Max running off. Ray blowing up. Henry was losing focus. He pinched his nose between his eyes to clear his mind.
McKinley was still in his duty car. He wondered if that would go sideways too. The car, diagonal in a handicap spot had McKinley waiting. Tears flowed freely and her mascara ran. Henry opened the door and crouched down.
“McKinley, you wanna tell me what that was all about? Why were you with Max and why did he run? you tell me now, or we’re making a trip to the station. You chose.”
She turned to face him. “Whatever”
*~*~*~*
Two for one today. This in spite of the free flow of my nose and the incessant barking which are both making me miserable. I guess you can be sick and create too. Someone send me a can of Lysol so I can disinfect my keyboard when this crud leaves me.
I’m writing for Lance and LeeRoy at “My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog” for the 100 Word Song which features the song “Criminal” as sung by Fiona Apple.
And I’m also writing for Velvet Verbosity’s 100 Word Challenge. This week we have the word “Whatever” to get the creative juices flowing.
Henry Waters paced as he thumped his fist on his forehead. What happened? Everything was jumbled in his head. Sarah Jane wasn’t suppose to be there. Her dad warned his daughter to stay away from the Zombie Gauntlet and she promised. Waters spied Max behind the yellow tape, hands in pockets chewing on his lip, fighting shock.
Through clenched teeth he hissed, “Max, why was Sarah Jane here? Ray was under the impression she would stay away until these murders are resolved.”
Max’s face etched with fear and sadness answered, “Man, you know how that girl is, er, was. Thinks she’s knows, knew, everything she needed to know.”
Henry scrubbed his face trying to find questions to ask to get him out of the trouble he’d found. The Chief was on the way. He knew the trouble Sarah Jane found was now his trouble. His investigation had no leads; just bodies and every fifth Friday another innocent, surrounded in crimson.
A bright winter morning eight months ago, a body was found. Henry took the call with his partner Jerrod McEwin and CSU. Demarion Jones was viciously stabbed to death the night before. Deep bites covered his body. The investigation began and Henry was confident he would hang on to his record as best closer on the squad. Confidence waned into ambiguity as a pattern emerged with the third body. All the murders happened on a fifth Friday during one of those Zombie Challenges.
“Max! Sit on the curb and wait for me. We’ll finish this at the station.” He growled the order and pointed a finger to emphasize his words.
Blue and red wigwagged, capturing eyes while the siren’s shriek pierced hearing. Henry swiveled around as the white Tahoe rocked to a halt and Chief of Detectives, Ray Jacoby bound out of the truck.
He scanned the faces behind the tape, found Waters and stalked through. His happiness eaten away by grief and anger he grabbed Henry and snarled,
“Where’s my daughter!?”
After Henry shook his boss off, Max saw him shocked, off balance as he searched for focus. Knowing the distractions, he decided to abscond custody, slid slowly into the crowd, and went home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Trifecta’s Trifextra Week Thirty-five challenge gave us the challenge to add another 33 words to a previous Trifecta or Trifextra post. I decided to fill in a blank between a posts that didn’t segue well into the next. It was awkward. These thirty-three words after the Trifecta prompted post “The Trouble in No Answers” clears up how Max got home in Revolution. The large italic text is my extra 33. Here’s the challenge:
This week we’re again asking you to stand on the shoulders of another writer. But this time that other writer is you. Take one of your former Trifecta or Trifextra 33 word entries and build upon it with another 33 words.
The chambers door swung shut like an old west saloon door. Ray felt like the Town Marshall getting ready to face the outlaw gunslinger. He wasn’t sure he would win the fight but the terror that ruled the town had to be drained. Townspeople wanted safety and order where none existed while the case remained unsolved.
A group crafted a special curfew and called it the Sarah Jane Rule to gain his support. It assigned excessive, radical, restrictions and had a remarkable number of supporters. Normally a town has curfew laws requiring teens be off the streets at a set time. Ray considered the so called “rule” that required everyone without a waiver be off the streets by 11:00 p.m., ridiculous.
