Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Cursed Knight

Cursed Knight

"It looked like a huge bat, man!" The thief cried as the police officer cuffed him. "I'm not joking."
"Yeah, right buddy," the cop said. "You wish we were taking a ride to Arkham but your headed for the County Butt fuck."
            The crook cried in pain as the cop twisted the cuffs, pressing the hard metal into his wrist bones. 
            The second officer just shook his head. "That's just wrong McDermott."
            "Just being honest, Bullock," McDermott said as he helped the perp a little too much into the back of the police cruiser.  The thief's head bounced off the door jam and he crashed into the backseat. 
            "Ah, what the fuck?!?" The perp yelled as McDermott slammed the door shut. 
“Shut up, ya pussy,” McDermott said and turned to look over at the woman sitting in the back of an ambulance.
“If he’s bleeding in the backseat you’re cleaning it up, asshole,” Bullock said over the roof of the cruiser.
“I hope he bleeds to death then. You really think he was going to stop at mugging that chick?” McDermott said. “Betcha half the abortions on this block are products of his forced affection.”
An unmarked cruiser came to a screeching stop next to the ambulance and man in a dark grey trench coat jumped out. He ran over to the paramedic and woman sitting in the back of the ambulance.
“Why the hell is the White Knight here? No reason for homicide's superstar to be down here unless we missed a body hiding under all this fucking trash,” McDermott said.
“You didn’t listen to a word that woman said when she was yelling at us for help were you?” Bullock said. “Her name’s Emma White.”
“Oh shit,” McDermott said and looked in through the window at the perp who was laying in the fetal position on the back seat. He yelled through the window, “You’re fucked.”

