Book Two “Mady’s Storm”
Book Two “Mady’s Storm”
I’m at an interesting point with writing right now
A bit of my writing history, for those of you that haven’t followed my blog since 2011 when I created it
First of all, my first dream was to be a Professional Baseball Player
A Pitcher to be more specific
I’ve mentioned this along the way
Gave that up because I lived with a single mom, in the middle of a remote canyon
And it just would have been tough to pull off
Then in 1977 I saw the Original Star Wars at the age of 8
And I wanted to be a Filmmaker from then on
A Director to be specific
Now at some point between the age of 11 and 13
I actually started to write a book called
(Which I actually started again from scratch in 2011/2012)
And when I showed it to my dad (Who I didn’t live with, but was visiting) he told me I was a Writer
I suggested that I instead pursue Screenplay Writing
They would not agree to this either
Fortunately this relationship ended in 1998
And in 1999, I finally attempted to pursue Film Making
“The Realm” (2000)
Now this mainly began with some experimental stuff, like the footage above
Which was basically my brother and I and Action Figures
Just rolling the camera with an Effect on that changed the way everything looked
And also helped to hide our hands, Lol
And the music is the Soundtrack from “Conan”
Being played out of a Music Box sitting near by
The reason the music sounds so good is that the Video Camera
Which I believe was a Sony…..
Had a very good Microphone built into it
“If Not Now…” (2002)
And then two years later, My First Short Film, “If Not Now…”
Now with this, there was Editing
But, I filmed it in an hour and a half due to my brothers’ time constraints
So some of it was kind of rough, because there weren’t enough takes to choose from
None the less, I got it into Film and Video Festival in New York
Which changed my life
Even so, after my Dad watched it with me (I invited him to go to New York with me)
He still continued to refer to me as a Writer
At the time, that kind of bothered me
Because I was a Filmmaker
But reflecting, I think there are two reasons for this
I do believe my Dad is actually an unrealized Writer
And thus that is his focus
And, I am in fact a Writer
In 2002, I also wrote my First Draft of my Screenplay “White Jade”
And a Play called “Stranger In The Dark”
And in 2003, I stepped away from Film Making
And began writing Screenplays
And in 2006, hired an Artist to convert the first few pages of “White Jade” into a Comic Book
But it wasn’t until 2011 that I finally decided to give Writing 100% of my focus
With the Creation of “The Written Word” Blog
Where you are now
And for a year and a half, I Wrote like crazy
Dark Rider – Season 1 (2011); The Dark Rider had set out that day to End His Own Life… But he did Not Succeed. Now with only the Company of a Mysterious White Owl, and an Elven Mercenary by the name of Largoth, he seeks out some Deeper Truth… In this First Season of Dark Rider.
Part One – Dark Rider
Part Two – Dark Rider – Return To Bas’adia
Part Three – Dark Rider – Dragon’s Claw Tavern
Part Four – Dark Rider – Corwick’s Wish
Part Five – Dark Rider – Ambush At Fallen Wood
Part Six – Dark Rider – Shores of Evalon
Part Seven – Dark Rider – Scarlet Bandit
Part Eight – Dark Rider – Enter the Drow (Dark Elves)
Part Nine – Dark Rider – Nownyhall
Part X – Dark Rider – Breached Alliance
Part XI – Dark Rider – Hunted
Part XII – Dark Rider – Certain Death
Part XIII – Dark Rider – Rumble at the Village of Mond
Part XIV – Dark Rider – Moving On… Rodomor
Part XV – Dark Rider – Heroes Calling
Part XVI – Dark Rider – Winter Come
Part XVII – Dark Rider – The Northern Realms
Part XVIII - Dark Rider – Fool of Thy Self
Part XIX – Dark Rider – Feeling The Heat
Part XX - Dark Rider – They Struck at Dawn
Part XXI – Dark Rider – Man Down
Part One – Champion of Wogtay
