Four of Spades

[continued from Six of Clubs]

Scooter didn’t open his eyes.  His mind was playing a loop of fast-forwarded images of Evan jumping out of the car, the tornado collapsing in his rear view mirror, and then reforming to his car’s left.  He could still feel the car lifting up from the road, and his arms still felt tired from grabbing the door and steering wheel, in a vain attempt to hold his car together.  It was starting again when Scooter slowly opened one eye.  He was looking out of the passenger window, which was either cleaner than he remembered, or broken.  He wiggled his fingers and toes, and after accounting for them all in his head, he slowly started to realize he was partially resting on the roof of his car.  He slowly moved his sore neck so he could see upward, and he spotted his legs hooked around the lap belt of his car.  The shoulder strap was dangling by the door, but Scooter couldn’t quite see if it had broken or had been cut.  He heard rain hitting the underside of his car, which was a sound he had never planned on hearing.  He went to undue the lap belt, but his left arm radiated pain as he moved it upward.  He heard the click, and felt the hold on his legs vanish.  His backside fell to the roof, and the reality of being prone on the roof of his car from the inside was sinking in.  He felt around for his laptop and video camera, but he didn’t find them.

rrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhh

“Oh no…no no no…” Scooter said aloud.  The dull roar sounded like a freight train, and Scooter knew surviving a tornado in a car once was rare, but twice was altogether unlikely.  He squared himself on all fours, but his knees and shoulders felt like he’d been swimming for hours.  He slowly crawled towards the broken window.

rrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH

“Dammit dammit” Scooter said as he placed his first hand outside the car.  The wet gravel squished between his fingers.  A road?  Great, I can get in the ditch Scooter thought.  He sighed with relief as he placed his other hand out to grasp the road.  Instead of feeling more gravel, he felt cold wet steel.  He closed his hand around what felt like a railroad track.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHH

Scooter’s eyes were suddenly open more than they ever had been.  He was frantically looking for the other track, and he could the wet ground start to quake lightly as the train approached.  He looked quickly to his left and saw the lights from the locomotive coming right at him.  Scooter crawled backwards back into his car, just as the speeding train roared past his car, missing it by less than a foot.  Scooter covered his ears as the train blanketed the nearby landscape with a dull roar that his hands could barely keep out.  A few minutes later, the train had gone past, and Scooter took his hands off his ears.  He once again heard the sound of rain on the car’s undercarriage, but he also heard what sounded like footsteps.  Scooter once again crawled out of his car as the footsteps got closer.  “Scooter?”  Scooter pulled himself up, and he saw a familiar silhouette standing in front of some high-beam headlights.

“EVAN!  Holy crap…dude…I am beyond glad to see you.”  Scooter stumbled around the car, and found himself grasping Evan in a bear hug.  Evan struggled to hold them both up, as Scooter’s legs weren’t contributing much to that effort.

“Are you okay?  We need to get back to a town so we can call my Aunt Gert.”  Evan slowly helped Scooter to his feet, and Scooter looked at him very peculiarly. 

“Aunt Gert?”

“Yes…Aunt Gert.  This nice Nebraska State Patrolman is going to take us to town to make a call.  He’s relieved to know we weren’t out storm chasing or anything stupid like that.  We can make arrangements for your car as well.”

“Right, right…just let me grab a few things…”  Scooter turned and almost fell onto the car’s undercarriage, which was now the over-carriage. 

“You can grab your stuff later.  I need to get you two into town pronto” came a voice from behind the glow of the headlights.  Scooter looked at his car’s undercarriage, and saw something sticking out of his muffler.  He reached out and pulled at the object, which slid out.  It was a four of spades that had been jabbed into his muffler like some kind of paper dagger. 

“C’mon Scooter, we can come back later” Evan said as he tugged on Scooter’s sleeve.  Scooter slid the four into his back pocket and slowly walked to the patrol car with Evan’s help.

Four of Diamonds

(this story is an epilogue to the stories Jack of Clubs, Jack of Hearts, Jack of Spades, and Jack of Diamonds)

The dinging sound of the bell hanging on the door didn’t stir anyone at the all-night diner.  A man in a black suit walked in and looked around.  A sleepy waitress slowly walked out to him.  Her dirty blond hair was falling out of her bun, and she had numerous small stains all over her uniform.  Her name-tag read “Hazel” and was almost at a 45 degree angle.  “Table or a booth” she asked, mustering all the energy she could.  Her eyes drifted from the man’s face to his black tie.  A large red diamond was in the center, and she had to stop herself from staring at it.  The man didn’t even notice her staring, and within seconds he walked right past her.

“I see my party, but thanks anyway.”  The man walked towards the booth at the back of the diner.  On one side of the booth were two men.  One was dressed in a brightly colored t-shirt and cargo pants, and around his neck was a long gold chain with a gold club pendant.  The other man had cargo khakis and a black polo shirt, and he had a scowl on his face.  Sitting across from them was a man wearing a dress shirt with a red tie.  He was stirring his coffee with a forlorn look.  The man in the t-shirt looked up at him, and gestured to the open seat by the man in the red tie.  “Sorry I’m late.  Traffic.”

“It’s cool.  We were just waiting for you.  Not much else to do here.”

“How did we do?”  The man in the suit asked.

“I helped a young lady come out of her shell” the man in the t-shirt said.

“I…helped a woman stay in hers, in a manner of speaking” said the man in the dress shirt.  He lifted the spoon from his coffee, and watched the drops plop into the swirling maelstrom of caffeine.

“I kept one alive” said the angry man in a polo shirt.  His gaze was turned to the window, where he looked at the world outside with contempt.

“I just helped one be reborn, thanks to keeping her fiance on task” said the man in the suit.  He looked up as the waitress came over.

“Anything for you?” she asked.

“Just a coffee, thanks.”

“Are you guys old high school friends?  None of you look like you belong together.”

“It…it’s complicated” said the man in the t-shirt.

“And private” said the angry man in black, who was still looking out the window.

“We’re old friends” said the man in the dress shirt, who went back to stirring his coffee.

“We’re just getting together.  We try to meet once in a while.”  The man in the diamond tie smiled wide.  Hazel nodded and slowly walked away.

“Well, let’s get this over with.  Nothing is going to change.”  The man in black turned away from the window, and began staring at his wrist.  The man in the diamond tie pulled out a pocket watch.  The man in the t-shirt reached into a pocket and pulled out a cell phone.  The man in the dress shirt and red tie pulled a pager from his belt.

“It might this time” said the man in the diamond tie.

“Doubt it” said the man in the red tie.

“We’ll know soon” said the man in the t-shirt. Hazel walked over with a pot of coffee, but none of the men stopped their clock watching.  She poured the man in the diamond tie a coffee and walked way.  As she walked away, she suddenly was overcome with a strange, insatiable urge.  She walked to the cash register and quickly added up the ticket for that table.  She almost felt like she was outside of her own body as she grabbed one of the ratty old leather binders that they used during the day.  She inserted the check, and walked over to the booth.  She dropped the binder on the table and walked away, and she snapped out of the trance she was in without any warning.  Dizzy, she grabbed the counter by the cash register to keep from falling.  She looked over and saw the man with the diamond tie open the binder.  He threw it in the middle of the table, and all four men looked disappointed.  The man in the diamond tie quickly drank his coffee, and stood up.  He tossed something on the table and gestured to the other three men.  One by one, they all stood up and walked toward the exit.  The men began exiting, and the man in diamond tie hung behind them and watched them leave.  Hazel walked towards the booth, but the man in the diamond tie simply smiled.

“You can keep the change” he said as he walked towards the door.  Hazel watched him walk out, and then picked up the binder.  Inside, she found a hundred dollar bill.  In the center of the table, there was a four of diamonds face up, and there was something written on it.  She picked up the card, which only read ‘Albuquerque‘.  She walked quickly to the door, but there were no cars in the lot, and no headlights on the horizon…

Jack of Diamonds

Bryce kept staring straight down.

