Author: authorrowland

One Sunny Day In the Ass Crack of the World

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One Sunny Day In the Ass Crack of the World

We hauled ass down the road taking pot shots at anyone in front of us that didn’t stop as we honked. Just warning ones, but it didn’t matter, they either move, we blow their tires, or worst case aim for heads. Between the time I saw the cloud and now was less than five minutes, but it felt like a couple of hours. It’s times like this that your training just kicks in and you stop thinking. Stop feeling. Reacting in a way that makes it seem like you are riding along in your own body.

As we approached the scene I could see that a Mobile Assault Platoon (MAP) is already there. Five gun trucks and a highback, like an armored pickup, making up the unit along with about twenty-five Marines. They had already secured the area and were forcing all of the regular traffic back. We pulled up and the Iraqi Army (IA) guys were on point. They knew what had to be done, I’d told them on the way over. Since they were locals they could do a better job keeping the citizens in check than a bunch of on edge Marines looking for something to shoot. It was chaos, even in hindsight there is still a lot I can’t remember clearly, if at all.

* * * * *

One thing about the desert, especially the one in the Middle East, is that it’s HOT. I mean damn hot. Hot to the point you wish you could get in the proverbial frying pan to cool off. I spent almost two years of my life there over the course of several trips. My second time was the worst. I had been assigned to our headquarters company to be used for whatever. This usually meant the crap jobs. I was assigned to work at one of the Entry Control Points to the city of Fallujah. A shining gem of Iraqi society and favorite destination for international travelers.

It made sense in regards to what i knew. I had previous experience as a security guy, not the mall kind, but the kind that did background checks, worked with and destroyed the classified papers, and even was in charge of Security during the invasion for one of the Generals, like the Secret Service, but with none of the perks. I had a ton of training in it too, this included counter terrorism and physical security of buildings, locations and what not. So when I first arrived at my new job I saw the things that were wrong. Like a good little Marine I pointed out what I saw. And was ignored.

The problem was that our main post was set in the middle of one of those clover leaf on/off ramps of a highway, the ones that make a huge circle. It was sunk enough so even a leprechaun walking up the ramp could look down over the eight foot concrete barrier into the little checkpoint. It was like opening the hen house door at night and then expecting the fox to go to Applebees instead. I didn’t have to worry about it, they sent me half a click (kilometer) up the road to be in charge of the satelite post that checked commercial traffic.

I did it again, pointing out what I saw was wrong. I was ignored again. It got to the point that I was threatened with punishment if I kept it up. One of those things where they would punish you for something that you really didn’t do like disobeying an order, but where the order was to stop talking about the gaps in security. It sounds asinine, but it was the military. It’s about who is in charge, not what makes sense. The higher ups (bosses) are always looking to make themselves appear better, just like in the real world. And in that regard they could care less about those beneath them in pursuit of that appearance. In corporate America this means the workers might get stiffed some hours, benefits or what not, in the military it can get you killed.

* * * * *

I was lucky when it happened. On this morning we were just waiting, because we were a satellite outpost it took awhile for ride to come by and grab us during shift change. We had opened the post for the morning rush. The gates open at 6am and the trucks start rolling in. No rest for the wicked, or the jarheads in this case. So, it was like any other morning, but nice and sunny. I was out in the main area supervising, just waiting for our ride. Then I saw the cloud from an explosion. Moments later the shockwave came and knocked me on my ass. I was up in a jiffy and yelling at the guys on the towers if they saw anything.

No one had a clue. We suspected what had happened but wanted to know. I ran into the trailer while shouting to shut everything the fuck down. We turned all the trucks around that were in the post and the ones waiting. I also gave the clear to go hot, loading all our guns, and no more escalation of force procedures. We had certain Rules of Engagement we had to follow. This could be waived if a situation arose and an officer said to ignore them. I wasn’t an officer, but none were around and I could answer for it later, because that meant I would still be alive. So the new rules were, if something looked wrong, just shoot it. No warning shots or anything. If it moves kill it, if not, shoot it till it moves, then kill it.

I tried calling on the radio but wasn’t getting any details. We had long range walkie talkies as well to try and call over to the base, which was less than a mile away. I was trying to get hold of the main post anyway I could. I called in the explosion to headquarters, but they were trying to figure out what to have for breakfast or something. Finally, after about three minutes I got a message, “They hit us.” From the radio. It wasn’t a lot, but enough. We didn’t have any transportation, but our IA guys had a truck, more like an open bed cargo truck, but close enough for government work.

It was a piece of shit to boot, we had to push it to get it started. Luckily it was a day when it did it on the first try. Maybe having a dozen people pushing it instead of the usual three did the trick. No one was in the mood to figure it out though. I passed off the reins to one of my Corporals, barked orders to the IA guys to load up, and took off in their transportation with half a dozen of them. I wanted my guys to stay behind and secure our post, plus they had just been assigned there, a rotating post. Only a couple had been there as long as me and they needed to stay to run it, plus none of them were infantry. None of them needed to see the shit that might be waiting. Plus, I was the only one that could speak any lick of Arabic.

