Terror

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

Wild eyed and panicked Toby Sheridan struggled against his bindings.  His breathing was labored due to the rag that was stuffed in his mouth then tapped over with thick duct tape.  His arms were bound behind him, his legs tapped to the legs of the little wooden chair he was sitting in.  He tried desperately to wiggle some portion of his body free but with every move he made a noose tied around his neck tighten a little more due to the rope that was tied intricately through the chair.

As tears streamed from his eyes he tried desperately to understand how he had found himself in such a predicament.  The walls that surrounded him had been so familiar and inviting these past five years now they seemed alien and terrifying.  Toby’s heart raced as the sound of familiar laughter echoed in his ears.

How could Sam be doing this to him? They were friends, buddies…partners.  Together they had spent countless hours here in this place, laughing and singing.  Here in this very room they had experienced things for the first time.  This had been where he had tasted alcohol for the first time, seen his first porn movie, and smoked his first joint.  Here on the floor of this dusty room he had lost his virginity to a local prostitute named Maggie.  That night had also been the first time he had tried Chrystal Meth.  This was the “fun house”.  Toby had done things in this house in the name of pleasure that he had never conceived of before he met Sam.

Sam had been great to him.  He always fronted him money when he was low, at least it seemed that way.  As Toby began to consider this he realized that more often than not it had been he who had paid for the booze, drugs or women.  Often times Toby hadn’t had the money for these things but Sam always had a scheme, an angle or some other means for Toby to come up with the cash.  The “fun house” had opened Toby up to world of armed robbery and assault.

Toby had sat in this chair night after night indulging in the pleasures that Sam devised.   Now he found himself the object of a new pleasure; this time for Sam’s entertainment.

The worst of it had been that he had allowed it to happen.  He had willingly come to the house, willingly sat in the chair.  He had laughingly offered his arms to be tapped behind his back.  He had felt the tension from the binds but hadn’t been able to stop himself.  He was marching happily into what ever snare Sam had created for him. He had enjoyed it.

Sam had never led him wrong before.  He had always been the master of new pleasures of new experiences.  Toby’s mind had been ablaze with delight in the first hour of his bondage.  Anticipation had tingled in every follicle.  Two hours in his awareness heightened even more as the memory of all the past pleasures raced through his mind. 

Then in the third hour he became thirsty.  He had never felt such thirst before.  It was almost all consuming.  He began grunting and wiggling in attempts to let his friend know that he was weary of this experiment and ready to be released.

Yet, Sam had only stared at him blank faced and immobile.

Panic gripped his spin causing every discomfort to be even more pronounced.  Toby began struggling as he became frantic. 

The next three hours drained the strength from his body.  He wanted to sleep.  He wanted to close his eyes and wake up with the knowledge this had just been a nightmare.  Hunger gnawed at his belly as the thirst became worse.  He wanted to cry out so badly, but he was bound too tight to free himself, too tight to free his mouth of the rag and the tape.

Toby looked into the eyes of his friend.  Sam looked back with evil intention as the room filled with laughter. 

“You are mine now.  Of your own free will, you are mine” Sam said manically with a sinister sneer plastered on his face.

What was he talking about? What did this man have in store for him now?  Would he keep him tied like this until he died of dehydration? 

Terror racked Toby’s body, filling him with the most sickening despair he’d ever experience, as his friend moved closer then leaned down to into his face.  A look of mock compassion rippled across Sam’s face.

“Oh don’t seem so sad Toby. We had a lot of fun here didn’t we?  Wasn’t I a gracious host?  Didn’t I provide for your every desire” Sam paused and his facial expression once again changed to a look of deadly mischief.

“Of course I did Toby.  Of course I did. More over my friend, do not forget that I did not force you to sit.  I never forced a single thing upon you.  I only facilitated the darkness in your heart.  I did not place it there.  You always had a choice.  You choose this for yourself Toby…do not forget that” Sam spoke with a soft feinted sympathy.

Toby looked into the face of death and knew it was true.  He had wanted this.  He had known right from wrong.  He had heard the still small voice in his heart pleading with him to resist but he had brushed it aside.  Life was for living and he had lived it the way he wanted.  Nevertheless, as he faced his death regret flooded his soul.  He didn’t want to die like this, naked…bound…alone.  If only he had just said no to Sam even once in the last five years…maybe…just maybe he would have avoided this somehow.

Suddenly a glimmer flashed before his eyes as Sam brandished a polished blade that reflected the small amount of light from the dimly lit room.  Pain seared his body as Sam began to carve the skin on his chest.  Blood trickled down his body and began to pool in the wooden chair.

This was it, he was going to be butchered by someone he had considered a friend.  If only he could somehow reason with him.  If only he could beg for his life.  Yet, the rag in his mouth kept his voice stuffed in the back of his throat.

For the wages of sin are death

Toby could hear the voice of his mother inside his soul whispering a truth he had never realized until now.  He had never seen his life as sinful.  How could this much fun be anything but good? After all he wasn’t hurting anyone was he?  He had never robbed anyone who didn’t have more than their share.  He’d never had sex with anyone who hadn’t given him plenty of indication they wanted it.  He’d never pushed his habits on anyone.  This was his life, he was god and master of his own existence.

No…

Sam had been…

He had given Sam permission to rule his life.  He had looked to Sam for guidance.  He had worshipped Sam, loved Sam…he had wanted everything Sam had offered.

Toby felt the blade going deeper into his chest.  His breath became wet as Blood filled his left lung.  He tried to cough but the rag in his mouth kept him from being able to expel the labored breath.  A bloody mist jetted from his nose and splattered Sam’s face.

Darkness surrounded Toby on all sides.  He could hear the sound of screeching demonic voices calling out to him from the shadows.  He was paralyzed with fear.  The knife pulled back from his flesh allowing more blood to flow down his body.  Toby felt the point of the knife once again as Sam slowly and methodically began pushing the blade into his flesh and through is organs.

Oh God please…

He screamed inside himself.  If only he had another chance.  If only he could turn back the clock and make things different.  If only he could choose another life for himself….

All these “what ifs” tormented him further.  He was dying.  No one would ever know or care the reason for it. His life was wasted on the pursuit of things that made his body feel good but had twisted his soul into a mangled, twisted, disease ridden blackness that was now going to completely consume him.

He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities

His mother’s voice once again asserted it’s self in his heart. 

What did it mean?  What was she trying to say to him?  Surely he was only hallucinating from the pain and the fear.  Nevertheless her voice continued to cut through his confusion.

The chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed

As Toby struggled to comprehend these words Sam grabbed the back on his head and pulled it back before plunging the knife hard into this stomach.  Toby’s eyes watered.  The muffled sound of a tormented scream came through the rag only slightly.

No! Please God just give him another chance…

His mother’s voice sounded again. 

Oh Lord God please give me another chance…just one more chance to understand…save me God please…just give me the chance to know the truth…to change…