Sarah Jane made the case fantastically personal for Ray, so he was determined his grief and pain, wouldn’t make him want to impart control that would limit what people could do and feed into their fear. He went through the door into the Equality City Council chamber where the angry beehive of a panicked community converged and gathered fear, hate and power.
Mayor Ben Johnson glanced up from the layers of paper meant to escort the collective to resolutions and conclusions as Ray walked in.
“Lieutenant Ray Jacoby. Thanks for joining us.”
“Mayor.”
“We’ve about talked this thing to death Ray. Anything you have to say?”
Ray stopped in front of the council, parted his sport coat; his right hand went to his hip and his left lounged habitually over his 45 caliber Glock 21. Head tipped and a sardonic grin marred his good looks as he fervently confronted them.
“Are you people crazy? This is America. Equality, Wyoming America. We don’t hide behind a crazy curfew claiming it’s going to take away the terror. Leta and I aren’t hiding behind closed doors peeking out the drapes looking for the bogeyman. We’re gonna stand up and fight.”
He turned, pointed at the crowd,
“What are you gonna do?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I wrote this chapter of Vivid Black with the help of the prompt at Trifecta. They give us one word which we use the 3rd definition as inspiration. The response must be between 33 and 333 words.
RADICAL (adjective)
3rd Definition:
a: very different from the usual or traditional : extreme
b: favoring extreme changes in existing views, habits, conditions, or institutions
c: associated with political views, practices, and policies of extreme changed: advocating extreme measures to retain or restore a political state of affairs <the radical right>
Henry studied Zombie Murder files while he mindlessly wolfed down a tray of sliders. The stress was making him pig out. If he didn’t get it controlled, it was going to kill him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” works from several angles. Henry is hunting the killer and the title fits what he’s doing while he works the case. Gotta love the 80’s right?
A quick little snippet of Vivid Black thanks to the Trifextra prompt at Trifecta. Here’s what they gave us to work with.
This weekend we want you to write a 33-word responseusing the name of an animal as a verb.
****You can find the previous chapter of Vivid Black HERE ~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah Jane carefully concealed the Tracfone. At home, she habitually moved it from place to place and the ringer was always off. It was under her pillow when she slept, or in her battered sling bag, an expected accessory. Her dad was a great detective which meant he was also detective dad at home and if she slipped up it would wreck everything she’d accomplished.
Zombie Gauntlet was her obsession. Max sent texts to “Zombies” and “Normals” with the route and time of the next challenge. Sarah Jane was the top competitor since it began. She had a reputation and a record to defend with each challenge.
Two years ago she asked for a cellphone. She carefully planned her reasons and arguments.
Her friend McKinley had one and her parents were super strict.
It would give them peace of mind knowing they could get ahold of her any time.
She promised she would never go over her minutes and texts or use it in class.
She was 14 and had good grades.
She knew kids who got smart phones in the third grade.
Predictably, her parents refused. Her Dad said the kids who are in trouble have few or no restrictions and kids and cellphones are a dangerous mix. Her Mom said kids don’t have filters and that they have neither time nor experience to understand the privilege and responsibility. Ray and Leta steadfastly refused to back down.
For Sarah Jane calmness was a rare commodity. In the face of defeat, she succumbed to the potency of her adolescence and her fury exploded like a roman candle. She stormed off to her room stomping, shouting and venting her outrage at the unfairness.
The refusal broke something. Two years later the collision’s wreckage had spun their lives out of control. Her determination to get what she wanted and their dedication to safeguard her innocence cleaved the family. Sarah Jane became disrespectful, dishonest, and defiant. Her parents found they no longer recognized their own child. Their home felt like a pot on the edge of boiling all the time.