*****

“What were you doing in that neighborhood Em?” The detective asked. A plaque on his desk read, Detective Martin White. 
“Why do you think I was there Marty?” Emma said. “Want me to really talk about that right here in the middle of the precinct?”
“Are you still on this,” Martin leaned closer to his sister and whispered. “Bigfoot hunt? You almost got killed tonight. You need to give up this childish crap and go back to school."
“You heard that scumbag, he’s telling the truth, and it wasn't a Bigfoot,” Emma whispered. “I saw it.”
“Do not say another word Emma. I can only do so much for you if they try and commit you for a psych evaluation! This isn’t a joke.” Martin looked over his shoulder.
“I told them that a bum hit the guy over the head and walked off into the alley, okay?” Emma said.
“That is only slightly better. But believable,” Martin said. “And why didn’t you tell me or mom you were coming to New York?”
“You called mom?” Emma leaned back in her seat. “Of course you ratted on me. You’re such a dick sometimes.”
“I heard your god damn name over the police band in my city and texted your mother that you were fine after rushing to your side and I’m a dick?” Martin said.
“Yup, a rat dick,” Emma crossed her arms. “Can I go now?”
“Where are you staying?” Martin asked.
“With friends,” Emma said.
“I’ll drive you,” Martin stood up and pulled his jacket off the back of her chair.
“No, I will take the subway. I know my way around this city too Marty,” Emma said as she stood. 
“You just got mugged, Em, just let me give you a ride or have a uniform take you over,” Martin said.
“Hell no to the uniform and it will take a lot more than a mugging to rattle me, Marty. Bye,” Emma turned and walked away.
Outside of the police station, Emma was being watched from high above the street, by a young man sitting on the ledge of a building.
“Who are you watching, Billy?” a larger man said from behind the younger man. “And where is your shirt?”
“Her,” Billy pointed at Emma White as she headed for the nearest subway with a 1 train. “And I don’t know, Hank.”
Hank stepped up to the edge of the building and looked down at the woman Billy was pointing at. “Did she see you?”
“See me what?” Billy asked.
“See you?” Hank said. “And don’t avoid answering by asking me what I’m taking about, boy.”
“I don’t think so, but I think she knows something,” Billy said. “She chased after me in the ally. But I was already on the roof top by the time she picked herself off the ground.”
“Billy, I came here hoping this wasn’t true,” Hank said.
“Hoping what wasn’t true?” Billy jumped off of the building and landed in a run in the ally way.
Billy hit the street, tucked his hands in his pockets and followed about ten people behind Emma. 
Hank was at his side quickly.
“Why are we following this woman?” Hank asked. 
“I, that means just me, am following her to make sure she gets home okay. She was jumped by a mugger and possibly rapist, so I am being a gentleman and seeing her to her door,” Billy didn’t even look at Hank.
Hank grabs Billy but the shoulders and slams him against the building, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Billy?”
“You need to relax, Hank,” Billy didn’t try and fight, Hank was much older and much stronger than he was. “I’m not hurting anyone. I have a code. You and the Stanton’s saw to that.”
“Doesn’t matter if you’re not hurting anyone,” Hank let the young man go. “The Stanton's think this is a bad idea. You know our kind don’t like making the headlines.”
 Heading off down the sidewalk after Emma again, Billy said, “No one believes the crap they print in the Post.”
“It will only take one picture to put fifty pissed off Were’s on your ass,” Hank said catching up easily to Billy as he headed into the entrance to the Subway where Emma went.
“Then I just won’t let anyone take my picture,” Billy said as he slide through the doors of a the train car ahead of where Emma boarded.
The doors closed on Hank’s face. Billy smiled through the window and waved at Hank.
Hank’s lip snarled as the train pulled away.
Billy sat down where he could see Emma through the doors between the subway cars.
She was off in her own little world, all by herself in the train car. She was oblivious to Billy’s attention. Exactly like he wanted it, for now.
Then the window went black. The subway door slid open and Hank steeped through.
“This is a prime example on why people like you and I should be acting out the fantasies of every fanboy across the globe,” Billy said. 
“It is the prime example on why creatures like us should never interact with the outside world on more than a casual basis,” Hank stood in front of Billy, and grabbed the handle above the young man’s head.
“It’s such a waste,” Billy said, still looking over at Emma.
“No matter how well you are trained, no matter how much control you think you have, no matter how much you care about a human,” Hank leaned down and put his face close to Billy’s, “we are not human and one accident will destroy their world.”
“You don’t think I know that Hank!” Billy shot to his feet. “Or don’t you remember I’m the guy who destroyed an entire town. You’re the one who found me cover in my families blood. Literally.”
“That’s why I don’t understand why you’re pulling this masked vigilante crap,” Hank said.
“Do I look like I’m wearing a mask?” Billy looked Hank in the eye.
“No,” Hank said.
The train slowed down and came to a stop. Through the window, Billy saw Emma shoot up and out the train door.
“This is our stop,” Billy smiled and headed out the train door. Hank was quicker this time and the tiles on the station wall read, 157th Street.
Emma walked much quicker in this neighborhood. Billy and Hank kept their distance and followed her down Broadway. She took the first left onto 156th and had her keys out as she headed into the recess of the first building on the right. She had the door open in one smooth motion. Sh eloped out the window, then shook her head and hit the stairs.
“Are you happy now?” Hank said. “She’s safely home, Mr. Chivalrous.”
“A little,” Billy smiled and headed down an empty ally.
“Where are you headed now?” Hank asked.
“I’m gonna do a little sight seeing,” Billy said. “You wanna tag along?”
Grimacing, Hank followed as Billy scaled the fire escape. Hank chose to jump, straight up to the roof of the building.
“Will I be as big and strong as you when I’m grown up?” Billy laughed as he came over the edge of the building.
“You’ll always be petit, but if you live past your first century you won’t have to climb as many fire escapes,” Hank said.
“Petit, I like to think of myself as lanky,” Billy said. Then he ran and jumped to the next roof top, gliding in leathery wings that hung from his arms, roof top to roof top. 
Hank shook his head and followed.
Ten blocks down, in the heart of Harlem, there was a scream. Billy skidded to a stop on a rooftop and Hank landed next to him quietly.
“Let the cops handle it, Billy,” Hank said.
“You can either stop me, you can watch or you can help,” Billy said as he jumped from the building into the closest alley. 
“Damn it,” Hank looked over the edge and saw a woman being held by one guy, and another with a knife in front of her.
“Yer tears just turnin’ me on shorty,” the guy with the knife said giggling.
The guy holding her reached down and pulled her skirt up, “You built for speed, ain’t ya baby?”
Her mouth was covered by his hand, and she just cried as hard as she could hoping someone would hear.
Then the hand was gone from her mouth and her skirt fell back to where it belonged. 
“What the fu—“ the guy with the knife tried to say, but Billy grabbed him by his neck and his nuts and threw him like a spear at a pile of garbage. The other guy was laying there unconscious.
“You okay, miss?” Billy asked keeping his hands up in front of him, shooing that he wasn’t holding anything.
“Lookout behind you!” The woman screamed as a tire iron came down at billy’s head.
The metal club stopped a few inches from Billy’s head, Hank’s hand wrapped firmly around the steel. He yanked it from the man’s grip easily, then backhanded the guy into the wall. He fell to the ground,  knocked out and drooling on himself.
“That would have stung,” Billy smiled at Hank, “Thanks.”
“I should have let him knock some sense into you,” Hank bent the tire iron into a loop, and tossed it in a dumpster. Then he looked at the woman, “Take a hike and don’t talk about this with anyone.”
Her eyes were wide and she was shaking. She nodded slightly with her mouth open, turned on her heal and ran back to the street.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t fun,” Billy crossed his arms.
“A little,” Hank said.
“I can see it in your eyes Hank, like a lights been turned on in a dark house,” Billy said.
“What are you Walt Whitman now?” Hank said. “Keep the waxing poetic to yourself.”
“Come on, be the Robin to my Batman?” Billy put his arm around Hank’s shoulder.
Shrugging the arm off briskly and pointing at Billy, “If you ever refer to me as your sidekick again, I will kick your manbat ass up and down the length of this city. Got that?”
Jumping up and down clapping, Billy said, “You’re in then?”
“I will make sure you don’t get your head caved in and that no one accidentally snaps a selfie with you,” Hank said. “For now.”
“Awesome,” Billy said and jumped up onto the nearest fire escape.
“This is still a bad idea and is going to have to stop at some point,” Hank yelled as he jumped through the air toward the roof top.
“But at least tonight we can put a few criminals in their place,” Bill said as he joined Hank. The two looked from the top of the building out over the city.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Because I Needed To

