Murder One; Deep Heat Chapter 2 of 7

Read with caution. It's LGBT theme.
Not suitable for the minors.

Deep Heat

2.

“Forensics initial report on your desk.” I heard Tabitha. I was back in my role with the change of clothes, and ego. I sat down and read the report. The modus operandi was the same.

“Forcible entry by a blunt object into both private orifice with tear marks identified.”

“Strangulation marks on the neck and chafed marks on the wrist and ankles similar to marks of being secured with rope.”

“Traces of sedatives in the bloodstream.”

“Body was wiped with bleach to remove any traces of DNA.”

I placed the report back into the folder. I then saw Tabitha standing before me. She was my aide to all the documentation.

“Eleanor Mitchell. Aged twenty-four, and is a local. Doing her studies in IT at night classes, and worked daytime as a café waitress. She was brought in for soliciting but released without charges. Vice Report.” Tabitha gave me a brief. “James and Grant doing the door to door checks. And also, they are checking the Café.”

“How far were the distances?” Tabitha knew my line of inquiry.

“Nowhere near. The Café was tangent in direction and the School was before the Cafés. She was also not in the last location when Vice nabbed her. We did a location reading there. The area was …”

“Lined with drinking establishments. Like the others, they were there for a drink or meet someone but they got killed with their arses stuffed in hard.” I replied. It was the same scene but a different part of the city. I had the Section marked the areas and we had nine popular hangouts but the assumption of the crime was off the radar. It happened in areas where a few establishments existed to some underground clubbing sites. The later was quite a few and they moved frequently to avoid detection.

“I have checked with Vice. There was a club there. It just opened two weeks ago.” Tabitha went on. “Its…”

“Gemini Nights.” I knew that place. I was there during the opening. “Find out on the club. Who’s and …”

“It belonged to Nigel “Man’ Selby.” I heard of Nigel. He was a successful businessman with an array of operations including vices but no one touches him for he has a deep pocket and affiliated friends in the right places. I won’t be surprised that he’s got Vice here by their balls too.

“Vice is passing me their reports.” I heard Tabitha but I know those reports were adulated with a lot of missing passages. I do not trust the system and found my sources are more reliable. The only payback they want is my ass.

“Update to the Commander and add in there, I am investigating some leads. Not confirmed ones but will update soon.” I knew how to keep the wolves at bay but with my ass that is another matter. I was to take off when I saw the three-striped uniform walked in. I knew their looks and guessed it’s not the donuts I donated the last function.

“Sergeant Reilly, I am honored. Are we having tea again?”

“Bernice”, Reilly knew me when I was doing street patrols. “I got your mug shot plastered on the rounds from the next town. Now, I know you were into your moods but please don’t get stomping another fag in the groin.”

“Sergeant. I did not stamp him.” Darn, I admitted to being there. “I meant did he say I stomped him? I was not there.”

“We could not …. Fully identified the assailant but we are checking the bikers.” Reilly bit his tongue to defend me. “I just wanted to know if you were out of the city today.”

“Nope. Tabitha could attest to that. I was sick and laid down in the bathroom.” I looked at Tabitha. She nodded to Reilly. “She was giving me some medicine. My car was at the Station.”

Reilly took note of that and left. I took leave soon after in the car. I was visiting some old friends and needed to be official. Tabitha offered to come along but I dismissed her. Where I was headed, Tabitha need not know. It was not her personal safety I was concerned about. It was mine. There are sections of the city that you do not want to be seen traveling alone or in a group. Not when you don’t belong there. In my line of works, I had visited some of them and even lived in one of them before but that was a long time ago. In some cities, they called the place the ghetto or the slum but I called them homes to the needy. These people who lived there are nobodies and with that branding, they are left defenseless against the others. They went to the ghetto to get that needed protection and in return, they protect the others too. It’s the rule of the jungle there; kill or be killed.

My official car had stood like a hardon in the convent with the passer-by shunned and the curious taking a peek for their curiosity. I drove down the streets with my speed limit way below the limit, but my eyes were checking the scene there doubly fast. Soon I spotted my target; a group of dykes and bitches doing the suntan at noon by the sidewalk. I pulled the car over and stepped out.

“Sister, we are not entertaining today.” I saw the lady stepped towards me in her two sized smaller dress and platform shoes that made her looked like the stilt lady. She may be in her twenties but her look may have moved on further in the aging process.

“Tell Sidney, Bernice is looking for him. Ask him to meet me at the Church in an hour.”

“Sister, we are not your lackey like Upstairs Downstairs. And we don’t know who is Sidney? Does he lick?” I ignored the remark and move back to my car. When I was stepping in, I saw the other group of muscles on the opposite side of the road. I wished I had brought my back up or at worse, my truncheon. I had left it at home, retired for other uses. I took courage and drove on. I pulled over at two more groups before I stopped at the church. I was not a devoted follower but I had spent my weekends in the House of God; well not of late but when I was more innocent.

“Afternoon, Father.” I greeted the pastor soon after I stepped in. The later was lighting the candles at the altar.

“He is in the back.” I knew Father Francis for many years. “Bernice, when would I see again? This Sunday we are a special mass for the Homes.”

“Soon, Father. Soon.” I replied. I have my duty to perform then. I stepped to the back and then out into the small garden. There was Sidney “Boxer” Madden, my birth father tending to the vegetables there. He was in his seventies but his body frame was still good. He was a former boxing star and held some good records for a white man in the ring. It was his cover for his real trade; the mobster enforcer. He did well, and soon staked a chunk of real estate for his effort plus some side business to keep his boundary secured. His only vice was his wife died early and left him a daughter. He could not raise her for she was everything he was and he sent her off to the aunt who was a spinster. It would have worked but the aunt had many friends to coach the growing lady. The rest was history, and it was dark.

“My prodigal son returned.” Sidney had always wanted a son.

“I am ho…”

“Fuck the pleasantries, Sidney. I am here on official business. What can…” I had cut in but Sidney was a boxer. He knew how to take the blows and also to avoid it.