Part Two - Seasons Change
The Dark Rider and his comrades have parted, and each gone their own way… But an enemy of The Dark Rider, has not forgotten him…
PHOTO CREDIT – Dark Assassin
Part One – The Captive
Part Two – Blood Shall Fall
Part Three – Kin
Part Four - It Ends Here
Part Five – Back Into The Dark
Part Six – Vengeance Rising
Part 7 – Dark Intent
Part 8 – Wounded Heart
Part 9 – Retribution
Part X - Head In A Box
“26 Years of Mental Preparation… But For What… I think I’m About to Find Out”
Episode I – In The Dark
Episode II – Flashback
Episode III – Sleep Now
Episode IV – The 27th Year
Episode V – A Man’s Castle? Is His Castle
Episode VI – Sanctuary
Episode VII – Back In Black
Episode VIII – Drug Lord
Episode IX – Decisions
Episode X – The Black Dragon
Episode XI - Snuffed Out
Episode XII – Quiet Times
Episode XIII - Calm Before The Storm
Episode XIV – Loyalty
Episode XV – One Step Back
Episode XVI – Changes
Episode XVII – Debt
Episode XVII – Oh No You Didn’t
The Mind has begun Taking Down the Mutant Population on his own, with the Humanitarians Close on his Heels… And the World Police Legions are doing their best to Change His Mind… Yeah Right, like that’s going to happen.
The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume One – Feed Thy Enemies
The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Two – The 4th Breed
The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Three – Exile (Part 1)
The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Four – Exile (Part 2)
The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Five – Mutant Siege
The Mind Chronicles – Season 2 – Volume Six – Population Decrease
The Year is 2075… There are but some 200,000 People left alive on Post Apocalyptic Earth, after the “Great Collision” of 2039…
And some 500,000 or more Mutants…
A Mysterious Man known only as “The Mind” has arrived in a Mechanical Machine, in a Flash of Light…
No one knows from where he’s come… But the real question is, From “When” He’s Come…
In Season One of The Mind Chronicles.
The Mind Chronicles – Volume One - The Mercenary
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Two – Nothing Stays The Same
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Three – Old Blue Eyes
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Five – The Greater Need
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Six – Farahi
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Seven – Visitors
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Eight – Chillen With The Mind
The Mind Chronicles – Volume Ten – Target Practice
PICTURE CREDIT – Fantasy Blue Eye Glow
ill Conceived – (Nov-Dec, 2013)
Lights – (Nov-Dec, 2013)
Hope – Volume Thirteen (May-Nov, 2013)
Nine – Volume Twelve (March-April, 2013)
Beyond Truth – Volume Eleven (January-February, 2013)
Breathe Deep – Volume Ten (November-December, 2012)
Tranquil Light – Volume Nine (September-November, 2012)
Darkness – Volume Eight (July-September, 2012)
Bereavement – Volume Seven (June-July, 2012)
Shadows – Volume Six (May-June, 2012)
Taken Heart – Volume Five (March-May, 2012)
Tales of Old - Volume Four (March-Present, 2012)
Rain Shall Shine (Capture the Night) – Volume Three (Jan-March, 2012)
Winter, Lust, And Wonder – Volume One (Sep-Oct, 2011)
Dream Shift – Volume Two (Oct-Dec, 2011)
And My Novella, “I Died Once“
(Written 2011-2012 Currently Being Rewritten)
(Written In 2012, Currently Awaiting Editing)
And Current Kickstarter Novella “Mady’s Storm”
(Written At The End Of 2012, And Awaiting Editing)
Some of you may know some of what I showed, and some may not
But I am in a very interesting spot right now
Determining What’s Next For Me
I Want To Edit And Self Publish My Written Books
But What’s Next?
Do I Focus On Material That I’ve Already Written
Like Marketing My Screenplay “White Jade”
Or Do I Work On Whole New Projects?
