Man, my thinkin' was we could build a story on-line. Then all of a sudden I have several complete short stories sent in. Unless you indicate you want a name on your story, I'll leave it out. All about respect. First story, 'In a Wheelchair Now' is three pages long. I'll add several paragraphs a day. Enjoy! I took the liberty to correct problems when posting.
I took a left when I
usually walked straight to the diner. I’d give you the name but it would keep
things simpler if that wasn’t the case. Besides, readers will decide if this is
the real deal or just more bullshit in their sorry lives. My formal education
got going that day. I sat in a chair bolt upright as if that was a requirement.
Only had one real job interview in my life and that one was in the bar of the
diner. The recruiting officer was all military, spit and polish as they say. He
was offering me honor and a uniform and the adoring look from perfect
strangers. Best part of the spiel was I was going to get paid. I would have
real insurance, money for a school I wanted to go to and girls. Soldier boy
didn’t go and tell me that last part leaving the figuring to me. I signed on
the dotted line not knowing what price I was going to pay or how much I was
worth.
Can’t figure it out and
I never will. Dad died just after I came along. Lookin’ back now it’s plenty
easy to see it for what it was. I didn’t have shit and it didn’t look like
anything was going to be in much of a hurry to land in my airport. Didn’t know at
first just how screwed I was. Others had plenty but I was told not to worry. I
didn’t need any of it. I walked or rode my tapped together cycle to school.
Never had a car. All I had was a job. Started with dish washing before my
promotion to Short Order Cook (without a raise). The place I worked was having
money problems so I’d have to forget a raise till things changed. I did and the
place stayed around. Even now it’s still going.
False advertising was
one of my first crimes now that I think about it. Got plenty of complements on
the ‘beer’ battered fish though. Paying customers loved the stuff. Water for
the batter and beer for me. Worked like a charm. I’d feed the dinner rush and
down the beer during clean-up leaving me with a nice buzz for the trip down the
tracks to my place on the westside. School wasn’t looking to offer me much by
way of opportunities. I even knew that much. Councilor told me I best come up
with a skill like carpentry or welding. He also explained young men like me do
good with that sort of thing. College and them kind of opportunities were for
the kind of kids who drove to school in cars and not on taped together cycles.
2nd Installmenst
The pursuit of the
three R’s never struck me as sensible. Nothing but bullshit to me. I saw it for
the lie it was. Besides, only one of the skills started with an ‘R’. Reading,
Writing and Arithmetic. The other lie involved the American Dream
what-ever-that was. We were always told it was something about opportunity and
the ability to pursue that dream. All you had to do was work. The harder you
worked the more opportunities you had. Why, if you worked hard enough you could
even be President. Really. Anyone can come up with a notion, work their ass off
and presto, they are what they set out to be. I believed it hook line and
sinker until I ran smack dab into the barrier called money. It was about this
time I owned up to another little problem. All I wanted was to be out of range
of my ma’s voice and to sleep in if I got the notion to do it. Them two didn’t
go hand in hand. If I slept in the voice always got louder. It got so loud one
day I ended up doing something about it.
3rd Installment
I didn’t figure it out
in basic. Came up with friends and it didn’t matter what cloths I wore because
we all wore the same thing. I even lied some to be more than the fry cook I
left behind. Not much though. We all got through basic and dreaming about I and
I. That is intercourse and intoxication for those who don’t know.
The truth didn’t really
start sinking in until it was too late. The roof was doing its own version of
sweating after baking in the sun all day. The sun was downing behind the sand
and nothing was really on the move. Nothing like bombs or a shot happening. We
are laid up there not talking much. I’m spotting and he is scoping some with
his big ass scope on the trusty M24. Just hearing it snap a shell home is
reassuring. It will do the job and keep us safe. I don’t really think about
back home and what I escaped much. Guess you could say I was safe from the
diner bigtime. I was going to learn really fast just how wrong I was for
thinking the safe word. Actually that is what the military had purchased from
me. My safety.
The roof stayed
plenty hot even after it got around to getting dark. No breeze. Nothing but
more sweat. We would be on the move before long. Looking. Always looking but
none of us could ever figure out the why of the deal. We never found nothing
worth finding. Not when I was around anyways. What’s worth finding that’s worth
a life anyways? I don’t know what it was. Sweat probably though a helmet could
mess with you seeing things. You would be sweeping slowly from left to right
and your helmet would slip down on your face enough to bug you some. I watched
him take his off and wipe his forehead with a sleeve some. He had already wiped
his face with that sleeve and it was wet even though stuff dried plenty fast in
this place. I remember the dog bark from what sounded like coming from a mile
away or something. Otherwise dark and getting darker and silence. We weren’t
talking because we had already talked enough about everything and nothing. It
was just the way it was. I probably would not have liked Eye much if I had to
hang out with him anywhere else on the planet earth. He was always talking
about what a shot he was. Constantly but I get it now. That kind of talk makes
you feel safe in a bad place.
4th Installment
The heat wasn’t giving
up fast enough for Eye. That’s the name we gave him. When he showed-up he was
Mike and before he left he was Eye. I didn’t have a whole lot figured out for
when I got back state side. I figured it was how it was. Something would happen
and I would be doing something with myself whether I liked it or not. Eye tell
me that not good at all. You don’t come up with something to go home for you
might end up staying put in the military. That kind of shit could get you
killed. It was why he became a sniper in the first place. Give him a better
shot at not getting shot. He always laughed when he said that. Yes sir he told
me. Figure it out.