Installment #43 Marshall

Installment #43

Marshall

Marshall realized when he pulled into his yard that he did not have a key to his house on his key ring since his keys were God only knew where and would need to enter through the tunnel entrance. Parking near the front door he left the door of the Jeep open. He was not going to be here very long. He was just going to grab Meg and slip back down the mountain before the Johnny laws decided to spread out; start searching the area. And he sure did not want to be standing there with his arms full of Meg Parker when they popped into the yard.

“Oh, gee, look what I found sleeping in my bed!” He quickly reached the edge of the clearing and without a look around, he slid the door over, stepped inside and slid it back into place. No sense tempting fate. He flipped the switch that illuminated the tunnel and was amazed to see Meg standing in the middle of the tunnel being held erect by Fred, the idiot handyman.
“What in the hell are you doing in my tunnel This is my property! Where are you taking that woman?”

Fred stared at the livid man.
“What are you doing with this woman? You are holding her against her will! I ain’t stupid. I dug her out of your root cellar. I am taking her to her home. You have no right doing this. This is just wrong.” A tear slid down Fred’s face and Marshall laughed.

“You damn simpleton! You have meddled where you have no business. How do you think you are going to stop me from what I want? Look at her! She is sound asleep. Are you going to drop her and then what? You under fed little faggot, you are not going to get out of this tunnel. At least not alive. Now I will wait while you put her down very gently over there against the wall and then I am going to very quietly break your f-ing neck. Or I will just break your neck and catch her when she falls. Your choice, simple simon.”

Fred knew there was no way out of this one. He knew that he did not stand a chance in hell against this giant before him. He would do what he could to protect Meg with his last breathe, but he had to put her out of harms way.
“Let me put her down.  I don’t want her to get hurt. I will put her right over there and then we will settle this man to man. At least I will try.  Momma always said I should do my very best.”
Marshall flushed beet red.  “Your momma? What in the hell is wrong with you? Your momma should have told you about the big bad boogie man that lives in the tunnel, you little wooze. Now put her down!”

Fred eased Meg against the wall and let her slide gently to the ground.  He bent and kissed her on top of the head and straigtened just in time to see a look of horror on Marshall Purcell’s face. He saw his glass eye pop out and fall to the floor. He saw Marshall turn and move toward the open door. What Marshall had seen was Kevin who had just thrown a huge rock and hit him in the back of the head. What Marshall did not see was the razor sharp Machete raised in the air and propelled though the air with a force that even Freddie Himes, Jr did not know he had in his body. When the downward thrust was finished the jugular vein that had fed the evil mind of Marshall Purcell was completely severed.

Kevin and Fred locked eyes above the now inert body that lay on the floor of the tunnel. Kevin rushed to Meg. He gathered her in his arms and together the three of them skirted past the dead man and hurried to the door.  When they were outside Fred closed the door and twisted the lock. He was shaking and sweating. He looked at Kevin and began to cry.

 “Oh, man I was so scared! I knew I had to get her out of there when I found her. I knew he was a bad man and then when he caught me, I figured we were both goners. Where did you come from? You are her kid, right? How did you know she was in there? Oh, we got to tell somebody!”

Kevin looked at the sad little man and knew he had to do something with Meg so he could do something with Fred.  He located a big boulder nearby and nodded toward it with his head.

“Set down over there, Fred and I will put mom beside you and you hold her while I make a call.”

 And Fred, the innocent little child he was, did as he was told. Fred sat and Kevin gently placed Meg beside him.
“Hold her so she doesn’t fall while I call the guys down at the farm.”

Meg was just beginning to stir when the sheriff cars rolled up Storm Lake road and onto the Purcell property. When Jack came out of the tunnel he looked at Kevin and Fred.
“Who swung that machete? It is stuck in his bone and probably not ever gonna come out. Now who goes first? Not Meg. She looks like she is still pretty out of it. That Adavan is some potent shit. Fred, is it? You start. Try to remember everything that happened. How did you find Mrs. Parker? Do you know this guy? Oh, go ahead, just tell it like it happened.”

 “Well, I shot me a little deer. Oh, God, now I am going to jail for sure. Damn! Damn!”

Jack laughed. “We will let this one slide, just tell us what happened here.”
“Well, I shot me a little deer and the shot was off a bit so I tracked it over here. Found it right by that tree over there.  I looked through the trees and saw this big guy carry a woman into the house and then leave. I kind of thought it looked like the Parker woman but I wasn’t real sure. Well, I trussed up the deer and hung it and slit it’s throat and then field dressed it so it would be good to eat. When I wrapped the sheet around it to keep the flies off  I got to thinking that if it was her she might be in trouble. Well, I knew this tunnel was here cause I dug it. I knew that would be the only way I could get in the house, so I went there.  The tunnel is different now than it used to be so it took me a while to figure out that he had changed it. I knew she was somewhere in there so I figured it had to be in the root cellar. I found the soft dirt and dug it out and went in and there she was! And it was her! And I knew I had to get her out of there and quick cause he would be back. And he was. Caught us right out there where you found him. Would have been me if this guy had not come along.”

He indicated Kevin.   Jack looked at Kevin expectantly.

 “Well, I just happened to walk up here and I saw that deer hanging in the tree and it scared hell out of me. Then I climbed a tree and saw that I could see the farm from the top of it. While I was up there I saw the guy get out of the black Jeep and walk around in the yard and then head towards the tree. I figured I was a goner, but he opened a door or something and disappeared inside. I thought that was weirder than weird so I crept a little closer and I picked up a rock just in case. The door did not make a sound and I was damn glad of that! When I peered in there I seen him and Fred and mom. Did not take much to figure out who the bad guy was. When Fred was putting mom down the guy was intent on that and when Fred kissed the top of her head I threw that rock with everything I had and prayed like a demon. But Fred is the real hero here.” He beamed at Fred.

 Meg stirred and looked at Fred in bewilderment. A gurney appeared and it was clear Meg was going to be checked out in the back of the ambulance. She was like a little girl as they placed her on the cot and put the oxygen over her nose. The last thing she could remember was reaching to lift up the doggie door.