“I have tea prepared there.” Sidney indicated to the tray with the two cups and pot. “It’s from Ceylon. My friend brought it over.”

Tea was one of his trade, and he bartered with guns. He was a trader of sorts. I declined and questioned him.

“Sidney, who is doing the killing?” I handed it out hot.

“You mean the City Dumpster Ripper? I don’t know.” Sidney had then poured a cup for himself. “My girls are scared to do their rounds alone. They travel in pairs now.”

The two weeks with tabloid speculating on the murders have laid the heat onto the communities but the murder still occurred. They have named the murderer as the City Dumpster Ripper after the other Ripper. The only reference was the breast mutilation and the dumpster for the victims was found there. Panel experts attributed that to ‘motherly neglect of love’ and the dumpster was the sign of trash. I had listened to the rumors that I was placed in charged because I was flat-chested and probably won’t be targeted but the trash part was more of a personal reference to myself.

“I think it’s the underground scene which the killer is prowling at.” I gave out my clue.

“The joints are their hangouts. And from there, they ply their tricks.” Sidney snapped in. “We don’t do the posh towers. Those ivory towers are for celebrities. If we move in there, they will have the girls send to docks.”

All of us knew the flesh trade was sanctioned by relevant parties and boundaries were drawn. The enforcement varies and the docks could mean the court for jail terms or the portside serving the drunks.

“The killer is putting the screw onto your trade,” I added in.

“Five murders over two weeks? It will blow over once the press gets another ass to whiff over. It would help if you could solve it faster.” I disliked my father when he threw me the left hook unanticipated.

“I would and I am which is why I am here. Give me an angle to work on.” I had taken a step back to avoid his lefty hook and tossed him my right jab into the face. He took a sip of his tea and then looked at me.

“I heard some rumors that person or persons responsible are from out of town and may strike again.” The murders over the last two weeks held a gap of two or three days each. So, I have that time frame. “Beware, son. The killer may be protected.”

I told you whoever I was to meet would have my ass. And Sidney did. He called me son when he wants to tell me I was not his intended child.

“My son should have one ass and not two.” Those were his words to me when I confronted him on his dislike of me.

Stagecoach Western Write 10 of 15

10.

I took the guard duty on the Apaches. It was ironic for the view outside was still marred by the dark skies and the low light made visibility to no more than twenty paces. I could make out the well where I had risked my life to save the other. Sadly, it did not work to my liking. Mrs. Mallory died soon after giving birth. I was given the Spencer but my hands were still shackled.

“I can’t rest.” I heard the lady who stood next to me. I moved to give her some space. I was not uncomfortable for ladies who were always leaning on me once they learned of my reputation. Most ladies liked to be seen in my company but only for a short while. They will then return to the arms of their lover or husband. It was the final comfort of theirs.

“You may need the rest, Ms. Dallas. Tomorrow maybe…” I was cut off by the lady. She was a strong lady and earned my respect.

“The name is Martha Daryl. And Dallas is my assumed name. It was my protection from the prying eyes. And tomorrow I may die. That will give me many rest hours.” The lady’s reply made me laugh.

“Ms….. Daryl, are you sure we will die tomorrow? I doubt so.” I sounded optimistic. I am that kind of person. “Tell me what do you do in your other life?”

“I thought you would have known. I am a lady in the saloon. I am ….”

“A lady of comfort. I was to miss that out. You don’t behave like one. As a matter of view, you are more of a lady.”

“Compliments won’t buy you a night with me.” The lady once more surprised me. I pride myself as a gentleman when it comes to ladies.

“I won’t take advantage of you.” I cowered back into my corner. The lady was a fighter. Her display of the gun earlier spoke of her determination not to be backed down.

“No, Kid. You won’t.” Ms. Daryl replied. “Can I ask of your real name?”

“Walther Drew. I was raised in Ohio. I moved here during my herd trailing.” I told the lady. She was the second person I told my real name.

“So, the Kid name was given to you.”

“It was the gunfighter I killed. He was called Ringo the Kid. I had mine shorten to Ringo Kid.” I saw then the Marshall approaching me. He motioned for my hands and removed the irons. It felt good then. He then whispered to me.

“Bucks is not going to make it.” Marshall told me. “His wounds are fatal. Doctor Bone told me.”

I felt the sadness of hearing that. Ms, Daryl leaned on me when she overheard the Marshall.

“We will have to move tomorrow. The river is the only option.” Marshall explained to me. “It will be tough. We could be open to shooting and with our limited bullets we are on the losing end.”

I thought hard on the option. The ferry was a strung-up sawn logs to form a raft and the way to go across was the rope that connects both sides of the river banks. It had worked on normal trips but the previous night rain had swelled the river. During such flooding, the ferry will be suspended or to take the longer route down the river. That second option was not viable and the first one will be a challenge to go across so soon.

“I could reinforce the ferry. I saw the extra logs there. It may hold the stagecoach for us to cross.” I had crossed swelled rivers in my trail herding. We do normally wait it out but if needed, we will move the cattle in great numbers. The mass numbers will form a huge bulk and the cattle will stick to each other for strength. We may lose a few of the herd but the herd will survive.

“Okay get to it. I can’t help you. I got to watch the Apaches and these miscreants.” I nodded to the Marshall who had taken my post. I went to work in the middle of the night and was joined by the Doctor.

“You ain’t the only one who can’t rest.”

Inside the Outpost, Mr. Greenwood felt the eyes of Mr. Hitch was looking at his bag. He held it close to his chest with the rifle nearby. The later could hide his curiosity and approached the other.

“Mr. Greenwood? You are a quiet person. You did not shoot at the Apaches today and all you cared was the bag.”

“Do not meddle in my affairs. I won’t hesitate to shoot anyone who tries to approach me.” Mr. Greenwood cautioned the other.

“Hey, I was just asking. No offense meant.” Mr Hitch back off but his eyes were on the bag. He knew that it contained something valuable.

Maybe gold pieces.

Or dollars.

“It could be his wife’s ashes.” Mr. Hatfield found back his humor.