This time the voice was his own as the thirst, hunger and pain of his soul built to a crescendo of need.  Toby’s strength gave out and his eyes slowly closed.  Darkness and silence over took him…

~~~~~~~~``

Toby felt a tight grasp on his right hand.  His eyes slowly opened.  The room was slightly dim and foreign.  His throat was dry and he felt as though he’d been asleep for a hundred years.  His eyes felt sore and puffy.

“Momma” he managed to said hoarsely

His mothers head slowly rose and her eyes met his.  Tears streaked her face.  She gripped his hand with strength he never knew the frail woman had.  It was then he noticed that he was lying in a hospital bed.  IV needles fed his veins with needed fluids and medications.

He struggled to remember what had happened but it was a blur.  He had been attacked by someone, hadn’t he…no…no that wasn’t it….

“Momma what happened” he squeaked.

“Shss, sweet heart. You are ok now.  You’ve been ill, very ill.  Your immune system was very weak from the disease and you contracted pneumonia.  But you’re back with me now Toby.  The Lord has given you another chance” his mother said as she hugged his arm to herself and cried.

It all came back in a rush.  Toby had contracted HIV from sharing needles or maybe it had come from one of his partners.  He never really knew, he hadn’t cared…up until now it hadn’t mattered.  He had simply known he was going to die due in part to the lifestyle he had chosen. Maybe it was for this reason he had decided to stay as high as he could as long as he could.  His body had just given out.

He hadn’t thought he cared to live until now.  Somehow a vague dream of a man named Sam had changed his mind.  Or was it a dream?  Could it have been something more?

Could it have been….

© 2009 all rights reserved

The wages of sin are death.  All of us will, in due season reap of what we have sown.  Payment must be made for our transgressions.  Either we will pay it ourselves or we will allow another to pay it for us.  There is but one who can and has paid this debt.  There is only one way, truth and life in this existence and His name is Jesus Christ. 

In this time of spooks, and terrors by night my worst fear is not in ghost, goblins and homicidal maniacs slashing scantily clad co-eds…its in the fact that many still have not made Jesus Christ their Savior.

That my friends, is the greatest terror of all…

God bless

Barack Obama is the new quarter back for the

....Washington.... Thinskins

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

I’m been sitting back for a while and watching patiently the events of our once great nation.  Let me tell you why.  For two solid years leading up to the election I wrote almost daily concerning the state of affairs in the political world.  Not only that I tied them into biblical principals, I spoke on internet radio, both as a guest on others shows and as the host of two different shows of my own.  After the election I did run downs on the new cabinet members warning of their ideology as well as their history.

It hardly makes much sense to say “see I told you so” now does it.

This morning I’m biting my lip in writing this because a) I’m only highlighting the obvious and b) I’m only repeating the same things I’ve said so many times over the course of the previous years. 

Nevertheless, once more I shout in this wilderness.

So here it is plan and simple. 

Freedom of speech is dead.  Through PC bull pucky and thin skinned politicians the right of the people to hold their representatives accountable has been snatched from us like a deal seeker on black Friday. 

Now let me qualify my statement for those of you who would disagree.  I’m not saying that we don’t have the freedom to speak out.  If that were true you wouldn’t be reading this.  What is the truth however is that free speech no longer carries with it the power it was intended to have.

Our forefathers endued the first amendment with power they never had under English rule.  It was the very first thing they made available under what we call the bill of rights.  It gave a voice to those who had been voiceless and through the years it has conquered tyrannies in all its guises. 

Without the ability of the people to express their selves and hold their representatives accountable do you think that women would have the right to vote or a black man would have the right to attend any university he choices?  Absolutely not…

Now however we are facing an administration that isn’t interested in being accountable.  They are interested in only one thing and that is the legacy of the nations first “minority” president.  It is of utmost importance to several special interest groups that Obama’s reign be seen in history as immaculate and they will do anything necessary to ensure it.

Looking at the last year you’ll find that anyone attacking the presidents ideology and direction have been beset on all sides by the liberal media and when all else fails the big “R” (for racist) has been slapped on them like the scarlet letter.  Just look at what happened to Rush Limbaugh when he decided to get involved in purchasing an NFL team. 

This has been the one weapon the liberal agenda has never had to use before and it is why they were never able to seize the power they needed to push their idiotic agenda down the throats of the American people.  Now they have it. 

We aren’t going to debate this here.  Its not worth my time, nor yours.  I am not interested in a racial discussion because it not pertinent to this context.  The reason being is that its used only as a weapon.  The race card played from either side is nothing more than the lack of any real argument so lets put that to bed right here and now and instead recognize it for what it is.

Now the next step for this administration was to begin censoring the media.  You can argue this is if you like but when the president holds close door meetings with major media and excludes the highest rated cable news agency in the country then its censoring.  It’s been clear from the beginning that Obama hates Fox News. 

Fox is the only major media outlet who gives both sides of the argument and allows people to make up their own minds rather than having media sentiment stuffed up our noses.  It isn’t Fox’s fault that people reject the liberal argument when seen along side the alternate.  Liberal ideology shoots its self in the foot when confronted with fact therefore when seen in context it fails to impress people.  By rejecting this means of communications the Obama administration seeks to mold the opinion of the American people. 

Anything contrary to their talking points must obviously come from uninformed, uneducated, tyrannical, and or raciest people with the agenda of keeping him down. 

Remember all the Bush, “Hitler” comments all those years? Where are  these left wing talking heads now? Can they not recognize propaganda techniques when they see them?  Of course they can, they’ve studied them well and they are implementing them just like Hitler did in the thirties.  Being authorities on Hitler finally came in handy for them didn’t it.

Still there is more to this…more to how the power of freedom of speech has been leached away.  The truth is Obama is leading by example.  We can see it trickling down even into such trivialities as the National Football League (NFL).

This week as the Washington Redskins loose another game in inept play they have decided that fans would not be allowed to carry signs into the stadium.  The news broke because of a woman who was carrying a sign saying hello to her husband in ....Afghanistan.....  The officials told her it was their policy but had very little explanation.  The fact of the matter is, they are scared of the power of free speech.  They are afraid the fans have turned on them and don’t want any disparaging “words” bouncing around for people to see on TV.  How nice. 

Not only that they are forbidding the media from talking to tailgaters before the game.  Again the fear is laughable. Still, what should we expect with the example down the street in the big house?

It all comes down to something that I’ve written at least twenty articles about and that is accountability. 

Accountability is the teeth and the power behind the freedom of speech.  When it’s gone so too is the ability of the little guy to fight back.  I can scream it from the mountains and believe me I have, but unless those in power make themselves accountable, what good does it do to shout.

Right now we have a president who is waffling over whether or not to take the military advice from those on the ground to send in troops that will help to protect the men and women already in Afghanistan while he spends his time worried that Bill O’rielly is going to call him a pin head…and the rest of the world is following his lead.

President Obama sir, with all due respect….You sir, are King Pinhead, great pin head among pin heads.  Now that that’s out of the way would you please get off you butt and do something worthy of the history you are already trying to write for yourself, or would that be too much work for you? The country is watching and following your lead and you, like those you admire so much in ..Europe.., are marching us right over the cliff.

The words to an old Doors song keeps playing in my head today.  To me it symbolizes something horribly sad yet full of promise.

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again

The sadness comes from the fact that the country we once knew and loved is dead.  This is the end. You can take that as cynical if you like but nevertheless it is true.

Now for the upside…

There is a chance for rebirth in all of this.  People seldom know what they have until it is gone or taken away.  They take for granted the fullness of life until they are faced with death.  From that sometimes we can rise from the ashes and even be stronger for it in the end.

....America.... is in a cycle that has lasted far longer than any other country in the world.  The rise and fall of this great land has a historic arc to it that will never be repeated by another earthly kingdom but we on at the end of the arc now.  It is up to us how we proceed. 

May the Lord bless us and lead us.

© 2009 all rights reserved

Star Wars: War and Peace

Episode One: Cycles

"I'm telling you ....Suriname...., something isn't right about this", Xiolos Malcolm said in frustration.

"I don't understand you Xiolos; you've always spoken of the peace the galaxy has enjoyed since the fall of the Empire.  Your own father over saw the dissolve of the Imperial armed forces, at the end of the Great War.  How could you be so opposed to the cutting back on the Republics military presence through out the galaxy.  Isn't this just the natural evolution of our society" Suriname Solo replied to her mentor.