I Know That I Am Happy With What I’ve Written So Far
And Though I Had To Step Away From Film Making
I Am Happy With My Short Film “If Not Now…”
This Year Feels Very Different For Me
And I Don’t Have A Definite Answer
But Hopefully All Of You Will Continue
To Join Me On My Journey
PICTURE CREDIT – Wind Up
“I Died Once” Book Trailer August, 2012
“White Jade” (Part 1) Comic Book Video October, 2012
“White Jade” (Part 2) Comic Book Video October, 2012
“Chess With Agatha” Book Trailer November, 2012
“Captain Fire 197″ Blog Series Promo Video March, 2014
There Are 17 Days Left On My “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project
I hope that some of you will join me in getting this book/novella off paper, and into print
I really do think that you will like it… Especially if you liked the first
If any of you are interested, check out the video on my Kickstarter Project
As well as the Rewards associated with contributions
Thanks for all of your support
23% there, hopefully we can do it
Novella One “I Died Once” Concludes… Novella Two “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project
The 13th Day
It was the thirteenth day after I had arrived in Africa. I remember it well, as I woke up screaming. “AHHHHHH! HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE!”
My father came crashing into my room and took me into his arms. I couldn’t control the tears. I didn’t even know a human body could cry that much. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
“It’s just a nightmare, Mady, I promise. No one is here,” he assured me. But I didn’t believe him, or rather, I couldn’t. “That’s it. No more sleeping out in this guest house. I’m moving you into one of the main house bedrooms,” he insisted.
“No, no. I’m okay,” I assured him. But I wasn’t. The truth was I had never been this shaken. It was like all the emotions of the last eight or so years of my life were all starting to flood to the surface.
“Come on,” he picked me up out of bed and carried me toward the house. It was pitch dark outside, but the sky was unbelievable. Ten million, zillion stars. By the time he got me in the house, the crying had switched to an occasional “Hhhhhehhh…. Hhhhehhh,” sniffling, shortness of breath thing. How humiliating.
He brought me to a beautiful room right next to his. “This is your room now. Tomorrow, you set it up however you like,” he told me.
“No, I couldn’t…” I tried to speak, but he interrupted.
“It’s yours. No more talking. Time to get some sleep.” With this he covered me up with a large, soft, white quilt. “I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be right back,” and he stepped out of the room.
I could hear thousands of crickets outside, or whatever they were. Africa was truly a beautiful place. I understood why he came here, but in truth, I never actually asked him why or how he ended up here.
He returned with the water in his hand and handed it to me. He then handed me a white pill. “Here, it will help you sleep.”
“NO!” I slapped it out of his hand. What am I nuts? He’s been nothing but nice to me.
He went and picked it up. “It’s not a drug, it’s an aspirin. I thought you might have a headache from all the crying.” He tossed it in the trash can and opened up the bottle he had in his pocket. He handed me another pill from the bottle. It said aspirin on it.
What a fool I am. I took it and started to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I…,” but he interrupted me again.
“They drugged the hell out of yah, didn’t they?”
I stared at him for a minute. “They tried. For the most part I was able to get rid of it, but on occasion they held me down.” This definitely upset him. He reached over and covered me with the blanket. “Is it okay if I stay up for a while? Watch the sun come up maybe?” I asked.
He smiled, “Of course. This place is enchanting. I’ll give you some space.” With this he stood up to leave.
“Father,” I spoke. This was the first time I had ever called him that. He turned back to me.
“What is it hun?”
“Uh, never mind.”
He smiled and left the room. I stared out the window. So many thoughts racing through my head. Too many, really. Fred would come for me. He’s surely figured out that I know he murdered my mother. I don’t want him to kill my father. I need to leave. I stood and went to the window, but I was in Africa. Where would I go?
A man in dark brown cowboy boots steps off the train. He drops a cigarette and stomps it out with his heel. His boots make their way to a man of information. “Sam Monroe?” his gravelly voice questions the man.
“Sam, a very good man, a very good man.”
“I need to know where he is. I’ve got money, lots of it”.
The man with information pauses for a bit. “How much if I take you to him?”
The man in the boots sits down a long case with the word ‘Colt’ on it. “Plenty.”
So, my father finally figured it was time that I saw a bit more of the country, which in an ‘American in Africa’ terms meant a safari. I thought perhaps we’d fly somewhere. As it turns out, I love to fly. Must be a family trait. But this would not be the case. Instead, we would be taking that old beast of a Jeep that he had originally brought me here in. So we got together a week or so worth of clothing and supplies and headed out.
