Time's a Wasting

Ellis drove at a sedate twenty-five miles an hour down Rt. 45. Beside him, Arnold watched as cars passed them like they were standing still, which, essentially, they were. When an eighty-year-old grandma honked and whizzed past, Arnold had to say something. 

“Do you know where the gas pedal is?” he asked. “Even this pathetic piece of Ford junk can go faster than this.”

“Can’t speed up just yet,” Ellis replied. 

Arnold withstood another thirty minutes of slow torture before he broke down. “We need to get this over with, Ellis. Speed up!”

“In just a minute,” Ellis said and checked his watch.

“What are you waiting for?” Arnold asked. “Christmas?” 

“Nope,” Ellis answered. “Waitin’ on him to die.”

“What!” Arnold shouted and turned all the way around in the seat. “He was supposed to be dead two hours ago!”

“You didn’t hit him quite hard enough,” Ellis said. “He was still breathing when I rolled him up and put him in the back.”

“Why didn’t you hit him again then?”

“You kill, I drive. That’s the deal.”

“I can’t believe you! I should hit you over the head too. Nobody would blame me. It’d be a righteous kill,” Arnold stated. 

 

“No need to be that way,” Ellis said.

“Stop the car and let’s get this over with!” Arnold snapped.

“No need,” Ellis replied. “He’s dead by now. We’ve been driving for two hours and it’s a hundred and twenty in the shade. Why do you think I’ve been driving so slow?”

My Brother's Keeper

“Please, help me.”

Billy barely heard the plea from inside the box. In the beginning, the screaming and cursing were so loud they hurt his ears, and he thought the kicking was sure to burst the box right open, but, evidently shipping crates were as strong as they claimed. The kicking and screaming wouldn’t do any good anyway. Billy had learned the hard way that nobody heard your screams out there.

By the time the dirt had reached the half-way point of the box, the cursing had stopped and the clawing and begging started. The first shovelful of dirt Billy threw on top of the crate brought about pounding and promises. Unfortunately, Billy had given up on promises a long time ago.

“I… can’t… breathe.”

Billy laughed. “I used to feel the same way when you had my face crushed into the pillow.”

“Billy? Is…tha..t..you?”

“Hello, Dad.”

“Please, son, let...me…out of...here.”

Billy ignored his father’s begging and kept shoveling dirt onto and around the box. He was almost finished when his father started crying.

“Please stop!” his father wailed. “Please!”

“How many times did I say the same thing to you?” Billy demanded. “You know, I thought it was my fault. That I was somehow to blame for the pain you caused me all these years. That I did something wrong or I really was evil like you said. You had me convinced, Dad, until last night.”

When the begging and crying stopped, Billy said, “That’s right. I saw you coming out of Jeremy’s room last night.”

“I…promise it..wi…ll…never…happ…en..aga..in.”

“It should have never happened in the first place!” Billy yelled. “He’s only six!”

“I know. I’m…sorr…y.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time, Dad,” Billy said and threw another mound of dirt onto the crate. “Sorry won’t bring his innocence back.” He pushed the shovel into the ground again. “Sorry won’t stop his tears!” He brought the shovel around once more. “Sorry won’t ease the pain! Sorry won’t stop the blood!” Billy screamed as the shovel handle cracked. “Sorry won’t give me back the last eight years!”

The head of the shovel slashing his arm as it flew by snapped Billy out of his rage. He tore a piece of his shirttail off and tied it around his arm. He’d go to his uncle, a doctor, later. The man was used to patching him up and not asking questions.

No matter how hard Billy tried to put his brother out of his mind, the boy’s pleas from the night before kept haunting him. He could still see his father coming out of Jeremy’s room and hear Jeremy saying, “I’m so sorry, Daddy, I will be a good boy from now on. I promise.”

Billy had waited until their father went into his own room before going to Jeremy. The boy didn’t want to talk about it at first, but after Billy started talking about his own experiences, Jeremy finally opened up. By the time he was through, Billy was shaking so hard he could barely stand. He promised his little brother that nobody would ever hurt him again.

“Never again, Jeremy,” he whispered as he picked up the shovel head and started scraping dirt into the hole. He noticed how his blood mingled with the older, dried blood from where he’d hit his father earlier that morning. Billy somehow thought it fitting. After all, they both had blood on their hands in one way or another.

