Thursday, September 27, 2018

Don Travis: MUDDY TOES (Part 1 of 2 Parts)

Don Travis: MUDDY TOES (Part 1 of 2 Parts): dontravis.com blog post #304     Courtesy of Pixabay A change of pace this week. An action piece. Sorry if it runs a little long...

MUDDY TOES (Part 1 of 2 Parts)


dontravis.com blog post #304
  
Courtesy of Pixabay
A change of pace this week. An action piece. Sorry if it runs a little long.

*****
MUDDY TOES

          Samantha sat in the grass joyfully wiggling her toes in the mud puddle beneath a leaky water spigot. She giggled, anticipating the mock horror her mother would display when she squealed, “Sammy, you’re not a three-year-old girl, you’re a three-year-old piggy!”
          “Four,” Sammy always replied, holding up her fingers with a pudgy thumb folded into her palm.”
          Her mother would laugh. “Not yet, but soon.” Then she would set Sammy on the counter beside the sink and immerse her feet in warm soapy water where the black mud always magically floated away, leaving her toes clean and pink. Then her mommy always tugged on each one, saying, Piggy, piggy, piggy.
          Now as she splashed her feet in the muddy puddle, a shadow fell over her. She twisted around, expecting to see her mother standing there with hands on hips. Instead, it was someone else. Frightened, Samantha scrambled to her feet and raced for the house.
          She made it to the front porch.


          Detective Sandra Winston stared at the small, muddy puddle beneath a water spout in the foundation of the red brick ranch style house. While her partner questioned Rick and Mary Harcaster, the child’s frantic parents, inside, Sandy wanted to inspect the scene of the crime… if that’s what it was. She could easily imagine the girl sitting in the grass where her small bottom made a slight impression in the grass. Petite brown leather sandals sat neatly side-by-side nearby. Marks from the child’s bare heels were clearly visible near the side of the puddle. She could almost hear Samantha’s happy, musical laughter as she gleefully enjoyed a “no-no.”
          Sandy saw where the child had stood, her wet feet slipping just a little in the grass before she bolted for safety. Tiny muddy footprints indicated she made it to the front porch. Then the prints stopped. Stopped where the girl was snatched.
          “Will there be a ransom demand, do you think?” Detective Tom Bales asked as he came out of the house. Tom had been Sandy’s partner for the past year.
          “Father’s a lawyer. Good house in a good neighborhood. And everybody thinks lawyers are rich. Good chance.”
          “Let’s hope so,” he said with feeling.
          After the crime scene unit arrived and chased them out of the front yard, they canvassed the neighbors who confirmed that Sammy’s mother was neither careless nor negligent. She checked on her child regularly when Samantha played in their gated front yard. One elderly man had noticed a black car pulling away from the curb near the Harcaster house. A phone call confirmed the father had been at work in his law firm downtown.
          That task completed, they returned to the house to console the frightened family. A technician was in the kitchen rigging the house phone so that they could listen to and record any incoming calls… just in case. Another took fingerprints from the parents for elimination purposes.
          Eventually, the other officers completed their tasks and departed, including the crime scene unit. Sandy and Tom remained behind to control the situation in case a ransom call was received. The phone rang twice, almost sending Sammy’s mother into a panic, but both were routine calls from family and friends.
          As the day stretched on, the Harcasters became more difficult to bolster. Mary took to her bed with a headache. Rick tried to do business from the den phone’s second line, but he soon gave that up to sit and stare at the telephone.
          Midafternoon, the crime scene commander called Sandy on her cell phone. They’d found numerous prints or partial prints on the front gate, most of which were probably friends and neighbors. But one traced back to someone with a record. Sandy wrote down the information carefully before facing the others in the den, including Mary Harcaster who came out of the bedroom as if summoned by the chime of Sandy’s cell phone.
          She stared at the expectant faces before her. “Do either of you know a William B. Robbins? Is he a client of yours, Mr. Harcaster?”
          The lawyer’s mouth dropped open and his wife let out a shriek, clutching at a chair back to keep from collapsing.
          “That’s my ex-husband!” she wailed. “But… but he’s in prison.”
          “Apparently not. They found his prints on your gate.”
          “He escaped?” Harcaster asked.
          “He’s been released.”
          “That can't be! The prosecutor promised they’d notify us before he was released,” Mary said.
          “Then somebody dropped the ball. He was paroled six weeks ago. At least, he was sent to a halfway house on the west side of town.”
          “Oh, my God! My little girl,” the mother wailed.
          Sandy drew a deep breath. “Mrs. Harcaster, I have to ask a delicate question. Is Samantha William Robbins’ daughter?”
          She gasped aloud. “Good Lord, no! B-but he thinks he is.”
          “Explain, please,” Tom said.
          Mary made an obvious effort to steady herself. “I met Bill at a Ted talk. He seemed nice. You know, ambitious. Motivated. I got swept up in the public persona of Bill Robbins before I learned who the real Bill Robbins was. We were married less than a year before he was arrested by the FBI for bank fraud. I was pregnant at the time, but I had a miscarriage during his trial.”
          Rick took up the tale. “I knew Mary from way back. During the long period from Bill’s arrest to trial, I helped keep up her morale.”
          “Were you William Robbins’ attorney?” Tom asked.
          “Absolutely not! I was just a family friend. Anyway, Mary and I grew close. When we learned Mary was pregnant again, she divorced Bill and married me. Whether it’s a case of self-delusion or not, he insisted that Samantha is his child. The letters from the prison where he was incarcerated got wilder.”
          “Threatening?” Sandy asked.
          “Not exactly, but he claimed he had a right to see his child. To be in her life. He wanted Mary to bring her for a visit. She rejected his request, and the letters grew stronger. That’s when the prosecutor promised to notify us in advance of any change in Bill’s status.”