“He could be but tell what made you so defensive of Mrs. Mallory? Do you know her?” Mr Hatfield was to strike the other in the face for asking him that but he held back. He had made an enemy of one Doctor and a Marshall. He won’t risk another person among the small numbers there.

“Mrs. Mallory was a friend. And she was with a child.” Hatfield disliked displaying his emotions. He had buried his sister after she died with her child from illness. He was heart-broken and went into a series of gambling. His reckless approach had cost him some money and part of it was with his partner. That caused them to split to different tables. That split caused his partner to be shot. He never thought that anyone will shoot the Plummer Kid. The Plummer was a big powerful family in that town and the Kid gunned the young Plummer as if he was another shyster. He picked up the derringer for it will incriminate the other. He was sure if anyone saw him did that or if they did, they won’t go against the wrath of the Plummer family.

The Plummer family had confronted him soon after the Kid rode off. He was made to face the family head, Duke Plummer. The elderly man with many years of the hardship of building his empire looked hard at Hatfield.

“You were with him? What happened?” Those were simple questions by the grieving father.

Hatfield told them he had seen nothing before the shooting but he recognized the shooter. It was Ringo Kid. The Kid was in town soon after his head honcho traded the herd of cattle they brought in.

“The Kid rode off in a hurry.” Hatfield escaped with his life then. He took the stagecoach the next day on the afternoon ride. He felt the need to getaway. He did but could not stay away so he came back. And luck was on his side, the Kid was in the stagecoach. He wondered what the Duke will reward him fi he was to kill the Kid. He regretted his act on the Doctor. That exposed his ability to kill. He should have been more elusive. It was how he survived in his trade. All it took was a shot in the dark or the back when no one was looking. He was not a gunfighter but a killer. He needed a partner.

“Hitch right? Do you think the Kid deserved a trial? The Marshall could be helping him. You were there too.” Those few words were enough to start a deadly conversation.

Murder One; Deep Heat Chapter 1 of 7

Read with caution. It's LGBT theme.
Not suitable for the minors.

Deep Heat

1.


The call came just after I stepped out of the shower that morning. I paraded nude through the bedroom to pick up the phone. It was the Station and the clock read seven in the morning. That could only mean work.

“Hello, Inspector Bernice.” That was an official call and had to be formally addressed. I took the liberty to sit down on the bed while warping the blanket over my legs. I was cold and even with the hot shower, I was still feeling the coldness.

“Inspector. We got another body found at the alley of Heath Deep.” I recognized the voice belonging to the Night Shift Officer; Detective Ian Darren. He was once a part of my team but later seconded over to the other team on some complaints of his sexism approach. He never forgave me for that. His parting word to me was ‘bitch’.

“Hey, who was it?” The pair of hands went around my waist and then upwards to cup my breasts. I don’t have prominent ones but it was one of my G points. I placed the phone back on the bedside table and leaned back. I smelled the previous night’s scent of the sex and the warmth body was an inviting offer to continue on. I moved my body onto the bed and laid down. The hands that were holding me snaked off to reach between my legs. I was dry from my shower but the arousal was beginning to stir. I felt the lips on mine and then it trailed to my eyes and towards my left ear.

“I loved the after-shower smell. You are like the appetizer to the main meal.” I knew what that main meal meant and it may take an hour to devour. I pushed myself up and got off the bed.

“Was it something I said?” I heard my lover. I turned to look at her.

“No, bitch. Its work and I will be late.” I replied while walking to the wardrobe. I had my line of dark suits and matching black shoes to match. I slipped on the white blouse; who cares about the undergarments when sometimes, I could be in those clothes for more than a day. The work of a Detective Inspector was not your regular yarn of time clocking hours. I pulled on the dark pants and then the jacket. It was then I saw the red panty there tucked in the side pocket of the jacket. I drew it out and then turned to my lover. She was still in bed lying on her side, with her right hand between her legs. I frowned at the sight of it, although it was alluring but at moments like then, I felt it was repulsive. Like the time I caught Mitch masturbating onto my soiled panty. He was twelve then. I had him over the sink with the bidet cleaner stick leaving welts on his buttocks.

“Seriously?” I displayed the panty at my lover.

“Well, you don’t wear any. And mine are …. momento for you.” She smiled. “Don’t give that away. I had it on for two days. It contained my DNA for you.”

I smiled at her. My bitch was a sensational slut, luscious and joyous seductive piece; I am losing the words to describe her. We met while at the clubbing scene, and after an hour of drinks and chat, we ended up in bed. That was three weeks ago, and since then she had moved into my unit and shared my bed. If I was to compare to her dimensions, I was probably the rolling hills while she was the Alpian range. She had all the right curves and depth with the creativity of the fuck, that made even my own acts like convent girls giggle. I had more pleasures in my love acts than I ever did with the previous four lovers I shared with.

“I will treasure it but only here.” I placed the panty into the drawer in the wardrobe. When I opened it, there were a few more pieces there. “I can see that you have been … shopping.”

My bitch laughed but I was on my way to work. I have a case to handle.

The drive to the crime site was twenty minutes with the early morning rush and irate drivers who ignored the siren. I reached the site and was waved through by the uniformed. I stepped off my official car and walked into the alley. The Forensic Team was there, and so were my team; the Detective Squad called in to take over from the Night Shift.

I got my update then. From Detective Tabitha.

“Female, early twenties, death by a blunt object, breasts mutilated, and private parts looked to be forcefully…” I stopped Tabitha then. I knew she was eager to please me but I preferred my details objective and conclusive.

“Let me get the Forensics on that. Just tell me the body when you arrived.”

“Well, she was lying there among the garbage, naked and her position was like the…” I stopped her again.

“No assumptions please. Until we have clarification, I will not associate the girl’s death to the serial killer case. Any clothing or ID found?” I was being objective then. The team of my detectives besides Tabitha were James Miller and Grant Leslie. All three of them shook their heads.