“Please, God,” his father whispered as the dirt rained through the few remaining holes in the crate.

“Go ahead and pray,” Billy said. “It won’t do you any good. God quit listening to this family a long time ago.”

Let's eat Grandma

I thought up this story after seeing a meme on Facebook about grammar. It was the one with:

"Let's eat grandma" vs "Let's eat, Grandma"

I'm sure you can guess which my story is about.

_______________________________________________________________

“Let’s eat grandma.”

The others looked at Nate as if he’d just grown two heads.

“Are you crazy?”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that I’m starving,” Nate answered. “We haven’t had anything but stringy rat stew in two weeks. My stomach is fixin’ to eat my backbone if we don’t get some food soon.”

“We’re all hungry,” Blake said. “That doesn’t mean we need to turn into cannibals.”

“What’s the big deal?” Nate asked. “She’s gotta be, what, close to ninety by now? How much longer can she have anyway?”

 “I can’t believe you’re even thinkin’ about eating grandma. It’s, it’s disgusting!” Billy snapped. “She’s not dead yet!”

“Well,” Nate asked, “what do y’all suggest we do?”

None of the others had an answer for him. They all looked around at the alley they called home. The cardboard boxes they slept in. The threadbare sheets they covered themselves with, and grandma, huddled in the corner, shivering.

“Look at her,” Nate ordered. When the others had complied, he went on. “She is cold and sick. We’d be doing her a favor. Putting her out of her misery.”

“You talk about her like she was a dog!” Shelly cried. “She’s our grandma!”

“Is she?” Nate asked. “Do any of us really know if the woman is our grandma?”

One by one, they all shook their heads. None of them remembered their families, or a time before the alley. All they remembered, to a child, was hunger, cold, pain, begging, stealing, and grandma. She had always been there it seemed.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s our real grandma,” Billy said. “She takes care of us. That’s what counts.”

The others shook their heads in agreement, but Nate saw them sneak a glance at the crumpled woman. He knew they were listening.

“How does she take care of us exactly?” he asked. “We go out and pick pockets or beg from store owners for what little we get. We get hauled in by the cops when we’re caught, and they can never seem to find grandma when they come looking. We skin and cook the rats, we round up water from the lake; we huddle together under our pitiful sheets to stay warm while grandma sleeps comfortably under three blankets with an overcoat on. Who’s taking care of who?”

Billy didn’t even have an answer for that. He knew Nate was right. All the children did, but what he was talking about was crazy. They couldn’t kill and eat the woman. Could they?

“It doesn’t matter,” Billy decided. “We still can’t eat her.”

The others stood beside him, in front of grandma, a solid barrier between Nate and the old woman. Nate knew he had lost them.

“Okay, okay, I give up. We’ll just eat rats until we die.”

With that, Nate disappeared from the alley. The others took refuge around the pitiful fire Billy started and tried to get warm. Grandma watched them from the corner.

About ten minutes later, when she was sure Nate wasn’t coming right back, Grandma scooted over to the group. “You know he has a point.” She said to the kids.

They all looked at her but kept silent. Nobody knew what she meant. Surely she didn’t mean for them to eat her.

“We are starving. We do need food.”

The children still didn’t speak. They waited to see what Grandma said next.

“The problem is, I’m too old and stringy to feed you kids,” Grandma said.

“We would never eat you!”

“Nate was just being crazy!”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Grandma,” Billy stated.

“Hush, children,” Grandma said. “I know none of you would hurt me. None of you here right now anyway.”

The children knew she was talking about Nate. The one person missing from their group. They all turned to look toward the end of the alley, afraid he was back. When the old woman in front of them shivered and huddled into herself in fear, the children stood tall.

“We will take care of Nate,” Billy told her.

“Yeah,” Blake added, “we’ll kick him out of the group.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do it,” Grandma replied. “Just because he’s not in the group doesn’t mean he can’t still sneak around.”

She watched as the children absorbed what she was telling them. She forced a tear just in case they weren’t fully on her side yet. They had always done what she told them, but this was different. Still, Grandma was sure she had them when they all joined hands and vowed to protect her. What else could they do, really, she surmised. They were still children after all, and, whether they would admit it or not, they wanted an adult around to guide them.

“If you really want to protect me, we have to take care of Nate,” she told the children.