“Well you two are going to need to undergo a complete debriefing at the house so Leroy will give you a ride down.”
Fred suddenly looked very agitated.  “Look, I ain’t done nothing wrong, except that deer. I got that deer and I can’t let that meat go to waste.  That would be just wrong!  Can I just take it home and cut it up some and stick it in the cooler? Then I could come down there.”

Jack smiled at the rough country man. “Yeah, go ahead. If you leave it hanging there you are going to get in trouble for sure. But come down as quick as you can.” And Fred hurried away into the forest, intent on his job. Meg and Kevin walked down the mountain instead of riding. Meg thought the exercise would do her good.  Clear her head. As they neared the farm the dogs caught sight of her and ran to meet them.  She laughed as she held the two squirming bodies and caught sight of the calico cat watching them with a haughty air. This was home.

Instalmment # 41 Marshall

Installment #41
Marshall

Marshall bounced out of the dirt road and almost broadsided the sheriff car. He immediately applied brakes and then relaxed as he noticed it was not this county sheriff. Might have been a stroke of luck there. But he had immediately seen that he was going to follow this guy for a while and as much as every fiber of his being longed to hold his darling Meg, he was not going to wind up with the sheriff going through his vehicle and delaying his return.
Ah, she was sleeping so peacefully when he left her. And he knew she would wait for him. All of his life he had yearned for a woman just like her. One who would understand him. One who would listen when he told her what his mother made him do. The secrets he had kept for all these years. The evil that lived in the home where he grew up. The father and brother that never knew that while they were at work or school or at the basketball game that he was home sucking on Mother’s tits and screwing her brains out.
She knew it was wrong and she did not care. “Marshall, come here. Dad and Jeffery went to  the movies and will not be home for hours.  Come in here and talk to me. Feel my skin! Feel how soft it is. Do you know what keeps a woman’s skin soft? This.” She reached down and laid her hand inside his crotch. “ This keeps me alive and vibrant. Your father does not understand. Slam, bam, thank you, ma’am.”
 As she spoke her hands worked his zipper and soon his jeans were around his knees. Her open mouth encircled him and her black eyes watched his face. Marshall jerked the wheel just in time to avoid a very bumpy ride down the side of a very steep cliff.
 Damn! Hope those guys up ahead were not watching the rear view mirror. “Ah, gee officer, I was just remembering a blow job from my mother and got a little inattentive there.” That ought to hold them. Marshall always tried to not let the hard on happen, but it did.  It always did. After she was satisfied he would take a long hot bath and then a hot shower, but still, the image of Mother with her lips slightly parted and her eyes watching his face as he mounted her and found the shooting stars that only she could bring was before him.
He liked it when she wanted “doggie style” because then he did not have to look at her. But still when he bucked and drove into her it was her face that was before him. It was mother he had seen with all the whores in Denver and Viet Nam and all points between and beyond. But he had found peace in the eyes of Meg Parker. At least he thought he had. Would. Could. Meg would be his salvation. Their union would be pure. Meg had a good heart. He had watched her with the dogs.  He had watched her with a wounded bird. With her son. Alone in her bedroom when nobody was around. She read her Bible.
She listened to Classic Country. He had always preferred Heavy Metal and stuff like that, but he found himself turning to Garth Brooks more often. Willie Nelson.  Kenny Rogers. Country guys knew how to rip your heart out. Not the women though. Dolly was a perfect example of what he did not want in a woman. Red lips and bleached hair. Meg did not dye her hair. She only wore a little lipstick and that only some of the time. As Marshall drove he pictured her lying on her cot waiting for him.

When he unlocked the door she would rush to him. Well if the Adavan had worn off, she would.
Maybe she would fall at his feet and cling to his knees. That would be a nice touch. Subservient. He would slowly take her hands and raise her to her feet.
“Oh, darling! Do not worship me so. We are equal, you and I.  I need you as much as you need me. Together! Together! Here, lie on the bed. Let me run you a nice bath. I am so sorry I had to leave you here all alone. Let me make it up to you.  Oh, I have been bad. Very bad. Do you want to spank me? You can. Oh, yes you can. Here. Let me lower my slacks and you can spank me. Oh, let me bend over. Spank me! Spank your baby boy!…..What the hell!”

 Marshall applied the brakes just in time to avoid a dung green helicopter landing on the road in front of him. The was no missing the big Colorado Law Enforcement stenciled across the side. He noted that he was right in front of Meg’s farm. Damn! Seven minutes and he would have been home. But here he sat. He watched as the door opened and a big burly guy that smelled of cop all over the place stepped down to the ground and then turned and held up his hand for Kevin Jackson, Meg’s son. The little queer guy from California. They both ducked and ran across the drive way to the yard. As they cleared the yard, the pilot gunned the rotor, dipped slightly and then the runners began to raise.

Marshall waited a bit as he surveyed the gathering in the yard. Oh, they had made the connection between Meg and Jeffery and the hunt was on. Well, let them look. He was very good at hide and seek. Jeffery was very well hidden as was the cop. Meg was a different story, but soon they would be in the Jeep headed south. A stop in Colorado Springs at the First National Bank to empty his safe deposit box and then Mexico. He had already bought property in Julisco, Mexico, an American retirement community on a lake that was straight out of a picture book. Living was easy down there. Cheap. Meg might resist at first, but when she accepted how much he loved her and how much she needed him, she would come around. As the dust settled he dropped the lever to Drive, released the brake and moved slowly forward. He briefly made eye contact with the guy who seemed to be in charge, so he lifted his hand in a neighborly wave and headed up the hill and home.

Installment #40 Jack

Installment #40

Jack

Jack hurried to the first sheriff car that pulled on the scene. Leroy! Computer expert and hopefully the man with the answer. Formalities.  “Jack, I want you to meet Ferrel Buford. Ferrel has been a very big help. Has all this fancy equipment and lots of info coming over the wire on the way up here.”