* * * * *

I saw the cause for the mess as we pulled in. Halfway up the on ramp was a large orange dump truck. The ramp went to the right of the post and up at about fifteen degrees until it met the highway that ran across the bridge right before it. There was nothing but desert on the other side from the edge of the asphalt, down the embankment, and then out as far as the eye could see. The truck had been loaded with explosives. It had pulled up right next to the post, just above the concrete barriers and detonated. The on ramp was two lanes, it was the outer one.

There was one car between it and the post, and a couple behind it. They were all on fire. I could see the engine from the truck about 200 meters further up the on ramp. The only thing I could tell about a couple of the cars were what kind they were. The explosion had ripped the one next to it apart so bad, just saying it was a sedan was a 50/50 gamble. The three bays we used to inspect vehicles were all collapsed, these were on the opposite side on the post on the road that entered the city, about 150 meters away from the ramp.

The thing about a landscape that had just been devastated by a large explosion is it takes time to adjust to the new scene, like trying to understand calculus the first time they throw it at you. I know I saw the wreckage when I first got there, but I still can’t remember seeing all the dead and injured until a bit later. If it was my brain trying to put it all in place, or just it trying to protect me I can’t say, the type of cognitive dissonance you get when you are first told Santa isn’t real. It eventually had to settle in though. With the changeover happening there was almost thirty Marines on the post.

The first big thing, aside from the wanton destruction of structures and cars, was seeing my Gunnery Sergeant crawling out from the rumble of our little building. It wasn’t the best built thing in the world, just a bunch of plywood really, but it was covered in sandbags and surrounded by smaller concrete barriers and hesco barriers, canvas square boxes held together by wire framing that are then filled with dirt. The Hescos are great because they absorb shrapnel. There were a ton of them around the building.

It wasn’t until I saw the corpsmen (Doc) from 3rd MAP lining up the wounded that I began to realize how bad it was. There were maybe five or six at this point. A bunch of others were wandering around in a daze. Being that close to hundreds of pounds of explosives going off would do that to a guy. I had to put everything out of my head and start doing my job. The site itself was secure, the other platoon had set a perimeter and no follow-on attacks were happening so that was done.

* * * * *

I was the highest-ranking member of the checkpoint crew that wasn’t injured or in a daze, so I had to do the head count. This part is always shitty. The headcount usually is the last act when you are done training or doing something that involves moving a lot of people around. You have to make sure you didn’t lose anyone, like a kindergarten teacher. After an attack it was the first thing, to see how many you did lose.

I also had to work with our Iraqi counterparts because the post also had Iraqi Police and Army guys. We all started going around taking count of our people. How low is the bar that each time you see one of your people your only thought is, he’s alive, regardless of how fucked up he is?

You don’t think about it initially, you just want to make sure that everyone is alive. Fixing them up is secondary. I took a mental roll call and found most of them, we had to get a couple out of the building. That was where the shift change happened, everyone else waited outside, so not too many were in there. One thing I can say about our engineers, they overdue structural support, which wasn’t a bad thing in this case. The guys in the building were just trapped under stuff, but not really hurt, aside from the blast wave that gave them a concussion and maybe a headache from random stuff that might have fallen on their heads.

Then I made the way to the Tower that had been closest to the blast, it had collapsed. I saw one of the last guys I was still missing. Well part of him.

Most of the Marines that were outside had been sitting behind the 7-ton, which was armored. Think monster truck, but more practical. The angle of the blast based on the height of the on ramp was higher than where they were sitting. The truck was taller, so when the blast went off it shielded them from a majority of the shrapnel. The tower on the other hand would have been almost level and nothing was in the way.

LCpl Short had nothing in his way to stop the incoming fragments. The only solace I could take was that he probably didn’t even know what happened and that it was quick. Seeing something like that first hand, right after seeing the cause, and knowing the guy, is one the hardest things most of us had ever been through. In all we lost one Marine, and three Iraqis. This was just the service member fatalities though. There were easily a dozen wounded, that number would grow to over thirty Marines alone in the next day or two.

* * * * *

The blast had turned the concrete barriers into tiny shrapnel, debris from the bomb and vehicle. The larger bits that hit people were obvious, but some guys didn’t start reacting to the smaller bits for a while, once their systems started to force it out and they became sick. The blast had been so large that this eventually was the cause for most of the wounded. I never did find out how many of our Iraqi co-workers had this problem. They were all sent elsewhere, and a new crew came in.

It’s not like I hadn’t seen things like this before, it was just a little more personal, but I was still rolling with it. The thing that still haunts my dreams was yet to come. Once I knew where all of my people were. I started to survey the damage outside of our post. The ambulances and other first responders were showing up now.

Most Iraqis are decent human beings who have to live in conditions you can never even imagine. Despite this they carry on and react to situations like true heroes and help each other. We had been so conditioned to see them as an enemy that you can’t imagine them as anything else. Look at the basic math for this scenario, the bad guys got one Marine and wounded a bunch more, but they also killed three Iraqi service members and I don’t even know how many civilians.

* * * * *

We’re trained to expect death and losses. It’s part of the job. The thing they can’t prepare you for is all the other shit. At least half a dozen cars had been taken out in the blast. They were just going about their business when it happened. I had seen burned bodies before, nothing new on the experience scale, but the thing that hit me came almost out of nowhere. Even had I known it was coming I couldn’t have prepared for it.

