Post by Wild Dog on Sept 20, 2010 21:11:13 GMT -5
Hey, had a long day, and thought of a short story. This may, or may not, be a collection of short stories. Here is one
WORK IN PROGRESS< DO NOT READ
The Ring
Who am I? I am Rand Smith, detective, private eye. I would tell you about me physically, but ut doesn't matter. I solve people's problems, becasue they can't handle it themselves. Sometimes, they are easy fixes, a new house, a letter, stuff like that. Then there are the hard ones, like what the police call me up to solve. A murder. Homicide. Suicide. Life is always a battle for me. Don't know if this day will be my last. Never know what the next day has to offer. I am stationed in New York. I would tell you where in New York, but it wouldn't matter. I quit. Why? becsue of the case. The Case. The one that cost me my life. Here is how it all started.
Monday, the curse of a detective. Buisness was slow, so I called a few buddies, and went to Joe's. He has some mighty fine beer. Now, me and my buddies, we go everwere together, in my car. Henry, he is a dentist. Ralph, a pyscologist. And Bob, the town drunk. It can be said that a man is defined by the type of friends he has, but I don't believe in that stuff. We drunk a few beers, beginging to feel wosy, when I got a call. The local police wanted me down at a shop. So, eventually, that is where I found myself. The mall was dead, had been for years. Now there obly was a walmart, jewelery store, and a consessions booth. The victim, lay in the center of the mall. A large, glass dome up above illuminated the place. Walking over to the scene, I tried to straighten my mind. Mighty fine beer.
The victim was six foot two, large beard, and distintivaly out of the state. He had that aura about him that screamed Texan. Large beer belly, texas shirt on, oh yea, definetly Texan. His shirt read, "Guns, there are no guns in texas, those are our toys" The person stating that on the shirt was pointing to all different kinds of guns. I really didn't get it, but, texas is a whole lot different place. If one word could sum it all up, it would be Macho. Tattooes running down his back. Had a Harly Davidson pants on. He had a weird expression on his face. I couldn't place it for a while, then it dawned on me.
The guy was dead.
Large wound on his head. Very large. I really didn't think that a soccer ball sized wound would make that expression. Still wonder, in fact. He seemed, almost........happpy. He seemed so much in peace. I shook my head clear, this wasn't why I was here. Noticing the benches by the area, I started looking for clues. Blood, laying by a post. Large wood chip in his brain.
"Yea, this one died of an accident" I announced. Gingerly getting up, so not to further my headache, I almost left, when a glint caught my eye. On the right finger of his left hand, lay a ring. Didn't seem to be a wedding ring, just a solid gold ring. With one blue stone in the middle. The guy didn't seem the type of fellow to be wearing that stuff, but I ignored it. I went home, and life continued as normal. Wish I knew what was coming.
Weeks went by.
A buddy of mine, Henry. Oh, you met him. Guy who is a dentist. Well, he decided to go deer hunting. On a whim, I went with him. Now, I've never been deer hunting before, you know. Didn't know what to expect. We get out there, about nine'o clock, and decided to bunk down. Get up, the next morning, and have breakfast. Then, we sent out to our stand. Now, on the way, we found tracks after tracks of deer. Now, I don't understand hunting, right? So, this was new to me. but Henry, he understands. He can't figure out, then, why all these tracks? Up and down the stream, up trees, and off of cliffs? You follwing me? This is weird right?
Well, got to our stand, right when a herd of deer come flying out of the woods. I says, "shoot um, shoot um" but Henry says, "no, they seem different. And he was right. All had frightful eyes, puffing out. Foam dripped from their mouthes, and they were panting heavly. We watched them go by, and for hours, saw not a living animal. I mean, nothing. Then, out a the blue, stepped a buck. Now, i can tell you one thing, that buck was a beaut. he was tall, full, and powerful.
"shoot him" And Henry did. Beautyful shot. Then, a strange thing happened, once we shot it, the woods exploded with life. Little fury animals ran too and fro. Birds sang to us. Seemed like the woods were waiting for the deer to die.