Jack shook the proffered hand as he turned toward the house.
“Pleased to meet you, Jack. I think I have what you need.” He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. “Well, at least it is sure going to help. But first, I got to pee. Some jerk driving like a maniac about ran us off the road. Damn hairpin curves scare the shit out of me anyway.”
Jack indicated the door Ferrel needed and poured coffee in a cup and offered it to Leroy. Ferrel returned very quickly and took the coffee Jack offered him.
“Now. The hacker is in Denver, but he is also around here close. Unless there are two of them, which I can not see, but there are two computers. The first one is in an office complex in downtown Denver. I have my company working on narrowing that one down.  Should have an answer on that in about an hour.  So the other one is up here on this mountain, but it is wireless and operates on a “hot wire” off of a satellite. Those are really hard to pinpoint.”
Leroy chimed in, “Is there any way we can get information on the people that live up here on this mountain? You know, where and if they work.  If they go into Denver regular. Things like that?”
But Leroy and Jack both knew the mountain backwoods code. Live here, do what you want, bother nobody and you become invisible.
“Oh, I got hold of the kid, Kevin. He is flying into Stapleton about right now.  George will pick him up and the helicopter will shuttle him down here. Don’t know what good he will be since he lives clear out in California, but he might know something, and it is his mother. Maybe she confided something to him that will give us a clue.”

Jack turned back to Ferrel. “Show me what you have. I sure hope we can get something out of it.” Ferrel opened the note book.
 “Red stars are on the Denver computer. Black are on the mountain computer. He started pinging in on her about 5 months ago. Not often. Just occasionally. Goes in, checks her emails, reads them, marks them new, and leaves. Cannot see where he does anything else at all, but he sure is keeping tabs on the redranger.” Jack stared at the dates.

“Do you by any chance have copies of the emails that were sent on these days? Especially….” He stopped as Ferrel stood and went to the car, returning with a folder which he handed to Jack. Quickly he found the one he wanted.

They were to meet at the Sheraton. That was the last communication between the redranger and Meg Parker. Redranger, aka Jeffery Eldon Purcell had arrived in Denver. They knew that much. They knew he had not kept his rendevous with Meg at the Sheraton. He looked back at the dates on the sheet.

There had been no action since the plans were made. Was it possible that the hacker did not need to check on Meg because he knew exactly where both she and Jeffery were now?

“This guy has Meg and Jeffery Purcell!” It was a wild guess and it was also a statement of fact. Jack Farley felt a cold hard knot forming in the pit of his stomach. He hated it when he was right and he knew he was right. And he knew the son was on his way. And he knew he needed answers. No, he needed Meg Parker to be standing in the yard waving when the helicopter landed. That was what he needed, but more than that, he needed to know how to make that happen. He needed computer locations and names on leases and, oh God, this was not looking good at all.

He turned to Ferrel Buford with a pleading look in his eyes. “We need a miracle. We are trying to chase waves in the air that we cannot see. I am afraid if we are not quick enough this woman and the man she was meeting will both die. You are the man that can make it happen.”

As he turned away, he knew that miracles do not always happen just because you want them to. And in the far distance he heard the beating rotor of a helicopter headed towards the little farm on the side of the mountain.

Installment #38 Marshall

Installment #38

Marshall

Marshall opened the back of the Jeep and began throwing wood off to the side. When Ambrose lay before him he took a deep breathe and  hoisted the big man unceremoniously to the ground. Well this was going to be a dragging act because he sure could not lift him. Oh, yeah, there was the snow shovel!  Glad he had bought that. It would come in handy for this task. He wedged the handle under a nearby boulder and pulled Ambrose into position. There we go!  Brains over brawn any day of the week. He grasped the handle, maneuvered into position and was amazed at how easily the load went up the hill, through the opening and as he neared the hole ahead he turned the handle and pushed the body near the hole. Now, how to unload it without getting too close. Marshall studied the site for a moment and then laughed. All he had to do was get the body a little further and then raise the handle and off into the eternal never land of sleep the cop would go!

Very carefully he moved the body forward until he felt it start to pull the shovel down.  He slowly raised the handle just an inch or two and Holy Shit! In the hole it all went, shovel, body and damn near Marshall. In just the briefest moment of clarity, he released the shovel handle right before it jerked him over the side. There was the first thud as the body hit the wall. He waited. He waited. The second thud never came. He crept closer to the edge and shined his light over the side. Holy Mother! The man was straddling the shovel which was wedged into a crevice. He stared closer. That rat bastard was laughing at him!  He played his light around the walls. There was no way down and no way up.  He was just going to have to stay there and laugh, because there was nothing Marshall could do at this point. The corpse had stolen his shovel and was now hanging above the abyss laughing at him. This was not good. This was not good at all. Marshall contemplated his options. Let’s see, he could climb to the bottom and what? Stay there the rest of his life? Or he could take the high road and do nothing. That seemed the way to go. If some idiot happened to stumble on his little cavern here, the bodies on the bottom might go unnoticed, but Brome Hilda there on the shovel handle was practically begging to be seen. Oh, well, that was a problem he could do nothing about.

Oh, and that shovel handle. He had not left a fingerprint on anyone in the bottom there, but that shovel handle would be a treasure trove of DNA and the little dealy with the ISBN number on it could be traced to the hardware store and right to Mr. Marshall Purcell. A trickle of sweat began to run down his neck and on down his back. Felt like a damn Centipede! He stood erect and hurried from the cavern into the bright Colorado sunlight.

As he hurried down the hill and the Jeep came in sight he reached in his pocket for the keys. Other pocket. He stopped and patted himself from top to bottom. Every pocket he had. Crap! Not again! He had just had this talk with himself about not locking his keys in the car and now, when he was in a hurry, he had done the very thing he had warned himself about. He stopped and went through the pockets again. They had to be in the Jeep. He had to have them to get here so they were not on him, they had to be in there. Just in case he got lucky he walked to the back of the Jeep and stared at the empty lock. Not there. Nope, definitely not there. He walked to the passenger door.  Locked. He looked in the ignition. Not there. Oh, no!  Had that cop somehow managed to pick his pocket? Dead people did very strange things. He knew that for a fact.