“What do you mean, take care of him?” Billy asked.

Grandma looked him hard in the eye and said, “I think you know.”

All of the children gasped and stepped back.

“I know, I know,” Grandma said. “It’s not something we want to do, but if we don’t then he will kill me.” When the children still didn’t immediately agree, she added. “Believe me, he will. Probably tonight after you’ve all gone to bed. You know he always stays up late.”

The children did know. Nate roamed around all night sometimes, so much so that the others had grown accustomed to it and no longer heard him, which could mean the end for Grandma.

“It’s him or me, children,” Grandma stated, tears rolling down her face. “I will leave the decision up to you. Just know that whatever you decide is okay with me. I love you all,” she stopped to clear her throat, “and would gladly give my life for you.”

The children all rushed forward and hugged her. Over their heads, Grandma smiled.

Later that night, when Nate came back to the alley, the children were waiting. He lay down in his cardboard box and rolled over. The children pounced. Each using whatever club, stick or pot was handy. It took a while, but, eventually, Nate stopped moving.

Grandma oversaw the dismemberment. The children looked away as she filleted Nate and dug holes to bury and preserve the meat. None of them turned down the stew she served afterward, though. It smelled so much better than rat.

Two New Flash Pieces

These are two new flash stories I've written recently. I posted them on Bubblews so I can't repost them here, but I can put the links for y'all to read if you like. One of the stories is a sweet story. Yes, I managed to write a story and not kill anybody!

Love in the Afternoon:

http://www.bubblews.com/news/1208312-love-in-the-afternoon

Salad Days:

http://www.bubblews.com/news/1175503-salad-days


I hope y'all enjoy the stories.

Forget Me Not

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Will you just shut up and hold the rope steady.”

“How do you hold a rope steady?”

“Owww! Not like that!”

Quinn pulled the rope taut and tried to keep it from moving as much. He hoped Gregory hurried. All he needed was for the cops to show up. And for something so stupid!

“Hurry up!” Quinn ordered and jerked the rope.

“Shit! That hurt, you asshole!” Gregory screamed. "Give me some more rope."

Quinn laughed. “Serves you right,” he muttered under his breath. He enjoyed a rest while the rope went slack. Quinn knew Gregory was searching the livingroom for his watch.

Ten minutes later, Gregory yelled for Quinn to pull him up. “Good thing you’re a skinny bastard,” Quinn grunted as he pulled the other man over the edge of the chimney. “Did you get it?”

“No, I couldn’t find it,” Gregory said. He tried to brush the ash off his clothes but it was no use. “I know I left it on the table.”

“This what you’re looking for, boys,” a voice from the darkness asked and held up a watch.

Gregory turned abruptly and bumped into Quinn. “No!” Quinn yelled as he fell off the roof. He was still screaming when he stopped falling. The rope around his stomach felt like it was cutting him in two, but he all he could think was, “Thank God,” when he saw he was only a few feet from the ground.

On the roof, the man stepped from the darkness and held the watch out to Gregory. “Mr. Bridges?” Gregory whispered. “I can explain, I…”

“Oh, I know exactly what happened,” Mr. Bridges said and stepped closer. “You defiled my daughter.”

Gregory hugged the chimney. He had grabbed hold when Quinn went over the edge. He wanted to run, but knew he couldn’t let go. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bridges,” Gregory said. “I love your daughter. We should have waited. I want to marry her.”

Bridges laughed and moved closer. “You will never come near her again,” he said. “And if she should end up pregnant, I will see to it that the little bastard is gotten rid of. Your genes will never pollute our family.”

Gregory didn’t have time to reply. Mr. Bridges grabbed at him and started to pull.

“No!” Gregory yelled. He tried to hold onto the chimney, but his hands started slipping. The last thing he heard before he fell off the roof was Mr. Bridges say, “Time’s up.” 

Quinn’s screams joined Gregory’s for a few seconds before he hit the ground. He was trying to push to his knees when Gregory landed beside him. A minute later, Gregory’s watch followed him down.

Kim's Kindness

Kim knew she shouldn’t have left her mother, but the little puppy was so cute, and she’d never been able to resist cuteness.

She kept following the little ball of fur farther and farther into the woods. “Here, puppy,” she tried again. The puppy would stop and look at her, but never come close. He’d cock his head to the side and then run off again. Kim was scared he’d get hurt out there all alone. She didn’t stop to think what might happen to her out there.