The mall was quieting down for the night.  It was a weekday, and closing time was less than an hour away.  The recessed lights were shining down onto the counters, and through the glass onto the waiting diamonds below.  Bryce had been staring at one ring in particular for a while.  His eyes had occasionally darted around the jewelry store, but the only woman he saw working was on the phone in a rather animated conversation about how she’d gotten a bad mocha at the coffee shop a few stores over.  His eyes had shifted back to the ring, and he just kept staring at it.  Lisa had been talking about rings for a while, and she had described a ring that looked just like this one.  Bryce drummed his fingers on the glass, and got ready to head for the wide open exit.  His eyes shifted focus from the diamonds behind the glass to the glass itself, where he saw his own reflection, along with the reflection of a man looking over his shoulder.  Bryce felt oddly uncomfortable, but the man started speaking before he could even turn around.

“Looks like you’ve zeroed in on a very nice ring” the man said.  His voice was calm and deep, and his face and hair almost made him look like a news anchor.  His black suit looked fresh off the rack, and his black tie was only broken up by one solitary red diamond that was centered exactly.

“Yeah…this one right here.  I…just…I mean, I’m not sure I want to buy it today.”

“Any particular reason?  Tight on cash?  The store is having a huge sale.”

“No…no.  I’ve got enough money socked away to pay for most, and I know I’ll qualify for the financing.”

The man squinted his eyes, and a smirk crept across his face.  “I think I understand.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t know if you’re ready to buy the ring, because  you don’t know if this is the woman you want to spend your life with.”

“Well…I don’t know if I’d go that far…”

“But you don’t think you’d go so far as to buy her the ring.”

Bryce looked away for a second.  The other store worker had her back turned, and was becoming more animated as her conversation went on.  “I gotta tell you…I sell insurance for a living, and you’re not doing a great sales pitch with me.”  He looked back at the man, who was still smirking.

“Ah, but I’m not the one who needs to do the selling.  You have to sell yourself on the ring, and your future.  If you found the perfect ring…”

“…what makes you think I found the perfect ring?”  Bryce was starting to shift his body language into a near-defensive posture.

“You’ve been staring at it for twenty minutes.  I’ve seen that look.  The only time I see that look is right before somebody takes the plunge.  You’ve got cold feet.”

“Hey, I didn’t come here to get psycho-analyzed.”

“Then why come here?”

Bryce wanted to leave the store.  His hands were balled into tight fists.  He couldn’t believe a ring salesman was going Dr. Phil on him.  “I came here to look over the rings.”

“Because you want to propose.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

“And here you are, with the perfect ring less than a yard away, and you’re ready to walk out without it.  Why?”  Bryce didn’t answer.  As angry as he was getting, there was a lot the salesman was getting right.  “You’re not sure she’s the one, are you?”

“Well…I’m mostly sure.  We’ve been dating a long time.”

“But there was another before her, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“But only one you thought about buying a ring for.  You though she was your soul-mate.”

Bryce’s hands were relaxing, and he felt himself easing up, partially because the salesperson was getting so much of the story right.  “I did” Bryce replied, not sure why he was still engaging in the conversation.

“There are things about the current woman you don’t like?”

“No, it isn’t that…I mean, sure, she chews her gum a bit loudly, her mother is nuts, she doesn’t like football…”

“Nothing major though, just a few little things?”

“Little things can add up.”

“Your ex…she didn’t have little things?”

“Well, not those exact things…”

“She had different things that bothered you?”

“I…I don’t know.  Yes?  Look, why are are you asking me all these questions?”

“The fact you came in to find a ring tells me you’re ready to make a big commitment.  Yet, you hesitate.  Does the current girl love you as much as the ex?”

“Yeah…maybe more.  She’s been with me longer…”

“Does she make you happy?”

Bryce nodded.  “Yeah, I’m sure of that.”

The smirk on the well dressed man shifted into a full smile.  “A wise man once said that love is the only chance you will ever have for happiness in this life.”

Bryce started to smile a bit.  “That sounds like some pretty good wisdom Mister…uh, what was your name again?”

“You can just call me Jack.”

“Well Jack, I was ready to storm out, but I think you’ve just sold me.”  Bryce turned back to the glass counter, and his eyes went back to the ring.  “I’m ready.”

“Great.  Sorry about the wait” came a woman’s voice from behind the counter.  Bryce looked up, and the red-haired worker who had been on the phone was now standing in front of him.  “I take it you want to get that one?”  She pointed right at the ring Bryce had been eyeing all night.

“That’s the one.  You guys are good.”

“Guys?”

“You and Jack” Bryce turned around, but he saw no one.

“Jack?”

“The guy in the suit who was in here?  I thought he worked here?”

“No…nobody else is working tonight besides me, and I know there’s nobody named Jack on the payroll.”

“Then…then who…”

“Who what?”

“Never mind.  I’ll just take that one.”  Bryce tried to shrug off the conversation, but it lingered in his head.  The clerk unlocked the case and lifted out the display with the ring he’d picked out.  “What the hell?”  The clerk dropped the display on the floor, and she and Bryce stared into the  case.  A jack of diamonds was showing face up where the display had been sitting.

King of Spades

“Before  you sits one of our most prized exhibits.  This simple drawing is all we have to go on.  The back side is a simple geometric pattern that seems to be of no consequence.  The front of this piece is what is very telling.

“First off, there is an unseen line that dissects the work, which makes it suitable for viewing both ways.  These people were more than likely bipedal, with two appendages for movement and two for grasping things.  Some have theorized we should take the drawing more literally, and assume these people had two heads, and one of them was, in some way, used for locomotion.  While seemingly a ridiculous theory, it can’t be totally dismissed as we know very little about these people.

“The subject of the drawing seems to have smaller appendages on the facial area.  Some have theorized that these lines are merely decorative, and still others think it’s some kind of symbiotic relationship.  We have observed some bipedal species with something called ‘hair’, and that theory is the best one, as far as this museum is concerned.  The thicker lines on the head could be hair or this species had several orifices on what we believe is the face.

“At the top of what we believe to be the head is the subject of heated debate.  This yellow, decorated quadrilateral might be some form of head calcification.  It might be a simply decorative type of headband.  It could be a sign of fertility or a mating ritual.  The shape could also indicate a bowl structure.  More bizarre theories indicate that it is some kind of receiver, and this drawing is that of an automaton. 

“This long forgotten person is holding what appears to be a weapon of some kind.  This would indicate that this particular member of the species was some kind of authority figure, or possibly someone specialized in the field of warfare.  The weapon itself appears to pointed, and well suited to stabbing.  The strange pointed symbol with two rounded lumps on the bottom could indicate which part of the planet he came from, or which faction he fights for or leads.  His attire (skin, according to at least one researcher) is adorned with this symbol, and the symbol appears above his shoulder, and outside the border of the artwork.  The symbol that is made of seven lines could be his rank, age, or possibly his name. 

“We may never know the secrets that this piece of artwork holds.  As you know, it was found drifting in an uncharted star system.  The third planet of the system had apparently been destroyed by several comet or asteroid strikes over the course of several hundred years.  We found no artifacts or organic material among the rubble of the third planet, but we found this drifting in space, as if by accident, near the fifth planet.  The vacuum of space kept it preserved, and you are seeing it here and now, the first evidence that, at least at one point in time, we were not alone in the universe.”

The museum patron moved away from the framed artifact to the next exhibit.  His mind drifted to that far away star system as the movement sensors triggered the audio for another exhibit.

Six of Clubs

8:30 PM, somewhere in Nebraska

Evan slowly walked towards the tree.  It was the only tree still standing that he could see.  All the leaves were gone, and the bark had been stripped away on most of the old cottonwood tree.  Rain pelted Evan’s face as he put his hand on the damp trunk.  He looked down, and slowly took in deep breath after deep breath.  His free hand was still shaking, but after a minute or two, it was holding steady at his side.  He looked up at the tree, and a foot above his hand, he spotted something.

Three hours earlier

“Dude, this is going to be the day!”  Scooter started spinning the tuning knob on the car, but other than bursts of static and song Evan didn’t hear anything.  He was too busy watching the skies and the road, and in that order.

