowd around Stefan moved into the street, too. Most had their heads in their phones or were visiting. None seemed to be paying any attention to the fact that the “No Walk” sign was still showing and they were now blocking approaching vehicles, who still had a green light.

“Freakin’ Lemurs!” Stefan gawked. “It is bad enough that the couple really thinks illegally crossing the street is going to save them so much time that it is worth inconveniencing others. But all these other people just walked out right after them. After all, if those two can be inconsiderate and create an inconvenience for others then it must be okay for everyone to be inconsiderate and inconvenience others. What do you expect these days? You can’t expect people to be paying attention or not act selfishly when they see someone else getting away with it.”

Stefan glanced at Jacob. Of course, Jacob wasn’t paying attention now either. He was busy gazing at a crowd crossing through the parking lot next to them. Stefan couldn’t tell what he was looking at but Jacob seemed quite transfixed by it. Again, Stefan noticed his companion was smiling.

What did I expect? He thought.

After a moment, the sign switched to “walk” and Stefan led Jacob across the street and toward their company car. For a moment, they walked in silence. As they approached the vehicle, Stefan shook his head, as he thought about all the frustrating moments during their walk.

“Why are all the bad things in their world so predictable and expected?” Stefan blurted out. “Wouldn’t it be nice if the expected was the unexpected?”

“Maybe it is,” Jacob said, speaking for the first time during their walk.

Stefan stopped beside the car and turned to face Jacob, who was giving him a wry smile.

“What do you mean?” Stefan asked.

“Well, I think it’s all about your expectations,” Jacob continued.
“After all, while you were worrying about the lack of empathy shown by the man blocking us, I was watching a man coming out of the bathroom take a moment to thank the nearby janitor for ‘everything he does to help keep the stadium clean and nice for the fans’. You should have seen how that janitor beamed with appreciation for being acknowledged.

“And, while you were complaining about the inconsideration and wastefulness of the smokers, I was watching a couple of ballpark employees bring out excess food from the stadium to the homeless people camped outside. And, while you were talking about how people use others’ selfishness to justify their own selfishness, I watched a teenager break apart from his group of friends in the parking lot, and go back to offer a jump to an elderly couple having car problems.”

Jacob grinned.

“You didn’t see any of those things, of course,” Jacob continued. “Because you weren’t expecting to see them. But I was. On the other hand, I failed to notice many of the frustrations you were experiencing because I wasn’t expecting to see them and you were. Maybe if you want the unexpected to become expected, you need to change what you are expecting. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

Stefan hesitated for a second considering these words. While he did, Jacob crossed in front of him and headed for the driver’s side.

“I’ll drive us back to the office,” Jacob said in a cheerful voice. “After all, we’ve got paperwork to finish for these new clients we’re about to land.”

Stefan headed for the passenger side.

“We haven’t landed them, yet!” Stefan noted.

“Oh, but I expect us to!” Jacob replied, giving a shrewd smile as he climbed into the car.

Stefan smiled as he followed. Jacob may have some crazy expectations, but that was certainly one expectation that Stefan could support. The others he’d have to think about more.

With a rev, the car sprang to life and Jacob begin backing up. As they did, Stefan watched a man in a team jersey snatch a doll from the ground and race forward toward a man in an opposing team’s uniform who was pushing a sleeping child in a stroller. The first man tapped the other to get the man’s attention. After a brief exchange, the first man placed the doll in the arms of the sleeping child, who had apparently dropped it.

“Huh,” Stefan thought to himself. “That was unexpected.”

Stefan gave a small smile and their car pulled away.

[Garrison]

Thanks for the awesome feedback, James! I'm glad you enjoyed my story! :)

[Andres]

Great job James. Some people view the glass half empty while others view it half full.

I view the glass as magical, realizing the ice has now melted and halfway refilled itself.

[C. J., Cool yet firm like ice]

New polls will be up sometime before Saturday. Just a heads up. Post your poem/story soon if you haven't yet. Thank you!

[C. J., Cool yet firm like ice]

Title: A Turn of Events
Author: C. J.
Word count: 1832

Story:

Terry got up early because he had nothing much to do as a working man this day. He made a generous pot of coffee and poured it into his old diner cup.


He stared at it longingly, thinking of something he dare not speak of out loud.


His hand covered his face. "Son of a…" He paused. He downed his drink bitterly as if he was trying to quell the phrase coming out of his mouth.


He nibbled on an old piece of dry bread when his friend suddenly rang him, taking him by surprise. His eyebrows rose slowly and a smile spread across his worn face.


He put the cell to his ear. "Yep?"


"Hey Terry." The voice speaking to him sounded like music to his ears.


He had few friends in his life. Heck, he had to leave a lot of them to pursue his business for his restaurant escapade. But Terry also found out quick who his friends he could lean on were and who wanted to sell his needs short.