“Well then, let the Forensics do theirs. The three of you searched outside the cordon area.” I gave my orders. I then took a closer approach to the victim. She was blonde, young and held the signs of being tortured. It all fit the modus operandi of my suspect which had undertaken five murders in the last two weeks and left us without a clue. The last victims were found in midway in the alleys or in the dumpster in the alley like this one. I looked at the building structures; of shops and the back alley was the dump. Empty crates and bottles were seen strewn around, with the occasional garbage bags although the dumpster was seen there. No CCTVs could be seen.

“Detective Inspector, I want to see you in my office.” I heard the Station Commander when I stepped through the office door. My Section occupied far left corner next to the bathrooms and besides the Discussion Rooms. The later was more for the questioning of the suspects or witnesses. In that corner, we cramped in four work areas; one was mine with two desks to make up my space, Tabitha’s, James and Grant. We have the window to the carpark below and we were located on the 2nd Floor just below the roof. The workspace was bare; a desk cluttered with folders and un-processed documents and the work station for us to watch the outside world. I had a partition that covered my space but I moved it to cover the Section instead of prying eyes of the others like Vices and Narcotics. The Commander’s office was across the office next to Vice. He was the Vice’s Inspector before he got booted ups the rank.

“Good morning, Ma’am.” I greeted the huge lady seated behind the huge desk with the huge responsibility of keeping the Station to its assigned targets. She was a brunette and the streaks of grey hair had lined above her forehead but her uniform was immaculately clean. She stood at over six feet in height and could outwrestle any of us in the Station and a voice to carry with it.

“Bernice, what the fuck is holding your investigation? I got now the report another body turned up this morning.” And the morning was just beginning than at nine o’clock. “Do you know the Press is calling me on my mobile?”

“I am doing my best, Ma’am. We….”

“The fuck you are doing, Bernice. I want results and it better before another body turns up.” The lady who was the Commander does not mince her words. “Now get out before I send you to Desk Duty.”
Soon, I got my Section into the Briefing Room. We had to wait our turn for the Vice and then the Narcotics before we could use it. By then the room reeked of bad coffee and scent of aftershaves. I did the gist of the “I want” list for the investigation and then left the Station. I did not take my official car and went for my personal runner.

I took off my dark jacket and donned my blazing red riding jacket which was waist high, and slipped on the riding boots which were knee-high, and slapped on my red riding gloves with the metal studs. Then came to my face covered riding helmet and my nasty attitude to do above the speed limit on the streets. My cherry red Kawasaki 650, four strokes parallel, six-speed with the top speed of two hundred fifty kilometers an hour blazed through town and then I hit the freeway to clear my mind. I did my usual time in the next town and stopped at the café for my lunch. I took my helmet to place it on the bike and then walked into the café. Just before I stepped in, I placed on the dark shades on the bridge of my nose. I looked in and saw it was partially occupied with three of the five tables seated. I took one of the free tables and watched the menu.
“Hey, babe. You ride hard huh?” I ignored the remark made by the three guys dressed in leathers. I saw their bikes parked outside. They were bikers club and rode Harleys. One of them walked over. He was a fiery redhead with a slim look. On the looks, he would fare an above average for the guy you will wrap your legs over his hips but I was in a foul mood. And I am not into guys. Not literally fucking them.

“Babe, you got a name. Mine’s Prince. Would you want to ride with me?” The guy held out his right hand towards me. Well, I did say I was in a foul mood and niceties were not in my books. I grabbed his extended thumb and slammed his hand hard on the edge of the table. I then raised his thumb over and did another slam with it on the table. He went down screaming bloody niceties statements that his mother would have blushed if she heard him. I stood up over the guy who was then holding his bruised hand between his legs. I grabbed his head by the neck and pulled him down towards my raised right knee into his jaw. That shut him up and he went down hard on his side. For the final touch, I gave him a penalty kick into the face.

“Hey!” His mates roared and charged at me. I took up my fighting stance but the fight was halted when Ben the owner appeared with the cricket bat in the hand to stand in between us

“Hold your throttles, guys or I will give you a howzat you won’t scream for.” Ben was an ex-biker and cricket but nastier was his fighting skills. The two guys backed up while I went for the doorway.

“Bitch! It isn’t over.” I heard the caution. I ignored them and rode off. I was not feeling hungry anymore. I went back to the city.

Sex, Murder and Fun 2: Joni and Me

It had been twenty-five years since I left my hometown.  I remembered that day when I walked up to the house and knocked on the door. She opened the door holding your child in her arms. I was beyond words then when a hello would have sufficed. It was she who broke the silence on me.

“Hello, Jimmy. Have you just arrived?” I was still dumbstruck standing there with my overnighter and the bouquet of flowers. She had told me that she liked roses; red ones to be sent by her Prince Charming.  She offered me to come into the house.

I did and then I had my second shock that day. I cried when I heard what Joni had to say.

“Jimmy….” The child seated on her lap clung onto her when my tears came down. “Please don’t cry. You will forget me by and by. It’s been five years since you have been gone. Jimmy, I married your best friend, John.”

I remembered then was walking out of the house with the flowers. I tossed the flowers onto the street and kept on walking. She did not call me back and neither was I bothered to do so. I left town on the next train and have not been back for over twenty-five years. Joni was her name and she did not wait for me for even five years and yet I came back soon after five times those years.

Twenty-five years can change a man and I was a changed man. Well, I thought I was but I was wrong. I could not forget Joni since that day. I could not forget John who was my best friend to marry my girl. I could not forget that I left her crying then when I told her she was too young to marry me. Well, fools are made daily but little I was to know how much a fool I was. It took me twenty-five years to return to say my gratitude towards her.

That was what I thought of when I drove into town. The town has not changed much; considering a quarter decade had gone by I was expecting developments there but I saw was abandoned farms and derelict structures.  The train station remained as it was twenty-five years ago, the stopover from the city to another. I saw some structures that reminded me of the town, but the people walking by there were total strangers. I was to see Joni at her house, flower-bearing then but instead of roses, I had some lilacs. I guess the charms of the roses may have worn off. It was on the route when I saw the Diner. It was the very place I used to take Joni out on the weekends to listen to the jukebox while drinking colas. I pulled over and went in once more. The place was pretty much the same; the wall décor may have been changed and the jukebox was missing. In its place was a PC workstation. I took my seat at the table at the end when the waitress called out from behind the counter.