“I still don’t think this is the day.  Besides, I’m not sure I want there to be a day.”

“Evan, for real?  We went to that spotter training class two years in a row.  We’ve been sitting on the sidelines for a while.  It is time to embrace our time in the storm chasing spotlight.  We both have the evening off, we both got away from our girlfriends, and our cell phones are fully charged.”  Scooter was pressing F5 the whole time he was talking, and when he stopped talking he looked at the screen of his laptop.  “Severe thunderstorm warnings two counties over.  I think we might finally see our first tornado.”

“Will one be enough for you?”  Evan said.  He fumbled around the steering wheel until the windshield wipers were on, as they had driven into the very front of a massive storm system.

“I hear the urge only gets stronger the more often you see ‘em.”  Scooter yanked the data card from the side of his computer.  “We go West.  I’ll check radar in another half hour or so.”

Two hours earlier

Scooter tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along with the rhythm of some old song on the radio.  They were the only car at the small town convenience store.  The skies were dark all around, and rain was pounding whatever surface it could find.  Evan ran from the store to the car, and even his rapid opening of the door, followed by a loud slam, didn’t disrupt Scooter’s finger drumming.  “How much?”

“This one’s on me.  I’ll need a good, stiff drink when we’re done.  In the meantime, root beer will have to do.”  Evan tossed Scooter a bag of Corn Nuts and an Orange Crush as he adjusted the passenger seat.  Scooter ripped open the corner of the bag of Corn Nuts, while Evan downed half a bottle of Barq’s in record time.

“This station just broke into programming with a warning.  The action is on the other side of the next county over.”  Scooter turned the keys, and his Subaru came back to life.  Evan’s face quickly recovered from the burning sensation of carbonated root beer taking an expressway into his stomach.

“Seriously, don’t hydroplane this time.  Last time we went off looking for a bad storm,  you were all over the place.  I didn’t bring my motion sickness pills.”

“That’s not my fault” Scooter said as the Subaru quickly darted back onto a Nebraska state highway.

One hour ago

“DUDE!  ARE YOU SEEING THIS?”  Scooter’s voice was full of life and excitement.  It carried over the sounds of hailstones hitting his car.

“YES, YES I AM.  I’M SEEING A FEW SMALL CRACKS ON YOUR WINDSHIELD.”  Evan had a small camcorder aimed at the windshield, but his body was pressed flat against the seat.  The hail was coming down fast, and the rain was hitting them almost horizontally.

“THIS…THIS IS FRIGGIN’ AWESOME!”  Scooter sounded as excited as Evan was scared.  The radio crackled with heavy static as the car kept speeding into the heart of the storm.

“THIS IS CRAZY!”  Evan kept thinking about all the things he’d  never done in his life, even though most of them were things he couldn’t do, shouldn’t do, or probably wouldn’t do if given the opportunity.

“THIS…THIS IS WHAT WE’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT DOING FOR YEARS!  FINALLY, WE’RE GETTING ONE!  TORNADO, HERE WE COME!!!”

Thirty minutes ago

Evan and Scooter’s jaws were almost dragging behind the car.  They had pulled to a stop when the EAS sounded on the radio.  A massive tornado was maybe a few miles ahead of them to the West.  The dull roar was just barely audible over the tone on the radio.  They were in the middle of nowhere, and there was no other car in sight.  “We…we have to get into a ditch or under a bridge!” Evan’s words came out in a quick burst of verbiage, and he was trying to open his car door while Scooter’s face was locked on the storm, his eyes following the dark finger of the heavens as it smeared the Nebraska landscape.

“It’s coming this way…if we drive at a ninety degree angle…”

“No way!  They can change track quickly!”

“They can also dissipate quickly.  We can do this.”

“I can’t…you’re insane!  I don’t know why I agreed to this…Felicia is going to kill me!”  Evan opened the car door.  The roar was even louder now.  The tornado didn’t look like it was moving, but it looked like it was getting bigger and closer every second.

“I’m going to make a go for it.  I’m not giving up now that we found one.  I need more footage!  I’ve never felt more alive!  Evan, don’t you feel alive?”  Scooter’s eyes briefly broke away from the storm, only to see Evan slamming the car door before he ran for the ditch.  Scooter rolled down the passenger window, and twisted his body towards it.  “I’LL FIND YOU LATER!”  Scooter floored the accelerator, and he turned the car Northward.  He was soon steering with his knees as he tried to get footage of the storm.

8:31 PM, somewhere in Nebraska

Evan sidestepped to his right to see what was in the tree.  Halfway stuck in the tree was a playing card.  It was wedged into a newly formed crack, just like it had been thrown into the tree by one of those card-throwers he’d seen on Letterman.  The rain was dripping down the plastic-coated six of clubs, of which only two clubs were visible.  Evan reached up as high as he could, and he grabbed the corner of the card.  It slid out of the tree, and then Evan just looked at the spot where the card had been.  There was what looked like a small crack, other than it was perfect, straight line.  Evan slid the card into his back pocket.  With his other hand, he reached into his front pocket.  He pulled out his phone, which still had a few bars of service.  He pressed the number five, and hit send.  “C’mon Scooter…pick up.  Please…”

Two of Diamonds

Two Island Lake: Part 2 of 4 (Part 1)

“Here’s your order, hot and fresh!”  Dez Diamond forced a big smile as she haned the bag of tacos to the man in the car.  The man flashed a quick smile and drove away.  Dez kept smiling as the car drove away.  Once the car was back on the street, her smile vanished.  “You’re lucky I don’t believe in spitting in the food here” she mumbled to herself.

“What’s that?” Dez put her smile back on as her eyes met Scott’s eyes.  Scott was almost thirty, and had spent the better part of his post high school life working his way up to night manager at Taco John’s.  He was starting to push 300 pounds, and his hairline was in full retreat.

“Just happy to serve supper to our glorious principal.”

“Heh” Scott said.  “I never top off his potato oles.  I can’t believe he still has that job.  He was old when I graduated.”

“He’s only older and crankier.  I’m glad you’re understanding about detention.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t pass me on the all time list.”  Scott tore open a new bag of oles while Dez looked at the entrance, just in time to see Corey and Hannah walk in.

“Welcome to Taco Johns bitches!”  Dez said in an excited voice.

“Slow night?” Hannah said as she looked around at the empty tables.

“Slow enough.  Where have you two been?”

“I finally got to visit one of the islands on Two Island Lake, thanks to Corey and his dad’s boat.”

“Eh, it was nothing” Corey said while he read over the menu again.  He was finally starting to put the weird feeling the North island had given him.

“So, what can I get you two, or did you just come in to chat?”

“Taco salad” Corey said.

“I’m buying.  Just give me the super burrito combo.”  Hannah said.

“You’re positively glowing” Dez remarked as she started pressing the buttons on the cash register.  “That good of an island huh?”  Dez’s wicked grin caught Hannah’s eye, and Hannah’s hat caught Dez in the face.

“It was, but not like that you perv!  Scott, you need to have a word with your staff.”

“Hey, if she shows up, I’m happy.”

“Here’s your hat” Dez said as the threw it back.  “Next time I’ll fill it with nacho cheese.  You total is seven-thirty-nine.”

“It was a really peaceful island.  It might be a good spot for one of our last Friday nights.”

“Really?  What about police and game wardens?”

“The lake is only accessible by gravel roads.  Plus, my dad’s been taking me fishing there since I was a little girl, most of the time without a license.  Nobody ever checks on that lake.”

“Yeah, because you never catch anything” Corey chimed in from a corner booth.  Without looking, Hannah threw her red hat in his direction.  It bounced off a window and fell to the ground.  “Your aim isn’t much better.”

“How about tomorrow?  I think I can talk to my supplier…” Dez raised her voice near the end of her statement, and she glanced back at Scott, who was nodding.

“Corey, how about it?  Can  you get the boat for a Friday night?”