There was that whore he had picked up on Larimer Street that one afternoon. He had checked them all out and she appeared to be the cleanest one of the bunch. She was wearing a skirt so short he thought he could see her panties. Or not panties. She had huge breasts. They were so big he thought they must be false.  He pulled the Jeep to the curb and looked directly at her. She came and leaned in the window and he reached over and touched her cleavage.
“How much?”
 “For what, sweetie? An hour? A blow job? All day? You got to tell Flo what you want.”
“All afternoon. A walk in the forest. I want to screw on the forest floor on a pile of pine needles."
 “You ain’t kinky are you? You won’t hurt me will you? Johnny doesn’t like me to leave this area, so it gonna cost you extra. Johnny gets mean sometimes.”
“Get in Flo. I will make it worth your time. “

He opened the door and settled back behind the wheel. Flo climbed in and nestled back into the leather seat. “Nice,” she said and smiled showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. Marshall slipped the Jeep into drive and pulled out into the traffic headed west toward the mountains. It did not take long to reach the area he sought. Flo was enjoying the act of being a lady and waited for him to open her door.  He took her hand and led her to a nearby blanket of pine needles. She giggled as he spread a sheet over the top of the aromatic bed provided by Mother Nature. He removed her sunglasses and stared into her eyes. Yes, he had chosen well. He settled himself on the newly made bed.  He removed his slacks and indicated what he wanted.
“And look at me while you are doing it. Look me right in the eyes.”
She began her work and she was very good at it. Her eyes never left his.
“Oh, Mother!” he murmured as she worked on him and as he felt his release he screamed the words, “MOTHER, MOTHER, MOTHER!” And then it was over and he was spent.
He felt the tears spilling down his cheeks. And then she laughed. Damned whore! Who was she to laugh at him? He grabbed her tit and bit down with all the force he had as she screamed and tried to pull away. He spit the nipple across the forest floor and grabbed her head and snapped her neck. Bitch! She had made something so beautiful, dirty. Marshall wrenched his mind away from that afternoon and focused, slowly on the problem at hand.

He was locked out of his jeep in a very bad place. His keys were probably down at the bottom of the cavern along with lots of bones, the whore included. Well, he sure as hell could not call Triple AAA. Well, he could, but that move would not be wise at all. Then he smiled. Then he chuckled. He was not screwed yet. He had a key hidden in the Jeep under the seat. He had done that because this was not his first rodeo. He would simply pick up a rock and break the window, reach in and open the door and get the key and drive his little self home. Life was good. He quickly located a rock that was satisfactory for the purpose and slammed it into the window. Not quite as easy as he thought, but soon he was inside the Jeep and had the key in the ignition and disarmed the shrill alarm that was quickly destroying his ear drums.

He backed the Jeep around until he was positioned for the downhill descent, slowly released the clutch and moved forward, never once looking at the ring of keys laying in the dirt not 10 feet from the back of the Jeep. He was intent on getting home to the woman he loved.

Installment #12

Installment #12

Meg

Meg walked around the house. The workmen were gone.
She was alone. She had handed Fred the roll of bills and then
insisted he count it for herself as well as for him. She knew it
was there, but she wanted him to know as well. As she watched
him she was suddenly struck by how innocent and child like he
seemed. There was more to Fred Himes then anyone would ever
know. She had asked for a tour around the house so he could
show her what he had done. He explained about the double
welding and that it would take a cutting torch for anyone to get
inside. “So don’t lose your key or you will be sleeping in the
yard.” He had suddenly become agitated when he said that.
Strange. She turned back into the house then turned and watched
him climb into his Toyota pick up. Man that big had no business
in a little truck like that.

She checked her eBay sales and then frowned because
there were none. Business was sure down for some reason. She
clicked through to her store and then to the mark down manager.
Of course she had to sign in again. Ebay was very careful about
that. She selected several vinyls and then changed her mind and
selected them all. She marked them 50% off, selected the start
and end date and then clicked to save. That done she checked
her emails. Nothing very interesting there. She wandered to the
kitchen and stood at the sink. She really should fix some lunch,
but suddenly the idea of eating alone brought tears to her eyes.
Was this how the rest of her life would be? Eating alone,
sleeping alone, walking alone? What was the point? She
opened the refrigerator and picked out an apple. Then she
grabbed a handful of Cheddar Cheese squares. She took her
keys off the hook behind the door. At the clink of the keys,
Daisy and Elvira appeared, fresh from a nap!

“Come on girls! Let’s go for a little walk up the
mountain.” She picked her knap sack off the hook, put two
bottles of water and an empty plastic sour cream tub inside. “
Got everything you ladies need, so let’s hit it!” She put the
keys in her pocket, the knap sack over her shoulder, got a bottle
of water for herself, and lastly took her walking stick down
from over the door. It was a gift from Tom many years ago. It
was very sturdy and had a hummingbird etched on the side with
flowers. Very good for stabilizing herself as she walked and
sturdy enough that she could defend herself if need be.
The dogs ran ahead and sniffed everything in sight. Of
course they also had to mark their territory, because that is what
dogs do. It was a beautiful day and while warm it had a cool
breeze blowing down from the mountain. She picked a trail that
looked sort of worn and the dogs immediately joined her. Birds
flitted in the canopy overhead as they walked. Meg was always
alert to the possibility of a timber rattler so she kept the dogs
close.