Well, we dragged it back to our camp, and celebrated. Had a great time. Then, Henry had to gut it. I watched, curious. He skinned it. Took off the antlers. When he cut open the stomache, I almost gagged. Such disgusting slop spilled out. He asked me to help him, and I did. With latex gloves, I gathered it all up, and put it in a trashcan. I found all sorts of things in there. Bones. Twigs. When I was almost done, a lump caught my eye. I picked it up, washed it off, and almost fainted. There, laying in my hand, was the same ring that I found on the Texan. Blue stone, solid gold, everything. But, the ring must have been buried with the Texan. In fact, I went to his funeral, I saw the ring. But here it was, laying in my hand.
Shakingly, I got up, and walked. We were quite close to a lake, you see. So, I got up there, and threw it into the lake. I turned around, and hoped I would never see that ring again. After I got back, I sat by the fire. The ring, with its blue stone, hovered in my mind. This can't be happening. Finally, after a couple hours and more beers then I could count, I came to accept that it was a cowincidence. Had to be. There are many rings in the world, that the one with a blue stone looked ordinary, typical even.
Henry, not knowing about the incident, commented on the deer. "Yea, that deer was really easy to skin. It came right off. Usually, when I skin a deer, they are tense and frightened. But this buck, he was happy and relaxes. You can tell, look at his face. Happy. I don't blame him. This place is so nice" WIth that, he tumbled off his seat and fell over, snoring. I followed him
A week went by. I lost my self in my job. Murders, cats missing, and a ever present feeling in me. It wasn't really strong, but life, for me, felt good. Then, I went to Alaska on a fishing trip. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I love fishing. Just a whole day of doing nothing but casting. Life couldn't get better. And I was right.
We were out there, me and a twenty foot boat, when something intresting happened. I couldn't see it, but down below, a rock, well, an iceberg, came dilodged and came floating to the surface. One moment, I was happily fishing. Next moment, I was failing in the water. The iceberg hit my
WORK IN PROGRESS< DO NOT READ
The Ring
Who am I? I am Rand Smith, detective, private eye. I would tell you about me physically, but ut doesn't matter. I solve people's problems, becasue they can't handle it themselves. Sometimes, they are easy fixes, a new house, a letter, stuff like that. Then there are the hard ones, like what the police call me up to solve. A murder. Homicide. Suicide. Life is always a battle for me. Don't know if this day will be my last. Never know what the next day has to offer. I am stationed in New York. I would tell you where in New York, but it wouldn't matter. I quit. Why? becsue of the case. The Case. The one that cost me my life. Here is how it all started.
Monday, the curse of a detective. Buisness was slow, so I called a few buddies, and went to Joe's. He has some mighty fine beer. Now, me and my buddies, we go everwere together, in my car. Henry, he is a dentist. Ralph, a pyscologist. And Bob, the town drunk. It can be said that a man is defined by the type of friends he has, but I don't believe in that stuff. We drunk a few beers, beginging to feel wosy, when I got a call. The local police wanted me down at a shop. So, eventually, that is where I found myself. The mall was dead, had been for years. Now there obly was a walmart, jewelery store, and a consessions booth. The victim, lay in the center of the mall. A large, glass dome up above illuminated the place. Walking over to the scene, I tried to straighten my mind. Mighty fine beer.
The victim was six foot two, large beard, and distintivaly out of the state. He had that aura about him that screamed Texan. Large beer belly, texas shirt on, oh yea, definetly Texan. His shirt read, "Guns, there are no guns in texas, those are our toys" The person stating that on the shirt was pointing to all different kinds of guns. I really didn't get it, but, texas is a whole lot different place. If one word could sum it all up, it would be Macho. Tattooes running down his back. Had a Harly Davidson pants on. He had a weird expression on his face. I couldn't place it for a while, then it dawned on me.