Corey’s face froze for a moment.  He knew his parents were going out of town tomorrow, but the feeling of dread from the other island was suddenly vivid in his mind again.  “Uh…maybe?  Why do we have to go back?  There were a few farms around.  Maybe they’d see us and call somebody?”

“Yeah right” Dez said as she slid a tray towards Hannah.  “I say we go tomorrow.  I’ll call Seth.  We only have a few more of these before graduation.  Corey, make it happen!”

“Okay okay” Corey said.  “I can get the boat.  Just no exploring the North island.”

“Friday nights aren’t for exploring silly” Hannah said as she wrapped her lips around the straw of her soda and took a long drink.

“We’ll see what the night brings in that regard” Corey said as he picked up Hannahs’ cap.

***

*RING*

“Spade residence” Seth said.  He took a deep breath and braced for the questions that he had few answers for.

“Seth?”

“Dez!” Seth exhaled in a sigh of brief happiness and relief.  “It’s good to hear your voice.  It’s been a long day.”

“Final paper getting you down?”

“Yeah…” Seth glanced at his backpack.  His final paper was sitting on the table by it, ready to be turned in two weeks early.

“I thought you had a good start on that?”

“Writers block…what’s up?  Is this about Friday?”

“Indeed it is!  Hannah found a great place to have a good ol’ fashioned beerfest.  Small island in the middle of some lake nobody cares about.  Full moon and everything, so no worries about lights.  Just you, me, Hannah and Corey.”

“That’s it?”

“The big party is next week.  We need to prepare before graduation.  Are you in?”

“I think so.  I can find a good story to get out of the house.”

“Great.  We’re leaving around eight or so.  You can fill us in at school tomorrow.”

“Actually…I don’t know if I’ll be in.  I…have an appointment.”

“Dentist?”

“Sure” Seth was nodding vigorously before he realized he was on the phone.

“Well, I work after school at TJ’s until seven, so that’s where you can find me.  Gotta go!”  Dez’s voice was suddenly gone, and Seth calmly hung up the phone.  He walked out of the dining room, and he started walking up the stairs of his parent’s house.  The stairway had picture frame fragments and broken glass peppering the carpet.  He slowly pushed open the door of his parent’s room.  His mom was still crying as she threw clothes into a suitcase.

***

Scott walked into Taco Johns on Friday night as casually as ever.  Nikki and Steve were hard at work, and Dez was waiting patiently.  “Did you already clock out?” Scott asked.

“I came in a little early.  You can check if you want.”

“Nah.  Good enough.”

“Oh, here’s my note about not working tomorrow.  Doctor stuff.”  She handed him a folded piece of paper, with money folded inside of it.

“Good enough.  Have a nice night.”

“You too” Dez said as she grabbed her cup.  She casually walked out and to the back of the Taco Johns.  She casually opened the trunk of Scott’s car, and she quickly moved the case of beer and bottles over to her trunk.  She looked around as she closed her trunk, and satisfied that no one was watching she got into her car.  She flipped open her cell and called Hannah.  “Pick up already” Dez said before Hannah’s phone even rang.

“Hey you” Hannah said.  “We’re all at Corey’s.”

“Really?  I tried to call Seth all day.  Is he there?”

“Yeah, he walked over.  He’s kinda quiet today.”

“How can you tell?  Listen, we’re good to go.  I’ll be there soon, then it’s off to our island getaway.”

***

Corey chugged the rest of his energy drink.  Seth was just sitting on the couch.  “The TV works you know.  How about some Wii Bowling?”

“Nah, that’s okay.  I’m cool.  Just ready to get drunk.”

“Rough day at the dentist?”

“Wha?”

“The dentist” Corey said.  “Dez said you were at the dentist or something today.”

“Oh…that went fine.  Just thought I’d milk it and not show up today.”

“You didn’t miss much.  You dad have a dentist appointment too?  He wasn’t in today either.”  Seth just stared at the TV’s blank screen.  “Seth?”

“Sorry…he…I…we…mom…and dad are out this weekend.  Something came up.”

“Came up?”  Corey wasn’t buying it, but something told him not to pry.

“Family…crap…I told them I had to finish my paper.”

“Good enough.  I wonder why we’re going out to this damn island.  I mean, my parents are gone…your parents are gone…Dez’s parents are barely around…and yet we’re going to some lake?”

“Beats me.  If it’s just the four of us, why is Hannah doing her make-up?”  Seth still didn’t make eye contact with Corey.

“That’s Hannah.  I think we should talk her into staying in town.”

“Why are you so against this island?”  Seth finally looked at Corey, but Corey then looked away.

“No reason” Corey mumbled as he walked back to the kitchen.  He crumpled the empty energy drink can in his hand as he walked.

***

“Finally!”  Dez was the last out of the truck.  She had already drank two beers during the ride to Two Island Lake.  Hannah and Corey were easing the boat into the water, while Seth was holding the beer case and shopping bag.  Dez threw her arm around Seth, and Seth jumped a bit.  The glass in the shopping bag clinked slightly.  “You okay?”

“Just…stuff and stuff.  Nothing I want to talk about.”

“Seth…c’mon.  We’ve all been friends since grade school.  You can tell me.  Is it girl trouble.”

“I wish” Seth said.  “It’s nothing.  Let’s just get on the boat and get drunk.”

“I’m two beers ahead of ya” Dez said.  She looked over towards the boat.  “What’s with the fog?”  A low, thick fog was now blanketing the countryside and the lake.  It was the first fog Dez had seen so far tonight.

“Must be the air.  It is a bit humid.  All aboard!”  Hannah was already on the boat, and Corey, Seth and Dez soon followed.

Eight of Clubs

Bob Eubanks flipped over the card.  “Ohhh…it’s the eight of clubs!”  The contestant put her hands to her overteased hair.  Her face was a twisted mass of confusion and apprehension.

“Higher” she said in an unsure, timid voice.

“Higher than the eight…NO!” Bob said with as much fake sympathy as he could muster.  The reigning Card Sharks champion lowered her head to her podium as flashing lights surrounded the new champion.

“I tell you son…nothing worse than an eight in this game.”  The man snorted lightly and then took another large gulp of his Pabst, followed by a long drag from his cigarette.

“But dad, I like the number eight.  I’m eight.”

“Nothing wrong with the number eight…I’m just talkin’ about this show.  When they get an eight, there’s an equal number of cards above it and below it in the deck, but the trick is to remember how the deck is stacked.”

“So that’s how to win?”

“Not really.  I was watching.  She made the right call and still got it wrong.  That’s a good lesson for life.  Sometimes the eight comes up, and all you can do is guess and hope for the best.  A lot of life’s choices are like that.”

“Yeah, like marrying you” came a voice from the nearby kitchen.  The man threw his empty beer can towards the comment.  Percy looked back at the TV as the bonus round began.  If he focused on that, he could maybe tune out another argument his parents were having.  He had tried it often, but it never worked.

***

“Percy…PERCY!  Are you even listening to me?”  Percy snapped out of his childhood flashback.  He could smell the alcohol and smoke all around him.  The bar was loud, but Ray’s shouting was hard to ignore.

“Yeah…what’s this about?”

“It’s about work.  There’s a speaker in town who’s giving a free lecture to all of us who got let go when the plant closed.  I’m goin’.  There’s free food.  I think you should come.”

“Yeah…” Percy looked down at his empty beer bottle.  He didn’t have enough cash to keep drinking, and he hadn’t eaten since the plant closed the day before.  “Is this guy going to tell me how to make rent?”

“Worry about that another day.  I’m goin’ for the free food.  Are you in or out?”

“In.  I just need to settle up.”  He dropped a few ones on the bar and followed Ray out to the lot.  Ray’s brown Impala was parked right out front in a handicapped spot. “I can’t believe you still have that permit.”

“Taking a metal shard through the knee isn’t something you get over right away.  That and my doctor is a sucker for a good sob story.”  Ray’s rust-bucket roared to life, and Percy shoved a seat full of soda cans and gum wrappers onto the floor.  He stared out the window as Ray droned on and on about his girlfriend and their problems.  Percy kept thinking about making the rent for next month, finding a job, his parents, and the army.  He thought about trying to join the army again, but his criminal record would probably have the final say once again.  Ray smacked him on the arm suddenly.