Suddenly, the puppy stopped and started whimpering. Kim was able to walk right up to it. She scooped the little bundle up and held him close, trying to quiet his fear. When the puppy settled down, she heard something. “No, please!” someone begged. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Kim edged closer to the sound. When she peeked through some brush, it was her doing the whimpering and not the puppy. Not too far from where she stood, a man was standing over a woman. He had something in his hands, but Kim couldn’t tell what. She could tell the woman was scared though. Her eyes were wide and she was crying.

Kim stepped back, intent on finding her mom and getting the police. The crack of the branch she stepped on seemed to resonate through the whole forest.

Kim gasped.

The man’s head snapped toward her.

The woman screamed “No!” when she saw Kim.

The scream broke through Kim’s terror. She spun around and started running.

Behind her, she heard the man grunt and then yell for the woman to let him go. The woman said something Kim couldn’t hear and then yelled, “Run, child, run!”

Kim didn’t have to be told. She was running as fast as her legs would take her. The puppy was trying to get free, but Kim wouldn’t let him. “No,” she told him. “You have to stay with me. You can’t save her.”

She thought she’d made it. The edge of the woods were in sight. Kim raced ahead, but suddenly the breath was knocked from her.

The puppy squealed when Kim landed on him but managed to squirm his way out from under her. Then he charged at the man. Every time the man tried to get close to Kim, the puppy would snarl and bite at him. Finally, the man had enough. Kim watched in dismay as he kicked the puppy. She couldn’t tell where the puppy landed, but the sick thud and silence broke her heart.

The man reached down and picked Kim up. She fought, but was no match for his strength. After she bit his neck, he slapped her so hard she saw stars. “Do that again and I’ll break your neck,” he warned.

Kim was so scared. She didn’t want to die. She wanted her mommy. She promised God that if he got her away from the man, she’d never wander off again, no matter how cute the puppy was.

It seemed they walked forever before getting back to the woman. The man threw Kim down beside her. Kim got sick after seeing all the blood covering the woman’s face. Kim figured the man had hit the woman with the big stick lying beside her.

“Is…sh..e..dea..d?” Kim stammered.

“I sure hope not,” the man said. “I haven’t had enough fun with her yet.”

Kim didn’t understand what he meant. She didn’t think the woman had had any fun at all with the man. She hoped he was right about her not being dead, though.

The man picked up the big stick and told Kim to do as she was told or he’d beat her to death with it. He then grabbed one of the woman’s legs and started dragging her farther into the woods. “Come,” he told Kim.

When she wasn’t moving fast enough, he prodded her along with the stick. Kim kept glancing back at the woman. She didn’t see how she could sleep while being dragged. Finally, she thought she saw the woman open her eyes. Kim started to say something, but the woman put a finger to her lips. “Get a move on!” the man yelled and swatted Kim with the stick.

They walked a little longer until they came to a tent. The man told Kim to sit on a stump and dropped the woman beside her. The woman acted like she was still sleeping whenever the man looked, but she winked at Kim when his back was turned.

Kim watched as the man rummaged in a bag. When he pulled out some rope and came toward her, she started crying. The man kicked the woman out of the way and started to tie Kim’s wrist.

He was busy with Kim and not paying attention to anything else. Kim saw movement from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t believe it when she saw the puppy. The little dog started nipping at the man’s legs. He was jumping around so fast the man couldn’t catch him. The man finally got so mad he picked up the stick and hit the puppy.

Kim didn’t think, she just lunged at the man. She hit him hard enough to knock him off balance. The stick flew out of his hand. Kim was trying to get up off the ground, which wasn’t easy with her hands tied, when she heard the man roar. He was coming after her when the woman stood up.

Kim watched as the woman picked up the stick and ran for the man. She struck him in the head and he went down. Then the woman kept hitting him and hitting him. Kim had to turn away.

The woman finally stopped and fell to her knees. She crawled to Kim and asked her if she was ok. Kim couldn’t stop crying, but she wasn’t hurt. The woman helped her to her feet and told her they needed to find her mother. They were leaving the campsite when Kim heard it. A slight mewling sound and then a moan.

“The puppy!” she yelled and pulled her hand free.