Continued next week.

*****
Does a crazed ex-con have little Sammy? Will he harm her or ask for a ransom? Next week will tell.

Please get a copy of my latest book, The Lovely Pines, and give me feedback on the novel. If you do read the book, please post a review on Amazon. Each one helps.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it.

If you would like to drop me a line, my personal links follow:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Here are some buy links to the Lovely Pines, which (as noted) was released on August 28:



Abaddon’s Locusts is scheduled for release on January 22, 2019, and The Voxlightner Scandal is coming along.

See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.


Thursday, September 20, 2018

Don Travis: PIQUANT

Don Travis: PIQUANT: dontravis.com blog post #303     Courtesy of PxHere Free Prints “Larry and Laura” is popular according to page hits, but not many ...

PIQUANT


dontravis.com blog post #303
  
Courtesy of PxHere Free Prints
“Larry and Laura” is popular according to page hits, but not many of you contacted me with comments. Let’s try another short one this week.

*****
PIQUANT
          Sometimes vocabulary—you know, words—can get you into trouble.
          Let me tell you what I mean. My name is Wylie, and I’m about as different from the other kids in my class as my name is from Robert or John. I guess you could say, I’m confused. Sometimes I see Helen Hagen practicing with the other cheerleaders and I get all steamy from looking at her curves and long blonde hair. You know, feeling weird down there and ashamed someone will see and hoping she does. Okay, that’s the way it’s supposed to be, so what’s the problem?
          The problem is Robby Belson, who’s the team quarterback and as pretty as Helen is… except in a different way. And he’s as curvy as she is, too… but still in a different sort of way. But my insides treat them the same. I get syrupy and weak-kneed and stutter and embarrassed around either one of them.
          I’m not on the team, but I run the snack bar at the school’s field, so I’m around both the team and the cheerleaders a lot. Worse, I have classes with the two of them. And to top things off, I do better in the classes than either one. Especially, in the English class. That’s where I got in trouble.
           Miss Hardesty was talking to us about vocabulary. How everyone needs a better one. How to build one. As usual, she picked on me to make her point.
          “Wylie, describe Helen in one word.”
          “Beautiful.” I’m sure I blushed a little, but she merely smiled.
          “Come now, you can do better than that. You have a great vocabulary. Use it.”
          “Lovely, alluring, glamorous.” My mouth got started and wouldn’t stop. “Exquisite, radiant—”
          “Excellent,” she interrupted. “Now describe Robby in one word.”
          “Piquant,” I blurted without thinking.
          Someone from the back of the room spoke into the sudden hush. “Doesn’t that mean hot and spicy?”
          Ears flaming, cheeks scarlet, I nodded my head. “Y-yes.”
          Thank goodness, Miss Hardesty moved on to others to make her points. I sat for the rest of the class with my head down, not daring to look at anyone.
          I walked home alone feeling as low as a wad of gum on a shoe sole. Everyone stared at my back as I passed by, or at least I was convinced of that.
          I followed my usual pattern of grabbing a glass of milk and a cookie to settle down at the kitchen table to do my homework. I always finished it before my folks got home. Dad was a carpenter and mom worked at a day care center.
          Finished with my lessons, I was considering splurging on another cookie when the phone rang. My spirits soared through the roof on hearing the voice on the other end.
          “Wanna go for a Coke?”

