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Short  Stories

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                              From My New Book, "This Is Horrible, Stories You'll Regret Reading"

 

                                                                             The Critic 

 

      It was late Spring in Cindy's little, rural North Carolina town. Soon school would be out for the Summer and the school kids couldn't wait. There was no air conditioning anywhere in town, including the old brick schoolhouse. The heat and humidity were oppressive. Even the teachers were lethargic. Mrs. Bancroft, the fifth grade teacher, was giving more and more long rest periods. She left all the eight foot windows raised in hopes of even a small breeze blowing in. She told the children they could sleep, read or work on their homework during their rest periods. That suited Cindy just fine. She was working on her first book and rest periods gave her extra time to finish it.

      Every day Cindy wrote and drew the illustrations. The day she finished the book she was so thrilled. Even if nobody but her ever saw it, she had the pleasure and pride of having finished it. It was a unique book, written in the science fiction genre that fascinated Cindy. There were pictures of different planets, the monsters that lived on each one. She included the moon, just because it was so close to Earth. The moon monster was a horrific creature with a skeleton head and body that tapered off into one huge claw. It had enormous sheer bat-like wings on its back and it made a fearful noise like the humming of hundreds of bees when it flew. It was the best art work Cindy had ever done. She stapled the pages together and tucked the book into the space under her desk.

      That day the rest period was especially long. Cindy laid her head down on her desk and fell asleep. She awoke to Mrs. Bancroft standing next to her, turning the pages of her book. The teacher carelessly dropped it down on the desk and said, “That monster from the moon doesn't belong in this collection, it's about planets not moons.” That was it.... no words of praise for creativity or hard work, just a criticism. It felt like a knife in Cindy's heart.

      Before the teacher could turn and walk back to her desk, a loud humming was growing outside the window drawing nearer and nearer. Soon the the owner of that hum appeared as it flew into the room through a nearby window. It had a skeleton head and body, no feet. Its body tapered off into one  large, sharp claw. On its back were unfurled, gigantic sheer, bat-like wings. Before Cindy could collect her thoughts, the hideous thing caught Mrs. Bancroft in his skeletal arms, jumped out of the tall window and flew away with her. It was a big mystery. None of the other children had seen what happened and the police eventually gave up their search for Mrs. Bancroft.

      Cindy kept her mouth shut, she couldn't explain it anyway. She hoped the creature didn't eat her teacher and that somehow she was having a good life on the moon. For years to come, every time Cindy looked at the moon she thought of Mrs. Bancroft. Cindy didn't show her book to anyone and she didn't write again for many years. She couldn't take the critique and believed she had no talent as a writer, She especially couldn't endure the trauma of drawing or creating a character and watching it destroy her critics

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​Undying Love 

 

 

 

    Barbara Anne Stephens was probably one of the most beautiful girls, no, the most beautiful girl, to ever come out of these mountains. With coal black hair and nearly black eyes, she was a real looker. Some said her mama had been sneakin 'round the reservation when she got pregnant with Babs, but nobody ever dared do more than whisper it.

Her daddy, Robert Stephens was a mine boss, a rich and powerful man. No one would dare cross him or so much as make a disrespectful remark about his wife, Marie, even if her little daughter looked more like a Cherokee than a white girl.

    Growin up happened quick for Babs. Every boy in high school and out, wanted to date her; possibly marry her and definitely deflower her. She was fresh out of high school and barely 17 when she married Asa Malloy, a rich, Knoxville doctor, 15 years older than her. Some said it was a shotgun weddin but if it was, there was no baby to prove it, even after seven years of marriage.

     Asa Malloy took Babs away from the hills to live near his practice in Knoxville. I heard she won't happy in the city and begged to come back home. I reckon she missed her mama and daddy, but if the truth be known, I think maybe she missed all the male attention she got around here.

     World War II was in full force when Asa moved Babs back home. Not 'cause she wanted it, but 'cause he could get a full deferment if he was the only doctor available to folks within a 50 mile radius. Asa had to do some travelin to serve all his rural patients but I guess he felt like that was a small sacrifice compared to being a battleground doctor in Europe or somewhere else where he was likely to get shot. He still went to his Knoxville office two times a month and he got a salary from the government for takin care of the poorest mountain folk.  

     Needless to say, Babs must have been excited and happy to be back home in the mountains. Asa built her the biggest and finest house anywhere around these parts. She bought expensive furniture to fill the rooms and trunks full of swanky clothes to fill the closets. Babs was the only woman around here, except her mama, to have diamonds, gems, silks, satins and and store bought fur coats. 