A fragile peace had reigned throughout the galaxies for a hundred years since the defeat of the Emperor.  It had taken many years to rebuild  the worlds that had been war torn as a result of the great battle for freedom.  Despite the difficulty of the rebuilding process, it had proven far more difficult to rebuild trust and bringing the Republic back together had taken far longer.  Now, on the eve of the centennial anniversary of victory over tyranny an announcement to recall and dissolve the Republics peace keeping forces had ....Suriname....'s professor up in arms.

Xiolos Malcolm was the professor of “galactic political advancement” as well as the universities oldest living historian.  Xiolos's father had been a member of the Rebel Army and friends with ....Suriname....'s grand father Han.  ....Suriname.... had known Xiolos for many years as the man would stay with her family many times while on sabbatical from the university or while traveling about the different star systems doing field work for his classes or giving lectures on something he referred to as the "Loop Theory".

Loop Theory, Xiolos explained was his way of predicting future events.  Xiolos had become so accurate in his depiction of future events that many considered him to be an untrained Jedi rather than a scholar.  As a result he was both sought out and feared.

"Peace is a fragile thing.  It's much harder to predict than war.  It's much harder to preserve. Sometimes peace it's self can lead to the most savage of wars" Xiolos explained.

"That doesn't even make sense.  How could peace start a war? Isn't peace the after effect of war? You know, the result of wars ending. That's why we don't need the armies now.  We've learned our lesson from the last war" ....Suriname.... replied.

"It's not that simple Young Solo.  The truth is, the galaxy has always had these cycles of peace and war.  The war of your grand father's fame came at the end of one of these cycles and I fear we are coming to the end of yet another.  The galaxy has become board and listless.  Our societies are filled with those of the short attention span and no respect for history.  They simply believe that tomorrow will be the same as today which is the same as it was yesterday.  For them it may be true to a certain point.  There are few who remain to testify of the horrors of forgetting where we came from and mind full of where we are going" Xiolos explained.

"You're getting paranoid in your old age I think" ....Suriname.... laughed.

"I hope you are right my friend.  Nevertheless I have other things to do today and you, I believe have a lecture on warp drive theory that you are five minutes late for" Xiolos said.

"Ah, I hate that class.  It's taught by a droid.  It's boring.  I'm tired of theory.  Every class I'm taking this semester is the theory of something.  I want to do something, instead of theorizing about it.  Travel the galaxy, see new things..." ....Suriname.... said.

"Young lady I do believe what you are looking for is trouble" Xiolos said with a grandfatherly smile on his face.

"You said that, not me" ....Suriname.... replied with a chuckle of her own.

"Well, if you miss another lecture...trouble will find you.  Get going or I'll call your mother and let her know you've been hanging out around that boy again" Xiolos said with a wink.

"What boy" ....Suriname.... said as she batted her eyelashes.

"Get going Suri, seriously I have other things to do" Xiolos said then walked the young woman to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The skies were dark.  This was the dark season on the planet Uni of the Blevins system. Days were counted in seasons rather than hours due to its slow rotation.  The ....University.. of ..Uni.... was located here because of its central location.  Unfortunately its location also made it a favorite space port, as a result many seedy clubs and bars had begun popping up during the "dark season".  One such place was called "Across the Universe" or the "Ace Lounge" as it was nicknamed by some of the university students.  The bar got its moniker due to being the hang out for many of the galaxy premier star racers.  Many students would come here looking to compete in illegal racing.

Xiolos stood at the entrance and wondered if he wasn't making a horrible mistake.  Still, he was out of options.  He had tried to go to the Senate with his concerns but his voice had fallen on deaf ears.  He had to take matters into his own hands now.

He stepped through the door and looked for his contact.  Spotting him at the bar, Xiolos cautiously stepped up next to him.

"You've got nerve old man, I'll give you that" the man spoke with a voice that sounded like the crushing of gravel.

"Coming from you I'll take that as a compliment" Xiolos said then motioned to the barkeep to bring him a drink.

The man waved off the bar tender before he could come closer then slid an ominous looking drink over to Xiolos.

"If you're thirsty, try this" the man said.

Xiolos eyed the drink with suspicion.

"No thank you, I never touch the stuff" Xiolos replied as he pushed the drink back toward the man.

"Don't waste my time old fool.  Drink it or I'm gone.  I don't have the patience to deal with cowardly old men" the man said and pushed the drink back.

Xiolos picked up the glass.

"What is it" Xiolos asked.

"Insurance" the man replied.

Xiolos thought about setting the glass down and leaving but he felt he was already in too deep to stop now.  He threw back the drink and swallowed as quickly as possible as the oily tasting liquid bit at his mouth and throat.

"There, that's better" the man said and slapped Xiolos on the back causing him to cough.

"Come on, now we talk business" the man said and led Xiolos to a corner table.

Xiolos sat down.  His throat and mouth felt like they were on fire but the rest of his body felt very relaxed and at ease.  The room seemed bright despite the lighting being dim.  Paintings on the walls seemed to move fluidly giving him the feeling of liquid stupidity.

"Are you sure you can do this cleanly? That is, are you confident in your abilities" Xiolos asked as his eyes bounced in his head.

"Of course.  Why else would I be here?  The only problem is that of my fee" the man said with a growl that sounded like a lion purring.

"The fee has already been negotiated.  This is a point in which we will not be discussing further.  I will not be strong armed" Xiolos said.

"That is too bad" the man replied.

"There are those who have offered me more for a different job" the man said with an evil grin.

As the two men spoke a group of rowdy racers entered the bar through a back entrance.  Xiolos' turned his head to at the sound of the ruckus.

"You cheated.  I won't pay" one of the men shouted.

"If you don't pay up, you'll be banned from further competitions" another man replied.

"I don't care! I don't care.  Every week that guy pulls off some sort of maneuver no one has ever seen before.  I know he's using some sort of Jedi trick or something and I'm not going to be ripped off" the man shouted.

"The Jedi are extinct.  Skywalker was the last and he had no children.  You're just bitter because you were beaten by a better pilot.  Now pay up and get out" the other man said.

The angry man stood up and pushed past the man he had been arguing with to stand toe to toe with a much shorter person wearing a helmet that covered the face.

"One of these days I'm going to catch you somewhere out side this planet system and when I do, we'll see how well you do in a real contest" the man said then took some money from his shirt pocket and dropped it on the floor before stepping past and exiting the bar. 

The other man bent and picked up the money then handed the helmet clad pilot a cut of it.

Xiolos turned back to the man at the table and felt a burning sensation in his chest.  Blood began pouring down his chest. A long thing blade was pulled back by a reptilian hand.  The man in front of him changed color and blended in to the surroundings like a chameleon.

"Who are you and what have you done with..." Xiolos managed to speak before falling face forward on the table.

"You should have paid the money old man.  I work for the highest bidder and he offered much more for your head than you did for his" the man said as he stood and made his way through the bar; still camouflaged.

The helmet clad pilot walked through the bar and felt a bump from something large though there seemed to be no one there.  The bump however caused the pilot to stumble against Xiolos.

"Excuse me" a deep altered voice emitted from the helmet.

Xiolos didn't move or respond.  The pilot looked down intently then removed the helmet.

"Xiolos" Suriname exclaimed as she recognized the man.

Team Bête Noire

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

Chapter 4: Old Friends and Old Habits Die Hard

The city was mostly quite.  The only sounds were of a few sirens in the distance.  The city was hardly ever this quite.  Craig figured the time must be somewhere between 2:30 and 3:00 in the morning.  It was when things often went “bump”, the time when the worst of the human condition loved to roam; looking for the unwary.

This was the time Craig once loved to walk the streets the most when he was coming up in the police force.  Most considered the second shift to be the most exciting time to work because of how much work there was to do.  There was always a bar fight, domestic dispute or accident to work during the hours of 2pm and midnight. 

But that was just busy work, fodder for the rooky and those with trouble being self motivated…but the graveyard shift…that was for the big boys…

Craig’s eyes searched out the shadows as he walked.  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end with the electricity and invigoration of a long lost love; the hunt.  This was the time of night he had always been most effective with his…gifts.  In fact some of the more seasoned of the force called him “the Falcon” because of his predatory mindset when out on patrol and later after becoming detective because of his nose for always finding the smallest of details.

Those old instincts were being aroused for the first time in many months.   Something in the city was not right.  Something about the old couple nagged at him but the answer hid its self just out of reach of his comprehension.

“Not my problem” he suddenly said to himself as if arguing with his own conscience.

He turned the corner and realized he was near an old haunt of his: “The Dust Devil”.  He knew the place would be open for drinks even if they were a bit watered down.  He didn’t want to go home and for some reason he just wanted to sit down for a few minutes, have a drink and try to clear his head of the insanity he’d witnessed in the last few hours.

