Tales From One Warm Summer Night (Part 1)

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My heart beat faster one warm summer night,

When four friends and I exchanged tales around a fire,

Connie leaned forward in her chair,

“There are fairies dancing there,

Around the old oak tree,

A place that’s magical for them and me,”

Her brown smoldering eyes held me still,

I searched their depths until I had my fill,

“Fairies cast spells on strangers passing through,

Using their magic to make dreams come true,”

Connie, her raven black hair shining in the moonlight,

Said, “I’ll tell you more, later in the night,”

Jim cleared his throat, glanced at the others, then at me,

“I’ll tell you a story about terror at sea,

Of pirates who changed from their plundering ways,

Experienced old salts brave and crusty as they be,

Who saved their own lives by tossing treasures into the sea,”

He paused for a moment to catch his breath,

“Then I’ll close with a ship named ‘DEATH’,”

Rhonda stood up and with a shy little grin,

“I want to tell you about heroic women and their wild, wild men,

How they conquered the West with love, tears, and sweat,

Overcame their fears and stood up to threats,”

Bill couldn’t resist telling about wars with blood and gore,

“Freedom is always worth fighting for,”

He hesitated as if he wanted his words to sink in,

“There’s a change as boys become men,

Cannons boom constantly and tanks shake their world around,

Every man becomes braver as he crosses contested ground,”

I listened and waited to share a truth that was stark,

I wanted to tell them about danger that lurked in the dark,

My story had been forgotten and I lost my chance to speak,

For growls were getting closer and my stomach was getting weak,

I gasped and stuttered but nothing they could understand,

They continued with their stories as I wrung my hands,

Connie looked at me apprehensively, as if I was mad,

“I see you’re preparing your story, but your acting is bad,”

There were murmurs of agreement as she continued her tale,

“The fairies were delighted to find one day,

A knight tired from his journey, under the oak he lay,

On his way to the castle he had fallen asleep,

His mission was to rescue a princess from the keep,

The fairies laughed, they danced, they cast a spell,

They wanted their magic to serve him well,

For he would soon face the witch and the evil queen,

Brave knights who’d gone before were never again seen,

The fairies wove a multi-colored cloak from spider webs and dew,

If he wore it at the castle it would hide him from view,

A second spell they bestowed before he awoke,

The next two he kissed would go up in smoke,”

Her story was entertaining and the fire was going out,

But Jim looked sullen and was beginning to pout,

“Go ahead, Jim,” I said, “I’ll throw more wood on the fire,

Continue your story about the treasures pirates aquire,”

Uneasily I studied the woods for the terror it contained,

While my friends shared the fire and with stories entertained,

“After a brief skirmish with one of the king’s battleships,

The pirates disappeared into the fog and gave them the slip,

They plundered the coast, found treasures to steal,

Escaped angry husbands, had rum and good meals,

The tars watched a hundred sunsets as they traveled by boat,

Then the pirates crossed the Atlantic to lands remote,

Found Spanish ships loaded with gold from the new world received,

The pirates fired their cannons and the gold relieved,

And off they sailed thinking they were safe from harm,

But a hurricane was brewing and no one sounded the alarm,”

While he gathered his breath to go on with his tale,

Rhonda couldn’t wait one minute longer,

“The men in my story were strong, but the women were stronger,

From Boston and New York the men went west,

Looking for adventure, for gold, or land at its best,

Towns sprang up overnight with guns making the law,

It was easy to be dead or quick on the draw,

The last place of civilization was named Kansas City,

Men venturing west beyond that were given no pity,

Uncivilized, untamed, life always in the rough,

If a woman dared go west she had to be tough,

She plowed by day, ran her household by candlelight,

Bore her babies at home, and fought for her rights,

In the fields or on the porch she carried a gun,

But in the bedroom at night most battles were won,

Those feisty women changed each odious law,

Against those in petticoats stubborn men would withdraw,”

“A nice history lesson, Rhonda,” Bill said, “Now it’s my turn,

There was a young man who had much about war to learn,

Both sides agreed about Christmas Day, so soldiers ceased fire,

No guns were deadly as they crossed over barbed wire,

Troops celebrated together but before the sun went down,

Soldiers took their positions and prepared for another round,

Deadly combat began early the next day,

Friends became enemies, no mercy did they display,

This young man, eighteen at most, charged a machine gun nest,

Dodged bullets as he ran, but was more scared than the rest,

He was tired of seeing his friends shot down,

So he dashed across and conquered the ground,

He didn’t want to be a hero but what else could he do,

The war was not over and his job was not through,”