The paramedics were pulling a guy out of car that had been right next to the truck when it went off. I mean it was right next to the post and was just to the left of the truck. The explosives were likely packed to detonate to its left. I say this, because the damage to the right of the truck was minimal. They knew their target and how to get the most carnage in. That car though had a family in it. Mom and Dad in the front and two kids in the back. If the kids were older than ten I would have been surprised, it’s hard to tell though when all that is left is smoldering flesh.

The medics were working on the dad. By some miracle, if you would even call it that, he had survived. Looking at him though, covered in burns and his clothes melted into his flesh I can’t imagine that it would be a very lengthy or pleasant existence. His entire right side was burnt, his left side still had some skin. The thing that hit me the hardest though was that as he was placed on a stretcher he rolled towards an ambulance and started yelling.

This was one time I wished I didn’t know Arabic. He was calling for his wife and children. Here is a guy that should be in intense pain, burnt over a majority of his body and all he can think of is his family. It was a testament to what true love is. And because of it I don’t think I could ever feel it myself again. There are things that can scar you, this is one of them. Because now when I turned and looked at was left of his family I saw them as the people they might have been before the blast took them. I had names now, I had a family member wanting to know if they were still alive. He couldn’t tell, shit he probably couldn’t even fathom much at this point. I never did find out what happened to him.

The smell of the burning flesh of children has a way of changing how you look at the world. It also lingers for the rest of your life. You might have defining events, but stuff that alters the very core of who you are I don’t wish on anyone. The compounding of all the events of that day are still the biggest cause of my inability to effectively reintegrate back into the real world.

* * * * *

When I finally got back to my post I had to gather up all my guys and give them the news. I was just blunt about it. In hindsight I could have been subtler, but we were Marines, just do it and get it over with. I told them, “We lost one, he’s dead.” Nice and simple. Most of them took it in stride, but one of my Corporals just broke down. He was LCpl Short’s friend. They were basically inseparable when we weren’t working. A fist through a wall, then crying. Sights like that can be just as heartbreaking because you know that somewhere a family will be doing the same thing, but worse.

None of it made sense. No rhyme or reason. Do you want closure? Tough luck. Life is rarely wrapped up and topped with a bow, sometimes it just never makes sense, no matter how long or hard you think about it. So get over it.

Random Thoughts and Inclinations

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Yup, time for another trip down the random road……..

Things that are new and intriguing, for me at least…….

  1. I am newly single (again)
  2. Being a single father isn’t as bad as the press would lead you to believe.
  3. Teenagers aren’t the devil (at least mine isn’t)
  4. Writing isn’t as hard as people would lead you to believe, but revising is.
  5. Things that are bad for you are really enjoyable.
  6. I really need to dive into a good book, or write one.

Just me rambling a bit since I need something to post in between my actual writing.  At this point I am finding getting back to full on immersive writing to be problematic at best.  I don’t know why, I have a ton of ideas, lots of things that are in various stages.  So I could get back into things with fleshed out characters, finish developing an idea I have already done the research on, or start fresh.  Just weird.

Maybe I have been under the shroud of constraints for the better part of a year and am used to the comfortable feeling of guidance.  Or I just might be lazy…….

I am hoping that my forthcoming holiday will rejuvenate me and get my ass back into gear.  When I put my mind to it I can kick out prose like a boss (quality aside).  Quantity is not an issue for me.  But you only get better by doing, and even if in the grand scheme of things I suck at this, then at least I have no where to go but up.

This is just me meandering at the keyboard while typing letters and trying to form them into a coherent mess.  Maybe someone will read this and figure out what the hell I am trying to get at, or not.  It could just be a shiny screen for a pet cat to look at while their master is watching TV and wants to distract the pet from clawing the furniture…..  There’s and idea…. a sentient cat tricks their owner to open the computer so they can have access to the internet to mobilize all the other cats for a revolution or something…..

This is how my brain kind of works and it worries me….. Or it is plotting against me.  Help? Maybe?  I will have to think on it, no, that is what it wants me to do……..

Group Discussion

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Author Note:  This was a rewrite for “Power Outage”.  Roughly the first three pages are the same as the previous, but it takes a totally different turn.  So if you read the last one, then just skip ahead.

Group Discussion

The candle flickered in the wind as the slight breeze whisked through the window. The night had a severe chill to it and it was uncomfortable for Renard as he sat sipping his hot chocolate. It wasn’t his first drink of choice for the weather, but it had gotten cold quickly and it was the only things that he had in the house at the time, so he just made it. He was actually enjoying it a little too. He wasn’t sure how long it had sat at the top of the cupboard, but it had the little marshmallows in it, that made him smile when he first saw it. Now he was just sitting there.

Normally it wouldn’t have been a problem for him, but the power had gone out as well, thus the candle. Now he was just waiting for them to fix it and to get the furnace started. He was using an electric one. The gas lines didn’t run to where he lived. He had to open the window because the only candle he could find to provide light as the sun set let off some smoke, he wasn’t sure why, but it did. His old camping stove provided a place to make his beverage and to make some dinner, which was just a can of soup he found in the same place as the hot chocolate.