Almost imperceptibly a change came over Meg. Her
footsteps slowed and the dogs came closer. What was it? She
could feel eyes on her. She turned around. Nothing. Daisy
stopped and her hackles rose. She stared ahead into the
underbrush. Meg stopped and strained her eyes. Nothing. No,
wait, there was something. Something about that big Pine tree.
The growth at the bottom of it was mashed down. Had a bear
been here? Could very well have been. It was wilderness and
there were bears. But the limbs had been removed. No, not
removed. Only some of them. It looked like a ladder the way
they were staggered. She stepped on the first one. Then up
another one. One more. She could set up here and be quite
alone. This branch made a nice broad setting place. She sat and
turned. Her eyes fell on her farm. A cold feeling of dread settled
over her. Was she the only one that knew about this place? She
quickly scampered down the limbs again and when she reached
the ground the dogs were staring at her quizzically.
She turned quickly and started back down the path. The
dogs fell in step behind her and did not run and sniff. They
could barely keep up with her. When she reached the edge of
the clearing she stopped. She opened the knapsack and got the
bowl and water. The dogs lapped greedily. Meg gave them each
a piece of cheese and then ate the rest of the cheese and the
apple. Her nerves began to relax and her mind began to clear.
Maybe it was just the spell of the forest. She looked down the
mountain. She could not see her farm from here. She looked up
to see if she could see the tree she had climbed. No. She was
going to need to delve into this a little further. Where did the
trail lead? Was there a house up there? If so, who lived there?
Who could she ask? Fred. Of course. He had been on this
mountain for years. He would know.

She knew she needed to proceed with caution when she
talked to Fred because he was one skittish little fellow. That was
all right. She was just curious. Now how to get Fred to the
house without alerting him. Of course! Now the only way
anyone could get into her house was if they used the doggie door.
It was in the wall going to the back yard. True her dogs were
small and so was the doggie door, but it could be possible. She
would have Fred build a metal cage that the dogs would exit into
for their “personal needs.” She would have plenty of time to
visit with him while that was being done. She glanced back over
her shoulder as she hurried down the mountain. She could not
shake the feeling that eyes were boring into her back.
When she reached the house she quickly entered and
slammed the door behind her. With shaking hands she found
Fred’s number, but before she dialed she took several deep
breathes and composed herself. The phone rang several times
before she finally gave up. She would try later. He did not seem
to have an answering machine. After several hours, he answered.
She explained her plan to him and he promised to come by the
next morning. She smiled as she hung up the phone. Fred was
so easy.

I am currently on vacation!

Having spent a full year writing Long Ago and Not Very Far Away and publishing it online weekly, I was disheartened when I offered the ending to the story for $5.00 and only had one taker.  That does not amount to a very big paycheck for what I thought was a very entertaining and heart breaking story.   My paypal button is still laughing at me!

I will be back on this site at some point in time, but I think it is going to be as some sort of product or restaurant review.  Maybe I will share a few recipes with you.  I am working on another book, but I shall keep it under wraps and I am not going to either do it for free or invest another $4,000 .00 and not get a return on my investment.

I see a few of you check in here occasionally, so I guess  somebody actually read me.  Until I come up with something, hang in there. 

Long Ago and Not Very Far Away is still available.

This button will only be available until October 1.  At that time you will not be able to buy this at any price.  When you pay I will send you the installments in 7 consecutive emails so as not to overload your computer.  If you prefer a pdf. of the entire script let me know and I will go that way.

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

You are paying securely through paypal, so not to worry.

Lou Mercer

Installment #50 Whoops! Where is it?

You could now be reading Installment #50    "And things fall into place"  like Alice, Debbie and Jeffery are.    All you need to do is click on the Buy Now button and donate $5.00 to the cause of Lou Mercer (although it probably goes through the "My Site" account).  This is my little way of validating my year of writing for your enjoyment.

This button will only be available until October 1.  At that time you will not be able to buy this at any price.  When you pay I will send you the installments in 7 consecutive emails so as not to overload your computer.  If you prefer a pdf. of the entire script let me know and I will go that way.
 

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

You are paying securely through paypal, so not to worry.

Lou Mercer

Installment #49 Surprise!

     When Cynthia brought Tucker home the next morning they were surprised to see the pickup and trailer in the driveway.  When they opened the door the aroma of fresh coffee greeted them.  Cynthia had made coffee at home, but this was different.  This was Tucker’s home and the coffee smelled really good.  Mark greeted them both with a smile.  Then he hugged Tucker and turned to Cynthia.  “You guys get a cup of coffee and set on the porch.  I have a surprise in the trailer.”  With that he opened the door and went outside.

     Cynthia fixed two cups of coffee and started to the porch.  Tucker followed.  They sat in the lawn chairs and listened to thumping inside the trailer.  What was going on?  The  loading door was out of sight on the other side of the trailer, so they could see nothing.  And then they heard the roar of an engine.  Tucker leaned forward.  The big green Norton motorcycle that was in the picture on the mantle emerged from the back of the trailer.  Mark gunned the motor, slipped the clutch and shot off down the street.  Tucker laughed out loud.  “Oh, my God!  He got it running!  Look at it!  It is beautiful! “  He stood up and walked to the side walk.  Mark drove up to him.  The two men looked at each other and Mark revved the engine.

     “Well, Tucker, what do you think?  Does this bring back memories?”

     “How did you manage this?  Last time I seen that it was in a basket up on the shelf.”

     “Yep.  I stole it and this is what I have been doing for the last month.  I could not get the Norton insignia, so I hired a guy to paint it.  Now we are going to take a picture of you with this just like the one you gave Cyndi.  This will be 30 years later.  See if you have changed.”

     Tucker reached down and ran his hand over the gas tank.  “I loved this bike.  This was always my favorite.  I am very glad you did this.  This bike should live forever.”

     “Well, Tucker, that is the best part.   We are working on  putting the motorcycle museum right next door to the  photography museum.  Going to take a few years, but I think we can swing it. This bike is going to be the first exhibit.”  With that bit of news, Tucker could no longer hold back the tears.  He grasped Mark by the shoulder and the two men shared a brief hug.  Mark smiled at Cynthia over Tucker’s shoulder.

     With that Cynthia took her leave of the two men.  She knew they had a lot to talk about and she had things to do at home.  She kissed Tucker lightly on top of the head and started for the door.  There she stopped and turned.

     “I almost forgot.  We have to do something about Cleo.  Hospice was supposed to find her a home, but it does not seem to be happening.  Got any idea’s Mark?”  Mark looked at her studiously.

