#FridayFlash - Bigger

Whenever I look at Vera, I wish I were… well, maybe not just taller—though that would be like cool beyond belief—but bigger. Stone Cold Steve Austin bigger. Big enough to stomp Todd Millsap’s head into the ground, splatter his brains against the sidewalk like the grapes Jimmy Anderson and I squashed last week.

They were Mrs. Anderson’s grapes, the ones she planted last year and worked like a honey bee trying to get what she called a bumper crop, though that didn’t make much sense to me, being that she only had one grapevine. Still, she told Jimmy and me to leave ‘em alone, don’t touch ‘em, else God would strike us dead where we stood, leave nothin’ but our smoldering shoes and ashes behind so’s folks’d know what’d happened to us. Jimmy shot me a look like he thought that was a load.

“C’mon,” he said, and together we marched out to the backyard to the corner fence where his mom had planted her Hallelujah Garden.

Of course, I let him go first, being his house and backyard and all—at least that’s what I said—and when nothing came down at us, no lightning bolt or flash of fire, we stuffed a couple clusters each into our pants pockets and tore out of there as fast as we could. Just in case God was busy leveling the hammer down on some other fool who’d done what he shouldn’t have, we didn’t want to be around when the Almighty finally figured out them grapes was missing.

That was last week, and I still have the image in my head, the stains left behind on the concrete where we smashed them with the soles of our shoes. The stuff was nasty looking, like a pigeon had a serious case of the scours or something. And of course, that’s what I want Todd’s brains to look like, too, one big giant mess of juicy goo running down into the gutter.

If it wasn’t for Vera paying so much attention to him, he might be okay—heck, we might even be friends, though that’s a tough one to imagine, let alone swallow. But here’s the rub: she pays way too much attention to him, doting over how smart he is, what a fine young man he’s going to be. And here’s the rub of the rub: he brings it on, knowing full well what he’s doing. One day, he even looked at me and winked. Almost like he was telling me to forget it; Vera was his. Stupid dingleberry.

It’s him who doesn’t have a clue. You see, before I bash out his brains, I’m gonna stab both of my Berol number twos into his eye sockets, make him look like some alien life force come down from the planet Drakkamundo, way out there somewhere in the next solar system. Then, after I’ve hammered the pencils home, I’m gonna take my last pack of M-80s, stuff ‘em all up his you-know-what and light the fuse. Jimmy and me, we did something like that to an anthill last week. Seeing all them dead bodies scattered at least four or five feet away from the mound, we both hit the ground grabbing at our bellies. And just think what kind of kick Jimmy will get out of Todd running around, slapping at his rear—only he’ll be slapping at nothing ‘cause the M-80s will blow it all off. Man, Jimmy’ll pee his pants, he’ll be laughing so hard.

And then, while Todd’s running around, screaming his head off, I’ll be ever-so-helpful and give him a pail of turpentine to—

“Johnny?”

I turn and look into the most beautiful eyes God ever made.

“Yes, Vera?”

She smiles. “It’s Mrs. Whithers to you, Johnny.”

“Okay… Mrs. Whithers.”

“That’s better. Have you finished your quiz?”

Looking down, I grit my teeth. “I haven’t started yet.”

She glances at her watch. “Well, you only have a few minutes left, so hurry up, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Across the room, Todd raises his hand. “I’m done.”

Vera looks at him and smiles. “See how quickly Todd did his quiz, boys and girls? Let’s see who can get theirs done next.”

Todd looks at me, gives me the finger, and smiles.

I grab my Berol number two and smile back. The stupid dingleberry.

#FridayFlash - A Trip in the Valley

Nick felt a rush in his stomach, like his morning eggs had suddenly been re-scrambled, as the hovercraft flew over the bend and dipped down across the cracked arroyo bed. Funny to think that water once flowed in rivers here, he thought. Now they had to dig thousands of feet to get it. His body pressed against the seat as they shot up out of the dry gulch and launched back across the plains. He glanced at the dashboard, saw the display linger momentarily at ninety before it started to climb again.

Behind the controls, Lauren’s father pointed a gnarled finger toward the horizon. He wagged it back and forth. “Look around you,” he said. “This is the Valley, as far as you can see. A land so rugged and harsh, yet so eternally optimistic. In fact, some say this was the place God decided to let go unfinished when day seven came around.” He chuckled and glanced over at Nick. “Of course, they ain’t never been to southern Arizona, I suspect.”