Craig found the place nestled below street level.  The place reminded him of the old television show “Cheers” and he half expected the patrons to all shout “Craig” when he walked in.  He stepped through the door to far less fan fair.  The room was dimly lit and only a few people sat at tables in the darkest parts of the bar.  It was the hour of shadows and those out during this time always took great pains in hiding their faces. Craig ambled over to the bar and sat down.

“Well, well, well…look what the cat has drug in” a man behind the bar said with a smile on his face.

The man behind the bar wore a dusty old straw cowboy hat and a set of round shades.  The smirk on his face was familiar and aroused a familiar disdain in the pit of Craig’s stomach.

“Look who’s talking.  You look like a reject from Natural Born Killers” Craig responded curtly.

The man only laughed.  Craig returned a smile as the two extended their hands to greet one another.

“How have you been brother?  I haven’t seen you since Jess…well I haven’t seen you around in a while” the man said.

“I’ve been around David, I just prefer my drinks with less water” Craig responded.

“Ouch, don’t say that so loud.  Some of these cats in here aren’t so understanding of the current economic times” David said with a wink then turned and took a bottle from the shelf and poured two shots.

“Have a snort of that Craig, tell me if it’s watered down” David said as he held up one of the glasses for Craig to take.

The two men knocked back the shots…

Craig emitted a low moaning cough as his eyes began to water.  He slapped the glass down and pounded the bar with his left hand before looking up at David who giving that infuriating mischievous grin once again.

“Replace water with turpentine” Craig coughed out.

“Kerosene but that was a good guess” David replied.

“You’re going to cause someone to go blind with that bathtub gin, you know that right” Craig grumbled.

“You want another one, don’t you” David replied.

Craig rolled his eyes and offered up his shot glass to be refilled.  The two men threw back the alcohol once again then slapped the glass down. 

“One more” David asked.

“Just give me a beer man, I’m not sure my liver can take any more abuse tonight” Craig replied.

David chuckled and walked back down the bar and retrieved a bottle of Samuel Adams.  Craig took the bottle then pulled his wallet from his back pocket.  As he opened it he realized he was down to his last twenty dollars.

“On the house tonight brother, me casa es su casa” David said.

“Since when” Craig asked.

“Don’t look a gift giraffe in the mouth boy-o, lets just say I was hoping you’d pop in and leave it at that” David answered.

Craig opened the bottle and took a long swig attempting to run the acrid flavor of David’s homemade liquor from his pallet…it didn’t help much.  After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, David finally spoke.

“What did you think of the facilities” David asked.

“What facilities” Craig responded.

“You know…the house that Marvin built” David continued.

“David it’s been a very long night and I think you’ve had one too many shots of that horse swill you call alcohol.  I’ll see you around man” Craig said and stood up.

“Wait a second Craig. Sit down.  I need to talk to you, it’s important” David replied with a serious tone.

“Not tonight David.  I appreciate the beer but I’m not that cheep of a date” Craig responded and turned.

“Aren’t you interested at all” David asked.

Craig stopped then and slowly turned around.

“Just give me a few moments to close up, and then we can talk ok.  Five, ten minutes tops.  You don’t like what I have to say then I’ll never bring it up again…ok” David said.

Craig grudgingly walked back to the bar and sat down.  David smiled then set about running the other’s from the building.  After he had closed and locked the door he returned and sat down on a bar stool next to Craig; leaving one empty stool between them.  It was always David’s habit to leave an arms length between himself an others, a trait he picked up long ago.

“What the fridge is this all about” Craig asked abruptly before, David could speak

“Redemption, well no maybe more like revenge if you’d rather” David responded.

“Out with it man, I’ve had a rough day and it hasn’t gotten any better since coming in here.  If you want to play Confucius, get a tent and join the circus, if you want any more of my attention, you better start spilling the beans” Craig said with agitation.

“Dude you should really switch to decaf ok” David replied.

“Look, I know they showed you the place.  You wouldn’t be here right now if they didn’t” David said.

David rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Let me guess you turned them down… right” David continued.

“So you are one of them” Craig replied.

“Yeah, that’s right and I thought you’d jump at the chance to get involved to.  I was the one who suggested they consider you.  I don’t think you realize how big of a deal it was for them to let you in the door.  They’ve been scrutinizing you for over a year.  Frankly your behavior lately has been making me look pretty bad” David answered.

“Why don’t you mind your own business David” Craig responded.

“Because we’re friends and you’ve been down on your luck.  You think you’ve been hiding in the bottom of that bottle because of Jessica but I’m going to let you in on a little secret buddy.  You’re in that bottle because you aren’t fulfilled anymore.  When you were working homicide you were the best in the game.  It’s what separated you from the rest of the drunks on the planet.  When you gave up on your talents you became just another statistic…another lonely soul looking for satisfaction in a world you were never meant to be a part of.  Wake up man.  Break the bottle and use the talents you were given” David said.

“You’re one to talk.  You were the best bounty hunter in the country then you gave it all up to buy…a bar of all things.  Don’t be so sanctimonious with me bub I’m not in the mood” Craig replied.

“Yeah, your right Craig…I did give it up for a while.  You see one too many blood stains, too many crying children…too many battered women and it does something to you but I’m telling you Craig, no matter how hard I tried to walk away…I just couldn’t sleep at night…couldn’t think straight…I crawled in one of those bottles.  Heck, why do you think I bought this place.  Free booze man” David smiled.

“I guess I’m supposed to pat you on the back and say atta boy now right” Craig replied.

“Cut the Dennis Leary shtick with me man.  I can see your working this all out in you head.  You probably have most of it figured out already.  You’re just too stubborn to care” David said.

“You’re wrong David.  She was my muse.  My talent came from her.  Without her I don’t even care about being fulfilled, nor can I be.  I appreciate your concern but I have no interest in your little cult” Craig replied.

“At least sleep on it.  Did you get to talk to Marvin yet” David replied.

“So Colleen isn’t the leader” Craig replied.

“See that, see your already starting to ask questions.  I thought you didn’t care” David chuckled.

“Whatever” Craig said and stood up to leave

“No, she’s not the leader.  She just wears the jacket sometimes.  In fact our little group is pretty good about handing over responsibilities sometimes.  It’s what makes it work so well.  We work together but we can all take prompts when we need to.  Marvin is the director, he’s the one who organizes the team” David said.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing spy games David.  Honestly I feel like Rod Serling is going to start doing some voice over right about now.  I’ve had enough, I’m leav…” Craig broke off from speaking at the sound of the front door opening.

“Holy jumped up spark plugs and spam…I swear I locked that door” David said as two shadowy characters entered the bar.

“Sorry but we’re closed.  I know this because of the sign on the door that reads closed” David said sarcastically.

“Even for me” a woman’s voice spoke.

Craig recognized the voice.  It was Colleen’s.

“Especially for you and your toady.  Turn around and get out” David shouted.

“I thought you were big buddies” Craig said under his breath.

“That’s not who you think it is Craig.  We need to get out of here and quick” David said as he stood and began backing up slowly.

Craig began to chuckle.

“Now I know this is just a prank.  Dude you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to set this up” Craig said.

“Shut up worm” a man’s voice came from the shadow.

The man stepped into the light holding a coiled whip in each hand.  Craig recognized the man as Tyler M.  Craig’s guns were out and pointed toward the two intruders in a blink of an eye.

“You didn’t say please” Craig replied.

Suddenly the coiled whips flipped and ....Tyler.... began to snap them around like a ticked off octopus.

“Craig that’s not Tyler M, that’s Tyler B” David said as he grabbed Craig and pulled him back away from the snapping whips.

“And I suppose that’s Colleen B as well.  Kind of a comedy of errors  thing you got going on here right” Craig said sarcastically.

“More like Predator, man …come on” David said as a little panic began to rise up in his words.

“This is a ride I’m not interested in riding right now David, get me off this crazy thing and point me to the door” Craig replied with a chuckle still not believing what he was experiencing.

-bang-

A gun shot rang out and shook Craig from his whimsy and slammed him into the reality of what was happening.  David fell behind him.

“Going so soon gentleman, the night is young” Colleen B said with ominous tone.

Craig hesitated in the confusion and felt the sting of a whip crack across his left arm and  right cheek.  Tyler B disappeared into the shadows and continued to crack the whip all around Craig from different angles in attempt to confuse and keep him frozen.

“We have much to discuss you and me” Colleen said as she stepped out of the shadows.

The woman looked exactly like Colleen M but had one dead eye and a scar that went from her forehead to her cheek.

“Hold on a second I can’t concentrate with all this crap” Craig said and fired a shot into the darkness.

“Ahhhhhh” Tyler B screamed out and ceased from cracking the whip.

“There, that’s better.  Now what were you saying” Craig said as he kept the gun on Colleen.

“Impressive, I see why my sister was so keen to have you” Colleen said and leered at Craig with a look as if he was a chocolate covered Sunday.

“Yeah, I’m in high demand these days.  Take a number and I’ll get back with you in about three hundred years” Craig replied.

“Your wit and charm are dull, it’s a good thing your so handsome” Colleen replied.

