The Reason (Chapter 27 Stolen Triple)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Shooter Nelson had a dilemma.  It was a swelter of a day and it wasn't going down.  He kept on trying to flush the toilet but nothing happened!  "Dang it" he flicked his hair to one side of his shoulder as he turned around to take off the back lid of the toilet bowl.  He was working at Poultry Provisions and at the first chicken coop there was a bathroom with toilet and sink.  As he lifted the cover the chain was broke.  Now it was a hot afternoon and several flies were hovering around, Shooter smacked around as they landed on him and you know since he delt it himself he did not smell it.  He got an idea!  There was a stale loaf of bread that he planned on tossing to the chickens on top of the feed bin.  Knowing a quick fix,the twist tie on the loaf would bridge the gap where the chain broke.  When Shooter was dead set with intention he worked quickly.  After he got out of the bathroom he began to make his way to where the stale loaf of bread was.  Wearing flip flops in a chicken silo he walked with purpose.  Chickens ran around and the whir of the large fans circulated air, something caught the tip of his flop or maybe he didn't lift his foot high enough, he stumbled kicking a chicken and then he fell.  Shooter Nelson in all his life never felt such a sudden pain, he grabbed his ankle and then his toe, "Oh God" he yelled his toe throbbed and hurt.  Tears whelled up in his eyes he bit his lip and flicked his hair then he called the office of Poultry Provisions to have them send an ambulance.  His newly married wife ran from the office area to his side.

 

****

 

Not far off Reg Folues walked away from a discussion with Hack and Handy the contractors that were nearly finished with building the exterior of the new Chicken barns.  With all of the working long hard hours he had stopped paying attention to his health, often going days with very little food or appetite.  Somedays late at night he'd drink hard liquor to the quantity that he would often loose count.  Sometimes he'd argue with Debbie-Sue over Loretta and the misery of her would make things all the more worse.  Bitter nights turned into bitter weeks and the consecutive rainless heatwaves made it a blur of a summer.But at least his new partnership at Poultry Provisions was a blessing.  The previous night Reg started feeling a pain in the right lower quadron of his abdomen but he figured that he twisted wrong and sometimes around that area it would hurt from when he had surgery to remove his spleen after Shooter beat him with a mini baseball bat many years before.  It was nearly mid day after the night previous and the pain lingered, he sweat pretty hard, the day was hot and dry and maybe he needed shit good.  Yeah that was something that made sense.  The sound of the sirens came closer to Poultry Provisions and he wanted to get to the source of the problem.  He walked quickly with his hand to his abdomen and as he got to the first barn the ambulance crew had arrived and they opened the door going in.  Reg quickly followed, was that he twisted wrong he could not be certain except for the pain.  Oh the pain! And it worsened and the cold sweat was horrible.  The sound of circular saws, compressors, and nailguns goings off seemed louder than normal as Handy and Hack continued construction.  Reg noticed Shooter sitting on the ground inside of the chicken barn with his legs spread out clutching a leg with his hair drapped in front of his face.  The throbbing within his stomach became unbearable, he felt his head he was running a fever, he knew it.  Then he felt weak and he fell to the ground.  An E.M.T rushed to Reg's side he clutched the lower right side of his abdomen.  "It's his appendix" the E.M.T yelled to his co workers that where putting Shooter Nelson on a stretcher.  It was a blur so he couldn't tell how long and before he lost consciousness  both he and Shooter were rushed to the hospital.

 

****

 