Nick gave a smile and a nod, trying to act interested, but was more concerned about the speedometer, the numbers now topping a hundred and still going. He wasn’t excited about the trip; he’d seen this side of the Red Planet before and didn’t think much of it. And the truth was he could have picked any number of things he would have rather done today instead of riding around in beat-up Tritan, the crazy old man not even watching the road. Like standing in the aisle outside the lingerie department while Lauren thumbed through racks of bras and panties, old women giving him their best disgusted look as they passed by with their grandchildren in tow. God knows, that ranked about as low as anything as he could imagine.

And there was no doubt about Lauren’s father being crazy, either. The first day he met her parents, the old man, Luther, shook his hand and quickly gave him a tour of their massive six-thousand square-foot complex. Under the dome in the backyard, Nick noticed a row of crosses; when he asked about them, Luther said, “They’s loved ones, Nick.” He smiled. “A man can’t live a good life without keeping his loved ones close by.”

The way the man looked at him then, like he meant every word, sent a current of bad energy through Nick’s skin. It was another good reason to be someplace else. But then, Lauren had insisted, said it would do them both some good, and so here he was.

Looking over, hearing the whine of the engine, Nick noticed that the display had finally leveled off around a hundred and ten. Behind them, a cloud of red dust trailed in their slipstream. God help me, he thought. One flick of the wrist, and they could forget the part about being full of grace; there wouldn’t even be time to say, “Hail, Mary.”

Luther thrust his arm across Nick’s chest and pointed. “Looky there, off that way about a half-kilometer.”

In the distance modular homes, like silver Airstreams back on Earth, congregated together. More like tin-can coffins, Nick thought. Hitch up and roll 'em away to the burying grounds when the time came.

“Now that,” Luther said, a proud smile on his face, “was my very first development. About twenty years ago. Right after Lauren was born.”

No nodding this time. Cluttered with trash and lean-to solar panels, the placed looked like images of shanty towns that Nick had seen in some of his history books.

“Carried the note on every one of them,” Luther added. “Some of them six times over, all of them at least eighteen percent. Even got lucky enough to sell a few for a hundred-thousand Kronos, you believe that. Folks are still paying.”

Nick frowned. Eighteen percent?

“Now I know what you’re thinking,” Luther said. “How can I sell a piece of crap for such exorbitant rates and prices? But look again, and see it through their eyes. Think where they came from, what they had to deal with before they crossed over on the shuttle. To them, this is the land of promise; and if they have to pay a little extra to live in a better place, so be it. And besides…” He shrugged. “If not me, somebody else would be selling the space.”

Nick closed his eyes, raked a hand through his hair.

“This why you brought me out here? You wanted me to know how you really made your money?”

Luther looked at him for beat, then shook his head. “You never quit making money, son. One guy can’t pay, you find somebody else to take his place. And if he does pay, you take the profits, buy more land and develop it, too.” The craft started slowing down. “No, I brought you out to see if you’re the man you claim to be. A self-motivator, who can tackle any challenge.”

Luther turned the craft down another road. Ahead, Nick saw a worn-out station. It's yard was littered with pieces of broken-down machines and equipment.

Luther gave him a hard look. “’Cause I gotta say, ain't just anyone who can have my daughter. I want someone who's got a killer instinct. Someone strong enough to run the family business.”

Nick squinted. “The family business.”

Luther reached down under the seat and pulled out a gun. “Just so happens, today’s foreclosure Tuesday. Time to evict some non-payers.”

“And then what? They'll become a burden to the rest of us.”

“No free-loaders after I'm done.”

Nick looked at the gun and didn’t like the feel in his gut. “Don’t they have a magistrate for this?”

Luther shook his head. “Out here, I’m the law.”

“And if I refuse?”

Luther looked at him for a moment. “Only loved ones get crosses in the backyard, Nick.”

#FridayFlash - The Dragon Lady

Jarol stood like a sentinel, facing the children before him. All eyes looked at him expectantly. “No,” he finally said. “I promised your mother I’d have you in bed by nine o’clock, and it’s now eight-fifty-five.”

The youngest one cried out first. “Aw, c’mon.”

Jarol looked down at Tony, and felt a small pang of worry. Such a big voice, and yet for a six-year old the boy looked no more than a day past four, his size far smaller than it should have been by now. But then, appearances aside, the fire in those eyes told him this one held the strength and independence of a child twice his age.

