Friday Fictioneers

The Friday Fictioneers Challenge can be found here (FF).

Copyright -Sandra Crook

As a young boy  I liked to help my grandfather bale the straw, load it on his tractor  and then drive that old tractor to the outskirts of town and sell to the local crop dealer. He taught me to drive that old Ford tractor before I could drive a car. Some days we had to wait in line before we could unload our tractor. While he waited in line I went inside to  spend some  time  with the other boys my age.  I was having a ball.

But one day,  while waiting,  he accidentally left me there by myself.

Word count = 100

Hardscrabble — Speakeasy #150

The rules for the Speakeasy challenge can be found here.

My name is Cora Ann Skinner. I was born in Stoddard, Missouri on February 9, 1873. I married James Alexander King on May 15th, 1892. I was 19 years old. My mother had to sign our wedding certificate because of my age. I was one of 10 children of John Skelton and Lucretia Mcpheeters. I had ten children; John Daniel, Charley, Vera, Walter, Herman, Marshall, Roy, Nellie, Bertha, and Ralph.

Life was hard in Missouri in the late 19th century. James and I had a small shack called “Hardscrabble”.James never worked a steady job in our entire marriage. He did handyman type jobs around Hannibal. There were occasions where he would take a job “out-of-town”. Where “out-of-town” was always a mystery.

My brother Rueben committed suicide. He had a mental breakdown and locked himself in the attic with his bible and spent several days reading it. They found him hanging from the rafters. I never liked him but he planted the seed.

My father came to Stoddard county from Hawkins county, TN. He had owned some slaves in TN but knew that the area of southeast MO didn’t like slavery but they also didn’t like blacks. So before he moved he freed his slaves. One slave was named Jake and he had taken our last name. He had been with them most if not all of his life. He refused to leave them after receiving his freedom and make the journey with them to MO. It was a worry to my family that he would be beaten or worse by some ignorant member of the KKK which was pretty well established in Stoddard County at that time. They did finally talk him into moving and he settled in an African-American community near Cape Girardeau, MO. I lost a true friend in Jake.

After ten children my husband left me in 1915 the year young Ralph was born. Just disappeared, like through a black  hole and then never returned. Not a single person ever heard from James again. All I had left was ten children, a four room shack, and  five acres with a lone oak tree smack in the middle. The summer and early fall of 1917 were brutally hot, even for southeast MO. That’s when I lost my mind; “snapped” they would say today. I wanted to take Ralphie with me, but in my state of mind could not figure out how to do it. It was surprising easy once I got the rope over the lower limb. Just slipped the noose over my neck and jump off the peach basket. That would do it  I thought. But then I thought about my ten children. Along in this Godforsaken place.

She waited for someone to tell her  what  to do next.

In The Dark I Found

…nothing. It’s still hard after all these years to reach out for someone in the hour before daylight and find nothing. Nothing to touch. Nothing to snuggle up to. Not even the heavy breathing that characterized her final days. She had been my faithful companion for the last fifteen years.

Lucy also had an attitude problem. I would joke with my friends that she even walked with an attitude. It was like her body language said “You want a piece of me? Well bring it on mister.” She became ill a couple of years ago and her state of health was deteriorating quickly. In her last days she became very irritable at the slightest little change in her daily routine. I now had to feed her myself. And she hated taking her pills that the doctor had ordered for her. “What do they know about my state of heath. I bet they look it all up on Goggle and then regurgitate the information hoping that  I would understand what the hell they were saying.” On her last medical appointment the doctor had prepared me for the worse case scenario.

Her death came very quickly. I put her in the hospital  the night  before and  the  doctors called me late the next afternoon to say that I should come down to the hospital quickly to say my goodbyes.

As I entered the hospital I was greeted by a very somber technician who lead me to a “grieving  room”. This room smelled of death. There was no hiding or masking of that smell. After a few minutes they brought her body in. She looked wide awake. Too wide awake. She had her leg bandaged in preparation for inserting the needle that would take her to another world. In a few minutes  it was over. I stayed and prayed for what seemed like days. I don’t usually cry but I sure was making up for that in a big hurry as the tears would not stop.

When I was ready  to leave they had already put  her in an urn. She now rests on top of the fireplace mantle with our  other  deceased cats.

The Cave — Picture It & Write

This post is in response to ermilia.

by Jonathan Taylor Sweet

Tell me again about the past

The one where everything was green or blue

Why now just us

In this winter cave

I only see the future and in this dream there is but one of us

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The Chess Queens — Speakeasy #149

The rules for the Speakeasy challenge can be found here.