The first game that Faith and Craig played was go fish and then they began to fight.  It was unlike Craig to instigate or to be direct with her and it could have been the whiskey talking but they fought over Hawaii, California, Dionysus Refined, Faith cheating, Craig cheating, the attempt on Craig and Sif’s life, and then the Barely Mare head on the table.  Faith didn’t hold back she swore the most between the two while Craig put up his dukes he insulted her with the intention of hurting her feelings.  When Faith reached her limit she grabbed the chipmunk cage and headed for the door Craig blocked her from leaving, that’s when Faith did what she shouldn’t have done, she punched him several times quickly in his injured un bandaged arm.  The outer wound bled and while the stitches didn’t break they loosened, Faith stopped she started to cry, Craig didn’t talk he got out of the way opening the door for her to leave.  He grabbed the bottle of Johnny Walker Black walked to the sink and poured some of it over his arm.  It stung compounded with the throbbing from the punching he was in a world of pain.  Faith grabbed her head, “What did you expect me to do?”  The fire in his face began to cool and the pain in his arm dulled, he looked brefly to Faith his face was smug then he sat back down at the table he filled up a wine glass with whiskey.  Faith walked outside she paced in the backyard for fifteen minutes when Craig walked outside naked, “What are you doing?” He didn’t talk to her he walked dot where she cut down the trees she followed, he started to collect dried branches, she stood not far off he looked to her, “You made a mess” Faith started to collect dried branches, “I needed to work out my problems” Craig walked to the fire pit area making trips until there was enough wood collected to start a fire.  He brought a lighter with him he lit dried leaves and soon the branches caught fire.  Faith stood while Craig sat, she looked to him, “Loosing weight?”  Craig shrugged, “10 lbs out of anxiety” Craig patted the ground for Faith to sit she walked away from him toward the house while Craig sat by the fire.  She took off her clothes inside of the house walking back outside with a wine glass, Craig’s glass, and the bottle of whiskey she laid on her back slightly behind Craig she stared at the stars peeking through the clouds that passed quickly with the wind.  Faith was nearing three months pregnant a slight hint of pregnancy was noticeable.  With warm gusts of wind Craig sat in front of the fire he was done fighting he came to terms with divorcing Faith.  She nudged him with her foot he ignored her, “I hurt your feelings” Faith sat up she wrapped her arms around him.  “It’s more than that” He was quiet Faith grabbed his glass of whiskey she took a sip, “I’m tired of the struggle I need a woman that wants what I want” Faith didn’t let go of him.  “Is this going to be Love me love me love, and then No I don’t?” Craig lifted his arms to break her grip on him.Faith paused she was slightly drunk from whiskey and she was worn from battle, “Don’t put me on the spot” She let go of him, she laid down a moment later he laid on his uninjured side he laid his head on her stomach.  They were silent as the fire popped and excess moisture fizzed with the sap bubbling out of the ends of the wood that burned.  

 

****

 

Hinn had begun to make preparations.  It was not a time to be idle he felt safety in Isfahan Iran but he wanted finality to what Pascal Said had started.  He had spent the greater part of the day in a place called ‘the dark room’. It was a room without light full of his belongings including a small gym.  Within the familiarity with his surroundings he navigated through the small hall sized room, he lifted weights and then he meditated.  How could he find his way around the room without light or injury?  He was lost in thought through most of the night deep in meditation.  A red alarm began to buzz inside of the dark room.  That meant that there were intruders on Hinn’s property.  While Hinn Halim’s property was gated the exterior perimeter had a sensory field that was triggered by several vehicles approaching his property quickly.  Not wasting time, Hinn exited the dark room he traveled to his quarters, his canines and assistant were waiting for him.  A nearly wall sized television showed the camera’s with the intruders exiting the vehicles.  Changing quickly Hinn sheathed several daggers and orbs while his assistant Ishmael paced the room nervously.   Pride and anger made Hinn want to stay and fight.  According to his count there were 17 intruders he knew the odds but he did not fear.  Ishmael on the other hand fretted and paced, Hinn petted his canines one last time until he sent them to their death.  As the intruders entered the Halim premises Hinn sent the canines in their direction, Hinn and Ishmael exited the other direction toward the helicopter that Hinn arrived with.  The sound of dog barking and gun fire was heard before the helicopter began to fly away.  Ishmael placed a phone call with Isfahan police to inform them of the intruders.

 

****

 

The catapult was cranked back held by a spring mechanism.  Wearing a rubber suit and gas mask working in clockwork procession Frank Spuk heaved each bag into the holder of the catapult.  Percival remained seated in the caterpillar backhoe as Frank set up the catapult nearly twenty feet in front of him.  It seemed archaic resembling a spoon held back by ropes with a spring device held by a lever.  It was amusing for Percival to watch his friend wearing an outlandish yellow rubber suit and a gas mask.  But he had known Frank Spuk to be that kind of individual.  The section that they were in was labeled the dead zone, where the most intense flames raged.  None of the workers were allowed to enter the area due to the dangers involved.  After the backpacks were loaded into the catapult Frank stopped, he looked to Percival he raised up a thumb and in turn Percival did the same.  Frank rubbed his hands together exited with what he was about to do.  He grabbed the lever with both hands and he pulled back with all of his might.  The spring mechanism creaked with the slow pull of the lever, but when it was fully pulled back the catapult exploded with fast movement heaving forward projecting the backpacks with violent force.  As the catapult launched Frank stepped back in time as it projected, the spring did not stop as it should and the device snapped and cracked as it over launched into the dirt sending wood planks and shards flying around the area.  Frank ran like a soldier being shot at he turned around reaching the backhoe in time to see the first backpack land followed by the other two.  What Frank had failed to inform Percival was that in addition to the ordinances was Franks own concoction that made it more powerful.  The backpack bombs exploded showering in a small mushroom like cloud billowing outward sending a swoosh of air.  After the bombs were exploded there was a silence temporarily the fires almost appeared have been deprived of oxygen and where the backpack bombs landed there were craters that were once huge piles.  Percival rubbed his face, he felt like he had when he spent too much time in front of a fire at too close of range.  “Fuck” He said followed by laughing for a brief moment he felt better.  Frank Spuk took off his gloves and mask he clasped his hands together, “Wunderbar” he said slightly jumping. He jogged back to the catapult device lifting a few of its broken remains.  “Leave it there” Percival yelled.  Frank walked back to the backhoe he took off his protective suit and climbed up to sit in the cab of the backhoe with Percival, “What was that?” Percival asked Frank he ran his fingers through his sweat filled head, “Perhaps it might have been a slightly dirty bomb” Percival drove back to the business office.