The guy was dead.
Large wound on his head. Very large. I really didn't think that a soccer ball sized wound would make that expression. Still wonder, in fact. He seemed, almost........happpy. He seemed so much in peace. I shook my head clear, this wasn't why I was here. Noticing the benches by the area, I started looking for clues. Blood, laying by a post. Large wood chip in his brain.
"Yea, this one died of an accident" I announced. Gingerly getting up, so not to further my headache, I almost left, when a glint caught my eye. On the right finger of his left hand, lay a ring. Didn't seem to be a wedding ring, just a solid gold ring. With one blue stone in the middle. The guy didn't seem the type of fellow to be wearing that stuff, but I ignored it. I went home, and life continued as normal. Wish I knew what was coming.
Weeks went by.
A buddy of mine, Henry. Oh, you met him. Guy who is a dentist. Well, he decided to go deer hunting. On a whim, I went with him. Now, I've never been deer hunting before, you know. Didn't know what to expect. We get out there, about nine'o clock, and decided to bunk down. Get up, the next morning, and have breakfast. Then, we sent out to our stand. Now, on the way, we found tracks after tracks of deer. Now, I don't understand hunting, right? So, this was new to me. but Henry, he understands. He can't figure out, then, why all these tracks? Up and down the stream, up trees, and off of cliffs? You follwing me? This is weird right?
Well, got to our stand, right when a herd of deer come flying out of the woods. I says, "shoot um, shoot um" but Henry says, "no, they seem different. And he was right. All had frightful eyes, puffing out. Foam dripped from their mouthes, and they were panting heavly. We watched them go by, and for hours, saw not a living animal. I mean, nothing. Then, out a the blue, stepped a buck. Now, i can tell you one thing, that buck was a beaut. he was tall, full, and powerful.
"shoot him" And Henry did. Beautyful shot. Then, a strange thing happened, once we shot it, the woods exploded with life. Little fury animals ran too and fro. Birds sang to us. Seemed like the woods were waiting for the deer to die.
Well, we dragged it back to our camp, and celebrated. Had a great time. Then, Henry had to gut it. I watched, curious. He skinned it. Took off the antlers. When he cut open the stomache, I almost gagged. Such disgusting slop spilled out. He asked me to help him, and I did. With latex gloves, I gathered it all up, and put it in a trashcan. I found all sorts of things in there. Bones. Twigs. When I was almost done, a lump caught my eye. I picked it up, washed it off, and almost fainted. There, laying in my hand, was the same ring that I found on the Texan. Blue stone, solid gold, everything. But, the ring must have been buried with the Texan. In fact, I went to his funeral, I saw the ring. But here it was, laying in my hand.
Shakingly, I got up, and walked. We were quite close to a lake, you see. So, I got up there, and threw it into the lake. I turned around, and hoped I would never see that ring again. After I got back, I sat by the fire. The ring, with its blue stone, hovered in my mind. This can't be happening. Finally, after a couple hours and more beers then I could count, I came to accept that it was a cowincidence. Had to be. There are many rings in the world, that the one with a blue stone looked ordinary, typical even.
Henry, not knowing about the incident, commented on the deer. "Yea, that deer was really easy to skin. It came right off. Usually, when I skin a deer, they are tense and frightened. But this buck, he was happy and relaxes. You can tell, look at his face. Happy. I don't blame him. This place is so nice" WIth that, he tumbled off his seat and fell over, snoring. I followed him
A week went by. I lost my self in my job. Murders, cats missing, and a ever present feeling in me. It wasn't really strong, but life, for me, felt good. Then, I went to Alaska on a fishing trip. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I love fishing. Just a whole day of doing nothing but casting. Life couldn't get better. And I was right.
We were out there, me and a twenty foot boat, when something intresting happened. I couldn't see it, but down below, a rock, well, an iceberg, came dilodged and came floating to the surface. One moment, I was happily fishing. Next moment, I was failing in the water. The iceberg hit my