     “I can’t take her.  I would if I could.  Liz would kill me if I brought home a dog.  Hey!  Have you talked to the bike club?  Those guys might come up with someone in the club.”  Mark smiled.

     “Great idea!”  Tucker chimed in.  “I will call Dana tonight.  I need to talk to him anyway.  I want him to see the Norton.”

     And Cynthia was a little more light hearted as she drove home.  Why had she not thought of the motorcycle club?  It made perfect sense.  The club was a band of brothers.  Brothers through thick and thin.  She said a silent prayer to her God as she pulled into the car port.

     And back on Howard Street Mark and Tucker were busy making plans.  First call Dana about Cleo.  “I dunno’, buddy.  Let me ask around.  Send out an email.  Get back to you as soon as I know something.  Cleo is a damn good dog and she needs a damn good home.  Chin up, Tucker, I am on it.”

     As Mark busied himself in the kitchen throwing together a barbeque that he was sure Tucker would not turn away from, Tucker called Marge.

     “Marge, it is time.  I fell at Cynthia’s the last time I spent the night and I just can not do that to her.  I have to go into the nursing home.  It is the only solution.”  Marge sighed.  She had known this day was coming, but she was not sure she was ready for it.  Oh, she had checked out the ones Tucker thought he might like.  They had agreed on a very cozy one that seemed to be staffed with caring people and was priced in Tucker’s range, but still, a nursing home was a nursing home and it was where he would go to die.  It was so final.  She thought quickly.

     “OK Tucker.  Let me make a few phone calls.  Did Mark get there?”

     “Yes, he came this morning and he has the Norton running, if you can believe.  Call me back when you are ready.”  With that they broke the connection.  Tucker turned toward the kitchen and Margie dropped her head in her hands and collapsed in a sobbing heap on the settee.  That is where David found her later when he came in from town.

     “Oh, Marge what is it!”  He was not used to seeing her out of control and it rather frightened him, so he just held her as she told him about the conversation with Tucker.

     “He is ready to die, David.  He has already quit eating for the most part.  He wants to go into the nursing home and then quit eating and drinking altogether.  He has studied this and this is his way of hurrying things along. He is committing suicide in a very calm and rational manner.  I can’t stop him.  Why should I stop him?  It is his life.  He has been very clear from the beginning.  I wonder how Cynthia is going to handle this?  I have to go to Florida and she is going to be alone until I get back.”  Her voice trailed off and she shrugged her shoulders. 

     David, ever the stalwart one,   stared into space as he held his wife.  He knew it would fall to him when she flew to Florida.  Tucker was his friend and while he hoped Cynthia would be up to the task, he knew he would be there.  He was going to miss Tucker, no doubt about that, but life would go on for all of them. 

     “You know, Marge, it amazes me how Tucker is making this easy for us.  I am not sure I could do what he is doing.  Course he has been alone most of his life.  Never relied on anyone for anything, so why should now be any different?”  As he let her go and headed for the door, he added an afterthought, “I am not hungry tonight.  Want to just have the wine and forget the supper?  And what kind of wine goes with no upper?”

     Marge dried her eyes and followed him into the kitchen to open the refrigerator and stare sadly at a salad.  “Better make it white.”

******************************************************************

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

This is the last installment I am publishing online free of charge.  If you want to finish the story you will need to click on the "Buy Now" button which will take you to paypal.  I have spent over a year on this book and this afternoon the last installment will be finished.  When you donate to me in the amount of $5.00 -15.00 you will receive a pdf. attachment of the complete book.
Bear in mind that this is not professionally edited and it is my first attempt at anything like this so I may need to work out some kinks.
Enjoy!    Lou Mercer

Installment #48 ....and time marches on

Installment #48

… and time marches on.

     Tucker watched the rental car as it backed out the drive and pulled on to Pearl.  Anton would be back.  He knew that.  He had tried to tell Anton goodbye and make it final, but his little brother was not making it easy.  And then there was Albert.  Tucker had not talked with him.  They were not estranged, just did not seem to have much in common.  Anton would no doubt fill Albert in on how bad Tucker was, but he would not call.  That was just how it was.  Tucker knew that.

     He smiled at Cynthia.  “Well, I guess I will be going home with you tonight.  My baby sitter just left.”

     “Looks like it.  What shall we have for supper?”  She asked the question, but she knew the answer.  The Cream of Wheat was the only thing he ate and he drank very little water.  He was so thin that it hurt her to look at him.  He was wasting away before her eyes and there was nothing she could do to stop it from happening.  So she filled Cleo’s bowl with food and gave her fresh water.  Soon they would need to find her a new home.  She could not take her to her house because she had geese that would suffer the fate of a big dog playing with them.  And the cat.  Cleo was part grey hound and did not like cats at all.  She sighed and decided to tackle the new home idea tomorrow for sure.

     Tucker snapped his fingers.  “I almost forgot!  Mark called today and he will be here this weekend.  He has a surprise for me.  Wonder what it is?”

     “Oh, I am so glad!  I know how much he means to you.  A surprise?  I have no clue what it could be.  Is he flying?”

     “No, he is bringing the pickup and a trailer.  I want to send some stuff back with him.  I am pretty sure I am not going to be staying here in the house much longer and I want to get everything of value into the right hands.”  He stopped and gazed out the window.  “Funny how I worked all my life for this and now it is just something to get rid of.  I did not think I would live long enough to get to this point.  I just don’t care about any of it anymore.  I did talk to Mark about taking me to the nursing home before he leaves.”  Cynthia caught her breathe.

     “What do you mean?  Nursing home?  I thought you would be here with me until, until, you know?”  She could not bring herself to use the word “died”.  That made it too real.  That was final.  She knew how Tucker did not like to be touched, but this time she put her arms around him and told him, “Tucker!  Just hold me because pretty soon you will not be here to do it.  I need you to hold me!”  And he did.  And he stroked her hair, and a plan began to form in his mind.  It was a plan that just might work!