I slept for the first few hours, as we left sometime after 3 a.m., and I’m definitely not a morning person. When I awoke, we were having some crazy African rains, the like I’ve never seen. Once the sky cleared, the colors were simply overwhelming. The sky had turned sort of a blood red and yellow blend. It was mind staggering. When you breathed in, the senses were simply amplified by the damp terrain. It was truly miraculous.
The lions, giraffes, and gazelles were amazing, as was all of the wildlife, but the most impressive thing about Africa was the vastness. The sheer magnitude of the space.
A stranger pays Sam’s estate a visit. “I’m looking for Sam Monroe. Can you tell me where to locate him?” he inquires.
“No Sir, I cannot,” replies the very nervous house man.
“Perhaps I can persuade you,” he says as he forces his way into the home.
BACK ON THE SAFARI
On the fourth day my father took me to an amazing mass of water, and as the African sunset fell, the waters looked darker and darker. As my father made a camp fire, and set up the tent, I sat out by the water for what seemed to be hours as millions of stars filled the sky. The stars in turn reflected upon the water. It was then that my mind shifted to some sort of dream state.
I was back at my mother’s estate. I was maybe three years old. The kitchen lady at the time had poured me some breakfast cereal, and one of those little plastic toys fell out of the box. I remember reaching my little hands out for it, “Mine!” The woman smiled and opened it for me. It was red?… or… blue?
Anyway, as she handed it to me, Fred walked in the room and smacked it out of her hand. “She doesn’t need that,” he said, as he got himself some juice.
Tears started to well up in my little eyes and it was like he sensed it, as he turned to look right at me. “Don’t even think about it, little princess, or by God, I will smack you.”
It was just then that my mother walked in. “Fred, why must you be so cruel to little Mady?” With this, Fred suddenly back handed my mother across the face, knocking her clear off her feet and to the floor. THUNK! I can still remember the sound of her hitting the floor.
“Don’t you ever talk to me like that, woman! You understand!”
My mother stayed down on the floor wiping blood off her mouth, and looked over to me. “Stay quiet now, Mady.”
And that’s what I did for the next twelve years, stayed quiet.
Suddenly, I was back in my body, in a full sweat, as my Father was putting a blanket over my shoulders. “Not hungry tonight, eh?”
I looked over at him. “He was a monster,” I said.
My father looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. “Who?” he asked.
“Fred,” was all I said.
“Oh, him. Yeah,” he replied, as he sat beside me.
“I always blamed mother for being with him…” I looked at him once more, “…but now I think, maybe she was afraid to leave.”
My father pondered this a bit. “Could be,” he replied.
When my father and I returned to his estate, we were both exhausted, emotionally and physically. All the bonding and revelations were becoming quite tiresome. And yet…
We each made our way to our individual bedrooms for further rest. Strangely, his dark skinned house man was not present when we arrived, and yet, it seemed to be his primary duty to greet my father and, or other visitors. Hmm.
Quickly my eyes grew heavy as I fell upon my bed. What an adventure this has all been. What a
life my father leads. I’ve started not to mind Africa so much. Not that I’ve had the presence of
mind to mind much of anything as of late. And so, I slept.
2 HOURS LATER
I woke up and a man in an all-white suit was standing in front of me holding a rifle. “It’s time for you to come home, Mady. Your father’s been very worried about you,” he said with a maniacal grin. I simply stopped breathing. I suppose passing out would be my only way out.
CLICK The sound of a gun cocking suddenly comes from the door. It was my father holding a revolver. “Step away from the girl,” he said softly.
“You don’t want to do this Mr. Monroe. I…” the stranger began, but was interrupted.
“Mady, step out,” my father told me, and
without a second thought, I jumped out of bed and did what my father told me. The stranger’s eyes followed me the whole way. When I reached the living room I heard my father call out to me, “FURTHER MADY!” and so I went out to the backyard and hid underneath my father’s plane.