And Terry knew how to do business. He sorted out the people that were not needed.


"Hey Jonesy. You got my deals done?"


Jonesy sounded uncomfortable and on the spot.


"What? What 'deal?'"


Terry guffawed.


"I'm just jerking your chain! Listen, I've got a lot on my mind… can I walk and talk with ya?"


"Uhh… sure. I don't have anything going on right now."


"Swell!"

Terry hung up, threw on a shirt haphazardly, and tripped on a small stack of boxes as he went out the door.


-------


"How long have I known ya? Sixteen years?"


"Yeah."


"That has been a mighty long time."


"Yeah but I wish it was longer. You'd have met my old man."


"Yeah?"


"He was a great businessman. Like you."


Terry eyed his pal. Wearing a dirtied up t-shirt and jeans that seemed to have been dragged through heck and back.


"I know all that." Terry quickly changed the subject. "But hey, I know you don't like to wear good threads in public but can I at least buy ya a new shirt?"

His face lit up as he made a little yet adult-style giggle. It impressed Terry that somehow twenty-eight-year old Jonesy never became twisted or corrupted by the cruel world people saw every day.


He put his arm around his good pal. Jonesy piped up to answer.


"No, that's okay. I still work as a janitor at that place on the weekends. I'm always in the back; no customers ever have to see me. I don't mind wearing this."


As they walked Joney turned the tables after giving an inquisitive glance.


"Oh but how about you, Mr. Restaurant Owner." he gave a gentle yet mocking laugh. "You look out of place. Where's your usual suit and tie?"


"You forgot? It's a Wednesday. It's slow those days."


"Oh yeah. You sometimes take a break from that on Wednesday. Fernie Pepper takes over then, right? Assistant manager, not his sister."


"Yeah yeah. You sure know a lotta names that I work with."


"I should go and eat at your restaurant sometime. Or at least check it out."


"Sure, go ahead." Then Terry laughed knowing he never had before and wouldn't expect it to happen soon.



They reminisced. It took Terry's mind off of the struggles of the day before as well as stresses on future plans.


"It's been three years you have had this eatery, T.'s Delicatessen, right? How close to Pittsburgh is it?"


"Come on. Be up front. You don't even try to see it so why are you so caring about my place now?" Terry then laughed after he made the quip.


Jonesy had a sorrowful look on his face. "I don't know. Maybe one day I will see it…"


A distance further the duo found themselves encountering one of Jonesy's pals.


The guy jumped up to him and threw his hand out.


"Hey. Jonesy!"


He shook his hand and then Jonesy grabbed and pulled him in for a close hug.


"How are you buddy?"


 Terry saw the opportunity realizing he had to make a phone call.


He dialed Fernie. "Hey bud. How is it? Ya have it all managed? Yep. Okay. I'll see ya tomorrow then."


Beep.


His eyes appeared to glaze over as if something dark crossed them. Then peered at his friend in idle chat.


What they were in the midst of didn't interest Terry at all. He went over to wedge between the chatters.


"Do you have the number to that place, Jonesy?" 


"No but go down that direction Hunter Avenue and if you go in they should help you out. They allow walk-ins."

"Thank you, my friend."

"Anytime Bri."


Terry threw up his hands. "Well, you know what? We should head over to your house now. Do ya got anything to eat?"


He peered back and forth between the guy and Terry. "Yeah I think I can rustle something up."


"Your friend coming with us?"


The apparently named "Bri" was caught off guard. His eyes flashed, almost startled at the gesture but then he felt he was intruding.


"No. I'm okay. I'll head off now."


"Okay…" Jonesy said a touch sad.

Brian kept his eyes on Terry as they moved off. He peered at the back of his shirt. Was it inside out? There was a print of a phrase but it was masked by the shirt itself and looked like it was in reverse. What was underneath that?


This was such a strange guy, Brian appeared to think! "Uhh. Nice to meet you…" he said as if to the widening open air. "I guess."


The guy then looked down and kicked an imaginary rock. Looking torn he realized he was away from a cell phone and might call somebody about his suspicion. Was he paranoid or what? He walked home.


-----


Jonesy walked to his own front door. But he paused.

"Oh. I can't find the key."

"Does your friend know who to call about that?"

"No. He doesn't have a cell right now."

"Oh."


He grabbed an extra key under his mat.


"Thank goodness I have nothing in here."


The door squeaked open slowly and soon they both stepped inside.


"I can make you coffee. Would you like that?"


"Uh… yeah I guess so." Terry said sarcastically, making Jonesy smile again.


"Hey, you know my dad was so good at his jobs over the years, but did you see that they put him in the papers?"


"Yeah?"


He ran off to a corner and rustled up a pile of items then he paused as he revealed one article he kept in lamination.