“So you’re blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other I guess” Craig said “Look this has been real and it’s been fun but it ain’t been real fun so if you please let yourself out. My buddy here has slipped on a banana peel and I need to get him some help” Craig answered back

“I could kill you now” Colleen said as she raised her gun.

“I’ve heard that song before, you don’t sing it any differently than any other two bit thugs I’ve ever met Miss Cyclops.  Collect you trash and get out” he replied as the two stood facing one another in a Mexican stand off.

“You’ve made a very costly mistake Falcon…one you’ll never live to regret” Colleen said and began to slowly drift into the shadows.

“I got it, I’ll rue the day,  you’ll get me and my little dog too…I know all the lines sister” Craig replied.

Craig watched the shadows and could make out two figures moving back through the door.  One walked while the other dragged its self as if one leg was incapacitated.

“Hmm, aim’s a little off” he said to himself as he holstered his gun and bent to tend to his friend.

David stirred then sat bolt up right startling Craig.  Craig grabbed the man’s shirt and pulled it open revealing a Kevlar vest underneath.

“Wimp” Craig said.

“Alive wimp” David said through gritted teeth.

“Interested now” David continued.

“Mildly” Craig responded

Obama has the Colic; but Gives Me the Gas

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

I’m sure everyone noticed the look on Obama’s face at the shout of “Liar” from the gallery.  Looks like he has a bit of colic doesn’t he and its no wonder considering how babied and coddled he’s been for the last few years.  How dare someone interrupt him while he’s proselytizing...oops I mean lying…oh I’m sorry I meant while he was spreading propaganda.

Then again who are we to question him or his policies? Obviously we sheople are in no need of explanation nor should we have an opinion concerning how he moves our country forward.  After all he doesn’t work for us, he was elected to rule us…right?

This has been the common attitude of the Democratic Party for years now, which is to say the American people are too stupid to know what we need so we should just stop the fuss and let them go about their jobs.  This is a country of the politician, by the politician and for the furthering of the career of the politician. 

The American people are just fodder.

When Papa Smurf… uh I mean Barack Hussein Obama stands before a “pulpit” his words have all the clarity of someone saying “I know you are but what am I” with a little hint of “because I said so”.  He assures the American people the policies he proposes for our country are just the shot in the arm we need…but how Barack.

“Hello My name is Brak Obama and I’m gonna sing you a little song. Reform reform reform I love reform.  Take what’s broken and break it more.  Reform is an excellent form of protein I… love… beans dippy do”

That’s about the gist of what we got the other night.  Ok, so granted it was presented a little more charismatically than that but the content had no more substance.  He simply repeated our concerns then said “that’s not what this bill is about”.  He belittled the concerns and the forethought of the American people without presenting any facts, without giving us anything to truly alleviate our fears.  He simply said “don’t worry about it…I got this”.

He’s not lying to say his bill isn’t blatantly written to give health care to aliens or to support abortions or to kill the elderly but he absolutely has not dealt with the holes in the programs that could be and will be exploited to lead that direction. 

I keep hearing pundits screaming that we need universal health care.  Somebody explain to me how this is going to solve the problems we have in the health care system.  Issuance is what has made health care so ungodly expensive to begin with.  Do you not think that a state run system has the potential to make that exponentially worse?  If you don’t go get a tack hammer and hit yourself on the forehead until you wake up.

Now raise your hand if you’re surprised by what we have in leadership right now….

If you have you hand up then you might need to borrow that tack hammer from the guy next to you because you’ve been sleepwalking the last three years.

Obama is nothing more and nothing less than exactly what he was billed as; a far left talking head.

Is he a socialist? Well if it looks like a socialist, acts like a socialist, talks like a socialist then by golly gee whiz that sucker is a socialist.  Don’t see it?  Two words for you; General Motors. 

But what does that matter right?  He’s still the Obamassiah.  Why would we ever question his direction?

Fact of the matter is folks, those who loved him from the beginning are still going to publically kiss his well shined dairy air even though they know they really messed up by electing this joker.  Why?  Because the need to not be wrong has always over ruled good sense.

Obama is a Mickey Mouse president with a Mickey Mouse congress that will spend the next four years messaging the works of Carl Marx into the minds of our young people while demonizing anyone who dares oppose his policies.

This is why I wept the night of the election.  This is why I’ve been mostly silent with political writings.  I screamed for two solid years, so did others…some much more aggressively than myself.  In the end the American people didn’t care. 

Why?

Because much of our populace have become colicky, whining, screaming, crying, infants who want nothing more than to have a sugar tit shoved in their mouths and expecting someone to wipe their rears for them.  It makes me sick to my stomach.  So far the only way I could possibly give respect to our new administration is with a twenty one flatulent salute.  I know that soundscrude but the truth is sometimes that’s what it takes to get someone to pay attention.

Mr. Obama may have a little colic because of the opposition to his policies but he’s giving me the intestinal distress.

© 2009 all rights reserved

September 11^th: Hanging up on the wake up call

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

Last year marked the seventh year anniversary of one of the darkest days in the history of our country.  As I wrote last year, seven is the number of completion and it seems that our country has begun turning the page.  In the days leading up to the eighth year anniversary the silence has been deafening.  There have been a few sparse reflections here and there.  The NFL honored families who lost loved ones on flight 93 last night in the season opener of the football season but even that seemed more like an asterisk to me,  a sort of a “hey lets remember for a second but hey how bout them Steelers”.

I guess I can’t expect everyone to keep the memories of that day so avid in their minds.  Even if it was such a terribly traumatic day that much of the country dropped to their knees and prayed even when they didn’t believe in prayer.  That doesn’t mean I’m ok with it.

As I stated last year at this time, eight is the number of new beginnings and we have that now.  A new beginning…

The cycle has closed the loop and we are beginning again.  The wake up call has been hung up. Really it was hung up a year ago. 

On this day of infamy eight years ago our attention was wrenched away from a marching ant lifestyle of “get to give to get” mentality in which we worked to live and lived to work.  For a few days we were shaken from our robotic lifestyles and remembered what it meant to be human.  We cried, we prayed, we comforted…our spirits rose, as it were from the cloud of smoke, from the fire, from the steel and broken glass, and from the rubble that left three thousand of our fellow humans dead.

We’ve spent a lot of time over the years pointing fingers of blame.  We’ve fought wars and lest we forget…we are still fighting wars as a result of that day.  From the after math political vultures have emerged to capitalize on the pain, anger, frustration, and fear of the people.  This is what became of the legacy of that terrible day; compounding the utter horror of it.

September 11^th 2001 happened because we were a sleeping giant.  We were lulled to sleep by prosperity and by the droning political pied piper voice of a government that had become far too big, too fat, too apathetic and far far too arrogant.  We were the champion, the protector who laid down under a tree to nap.

Now we are posed to do it all again…

Once again the pied piper “because I said so” droning hypnotic voice echoes from the white house, and from capital hill.  Once again the people have found trenches of apathy and self serving mentality to bury our heads in.  The results will not be any different.

I would have loved to write a different kind of memorial today.  I would have loved to have joined my fellow Americans in a moment of silence for those lost and in a triumphant shout for the victory gained in their honor.  Instead I feel that I should remind everyone of the bump in the night.

With all the fingers being pointed around at who and what is responsible for the tragedy of 9/11, shouldn’t we take a good hard look in the mirror today?  Yes it was the evil men who flew the planes that killed so many of our fellow human beings, yes it was the dark destructive malice of the heart of those who would rather kill than create that are to blame for the acts but it has been our inability to call evil what it is that has propagated and facilitated their plans.  We are in very real danger of this happening again.

Not only has our country forgotten the tenacity of terrorism but so has the rest of the world.  The release of the Lockerby terrorist in the last few weeks has proven this.   The terrorist of the world have done what they needed to do to win the war though they’ve lost most every other battle…they have out lasted our resolve.  Quietly they continue to plot, quietly they continue to prepare…while we spend out time reconstructing our government to become even bigger, even fatter, even more apathetic and even more arrogant.

The phone is ringing today America, do we let the answering machine in Washington answer it or do we take responsibility for our lives and pick up the phone.  Today as we remember, let’s remember it all.  Let’s talk about those who were lost and those who died to make sure we didn’t lose more in the same way but let’s also remember that the fight has only just begun. 