 

****

 

It took nearly a week for Donna Lang to be declared the winner of the Mayoral election.  Stewart Blythe was not a graceful looser.  No, he did not concede defeat and as promised he had begun to run full page advertising in The Evening Reporter with a negative campaign against Donna Lang’s platform especially with the promise to bring a public sewer system to the forefront.  The inauguration was without hesitation as there wasn’t a mayor since the last one resigned.  Department head changes had begun to take place and city hall was buzzing with activity.  Amongst the shuffle of papers and people Jed Folues had made a brief appearance introducing himself to Mayor Lang’s secretary.  A transition had begun to take place with the new position with Dionysus Refined.  In accordance he bought himself a wardrobe of business suits, for a man that made home crafted beer and prided himself with being a woodsman as first wearing suits seemed odd.  There’s a saying that the clothes makes the man, to Jed it seemed outlandish but as he acclimated to his new position wearing a suit really did make a difference because he felt more formal.  “Can I help you” Mayor Lang’s secretary asked.  Jed read the hand written folded index card with the secretary’s name on it, “Danielle, can you please ask the mayor if she would be willing to speak with Jed Folues for a moment?”  Now the secretary didn’t seem to be very nice.  She was thin and smug, she wore bright red lipstick and her hair was dirty blonde.  Jed smiled because he knew that she wouldn’t like him, or pretty much anyone like him for that matter.  Good for Donna Jed thought, a good secretary should be a  bull when needed.  “Why should I do you a favor?” Jed stood still and Danielle the secretary stood up she stood several inches shorter than the 5’11 Jed Folues but she didn’t back down.  “I know you” Jed didn’t like the tone or the way that the secretary spoke to him with, “Excuse me” Danielle nodded her head, “Yeah that’s right!  Excuse yourself!”  Danielle sat back down she picked up the phone pressing a button to call the mayor she covered the lower portion of the phone as she whispered into the phone.  A moment later the door opened, Mayor Lang stood smiling.  Jed held a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a prisoners of Pompeii candle he placed the candle on the secretaries desk, “Thank you for the assistance” Danielle flicked her nose and pucked her lips followed by her holding a balled fist in one hand.Jed walked forward he held out a hand as he gave Mayor Lang the bottle of wine.  “You look so serious” Mayor Lang said as she took the bottle of wine from Jed Folues.  He stood at the entrance of the mayor’s office entrance, she waved him in but he didn’t budge, “Donna, I wanted to congratulate you on your win.  I’m pressed for time and I won’t be in the area for a couple of months.”  Donna Lang put down the bottle of wine she looked through the gap in Jed Folues arms noticing that her secretary was listening to their conversation.  She reached forward grabbing his hand pulling him inside of her office, she closed the door behind him.  “Now! Mr. Folues” she waited a moment letting the formality settle in.  She placed a hand on her desk, “When a person of authority invites you, you oblige them even if it’s not preferred.”  Jed walked to the side, “I’ll cut the clutter Mayor Lang, my boss was involved in something big and the need for my presence is vital to the growth of our business.”  Newly inaugurated Mayor Lang was aware of the incident, who couldn’t it was a prominent story in the news.  “And how is your boss doing?”  She asked  Jed tapped his fingers lightly against the surface of the glass cabinet that was yet to be be filled in her office, “He’s injured, but my fear is that he will try to seek vengeance himself” Mayor Lang laughed, “That would be foolish” Jed nodded in agreement but he needed to defend his new boss, “Or brave” Jed stood still, “He knows that” Jed walked to the front of Mayor Lang he grabbed her hands holding them in front of him, “I think that things happen for a reason” She looked him in the eyes she nodded, “I agree” Jed let go of one of her hands he tapped the top of it, “The next time that we meet we’ll be able to share stories of how power has changed us” he let go of Donna Langs hand he turned toward the door, “Jed” “Donna” he turned around, “Thank you!” 