“Mister, I am not been rude but could you order over here? My feet are aching from the lunch crowd and now is my rest hour.” I looked at the blonde; well she was at the head but she was a colored lady.  who was I guessed was about my age and decided to humor her by stepping over and sat on the seat by the counter. I placed my order and then waited patiently for it.  A man stepped in in his worn factory assigned overall and stood on the far end of the counter near the doorway. I caught a whiff of the alcohol on the man and it was still sun-up then.

“Coffee, Maddie. I need one now.” The man called out. He looked familiar to me but after twenty-five years a lot of us had our looks changed. That man was bearded and untidy compared to my three-piece suit with the Worchester materials.

“Here take your coffee and leave. You bum!” Maddie the waitress cussed at the untidy man who left carrying his cup of coffee. She then turned towards me.

“Sad bloke. Wife died some years back and he was out of the job. He has a daughter at home and she’s handicapped. Lord! Bless me, father. I do not want to have a life like that. Amen.”

I had my coffee and then took off. I was not far from Joni’s place. I hoped it was still there. I could have asked the locals but a part of me wished she had moved on. That will have capped my twenty-five years of the long wait.

God was not on my side.

I knocked on the door and heard her voice. Her sweet voice was surreal then. I straightened my posture although my back muscles had claimed that it was agonizing. The door opened and there she was. My Joni as if she had never aged. The same dress that she wore then when we met twenty …no it was more than twenty-five years.

“Joni Michael.” I wanted to rush up and hugged her close but something stopped me. The young lady was holding a cane; the foldable types. Oh my God, she was blind.

“No, I mean yes. I am Joni Michael Edwards. My mum was Joni Michael.” The lady replied. “Who are you? I can’t see properly.”

I was to give my name when another voice startled me from the rear.

“Who are you? Get off my property.” I turned to look and saw the man from the Diner but that time. I recognized him.

“John….. John Edwards. It’s me, Jimmy Cotton.” I held out my right hand to shake. It was not a shake I had in returned but the fist did return me to the days when I was John’s ringside manager. I woke up later on the couch in the house with the voice of my beloved Joni bellowing at John. Well, it sounded that way.

“I won’t go with him.?” I heard that and many things are spoken about me while I was supposedly unconscious. I made some noise from my throat, and it was definitely not pleasurable. Soon I was joining in the rabble of discussion on custody of Joni.

Ironic was it not when I had nothing to do with her. I meant in many ways except that I knew Joni, her mother. John asked me to take care of her citing that he was incapable of being a father. With him out of work, he felt that she was better off with me. In short, I was the replacement father. I wanted to say no, but the words won’t come out. Every time I looked at her, I saw Joni. I felt the urge to hold her and God forbid me, intimate relations. I meant physical relations.

I meant sex.

Fuck, I was twice her age.

I was supposed to fuck her mum. Forgive me, Joni. Thankfully we had not. I could but I didn’t. She was fifteen then. I could have been hauled up to Court and charged with rape. Well, I was not for I respected her. I did for the next five years when I was away. I meant I did not fuck any others. Man or Woman, if I am forced to swear. Well, not physically.

Soon after she rejected me when I met five years later, I left and was alike a monk in recluse; I abstained from everything including sex. I worked hard and harder still in my career and then later my business. I became successful but never was I ever involved in anyone.

Fuck, I was too faithful to Joni. God, I had to confess. I did have some fantasy of fucking her while I was horny, for all the good it did to me, she was doing it incessantly with John. Well, they must have for they have a child. That looked like her.

I was the fool. More to the fool I was, or foolish was I when I accepted Joni into my life. John died that week I arrived at the town. He stepped into the oncoming train. I never thought he was suicidal but it happens at times. We cannot be attentive to all the happenings around us. Soon after the funeral, I brought Joni with me back to my city home. I was leading the blind lady into a blind lifestyle which I was still trying to shape for my own.

I lived alone in the city with my work as my mistress. I was already fifty-two of age, and with my solitude live, I had neglected my health. I have a dozen medications to take to keep my lifestyle alive. And none included Viagra. Yes, there was the Multi Vits but that worked in silence. I felt nothing with or without it. I thought it was over for me. I found my Joni, although not in the physical intimacy manner but it was my karma to with her through her daughter. Yes, I became a devotee of the faith which had stayed me on my track.

My first lure of the Devil was the day we arrived at my apartment. Thankfully, she was not to see the untidiness of the place. I was living a single life and my socks may not be in the right bin. I did, however, maintain some nice scent there with my scented gels. While she was seated on the couch, I was picking my trash and some ‘should not be seen’ vids. Okay, I had my needs too.

“Can I take a shower?” Wow! That was staggering. I meant with due respect not to read as disrespectful, I had blazing trails in my thoughts. I led her to the bathroom in the spare room. I excused myself to resume my cleaning.

“Jimmy, could I have my dress from the luggage?” I had moved her luggage to the spare room. I opened the suitcase and seen there was her personal clothing. I was not a pervert but that was my first intimate sight of her I had seen. I saw then the yellow sundress worn by her mother. It may had fitted Joni, for she looked like her mother.

“Have you got my dress?” I heard her and grabbed a few. I was not exactly a Gucci designer to know which will fit her that moment. I turned around to fetch her the dresses when I saw her standing there. She was nude and the towel was on the floor.

God, she looked beautiful. Spare me your penance, I confessed. My body betrayed me. My breathing was heavy but I was saved by the phone. I excused myself to pick my call. For once, I was glad some rep called me on some idiotic scheme. I flopped on the couch after my call. I heard her cane rattling and got up. I assisted her to the couch. She was dressed in her mother’s sundress.

“Do you like my dress? It was my mum’s.” Joni looked exactly like her mother with the same hairstyle. She asked me to sit next to her. I did like a good schoolboy in detention class. No, it was not the smart ass but the nerd that was caught in the prank. I sat there and listened to her.