Because I Needed To

I kissed her every where we went
Because I needed to
I held her hand all that I could
Because I needed to
Listened to the beat of her heart
Because I needed to
Caught her eye whenever I could
Because I needed to
Against all that, I let her go
Cause she needed me to

Judging A Book By Its Cover

Judging A book By Its Cover

If it looks like a book
It's probably a pirate
Or a T-Rex
Or first love run its course
But definitely not a book

The Wish Giver


The Wish Giver

The Wish giver stood before me
Like a man built of fire
He said you can be anything
You can have anything
You can go anywhere

I want to be her man
I want to hold her hand
I want to be in her arms

The Wish Giver looked at me
Full of fire 
& smoke 
& light
And said
I cannot grant those wishes
For those are not wishes to grant
Those are her dreams to give

A Still Fountain

A Still Fountain

I found myself 
as I never expected
alive past the age
at which I thought
I would die
A woman stood
pressed against me
on a still fountain
waiting to flow
after a long winter
with ivy climbing
toward the sky
all around us
And she kissed me back
when I expected
her to run

The Old Voice

The Old Voice

The one that speaks in your belly
that feels like hunger as it rumbles
that tells you to jump from bridges
And that it won't hurt to take honey from bees
or give your heart to a stranger
he can be very balligerant some days
or he may not speak for years
but we all must choose to listen
or ignore the old voice
at our own perile or loss
he may speak different words to us all
but his meaning is clear
He wishes to feed
and he dines on only 
your pain
or your glory

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Small Town Hero - a short story

Small Town Hero



              “Erik?” Chris yelled from the other room, “Want to head home or make a pick­up?”

              I limped into the office with a cup of coffee, “I’ll take it, you head home. Seeing as

though I just had to have one of these.”

              “Good,” Chris stood up and started toward the door, “I need some sleep. You coming

down to the match tomorrow?”

              “Have I ever missed a match?” I asked.

              “No, and you even had the courtesy to get into that accident after New England’s,” Chris

turned and leaned in the doorway.

              “Yeah, I'm a big ball of consideration,” I took a sip of coffee.

              “Anyway, the address is on the desk. I’ll see ya in the morning. Drive safe.” Chris turned

and walked out of the office.

              “You too,” I walked over to the desk and picked up the address. I recognized the address

and laughed out loud. “Why wouldn't he have just written the middle school? This has got to be a

joke.”

              It wasn’t cold enough for the snow to stick to the ground, but it came anyway. It melted

the moment it hit my windshield or the asphalt. A few flakes blew around in little funnels ­ spared

a few moments grace.

              The streets were empty, but I still took it slow even with the option of four wheel drive in

my Durango. Even under the speed limit it only took five minutes to get to the middle school. I

pulled into the entrance and drove around the circle of grass in the center of the parking lot. I

searched the foyer but couldn’t see anyone or anything there. So, I came full circle to the entrance

and drove back toward the street.