The phone gently vibrated the text “ZGC Oct2910 1115pm”, then “21st along park/cemetery. End Lake” Sarah Jane felt the adrenaline rise knowing in two days she would “slay” Zombies and cunningly defeat the horde and win another Challenge.
Ray’s dire warnings didn’t affect her. The danger appealed to her; it was intoxicating.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This chapter of Vivid Black was inspired by the prompt over at Write On Edge and their Red writing Hood prompt. Pat Benetar’s “Love is a Battlefield” is a no brainer for the backstory on Sarah Jane and the rift between her parents. This song came to me the moment I conceived it and it played through my head as I composed the piece.
Here’s what WOE gave us:
This week, you have 400 words to write about collision. It can be literal or figurative, large or small.
****You can find the previous chapter of Vivid Black here.
Ray stepped into the garden of St. Therese Monastery and quietly wandered toward Leta who stood amid a carpet of flowers. Gently he slid his hand into hers and she calmly returned the grasp of his familiar hand. She turned to look into a his anguished face, crushed with grief.
“Leta. Sarah Jane.” was all he managed.
Gently she enfolded his shaking form into her own, and softly stroked his hair. They both wept.
He slid his hands up, held her face and tenderly kissed her forehead.
“Baby, she didn’t listen. She went out anyway and, and she’s gone.”
She tipped her head back to look in his eyes, pursed her lips, inhaled deeply and as the breath left her, her shoulders relaxed and her face smoothed into serenity.
“Ray, I knew—”
“But how? Brother John Mary said—“
“No. Not like that. I knew. Something just poured out of me and I knew Sarah Jane was gone. She has been so out of control, so defiant and it’s not your fault. Ray? Do you hear me? It’s not your fault.”
The stress and worry of the past day had no where else to go and his shoulders went slack as he collapsed onto the bench next to them. Leaning his head over the back, he let out the breath he’d been holding since he got the call from Waters. Smiling, Leta looked down at him and touched his cheek. Her serene heart and devoted soul, reminded him that her heartbeat was the other half his.
She took his hands and tugged until he stood. His arm around her waist, their hands joined in front, their love and grief carried them to the Abbot’s office where Leta would leave word of her departure.
Tomorrow would be another day, another test. Tomorrow they would learned how to live with the empty ache. Today Ray needed Leta’s heartbeat and Leta needed Ray’s courage to solve the injustice, to find the monster who killed their daughter.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Music and how it fills the space in my world has been on my mind a great deal thanks in large part to Lance at “My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog” and his 100 Word Song prompts. I AM a musician, and have a ridiculous collection of CD’s and my iTunes library loaded with more music than will fit on my iPod. Consequently, and a good consequence I think, when I write, if a song isn’t running through my head already, I finish and then starting spinning through the jukebox in my brain for a song to go with the post.
Fix You by Coldplay came quickly when I finished this piece. It fits the emotion and the need between Ray and Leta.
~~~~
Trifecta is responsible for inspiring this post with their prompt this week. They give us one word and these instructions:
Your prompt this week is the third definition of:
HEART (noun) — 3: personality, disposition ;
Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
The word itself needs to be included in your response.
You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
He dropped his bags next to the sink, ran cold water, and splashed the heat behind his eyes. Dripping, he saw his reflection peering back at him. He was surprised, by the stranger he’d never seen before.
I’m not evil. I know I disregard the danger. It’s the job. I often drown in good intention. Hell, what did I do wrong?
Outraged he tore at the paper hanging from the dispenser, getting nothing. Exasperated he grabbed, yanked over and over, pulling feet of paper free. Angrily he wadding the paper, scrubbed his face and threw the towel across the room.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lance and LeeRoy the WordSong Robot let me do the song choice this week for 100 Word Song. I went to my musical roots and picked “The Stranger” by one of my all time favorite artists Billy Joel’s. The song fits nicely with where the story is right now.