     Babs was beautiful in high school but she was a goddess when she came back home in her twenties. Every man around wanted to be near her, just to look at her and hear her voice. I was no exception, but I wanted to do more than look and listen. I knew I didn't stand a chance, I was a coal miner, she was the richest woman in the hills, but a man can dream and dream I did. Babs filled every night dream and the few daydreams I had time to manage. This had been goin on since before I grew body hair. Even after Babs moved to Knoxville, my heart couldn't accept that she was lost to me. A man can dream and sometimes his dreams come true . I secretly hoped mine would, someday and any way. 

     I would have been servin my time in the military if I hadn't been cursed (or blessed, dependin on the times you lived in) with flat feet. The government also needed coal miners for the war effort, so I escaped service. So many miners left for the military. I'd been minin since finishin high school, so ole man Stephens made me second boss. I made more money and did less work so it suited me just fine. I had hopes of replacin Stephens when he retired and then I'd make a lot a money; maybe enough money to win Babs away from Dr. Malloy, who'd be old and decrepit by that time. Anyway, the talk was that he had more than one girlfriend on the side.  What kinda man would do that, with a woman like Babs at home?

     Since my work load let up some I was able to enjoy somewhat of a social life. I could usually be found at one of the two bars in the area on Saturday nights. I'm not much of a drinker but at least I could be around other people while I gradually downed a beer or two. I really wanted some female companionship but it was slim pickins. Not too many single women, most of 'em worth lookin at were already married. I hardly ever talked to any women but I kept hopin I'd find one pretty and smart enough to interest me.

     I was sittin at the bar at the Night Owl when I almost fell off the bar stool. Who walked in but Babs Malloy! She was dressed in a white fur coat, a little black dress and high heel shoes. There were diamonds on her ears, around her neck, on her ring finger and bangles up to her elbow. Her curled, shoulder-length, black hair shone with almost blue highlights in the candlelight. What the hell was a classy woman like her doin in this low class dive?  

I was about to find out. I was goin to get to her before any other man had a chance to. I hurried over to her table where she was sippin on a rum and coke. I had to almost yell at her since the music from the jukebox was deafenin. 

     “Hi, Babs. Remember me?” 

     “No, should I?” 

     “I'm Jeremy Shields. We went through school together. I have to say, you're even more beautiful than you were back then.” 

     “Jeremy, Jeremy Shields, Oh, yes, I remember. They called you Jerry. You were a football jock, weren't you? Not my type. I like the intellectuals, but if I remember right you were a good quarterback.” 

     “Yeah, I played all four years. Had a pretty good grade average too. So, how's life treatin you Babs?” 

     “How's life treating me? Well, life is just ducky, Jeremy. I got all the money a girl could want and a man who's never around. He can't even stay home long enough to knock me up. It's been seven years and I still don't have a baby. I don't even have anybody to talk to, eat with or sleep with. Everybody says he's got several girlfriends in two states. Life is about as wonderful as it can get. Of course, I could be living in poverty or dying of some nasty disease, or I could be dead, so I guess my life is just ducky. How's yours?” 

     From her emotional outburst it was clear she'd been drinkin a lot before she arrived at the bar.  

     “Mind if I sit down, Babs?” 

     “Sure, knock yourself out, more the merrier. Just don't tell me how much I can or can't drink.”

     I sat down and pulled my chair close to hers.  

     "My life's OK. Second boss at the mine. Takin some courses on weekends over at the tech school. Life's OK, but like you, I got nobody to talk to or be with. Do you think we could help each other out with that problem?” 

     “Un un, I know what that means. You wanna take me over to your pitiful, little, rented room and take advantage of me 'cause I'm drunk. I'm not that needy, Jeremy. But you are still kinda handsome.” 

     “I own a house, Babs. Not a fine one like yours but it's nice enough. You think you got men all figured out don't you?” 

     She leaned over toward me, her jasmine perfume grabbin my senses and the view of her cleavage invitin me to touch her. She looked up and those black eyes pierced all the way into the core of my soul. A tear escaped one eye and slid down her beautiful face. I couldn't take advantage of her drunkenness. It was then I realized I was more than in lust with Babs. I had been in love with her since first grade. Her tears tore at my heart and I wanted to protect her. 

     “Come on, Sweetheart. Your car outside?” 

     “Yes, but I'm not done drinking yet.” 

    “I think you're done now and you can't drive. Here, take my arm and let me help you to your car. I'll drive you home.” 

     “But I live four miles from here, how you gonna get back?” 

     “I'll walk. I like walkin, I do it for exercise. It's OK.” 

    “But it's not safe to be out in the mountains walking late at night. I can't let you do that.” 

    “I'm a big boy, I'll be fine. Come on, let's get you home.”