“I know you stopped paying attention a long time ago, but we’re here.”  Ray and Percy got out and started walking into the hotel.  They followed the signs until they found a conference room, which was almost full.  Percy looked at the sign, but he’d never heard of James Styng or something called Arbco Strategies and Marketing.  Ray and Percy spotted a table filled with pizzas, and they went right over.

“Are you two here for the seminar?” a young woman in red asked.

“We certainly are” the men said in unison.

“Well, it’s all you can eat.  I just need some basic information.  Name, address…but I promise we won’t send you junk mail.”

“Fair enough” Ray said.  Percy started filling in the info as quickly as he could.  Soon, both he and ray were in their seats, each with a plate full of pizza.  “Man, this is the good stuff.  This is from the best place in town.”

“Well, it’s worth whatever scam this guy is peddling.”  Percy said.  No sooner did he finish than the woman in red had made her way to the podium.

“Ladies and gentleman, James Styng!”  The room responded to his intro with lukewarm applause.  James Styng walked to the front of the room.  He had on black jeans, a deep blue denim shirt, and a red tie.  He looked very young, fit, and athletic.  He didn’t have any props, gadgets or even a note card.  He took the microphone off the stand, and walked in front of the podium.  His face was totally serious.

“Good evening everyone.  Glad to see we had such a great turnout.  I suppose you’re wondering why I bribed you all to show up?”  The room let out a small snicker, and James flashed a quick smile before once again looking stern and forthright.  “Well, I’ll tell you what I didn’t do to get you to show up.  That’s close the factory in town.  That’s the reason quite a few of you are here.  Did you know the company that owned the factory is sending your jobs to Mexico, Taiwan and China?  It’s true.  They’re also hiding millions…maybe even billions in offshore accounts.  Yet their stock continues to trade high, and your federal government is looking the other way.  They’re too busy looking at you…all of you.  Most jobs in this town are looking for college educated elites.  The government isn’t interested in giving you more education to help you get those jobs.  It only wants you to get jobs quickly, so it can begin taxing you all over again.  Taxing you and keeping you in the working class, while the upper class makes light of your plight.  People, I want to help.  You are not the problem.  You are all hard workers who want to make a living.  I’m here to tell you about how we can all make a difference.  A major difference in this country…in this world!  Arbco is looking for the kind of people in this room.  People who have the potential to inflict change.  People who want another chance.  People who not only want, but DESERVE to be heard, seen, and counted.  We have programs to help retrain you…maybe even educate you.  We don’t care about who you were before you came tonight.  Arbco is here to make you into the people who can help us change the world!  Dare I say revolutionize the world?  Together, we can make a real difference.  My associates and I are going to hand out some questionnaires…please be honest when filling them out.  Take your time, and don’t be afraid to ask questions.  Then, we’ll split you into groups and discuss future opportunities with Arbco.  Before we begin, I need to mention that Arbco doesn’t have an office branch in this town.  If you wish to work for Arbco, there’s a very good chance you’ll have to move.  If that doesn’t work, I thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoyed the pizza.”  James Styng was smiling by the end of his speech, and soon a stapled questionnaire was being handed to Percy.  Ray refused his when they presented it to him.

“Sorry…I’m not willing ot relocate.  C’mon Percy.”  Ray stood up, but Percy didn’t.

“Actually, I’m going to fill it out and talk to them.” Percy had already started filling in his personal info.

“Whatever.  I’m not waiting around.”  Ray tugged on Percy’s shoulder, but the woman in red shot him a glare that made him let go almost instantly.

“No worries.  We can give you a ride home Mr. Willis.”  The woman in red had walked over quickly, and she was nothing but smiles now that Ray had released Percy’s shoulder.

“Thanks…Miss…Miss…”

“You can call me Miss Demming.”

“All right.  Let me know how it all turns out” Ray casually walked out the door, but Percy didn’t watch him leave.  He was too busy reading the questionnaire.  He honestly answered the questions about his criminal background, and even the questions about his family’s histories of addiction and abuse.  Most of the questions had to do with his attitudes on the U.S. Government, and various world powers, which he found a bit odd.  There was also a section asking about his knowledge of survival and firearms.  Several minutes after he had turned in his questionnaire, he was enjoying more of the free pizza when James Styng came up to him.

“I read through your info.  I just want you to know that we have a place for you within our organization.  You’re the type we’re looking for.  Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did you ever want to join the army, or some other branch of the armed forces?”

“Oh, for sure, but I made some dumb mistakes when I was younger.  Wrong way on pretty much every eight.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…I just want to start over.  Your company seriously won’t hold my mistakes over my head?”

“No.  Quite the contrary.  I think you’ll be just what this company needs.  In fact, we can start you tomorrow…”

***

“You’re WHAT?” Ray shouted over the phone.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning.  Six AM sharp.  I don’t know when I’ll be back.  You have my apartment key.  Please keep an eye on my stuff.  My rent is up in two weeks.  You owe me for helping you move.”

“I know I know, but this is so sudden.  But whatever.  I’ll haul your crap out and put it in my garage.  What are you going to do?”

“Arbco security the way it sounds.  If I do well there, there are opportunities for me to advance…possibly even to law school.”

“Law school?  What the hell?  How does that work?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.  You take care of yourself and that lady friend.  You’re my favorite cousin, no matter what.”

“Back at ya.  Don’t forget to write.”

***

Ray rubbed his eyes as he slowly made his way down the stairs.  It was just cold enough that his sore knee was acting up.  He moved the thin curtain in front of the door’s window, and Percy was looking back at him.  Ray hurriedly fumbled the lock and opened the door.  “Percy?  Is that you?”

“It is.  I can’t stay long.”  Ray looked Percy over.  Percy’s hair was cut into a neat crew cut, and his face was tan.  He was wearing a black jacket that looked a bit thin for Michigan in November.  His blue pants were neatly pressed, and his boots were laced up and looking brand new.

“You look great.  I was starting to worry about you.”  Ray closed the door as Percy walked in.  Percy blew into his hands and looked around from the entryway.

“Do you have some coffee?”

“Sure…sure.”  Ray walked into the kitchen, and Percy was right behind him.  Ray fired up the coffee maker as Percy sat at the kitchen table, still blowing into his hands.  “Percy, where the hell have you been?  This is the first I’ve heard from you in eighteen months!”

“Sorry…the job…it’s…more involved than I thought.  It’s kept me really busy.  Technically, I’m not even supposed to be here talking to you.”

“You’re AWOL from your job?”

“No…no.  I…just had an assignment around here, and I took the initiative to come and see you.  I miss you man.”

“Things aren’t the same without you around.  Naomi and I are living together now.  I’d love for you to come to our wedding in a year or so.  Right after I propose anyway.”

“I’ll try.  I’d like that.”

Ray watched the coffee drip slowly into the pot.  “So, what the heck does Arbco do anyway?  I couldn’t find much info…anywhere.  In fact, I can’t find anybody who’s even heard of Arbco.”

Percy looked about the kitchen nervously.  “Well, we…uh…we do a lot of contract work with Extensive Enterprises.  Have you heard of them?”

“No…wait, yes I have.  Naomi’s brother does a lot of stock trading, and he’s always raving about how well his EE stocks are doing.  What do they do?”

“Financial stuff…I mostly do…security…but they have branches everywhere.  I move around a lot.”

“What about training?  I thought this Arbco outfit was going to retrain you.”  Ray sat the coffee in front of Percy, but Percy’s face was almost blank.  He looked timid yet on the verge of exploding.

“I’ve learned a lot of stuff.  I’m hoping to get some advanced training in soon…things are good.  I finally found a place to belong.”  Percy slowly sipped his coffee, while Ray kept looking at a man who seemed uncomfortable in his home, and uncomfortable talking about being away from home.