“You’re going to regret this, Mr. Monroe. Do you know who I am?” said the stranger.
Two shots were all that I heard. Apparently, my father had found the house man tied up in his closet. This was all it took for him to realize someone had come for me. The man never stood a chance.
After that, my father and I lit a fire in the living room fireplace and sat before it. I curled up in a chair with a soft, white blanket, and he was on the couch, looking into the firelight. “What shall we do father? How will this ever end?” I asked softly.
“Oh, it will end,” he prodded at the fire with a metal poker as he spoke “It will surely end.” He went on to tell me that other men would come, but at some point Fred would stop sending hired guns and come himself. And on that day it would end.
Indeed, he was right. In the five weeks following that night, six attempts were made to take or kill me. Sometimes they’d come in sets of two, but none would prevail. My father killed them all, each time having me leave the house. I have no idea what he did with the bodies, I think he wanted it that way. Some sort of a desperate attempt to maintain any semblance of innocence inside me.
But I, like my father, knew what he was doing, and why it needed to be done. And so my soul was safe.
When the day finally came where my stepfather Fred at last stepped down on African soil, he never made it more than three miles from the train station. My father’s loyals made sure of that. My father preferred not to kill people he actually knew, as he was a hunter, not a killer. Besides, we were busy playing backgammon at home. Home, a word I had never known until now.
In three years, when my mother’s estate and all that entails becomes mine, I will simply sell it. That fine boy, Tommy Wilkens, and his family will receive a check in the amount of $200,000. Hopefully that will be enough to hold them over for a while, or perhaps get them a home of their own.
The rest of the money will merely sit in my savings, as I spend my days in Africa, with my father.
I miss my mother. I never thought I’d feel that way, but I do. It’s become quite clear to me why she loved my father. He is as steady as a mountain, as constant as the sunrise, and as loving as a winter storm, when there’s need for rain.
Let it rain I say…
Let it rain.
OTHER PUBLISHED WORKS BY JAMES MAHONEY:
Winter, Lust, And Wonder – Poetry (2012)
White Jade – Comic Book (2012)
The Written Word @ darkjade68.wordpress.com
Legends Undying @ thedarkglobe.wordpress.com
Dark’s Media Empire @ darksmediaempire.wordpress.com
White Jade Comic @ whitejadecomic.wordpress.com
E-mail – JadeBlue68@yahoo.com
Twitter – @DJWrittenWord
Novella One “I Died Once” Continues… Novella Two “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project
BLACK AND WHITE SEQUENCE
A young, dark haired girl, maybe three, plays with a beach ball by the pool of Mady’s mother’s estate. As she plays, she is distracted by the sound of fighting within her home. The ball becomes loose and bounces towards the pool. The little girl pursues it and grabs it just before it falls into the water. The fighting continues.
She turns toward the house where she sees a man and woman fighting in the living room of the home. The little girl takes a step backwards, and is in the pool. As she falls, she lets’ go of the ball, and so, sinks slowly to the bottom. She stares upward through the water, but does not breathe. Not one bubble. Suddenly, a man is in the pool and pulls her out.
“Mady!! Are you alright!!?” he says frantically. The woman stands behind him and watches.
ALL TURNS BLACK
“I can’t stay here, Scarlet. I must go,” are the last words she hears before…
I’m awake. I find myself lying inside some sort of tent. I ascertain that it must be night, as the tent walls glow a wobbling yellow, like fire light. I grabbed a sweater and stepped outside. My father, er, Sam, had started a campfire and appeared to be cooking something. His back was turned to me.
“Boy, you really passed out,” he said.
“Mmm,” I replied, as I approached the fire rubbing my eyes. He looked at me while cooking something on a stick.
“Bad dreams,” interesting that he wasn’t asking. He was simply stating it like a truth.
“Perhaps,” I replied. Much silence went by,
save the clank of the tin plate as he dished me up some local meat and greens. “Thank you.”
The sounds of the African night were, well, torrential to the senses. But to the darkened soul, what else would they be?