     I reached in my jacket pocket and touched the 38 revolver I was packin. She was right about danger in the mountains at night. I drove her home in her car. That Caddy, wow, what a sweet ride. It reminded me of Babs....sleek, classy and expensive. She sat close to me on the bench seat. Her head naturally found its way onto my shoulder. I had to wake her up when we got to her mansion on the hill. I helped her into her house. I'd never seen such a fine home. It was built in the old Victorian style, so big it must have had 20 rooms. It was shockin to see something so expensive in the middle of the poverty all around it.

     I walked back to the Night Owl. On the way I had some time to think.  What was I about to get myself into? No doubt her marriage was dead and she was desperately lonely. What should I do and would it be worth the problems it might cause?  I realized I had wanted to be close to Babs since I was a little boy. I was now on the verge of havin her but should I cross that line? I knew right from wrong but was it always as sharp a line as I'd been taught it was? Was I about to experience Heaven or trip over my lust and land in Hell?  

     bloody scream came from the woods. I touched the revolver again. It always amazed me how a cougar's scream sounded so much like a woman's. It was difficult to know which was more dangerous, a mountain lion or a woman. 

     I finally reached my car in the bar parkin lot. I was tired. I drove home. Squeakers, my dog, met me at the door, dancing in circles. Me and him curled up on the bed and went right to sleep. I dreamed of Babs, without the furs and the little, black dress. In my dream she was wearin nothin but those sparkly diamonds and high heels. I knew I was wadin into some dangerous waters but I couldn't seem to help myself. 

     The week went by slowly. Saturday night finally showed up. I put Squeaker, into the back seat of my old Buick. I had rescued him on the side of the road a couple of months before and he still got nervous if I left him. I was havin a beer at the Night Owl Bar, when Babs walked in. Every man in the room looked up at her like they had built-in radar. They all watched as she sat down at the bar next to me. 

     “Hi, Jeremy. Thank you for helping me out last weekend. I was wasted. I'd never have made it home without driving off the mountain. It was kind of you. You probably pick up lost puppies and give 'em a home, don't you?” 

     “You're more than welcome, Babs. You're no lost puppy, Baby, but I'd love to give you a home.” 

     “Don't say things you don't mean, Jeremy.” 

    “I never meant anything more in my whole life. I've loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you in Mrs. Bowling's first grade class. I've never seen any creature God made as perfect as he did you. I know you're miserable with the Good Doctor. Why don't you let me make you happy? I'm not rich but we'd be rich in love. Leave him, Babs. All that money and that big house aint makin you happy. Love is what you need and undyin love is what I can give you.” 

     She leaned over, lightly kissed my lips and whispered in my ear, 

     “Get me outa here, let's go.” 

     We walked out arm in arm to the parkin lot. It was a clear night with only a sliver of a moon and trillions of stars in the sky. I'll always remember how bright the stars were shinnin. My heart was about to explode with joy, Babs was goin home with me. She had chosen me. It was the happiest moment of my life. Squeaker was jumpin up and down with joy when we got in the car. Babs had to pet him and give him a little sweet baby talk.        “Oh, wook at da baby, him's a precious baby.” 

     My life became complete that night. Babs was mine, mine at last and forever. After we left the Night Owl Bar that night long ago, I remember bein a little buzzed and drivin my car way too fast, up Two Creeks Road. It was a steep climb up the mountain with sharp curves. Babs was laughin, laughin and screamin, “Slow down Jeremy, You're gonna kill us.”  

     It's the last thing I remember about that night. Oh, but there have been countless other nights since then. Now we meet every night. We don't go to my house or hers. We've found the perfect place. Nobody ever bothers us here. This place has been abandoned since the end of the war. The decades have rolled past and the forest has reclaimed most all of it. The path is completely overgrown now. If you sit quietly on one of the old, stone benches, you can hear the wind movin through the tall trees and the wolves singin their hymns. We meet here in this forgotten place, just Babs and me. We have long talks and walks in summer moonlight or winter snow. My puppy, Squeakers, tags along behind us. That dog does love Babs.

     This is a private, beautiful world, 'cause love lives here. People are scared to come up here to this ancient place. Everybody always said there was an old Indian burial ground here long before anything else and it's haunted. I never see anybody but Babs and Squeaker and that's the way I want it to stay. In a few more years, if they aint already, everybody will forget about this lonely mountaintop. Nobody has moved in here since the 1940's, me and Babs was the last ones. Time means nothin here, love is the only thing that has any meanin. Love between me and Babs and the God who made us. You can't read our headstones anymore, but it don't matter.

     Shhhh....here she comes. Can you hear her footsteps and smell her jasmine perfume? Babs and me belong together. Our love is undyin.

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