He scrubbed sleep from his eyes; surprised two plus hours had passed since take off. Flight crew purposefully supervised safety and cleaned before landing. He tried to stretch in an attempt to work the knots out of his six foot frame. Futile, when the legroom was better suited to a 12 year old.
Through the scratchy tin can PA, Captain Mark announced the final approach. Ray wondered if the harried mom would get everyone strapped in. Hearing popped in and out with the descent. Bump, rumble as wheels touch tarmac. Duffle retrieved, relief blew him into the San Antonio heat.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I was inspired to write this post by this weeks word at Velvet Verbosity. She has a ; 100 Word Challenge The chosen word is “Relief”.
Predictably crammed in his seat, he marveled at his window seat luck. He faded physically and mentally into the crease. Sleep won easily; dreams provided escape.
He sat across from her at “The Depot”; the fancy go to place for first dates. The silence was perilous and Leta fiddled with the edge of the dazzling white napkin that bore the pink imprint of her lips.
“Listen Ray, Just talk to me nice. Either amuse me or lose me.”
As he awoke he remembered the twinkle in her eye that gave away the firm edge to her mouth. He was hooked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lance and LeeRoy got a song. The song “Peel Me A Grape” performed by Dianna Krall was suggested by Eric from Sinistral Scribblings which in turned inspired this addition to Vivid Black in exactly 100 words.
Want to read Vivid Black from the start? Click HERE. Start at the top and work your way to the bottom.
As he approached, the revolving door welcomed him with its whop, whoosh, whop whoosh and spun him into the airport. He hoisted his canvas drab backpack higher on his shoulder, listing to the right with the weight of his carry-on duffle. Ray lurched to the Frontier ticket counter and checked into his flight.
His flight wouldn’t leave for hours and while a cold beer was appealing he didn’t want to dull or diminish his thoughts; he needed his edge. So he drifted along the wide hall scattered with travelers encumbered in varying stages of luggage, children and technology. He recognized frustration, panic, exhaustion, and glee in their faces and demeanor. As he wandered, the earthy, rich smell of coffee drifted over the mixed emotions that washed the corridor. It drew Ray in where he found the savory smell of grilled burgers. He sat at the counter and ordered a burger and black coffee.
When the order arrived, he moved to the red vinyl booth in the corner recently occupied by newlyweds still unfamiliar with the routines and behaviors of those jaded and comfortable in marriage. Watching, observing was unavoidable, the consequence of years as a cop. He saw the shabby, unkempt guy whose sallow, scabbed face and dull eyes betrayed his addiction. Ray wondered who was paying for his ticket and hoped he wouldn’t be on his flight.
When he finished his burger he collected his bags and worked his way back to the counter where he ordered and paid for another coffee, then wound his way out and headed toward the gate. He looked over the waiting area, found an empty chair in a long occupied row and crumpled into its small rigid form. Ray exhaled and breathed out the stress of airport ticket counters and invasive security which was enough, but his journey had the burden of telling his wife about Sarah Jane.
He thought, I wish this was over. Leta. Leta. Leta. Gotta get to her first. Leta was at a Monastery in San Antonio participating in a deep contemplative retreat to finishing her training as a Spiritual Director. She was isolated and completely removed from the outside world. When Ray spoke to Brother John Mary, he was assured Leta knew nothing. The dread bore a deep hole inside of him as he played every possible outcome over and over in his head.
The muscle in his jaw did a tattoo rhythm to match the twitch in his foot that bounced his knee. His eyes scanned the walls and pillars looking for a clock that would tell him his task was at hand, his mission near an end, but he knew it was just beginning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This installment of Vivid Black is inspired by the writing prompt at Write on Edge.
This week we’d like you to write a fiction or creative non-fiction piece set entirely in an airport. Take us on an adventure in 450 words or less.
I’m writing for Lance and LeeRoy at “My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog” for the 100 Word Song which features the song “Criminal” as sung by Fiona Apple.
Day In and Day Out 