***

“I got it” Ray said as he walked to the door.  He was hoping it would be Percy, as he hadn’t heard from him in two years, and Ray wanted him at his wedding in a few weeks.  Ray opened the door, only to see two men in army dress uniforms outside his door. One was an African-American sergeant, the other was a Caucasian lieutenant with longer hair than Ray would have expected.

“Are you Ray Willis?” the sergeant asked.  The name Wilkinson caught the sunlight as he asked.  Ray could feel the man’s glare though the dark glasses that hid Wilkinson’s eyes.

“I am…what’s this about?’

“Your cousin…Percy Willis…does that ring a bell?”  The blond lieutenant was now talking.  Ray spotted the name Rich on his uniform.

“Yeah….he was last here about two years ago.  I was actually hoping he was going to be you…I mean, him knocking…I mean…what’s this about?”

“I’m afraid you cousin has passed away.  I’m sorry for your loss” Wilkinson said.

“Percy’s dead?”  Ray slumped against the side of his home.  He looked down at the porch and shook his head.  “What happened?”

“I’m afraid there…was an incident.  The actual details are classified.  We are sorry for your loss, but we need to ask a question.”

“Oh…okay…”  Ray looked up at the sergeant.  The blond man was staring at him without glasses.  It felt like he was looking right through him.

“Before he died, he mumbled something about eights.  Do you know what that meant?”

“Percy loved that old game show Card Sharks.  He always went on about how…eights were a lot like life.  He claimed he always went wrong on them, but the last time I saw him he said that this Arbco company was the right call.  Why?”

The blond man nodded and started walking towards a black Humvee that was parked in front of Ray’s house.  The sergeant took off his glasses and looked down.  “Before he died, he was mumbling something about eights and dying.  We just wanted to make sure of what he was talking about.  Thanks for your time.  You’ll probably be getting a call from the funeral home pretty soon.”  Ray fought back tears as the black Humvee drove off down the street.

Nine of Hearts

Dr. Mosely tapped his pen on his glasses.  The rhythm of eighth notes wasn’t helping him finish the task that was reflecting in his glasses. He took another deep breath, and he moved the pen in front of his eyes.  He carefully examined how much ink he could see through the transparent midsection of the pen, and then his left hand whisked it away.  He began tapping another unsteady rhythm on his glasses when he heard a buzzing sound.  He tucked the pen into the pocket of his lab coat, and he directed the arrow on the screen to a taskbar.  An excel document shot up as Dr. Mosely slowly stood up.  He ran his hands down from the part in his hair as he walked to the door.  He opened the door, and a woman wearing a lot of blue stood before him.  Her blue blouse and blue slacks didn’t quite match, and her athletic shoes were a beacon of white on an unathletic body.  Her dirty blond hair was short and in a bob that wasn’t being well maintained.  She looked older than she should, and there was no makeup to hide what the years had been like.  Dr. Mosely nodded and stood aside so she could walk in.  The woman hesitated, and Dr. Mosely let a small smile emerge.  “Relax” he said.  “First trip to the morgue?”

“Yeah, more or less.  I’ve seen a few people die in the hospital, but that’s it.”  She slowly walked into the cold room, and Dr. Mosely shut the door behind her.

“They told me you would be down today.  Would you like to view the body?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Mosely walked slowly over to the wall of metal drawers.  He found the right one and pulled the lever.  Before he pulled open the drawer, he turned to the woman.  “I’m sorry…I didn’t catch your relation to the deceased Miss Prouse.”

“Mrs. Cynthia Carrabella now.  I haven’t been Miss Prouse in a long time.  Harl was my brother.”

“Harl?”

“Sorry” Cynthia said.  “Harrold.  We always called him Harl when we were all kids.  Harl was the eighth of the ten of us.  We all had nicknames for each other.”

“Ah” Dr. Mosely said.  He pulled open the chilled metal drawer, and Cynthia tried not to show any emotion as she looked upon her dead brother.  “He’s bigger than I remember, but that’s him” she replied.

“We didn’t need you here for identification Mrs. Carrabella.  The fingerprints did the trick.”  Dr. Mosely watched as she slowly walked up to the drawer.  The body looked peaceful, but the scars, tattoos, scrapes, burns and grime told a story that was anything but peaceful.  She looked him over until she reached the head, where a bullet wound had entered near his right temple.

“Was it self defense?”  She said.  Her voice remained strong and defiant as she slowly rubbed her own temples.  She began pacing at the foot of the drawer.

“That’s the report I’m getting from the police.  He was trying to shoot his way out of a botched hold-up at an Exxon on 14th Street.  Tox won’t be in for a while, but he looks to me like he’s on a few different drugs.  He was wanted in several robberies and assaults.”

“Harl was a wild child for a time.  He left the family under less than ideal circumstances.”

“If you don’t mind me asking Mrs. Carrabella, do you know what the tattoo on his right arm might mean?  I’ve seen all of them before, except that one.  It looks like the oldest.”

Cynthia slowly took a few steps and looked at the body’s bicep.  A faded tattoo of a nine of hearts was all by itself.  She said nothing, but her face was softening up.  For the first time since she’d walked in, she looked sad.  “I know what it is.”

“Really?  I’ve seen aces, kings, queens, jacks and the like, but never just a nine.”

“Back on the family farm, our golden retriever Sassy was expecting a litter.  Dad said we could each keep a puppy if we took good care of it.  He was convinced Harl would mistreat his, or do something horrible to it.  He took an old deck of playing cards, and he dealt out nine cards, one to each of us.  My oldest brother was in college, so dad made sure Harl got the nine.  He thought there was no way Harl would get a puppy that way.  Imagine…imagine his surprise when Sassy had nine puppies.  The last was the runt of the litter, so dad told Harl he had to spend every waking second with it until it was able to eat on it’s own.  He thought Harl would lose interest and nature would do the rest.  The thing is…Harl slept out in the barn for two weeks to make sure his puppy made it.  He fed it every few hours, and he made sure it was never cold.  It was like he was a different person.  He had almost failed second grade, and when the fall came and he went back to school, the teacher asked my parents if we were playing a joke on her by finding a different kid.  Nine turned his personality totally around.”

“Nine?”

“Harl named him Nine.  Dad said there was no way puppy number nine would make it, and Harl kept telling him nine would live.  The name kind of stuck.  God, he loved that dog.  Nine waited every day for him to come home.  He made the rest of us look bad because he took such good care of  Nine.  Do you know I don’t even remember what I named my puppy?  I was such a poor dog owner that my parents gave mine away in less than six months.  Harl became the best and the brightest of all of us.  Nine filled some kind of void he had.”

“What happened to him?”  Dr. Mosely walked to the foot of the drawer.  He kept his eyes where there were tissues.  Cynthia looked on the verge of crying.

“Nine lived a long, good life.  Harl found a college where he didn’t have to live on campus, and he had even found an apartment that let dogs live there.  Six weeks before college Nine died of natural causes.  Harl didn’t even know she was sick.  The vet said it looked like old age.  The other siblings and I all chipped in to get Nine a spot in a pet cemetery.  Harl cried for a week straight after the funeral.  He seemed all right after that, but then a week before college he just disappeared.  That was the last time any of us saw him.”

“According to his age…that would be almost twenty years ago.”

“I know…we all knew about the arrests, but he didn’t want to see any of us.  Granted, none of us made a great effort to see him.  Mom and dad died a few years ago, and our oldest brother died last year.  Everybody asked me about him, since I was the only one who had talked to him in the last twenty years.  We talked all of three times…every time he was asking for money, and every time I hung up on him.”  Cynthia reached out and touched the nine of hearts on the body’s arm.  The skid was cold to the touch, and Cynthia recoiled in horror instantly.

“I’m sorry” Dr. Mosely said.  He slowly pushed the drawer back into the wall.  As the latch locked, he looked to the right only to see Cynthia almost out the door.

“I…I’ll make arrangements with the funeral home…when…when do you think…think…”

“The body should be released in the next day or so.  Just have whichever funeral home call me.  I know them all, and they all do a great job.”

“Thank you…” Cynthia softly uttered, right before she flew up the stairs.  Dr. Mosely walked over to the stairway and closed the door.  He walked back over to the computer and minimized his excel document, which revealed his fantasy baseball team.