“Jimmy, I have …. I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me. John was a good father until mum died. He lost his job and …”

“It is over, Joni. Herewith me, you are …. Safe. I will take care of you.” I assured her. I know it sounded horny…. I meant corny but I meant the later. Joni then told me of her mother. She was blind at birth and never seen her parent’s faces. She knew them from their steps and scent.

“I was like a bitch. I could tell by the scent.” Joni laughed. She continued on and when her mother died, she was alone. John was working to make ends meet but soon he succumbed to his bad habit. He hardly turned up home but the others came.

“Others?” I was concerned.

“Yeah, the boys and then some guys. I could tell so I will lock the doors. I will scream and the neighbors will come. Sometimes, the Police came. And John will come home.”

“Had you no real friends?” I asked.

“I am not sure.” It was then Joni placed her right hand on my left knee. “Joni did tell me about the birds and bees. She told me to be vigilant for the wolves. I had once a friend. He was nice but soon the niceties became …”

“Did he do anything you did not want?” I had to ask.

“No, we never got past the kissing and the touching. I fought him off when he tried to … take it further.” Her right hand had moved then towards my thigh. “I chased him off. Was I wrong?”

It was then I really wanted to hold her. I wanted to assure her that it was all in the past. She was my Joni then. She dropped me the next question.

“Am I beautiful like Joni, my mother? You saw me just now.” It shook me to the core of my heart when I heard the question. I knew then it had to stop or I will end up doing something stupid.

“Yes, you are. But you are not the lady I desire. You are the lady I loved. Not as a person of desire but as a loved one. It may be too early for me to surmise that in words, but given time I will make it to you. I owed your mother, Joni that much. If I had not left the town on my selfish thoughts, I could have waited for her to be eighteen or twenty-one. My love for her should not have such barriers but I was a fool. I learned that after five years but I was too late. Love is an eternity but it shall not be made to wait. I had regretted my action for over twenty-five years. I won’t wait for another twenty-five years to avoid my love for Joni. But this round, I am loving what Joni has given me a second chance; a daughter not of my blood but of my heart to take care.” I took up Joni’s hand and placed it on my heart.

“Let me love you but not as that. You will find your own love one day and let it known, I will give you away then at the altar of love.” I had then leaned over to hug her. Her tears came rolling down on my shoulder. It was then I recalled Joni’s words to me; You will forget me by and by.

“Joni, I won’t forget you. I never did.” I spoke to her in my mind.

Stagecoach Western Write 9 of 15

9.

The good news came from the Doctor on Bucks’s condition.

“He will live.” Doctor Bone told all of us. It has been two hours and outside the skies were darkening.

“Bloody wrong time to rain on this God-forsaken land.” Doctor Bone cussed at the weather. It hardly rains in there. It does in the two rainy seasons a winter one in December and January, and a summer one in July through early September. “I do wish it would snow but one can only wish in his lifetime.”

The joy of the rain was shattered when Mrs Mallory called out on new pain. The doctor attended to her with Ms Dallas in wait. The worse news was soon to come.

“The lady is in labor pain. She will need to deliver the baby or die. I need to open her up.”

“Doctor, is that safe?” Mr. Hatfield asked. He looked concerned as if it was his lover delivering their child. The doctor nodded and then replied,

“I had heard of it, read it, but no, I have not done it before.” That reply drew a hush to everyone. Neither of them had seen a child being born. I had but it was a calf.

“Jugs, Doctor. Are you mad?” Mr. Hatfield called out. “I can’t allow it.”

“Then shoot me and watch her die.” Doctor Bone snapped back. “I am sober and will feel the pain when you shoot me but that will not compare to her pain.”

“Doctor, when did you become so…” Mr. Hitch was to question.

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset. It’s an old saying by the native Indians. I don’t know who he was but he was a strong medicine man." The doctor replied.

“Are you telling me that life is so meaningless, Doctor?” Mr. Hitch laughed.

“No, Mr. Hitch. You are the one that did see it. In those words, life is brief and yet when you feel it. Its so intense that you need to live it no matter how brief. I became a doctor because of that breath of life.” Doctor Bone came to his senses and then crouched down t do his lifetime ambition.

Save lives.

Space was given to the lady due to deliver

“Apaches!” The call came from the Marshall. I rushed to look and saw the riders approaching the Outpost. They are armed not only with rifles but also with bushes lighted with fire. They intended to burn the Outpost. All of us rushed to the windows and waited.

We dare not shoot then.

We have limited bullets.

And the sky was darkening.

So were our lives.

“Shoot!” We all did.

First, it was Greenwood, then Hitch and Hatfield with the Marshall and myself. We were out of bullets.

“Darned, I used up my bullets.” Hatfield had reloaded the last two bullets for himself and Mrs. Mallory. “I guess it is us or them.”

Everyone reached for a weapon but the choices were limited. I then saw Ms. Dallas at my side. She was all covered in blood on the chest to the arms.

“The baby is dead. So is the mother. She will be soon enough.” Ms. Dallas was the kind of lady I liked; straight and tough to the bone. I saw the Doctor standing up and he had tears in his eyes.

“Mrs. Mallory….” Mr. Hatfield rushed to ask.

“She is dying. I did all I could.” Doctor Bone replied. “She was too weak. And the baby was before its time.”

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Mr. Hatfield asked.

“It was a girl.” Doctor Bone replied. “Why?”

“She will want to know. So will Lieutenant Mallory.”

“Well, you tell him when you meet them at Hell.” Marshall Wilcox prepared to open the door to rush out. I stopped him there.

“Don’t be a fool, Marshall. You will be shot before….” My words trailed off when I saw the flames at the roof. The Apaches had lit the roof with the torches of bushes.

