A to Z and Back Again - E is for Earnest

 

You are in a pitch black cave so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face. You stumble about, unable to find your bearings.  Before the lights went out, you saw a cavern, a meandering walkway with rocks littering the path, leading to another cave. You listen for a voice, a laugh, a we're only kidding jest, but hear nothing.  Where are you now? Are you alone? Or are there other people lost in the dark same as you. 

You stand in place and wait.  Should you turn around and seek the light?  You remember a door, but you don't have any idea where it is anymore. You were shoved through a door into the cavern before the door shut, blocking out the light, sight, sound. What is on the other other side of the cavern? Where are you going? Do you know? 

They said they were giving you a test to see, ha ha, your full potential. What did any of this have to do with being a team player or a lone wolf. What did any of this have to do with being management material?  What were they expecting? For you to stand there silently and wait, or yell for help; stumble and fall, or march through the dark, like a stupid idiot, going in circles. 

You hate tests. Always had. They never revealed the true you. Didn't test your real knowledge, just the fake, the regurgitated lessons of the past.  Whether you made it through or not, you decided you were through; with her, with them, with the whole endeavor. It wasn't worth it.  

Do you dare move into the dark?  Stumble about in the dark, hands out stretched, eyes squinched tight against the heavy weight.  You breath deep and take a step, your foot sliding an inch, then another, until you reach the zenith of your stride.  You feel like Frankenstein, stiff legged, stiff armed, lurching forward in the dark.  You continue to shuffle forward, feeling your way with your feet and your hands.  Your whole body aware, seeking the path, seeking the way forward.  

You slide your feet forward again, a little faster this time, one after another. How far have you gone? How long has it been?

Silence descends and nothing reaches your ears except for the slide of your shoes. Nothing in the cave except you and the dark. The whoosh of your shoe as it swings in an arc, testing out the width of the trail. You swing your arms to no avail.

The split second of light at the beginning, a flash of the trail, not concrete, but gravel leading off into the distance remains in your mind's eye.  You blink open your eyes and wait for them to adjust, imagining people in the dark; observing, listening, taking notes, grading your progress.  Damn them.

Another foot forward, the rasp of your own breath, another inch.  Are you getting closer? How far have you gone?  Inch by inch, breath by breath, how much time has passed?

Your foot encounters something in the dark, in the path.  You reach out and run your hands over the object.  A chair? What would happen if you sat down? If you waited, if you rested? Would you fail? You grip the chair and fling it as hard as you can forward and listen to it clatter and slither along the trail, until it comes to a stop. Lost in the dark.   

An hour passed, you think, before you encounter another obstacle in your path. The damn chair again, upright, and waiting for you to sit down and rest. How the Hell did they do that? 

You huff out a laugh which echoes around you.  You hoot like an owl and listen as echolocation tell you you're in the middle of a chamber, the sound circling around you. You throw the chair, harder this time, and are rewarded with a thump as it lands against a wall. 

Tempted to rush forward, you restrain yourself.  Whoosh, slide, step, whoosh slide, and step, again and again until you feel the brush of air flow past you. A bat? A bird? A fan? Or maybe a door opening. 

You listen, hearing nothing, the oppressive dark unrelenting, your legs quivering from fatigue, and push forward until your hands hit a hard rock wall right in front of you.  You lean forward and rest your head against the rocks, resting for just one moment.  Is this the end or another chair, another barrier?

You run your hands over the wall searching for a doorknob, a latch, a hole, even a button to push. What feels like  interminable minutes pass before you find an outline of a square.  

You push it and wait and wait and wait and wait. 

You swear and punch the damn wall, slide down to sit. For just a minute. You are so damned tire, but you need a minute to rest, to regroup. It's another obstacle, no more than that. 

You climb to your feet and resume running your hands along the rocky wall. Five feet to the left and find large rocks blocking the way.  Back to the middle, then five feet more to the right.  You encounter a blank spot. You press forward through an opening, hands sliding against the wall, foot carving an arc, until you hit wood.  A door. An actual door with a handle.  You turn the knob and the door squeaks open to a sea of black.   

Sighing, you power onward and find, another chair. This time you sit and wait, close your eyes, and listen.

A murmur of voices, laughter, music, comes from your right, in the distance.  Are the jackasses having a party while they wait?  

You open your eyes and see a tiny light far, far away. A figment of your imagination, or the real deal. An open door? An exit? The end?

You rise and trusting nothing else will block your past, you stride with confidence forward into the light.  

ABC Stories: Decisions, Decisions!

 

Decisions, decisions!  Emily, a slight woman at 5 foot 2, swept the kitchen while she thought about her next steps. Forward or backward, either way would be momentous, out of her normal reality.  Given that she didn't want to change anything, she fretted and fumed, mad at the world at large. How was the responsibility hers? Instead of her sisters, even her brother.  Just the other day, Emily had told her mother to butt out, to leave her alone, and that it wasn't any of her business.   

Knocking the dust pan on top of the waste can, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Little did Emily realize that her day was about to get worse. 

Moving on to the living room to vacuum, she discovered all her books had decided to rearrange themselves. Not again.  Ophelia mentioned yesterday a strange memo had been left on top of her desk. "Prepare to heed the word of the Iam a Lama Ding tree." along with a riddle.   Quite the conundrum and they'd talked long into the night.  Riddles! Something Emily also despised.  They took up way too much of her time, but that's how the damned books communicated.  Underneath her desk she found a piece of paper. Viewing it, she saw three sentences.  

"Well, that's dramatic," she said as she read, "Thanks a lot and suitcase in hand you head to the station." 

X's and O's lined the bottom of the sheet, symbols for hugs and kisses. 

Yet another mystery trip and she wondered why she bothered coming home.

Zapping the lights off, she zipped out the door, suitcase in hand, having  no idea what had been packed, climbed into the car and drove until she found the train station where she found a ticket waiting, no destination indicated which meant they were sending her on a wild goose chase. 

I changed the rules this time and made it into a flash fiction story rather than continue through back to D.  

ABC Stories: Caution Ahead

 

Caution Ahead, the sign said, via a handwritten note tacked to a folding billboard, and placed in the center of the road to prevent passage. Dorothy peered into the distance and couldn't see any cars, any police or ambulances, nor were the roads wet or muddy.  Earlier in the day, streams of cars had passed her on the Western highway, all rushing to get to their destinations. Funny how all the vehicles, the people, even towns seemed to have disappeared into the ether, the farther she went and gave her the feeling she'd entered the twilight zone.   

Get a grip, she told herself, and grasped the wheel tight, trying not to hyperventilate and give in to her weird imagination.  How did she get here, she wondered, the trip a blur in her mind, the sign filling her with dread, and the unknown danger made her want to turn around and flee the other direction. Indecision plagued her at the strangest times, a weird fugue blurring her thoughts.  Just yesterday she hadn't been able to make the decision whether to put on the red or blue socks, and it had plagued her for the rest of the day.  

Kneading her knuckles against the steering wheel, she deliberated.  Leave, turn around and go home despite the fact it would take several more hours. Meander forth and follow the lonely road that now looked spooky, unfriendly, and foreboding all because of one small sign. No, she couldn't do it.  Obsessing about it wouldn't help either. Pretending she wasn't scared because she had no idea where the hell she was going in the first place, would only stress her out more. Quickly, before she changed her mind again, she turned the car around which wasn't an easy task on the narrow lane.  Run away from danger, her mother always said, whilst Kiki would say go towards it and enjoy the adventure. 

Since yesterday she'd had the desire to go some where, but she couldn't remember where she'd been going, so she bolted back towards the onramp which should have only taken her minutes, but seemed like hours. Turning left, she did the inexplicable and took the service road beside the highway, zipping past fields of corn and wheat with stalks higher than the car and turned the road into a shadowy tunnel.

Until she came to a bridge and drove underneath it, coming out of the shadows into the bright sunlight, and wondered where she was since she no longer could see the freeway or hear the cars passing by. Visions of getting t-boned made her stomp down on the gas and she speed through the intersection, up and down hilly roads and through the forest until she came upon a quaint little shopping center full of cars in the middle of nowhere. 

What is this, where is this? Xylophone music greeted her when she opened her car door. Yearning for a fat, greasy, crunchy taco, she climbed out of the car and ran into a little country store. Zoned out by the drive and hunger, it took her a few minutes to realize no one was in the store, including a cashier.

Yesterday's weirdness had faded to today's bizarre adventures, and she felt like she was out of time, out of place, out of touch with the world.  X's stamped in place of prices for all the products on the shelves confused her even more.  What was she supposed to do, negotiate, which she couldn't do because no one was there.

Various scenes passed through her head of an apocalypse, a disaster, even zombies. Up on the wall, the hands of the clock clicked off the seconds, but she realized she couldn't hear the ticking, nor the music anymore. Troubled, she walked the entire store, calling out hello but received no answers. Suspicious and more than a little scared, she took a breath and looked in the backroom, but didn't see anybody.  

Right or wrong, she was hungry and returned to the main part of the store, filled a small basket with snacks and taco ingredients because she was starving, and dropped some cash at the front counter.  Quick and quiet, spooked by the lack of life, she exited the store.  Perhaps they were next door and she wondered down the sidewalk looking in all the empty stores.  

Oh boy, I'm living in the twilight zone or the resurrection or what was the thing from the comic movies, the snap.  No one left, except for her. Marching to her car, she locked herself inside and pulled out her cell phone.  Looked through the contacts list and called her mom, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she waiting through several rings. 

Kiki answered and said, "Hope my dear, I hear you are hopelessly lost." 

Jealousy rocked her at the sound of the woman who'd taken her place in her mom's life and it took a moment for her words to sink in and she wondered who told Kiki she was lost unless she was tracking her phone.  

"I need to talk to mom," Hope demanded and wondered again for the millionth time why her mom had allowed Kiki, heck why had she allowed it, and let the woman hold sway over all mom's decisions, her calls, her life. 

"Have you come to your senses yet or shall I delay you even more?" 

Gasping, Hope realized Kiki had somehow cursed her because she'd lost track of the days and had no idea how she'd managed it and spoke the counter spelled her mother had taught her when she was a little girl.  

"Fiddle dee dee, five makes three, and ten makes two, may caution be your guide," she murmured.  

Energy sparked through her body, flashing from her head to her toes, and her eyes fuzzed out for a second, then cleared.   Dumbfounded she stared as the people everywhere, bustling to and from their cars, the stores. Cautious now, she knew she had to play along with Kiki, if she was going to save her mother and lied through her teeth when she said, "Blessing on you, Miss Kiki," and hung up on the woman, ready to end the witch as soon as possible.

Rules for the road: Alphabet stories start and end with the letter chosen and each sentence has to begin with the next letter of the alphabet. 

ABC Stories: Bandit

Bandits surprised Corey and Michelle Biannaib when they walked through the dark parking lot behind the theatre, empty now, except for them.  Caught off guard, Corey hesitated, then dropped Michelle’s hand and stepped in front of her.  Defense, he thought, her safety is more important than his. Even though it’d been years since his old karate days, muscle memory kicked in. 

“For what it’s worth, I have a black belt," Corey said, his voice rising, making the statement sound more like a question and gave them the appearance of an ineffectual dork.

“Good for you," the taller one with a diamond studded eye patch said, “but I have a gun so if you want to play rock, paper, scissors.  How about you turn over your wallet, purse, the diamonds, and you can go your way.”

“I’d do what he says honey, this stuff isn’t worth fighting over,” Michelle said as she swept her hand down his back and stuck a small sheathed knife inside his belt.

“Jack, I’d listened to your lady,” the shorter man said with a smirk as he waved what looked like a kid’s toy pistol at Corey who knew looks could be deceiving however and he he felt Michelle’s hand grip his arm for balance. Kicked her shoes off, he thought, the stiletto high heels she'd been tottering on, sharper than the little knife she'd passed him. 

Lights, bright as hell, lit up the night and they took advantage of the distraction. Michelle blasted an ear-piercing whistle and simultaneously threw her steel toed heels at the pirate bandit while Corey pulled the little knife and sent it whistling in the direction of the little guy, before they dashed into the little alley running between the buildings. 

“Nice move, dear,” Corey whispered, scuttling through the dark passageway, weaving past dumpsters and boxes, pulling Michelle in his wake as they tried to keep to the shadows and listen at the same time for the voices or footsteps of the bandits. Only thing he could hear was laughter bouncing off the bricks and traffic swooshing past the end of the alley in the distance. 

"Pooh, those were my favorite pair of Jimmy Choo's; do you think we can get them back""

"Queen," Corey looked behind them, more concerned about their lives than a pair of high heel shoes, and said,  "If you're quick and quiet, but you have a choice between getting your head shot off or climbing that fence." 

"Right and how do you expect me to do that barefoot?" 

"Stand on that box and I'll boost you up."

Tempted still to go back and see if the men were gone, Michelle squeaked as Corey gripped her around the waist and lifted her as high as he could.

"Up you go," he said, adrenaline giving him strength enough to heft her halfway and when she grasped the fence, he planted his hands under her bottom and pushed.   Victory he thought when she reached the top, steadied herself and reached down a hand to help him up. 

"Wait, and watch," Corey said with one last glance behind and confident his wife had his back, and they wouldn't be able to see him in the dark of the alley, he stepped on the box, and climbed, Xanth crossed his mind for some odd reason, an obscure fantasy novel he'd read.  Years and years ago when he was a teenager in fact, so why would it pop into his head now?  Zig zagging up the fence, expecting to be shot in the back at any moment, he made it to the top in one piece.  

Zeal made him grab Michelle, fold her into his arms and she squeaked as they tumbled over the side together, thankfully landing on something soft, which exploded with a horrible stench of something he couldn't identify and really didn't want to know. Yellow blinking lights stippled the walls, making it look like the bars of a jail cell. 

Xylophone music tinkled from one of the windows nearby as they both struggled to their feet.  

"What are you going out there," a high pitched little voice said from above and they looked up to see a red headed girl, probably about 4, frowning at them through a security screen. 

"Vacating the premises as quickly as we can," Corey said, brushing off his clothes, wondering how they'd gotten into this mess.

"Uh oh, are you in trouble," the little girl asked.

"Totally," Corey murmured to himself as Michelle smiled with a parent's patience and said, "Ignore him dear, and shut your window and lock it.  Stranger danger, remember.  Run along, and do what you're told," she said with a whoosh of her hands, expecting the child to do whatever she said. 

"Quickly now." 

"Please," the little girl mumbled and when Michelle planted her hands on her hips and let out a soft growl, the youngster disappeared from sight, screaming mommy, mommy, stranger danger, stranger danger."

"Okay, let's get out of here before we're arrested for peeping toms or something worse," Corey said and marched down the alley, past reeking garbage bins until they reached the end and peaked left, then right at the street. Not a soul was about at this time, except for a vagrant huddled and fast asleep in the doorway to a shoe store, and Corey remembered why George had cautioned them about this area on Sundays.

Memories surged, reminding of his past life and all the dangers in the streets of Dalton. Life on the streets hadn't been pleasant. Kids, too young to be out on their own, some his age, had taught him how to survive.  Justice on the streets quick and mean. Independence fought and paid for. 

He shoved the memories back, packed them away again in the hidden box in his mind, not in the mood to dwell on the past when he'd worked so hard to make something of himself. 

"Go," Corey said when he saw the coast was clear. Fortune followed when they found a wayward cab parked a couple blocks away across the street from a bar.  Ethan's, a blues joint, with lights, music, and people spilling out of the doorway, fostered a safe haven for them to relax.  Diving into the back seat of the cab, he ordered the driver to take them home. Corey and Michelle rested shoulder to shoulder, holding hands as adrenaline faded, leaving him spent. 

"Baby," Michelle said, learning her head against Corey's shoulder, aching all over, "Next time, let's listen to George so we don't have to do that again, at least anytime soon."

Rules for the road: Alphabet stories start and end with the letter chosen and each sentence begins with the next letter of the alphabet. 

Alphabet Stories: A New Life

 

Around the time she meant to leave, a godawful noise pealed through the house. Buzzing and beeping, not sounding orchestral at all, the front door bell, broken again, faded away after a minute or two. Cindy threw on her coat, a shield against whoever had decided to intrude, before she scurried to the front door. Daring to look through the peep hole, she hoped they wouldn't see her shadow, and glimpsed a man dressed up in an expensive suit.  Evan.  For pity's sake, why had he chosen this moment to show up on her doorstep.  Glad she'd put on her fiery red coat, she grabbed her purse from the hall table and pulled open the door. 

"Hey," she said, with a jerk of her head as if surprised, as if she hadn't known it was him on the other side of the door. Irrationally irritated, she waited for Evan to speak, to announce in one of his impervious ways why he'd come to see her today of all days.

"Just wait," he said, holding up his hand, fingers spread wide, aware she was mad. "Kindly hear me out.  Let me explain." 

"Move please," Cindy said as she stepped forward to walk out the door, "I'm late for an appointment."

"Not without me."

"Oh!  Patience had never been my long suit and I don't have time to explain anything or listen to your reasons." 

Quick on the draw, ready to fight him, and go it alone, Evan realized, and it'd taken him a few days to come around and he needed to make her believe he wanted to be in it for the long haul.

"Reasons," He repeated with eyebrows rising, wondering if he'd made the right decision, if this thing between them would really work when she was so pissed with him. 

"Surely you jest,"

"Tell me how long?" Unzipping her overcoat before she had a chance to react, he pulled it open to reveal the baby bump.  Visions of cribs and diapers and no more sleeping at night filled his head, but also images of she and him, curled up with the baby, with each other, creating a life together. 

"Wait, how did you know?" 

"X-ray vision, my darling," Evan said as he gripped her the lapels of her bulky overcoat, the one she thought would hide the changes in her body from him.  "You aren't going anywhere until we have had time to talk. Zero is the number of the day and the number of chances you have to do this without me because I love you." 

"Zero, seriously.  You show up out of the blue and expect me to just say yeah, no problem, let's go, when all you've ever said is no, no, no."

"X's, so many x's checked the boxes on my pro list, and helped me realized I want to spend my life with you, even if there wasn't a life we created growing inside of you."

"When did you decide that because it sure is news to me after you declared, very loudly I might add, that this thing between you and me could never be."

Visions of being alone filled her mind again and she knew she could do it, but did she want to do it along. Unfair, though it may be, Cindy had to know how he really felt.

"Truthfully," Evan said, running a hand down her cheek, "I was scared, of my emotions, of yours, and everything it entailed."

"Since when have you ever felt anything for anybody other than yourself," Cindy said, her hormones getting the best of her, making her want to fight with the one person she loved the most. 

Running his hands down her shoulders to her hands, he gripped her fingers. Quietly he gazed at her, thoughtful and sighed. Pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her.

"Over and over again, I have tried, and I seem to be have been doing it all wrong, saying it all wrong.  Never have I ever felt this way and I've royally messed it up, but I hope you'll give me a second chance. 

Maybe she had been too hard on him, pushed too hard and she ordered herself to make the effort as she pushed back to gaze up at his face, noticing now the lines, the dark shadows under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days. Listened too little because of the emotions ruling her body. 

"Kiss me," she said, needing to know how he really felt because he couldn't hide himself when they touched. Just as they kissed, the baby kicked and he reared back, astonishment and joy on his face. 

"Incredible." He knelt down, laid his head against her swollen belly, pressed a tender kiss upon the spot where the baby kicked. 

Good gravy, she was a goner she thought as her heart melted. From the very start, she'd known there would be something about the man that would link the two of them forever. 

"Evan," She said, stroking a hand over his hair, so sure at that moment, without a doubt, he'd be a good father, a good husband.

Darn hormones, she thought, as tears rolled down her cheeks.  Calmer now, she pulled him to his feet and lead him into the apartment.  

"Be with me," she said.

"Always," Evan replied as he picked her up, and carried her up the stairs to bed, the appointment forgotten by both of them.