Stories of fairies, heroic women, war and the sea,

Were all suspended while my friends waited for me,

All the people in these stories marched upon imagination’s stage,

Yet a few feet away, more than enough to fill a page,

There was a story ready to unfold,

About a creature hungry and bold,

Perhaps I was the only one who could see,

Those long fangs and those eyes glaring at me,

I had listened and waited and I wanted to share,

But I was transfixed by that malevolent stare,

I wanted to ask if this was but a dream,

Because if it was real, I needed to scream,

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When the Wall Fell

I cheered when the wall came down,

Thinking darkness and secrecies of mankind,

Would be opened and exposed,

And love and hope I would find,

 

When people of other countries rebelled,

Speaking up against injustice and tyranny,

With sit-ins and rallies, they refused to leave,

Until voices were heard and they were free,

 

But militant groups raised their guns,

Determined their type of order must prevail,

Pushing dissidents from roads and parks,

Insisting that peaceful protestors must fail,

 

The internet buzzed as countries fell one by one,

As people shed their blood for freedom won,

Yet tyranny would not easily back down,

For power and wealth are rarely done,

 

From various news sources we saw police,

In scenes reminiscent of Kent State,

Pepper spray and bash some heads,

Creating again deep strands of hate,

 

A politician uttered comments of glee,

“If they just do what they’re told,

They’ll always be free,”

 

Not understanding the truths that are sought,

Of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,

Eloquently stated by our founding fathers,

Peace cannot be forced under brutal duress,

 

Their blood stains the peaceful ground,

As people stand against those who oppress,

As waves of protest go from town to town,

Facing those who are trying to suppress,

 

When any of those selected to protect and serve,

Become the abusers of our society,

Then we become more like the rest of the world,

Fighting our own brand of tyranny,

 

Our domestic tranquility must not be induced by fear,

Nor should the general welfare fall under the heel,

Of any group with power or status who would dare steer,

Away from peace and make our blessings of liberty less real.

 

 

The Coin (Part 9)

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Vanna was
emotionally drained and ready to abort the mission even though two of her
original targets were left.  Reggie was
one, but the other person she didn’t know.
She was afraid of Reggie and she knew something had to be done about
him.  The other man was a mystery and she
didn’t want him killed. Her anger had dissipated long before the judge had
died.

In spite of her reluctance the coin had become
active and was willing her on again.  Its
mission and her mission seemed to be going in different directions.  Where was she heading now?  She didn’t like having blind faith in a coin,
especially one she couldn’t control. She was glad when the coin directed her to
a bus going out of the city.  Maybe the
killing was over.

The bus
stopped several times to pick up riders or let them off.  When the bus stopped at a small mall in the
suburbs the coin began vibrating again.
Vanna was surprised because the location seemed so unlike the bustling downtown
office building or the court house.

She
disembarked in front of a small grocery store and looked around.  The stores and businesses were mostly chain
stores and unpretentious. The parking lots were almost full and people were
arriving and leaving.  Two security
police cars patrolled the lots while two security cops strolled through the
mall.  With all the things that had taken
place Vanna felt safer knowing they were there.

Suddenly two
men burst out of one of the stores, each carrying a bag and waving a gun.  “Get out of our way!” one man yelled.

A clerk
emerged from the store.  “Stop them!” he
yelled.  One of the gunmen turned and
fired but the clerk jumped back inside unscathed.

Vanna
realized the men were running in her direction.
She wanted to dash into a store but she stood frozen.  The one in the lead grabbed her arm and spun
her around.  Vanna’s purse swung out and
up, catching the second gunman by surprise and throwing him off balance.  His head hit the pavement and he lay still.

The other
robber stood there, momentarily shocked by the turn of events.  Without thinking, Vanna drove her knee into
his groin.  He collapsed to his knees
next to his accomplice.  Vanna stepped
back, watching the man, knowing he still clutched a gun.

Recovering
quickly, he staggered to his feet and raised his gun.  His eyes met hers.  Her eyes widened in recognition as one
thought raced through her mind.  “They’re
just boys and this one is my brother!”

“Karl, what
are you doing?” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“You shouldn’t
be here interfering, Vanna!” he snapped.
His eyes hardened and he pointed the gun at her.  “Goodbye, sister,” he said slowly.