Jarol shook his head. “C’mon nothin’. A promise is a promise, you know that, and I intend to keep mine.”

The middle child, Andrew, spoke up then. “But, pa-paw, we still have five minutes.” He gave Jarol a pleading look that begged for reasonable thought. Couldn’t he bend just this once? Always the one to find the loophole in any argument, Andrew would most likely be standing before a judge someday, arguing ad infinitum on what the legislature truly meant by this or that law.

Jarol glanced over, saw the look on the oldest child’s face--a look that said, so what are you gonna do now?--and felt his determination wither. There were only three of them, and he wasn’t growing any younger.

“Oh, all right.” He glanced at the clock, took a deep breath and swallowed it. “I guess I can spare a few minutes.” He shuffled across the wooden floor to the easy chair, the leather worn and shiny, and the pillow top sighed as he slumped into it. His hands cupped the armrests. “So what do you boys want to hear about tonight?”

The two youngest looked to the oldest, Tommy, who gazed toward the ceiling, his lips pressed together, and after a moment nodded his head like he’d just solved the riddle behind Mona Lisa’s smile. “How about the Dragon Lady?” he said.

“Yeah,” the other two shouted.

“The Dragon Lady,” Jarol said. “But it’s so long, and you’ve heard it at least a hundred times already.”

“But we want to hear it a hundred and one times,” Andrew said. “And after that, a hundred and two.”

Tony nodded. “It’s the best one.”

Jarol looked to Tommy, who stood there with arms crossed and a smile on his face. He pursed his lips for a moment and then said, “Okay, the Dragon Lady it is.”

“What color were her eyes again?” Andrew asked.

Jarol laid his head back. “They were black. As black as the new moon sky with all the stars swallowed up. In fact, I’d be willing to bet the light from the torches of a thousand foot soldiers had been snuffed out with just one look from the Dragon Lady. Now boys, there’s evil and then there’s evil, and she was by far the most evil woman who ever lived.”

The room drew silent.

“Instead of skin, her body was coated in scales, green and sparkling like emeralds. And when she talked, her forked tongue flicked in and out, her voice sounding like the crash of ocean waves. Her breath smelled like burning tar.” He told how she came to be and where she lived on the hill. “For years, she ruled over the land with a power no man had ever seen. With spells the bent fire, the flames so hot they would melt the stoutest of shields, she terrorized the people. She devoured her enemies whole like a python eats mice.”

Tony leaned into Andrew, wrapped both arms around his brother.

“‘Bring me your best men,’ she screamed from the hilltop, ‘and I will eat them all.’ And for the longest time, nobody dared. Most hid behind rocks, fearful that one blast of fire from the Dragon Lady would instantly turn them to ash. Then one day, a new warrior appeared, a young man who said, enough, the people had lived in fear too long and had apparently forgot who they were. Nobody had ever heard of him before, and though it had been rumored he was only a minor’s son, the youngest at that, nobody really knew for sure where he came from, or how, without sword or shield, he could act so brave and valiant. But stood before the Dragon Lady he did, wearing only the clothes on his back, because when given the chance to wear the best armor from the finest blacksmith, he refused. ‘I’m not a swordsman,’ he said. ‘Instead, I will go against her with only that which I hold in my hands and the fire in my heart.’ The people were amazed. ‘But you have nothing in your hands,’ they said.”

“But that didn’t matter, did it pa-paw.”

Jarol looked at Tony and smiled. “Not a bit. He went before her, opened his palms, and blue light shot forth. It swirled around the Dragon Lady, and a new look filled her eyes, one that nobody ever saw before--fear. In an instant, it was over. The blue light twisted and spiraled into the sky, and nobody ever saw the Dragon Lady again.”

“Wow,” Andrew said. “That one never gets old, pa-paw.”

Jarol looked at the clock and exhaled. “Well, will you look at that? I gave you the story and still have a minute to spare.” He swept a hand toward the stairs. “Now off to bed.”

The two youngest gave him a hug, a kiss, and then scurried away. Tommy lingered behind, smiling.

“You like that story, huh?” Jarol asked.

Tommy nodded. “Because I know it’s true.” He stepped forward, one hand inside the pocket of his jeans. “And you know what else I know, pa-paw?”

Jarol frowned. What was this? “I can’t imagine.”

From his pocket, the boy produced a wristwatch. His time read nine-fifteen. “I know who and what you are.”