It was at this point that he started to interrogate me again, or rather, make conversation. “So, pool, last breath, anything?” This surprised me, only because of the dream I had just had.
“Was my mother’s name Scarlet?” I replied.
He simply sat there staring at me. “It was, yes. You didn’t know your mother’s name?”
“No,” I solemnly replied. “Fred insisted on calling her Mrs. Holden,” as that was, er, is, Fred’s last name. Frederich Walter Holden the 3rd. Argh. “And she insisted that I call her mother.”
“Well, yes, Scarlet Violet Monroe, er, Vanderbelle was her maiden name.”
“What a tremendous name,” I proclaimed.
“Yeah, well, with a great name came a lot of pressure from her parents and her grandmother, Edith Donday Vanderbelle.” With this he seemed to almost growl.
“I see. Before you ask me a third time about not breathing in the pool, you might consider talking to me about something trivial.”
“Trivial?” he replied.
“Yes, like, where I got these boots, or…” I rose to fetch a glass of water, but he handed one to me first. “Thanks. …or why I never wear my reading glasses, and instead, set a book on my desk, and use the telescope from Uncle Henry to read them, whilst I sit in the comfort of my bed.”
He stood. “I don’t do trivial.” With this he cleaned up and headed for a blanket he had laid out on the ground for himself. I simply watched. Well, no wonder he left my mother. If he doesn’t do trivial, then he couldn’t have possibly “done” her, as the whole of who she was, was trivial. I went to bed.
During our next days of traveling we didn’t speak all that much, but the sights and views of Africa were more than apt to sustain me. As my deep blue eyes stared outwardly, they seemed to widen, or at least it felt that way. Minutes became hours, hours became days, until at last we reached my father’s estate. I was starting to give up on referring to him as Sam, even in the sanctum of my own thoughts.
He seemed to have business with a dark skinned man that ran the place while he was gone, and so I adjourned to the room I was given, which was near a small lake. I seemed to be dragging a bit today, as my bag seemed quite heavy, and I knew that it was not.
Once inside, it was a very nice room and would more than do. It was at that point that I found myself in some sort of catatonic stagger making my way to the water’s edge, and then it happened. I collapsed, and lay in a flood of my own tears. Was it my mother’s death? Or sheer exhaustion from the journey. I knew not. What I did know was I wasn’t going to let my father find me this way, as I’m sure he, too, was feeling the effects of this ‘sudden’ daughter. And so, I somehow rose to my feet, and made my way to the main house.
He was inside a smoking room with a short drink of whiskey at his side. “Well hello…” with this he rose to his feet and set down his paper. “…caught a nap did yah.” This struck me as a curious thing to say, as we had just arrived, but then, as I looked at the small watch around my
wrist, I realized that I must have been lying by the water for some three hours and not realized it. I removed the watch and set it on the end table nearby, for I had no interest in time as of late. Time had stopped the moment I descended into my mother’s pool, and in truth, I had yet to have ascended.
He approached me with a smidgen of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s this on your face?” It was as if time slowed as he reached and wiped away a bit of dirt from the side of my face, as I had made a resting place of the ground by the water. I teared up. Now, I knew he didn’t know how to react to this, so instead he began to walk by me. I felt my heart sink, but then his hand took mine as he passed. “Come on, Mady, Tatenda has prepared us some food.” And so we went to supper.
“You Must Seek the Truth, it is Inherent in you
From This Truth Will Come Love
From this Love, You will Fly Free”
THE CHRONICLES OF MADY MONROE-
The next morning I was awakened by the light, oh so bright. An African day awaited me. Outside I could hear the loud rumblings of some sort of engine. To my surprise, as I drew the curtains back in my room, I could see a decent sized four engine prop plane. Sam, err, my father, was all garbed out in goggles and a pilot’s hat and jacket, and was headed towards my guest house. I quickly threw my dark hair into a ponytail, which is no easy task with my wavy hair, and tossed on some khakis and a white blowsy shirt.
He came in. “Good Morning Mady,” he said. I waved back in reply. “It’s time you saw a bit more of Africa, as well as my diamond mine.”
