Archive | June, 2013

Chapter Fourteen: Amythest

29 Jun
BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading  TheMapThinker.com

Thank you for reading, liking, and subscribing to my novel. It makes us feel good to know people besides ourselves are enjoying what we are doing.

L C felt she did not visit her mother often enough, and she always seemed to need an excuse to visit. This was an excuse, though she was not sure she wanted to hear the answer. Her mother’s house was always neat, tidy, and everything perfectly in its place, as though her mother had stepped out of an old TV show made in the fifty’s or sixty’s. L C was sure her mother had obsessive compulsive cleaning disorder. Nothing was ever out of place. Except for L C herself. She had always felt out of place in her mother’s house, even as a young child, and she still felt out of place.

Today she was here, sitting in her mother’s kitchen looking at the petite woman she called “Mom.”

L C’s mother was a “brisk” woman, “curt” if you wanted to be a little more accurate and a little less flattering. As a child she had heard one of her aunt’s refer to her mother as a “sharp tongued old hag,” and quickly decided it was not a loving remark.

Mrs. Amethyst Grainger, once Davenport, nee Reardon, was born to a pair of long haired hippies from the ’60s. They in turn had been born rich and full of privilege, but somewhere in the middle of college they gave up their social standing for long haired ideals of love and brotherhood.

They had seven children, one died.  They had five girls in a row. Amethyst, Sapphire, Emerald, Ruby, and Topaz. Their father called them “Daddies little gems.” When they were expecting a sixth she was to be named Pearl. Pearl never happened. Paul did. L C would have expected her grandparents to name him Garnet, a good solid man’s name in keeping with jewelry but perhaps they were just surprised and gave him the first name they could think of that sounded like Pearl. In any case Paul seemed quite happy being Paul.

Amethyst somehow managed escape any of the concepts her parents had tried to bestow on her. Loving kindness towards all stood no chance against her ability to get to the point with no preamble. The worst part was she was almost always right. She had a habit of sticking a stiletto into the heart of the truth. A very unhippy like thing to do.

“What do you think?” L C asked, telling her mother the story.

“Phfoot. Its obvious. He is in love with you. He wants to marry you and he doesn’t want one of his employees competing with him. He would be a good catch for you, especially seen as you do not want to go to college.”

“Mother, lets not get off the subject. I do too want to go to college and you know it.” She realized once again she had fallen into a verbal trap. She should not have added the last sentence because now she was off the subject.

“Then let your stepfather pay for it. He can certainly afford it. Actually your father could too but he would rather spend his money on any woman other than his own. Anyway your stepfather has said over and over that you can stay here and attend the local college.”

“And hear about it every damn day how good he is being to me and how much more I owe to him than my real father. No I won’t do it. Your husband may not be an asshole but he is an ass. I want nothing from him.”

“All he wants is a little gratitude for what he does. Why is that such a bad thing?”

“If he wants me to be grateful then do it and forget it. If he wants something specific for doing it then write me a contract so I know what it is I owe. What he wants is to do it and then take it out in emotional bullshit later. Forget it.”

“How did I ever raise such a hard-headed woman? He is a man, it is as simple as that. He is willing to do things for you for whatever reason. That makes him a better man.”

“What about Raymond? Is he a better man too? He fired Trevor for talking to me and bullied the rest of his workers into avoiding me. That is what we both think he did, isn’t it?” She paused realizing she had always known this…She had simply wanted her mother to say it first. It wasn’t the answer she wanted so she made her mother say it first so she wouldn’t have too. “Isn’t it?” she repeated softly.

“Honey, a man who isn’t aggressive isn’t worth having. He’s just proven to you he knows what he wants and is willing to do what it takes to get it.”

“Me.”

“You should feel special.”

“I feel like I got a good man fired by an asshole for no reason at all.”

“You can’t go through life worrying about the consequences of every thing you do. When the light says “go” you go. You can’t sit at the crossroads forever for fear some idiot’s going to run through it and broadside you. Pretty soon the people in back of you are going to get fed up and push you out of the way.”

“I’m not sure I like that picture.”