He stared at it as if witnessing it for the first time then walked towards Terry with his arms still outstretched.


As Terry received it he scanned the headline: DELAWARE MAN OPENS LAST RESTAURANT. RETIRES AFTER NEARLY 60 YEARS.


He looked at the pic as a burly guy who looked nothing like Jonesy and with a sly grin was shaking hands with a mayor. His jacket was draped over his back like he was too cold, a tad frail looking and leaning over.


"Wow. Is that the place you talked about? Maybe... the original location?"


"Nah. It wasn't anywhere near there." Jonesy seemed to immediately digress. "He went to school first. He had to train to be a manager then he started his own business."

"Uh huh."

"Then after getting cleared by the bank had a place in this state here. You think people forgot about it, it was so long."


Terry seemed to pipe in with pride. "I never had to go to school to get where I was." 


Jonesy turned to smile. "Yeah… I guess you're one of the naturals, huh?"


"You said you think people forgot where his place was. What was the number?"


"Huh? I don't think that place is open. You really can't really call there anymore."


Terry laughed. "No. The address number."


There was a silence in the air. He handed him his cup. Jonesy then smiled and looked away.


"That's an unusual question."


Terry sloshed the black drink around as he spoke.


"Your dad then was hurt. Taken to the hospital?"


"Yeah. He died a month later. Guy came in and robbed him in his own house. Took everything that wasn't nailed down and ran off. It's why I don't have many things here. You know… I have nothing. Don't want to make the same mistake he did."


"Uh huh. That place?"


"1785 on Union Avenue."


"You mean the school?"


"No. That's 1416…"


Jonesy looked like his eyes popped open. He then got calmer as Terry sipped his brew.


"Wow. This is good!"


"Thanks. I came up with the mix myself."


As he walked off to another spot in the one-floor apartment he then turned his attention back to his guest.


His feet rumbled as he moved swiftly towards him.


"Oh yeah Terry. Speaking of, how is your business go--"


Terry struck Jonesy across the face with a trophy on the radiator. Red crimson spurted across the room and just as fast his good pal lie on his own floor, head back at an impossible angle, hands shaking from the burst of trauma.


"Oh. My business? It's terrible. But you don't seem to think about it or care. You know you claim I'm a 'natural' at being the owner of the Delicatessen? Nope. I'm so bad I thought these past three years there's no end to this. I hate this. I want a redo in life."


He squatted down as he talked to him on the floor, not a care noticeable one might have seen.


Jonesy could not "see" a thing. He struggled to breathe as his existence waned.


Terry continued. "I saw that redo when I realized something. You lied to me for about sixteen years. You have nothing?"


He scanned the house and found it barely noticeable. A safe.


"I know your daddy left you a pretty bunch of pennies. What's in here? A thousand? A mil? Thanks for telling me your secret by the way."


He did the combination. It was digital. 1. 4. 1. 6. Beep of confirmation. 


"My buddy Fernie is working with me. I called him to burn the place down just a moment ago. T's Delicatessen is at least good for one thing. Insurance."


He seemed giddy as he found envelopes to stuff with money.


"Maybe I will let him keep that and I'll just keep yours. Or maybe I'll," he used finger quotes "'visit' him and take that too. I don't know. The world's my oyster!"


He took off his shirt and turned it right side in. The logo and his restaurant were displayed in ornate letters. "Wow. Good thing your friends don't know about this place. I hope."


He stood at the door and smiled.


"Whether you live or die I am starting a new life. I am moving tonight! I guess you were just an innocent lamb in all of this. Oh well. Goodbye."


He left walking back to his place down Hunter Avenue with a little skip and a jump.


It seemed a perfect crime.


If only he had known Jonesy's friend was Brian Terwilliger, who happened to be a reporter for the local paper.

[James]

Hey C.J., thanks for sharing the story. I liked the twist at the end with the reporter.

If you are open to constructive feedback (otherwise just skip this), I have to admit that I found the story a little hard to read. The way the story was written (with every non-dialogue sentence having its own paragraph) felt choppy and led to some challenges.

First, there were a large number of accompanying statements without identifiers of who was speaking. This made it difficult to tell who was talking at various times and I was forced to reread over again to figure out who was saying what.

B) Also, there were large sections (especially toward the end) where actions were being taken over and over by "He" without any proper names. Since they were all guys and there was no continuation between sentences because of the paragraphing, I wasn't sure which "He" was taking each action.

The story itself was good, though, and I appreciate your sharing.

[C. J., Cool yet firm like ice]

I appreciate the criticism and feedback. I didn't realize the story was a little difficult to read. I hope to improve the story more now!

[C. J., Cool yet firm like ice]

Polls will be up as late as tomorrow!

I hope to do this sooner than later Sunday!