There is a major difference between ..Pearl Harbor.. and 9/11.  ..Pearl Harbor.. was a military operation carried out against a military location, with a military target.  At the end of WWII when ....Japan.... surrendered, the threat had been neutralized.  September 11^th 2001 was a terrorist operation carried out against unarmed, untrained civilians, in a civilian location and targeted the heart of our way of life.  There is no organized military to fight against where the rules of engagement are clearly defined.  There is no battle field to take the confrontation to.  This is a war fought in the alleyways, back rooms, in our own back yards, in our neighbor’s back yards all across the world.  The weapons are IED’s, plastic knives, and terror. 

Am I saying we should be paranoid…heaven forbid but a little more diligences is called for.

Some will say I’m an alarmist and completely out of line.  The truth is, I pray that I am completely wrong.  I guess only time will tell.  Nevertheless these words have been playing in my mind for over a month now:

Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.

© 2009 all rights reserved

Team Bête Noire

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

Chapter 1: Pandora’s Box

The city…a cold place of concrete, steel, and glass…full of darkness and places for things that go bump in the night to hide.  The streets are permeated with the life and death dance between those who have and those who want to take for themselves.  Amongst them the misfortunate, the disillusioned, and those who have just made more than their share of bad decisions sometimes fall victim.  Sometimes the difference between them all is indiscernible as one takes on the persona of the other.  Through it all there are eyes that watch… both for good and for evil……

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not sure about this Dr. Wilhiam” Dr. Patrick Niles said nervously as Dr. Edgar Wilhiam slowly placed a vile into a cryogenic container.

“What is there to not be sure of Patrick? Honestly you young people are so high strung these days” Wilhiam replied.

“I can’t believe you aren’t as anxious about all this as I am.  You know what you are holding in your hands better than anyone” ....Niles.... retorted.

Dr. Wilhiam closed the container and sealed it before placing an electronic lock on the container.

“Yes, Patrick I know very well what we have done here” Dr. Wilhiam replied as he turned back towards his younger colleague.

“First of all, I’m not sure I want any credit for helping to create that abomination.  I’m begging you Edgar…destroy it now.  If it ever got out…it would be like opening Pandora’s Box. Listen to me Edgar we can have all the data purged from the system in less than a minute.  All you have to do is say the word” Dr. Niles said nervously.

“But why would I do that” Wilhiam laughed

“I would think that would be obvious” ....Niles.... replied

“Are you so short sided Patrick?  Can you not see the great potential we now hold in our hands” Wilhiam said; a wild light flickered in the man’s eyes.

“What potential?  The potential to kill millions” ....Niles.... replied frantically.

“That is only the beginning Patrick.  Think of the power we have in our hands.  A few drops in the water supply and the world will give us anything we desire.  Think about it.  You want women, money, cars, those silly electronic games you young people seem so fanatical about? Just name it and its yours” Wilhiam said condescendingly.

“Have you lost your mind” ....Niles.... asked as he began to back away.

“Do you have a more noble aspiration” Wilhiam retorted as he began to follow ....Niles.... as he the young man backed up.

“How about world peace?  It’s there ....Niles....…right there in that container.  Maybe you aren’t so noble. Maybe you want a war…a special war between any country you’d like.  How about ....Switzerland.... verses ....Haiti.... or ..Guam.. verses ....Russia.....  You push the buttons…you can redraw the lines of the world’s nations.  Its all there…everything…every desire…every lust…every good deed…every evil aspiration….there for the choosing boy.  Don’t you get it yet?  What do you think I’ve been doing for the last 6 years” Wilhiam gloated.

“I thought we were working on cures…on things that would heal” ....Niles.... exclaimed as he backed into a low counter behind him.

“The best way to heal is to purge the infected…the corrupted…the mutated and the rotten” Wilhiam replied with an annoyed and gruff tone.

“I won’t let you do this” ....Niles.... said as he felt for something behind him that could be used as a weapon.

Wilhiam shook his head softly.

“I expected as much Patrick” Wilhiam replied as he reached into his lab coat and pulled a small capped syringe.

....Niles....’ hand found something from the counter; a glass graduated cylinder.  ....Niles.... swung it toward Wilhiam shattering it against the side of the man’s head.  Wilhiam turned his head with the impact and stumbled back giving ....Niles.... the chance to try and escape.  As he turned however he was met by two darkly clad figures.  Before he could react the two figures caught him in strong arms and held him tight.  ....Niles.... felt the prick of a syringe plunge into his side.

“Good night sweet prince” Wilhiam whispered in the young man’s ear.

Mean while in a diner across town…

“You don’t look so good” April Ryder said as she approached with a fresh pot of hot coffee.

The man sitting in the booth hardly acknowledged her other than to hold up his coffee cup.  April took his cup and filled it before sitting it back down again.  The woman looked around as if to see if anyone was watching her then sat in the booth directly across from the man.

His appearance was shaggy.  His hair was disheveled and he was a few days on the other side of a razor; as the stubble on his face was dark.  His eyes were rimed in red indicating a lack of sleep.  He wore a button up white shirt that was tucked into a pair of black trouser.  All of it covered by a long dark trench coat that looked like it had seen many winters.

“Why don’t you go home Craig? Get some sleep” April said as she leaned down toward the man.

“Isn’t there someone else you could bother” Craig Falcon replied as he turned his head to look through the window and brought the coffee cup to his lips.

“Seriously Craig I’m worried about you.  Since you lost your job you’ve…”April trailed off from speaking as Craig turned his gaze to the woman with a look that cautioned her from further speaking.

“Fine, I don’t know why I even bother” April replied then stood up and stomped off.

Craig turned his gaze back toward the window.  It was beginning to drizzle giving an even more dreary backdrop to the night.  Out of work and out of luck Craig had no reason to go home…to sleep.  He couldn’t have even if he wanted to.  The nightmares would rob him of any rest he would hope to gain.  Instead he’d rather sit in the diner and remember.  Remember when she was there across from him and remember when he was someone else.

He pulled a flask from his overcoat pocket, opened it, and then emptied the remaining contents into the coffee cup.

“Here’s to self medication” he whispered to himself as he sipped the liquid from the cup.

As he finished the drink his eyes were called to two men who had just come through the door. One of the men wore a baggy jacket with a king of diamonds embroidered on the back.  The other wore a sports jacket with a “Red Sox” logo on the lapel.  The men seemed in good spirits as they sat at the bar and ordered cold drinks.

Normally Craig wouldn’t have given the two another thought but something about them peaked his interest.  Apparently he wasn’t the only one as a man and women in a booth close to the door seemed to be watching them as well. One of the two men took a sip from his drink then got up and walked to the restroom at the back of the dinner. 

The dinner was an old fifties style eatery with stainless steel skin on the out side.  There was only one aisle, a few booths, and the bar (the biggest part of which traveled the length of the building).  The floors were black and white tile and the walls were adorned with records and black and white stills of actors or musicians from days gone by.

Craig turned sideways in his seat so that he could watch the restroom door as well as the man still sitting at the bar. Something felt weird.  There was something on the air. The instincts he had developed over ten years of putting his butt on the line for the city were now screaming at him that trouble was on the horizon.

When the man finally emerged from the restroom he turned directly to the old fifty’s style jukebox that occupied the space between the men’s and women’s restrooms.  After the sound of a few coins echoed through the scarcely populated dinner, the sound of Pink Floyd’s “Brain Damage” began to play. 

As the songs first lyrics began to be vocalized the man at the bar stood up and pulled a pistol from his jacket pocket.  Craig’s peripheral vision picked up the man who had started the music also pulling a gun to cover the back portion of the dinner.

“Don’t anyone get any bad ideas. Be easy and this will be easy” the man at the bar said then backed toward the door before turning the deadbolt lock.

“Everyone stays quiet and cooperative and no one ends up in the o-bits” the man continued.

“First things first, the register if you please” the man said then pointed his gun towards April who had found herself behind the counter near the register.

April quickly pushed a few buttons but the register wouldn’t open.  A look of terror overcame her features.

“Don’t play with me lady” the man shouted then fired a shot behind her into a glass case that contained not so freshly made pies.

April shrieked and covered her ears as tears of fear ran her mascara down her cheeks.  The man let out an exasperated growl then bounded over the counter; knocking over a ketchup bottle and napkin holder.  April crouched in the floor and held her hands up as if to knock away an incoming bullet. The man grabbed her and pulled her out of the way before knocking her to the floor with a hard back hand.  In frustration he began beating the register with his fist until the drawer slid open.  Greedily he began to stuff his pockets.

Craig watched silently.  His ire had been aroused at the man’s handling of the waitress.  It was one thing to rob the dinner…they had insurance and would probably make money in the deal…hurting an innocent was another thing all together.

“Hurry up fool and get their wallets” the man turned and shouted at his partner.

Craig’s senses heightened as the man behind him approached.  He caught a glimpse of the man and woman in the booth near the door.  Something on their faces seemed to almost encourage him to act.  They themselves had the look of action written across their posture.

“You heard the man.  Cough it up” the young man in the red sox jacket shouted and pressed the gun against his head.

“Go ahead” Craig announced with amusement.

“I’ll do it mister. I mean it” the young man said and pressed harder against Craig’s temple.