There was food in the fridge and freezer, but nothing that he wanted to try and cook on the little stove. Plus, he didn’t want to open the fridge and risk is thawing out. He had no idea about when the power would be back on, so he decided to play it safe. The one thing he had to be able to do though was to read, and the smoky candle provided him with the light he needed to do so. He thought that he had hit pay dirt when he dug out the old stove, but the flashlight that was with it was dead and he had no extra “D” batteries handy to replace the old ones with. SO here he was wrapped in a blanket by a slightly open window with a smoky candle sipping hot chocolate and reading a book.

It was still an hour or two before he went to bed and he kept checking the website of the power company on his cell phone to see the updates of the power line repair. There was a small storm earlier, but nothing that would have knocked out the power. When he finally got to the site he read that it was an accident caused by the storm. A car had hit the post. That was all it said. He wanted to check the news for more information, but he didn’t want to waste his battery. Right now though he was only concerned with reading the book that he had started a few days ago and getting through the night.

As Renard turned the page to start the next chapter, there was a knock at the door. It took a moment for him to realize that it was his door. He was that absorbed in the story he was reading. Another rap at the entry made it clear it was his. He carefully put the bookmark in the page he was on and set the paperback down. Then he got up and tossed the blanket on the chair he was in. He slowly made his way to the front entrance. It was dark everywhere else in the house and he didn’t want to stub a toe of anything.

The knocking kept coming at regular intervals as he worked towards it. He finally got there and peeked into the small lens that allowed him to see who was on the other side. It was dark outside too and the streetlights were not on, so at best he could only make out a shadow. It was probably just a neighbor who needed something. Renard wasn’t that familiar with many of his neighbors, but he thought himself friendly enough when he did engage with them. He opened the door to expect to see Mrs. Landon from next door, who might have lost one of her small poodles. They were yippy whenever he walked by, but they were small and cute.

It could have been Mr. Kowalchek from across the street, a retired Navy man who always made sure to raise and lower his American flag at sunrise and sunset every day. He was a stickler for that and for as long as Renard had lived here he believed the old man never missed a day doing it. He went on vacation once for a week and had asked Renard to do it. Getting a reputation of being unreliable was a bad thing in the area, besides Mrs. Kowalchek made the best cupcakes. Ever since he had helped with the flag for their vacation she had made him a batch every major holiday. That was a privilege he didn’t want to lose.

He fumbled with the deadbolt, then the lock on the door. He slowly opened it. When he was finally able to see the person on the other side it was an unfamiliar face. “Excuse me,” the still unknown face said, “the power is out and I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Renard’s vision adjusted to the dim light and he realized it was Amy. He had just recently asked her out. They had gone on two dates so far and he really liked her. She only lived a few blocks away and worked at the corner coffee shop, which is where they met. “Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

“And I wasn’t expecting to come over. But after a while of sitting in my apartment I started thinking of you and decided just to risk it and come over.”

“Not an unpleasant thing to do. Come in, I just made some hot chocolate, would you like some?”

“Would I?” Amy said as she stepped into the house. Renard closed the door behind her. Then he took her hand and guided her to the living room by the candle. She sat on the couch that was across from where Renard had been sitting. He quickly found another mug and made her some cocoa.

“So what exactly were you thinking about me?” Renard smiled as he handed her the mug.

“How much fun we’ve had on our first two dates and what a great guy you are.”

“I’m pretty normal, nothing special.”

“You can say that, I can think differently. I guess we can agree to disagree, but since you have been such a good guy I thought I should be honest with you before we go any further.”

Any warm feelings Renard was having quickly erased. For Amy to go out in a power outage and end up at his dark home and then say what she just did meant it was most likely something bad. His mind started to race at what it could be. He sat down and took a sip from his mug. “It must be something major for you to walk over here tonight.”

“I think it is, but it’s up to you in the end. I might as well just say it and get it out there. I kind of already had a boyfriend when we started going out.”

It took Renard a few moments for what Amy had said to hit him fully. “You’ve been cheating on me with someone else?”

Amy looked at him with her big blue eyes, Renard’s stomach fluttered. She finally spoke, “Technically it’s hm I am cheating on with you.”

“You want to argue semantics? I think you are making my mind up for me.” Before he could continue there was another knock at the door. It took him by surprise, not Amy though.

“I may have told him to meet me here.”

Renard looked at her with a form of shock on his face. Her is this woman that he really liked not only saying he was her side piece, but that she had invited her other boyfriend over to HIS house. It was all happening kind fast and it still hadn’t all hit him yet. Amy moved away towards the front door. He heard muffled conversation. Then Amy emerged into the front walkway. “Can we sit in the dining room and talk?

Renard was still stunned, but understood what she wanted to do. Some kind of choosing game. It was kind of stupid in his opinion, using his house was stupider. If she wanted to play games it should have been at her apartment of some neutral site so that he could just leave. But instead it was here at his home. Renard figured that Amy knew hm enough to know how he would react and this made it easier to keep him from running off. He made his way to the dining room, the other two were already sitting.