Somewhere in the middle of all of this L C realized she had forgotten to mention to her mother she was no longer dating Raymond. She was now engaged to Nathaniel Norman.

She decided now would not be the best time to mention it. Not unless she wanted the rest of her visit to be a row of contention. One that would get her sanctimonious stepfather involved. So far he had managed to stay in the front room while she and her mother remained in the kitchen.

She wanted it to stay that way.

 

 

(c) 2013 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Thirteen: The Dog

22 Jun
BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading  TheMapThinker.com

BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading TheMapThinker.com

 

 

Cats are strange and spooky creatures. I never liked cats. Now. I hate them. They are perverse. Maybe some of those stories about them are true. The neighborhood was filled with them. Until the day I decided to kill one. Then none could be found. As though they had read my intent and sought to thwart me. As though they had some cat psychic hotline telling each other, “A killer is after us. Hide. Pass it on.”

I finally got one though. A different neighborhood where the feline hotline had not forecast a warning. A tabby. The deft use of a bit of string, a piece of meat tied to the end. It was like cat fishing.

But when I had it in the room with me at my mercy I couldn’t figure out what to do with it. I tried to bash it in the head with a sledge-hammer. It just scooted to the side and purred at me.

There I was standing there staring at the hole I had put in the floor while this stupid cat struts around the room with its tail held at max height in the air purring as though it had somehow pulled off a wonderful trick I should applaud it for.

I tried to tie it up. You can’t tie a cat up. They are too limber. I tried wrapping it in blankets, the way I am told vets advise people to do who are trying to give their cats medicine.

Every time it would manage to get loose.

So I let it go.

The damn thing wouldn’t leave. Finally I left the door open and chased it out by screaming at it.

Getting it outside was only a partial victory. The stupid creature thought it had found a home. It stayed close to the house and every time I opened a door or a window it would try to come inside.

Purring. Always purring. Why do cats have to purr?

I need a gun. Shoot the damn thing.

How do you get a gun?

To be orderly I made a list. Who has guns? Police have guns. People who belong to gun clubs. Drug dealers. Gun stores. People who go out to gun ranges.

How do you part the gun owner from the gun?

Hit them over the head with something when they aren’t looking. Burglarize their house. Sedate them with a drug or with chloroform. Stun them with a taser.

None of those ideas sounded like really great ideas.

I decided to forget the cat. The one that followed me around purring at my heels like a lunatic.

I’ll go find a dog instead.

 

Chapter Twelve: The Safehouse

14 Jun
BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading  TheMapThinker.com

If you read Aristotle and think A = A maybe you would like to see what my dad did with it. TheMapThinker.com

When Lonnie needed money Lonnie stole a car. He knew where he could dump it for some fast cash. He could have earned a lot of money stealing one or two a day if he’d wanted to. Johnny, the owner of the shop wanted him too, kept encouraging him. Lonnie knew if he did the cops would get all in a snit and start laying for him. As it was he didn’t steal one often enough to be a major problem and nobody paid a lot of attention to his activities. It was Cody taught him that. “You get real heavy into something, people gonna notice. Cops gonna come looking. You gotta keep it down under the radar. Stay invisible.” This wasn’t a time to attract attention to oneself either. Lot of weird stuff going on. Somebody went into the animal shelter and stole vaccines. Lonnie wished he’d’ve thought of that. He wouldn’t’ve stolen vaccines for crumpled sakes. He would have stolen the tranquilizers. What kind of a high would you get off of those? You’d have ta try it anyway. If you had access. Then there was the drug dealer whose car they found by the river. So far nobody found a body, no signs of foul play. Just a car by a river with some drugs in the trunk. The owner was wanted for questioning. As he went through a stoplight he happened to look over to his right. A guy in a black suit sitting in a fancy car was parked tight to the curb. The car was one of those long black ones that looked like a wannabe limousine that didn’t quite make it. Cody was getting in the car with him. Drug deal? Not likely. More likely it was Cody’s handler. The CIA guy he kept working for. Lonnie’s heart raced. To trail a real CIA agent. Man that would be the max. That would take the bogie. Lonnie could show he had mock too. Lonnie had found a bag of weed in the glove box. He was glad of that. He could use a smoke to mellow him out right now. Normally he never brought any shit with him when he boosted a car. Cody taught him that. “Never mix your crimes. Anytime you doing a crime make sure drugs got no parta it. Otherwise they latch onto you. They will think they are pit bulls and you a hamburger. They won’t let go. If no drugs are involved you can slide under the cracks easier.” Cody knew. Cody slid. All the time. But today, after forever, Lonnie was one up on Cody. He was following Cody and his CIA handler. Lonnie pulled the baggie and papers out of the glove box. He was glad it was there. He felt loving and tender toward the person who owned the car. He really needed something to calm him down. He was so nervous he could barely roll a joint. Yeah, the owner of this car was one sweet person. Almost made him want to do something nice for them. But not return the car back where he got it, of course. That would be asking too much. It was getting harder to stay out of sight while tailing them. They were leaving town. Lonnie remembered Cody talking about a safe house somewhere out here. He’d bet that was where they were going.