“Fire!” I called out. Everyone scrambled for other things to fight the fire. It was then the Apache stormed into the Outpost. He was one but he was armed. He leveled his rifle to shoot at us but Ms. Dallas had recovered her gun. She shot the Apache in the chest. And then another just outside the doorway. I grabbed the rifle fell from the first Apache and rushed out. I was still with my irons and in my anger at the waist level. You do not earn the name of Ringo Kid if you can’t shoot from any direction. I took down one more Apache before the others retreated. I dropped the empty rifle and grabbed another. I did not fire that rifle and retreated to the Outpost. Everyone except the dying Mrs. Mallory was fighting the blaze then.

Our prayers were answered when the rain came. We were soaked when the rain seeped through. I had the rifle in my hand and the other was retrieved by the Marshall. He gave me the eye and I nodded. I handed the rifle to him.

After all, I was still a criminal.

Our joy of victory when the Doctor announced that Mrs. Mallory had died with her baby. It was a sad moment and Mr. Hatfield took it very deep into his heart. I wanted to ask but declined. Everyone has the right to their own feelings and maybe the sight of Mrs. Mallory reminded him of someone.

We sat it out in the rain and into the night. The next day was another day for us.

And the Apaches will be waiting.

“Doctor, you killed her.” It was Mr. Hatfield confronting the Doctor. “I am calling you out to avenge her death.”

The left hook of the Marshall landed hard on Mr. Hatfield’s jaw and floored the later

“There will be killing today. We will wait for the Apaches to do that.” The Marshall made his point there.

Sex, Murder and Fun 1 Purgatory

The man walked into the Diner soon after he pulled over in his car. His car was an ancient Buick 1972 Model Skylark; V-8 engine with the two doors feature and his color was the original royal blue but given the years he had the car the shade of the royal blue was a fading blue. Like the car, he was past the marker of the middle age and was reaching his late fifties. He was wearing the corduroy light brown jacket double-breasted over the white collared shirt and faded blue jeans. He had on a pair of worn moccasins with the shoulder bag slung over his chest. His hair was waist length and held at the forehead by the red bandanna. It was not his Western dressing that impressed his looks but his set of blue eyes with the high cheekbones that caught the first impression. He had the slim frame but on a closer look, you could see the muscles rippling there with every move.

The man saw inside the Diner was five sets of tables and chairs lined up on the front next to the windows, while the long counter covered the length of the Diner and was lined up with eight seats. There were five persons patronizing the Diner; three were seated on the counter facing the two waitress and behind them was the kitchen with three staff. The other two were seated singularly on the two of the five tables.

The man took a seat on the counter and then grabbed the menu card. There were some flies on the menu and were shooed off by the man.

“Hello, Mister. What would you like?” The man was greeted by one of the waitresses named Alice. He in turn also shooed the flies. The man who had taken the seat looked to the menu and then voiced out his order.

“Coffee and burger coming up.” It was a simple order. The man then looked at the clock on the wall behind the counter. It read ten minutes to six in the evening. He saw the waitress took his order and then relayed the order to the kitchen. He was served his coffee soon after.

“Is that your dog out there?” The waitress at the counter asked. The man turned to look and then shook his head. The dog was seated on its hinds outside the Diner’s and looking in.

“Nope. It was in my car and must have followed me here.” The man added on. “The dog is still not mine.”

The waitress then walked off to collect the order for the man. When the waitress returned with the order, the man asked for Maple Syrup.

“Did you say Maple Syrup? I doubt you will add that to your burger. It was for a waffle or our pancakes but those are served in the morning.”

“I do like the Maple Syrup, please. I once read that the best Maple Syrup is from these lands. Could I try some please?” The man smiled.

“Did you not read the town sign before you turn in?” The waitress raised the question.

“Uh-huh. I read the sign but could not make it out. Some crows were perched over it and they had the sign smeared with droppings. I doubt that your Maple Syrup. Just for curiosity, what is this place named?”

“Huh.” The server paused on the reply. “Its Purgatory.”

“As in Purgatory in the place where the demons are banished to?” The man asked. “Well, I may be in the right place. But could I have the Maple Syrup please?”

“What gives, Mister? You are in Purgatory and you said you were to be here.” The waitress behind the counter snapped back. “Mister, I am not pulling your leg here. This here is Purgatory. And we don’t serve Maple Syrup here.”

“Well, if you are not serving it, then I will have to get my own.” The man reached into his slung bag. He saw then his shoes. It was on his feet. He looked at the waitress and then continued on. “Please don’t take my moccasins. It belonged to me ever since I learned how to wore one.”

“Aha, here is my Maple Syrup. Do anyone want some?” The man looked at the waitress and then the other patrons who were looking at him.

“Mister, I think you are not wanted here. Please continue your drive and don’t stop here anymore.” The waitress glared at the man.

“I did not chance here. I came here to perform the task provided to me.”

It was then the patrons of the Diner all stood up from their seats to face the newly arrived guest. There were three men and two women. They were all dressed casually but the missed one attire; they were shoeless.

“Oh, am I in trouble here?” The man stood up holding the Maple Syrup in his right hand. “If I am, please allow me to explain what the Maple Syrup means to all of us.”

“It’s the syrup of life. It’s used for healing and at times casting out of demons.” The man spoke to the others who had then revealed their true selves. “The inhabitants of Purgatory need not fight me. I am not here as your enemy but to seek a lost soul. She came here on the pretense of leaving the family but her desire to be with them still lives on.”

“No one came to Purgatory without a reason. And that reason is only one. The termination of an evil life. Here in Purgatory, they are given the sanctuary of the next lifetime. We welcome them here to serve their new life here. Once they have cleared the penance of their evil ways, they will be moved to the next level which is the heavenly level. Or remain here as demons in Purgatory.” The waitress named Alice replied.

“I can assume that what was Purgatory was about; the transit point for the redemption of penance in their life. Have you also innocent souls that were deceived to be here?” The man hit back.

“How dare you invade our sanctum and lay those insults before us? Who are you?” Alice asked.

“I am Hatai the Shaman of the Nation People.  I am also the giver of life to the Nation People. I am protected by the Dog who is the Guardian.” The man who had said himself to be a Shaman introduced his companion. “Heed my caution, demons. The Dog is the Guardian of the Nation People. We are here to bring back a lost soul taken by the Skin Walkers. The soul that was misguided and led here to serve a lifetime of penance when there were none.”