Amy was on the far side, away from the door. The other guy was sitting on the side that faced the window. Renard sat at the end with his back to the entrance. Him and the other man sat there looking at Amy. Renard had seen him around a few times, mostly at the coffee shop. He was slightly taller and you could tell he liked the gym, even when he wore heavier clothes. It kind of made Renard insecure. He wasn’t a gym rat himself or really out of shape, but compared to the new guy it really didn’t matter.

The awkward silence was so thick that one could have crashed a truck into the room and totalled it. No one was saying anything. The two men kept looking at each other in confusion. The only person that seemed settled was Amy. She finally broke the silence, “ I suppose you both want to know why I wanted you here.”

“You think?” the other an said.

“Where are my manners?” Amy said, “Renard, this is Mike, Mike this is Renard.”

“Renard? What is he French?”

“No,” Renard replied, “My mother liked French literature though, I forget which one she named me after, but who cares. I want to know what the hell is going on here?”

“That makes two of us,” Mie said, now staring at Amy, “First you tell me we need to talk about us, then you say to meet you here and then at the door you say you are seeing someone else behind my back.”

“Those are the basics,” Amy said with a straight face, “It comes down to this Mike, you are a lot of fun. But that is all it is, fun. I don’t get anything from you besides that. When I need emotional support, or a shoulder to cry on you disappear or don’t’ seem to care. Renard does that for me.”

“You know I’m not that kind of guy babes. You knew that from the start. I’m sorry you think that’s worth dumping me over, but it’s not like I lied to you.”

“I never said you did, or that I’m dumping you.”

“Then why ask me over here? To be honest, a call or text saying you were leaving me would have been simpler.”

Renard felt a small twinge of pride. He always had a hard time approaching women, his friends said he was to soft. But here was someone actually picking him over the typical buff bad boy. It was kind of refreshing. A smile started to appear on his face.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Amy told him. She must have seen the smile and read it right. “I’m not saying you are my everything Renard. I get a lot from you, but Mike does provide me with excitement and experiences as well. I know you like to stay in or go to museums, as do I on occasion, but I grew up riding bikes and snowmobiles. You are what I used to call a candy ass, so in the end you don’t give me everything either.”

“Enough of the analysis,” Mike chimed in.

“I think he’s right Amy, just get to the point. Which one of us are you going to chose?” Renard added, Mike nodded in agreement.

“That’s the thing you two. I don’t want to chose one of you. I did say earlier that it was up to you.”

“Why should we? You cheated on both of us. Didn’t you think we’d both just leave you?” Mike responded. Renard was liking this guy more and more. At first he viewed him as an adversary. The longer this was going on though the more the two seemed to agree on the entire situation.

“It’s a risk I am willing to take.”

“Well, then I chose to step away,” Renard said, “I don’t like to be lied to.” This time Mike nodded in agreement with him.

“That’s the thing. I could have carried on easily. Mike works third shift and we really don’t see each other that much. I wanted to be honest with both of you. I didn’t even plan on this happening. I went out with Renard because he was a nice guy, I didn’t realize how I felt until after our second date.”

“Let me guess you love him now and not me?” Mike asked.

“I love both of you.” Silence filled the room. Neither man spoke, they just sat there kind of wide eyed. Amy was quiet as well, she was blushing so much that even the limited light from the candle in the middle of the table was enough for all to see.

Finally Renard broke the silence, “What was your optimal outcome for tonight? I mean what did you want to happen?”

Amy sat for awhile looking like she was thinking. The awkwardness was returning. Then she just blurted out, “I wanted both of you to pick me too.” As soon as the words popped out tears started to form in her eyes. Renard immediately regretted being forceful.

Amy wiped her eyes and forced back the tears. Then she continued, “I’ve watched those Romantic Comedies growing up and they always end with the perfect couple. In real life though there is never a perfect match. How many other people have each of you dated? Weren’t there the ones you left where nothing was actually wrong, but not everything was right?”

Both men were silent but looked like they were thinking. Neither of them answered her questions, but instead had a look of understanding across their faces. The fact was the the answer to both was yes for all three of them. Life rarely handed someone a soulmate. There might actually be one for everyone out there, but the logistics of them coming together seemed to elude most people.

Finally Renard spoke, “You were hoping for some kind of consensual love triangle then?” Amy nodded, still on the verge of tears. “Why are you drying then?”

“Because I had this happy ending in my mind, and when I finally said it out loud in front of you I realized how stupid it sounded.”

“The idea of it isn’t totally stupid,” Mike said. The others looked at him. “I mean the wanting everything from a partner part. I’ve never found anyone that I can honestly say was everything I wanted, so I can relate.”

“But I have what I think I want right here at this table,” Amy added, “I know my idea isn’t normal or even really possible, but if I’m going to lose you both anyway why not try?”

“I guess I am still a little confused as to how this would work? Renard said.

“I guess like it has been,but now everyone knows about each other. Though you two wouldn’t have to have anything to do with the other.”

“And what about us? I mean going off of your logic you might not be everything for us either,” Mike stated.

Amy thought a second, “I never thought about that. I was sure both of you would have left or asked me to by now. I guess it would work the same. If you find someone that you like you can see them while with me, or leave. I mean I’m not expecting us all the get a house and dog together……. yet,” the smile on her face forced the other two to smile as well.