 

****

 

The helicopter was up in the air as Ishmael and Hinn flew to one of his many smaller houses, this one was in Shiraz, Iran.  Watching the mansion camera’s on a lap top he watched the footage of his canines being exterminated by the invaders, though as he knew that they would his cannines put up a good fight, mauling two of the invaders before they were exterminated.  The gang of now fifteen rampaged through Hinn’s mansion firing rounds at the helicopter as it escaped from the mansion premises.  As the group of fifteen entered each room they stuck c4 to the walls of each room that they entered.  Hinn rubbed his temples he quaked with anger over all of the items that were contained within his mansion.  Quickly the invaders exited out of the back of the mansion and in moments Hinn watched Isfahan police drive through the gates of the mansion and as they approached the front it exploded.  Hinn cried with anger as the video camera’s went blank, “This has caused me so much money”  He closed his lap top.  For every action there is an equal reaction, that was a principal that in nature existed.  Hinn was not dealing with nature, he was ready to do the extra to make events favor him.

 

****

 

Freyja Sullivan received a phone call from Einar the head of her security team to inform her that Hinn and his assistant had gotten away however; he had sent her footage of his mansion being exploded.  She hung up the phone unsatisfied with the results.  Charles Bassett sat on the side of her this day was the final day of negotiations of selecting the locations for the last of the 100 franchised Charleys Chicken Family Restaurants.  With quickened approval several locations were ready to have ground broken.  At the present moment Freyja’s focus was taken away from the business venture.  Two weeks after the attempt on her daughter’s life she was still in the hospital though her conditions had improved to where she had begun to be able to be mobile.  She had to sleep on her side or prone position as her wound was still healing but she had begun with assistance to get out of bed.  She had no impairment with walking and the mobility helped to both aid with circulation and to brighten her spirits.  Presently Freyja could only think of one thing, Revenge!  

 

****

 

He needed something new, that was how business worked without becoming stale.  It was different this time and in a pattern of second occurrences something was off.  Since he had returned to Pattaya Thailand there was a change in the way that things were before.Though he had gotten paid Barley Mare did not feel like he was at home and the cadence of normality was not regular.  One night while he was sleeping something hit him like a power line, he felt that something rigid had encased him, there was a ringing in his ear and a metal taste in his mouth.  A few days later the buzzing was still there and so was the metal taste.  Ming Na thought that maybe he had caught a bug from the travel from America to Thailand or maybe he caught a virus from one of the many bugs that pestered their property, so that morning pest control had sprayed his property and a doctor had arrived at their house to perform a full body physical.  While the symptoms were atypical the doctor had concluded that Barley Mare had lyme disease.  No, Barley Mare shook his head he did not believe that he had lyme disease he knew his body.  There was a feeling like he was shot by a gun and it made him antsy.  That day he slept with his hands on both sides of his head crawled up in a ball, Ming Na wiped him with a warm wet sponge and sang him songs to calm him during the night.

 

****

 

Boney Hoggins had begun to think!  Now truth be told in the realm of deep thinking Boney Hoggins was not the at the forefront especially when it was time to come up with being creative.  In the past he and his wife Leona used to run the flea market and carnival circuits.  For some time they made a healthy profit and made many friends selling authentic Indian apparel.  He rubbed his overfull stomach and rubbed his handlebar mustache as he finished taking a leak in his yard, “Uh” he said.  Feeling better after his release he looked about his 63 acre property.  Yeah!  He and his wife were well off after winning the lottery but Poultry Provisions had taken on a life of its own that made their well offedness very stable.  Though the political election favored the other candidate, the one that he did promote got him free advertising though now he was left with the dilemma of aditional taxes on his new buildings.  As he turned to go to his house where Leona was waiting to be taken out for a night of entertainment his cell phone buzzed.  Pulling his phone out of his pocket he read the texts about what happened to both Shooter and Reg.  Reg had an appendectomy, Shooter had surgery on his toe and he also fractured his ankle, Boney put his phone in his pocket.  "Goddanged idots" He was angered with the added pressure from his already overworked body.  The past couple of months pushed him to the limits of his aging frame.  He'd never been fatter nor more overworked in all of his life.  The knowledge of the additional work that would be placed on him short term made Boney Fret.  Taking a few steps toward the house he felt a squeeze in his chest and a tightness in his face.  He took a few more steps forward before dropping to the ground, he tried to call out the name, “Leona” but he could not.  Looking out of the entrance to the house Leona held a bottle of bleach as she wanted to tell her husband to quit moping about.  She dropped the bleach and ran to his side, but it was too late.  


Submitted: October 21, 2020

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