“Now, which shortstop is the better option” he said aloud to himself.  He sat back down, pulled out his pen, and once again started tapping his glasses.

Jack of Spades

“Can I help you find something sir?”

Slowly, the man pushing the shopping cart turned around.  His hair was neatly combed, and his shirt was firmly pressed.  He had a big smile on his face as he shook his head.  “No, I’m just picking up a few supplies.  A little bit of everything.”

“I see.  I think you’re making a mistake.”  The worker in the blue polo shirt kept his hands behind his back.  The well dressed customer kept smiling, but the demeanor behind his eyes shifted.  He looked over the worker, and his eyes shifted to his name tag.

“I don’t follow…Jack.” The man had turned his body to the man, who kept smiling as he looked over his shoulder.

“That shovel.  It’s the cheap model, but you’ll regret buying it.  We take back so many of those in returns…can I show you something?”

“Uh…sure” the well dressed man said.  Jack walked to a nearby wall that had several shovels hanging up.  He picked out the one right next to the model the well dressed man had in his shopping cart.

“This model right here?  This is what you’ll want.  It has a tempered steel spade, and the d-top is always what you want when you’re digging something.  Also, it has a wider spade for increased shovel capacity.  It also has a limited five year warranty.”

“Sounds like one heck of a shovel.  I don’t do much digging, but thanks for the advice.”

“I really think you should reconsider.  You don’t want your shovel breaking in the middle of a big job.  Who has time to go get a new one?  I promise you, this one won’t break for years.  I’ve seen that model come back the same day, broke right in half.”

“Look, again…I don’t do much shoveling.”

“This one only costs five dollars more, and isn’t peace of mind worth five bucks?”  Jack held out the more expensive shovel, smiling all the while.  The man’s smile slowly receeded, and he walked over and took the shovel from Jack’s hands.  He balanced it and gripped it, and then put it in his cart.

“I think you might be right.  I’ll go with this one.”

“Sir, you won’t be disappointed.”

The well dressed man smiled and thanked Jack again.  He pushed his cart around the hardware store, eventually finding a few more items.  As he was checking out, he noticed a man whose nametag said “Wallace:manager” walking by.  “I just want to say, Jack over in tools is quite a salesman.  He probably saved me a big headache with this shovel.”  The well dressed man took his change and nodded as he walked out the door.  The manager walked over to the cashier with a perplexed look on his face.

“Vera…do we have a Jack working in tools today?”

“I didn’t know we had anyone named Jack working here, period.”

Wallace turned and started walking to the tool section.  Vera looked out the window into the parking lot, where she saw the well dressed man driving off in a sport utility vehicle.  A brown Impala from the early 1970s followed him out of the parking lot.

***

“So, what happened then Tina?”

“Oh Kelly, it was a nightmare.  First he started showing up at work.  Granted, there isn’t any policy that states he can’t come to the club, but he would just sit in the back and stare at me during my stage sets.  He’d stare at me when I was giving lap dances, and he’d even stare at me while he was getting lap dances from any of the other girls.  It was just too much.  The other girls claim he’s really nice and friendly, plus loaded.  I can’t get my boss to have the bouncers keep an eye on him.”

“Are you still thinking about moving?”

“I don’t know.  This town only has one strip club, and I really like my friends outside of the job.  The girls at the club are really great too.  I knew I shouldn’t have tried to date somebody while I was still working there.”

“Any luck on finding another job?”

“No.  Nobody is hiring, and anyone with the money to hire is blowing it at the club.  Our business is as strong as ever.”

“Did you apply to the college there?”

“I can’t go.  I don’t have the money.  I had to get a totally new car a few weeks ago.  I…hang on, somebody is at the door.”  Tina walked to the front door, keeping the cellphone by her hip.  She saw flashing lights outside before she could open the door.  “Kelly, I’ll need to call you back.”  Tina tossed the phone into a small tray filled with keys and change, and she opened the door.

“Tina Nix?” the officer asked.

“Yes…”

“Would you come with me please?  We need to ask you about something.”

“Okay.  Let me lock up my house.”

“Oh no ma’am.  We’re just going out to  your backyard.”

***

“Any word from the hosptial Ivan?”

Ivan shook his head as he glanced through the window.  A woman was having an animated conversation with one of the other on duty officers.  “Say, where do I know her from?”

“Imagine her with less clothing.  She works at the Western.”

“Good call Darrell.  So, the man with the knot on his head is her ex?”

“Yep.  She ID’d him in the alley behind her house.  He was out cold.  That’s not all.”  Darrell passed Ivan a picture of the man’s SUV.  It had rope, duct tape, a bag of quicklime, and lanterns.  “We also found two knives and a gun on his person.  In his truck we also found the oil pan plug for her old car.  He even kept a meticulous diary of how he was stalking her and planning to kill her.”

“What a sicko.  He has a lot to answer for when he wakes up.  What happened to him?”

“Blunt force trauma to the head.  Somebody tried to cave in the back of his head with a shovel.”  Darrell passed another picture to Ivan.

“That’s a good quality shovel.  Any prints besides his?”

“Nope, but…”  Darrell dangled a baggie containing a jack of spades. “…we did find this tucked into his collar, right under where the shovel impacted.  Any ideas?”

Ten of Clubs

This week I’m taking a break from writing stories to reflect a bit, and the ten of clubs inspired me to do a top ten list.  They aren’t my top ten albums of all time (well, a few of them are on that list too), but these are the ten albums that affected my life the most.  Two of the other three tens will be top ten lists as well, with the ten of spades being part of a five part story I’m working on.  After a week of thought, here’s my list of albums that have influenced me the most.

1.  Wang Chung Mosaic
One album had to be first, and this was it.  It was 1986, and this is where I started pouring money into the music industry.  It was a trip to a Kmart in South Fargo, and my friend Don was trying to help me get into popular music.  Up to this point, my music listening was whatever my mom listened to, which involved AM country on KFGO, and KFGO’s Sunday “Polka Party”.  I had jumped into music videos the night before, but not thanks to MTV.  Rather, it was all thanks to NBC’s “Friday Night Videos” and WTBS’ “Night Tracks”.  One of the songs I’d heard that really stuck in my head was “Let’s Go” by Wang Chung.  I hadn’t heard any of the other songs on Mosaic (yes, I was still so new at this I’d missed “Everybody Have Fun Tonight”), but I made the decision to buy it anyway (along with A Different Light by the Bangles, but that was an after I’d found Wang Chung).  It started me down an early life of pop albums, including tapes by Tiffany, Debbie Gibson, and Madonna.  While I’ve not listened to Mosaic in about 20 years, one album had to be first.  I did rip “Let’s Go” onto my computer from an 80s compilation, and I’m not ashamed.  It’s a damn catchy song.

2.  Kix Blow My Fuse
The music I was buying after Wang Chung was all over the place, but mostly in the pop vein.  I had made a few exceptions (Whitesnake & Aerosmith), but Kix’s Blow My Fuse was the album that had the biggest impact on this stage of  my musical journey, and at the time it was for a very strange reason.  I remember bringing my boom-box into the living room by the computer, and listening to this cassette about three times in a row.  Suddenly, I had an epiphany.  If I liked every song on this album, why don’t I just buy albums like this?  Thus, my journey into hair-metal had truly began.  It seems silly to look back on that now and realize my decision was made from a fiscal standpoint.  One too many pop albums with just a few good songs had already done their damage, and years later this attitude would be shared by plenty of Napster users.  My journey into the world of hair-metal was on, but I had my limits.  I wasn’t going to let myself get into any bands thought of as devil worshipers, like AC/DC…

3.  AC/DC Back in Black
Oops.  My friend Robby listened to a lot of AC/DC, and mostly Back in Black.  I didn’t hear anything that had to do with Satan, or hell, or anything like that.  Granted, I was still naive enough to not know what “Given the Dog a Bone” or “Let Me Put My Love Into You” was about.  The only thing about AC/DC that stood out to me was just how damn much they rocked.  I picked this album up for myself a few months later, and eventually I’d have all of their albums.  Whenever I wanted to listen to AC/DC, it almost always came back to Back in Black.  Eventually, I started listing this as my all-time favorite album, which I still do to this day.  AC/DC had entered my psyche, but I was drawing the line.  I wasn’t about to start listening to really heavy metal like Metallica.