Renard commented next, “I haven’t left yet because you decided to spring this on us in my house. I haven’t asked you to leave yet because I can understand what you are saying. Your solution though I am still thinking about.”

“I get that. You both have heard me out at least. I can’t ask anything more of you.” As soon as she finished the lights flickered as the power came back on. Amy got up from her chair and walked over to the door, she flipped the light on then stood there. “I will ask both of you to think about it a while before letting me know.” With that, she walked to the front door and left, leaving the two men sitting there.

Neither knew how long it was before one of them spoke. It was Mike who broke the silence. “We managed to find a crazy one didn’t we?”

“Do you want a beer?” Renard asked. Mike nodded. He got up and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he had a six pack and handed Mike one. Renard then sat down and the two men talked for a long time. Neither one knew the time when they stopped.

Amy was asleep when she was woken up by her phone ringing. Her clock read past 4am. he answered it with a sleepy “Hello.”

Renard’s voice came through the small speaker and right into her ear, “Mike and I have been talking for a while and we have something to tell you.”

Power Outage

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Power Outage

The candle flickered in the wind as the slight breeze whisked through the window. The night had a severe chill to it and it was uncomfortable for Renard as he sat sipping his hot chocolate. It wasn’t his first drink of choice for the weather, but it had gotten cold quickly and it was the only things that he had in the house at the time, so he just made it. He was actually enjoying it a little too. He wasn’t sure how long it had sat at the top of the cupboard, but it had the little marshmallows in it, that made him smile when he first saw it. Now he was just sitting there.

Normally it wouldn’t have been a problem for him, but the power had gone out as well, thus the candle. Now he was just waiting for them to fix it and to get the furnace started. He was using an electric one. The gas lines didn’t run to where he lived. He had to open the window because the only candle he could find to provide light as the sun set let off some smoke, he wasn’t sure why, but it did. His old camping stove provided a place to make his beverage and to make some dinner, which was just a can of soup he found in the same place as the hot chocolate.

There was food in the fridge and freezer, but nothing that he wanted to try and cook on the little stove. Plus, he didn’t want to open the fridge and risk is thawing out. He had no idea about when the power would be back on, so he decided to play it safe. The one thing he had to be able to do though was to read, and the smoky candle provided him with the light he needed to do so. He thought that he had hit pay dirt when he dug out the old stove, but the flashlight that was with it was dead and he had no extra “D” batteries handy to replace the old ones with. SO here he was wrapped in a blanket by a slightly open window with a smoky candle sipping hot chocolate and reading a book.

It was still an hour or two before he went to bed and he kept checking the website of the power company on his cell phone to see the updates of the power line repair. There was a small storm earlier, but nothing that would have knocked out the power. When he finally got to the site he read that it was an accident caused by the storm. A car had hit the post. That was all it said. He wanted to check the news for more information, but he didn’t want to waste his battery. Right now though he was only concerned with reading the book that he had started a few days ago and getting through the night.

As Renard turned the page to start the next chapter, there was a knock at the door. It took a moment for him to realize that it was his door. He was that absorbed in the story he was reading. Another rap at the entry made it clear it was his. He carefully put the bookmark in the page he was on and set the paperback down. Then he got up and tossed the blanket on the chair he was in. He slowly made his way to the front entrance. It was dark everywhere else in the house and he didn’t want to stub a toe of anything.

The knocking kept coming at regular intervals as he worked towards it. He finally got there and peeked into the small lens that allowed him to see who was on the other side. It was dark outside too and the streetlights were not on, so at best he could only make out a shadow. It was probably just a neighbor who needed something. Renard wasn’t that familiar with many of his neighbors, but he thought himself friendly enough when he did engage with them. He opened the door to expect to see Mrs. Landon from next door, who might have lost one of her small poodles. They were yippy whenever he walked by, but they were small and cute.

It could have been Mr. Kowalchek from across the street, a retired Navy man who always made sure to raise and lower his American flag at sunrise and sunset every day. He was a stickler for that and for as long as Renard had lived here he believed the old man never missed a day doing it. He went on vacation once for a week and had asked Renard to do it. Getting a reputation of being unreliable was a bad thing in the area, besides Mrs. Kowalchek made the best cupcakes. Ever since he had helped with the flag for their vacation she had made him a batch every major holiday. That was a privilege he didn’t want to lose.

He fumbled with the deadbolt, then the lock on the door. He slowly opened it. When he was finally able to see the person on the other side it was an unfamiliar face. “Excuse me,” the still unknown face said, “my car broke down and my phone is dead.”

Renard immediately felt for the person as he recalled a similar situation from a couple of years prior. His eyes started to adapt to the low light and he was able to make out the form of a man. He must have been in his mid-twenties, with long hair. Renard finally broke from his observing and replied to the man on his porch, “I wish I could offer you help, but as I’m sure you have noticed, we have no power in the area.” A sudden wave of apprehension swept over Renard, almost like dread, but not as dark. He ignored it though. “I can offer you some hot chocolate and a dry place to sit for a while. Maybe even a phone call.”

“It sounds like a start, and to be honest a bright turn for what, so far, has been a pretty shitty day.”

