Another 5-Wednesday month has come to an end and with it, another 5-part short story. It always seems to be that the idea for the story at the beginning of the month is much grander than what was actually written by the end. This story, at least, was a little easier to write and that was in part due to telling it backwards.
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Short stories and articles.
The River’s Secret: Chapter V
Chapter V: Gudge Riley the First
Gudge Riley was a simple man. All he wanted in life was to take care of his family. Provide a good home for his wife, three daughters, and 6-month-old son, Gudge Jr. He didn’t want any trouble. He certainly never wanted to cause trouble. He preferred to live a quiet life on his farm. The land his grandfather had bought after arriving from Ireland and passed down to Gudge’s father who passed it down to him. He hoped to pass it down to Gudge Jr someday. Someday far down the road. So far down the road that he never articulated that hope, it was just in his heart. The last thing he wanted was to be part of the war that was tearing the country apart.
He didn’t want to be a part of it but he couldn’t help seeing what was going on. His state was a Union state but it was also a border state. As such there was a little southward jog in the state boundary right where his homestead was that dipped just to the south of confederate towns on the east and west in the neighboring state. It was a tiny little salient and his farm was the only one in the predicament. Mind you, it only became a predicament when the war started. Up until then, Gudge and his family didn’t really pay that much attention to the border. The nearest town to his farm for much needed supplies was just across the border into the neighboring Confederate state. So, while his state with the bigger towns and Union influence were miles and miles away fighting for the north, his nearest neighbors were loyal to the south.
Continue readingThe River’s Secret: Chapter IV
Chapter IV: Gudge’s Mission
How many times had Gudge placed his right hand over his chest in the last few minutes? Too many times, he was sure. Martin had coached him and told him over and over again how important it was to act natural. Trouble was, Gudge always looked nervous in public. He rarely made the trip to the big city. He preferred the simple life on his farm where it was just him and his family. Even going to the neighboring small town to get supplies was out of his comfort level. Thinking on Martin’s brief lessons, he had no idea how to act natural on a crowded ferry which is where he was at the moment.
The letter he was tasked to deliver to the capital was tucked away in his inside jacket pocket and he realized he kept patting his chest so that he could hear the paper and be reassured it was still there. That is something Martin would have absolutely forbidden him to do so he made a conscious effort to stop touching his chest. But then what should he do instead?
Continue readingThe River’s Secret: Chapter III
Chapter III: Gudge’s Predicament
Gudge the First knew precisely two things when he woke up. One, he was not a smart man and that meant there was a good chance he may not get out of his current predicament. And the second thing he knew without a doubt was that he absolutely hated Martin Gregory. But all the hate he felt for the man was not going to change his current situation so he went back to the first thing he knew. How was he of all people going to get out of this predicament? He didn’t even know where he was or where he was going because there was a burlap sack over his head. He could hear horses and felt the familiar rocking motion of a wagon so he knew he was being taken somewhere.
Two men apparently were riding in the wagon also because he could hear them discussing his fate. So, he pretended to still be unconscious to decide his course of action. He had been prepared for this kind of outcome, he told himself. Though he had been assured multiple times it was “unlikely.” Think of the script, think of the script… he thought to himself.
Continue readingThe River’s Secret: Chapter II
Chapter II: Gudge the First’s Final Moments
Gudge, Sr, or as his posterity came to call him, Gudge the First, opened his and then narrowed them when he saw his captor and watched the man. He couldn’t tell where they were but noticed the ceiling was so low his captor could not stand straight up but kept his head down. And he noticed his captor’s uniform was faded and rather tight around his middle with his undershirt poking out between the lower buttons. His midsection hung over his trousers and Gudge assumed it had been some years since the man had seen his own feet while standing. One thing was certain, Gudge recognized it was not a friendly uniform whose wearer would be sympathetic to him or his cause. That told him everything he needed in order to proceed cautiously. The affable and guileless Gudge was going to have to be a very good actor if he wanted to get out of wherever he was at the moment. His mind raced as he tried to recall the exact words of the script he had been forced to memorize. “You won’t get caught,” he had been promised, “but just in case you do commit this to memory.” He desperately tried to calm himself enough to remember. He was a fine tapestry merchant, traveling to see his brother…no sister. Sister, he was on his way to see his sister who had raised him after their parents died. It was a rather tragic tale intended to invoke sympathy if needed.
But first things first, where exactly was he? His mouth was gagged with a dirty handkerchief that tasted horrible on his tongue, and he was lying prone on a cot with his hands tied above his head and his feet tied at the other end of the cot. He couldn’t turn his body but he could move his head and look around.