“So do it.  It’ll be a whole lot easier to get my wallet, -which consequently is empty- from a bloody corpse” Craig said as he began to stand up slowly.

The young man kept the gun against his head but seemed at a loss about what to do next. Craig turned to look the boy in the eye.

“Come on kid.  Pull the trigger.  You’ll love it.  You’ll see a spray exit the back of my head” Craig explained as he moved ever closer to the young man causing him to back away up the aisle.

“Its like a firework…accept with blood” Craig continued with a smile.

“Do’em man” the other robber shouted.

“Yeah come on and do’em” Craig taunted.

“Don’t make me do this man” the young man was nearly in tears as he fought with himself to pull the trigger.

“Wait, wait” Craig said then put up his hands in front of him holding the index finger of each hand up.

The young man’s face regained a little confidence.

“Don’t shoot yet, this is my favorite part” Craig said and began to sing along with the juke box.

“And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too” Craig sang “I'll see you on the dark side of the moon”

As the young man stood in the midst of a pool of confusion Craig grabbed the boy’s wrist and leaned his head away from the barrel.  The sound of a gun shot reported through the dinner; the bullet only missing Craig’s face by a fraction of an inch.  The heat from the explosion that expelled the bullet burned his nose.   Craig gave little heed to the discomfort as he contorted the young man’s wrist backwards in an impossible angle while turning the barrel toward the man behind the counter.

Craig felt a pop when the boy’s wrist joint succumbed to the pressure. The sound of a gun shot followed. The man behind the counter had fired toward him and struck his own partner in the back.  Two more rapid fire reports filled the air with bullets that struck home in the second robber’s chest; dropping him in a heap behind the counter. Leaving Craig standing alone in the midst of destruction.

Everything was silent in Craig’s mind.  The sound of the gunfire, the jukebox, April’s screams of fear all faded out.  It was as if the world had stopped.  His only sensation was the feel of the pistol grip in his hand.  He lowered his arm then dropped the gun on the floor before stepping over the young man who lay bleeding at his feet. 

He said nothing as he moved.  He just walked.  He passed the couple near the door and noticed a strange look on their faces.  They weren’t shocked, they weren’t scared, they simply looked focused. 

Craig stepped through the door into the rain feeling his heart beat for the first time in months.

“Craig Falcon” a female voice asked from behind.

Craig didn’t acknowledge it. He simply turned up the side walk and began walking.  The sound of four feet following sent a pang of aggravation up his spine.  He turned quickly.

“Craig Falcon” the woman asked again.

“Maybe, maybe not.  Who the heck are you” he replied.

“Just call me Colleen B. and this is my associate Tyler M.” the woman explained then held out a business card.

Craig took it grudgingly but kept his focus on the two people in front of him.

“What do you want” Craig asked.

“Just a moment of your time, that’s all” Colleen explained.

“You have it…wait…now its gone” Craig said then turned up the sidewalk again.

“We’ll be in touch when your in better spirits” Tyler M said as Craig walked away.

“Your in a for a long wait then” Craig muttered before looking down to take a quick look at the card.

Team Bête Noire

Craig turned it over looking for a phone number or something but the three words were the only markings on the card.  He stopped and turned slightly; looking over his shoulder.  The two were gone without a trace. 

He looked back at the card as the sound of police sirens pierced through the rain, and then flipped the card into the street with two fingers before walking away.

A Day in the Life of Harvey Walbanger

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

Part 4: The Jury is Still Out

..4:35 pm..

....Harvey....’s world was spiraling out of control.  He wasn’t sure what to do next…if anything.  In a way who ever had taken out the man in black had sort of done him a favor but what if he was next on the list.  What if the person who had strung up Mr. Black had known ....Harvey.... was coming to meet him?

All the "what ifs" made his stomach nauseous. Worse yet he had now dragged Margie into it.  He searched his thoughts for a way out, some sort of plan of action and came up empty.  ....Harvey.... leaned his elbow on the arm rest then laid his head in his hand.  His body ached and he wanted to rest.  Nothing made sense to him anymore.  This morning he had awakened as Harvey Walbanger a man with an unfortunate name and even more unfortunate circumstances.  Doomed to a life of mediocrity, a man who held all the interest of snail racing…loveless…friendless…invisible.  All that ended with the simple spilling of his coffee.

Suddenly he began to chuckle.  At first it was only a slight catch in his throat almost like stifling a sneeze.  Then it came a bit easier until he was finally laughing out loud.

“What is it ....Harvey...., what’s so funny” Margie asked as the contagiousness of his laughter spilled on to her and she began to chuckle involuntarily.

“I don’t know.  I really shouldn’t be laughing but I just can’t help it” he answered.

..5:30 pm..

“Here we are” Margie said as she put the car in park and turned off the ignition

“So we are…but where is here” he asked.

“My apartment of course” she replied.

“Margie, I don’t know about his maybe we shouldn’t be here.  Someone could be following” he responded.

“Its ok ....Harvey...., I was careful.  No one is following and you need to rest.  You can’t go home.  You’re stuck with me” she said and flashed her beautiful blue eyes and that smile that he would have followed into the grave.

“Just for a little while…Just until I figure out what to do next” he said.

She nodded agreement then exited the car.  ....Harvey.... followed her up the steps and into the building.  Her apartment was on the fifth floor.  The elevator ride felt awkward.  Despite being the only two in the elevator car, she stood very close to him.  Any other time and under any other circumstances he would have been thrilled but for some reason he just couldn’t relax.  It had to be the circumstances.  He was still just shaken up by all he’d been through.

When they reached the door of the room he almost lost his nerve and turned around but before he could retreat she had pulled him inside.  As the door shut behind him he turned and was met with another kiss, this time a bit more gently.

Margie pulled away and smiled at him.

“Sit down and I’ll be right back with a basin of cool water so you can wash your face a little.  I bet it will sooth those bruises some” she said then scampered off.

....Harvey.... made his way into the living area.  The house was neat and tidy with several porcelain what-nots adorning the shelves.  Each of them seemed meticulous arranged.  There were bears, lions, wolves, jackals and foxes all staring back at him as if looking at lunch.  Funny, ....Harvey.... had never thought of Margie as the kind of person who’d be into the dark side of the animal kingdom.  He had always pictured her as a girly girl.  Someone who might have teddy bears piled up on her bed or something.

As he sat down something caught his eye.  A box sat in the corner.

Kilimanjaro Freight

....Harvey.... came to his feet and slowly crossed the room.  He bent and picked up the small box and held it up to make sure he was seeing it correctly.  With one eye swollen shut he could have been mistaken….oh how he wanted to be mistaken.

“Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened” Margie said behind him.

....Harvey.... slowly turned to meet the eyes that had always held such allure for him.  Margie held a gun pointed in his direction.

“I guess I should.  I mean how many times does a person get such an adventure” ....Harvey.... said solemnly.

“Oh ....Harvey....…poor, poor, dull, disillusioned soul that you are.  Its too bad you had to figure things out before you could punctuate your adventure with the gratuitous bed room scene I had planed for you but oh well, you’re probably too much of a gentleman to have let that happen anyway…aren’t you” she said with a smile.

“I’d like to think that I am” ....Harvey.... said as he tossed the box aside “so what happens now”

“You die of course” she said.

“Of course” ....Harvey.... sighed.

“At least tell me why” he asked.

“Your last request” she asked coyly.

“May as well” he replied.

“Very well, I’ll tell you” she said eagerly.

“Baker, you would know him as the man in black had been trying to play me for a fool.  You see he worked for me as does Granger” she began.

“And Ellison” ....Harvey.... asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous ....Harvey.....  Ellison is an idiot.  He wouldn’t know a dollar from a doughnut hole.  But he makes a great security blanket” she answered.

“I’m not sure I understand” he replied.

“It’s simple.  I use Ellison’s name, addresses, phone numbers, the whole nine yards.  I have it set up where my meetings are always in the cover of darkness or I use a voice distorter when I make calls.  All of it routed through Ellison’s own office and home phone lines.  He doesn’t even have a clue he has become a human puppet.   I’ve been using his rinky dink little operation to launder money for the last ten years.  Usually I get the ledgers but someone screwed up and started sending them to you.  Up until today I had been able to head them off and make the changes but this time my little weasel assistant Michele decided to get wise.  I knew she was hugged up on Baker but didn’t think she was stupid enough to try and put it to me.  I’m telling you Harvey you just can’t trust people anymore” she said as she began to pace and wave the gun around a bit whimsically.

“So Michele from records was in on it too” ....Harvey.... asked.

“Of course…and Mike in accounting, Greg in purchasing, Leta in accounts payable.  An operation like this needs a staff.  Fortunately for them they know their role and the sizeable cash bonus they get each year keeps them happy.  Michele just decided she needed a little bit more than everyone else.  Let that be a lesson to you, greed doesn’t pay” Margie explained.

“Where do I come in on this” ....Harvey.... asked.

“Patience ....Harvey.....  I’d think you’d like this story to play out a little long considering at the end of it I’m going to kill you” Margie said as she pointed the gun back towards him.

