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 reading5 part short story
The 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.”
Continue readingThe Feud: Chapter II
The Student
“You were best friends?” Calvin asked unsure if Gus was setting up a punchline for a joke.
Gus merely nodded and squinted his eyes. “Can you believe it?”
Judging from the way the two had acted since their arrivals, Calvin could honestly say he did not.
“Let’s just say,” Gus smiled, “there isn’t as much criteria for a ten-year old.” He folded his arms, “that comes later,” he thought about it, “with experience.” He folded his arms and leaned back in the chair clearly proud at his wisdom.
Calvin shrugged. That sounded fairly logical. He could hear Nurse Clementine’s voice from her post at the desk down the hall and leaned forward. “So, what happened?” he asked wanting to get to the bottom of this feud before she discovered him doing what she referred to as “unnecessary hovering”.
Continue readingThe Feud: Chapter I
The Nursing Home
“Have you checked on room 1211?” Nurse Clementine asked without looking up from the clipboard she was studying. As always, her readers rested on the bottom of her nose but never slipped off the tip. A feat that always impressed Calvin just a little bit. He rolled his eyes at her request but tried to cover his initial reaction by answering quickly, “No ma’am.” Even though the older nurse wasn’t looking he knew she still could sense his attitude by the way she her lips pushed together. When he still didn’t move, she looked up and cocked an eyebrow at him. That was worse than a lecture or a verbal lesson any day. That was her way of saying, ‘best get on it’ combined with ‘don’t make me tell you again.’
He suppressed the urge to sigh and stood up. “Right on it,” he said forcing any bitterness from his voice. Nurse Clementine ran a tight shift and the last thing he wanted was to get on her bad side which was so easy for him to do. She had been a night nurse supervisor at the nursing home longer than the current manager had been alive and was granted some allowances managing the staff other supervisors didn’t get. She was the default superior that everyone looked to including the manager although that was done discretely. If her word got back to management about any unruly staff that staff usually was gone by the next shift. “There is no room here for bad nurses,” Nurse Clementine often said.
Continue readingStory Behind the Post: The New Seasons
When I decided to simplify my life and only do weekly posts, I had to decide if I wanted to keep doing 5-part short stories during the months with 5 Wednesdays (switched from Saturdays). I decided, yes, I will keep at it for a while anyway. The first 5-Wednesday month was in April which seemed like plenty of time for me to prepare a story. If you know me, you know that isn’t my style. I was plagued with my usual writer’s block until the 11th-hour. But inspiration came from real events. I should say, real events mostly. Real events with a little modification and a whole lot of what-if.
Continue readingThe New Seasons: Chapter IV
Winter
The first thing I did after I left Stuart’s was to find all that literature he had given me. Thankfully I didn’t throw any of it away. Some of it was lost but I found most of it in a pile. The pages with the diagrams were pretty tattered and on top of the pile but I didn’t need those pages any longer. I spent the rest of that day scanning through it all and any time I saw the word shift I read the paragraphs around it for context. No matter how many paragraphs I read, I still didn’t understand. I needed someone to translate it to my level of understanding. There was no way I would go back to Stuart though. It just didn’t feel safe. That left me with one choice: Carpenter.
I used my phone and took some photos of the paragraphs that I thought might be most helpful. Was I taking pictures of too much? Too little? The wrong thing? I had no idea but this was my best plan.
The next day I stayed after work for an hour waiting for a chance to nonchalantly catch her in the break room. When she finally came in and sat on the couch another coworker was in the room. I nervously waited for 10 minutes and it was getting close to Carpenter to return to work. Just in time, the other coworker stood up and left which means now was my chance.
Continue readingStory Behind the Post: A New Chance
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I was excited for another opportunity to write a Thanksgiving story. However, this fall I worked on two fairly big projects that both culminated the same weekend in November. The second. One finished with a big event on Friday and the other on Monday. Sharing all that to explain I was pretty busy all of October and into the first part of November and did not spend as much time on my 5-part short story yet again. But I always say that, don’t I? So, let me just jump in and share the inspiration for this story.
Continue readingThe Drifting Tumbleweed
Chapter V: Tyee and Lawrence and Eddy and Gil
In all of his 61-years on the Earth, Tony Twomoons could probably count on one hand all the times he felt truly surprised by events. This was about to be one of those times.
He just witnessed that both Larry and Eddy were still alive and received what he felt as personal confirmation about both of their innocence. Not only that, he had just shifted his focus to his boss as a leading suspect. His mind couldn’t settle on which to think about first. But then the front door to the bar flew open and several law enforcement came forcefully into the bar. About a half-second latter, another intimidating group came in from the kitchen where they had made their entrance through the back door.
A tall man with slicked black hair and wore a jacket that said FBI flashed a badge quickly. “This place is now considered a crime scene,” his voice boomed even though the bar had grown quiet quickly at their presence. “Please vacate the premises immediately.”
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