              Out of the corner of my eye I saw something fly out of the gazebo sitting on the lawn in

front of the middle school. I came to a stop and looked out the passenger window. Something was

moving in the gazebo. Then the figure walked down the steps and looked over at the car.

              I lowered the window. The figure began walking toward the truck ­ a man wearing a suit

with the tie balled up in his jacket pocket and the collar hanging open.

  “You need some help, Mister?” I yelled through the wind and snow.

  “Yeah,” the man in the suit said. His voice grinding through my memories like a pebble in

a blender. “I could really use a ride.”

              “Saferides is a program for students,” I said and turned my attention out the windshield.

“Not middle aged alcoholics.”

              “P­please,” the man squinted in the flurries, “I don’t have enough for a cab… I don’t…I

don’t think I could even get a c­cab out here now.”

              “Again, our service is for students,” I rolled the window up, put it in drive and pulled out

onto the street. I drove slowly and in the rear view mirror I could see the man in the suit begin

walking down the sidewalk in the other direction. The man stumbled and fell to his hands and

knees and his breath filled the air around his head as he struggled back to his feet. I punched the

steering wheel.

              “Damn it,” I threw the car in reverse. I didn't bother turning around, I just slid to a stop

next the man as he failed at wiping off his suit while still on his knees.

              “You don’t live in that direction,” I said as I rolled down the window, “Mr. Reynolds.”

              Mr. Reynolds leaned into the car but I didn't look at him. I could smell the liquor on him

even through the cold and the snow, “You know me? Who... who’s that in there?”

              I kept my stare fixed ahead on the swirling snow on the blacktop. A few spots had started

to dust over with the light powder, but they were few and far between.

              “Just get in the back Mr. Reynolds,” I said.

              Mr. Reynolds reached out and grabbed onto the front passenger side door handle but

slipped off because the door was still locked, “Fuck!”

              “I said the back, Mr. Reynolds,” I rolled the window up and waited for Mr. Reynolds to

put his hand on the rear handle, then unlocked the door.

              “You know where I live?” Mr. Reynolds said righting himself in the back seat after falling

into it.

              I looked at him in the rear view mirror but didn’t respond. I put the car in drive and pulled

off down the street.

              Mr. Reynolds sat with his forehead against the cold glass staring at the flurries as they

whipped by the window. “Can I open the window, its so much cooler outside?” He pushed at the

window lift button but I had locked them.

  “No,” I said, and I wondered how Mr. Reynolds had gotten the number for Saferide.

              “I didn’t have anyone else to call,” Mr. Reynolds seemed to read my mind, and he held a

business card up in font of his face. “I found… this in my pocket. Must belong to my daughter. Do

you now my daughter?”

              “Yes, Mr. Reynolds. I know Maria.” It was her fault I was in this situation. I didn't know

he was out of jail ­  I also didn't think anyone in this town would ever sell him another damn drink.

I guess greed out weighs their morals.

              “Wait... I know you. You’re the McManus kid aren’t you?” Mr. Reynolds looked over the

business card that he was still holding up in front of his face. I could see his eyes were glassy over

the card in the rear view mirror.

              “Yes, Mr. Reynolds, I am.” I pulled my bad leg up and shifted in the seat to fend off a hip

cramp.

              “You can let me out here if you want,” Mr. Reynolds reached for the handle, but the door

didn’t open, I had the child locks set.

              “I don’t leave people stranded when they need help, Mr. Reynolds.”

              “I don’t suppose you would be that kind of person.”

              “Just sit quietly and I’ll have you home in a few minutes.” I turned off of Main Street and

was back near the high school when Mr. Reynolds broke the silence again.

              “I really didn’t know what I did, Erik.”

              “So you’ve said before Mr. Reynolds.” I wrapped my fingers around the steering wheel so

tightly you could hear my calluses scrape over the vinyl. “And I would prefer it quiet while I

drive.”

              “Your parents must be good people,” Mr. Reynolds said quietly, “raising such a respectful

and tolerant young man.”

              I kept quiet as I pulled onto Walnut Hill. A minute later I came to a stop in front of the

Reynolds' residence.

              I turned in the seat calmly and said, “They did just that Mr. Reynolds. But my tolerance

only goes so far. If anything like this happens again, I will report it to your Probation officer and

do my damnedest to make sure it hurts you.”

  Mr. Reynolds looked at me with a sullen face and then dropped his chin to his chest. I

unlocked the door and the man got out. Mr. Reynolds looked at me through the window for a

moment, then walked to his door. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him try three keys before

finding the right one. The door closed behind him, and I pulled away.