“Alright,” I replied, not really knowing what to think.
“Come on,” he waved me outside.
Before I knew it, we had taken flight, and I was in the air. My instinct was to close my eyes and stick my arm out the window, but I would have to settle for closing my eyes.
“So you really are a pilot,” I said.
He looked at me, “Yes.”
The plane was very loud, yet for some reason I didn’t mind its rumblings. I closed my eyes and just listened to the engines hum as we hit the sky.
“Look,” he said as he touched my arm.
I looked down upon the African plain and saw a whole flock of giraffes running, behind them a male lion in chase. I gasped. “Will he catch them?”
My father looked at me, “All he wants is one.”
It was beautiful to see, and yet, somehow, tragic. My eyes started to tear as we flew over. Wow, it seems as though everything makes me cry these days.
The sky in front of us was vast, filled with strips of distant clouds, surrounded by soft, misty blue skies.
I closed my eyes for most of the journey, as I didn’t need them to see. It became quite clear to me why I was here. The pains inside would do their best to keep hold, but they would not be victorious. Not here. Not now.
Soon we reached the site of the diamond mine, a huge hole in the side of a mountain. “There it is,” he said.
“Ah.” I replied. He then swung the plane over and around it, and headed off into a completely new direction. “We’re not landing?” I inquired.
“Nah,” he replied, a man of few words. The next half hour or so were filled with such sights. I can hardly put it to words. My insides filled with mysteries and questions that only the landscape could answer.
After a while, I found myself dosing off, and noting this, he turned back and headed towards his estate. Bleary eyed, I rolled my head towards him as I lay it against the seat. “So, what do yah think?” he asked.
“I tried to kill myself,” was my reply. With this his eyes widened.
“Well…” he managed. Why did I say that? What was I thinking? “…that is a thing,” he continued. A thing, yeah, okay. I turned and looked out the window. Suddenly, he put his hand on my shoulder, grasping it really, and so I returned my gaze to him, my blue eyes darkening.
He stared at me with his deep brown eyes and said “My god, I’m glad you didn’t succeed,” and with this, he was the one who teared up. All I could do was simply smile. Something I hadn’t done in a long, long, time.
Novella One “I Died Once” Continues… Novella Two “Mady’s Storm” Kickstarter Project
And Then He Came
And then he came…
On the eleventh day after my mother’s death an old pickup truck arrived in the driveway of my mother’s estate. An old man drove it, and in the passenger seat was a man in an old brown leather jacket wearing a hat pulled down over his face. When they got out of the truck, I noticed the passenger’s pants and boots were also very beaten and worn down.
Fred ran out to the driveway, arms flailing,
assuming they had taken a wrong turn, or
something. I took a bite out of my apple. This was getting good.
The man in the hat pointed at the back of the pickup truck, and the old man responded by taking out what appeared to be a wrapped rug, threw it over his shoulder, and headed towards the house.
At first, Fred tried to stop him, but then followed him in. This is when the man in the hat looked over my way and motioned for me to come quickly. Somehow, he knew I was behind the bush. What should I do? What could I do? Before I knew it, I was sprinting towards him. He quickly opened the passenger door, shuffled me to the passenger side floor, and shut the door.
Suddenly, I heard Fred’s voice as he and the driver returned to the truck, “Well, I certainly do
appreciate you delivering the rug.” It was the first time I had heard it since the night he killed my mother. Terror filled me, my heart started to beat
rapidly, and I began to sweat.
“Who did you say sent it?” Fred asked the driver of the truck.
“A man called Sam Monroe from Africa,” the old driver replied.
“Oh, okay, well thank you. Can I get you two gentlemen a drink?” Please say no, I thought to myself.
“Nope, we’ll be on our way,” said the man in the hat. He had a notably soothing voice, which seemed to calm me a bit. The huge knife on his belt didn’t hurt either.
“Very well, thanks again,” I heard Fred say, and we left.
The old man never looked down at me curled on the floor, as if the man in the hat had told him to expect a visitor. After a while, the man in the hat looked down at me. “You can come up now,” and so I hesitantly moved onto the seat between the two men.