© 2013 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Eleven: The Cat

7 Jun
BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading  TheMapThinker.com

BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading TheMapThinker.com

Killing bugs becomes boring. At first it was exciting. At first it was a challenge. Overcoming fear. Then the night mares. The nightmares.

Dreams that bugs flushed down drains during the day would come swarming up out of them at night, looking for the person who tried to drown them. Looking for revenge. Dreams that spiders squished between the holes in fly swatters reassembled themselves, slowly, carefully, and came looking, looking for ME!

Dreams that thousands of bugs would congeal together in a huge mass, sometimes human form, sometimes the form of some grizzly monster that could never exist, huge hulking masses of insects, with one purpose in mind – To destroy me.

Those nights that I dreamed they covered me and devoured me; those were the nights I woke up screaming.

Each day I had to overcome my fear anew. Each day I had to force myself to kill and kill again. Until I slew armies of insects. Nations of insects.

Every night they got their revenge on me.

Every day I got my revenge on them.

Until one night.

I dreamed they covered the house and came pouring through every orifice they could find. The tiniest cracks that could exist. They flooded like a massive flood of brown bodies.

But instead of waking up screaming I reached under the covers and from nowhere I produced a flame thrower. And it was already on and afire with death and destruction for all things with six or more legs. I burned down the room, the house, and every bug, insect, spider, and creepy crawly within a block.

That night I woke up laughing.

From then on I killed bugs all day and I killed bugs all night. Until I became bored with killing bugs.

Now what? Something with more meat. An animal. A dog or a cat. How do you kill a dog or a cat? Do you poison it? Strangle it? Shoot it. Drown it?

Stupid problems. You would think someone plotting murder would be more forceful, would be more straight forward and daring. More in control. What was the term? A cold blooded killer. Someone who planned to kill someone without passion, the same way they would plan to go on a vacation. As adverse to a hot blooded killer who killed during the heat of passion. Where did I fit in there? The kid who is afraid to stick its hand in the cookie jar?

I don’t want to start shooting things yet. But I need a gun. Sooner or later I will need to shoot something. Someone. Yes. I need a gun. A gun that is not registered to me. A gun that cannot be traced to me.

How do I do that?

Can’t buy it from anyone. If you buy a gun, it doesn’t matter who you buy it from, then someone somewhere knows you have that gun. Nope. Can’t buy one.

If you steal a gun it would almost have to be from someone you knew. You would have to know them at least well enough to know they owned a gun. Then there would be a connection between you and the gun.

There can be no connection.

In the mean time I guess I will go kill a cat.

 

 

© 2013 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Ten: Trevor

1 Jun
BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading  TheMapThinker.com

BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading TheMapThinker.com

Now. Last weekend. Nathaniel had popped the question. She could not believe she was already engaged to be married to a man she was sure was her dream come true. He was good-looking, confident, gracious, steeped in social skills and was content with L C Just as she was. Not to mention financially he was well off with a promising future. They would have their own children.