His captor wiped the back of his neck. “Sure is hot down here.” He looked at Gudge. “Look who woke up!”
Gudge nodded but never took his eyes of the captor.
Continue readingThe River’s Secret: Chapter I
Chapter I: The River’s Secret
The area had been in a drought for years. Everyone knew it and knew the river was getting lower and lower. “Wonder what secrets we’ll find when it dries up?” the younger generation would tease. “Probably nothing that any of us want to see,” the old timers responded.
The little rainfall the area did receive was never enough to raise the level up. It couldn’t even maintain the level. Instead, year after year, the water level dropped. First the difference was noted in inches and then in feet.
Continue readingStory Behind the Post: The Feud
This is the time when I explain my short story I wrote last month. It is reserved for what inspired my writing. Share my thoughts process. Give a little behind the scene peek, so to speak. Normally, I can share all that with no problem. As I’m writing this today though, I need to be honest. I really can’t remember the origin story.
Continue readingThe Feud: Chapter V
The Fishing Hole
Calvin did not, in fact, witness his first nursing home fisticuffs and to tell the truth, he couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed. It should be quickly added that he was mostly relieved at not having to stop a physical altercation between two brittle participants and very relieved Nurse Clementine’s attention would not be drawn to his antics. But still a tinge of disappointment that nothing physical materialized. The confrontation played out exactly how one would think it would play out in a nursing home. By the time Marty made his way to Gus and Calvin he had expended his energy and the only thing he could do was sit down on a chair next to the couch they sat on to catch his breath.
Gus stood up when he saw Marty making his way to them but by the time Marty had reached the couch, Gus was already sitting down again apparently tired of standing.
“So,” Calvin said after letting them both catch their breaths, “you two have been going at this since high school?” He asked then realizing how long ago that was he repeated and emphasized, “high school?”
“Ha!” Marty said. “He wishes we had been friends in high school.”
“I don’t wish,” Gus mumbled. “You wish.”
Continue readingThe Feud: Chapter IV
The Graduates
Gus cleared his throat a couple of times and then started telling his story. “My parents were rather intelligent but not highly educated people. They both came from families that worked and toiled their whole lives just to barely make ends meet. My parents never had the opportunity to rise above their families’ meager social class and when the Great Depression hit, our family was hit hard. So, education was a luxury neither family could invest in. It was a proud moment for both of my parents when I was able to stay in school and graduate.” He paused a moment, seemingly lost in reflection. “To celebrate, my parents threw a party in our small coal camp town. The likes of which had not been seen in that area. Everyone was invited. Even him,” he narrowed his eyes down the hall in the direction of Marty’s room. “And his family. It was the polite thing to do, my mom said.”
Calvin nodded. Graduation day? This had to be the cause of the great Marty and Gus rift. Then he tried to picture the two 90-year-olds as teenagers and failed. His mind kept reverting their faces to the worn and wrinkled faces he knew. Later on, he would let himself giggle about the images his mind kept conjuring up.
“I tried to talk my dad out of throwing the party but, what can I say? He was a proud papa.” Gus’s face relaxed to a near smile. “My parents were well liked and everyone showed up. Of course, he came with his girlfriend’s family. Oh boy, that girlfriend of his.” He drifted off in thought for a moment. “Her dad was a mining official so a bit higher paygrade than the rest of the miners in town. He never acted like it though. His wife, however, never fit in with the other miners’ wives. A bit uppity. Which meant their daughter, Marty’s girlfriend, was a real piece of work.”
Continue readingThe Feud: Chapter III
The Avon Incident
Marty smiled from his bed as Calvin tested the cushion on the chair to make sure it was firm before sitting down. “I’ve fallen for that trick before,” he said sitting down when he was satisfied he would not sink to the floor.
Marty chuckled, “That was a good one.”
Calvin nodded his head. If he hadn’t been the one to sink to the floor after sitting on Marty’s chair on more than one occasion, he probably would have agreed more heartily.
“Well,” Marty said. “As usual, the Doofus next door left out a few key details in his story.”
“How did you even hear him talking?” Calvin asked. He strained to hear any other sound besides Marty’s television set at a rather loud volume and the noise from out in the hall. There was no possible way Marty could have heard the conversation that had taken place next door. At least, no natural possible way.
“Eh?” Marty asked.
“Oh, that you can’t hear but you could hear your neighbor next door telling a story?” Calvin asked. Maybe the two men weren’t as paranoid as everyone believed. Maybe they had been busy spying on each other. He shook his head not wanting to spend time drifting on any tangents. “Are you going to tell me your side of the story? Because it doesn’t really need explaining. I get it. You were a teacher trying to teach. Seems simple enough.”
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