Renard stepped aside and motioned for the stranger to come in. He did so. “My name is Renard, what’s yours?”

“Michael is what my mom calls me, but you can call me Mike.”

“Well then Mike, come in and let’s have something to drink.”

The pair made their way, slowly, back to where Renard had been reading. He still had the small camping stove on his table along with the box of what remained of the hot chocolate packets. The water in his kettle was probably lukewarm by now so he turned the burner back on before he sat down. He motioned to a chair across from him for Mike to sit in. “You’re wet, let me get you a towel to sit on. I think I have an old blanket you could use as well to stay warm.”

Mike stopped before sitting, realizing the towel was more to keep the seat dry. “Thank you.”

Renard disappeared for a moment and returned with the previously mentioned items. Mike wiped himself off a bit then tossed the blanket around him before he sat. The kettle made that unique sound that kettles do when the water in them started to boil. Renard had also brought another mug and made the drink for his guest. “Here you go,” he uttered as he handed him the container.

Mike took a sip, “This is good, and I like the marshmallows.”

Renard took his seat. “So, one of those days?”

“Let me tell you.” Mike started between sips, “I was at work and my girlfriend broke up with me via text, that was the start of it.”

“Man that sucks.”

“I know. Anyway, I didn’t get that message until lunch. I leave my phone in my car while I’m working. I was so upset that I forgot to turn it back off. After work I was going to call her, but the battery was dead. So instead I decided to go see her. That’s when my car died up the road. Just not winning today I guess.”

“We all get days like that.” Renard picked up his phone to check it, he still had about 30% battery left. “If you need to call her though you can use mine. I would just ask that you don’t take too long. Not knowing when the power will be back on and all.”

“It’s all good man,” Mike said as he finished his cocoa and set the mug down, “I actually did see her. I think I have it all worked out.”

“So, not a totally bad day then?”

“No, we’re still through, but I have closure. I guess if that’s as good as I can have it though then yeah, maybe it wasn’t such a bad day.”

“Would you like another cup?” Renard asked as he hit his web browser to check the status of repairs.

“I’m good man. Thanks anyway.”

Renard had in fact just asked a woman out the previous day. They had been flirting at the local coffee shop for a while now and he finally got the courage to ask her out. He was still kind of excited but didn’t want to make his guest feel worse about his situation. “So, your girl lives around here then?”

“Yeah, she works at the coffee shop up on 10th street. Her name was Amy.”

Renard paused a moment he was describing the woman he had asked out. What a small world it was indeed. Had she broken up with Mike just, so she could see Renard? She had mentioned that her ex had anger issues but hadn’t really been a problem until recently. She never went into too much detail because their conversations were limited to his ordering time at the counter. He didn’t want to risk that this could be that guy though, so he tried to change the subject. “What do you think went wrong with your car?”

“I don’t know, it just went dead. I’m not a car guy. I mean I know enough to keep one running, but sometimes they just quit on you.”

“That feeling is universal I think. Everybody I know has had it happen to them at least once,” Renard paused as he glanced at his phone again, the site was taking forever to load, “Hell, I just had it happen not more than two summers ago. I was out by the Lake heading home and POOF, it died. Similar to you I had no signal.”

“That sucks man, hey not to bother you more, but could I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it’s down the hall there,” Renard pointed to a darker area, “second door on the right, watch yourself though I have some things stacked by it, there’s no windows so it’s pretty dark.”

“No problem man, and thanks again. When I get back I’ll try to call a wrecker to come get me and my car and get out of your hair.”

“It’s not a big deal man.”

Mike got up and made his way to the hall. Renard looked at his phone again and saw that the repairs were almost done. He scrolled down, now there was a link to an article about the accident. He clicked it. If the power was coming back soon why not kill some time?

The accident wasn’t an accident. A car had forced another off the road and the second one had hit a power line. The driver of the second car was killed, but not by the accident. The article didn’t go into detail. It went on. The driver of the first vehicle had fled on foot. When police arrived they searched the local homes and found nothing. That was what delayed the power company from getting it fixed.

As he read on the name of the second driver was listed, Amy Hutchinson. Renard paused. His heart began racing and his thought started to jumble together. Amy was dead? What happened? He slowly started to try and make sense of things. Had Mike lied to him? Was he even involved? Renard was tempted to just call the police and leave his home. It was the safest thing to do. He decided against it though, he was livid at the thought of having the killer of someone he cared for in his home.

Instead he walked over to where Mike had been sitting and reached into the box that had all his camping items in it and pulled out an old survival knife. Its old purpose had been to clean fish, carve wood, or any other task one would need it for on a trip to the woods. Now though, it would be his tool of defense and possibly vengeance. No one would challenge him if he had to stab Mike. He would just say that an alleged murderer had come into his home and tried to kill him too. So, worrying about the legal repercussions was covered in his mind.

All he had to do now was wait. For all he knew it was just a coincidence. He didn’t know for sure if Mike had anything to do with it. So far, he had been nothing but pleasant, just a guy down on his luck. His inner voice was still screaming to just get up and leave. He ignored it, this was his house, no one was going to make him leave it. His next thought was to go upstairs and get the gun that was once his father’s, but he decided against that too. It was dark, and he wasn’t even sure exactly where it was. By the time he found it and the ammo it would be morning and he wasn’t sure if it would fire.