*****
Okay, so who do you think called? Helen? Robby? Miss Hardesty? Your imagination can fill in the answer… and take you down the road a bit farther.

My latest book, The Lovely Pines, is now out. Please get a copy and give me feedback on the novel. Some Amazon reviews would also help.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it.

If you would like to drop me a line, my personal links follow:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Here are some buy links to the Lovely Pines:



Abaddon’s Locusts is scheduled for release on January 22, 2019, and The Voxlightner Scandal is coming along.

See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.


Thursday, September 13, 2018

Don Travis: ZYNDI ZUE

Don Travis: ZYNDI ZUE: dontravis.com blog post #302 Once again, funny. “Larry and Laura” got a ton of page views… very few comments. Go figure. Here’s...

ZYNDI ZUE


dontravis.com blog post #302

Once again, funny. “Larry and Laura” got a ton of page views… very few comments. Go figure.

Here’s some more nonsense for this week.

*****
ZYNDI ZUE

          Prissy Pullman eyed her best friend across the malt shop’s checkered tablecloth, disbelief clouding her eyes. “You can’t do this!”
          “Already did,” said Cynthia Sue Breedwell, teasing her recently dyed red, orange, and blue hair through long fingers tipped with ebony nails. “Also got a nose piercing, and put three earbobs in each lobe yesterday. The tats will come later. By the way, call me Zyndi Zue from now on.”
          Prissy eyed her friend’s hair critically. “Red and orange?”
          “And Blue.”
           “Ugh.!
           “You’ll get used to it. I already have.”
           “That’s because you don’t look in the mirror all day while I have to watch you for hours.”
          Zyndi Zue regarded her through magenta accented eyes. “You don’t have to, you know.”
          Prissy’s’ gasp drew the attention of half a dozen staring spectators. “Cynthia! I—”
          “Zyndi. If you want to remain my friend, I’m Zyndi Zue.”
          Prissy pulled a frown. “Do I have to?”
          “You hafta. That’s how I’ll tell friends from foes.”
          “You don’t have any foes.”
          “Not before I dyed my hair. Now we’ll see.”
          Prissy couldn’t argue with that, so she returned to wailing. “But you’ll never get any boyfriends. Not looking like that.”
           Zyndi shrugged. “Who needs ‘em?”
           “You do. I do. We all do.”
          “That’s what they want us to think. Besides, they’ll come.”
          Prissy’s nose caught a sharp odor. “Ugh, what’s that smell?”
          “Brut.”
          “Brut? That’s a man’s aftershave. It… it smells okay on them, but on you? Why are you doing this?”
          “I’m resigning from the world and telling it to go screw itself.”
          “What do your folks think?”
          “I’ll tell you when my mother stops fainting every time she sees me.”
          “What about Frank?”
           Frank had been Cynthia’s boyfriend since forever. Prissy always believed nothing could ever come between them. But blue and red and orange hair might just do it.
          Zyndi waved dismissively. “Who cares? He’s history, anyway.”
          “No! When?”
          “Last week. He thought we ought to broaden our horizons, live life a little.” Zyndi Zue framed her face with both hands. “So I took him at his word.”
           Prissy compressed her lips for a moment before speaking. “I’m not sure he meant this.”
           “Who cares what he meant. He doesn’t fit the new me, anyway.”
           Despite herself, Prissy blurted: “Who does?”
           “Maybe nobody, but who cares?”
           Prissy returned to what was important to her. “Have you thought this through, Cynthia… uh, Zyndi? There isn’t a boy in our whole school who’ll have anything to do with a girl who walks around lit up like a neon.”
           Zyndi fluttered lashes heavy with mascara. “This is a big town. There are other boys besides the duds in our school.”
          “But how will you meet them?”
           Zyndi shrugged her as yet untattooed shoulders. “Who knows, but it can’t be that hard.”
          “I’m not sure—”
          A deep masculine voice interrupted Prissy. “Well, hellooo, mama!”
          They looked up to see a well-shaped young man with spiked pink hair and a ring in his nose. Black and green ink snaked up his tanned arms and disappeared beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt.
          “I’ve not seen you before?” he continued, staring at Zyndi.
          “I’ve not been before,” she countered. “Not until yesterday.”
          “I’m Zhak. You need orienting?”
          “Big time.”
          Zhak held out a hand. Zyndi took it, stood, and fluttered the fingers of her unencumbered hand at her friend. “See you later.”
          Prissy sat with her mouth hanging open as the two disappeared through the malt shop door. At length, she shook her head and blinked.
          Wonder how I'd look in cherry and gold?