     Little did she know how time was about to fast forward.

 

Buy final installments with the buy now button.

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

Installment #47 Anton Comes to Call

So began the daily routine of Tucker being at home in the day and sleeping at Cynthia’s every night.  Cleo was home alone, but that was how it had to be.  Tucker rather enjoyed being in Cynthia’s home.  He had always felt comfortable there.  He liked her dogs and he liked the cat.  Apparently the cat liked him too, since she always leapt on his lap as soon as he set down.  The recliner was hard for him to get out of, so he was dependent on Cyndi to push the foot rest down.  Tucker had always been independent and never needed anyone, but now he let Cyndi do things for him.  He even ate a little Cream of Wheat every night and every morning.  He had the upstairs bedroom and she slept downstairs.  Once he even thought about how nice it would have been to share the bed. 

     On the third night of the new routine, Anton called.  Tucker had finally admitted that he was not well and it would be alright if Anton wanted to come for a few days.  So this phone call was to work out the details concerning the visit.  He would be coming on Amtrac since he was afraid to fly and did not want to drive.  He would arrive at noon on Monday and Cyndi could take 3 days off since that is how long he would be there.  Tucker thought not.  He was used to her.  He needed her.  Anton was his brother, but she was his what ever she was. Fiancee, he wished.  He liked the sound of it. Maybe he would tell her some day, but for now, just get the brother visit over.

     So, on Monday, Tucker and Cyndi were on the porch when Anton drove up in the rental car.  It was awkward to say the least.  Anton was shocked at the big brother who was now a very thin, pale big brother and it showed.

     Cynthia watched the body language of the brothers as they greeted each other.  It seemed very strained, but then this had to be hard on Anton especially.  He was 15 years younger than Tucker, but he would be without a brother very soon.  Surely he could see that.  There were 3 brothers and Anton was the only one that had married.  He had two sons and those were Tucker’s only nephews.  If the family name was to be carried on, it was all on Anton’s shoulders.

     Cynthia smiled as she saw Tucker smile at Anton and grab him in a bear hug.  Anton was taken aback and this made Cynthia laugh.  She knew Tucker was not a touchy feely kind of guy and she assumed from the look on his face that Anton did not expect this at all.  A simple hand shake was all he was used to having from his brother, but here he stood wrapped in his arms.  Anton had a lot to learn and Cynthia could only hope he was a fast learner.

     When the brothers broke apart, Cynthia took her leave and headed home.  Tucker knew she was as close as the phone and she assured him that she would be there if he needed her, or if he just wanted her there.  She looked in the rear view mirror and said a silent prayer that the visit would go well and they could say their goodbyes.

***************************************************

 OK, kids, push has come to shove.  This installment and #48 and #49 will be published here for you, but after that, I am on strike.  You like to read and I like to write so in exchange for a paltry $5.00 donation you will receive Installment #50 and all other installments in your email box.  So cough up using the Buy Now button below and we will all be happy.  This is my position...I like to know that I have readers who actually like my work.  This is my way of validating.  So far I have collected $5.00.  I will keep a tally going so you know just how rich I am going to wind up.  So, lets get that button to popping and make me a happy woman!

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

Installment #46 And Time passed

     Cynthia spoke with Tucker every morning at 6:00.  He called her right on the dot.  She thought maybe he watched the time so he would not wake her before 6:00 and not a minute after so she would not worry.  Sleep seemed to elude him after he woke up sometime in the night to empty his bladder.  He used to turn on the television and watch the Fox channel, but he saw no reason to do that anymore.  He just waited for time to call Cynthia.

     His hospice volunteer had come at some point in time and seemed like a nice enough fellow.  Chas something or other.  Chas was short for Charles.  Usually Charles was shortened to Chuck or Charlie or something like that.  Chas was an unusual name for an unusual man.  He sure was a good cook and in a different time and place Tucker would have reveled in the meals placed before him, but not now.  Eating was pointless and the sooner Chas agreed the better they would get along.  So Chas cooked and created and Tucker moved it around his plate until Chas took his plate away.  He had researched this and knew that if he ate and kept his strength up, it would prolong the dying process.  He could see no reason to do that.  It was hopeless.  He would never be any better and death was inevitable.  He had thought briefly about suicide, but he thought that through and knew that Cynthia would be the one to find him.  She was the only one with a key and he could not put her through that.  By the time he was comfortable enough with Chas to think of suicide again, Margie has taken all the guns away.  So he just quit eating.

     So Cynthia came every morning and hospice sent workers to bathe him and help him shave and do the many things that they did.  Cynthia went home in the afternoon and Chas came by for several hours.  He and Cynthia had not met, but both asked about the other.  He guessed that was just another form of civility that was necessary to get through this ordeal.  Friends drove down from Denver and one flew in from California.  One friend helped him catalog his Japanese sword collection and mail it to a dealer in St. Louis. The house was getting emptied out and Marge was banking money.  He would need it when he needed more care.

     Cynthia went home every evening when he went to bed.  It was just him and Cleo.  He began to discover that he had a sensitive side he had not known existed.  Tears came easily.  That was not something he had ever done before, but now he noticed when the little Ford pulled away and the brake light flickered at the corner, that he was very sad.  Sad and afraid.  Afraid?  He had never been afraid in his life, but now he heard sounds and woke up shaking.  The second night this happened he decided to tell Cynthia.

     “Cyn, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I am afraid of the dark.  I get really scared when you leave me.”  He looked at Cynthia so sadly that she could only reach for his hand and with a tear in her own voice she comforted him.

     “Tucker, this is not unusual at all.  I have been studying this and it is very normal.  Let me talk to Marge and see what we can do.  I am pretty sure hospice does not send people out at night.  I have the dogs and my geese and ducks that need me at home, so I can’t stay.  Maybe you can come stay with me.  Marge will be here this afternoon and we will work this out.  Right now I am going to make you some tea and toss in a load of laundry.”