MurielStreeter

“Don’t blame the sinner.” That was the last words Jose  uttered before the jarring jolt of electricity ended his life. The events that preceded this vicious event that would end his life became were clear to him. He had killed his rival Hector.

He was the War Lord of Los Angeles. He alone controlled the flow of illegal drugs into this city of Angels. He had developed a very sophisticated organization. There were the runners, the pawns that did all the dirty work and paid the price if they were caught. There were district managers that the runners reported to. He even had the Church in his pocket. Even Bishops could be bought. They would look the other way if you had evidence against them using their little boys. The Church looked the other way for these sinners. He even had his main bitch, Carmen, who would do anything for him.

He began noticing that he was losing bits  of HIS  territory. A corner here, a corner there, and then some of his lieutenants were defecting. His extensive network was beginning to leak.

He was informed by his men that a new rival was after his turf and his name was Hector. Hector was organizing his narcotic gang along the same lines as Jose.  He even had a main squeeze named Rosetta. Hector was on the fast track to replace him and he  knew it. He vowed that would never happen as long as he lived.

Jose had a large shipment of drugs from Columbia that  was scheduled to arrive at the port the next day. He knew that this was the most vulnerable part of this operation.

As the boat approached the dock, Jose checked and made sure his players were all in position. The two ranking Generals positioned on top of freight containers, the two  Lieutenants on either side of the dock and 10 runners, five on each side of the dock, armed with AK-47 assault rifles. Jose, with Carmen at his side, was safely seated in an extra armored Escalade  about 100 yards away.

As the  boat navigated within about 5 feet of  its docking  station the  crew dropped to the  dock and began securing  the  large vessel. As planned, the crew members were killed within seconds, the gun fire subdued by silencers. Two runners headed for the captains location and would soon take him out of action. The two containers containing the  contraband were located mid ship, the lowest point and easiest point of entry for his team.

Jose looked at Carmen in the dark recesses of the Escalade, patted her on the knee and said, “Everything going as planned my queen. The street value of this shipment is around $10,000,000. You may have whatever you want and live the life of luxury you deserve.”

With a roar of tremendous power three Black Hummers barreled through  the  gates that Jose  though  were secure. All three had open roofs where  suddenly  three  men with machine guns started heading toward the ship. At the same time Jose heard two sharp cracks and saw his two Generals crumble. “Good God, they have snipers.”

Two of the Hummers continued their journey towards the now docked ship. Jose could  only watch as all but two of his runners  were gunned  down. Jose gasped as the third Hummer headed toward his  Escalante. He could see clearly now that  the shooter in this Hummer had an antitank rocket launcher.  And the shooter was Hector. Looking through  the Hummers wind shield he could see that the driver was Rosetta. The resulting  explosion killed his driver and threw him and  Carmen to the hard concrete of the  dock.

As Hector approached the burning overturned vehicle, with Rosetta trailing, Jose already losing  consciousness, drew the pistol he kept inside his jacket pocket and fired. The bullet was a clean hit to Hector’s face and his brains flew out behind him leaving a strawberry trail of blood.

Jose  last memory before the trail that  convicted  him of murdering Hector  was the  vision  of  Carmen and Rosetta  standing  side by side and surveying the battle field.

“a la potencia de las mujeres” *

* To The Power of Women

Highball and Seven Murders — Episode II

Episode one can be found here:Episode One.

Melinda, still not sure what had transpired, turned to Jill and said “What just happened? I saw four men, including 2 police officers enter the garage and then the sound of guns being fired I think and then the same four men emerge but this time with the two police officers leading the other men at gun point. That building is  where our husbands were going to meet with Mr. Morgan wasn’t it?”

Sirens could be heard in the background as Jill replied, “Yes, but I think something has gone terribly wrong.”

Detective Bacon, a Sargent with the Chicago Police Department along with his partner Lee Johnson were first on the scene. 

Highball and Seven Murders

Once again it’s time for Friday Fictioneers with our host Rochelle giving the challenge.

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going a few words over the count.)

Copyright - Janet Webb

“Women just want to have fun, right,” said Melinda to her BFF Jill.

“Yup, let the boys attend to business,” Jill replied.

Suddenly Jill’s German Shepherd, Highball, who was leashed to a truck outside began howling and barking. Rushing into the street they saw a red Cadillac pull to a stop in front of the garage next door. Four men, two dressed in police uniforms with machine guns drawn, emerged and walked inside. The sounds of the machine guns firing was unmistakable. The Cadillac sped away.  Later, the bodies of seven men were found ripped apart.