4.  Metallica Master of Puppets
Once again, I made myself a promise I couldn’t keep.  My friend George was really into Metallica, and after I’d bought and not cared for the “One” cassette single, he suggested I give this one a try.  I was afraid of going down this path musically, but after one listen it was way too late.  Lyrically, Master of Puppets should have blown my fragile hair-rock mind, but what pulled me into this album wasn’t James Hetfield’s vocals, but the music.  It was loud, fast, tight, and it demanded my attention.  Soon, I was picking up old Metallica albums, and branching into dark corners that held Megadeth, Danzig, and others.

5.  Warrant Ultraphobic
Nirvana and Pearl Jam aren’t on this list.  I enjoyed Nirvana when they broke, and I almost wore out my copy of Pearl Jam’s Ten.  I was a regular reader of Rip magazine, and they featured Nirvana and Pearl Jam alongside stories of Skid Row and Slaughter.  In my isolated corner of South Dakota, I wasn’t aware a battle for the soul of rock n’ roll had already been fought and decided.  When I arrived at college, it was all flannel and grunge.  Hair metal was so last year or so.  There were a few holdouts besides me, but not many.  Slowly, they started either listening to the new sound, or just listening to the old stuff from the 80s.  I couldn’t live with nostalgia rock; I needed new.  I’ve always had an insatiable need to hear what a band/artist is going to do next, and once a band breaks up or retires, my interest seems to vanish with them.  Some of the hair bands kept going while most faded away.  In 1995, Warrant did something else.  They made a grunge-ish album called Ultraphobic.  Most Warrant fans from back in the day called it a sellout, or worse.  Fans of the Seattle sound were not to be bothered with Warrant, and the album is now mostly forgotten.  I thought it might be Warrant’s best album ever, and I still do.  Was it a sellout?  Maybe.  Was it a band trying to survive and move with the times?  Could be.  Did this album deserve better?  I think so, and I still enjoy it from time to time.  In my mind there was no reason for 80s and 90s rock to not co-exist.  It may be an oversimplification, but in my head rock was rock, sub-genres be damned.  The other reason this album makes the list is that it was the beginning of the end.  By next year, I was at a musical crossroads.  The hair rock bands were all but gone, and the few left were doing nostalgia tours or releasing greatest hits collections.  In 1996, this came to a head as I had two directions to go.  I could either go heavier, and listen to bands like Slayer.  Or, I could broaden my horizons, and start listening to a wider variety.

6. Sheryl Crow Sheryl Crow
I still remember the day like it was yesterday.  I’d seen something in one of the trade magazines at work about a new Sheryl Crow song.  I thought “All I Wanna Do” was catchy, but I’d listened to the college station’s copy of Tuesday Night Music Club and found it lacking.  I kept seeing all this buzz about a song called “If It Makes You Happy”, but the hard rock station I worked at had nothing to do with Sheryl Crow.  One afternoon I was home from work, and I flipped on VH1.  A video was on of a woman I didn’t recognize.  The song had snarl, sleazy guitars, and a delivery that straddled “go away” and “come here”.  As I watched, I kept waiting for the end of the song so I could see who was singing.  I was thinking about how sleazy and attractive the singer was, and my interest in the song was increasing the longer I listened.  As soon as the chorus starated, I yelled out “Oh my God!  That’s Sheryl Crow!”.  I waited for the song to end, and then I walked to Media Play and bought the album.  It became a regular staple of my musical diet, and at the end of the year, when it was time to name my top CD of the year, I was torn between Sheryl Crow and Slayer’s Undisputed Attitude.  I did a split top ten, with one containing best-of albums and cover albums (of which Slayer’s album was), and a list without those types of albums.  I had Sheryl on top of the second list, and I didn’t feel like I was giving up on metal.  Rather, I felt like a whole new world was opening up that was just down the street from the hair metal house where I’d been staying.  I still visit, but Sheryl Crow helped me keep moving all around the neighborhood.  After all, it’s better to be a musical couch surfer, right?

7. Ani DiFranco Little Plastic Castle
Ani DiFranco was on the cover of Spin magazine in 1997, and thanks to somebody leaving it at the station, I read a fascinating article about a singer I’d never heard of, who wasn’t on a major or even minor label, who was doing things her own way and succeeding.  My roommate’s sister was a big fan, and she encouraged me to check her stuff out.  On a trip to Brookings in February of 1998, I saw her new album on the shelf, and I picked up a copy without ever having heard a song.  It was unlike anything else I had ever bought, and it was just the album I wanted to hear.  For the first decade of my music listening, I couldn’t get into most female singers.  Something about them just didn’t sit right with me.  Here was a female singer who rocked without rock music.  She had passion and fire, and she was doing everything on her own terms.  How could anyone not admire her?  It was only a matter of time before I had every one of her albums.  While Out of Range is my favorite Ani album, I would never have heard it without Little Plastic Castle.

8. Spooncat The American Jiggler
Similarly to Ani DiFranco, that same roommate’s sister thought I’d enjoy this local band from Sioux Falls.  I remember hearing them and not knowing what to think.  Two keyboards?  A horn section?  What were they?  After seeing them live countless times, I still don’t know how to describe them as anything other than the most fun band I’ve ever seen, and possibly one of the most talented bands I’ve ever seen.  They can cover most anything, and sometimes without any rehearsal.  Their original stuff ranges from fun, to food for thought.  When they’re on and having fun, I’ve never seen a band have more fun being a band.  I’ve seen them more times than I can count, and while their albums never quite capture their live energy, they hold up well on their own.  This is the album that came out around the time they hooked me, so even though the final mix is missing the bass (something the band is working on for a future re-release or download) I’ll give it the number eight spot.

9.  Sarah Harmer You Were Here
Sheryl Crow’s album was the first album that wasn’t hard rock or metal to get my album of year nod.  Then, Ani DiFranco started me down a path that was littered with singer-songwriters.  When I went to an Ani concert, the opening band was Sarah’s old group Weeping Tile.  After wearing out the EP I picked up at the show, I found out the band had broken up, but the lead singer was releasing a solo album.  In 2000, Sarah Harmer released this gem, and for months I couldn’t stop listening to it.  Sarah had taken a break-up and crafted what might be the most heartfelt album ever inspired from a broken heart.  Every song hits on a different emotion.  Every song is a keeper.  I’ve actually sat and tried to think of a flaw this album has, and I can’t think of one.  While Sheryl Crow and Ani DiFranco had started pushing me into more singer-songwriter territory, this CD was the last shove I needed to start really enjoying mellow music without thinking I was getting old and mellowing out.  Mellowing out was a small price to pay for such a good album.  The only downside of this album is that everything I’ve heard from Ms. Harmer since hasn’t been as good.  Methinks she set the bar way too high.

10. MC Lars The Graduate
Working CHR/Top-40 radio has some occupational hazards.  One of them involves starting to like the music you play, and some of the genres you play.  I thought it was a universal truth that as people got older, they clung to their familiar music more, and shunned what was popular and new.  I had never been a huge fan of rap music, but I’d dabbled a bit.  Most people my age like rap less as they get older (especially if they didn’t care for it much to start with), but this is yet another thing my brain somehow goofed up.  Either of Ludacris’ first two albums could be in this spot as well, but I’ll give the nod to MC Lars because he was the first rapper I’d heard rap about stuff I was interested in.  How had I missed the slow rise of nerdcore rap up until this point?  The Graduate prove itself a gateway drug for MC Frontalot and Optimus Rhyme. but it had another effect.  Soon, I was buying Jay-Z albums as well, and I was listening to more rap albums the station got in.  So, thank you MC Lars, for allowing me to enjoy rap more as I get older.  It might be backwards, but I’m not complaining.