*****
Did you see anyone you recognized? Your younger self, perhaps?

Don’t forget that The Lovely Pines is now out. Please get a copy of the book and give me feedback.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it.

If you would like to drop me a line, my personal links follow:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Here are some buy links to the Lovely Pines, which (as noted) was released on August 28:



Abaddon’s Locusts is scheduled for release on January 22, 2019. I’m  hard at work on the first draft of The Voxlightner Scandal.

See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.


Thursday, September 6, 2018

Don Travis: LARRY AND LAURA

Don Travis: LARRY AND LAURA: dontravis.com blog post #301     Courtesy of Pixabay.com Funny how things go. Sometimes I get a lot of page views and a few comm...

LARRY AND LAURA


dontravis.com blog post #301
  
Courtesy of Pixabay.com
Funny how things go. Sometimes I get a lot of page views and a few comments or a few views and lots of comments. “Walls” prompted a number of both.

Here’s some more short fiction for this week.

*****
LARRY AND LAURA


          Larry hooked one thumb in his brown leather belt and pushed chestnut locks off his forehead with the other. “Funny about love. You ever notice that? Sometimes you gotta plant a seed and water it and hope it grows. That’s the way it was with Luther and Dahlia.”
          Laura thought of the wedding they’d attended an hour or so ago before wandering down the hill for a little solitude. “Shoot, anybody who knew that couple coulda told you how it was with them two years back.” Laura wished he’d notice her new frock.
          “Yeah, but they didn’t face up to it. Not ‘til Luther finally got it in his head that’s the way it was.”
          “Wasn’t all his decision. She had to figure out her end, too.”
          He studied the water oak towering above them. “Nice shade on a hot summer day like this.” He sighed and answered her “Still, nothing happened ‘til he decided the way it was.”
          She cast a blue eye at him. “Just because she got there before he did, doesn’t mean he was the lead ox,” silently adding. Just the ox.
          Larry took no notice of the bite in her voice. “Now with Charlie and Maggie, it just kinda arrived all at once. You know, full bloom.”
          She eyed him again without him taking notice. “Yeah, full bloom.”
          The whole countryside knew Maggie set her cap for Charlie before they got out of high school. Course, Charlie almost didn’t make it out of school. Probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t played football.
          Larry skipped a stone across the creek and leaned against the bole of the oak. “Most all our friends got hooked up.”
          “Or ran for the hills. Like John and Edgar.”
          “Didn’t exactly run for the hills,” he protested. “John got a job over in Harreltown, and Edgar joined the army.”
          “Same thing.”
          “Maybe so.”
          Laura leaned against the tree beside him and rested her head in the crook of his arm. Would the dolt ever get around to it, or would she have to give him a shove?
          “Creek’s running high. Probably good fishing. Shoulda brought a pole.” He looked down at her. “You got anything to make a hook out of?”
          “Not a thing. We didn’t come here to go fishing.”
          He gave another sigh. “Fishing’s about the most relaxing thing I know.”
          “I don’t doubt that, Not for a minute.”
          Well, that was that. He was off and running in a different direction now. No telling when she’d get him back on the subject. Wait for another wedding? They were running out of marriageable friends.
          He gave her a quick hug. “How… how you think it was for us… honey? You know, the love thing?”
          Despite the joy bubbling in her bosom, she couldn’t resist one more swipe. “Like a mustard seed, Larry. Like a mustard seed.”


*****
A little change of pace from last week, don’t you think? Hope you enjoyed that idyllic slice of life.

Don’t forget that The Lovely Pines came out last week. Hope you’ll get a copy of the book and read it. If so, please give me feedback.

Now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say… so say it.

If you would like to drop me a line, my personal links follow:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3

Here are some buy links to the Lovely Pines, which (as noted) was released on August 28:



Abaddon’s Locusts is scheduled for release on January 22, 2019. I’m  hard at work on the first draft of The Voxlightner Scandal.

See you next week.

Don

New Posts are published at 6:00 a.m. each Thursday.



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