     Tucker smiled at her and she smiled back.  She would be there for him.  He knew that.  He did not know why.  He had told Anton several times about how she would wait when he wasn’t ready and never scold him.  She would pull weeds while he talked on the phone.  She would walk the dog when he was tinkering in the garage.  Was it because she cared?  He knew she had other things to do so it wasn’t because she had time on her hands.  She must care.  He tried not to think about it.  It confused him.  She knew he was dying.  No future there.  Maybe she was just a good person.  Who knew.  

     Marge listened as Cynthia and Tucker told her about the fear Tucker felt when he was alone.  Marge was not surprised.  Fear and dying often went hand in hand.  She was pleased that Cynthia would take Tucker home at night and bring him back in the morning.  That way he would still have the comfort of his own home all day and hospice would take care of him there.  She was pleased that Tucker felt comfortable enough with Cynthia to sleep there.  She had never known him to spend a night anywhere except his own house.  And she had certainly never seen the gentle air about Tucker that now was always there.  Tucker had always been rather selfish, but now he was giving.  Giving and kind.  He said nice things for no reason.  And it was not an act.  His whole countenance was one of a caring person.  Must be the dying process.

     So she returned to Denver, promising to return in a week.  She knew she was going to need to fly to Florida and spend some time with her friend Jean, who was dealing with health problems, but for now Tucker was her prime concern.

*****************************************************************

Now you should know, that I have put over a year into writing this.  This is time I could have spent making things and selling them for real money.  So here is the deal...I write, you read and I am now asking for monetary compensation so I can continue to write instead of working.  If you like what you read and want more of it, there is a paypal button following this.  I have given you choices on how much you enjoy my writing and they are all three a mere pittance so I leave it in your hands now.  You will not receive anything, but I will receive money.  Money will enable me to keep writing.  No money will send me to the basement to sew. 
Have a good day and thank you for reading Long Ago and Not Very Far Away

 

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

Your opportunity to contribute to a starving artist.

This is your chance to show me how much you are enjoying reading Long Ago and Not Very Far Away.  Be sure and check out the drop down ratings.  If this works out I can keep doing the online stories and not bother with the publishing business.

Rating

Liked it some $5.00 USD Liked it more $10.00 USD Crazy about this book! $12.50 USD

And thanks for reading.

Installment #45 Sister Nancy comes to call.

     Tucker had gone up to his room to rest after breakfast and Cynthia was putting the last of the dishes in the cupboard when the doorbell rang.  She hurried to the door and pulled it open.  Sister Nancy stood on the porch smiling.  Cynthia reached out and embraced the dear woman.  This woman was truly a gift from God.  Cynthia could not help being humbled every time she encountered her.  Today was no exception.

     “Well, Cynthia, here I am.  I told you I would come and where is our dear Tucker?”

     “He went up to lay down a little bit, but I heard him walking around, so he is not asleep.” 

     Sister Nancy smiled and stepped to the bottom of the stairs.  “Tucker Fuhrman!  This is Sister Nancy down here to see you.  I am in my full habit and you better get down here right now.”  Cynthia smiled at the nun who stood there in a pair of blue jeans, tennis shoes and a cotton blouse.  She was smiling and her whole face beamed.  To Cynthia’s surprise, Tuckers face appeared at the head of the stairs.  He looked like a naughty school boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  As he started slowly down the stairs Cynthia was suddenly filled with happiness.  This was going to be alright.  She knew it!  She reached for the leash and Cleo ran to her side.

     “OK, Sister, you are on your own.  I will be back in an hour or so and if you are gone I will catch up with you later.”  With that she and the dog stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind them and when she came back later, Sister Nancy was gone and nothing was said about the visit.  Tucker did make the remark that “Sister Nancy was not at all like I expected her to be.”  And Tucker seemed to have a more relaxed air about him.  For that Cynthia was grateful.

     And Tucker did have more news.  “Some guy called today from hospice.  He is a volunteer.  I forgot his name, but he is going to come and visit later this afternoon and he says he is a cook.  Well, he actually said he was a chef.  He will fix me something to eat so you do not need to stay unless you just want to meet him.”

     Cynthia smiled.  She knew this would be the “buddy” that hospice had promised.  “I think I will just let you two get acquainted.  I have plenty to do at home.  What time is he coming?”

     Tucker looked confused.  “I don’t know.  He said later, so I guess it will be later.  But you can leave whenever because I think I am going to take a nap!”  He smiled.  Cynthia smiled back.

     “Well, then I am going to leave you to your nap and trust that you will call me later?”

     “Yes, I will.”  He stood and kissed her on the forehead as she stood in the opened door.  Then he closed it behind her, turned the key and started up the staircase toward his bed.  He needed this time alone to think back on his visit with Sister Nancy. 

     As he lay on his bed being very careful not to disturb the covers, he reflected on his visit.  He was glad that Cynthia had taken the dog and left him alone.  At first he had known a moment of panic.  A Catholic Sister in his front room!  He had carefully avoided all things Catholic for many years and now there was one standing right before him.

     She did not have a habit on at all!  She was dressed in blue jeans.  And she was short!  Very short.  Shorter than Cynthia.  And heavier.  And her face was round and her smile was wide and very friendly.  If he had to pick a mother figure out of the women in the whole world, he would have picked her.  He longed to fall in her arms and let her hold him and soothe all his fears.  If only… 

     And then to his surprise, Sister Nancy opened her arms and the 6’2” German from St. Louis who needed no one to make his life complete was suddenly clinging to this tiny woman and pouring out his heart; his needs, his wants, his frustrations, and his terror at the prospect of leaving this world.  And she patted him softly and crooned to him.  Yes! He was home with the beloved Catholic Church that he had left so many years ago.  And Father Pat would come to see him and Father Pat would prepare his soul for it’s journey.

     And as he closed his eyes he could see the beloved Blessed Mary with her arms open wide and behind her was Momma and Poppa.  Oh! And Grandma.  As he drifted in the blessed arms he slept the first peaceful sleep he had known in 50 years.  Thank you, my dear Sister Nancy!