“No soul is without penance.” Alice snapped back. “All souls have penance to redeem.”

“Well said, demon but are all the souls that passed on arrive here?” Hatai challenged the demons. There was no reply from Alice. “There would be many that are innocents that do not come to Purgatory, as there are flies that do not stay on the food you served.”

“Flies are alike to the ones that held penance. They are drawn to Purgatory.” Alice replied while the swarm of flies landed on the counter.

“No, the flies are here because of the Maple Syrup. It was attracted by the smell. Or shall I redefine it? It was lured here.” Hatai placed the Maple Syrup on the counter. “It’s the nectar of sweetness to the flies. Like Purgatory, it’s the place drawn to by the evildoers. Unfortunately, there is an innocent soul taken in by the evildoer here. I am here to return that soul back to its rightful realm.”

Alice glared at Hatai and then retreated to the kitchen window. There she was seen to speak to the kitchen staff. She then approached the Shaman.

“We heed your words, Shaman. The soul will be expunged from Purgatory and so were you and the Dog. Neither of you is wanted here.”

The Shaman took his leave and left the Diner. The Dog jumped into the side seat and the Buick was seen on its way. When the car reached the junction that had the direction signboard, a child was seen standing there with moccasin shoes held in the hand. Hatai stopped the car and opened the passenger door.

“Come, my child. You are going home to your mother. She cares for you.” Hatai smiled at the kid. “Next time, do not accept sweets from strangers. Even if they tell you its Maple Syrup.”

Dark 40 It was Halloween

It was when its Halloween, I recalled the stooges at my neighbor’s house steps. The neighbor was a bore; grumpy paddy with a nasty habit of shooing me off his lawn. I had to admit his patch was the greenest and widest patch to play on and being kids then, we sneaked over to play there. The grump will come running and then we are off to own patch. We could play on our own but Mum will have me on the drying line if I hit her petunia flowers. Or if my ball hits Dad’s car on the driveway. Either way it was dangerous by kid’s understanding.

Grump may be a spoiler for us but during Halloween, he will decorate his house steps with three pumpkins placed in a row. He has the same design everywhere, and when he lit up the candle, they appeared to come alive.

That’s was why we avoided his house every Halloween.

We called those pumpkins, Moe, Curly and Larry after the Three Stooges. I never knew why but years later, I found out why.

At that younger age, we hardly knew their names so we made it up by calling them Stupid One, Stupid Two and Bashed One. Naturally, Curly was the one named last. He was always bashed by Moe. Little did we knew then, that the Three Stooges were originally the Stooges with four of them; namely Moe, Shemp, Larry with one other named Ted Healy. When I watched the show, it was only Moe, Curly and Larry.

They were our main entertainers then.

So were the pumpkins.

Neither of us dared approach the house with the three pumpkins there. Even the older kids will detour the place or at worse threw rotten eggs at the pumpkins. I guess it was their version of tricks.
That particular year during Halloween, I sprained my right leg and was homebound. Everyone of my age was out there while I sat on my house steps. I had some sweets courtesy of my mother, and that was it. I handed it out to the prankster which dropped by. Even my own mates dropped by and soon my supply of sweets ran dry. I sat there thinking of hobbling back to go back when I saw Grumpy crossed the street. It was like watching Dark Vader approaching me then and with my painful leg, all I wanted to do was scream but I did not.

Or could not.

“Hiya, Kiddo.” Grump greeted me. “Never got your name.”
“Jimmy” I replied and Grump asked if he could sit with me. I nodded at him. What else was I do? Called 911 or the Republic for help? I doubt my Jedi blade in my room will rush to me like Thor’s Hammer. Well, Grump sat down next to me.

“I brought some sweets.” Grump showed me the bag of sweets. Darn, they looked delicious. Who cares about diabetes when you are five? “Here take some. I have more to spare for the others.”
I did and then we sat and looked at the other kids passing by us. And taking the sweets from him. I guessed no one recognized me or maybe I was a ghostly apparition that could not be seen then.
“Jimmy, see those three guys there on the steps.” I looked across the street and saw the pumpkins. I nodded towards him.

“Have you seen the Three Stooges?” I nodded at his question.
“Do you know I knew them in person?” I looked at him. He was no stooge for sure. He looked more like Scrooge on Christmas Eve. Well, Grump continued on.

“I used to work at the studios where the show was made. I was the stagehand. I helped to stage the scene for the shoots.” Grump explained to me. “The Stooges were then Ted Healy and his Stooges. There were then Ted, Moe, Shemp, and Larry. Soon, Shemp left and Curly came on. It was bizarre for Curly left and Shemp returned.”

Grump looked at me and I nodded. I was listening but at five, you learned to nod a lot.

“Well, it was the year Shemp was leaving when we celebrated Halloween. He came to the studio with the three pumpkins. They were not real pumpkins but made of ceramics. He placed them on the ladder and soon the brothers all mimic the pumpkins as if they were carrying out a conversation. We all had a good time and soon everyone left. I stored the pumpkins away. When I retired, I took them home with me. Every Halloween, I bring them out to look at the kids. Do you know why?”

I nodded and the shook my head.

“The Three Stooges brought a lot of fun to everyone on the TV box. They seldom see the smiling faces who watched them. Since they have retired, I thought they ought to see it for themselves, at the fun the kids are having. Just as if it was then when they made us laugh that Halloween.”

I nodded once more.

It was years later, I understood Grump but he had passed on. The pumpkins were not found, but there was a picture of it which I found. It showed the pumpkins smiling at me. I smiled back and kept the picture since. And I laughed as I did when I watched the re-runs of the three stooges. Well, the laughter inside me for I was inflicted by a stroke some years back and my facial muscles are stiff.

Laughter was a therapy of mine for it could move facial muscles. I do it daily in my remembrance of the Three Stooges for they brought laughter to everyone including me.

I wished I could had nodded to that but it will one day when I recover.