“How did you know I was in the bushes?” I managed.
“In Africa you must always be watchful of things in the brush.”
“Yup, and that’s where we’re headed.” He then did the oddest thing. He stuck his hand out, “My names Sam, by the way. Sam Monroe.”
My Father From Africa?
That ride was very odd indeed. The rest of the way I didn’t say a word. When I sent that note to my father’s supposed address in Africa, I never for the life of me expected a reply, and certainly not like this.
Perhaps showing you the note I sent him might illuminate a few things.
Fred has killed mother and wrapped her in your living room rug.
Best fetch me at once, for he just took three close range shots at my bed with his revolver.
Fortunately, I was out in the pool, breathing my last breath.
No indeed, a response of any type was not what I expected. Yet, here he was sitting next to me, almost on top of me, really, as I was squished between him and the old man.
Finally, he spoke as he rolled a cigarette. “So what’s this you say about ‘breathing your last breath’?”
“Huh? Oh, the note. It’s nothing.”
He looked at me. “Nothing, huh? Doesn’t sound like nothing.” I didn’t reply, and instead went on looking straight ahead. “Oh well, maybe later then.”
“So you brought Fred a rug?” I’m not exactly sure why I asked that. Perhaps some part of me wanted to talk to him on a more intimate level, but instead said something trivial.
“Oh, yeah, you said he wrapped yer mum up in that African rug I had in the living room, so I thought I’d give him a new one.” With this he looked at me. “You know, as kind of a ‘I know what you did’ message to his subconscious.”
This surprised me. “Uh, isn’t that kind of dangerous? I mean, he’s a killer.”
With this he smiled. “Oh no, I’m the killer. You should see my library wall at home. Every hunt-worthy beast in Africa has found their head mounted there. No, old Fred I suspect, as I’ve always suspected, is just a money-hungry, greedy bastard, heh, and a sloppy murderer at that.”
Well, with this I had to agree with dad. Dad? Eww, don’t think I like that. I’ll just call him Sam.
A Diamond Mine
The next hand full of days, I couldn’t say how many, were full of trains, planes, boats, and automobiles, and at last, dirt. Oh, and sky, oceans, and animals. Yes, lots of animals. I had arrived in Africa. South Africa, to be specific. I dare not be more specific than that, or I might offend a local.
As Sam, my father as it were, handed a dark skinned man money, our very minimal bags were placed into a vehicle, and the two of us were off.
Apparently, Sam owned a small diamond mine with some other men; however, he spent no time there, and instead hunted and traveled the surrounding lands. I suppose his life was an adventure, I dare say. Nothing like my own had been. This was a sort of second life for me. Strange to think, if my mother hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be alive. But I dare not ponder too much on that.
Sam seemed a fairly simple man. One that, in his rustic way, soaked in everything around him. Perhaps that’s why on occasion he’d ask me personal questions. He probably figured he should know a bit about me if I, too, was to be sucked in.
“Tell me about your life, Mady. Did you have any hobbies, or pets, or…” with this he looked over at me “…girl things that you liked to do?”
Yikes, girl things. How appalling, and yet, I tried my best to be polite. “Not so much. Mother took away my paints, as she felt it distracted me from more sensible things like clothing, makeup, and schoolwork.”
“I see,” he replied.
“As far as pets, I wasn’t allowed any. As she put it, ‘What would be the point?”
“Aye, she wasn’t the most cozy of women, I’ll give you that,” he said, which kind of surprised me. Him discussing anything to do with her and him, that is.
With this, I mustered up some courage. “Did you ever love her?”
He didn’t reply, nor look my way for quite some time, until, “LOOK OUT!!” Suddenly, he hit the brakes and all seemed to slow down as he threw his great musket across the front of me and placed my hand on the wheel. I tucked my head towards him, and he took a shot. BLAM!! In one shot he took down what he called a white rhino. It fell to the ground with a THUMP! “That thing would have knocked this vehicle over!” he gasped, then looked at me. “Yes, I loved her.”