Mike had been gone a while now, or at least it seemed that way. Renard was half tempted to get up and go see what he was doing, but if he was a killer he wanted to wait so he could dictate the setting. While he waited he kept reloading the article to see if they would name who they suspected. He wasn’t 100% sure it was Mike, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Or was he just being paranoid? His battery was now at 15%. It was one of those phones that seemed to drain faster the lower it got. It might have also been just his constant refreshing, he didn’t care at this point.

Finally, he heard a noise come from the hall. Renard was worked up enough to just decide to act. He stood up. He saw nothing. Then he heard the front door open. He dropped his blanket and headed to it. Before he got there it closed. It seemed as though he was right, and Mike was guilty, why else would he be leaving?. He got to the door and swung it open. He went outside, there was still a light drizzle but nothing serious. His cell phone in one hand, his knife in the other.

He saw Mike casually strolling down his driveway.

“Stop!”

Mike paused and turned around. “What exactly do you want me to stop for?”

“You killed Amy, you Bastard.”

“Did I?” The smile on his face as he said made Renard seethe with anger.

“I know you did.”

“I think you have the wrong guy there Renardo. I mean she was run off the road and then stabbed.”

“How would you even know that if you didn’t do it?” Renard asked as he made his way down the steps.

“I don’t know that, but I know two other things. You don’t have a car in the driveway and you’re holding a bloody knife.”

Renard was confused by the statement. He looked over and say that in fact his car was gone. It was there earlier, but now it was gone. But who would have? Then it dawned on him. He looked down at his phone, the description of the car in the accident fit his. He looked at Mike, “You stole my car?”

“Not really, you leave the front door to your house open, so I just helped myself to certain things.”

Renard looked down at the knife he was holding at the same time the power came back on and his outside lights lit up the yard. The knife was covered in blood. Not the old blood of filleted fish, but fresh, some of it still coagulating. When he grabbed it from the box it was by the handle. His thoughts were on Mike not the knife, he didn’t notice much of anything after he decided to act.

He dropped it from the sheer horror of the implications. By the time he looked back up Mike had disappeared down the street. Did he come here just to plant evidence? It didn’t matter, Renard knew he was neck deep in shit now. He ran back into his house.

He was going to make the son of a bitch pay. Up the stairs he went, and he started tossing things aside in the spare room. He finally found the gun. A box or two later he found the ammo. He quickly checked the handgun. It seemed okay, he loaded a magazine and then put some oil in it just to get it smooth. Then he rushed downstairs, he wasn’t sure how long it had been since he went to get the firearm, but he was sure he could catch up to Mike and make him pay.

The thing was he was so obsessed with it that he didn’t hear the sirens as they approached his house. When he ran out of his front door holding the gun and the cell phone everything took him by surprise. The cops were shouting for him to drop the weapon. It was all overwhelming. He went to look at his cell phone, he had to call someone for help. As soon as he raised a hand though the shots started.

Renard fell to the ground as he was hit. His cell phone bounced down the three steps that led from his yard to the porch. It landed perfectly so when he finished falling he could see the little screen that was just slightly tilted as it landed on a rock. The article he had been looking on had just updated. His picture was displayed at the top. As Renard’s eyes closed for the last time, he saw his phone go blank as the battery died.

He was always bad about charging it.

Piles and Piles of Cash

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Some of the stuff I have tossed up and some upcoming posts are works that I have written during the course of my pursuing a(nother) degree.  This one in writing.  I have a plan for all of these little excursions into short form, to put them together in a collection.  Like a book of prose for those that want less of me, or smaller doses when they are having trouble sleeping without having to absorb an entire books worth.

To this end I was going to cram all of these things and those to come, I have a Semester left, into said collection.  I was going to also out notes with each to explain how they came to be.  Not the original in some regards, but the rewrites or how the version you read, whatever I will just wing it.  A lot of times people read things and want to know the story behind it, or not, in which case I am doing it for filler.

For additional fun  I have also had dozens of writing exercises during classes that were never fully fleshed out.  I will revisit those and add them in if I need to hit my page mark.  Both because it would be fun to go back and see what I can do with the remnants of fast writing and to see if they can become more than just a toss away idea.  What can i say, I love a challenge.

This is also the only way I see myself delving more into non-fiction as well.  Yes I do have a memoir and a second one started, but those are not short pieces on specific subjects.   I am mot likely to write a lot of these from here on out, so this is a chance to do that.  Not that I am against essays and non-fic, but I prefer fiction more.  So why not mix it up?

One reason I want to include notes is that I was always fascinated by process and outlining mine in certain instances seems to be a place where I can help others understand the work more fully.

For more fun I am going to toss out some ideas for a title, comment on which you like or add some.

  1. Musings and Mutterings from a Hack Writer
  2. Short and to the Point: Things to put you sleep
  3. Ravings of A Lunatic: A Collection of the Asinine
  4. Three Cows and a Stick of Butter: Randoms Tales of Stuff
  5. Journey Down the Rabbit Hole: Short Stories, Essays, and how they came to be.

That is a few just off the top of my head.