She heard two shots and closed her eyes. Expecting
pain, Vanna waited for the agony but nothing changed.  Death must have been swift.  She opened her eyes and realized that nothing
had happened to her.  Karl stood there,
his eyes unfocused and his face pale. Vanna watched in horror as blood dripped
from his arm.

The other
boy clambered to his feet and put his arm around Karl’s shoulder. “Come on,
Karl! Let’s get out of here!”

With a quick meaningful glance at Vanna, Karl warned
weakly, “Don’t say nothing!”  Then he
followed his friend into one of the shops and out the back.

A mall
security coop ran towards her yelling excitedly, “I got him! I got him! I can
see drops of blood!” He was right.  Spots
of blood marked a clear trail, one that the police could follow later.

Ten minutes
later two squad cars and an unmarked car pulled up to the main entrance of the
mall.  While policemen secured the area
and looked for any gunmen or victims, detectives began taking statements.  “Lady,” a detective said, “You’re both a hero
and very lucky.  You could have been
killed.”

She mulled
over what the detective said and realized he was right.  During this whole time the coin had been
still.  It had not protected her.

The coin
stirred and began vibrating.  Her head ached
and her knee was throbbing.  She knew she
couldn’t chase after Karl.  He would only
become angrier.  She would have to wait
until he calmed down.  He might listen to
her then, if he went home, and if he could get home.

Vanna
hobbled over and leaned against a wall.
She noticed the name “Sports Therapy” on a nearby door.  A man came out and looked around
nervously.  “Miss, are you all right?”

“My knee
hurts.”

“Come inside
and I’ll check it out.”  He extended his
hand.  “I guess I should introduce myself
first.  I’m Steve.  I’m a physical therapist.”

Vanna
followed him inside and sat on the edge of a bench.  At his direction she flexed her knee forward
and backward.  “You’ll probably have a
bruise but I see no swelling. Don’t get up yet.
I’ll get some ice.”

Vanna looked
around the room.  Various kinds of
equipment were spaced strategically.
There were weight machines, a stationary bicycle, other benches that
were fitted with sheets and pillows, large elastic bands, and other equipment
she couldn’t identify.

Her gaze
settled on a framed picture on a desk nearby. “Is that your family?” she asked
when he returned.

Steve
smiled.  “Yes.  My wife, my son, and my two daughters.”

As he placed
a towel filled with ice around her knee she noticed a small tattoo. Suddenly
she knew why she was there. Her thoughts raced. “He had helped her.  He had a family.  She didn’t need or want revenge anymore. She
needed to go and find her brother. How could she have forgotten him?”

The coin was
humming.  “No!”  Vanna stated emphatically.  “No!”  This
has gone far enough!” But already the coin was out of her control.

Steve looked
at her oddly.  “Did you hit your head or
get bumped outside?  Lady, I think your
knee will be fine.  I think you should go
now.”

He took the
ice pack and hurried her towards the door.
The mall was quiet.   Yellow tape
stretched around the crime scene and police swarmed everywhere.

Off to her
left a man stepped back into the shadows and she had the impression he was
avoiding her.  Even so, he was vaguely
familiar.

In front of
her a security cop twirled his gun as he told anyone within listening range the
story of his heroic act.  One of the
detectives looked disgusted.  “Put your
gun away, George, before you hurt someone.”

George
twirled it one more time.  The gun
slipped from his hand, fell to the concrete, and fired.

Steve followed
Vanna to the door and as she stepped outside Steve unexpectedly gave her a
push.  As she tumbled to the side the
bullet from George’s gun whizzed by and struck Steve in the chest.

The world
stopped for an instant.  Vanna watched
horrified as the police raced to the stricken man. There was little they could
do as his life ebbed away.

The police
turned their attention to the security cop.
As they led him away he began crying, “It was an accident.  Something knocked the gun out of my
hand.  I didn’t mean to do it!”

Vanna knew
he was right.  The coin had killed Steve.
She shivered as other questions began popping up and nagging her.  “Was Steve the real target?  The bullet had barely missed her. Was the
coin working for her or against her? Was it a coincidence that Karl and the
coin picked this mall?  And finally, was
that Reggie she saw step back into the shadows?”  Vanna had much to think about and she had to
get answers quickly if she wanted to stop any more violence.  Or if she wanted to survive.

(To be
continued)

 

 

 

 

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