L C had been cruising by the vegetables looking at cucumbers and chives when Trevor came smiling around the corner. He had the look of a man who was either once very skinny and just starting to put on weight, or who was once heavy and was just about to become thin.

His grin was the quietly self-assured grin of a man who never met anyone who wasn’t his instant friend. It was easy to tell why. Other men would have chosen this opportunity to make sexually loaded comments about the cucumber she was holding. How that would be received would depend on the woman and her mood.

Trevor did not. Instead he picked up a gourd with an outrageously crooked neck and started telling her all the things she could do with it once she was the proud owner. Using his apron with the store emblem proudly emblazoned on it he showed her how it would make a great-coat rack. Hanging it from his thumb he showed her what an excellent bird house it would make. Grasping its crook and swinging it jauntily he demonstrated bashing in the heads of unwanted intruders. And if she felt inclined to want to keep this precious gem with her she could make a hole in the bottom and wear it for a hat. He did a small pirouette with it sitting on top of his head.

Not to mention when she had finished it would make a great edible and was easily cooked to taste.

She was having the greatest fun when she looked up and saw Raymond staring at them. He was down near the far end of the store, near the liquor aisle. At first she thought something must be terribly wrong.

Quickly she excused herself from Trevor. When she turned back Raymond was nowhere to be found. He was no longer in the store.

Later when she had called him on the phone Raymond said nothing was wrong, he was just tired and would she go out with him come Friday. She begged off saying this weekend the Langlins had planned a trip to the zoo and she was expected to escort Guinevere.

“When you marry me, L C You won’t have to work. I won’t allow it.”

“I like to work. I like being a nanny.”

“Taking care of our children will be a full-time job.”

Suddenly L C knew she could not, and would never, marry Raymond. Now she was angry with herself for not having told Raymond right away she was interested in someone else. Yet she could not figure out how to tell him now.

The next time she went in Stanhouser’s Market everyone was polite to her. No one was friendly. The men called her “Ma’am” When she asked about Trevor she was told “He doesn’t work here any more.” and nothing else.

When she asked Raymond he answered with a question, “Why would you concern yourself about him?”

 

 

© 2013 All Rights Reserved

ultimatemindsettoday

A great WordPress.com site

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

War By Other Means

Politics & Philosophy

this is... The Neighborhood

the Story within the Story

stillness of heart

MUSINGS : CRITICISM : HISTORY : PASSION

The Guilty Preacher Man

abandoned illustrations

matchtall

A tall women amazon model WordPress.com sit

Three Wise Guys

Best not to think about it

Mister G Kids

A daily comic about real stuff little kids say in school. By Matt Gajdoš

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

The Judy-Jodie and Kelli Memorial Blog

A great WordPress.com site

A Financial Life Coach

Your Financial Life Coach

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Dysfunctional Literacy

Just because you CAN read Moby Dick doesn't mean you should.

Top 10 of Anything and Everything - The Fun Top Ten Blog

Animals, Gift Ideas, Travel, Books, Recycling Ideas and Many, Many More

ajrogersphilosophy

A fine WordPress.com site

Thoughts

What ever I'm thinking

ultimatemindsettoday

A great WordPress.com site

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

War By Other Means

Politics & Philosophy

this is... The Neighborhood

the Story within the Story

stillness of heart

MUSINGS : CRITICISM : HISTORY : PASSION

The Guilty Preacher Man

abandoned illustrations

matchtall

A tall women amazon model WordPress.com sit

Three Wise Guys

Best not to think about it

Mister G Kids

A daily comic about real stuff little kids say in school. By Matt Gajdoš

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

The Judy-Jodie and Kelli Memorial Blog

A great WordPress.com site

A Financial Life Coach

Your Financial Life Coach

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Dysfunctional Literacy

Just because you CAN read Moby Dick doesn't mean you should.

Top 10 of Anything and Everything - The Fun Top Ten Blog

Animals, Gift Ideas, Travel, Books, Recycling Ideas and Many, Many More

ajrogersphilosophy

A fine WordPress.com site

Thoughts

What ever I'm thinking

%d bloggers like this: