(Author’s note: Life is doing pretty well. Interviews happening, help to others being given, and with the exception of being clipped by a hit and run driver (no personal damage to body, a little to the back of my van), things are doing well. Here’s this week’s fictioneers!)
“You don’t understand me.”
“What do you mean?”
“This. We are standing just below our target’s hideout, and we’re arguing.”
Josh’s face wore blank.
“I just want to know, before we go in, that we’re on the same page.”
“Of course we’re on the same page. We’re going to axe this guy, then get out of the country.”
“Are you sure?”
Mandy just sighed.
“If you’re going to be addle-brained, I’ll do it myself and Leave you behind.”
“You wouldn’t do-”
(Author’s note: Currently working on longer fiction piece, hopefully for publication. It’s a good one, but I will still be making time for Fictioneers. Here’s today’s piece.)
The ambulances were splashing away from the parking lot of the movie theater.
Nearly a foot of water was in this section of the parking lot. An area with over a hundred guys walking around, dazed.
It was a special movie night, where pregnant moms got in for free with the purchase of a normal ticket and a concession box. What was not expected was the pain when the first mother walked out of the theater, followed by another mother.
Pretty soon, every mother’s water had broken. Over 100 mothers were taken to the hospital that night, after one of the worst rainstorms in ages.
It is still known to this day as the “Night of the Baby Flood”.
Author’s note: Hey everyone! I keep promising more stuff on the blog, but school and job hunting gets in the way. Once something comes along, there will be more posts. Otherwise, you get to enjoy Friday Fictioneers from me! My good blog-father, David Stewart, got the picture for this week, and I think it’s a beauty! Enjoy the story!
The rust on the gate was quick. Brand new last year, now tarnished.
Only one rainfall came that summer, but it was a blessing. A year’s worth of crops came in a month. It was incredible.
Then they came to the house. Claimed all sorts of charges, all sorts of lies. They said the rain didn’t want to come. I asked them how they knew the intent of the rain.
They didn’t tell me much, didn’t even allow me the chance of getting a lawyer.
Across the entirety of the port city of Stewartsport, it was said that when 5:15 came around, the only thing you could hear were the many whistles from each of the 20 terminals in the city. Like a choir opening a Sunday service with a loud start, the whistles blew simultaneously.
It was this signal that the day ended, the night began, and on a Friday night like this one, it would be one humdinger of a night.
Down at Terminal 10, Cha Yeong-Jin had just finished loading a skid of incandescent light bulbs. Affectionately known as CJ, he was someone who finished his job when he finished his job, not when the whistle blew. However, today, he was right on time and was able to leave quickly.
CJ grew up in South Korea, the son of a shipbuilder father. Growing up in the island town of Geoje, the seas were in his blood. However, he was also a traveller, and someone who wanted to see the world. Working as a stevedore, he worked in places like Luzon, Singapore, and Sydney before he ended up in Stewartsport. The longest he stayed was a couple of years, and he left only because he felt too comfortable.
He was in Stewartsport for only two months before this night. As he walked off the docks and out to his small truck, a hand landed on his shoulder. CJ immediately turned around and looked into the big mean eyes of his co-worker, Tarik “Evil Eye” Adadark. Eyes which immediately brightened up, and expressed relief and happiness.
“Ah, CJ. Isn’t it great that Friday night has come?” Tarik chuckled, slapping CJ on the back like an old pal. Which was to say that they were, as he and Tarik were friends since their time in Singapore, and travelled together on the same jobs.
“It is a great thing indeed. I just can’t wait to clean up and hit the town. Since it’s a three day weekend, I want to wake up tomorrow in an unfamiliar room,” CJ responded, his command of English impeccable for a kid who never had any academy training.
“Then I think I know the place to go. There’s a great place just off Chambers that has not only good quality drinks and good quality women. It may just be your lucky night!”
After an hour of cleaning up and getting things ready, CJ and Tarik were dressed up and on the way down to the bar on Chambers.
“You’re doing the blue jean thing, T?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit lucky tonight, too. At least you have the chance to not only catch a woman, but land a good business deal at the same time. Taking tips from Barney Stinson?” he responded, making reference to a popular character on a show that they watched constantly while there.
“Dress to impress, dress for success, do not settle for anything less,” CJ responded, smiling, “My dad taught me that. Probably explains why he had three wives.”
They went to a grill and had something to eat, then proceeded to the bar that Tarik referenced.
Since it was payday, they had a good amount of money on their persons. Knowing how rough some ports could be, there was always a second set of documents on their person just in case they were robbed. Three wallets were the usual with stevedores and longshoremen. CJ knew this, and patted the side of his knee, acknowledging to himself that he still had his most important wallet with him.
They passed by two beautiful women as they made their way to the bar. One was a tall, black haired Chinese woman who looked like she walked out of a fashion magazine, and the other was a striking redhead who seemed have features found in Irish women. CJ looked at the redhead and he instantly turned on the charm as they passed.
“Oh, come on baby! Take a hold of my hand! The fire is burning!” he called out, just after they passed. The redhead turned around and smiled. She gave him a wink, turned around, and kept walking. CJ cursed his current luck.
The bar on Chambers was called “Underworld”, and the owner/bartender was a tall wiry fellow named David. A former Israeli Defense Force soldier, David may have looked like a pencil, but he was able to kill a foe with two clicks of his fingers.
“Oy, Daveed!” Tarik called out.
“What’ll it be, Evil Eye? Did you bring the Korean with ya?”
“Right here, ya nut.” CJ responded.
“Glad to see ya! Care for some Rumple Mintz?”
“Not tonight! Get me a Glen and Ginger Ale, and another shot of Glen 12 Year.”
David acknowledged and made up the drinks for CJ. CJ, in return, gave him a hundred dollar bill and hold him to keep a tab on his drinks.
“Don’t worry about me, let’s just get you a woman tonight. “
Music and Fiction 