“Now where was I? Oh yes Baker.  Baker knew that a shipment of coke was overdue in ....Toronto.... so he figured he’d make a play, using you as the bait. Baker didn’t realize the shipment finally made it before you, his little pigeon could get to Granger.  In honesty you’re lucky to be alive right now.  Granger lost three men getting that shipment through.  He’s not one to take these things lightly” Margie said with a smile.

“So this is about drugs” ....Harvey.... asked.

“Don’t be so short sighted” Margie exclaimed.

“Money” ....Harvey.... asked.

“Money, drugs, power…come on ....Harvey.... has your mundane life been so devoid of imagination.  I control it all, life and death, wealth and poverty…I decide who gets high, who gets lucky…I decide when the sun comes up and when it goes down….I am god” she said triumphantly.

....Harvey.... felt his insides twist.  Suddenly the woman of his dreams had become a nightmare.

“You’re sick Margie” ....Harvey.... said solemnly and moved toward the window.

“Stop moving ....Harvey.... I don’t want to shoot you yet” Margie shouted.

....Harvey.... kept moving.  Margie ran ahead and cut him off just before he reached the window.

“Where do you think you’re going? I say when and how someone dies and I can’t have you die here.  You have to go back to the office.  You see, you were real distraught over losing  your job so you snuck back in and killed yourself sitting at your cubical.  Think about it ....Harvey.....  You’ll be a legend…immortal.  For years special train dealing with the disgruntled with be created in your honor.  It will be the Harvey Walbanger procedure for dealing with the mentally fragile” she chuckled.

“No” ....Harvey.... answered back.

“No what” she asked.

“No I’m not going to go along with this.  I’m either going to jump from this window or make you shoot me, one or the other.  You see, I’m going to decide this one.  Not because I’m god but because I have a choice and I’m not going to give that up to you” ....Harvey.... said with a tear in his eye.

Margie held the gun toward his head.

“I could have loved you so much Margie.  No, that’s no true.  I could have love the person you could have been” he said.

“You’re pathetic Walbanger.  What a perfect name for you.  All your life you’ve been banging you head against the wall and even now at the end you still just don’t get it do you” Margie exclaimed with laughter.

“I guess I don’t…but I do understand gravity” ....Harvey.... said as two tears broke lose from his eyes and ran down his cheek.

“What’s that suppose to mean….” Margie started to say just as ....Harvey.... shoved her as hard as he could.

The woman’s light weight frame literally flew through the air and crashed into the window behind her.  Before ....Harvey.... even realized what he had done Margie disappeared through the window.

....Harvey.... looked down at her crumpled broken body.  Maybe she was right about him maybe he was doomed to bang his head against the wall.  Maybe he’d never understand why he had lived such a boring, plain vanilla life for so long but then again maybe she was wrong. 

Maybe he’d know the answer tomorrow but for now the jury was still out….

....Harvey.... slipped out of the building and into the alley way.  The future in front of him had never looked so vague yet so limitless.  As he walked away and the sounds of sirens pieced the air he looked into the blue sky and could almost see her eyes…almost.

© 2009 all rights reserved

A Day in the Life of Harvey Walbanger

By: “Timothy” Fred Parks

Part 3: A Snake in the Grass

..2:00 pm..

....Harvey.... felt like he had been run over by a truck as he came to.  He tried to force his eyes open but found one of them completely swollen shut.  His mouth was thick and salty with blood.  He sat up and spat.  Blood and at least one tooth hit the ground in front of him.  He pulled himself to his feet, thankful that none of his bones seemed broken though he wasn’t sure he’d know the difference from all the pain he was feeling. 

What had gone wrong?  It was supposed to be a simply pick up.  He would take the package to the man in black, proving that Ellison and Granger were skimming and that would be that.  Ellison would get what he had coming to him, Walbanger gets paid and everyone goes back to doing what they do.

How naïve he was to think that could be the outcome…

He had no choice now.  He had to meet the man in black.  Maybe the beating he’d taken would be enough proof for him to make his hit on Ellison and Granger safe.  Still he felt a sense of foreboding that screamed to him to run.  He would have run …had it not been for the man in black’s warning.

....Harvey.... looked around and determined he was only about a block away from the freight company.  His car should be parked just on the other side of the corner.  Slowly he limped his way in that general direction when suddenly a car pulled up next to him.

“Oh my goodness ....Harvey.....  Are you ok” a familiar voice exclaimed a blonde woman jumped from her car and rushed to him.

“Margie” Harvey questioned as she led him to her vehicle.

“Who did this to you? You poor thing” she continued as she opened the passenger side door to assist him in.

For a moment he almost forgot where he was and what had happened.  He wanted to sit down.  He wanted her to take him somewhere and nurse him back to health, but as these thoughts flooded in he suddenly feared for her life.

“I’m ok Margie.  You need to get out of here” ....Harvey.... protested.

“I’m not leaving without you.  I need to get you to a doctor” she responded and tried once again to get him into her car.

“No.  I can’t Margie.  Please, I have to be somewhere” ....Harvey.... said but before he could continue to protest dizziness over took him and he swooned.

“I’ll take you then.  Just sit down” she said and helped him into the seat.

Margie hurried around to the driver’s side and in only moments the two of them were zipping down the street.

“Margie, I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate this but I can’t let you go where I’m going” ....Harvey.... said as they rounded the corner.

“Does this have anything to do with the ledger” Margie asked.

....Harvey.... didn’t answer.  He didn’t know what to say.  He was afraid she would find herself in the same boat with him.  Funny, for years he had wanted something to talk about with the woman, and now he had no choice but to remain silent…for her sake.

“Look ....Harvey.... I know something is going on.  I ran the numbers and came out with the same thing you did.  I think something illegal is going on.  Let me help you” she continued.

“It’s nothing like that Margie, really.  I mean come on.  This isn’t a movie” ....Harvey.... replied.

“So what happened to you then and why won’t you let me take you to the doctor” she responded.

“It was a misunderstanding and I have a job interview, that’s all.  Mr. Ellison fired me this morning” he explained.

“....Harvey.... I’ve known you for six years and you’ve never been one to be in trouble.  I want to help you but you have to talk to me” Margie said.

“It’s complicated” he replied.

Suddenly Margie pulled the car over and killed the engine.  She turned and looked ....Harvey.... in the eye.

“Complicated like how?  You dress in drag, squeeze the toothpaste in the middle, chew your toe nails, have a shoe fetish….what.  What do I have to do to get close to you Harvey” Margie’s voice was much more aggressive than ....Harvey.... had ever known.

As he was trying his best to understand what was happening she leaned over and kissed him hard.  ....Harvey.... pushed her back slightly.  His face hurt so bad but her touch had been more welcomed than anything he ever dreamed possible, nevertheless something felt wrong.

“I’m sorry Margie.  You don’t know how sorry I am… but I can’t do this right now” he said and reached for the door handle in attempt to get out.

-thump- the door locked before he could open the door

“No.  No I’m not letting you go until you at least let me take you to where you wanted to go.  After that I’ll be out of you life for good” she said as she turned the car key and restarted the engine.

“Margie…I…” ....Harvey.... fought for the words but couldn’t find any.

This was turning into the worst day of his life and he wasn’t even sure if he have a chance to try for another. 

..3:30 pm..

Reluctantly ....Harvey.... had given Margie the instruction to the building ....Harvey.... was supposed to meet the man in black.  He made her stop a block away and let him out so she wouldn’t be seen with him.  She offered to wait for him but he insisted that she leave.  He waited until she was well out of sight before he turned and made his way up the street.

The building was an unoccupied rental property on the east end of town.  Apparently the building had once been a sports bar or club of some sort. The broken sign that still hung over the doorway read “Keeping Score: Bar and Grill”.  Boards kept the window from being broken by vandals and a bar kept the door from being opened. 

....Harvey.... wondered how he was going to get in.  He slowly made his way around the building; doing so as clandestine as possible in the broad daylight.  Around the side of the building a service door stood open; the wooden barrier that had been in place was neatly stacked to the side.

Cautiously he stepped inside.  The room was pitch black.  With all the windows and doors boarded it was like walking into a cave.  ....Harvey....’s pulse raced.

“Hello” he whispered.

No answer returned.  Slowly he entered the room sideways to keep the door in sight and possibly give him the chance to bolt if something or someone jumped at him from the darkness.  ....Harvey.... moved deliberately, making sure every step was on sure footing before proceeding.  It was then he saw a light through a crack in an interior door.  As he approached he pushed the door as quietly as possible. A battery powered lantern lay on its side just beyond the door.

....Harvey.... bent and picked up the light.  A noise from a scurrying rodent startled him and caused him to back up into something heavy.  He swung around on his heals.  Hanging from the rafters was the man in black…lifeless.  ....Harvey.... fell back on the floor then scooted on his rear end back through the door.  Someone had double crossed not only him but also the man in black.

As quickly as he could he pushed to his feet and ran toward the light shining in from the door he had entered from.  As he made it out of the building he could see a car turning the corner and pulling up in front of the building.

....Harvey.... hurried as fast as his beat up body would allow and jumped into the passenger’s side of the car.

“Go” He shouted.

“What happened” Margie asked.

“Just go” he shouted again.

Margie floored the accelerator and the car lurched forward and sped off

To be continued…

© 2009 all rights reserved