#FridayFlash: The Dragon in the Woodshed


#FridayFlash: The Dragon in the Woodshed
©2012 D. Paul Angel
817 Words


The morning started cold with a wet, icy fog.  The wood had been delivered and was in a decent sized pile just outside the fence.  I still had to move the wood already in the shed before I get the new wood in, but my Dad's call had made my tasks seem pointless.  I knew I only had today before the rain started again, but all I wanted to do was crawl back under the covers, cling to Kathy, and cry some more.

Instead, I was outside, bundled up against a chill I had so rarely felt before, moving pieces of wood with the enthusiasm of an automaton.  I moved one of the last pieces and saw a flick of movement out of the corner of my eye.  I was used to seeing the odd newt or snake, but this seemed more colorful than those.  I lifted one of the logs and saw a Dragon.

People may think that Chinese Dragons are highly caricatured, but, I can honestly tell you they are not.  Photo-realistic was the first word that came to my mind, truth be told.  He did not flinch even a touch now that he was uncovered, but simply stared me in the eye; bidding me to speak.

"Hello," I said, proud of myself for not pointing out that he was a Dragon.

"I seek asylum," he said in a deep, resonant voice that did not match his foot long body.

"From what? Who?" I muttered, suddenly very confused and feeling the enormity of talking to a Chinese Dragon in my woodshed.

"From the year, of course."

I suddenly realized what he meant by that and that he wasn't just a dragon so much as the dragon!  My earlier confusion was now whisked away in a dreamlike bewilderment as I wrangled with my second new reality of the day.  "What happens if you stay?"

"Well," he said, lifting his chin up and looking at me even more intensely as slow coils of smoke wisped out of his nostrils, "Your Mom won't die."

"We don't know she's going to die!" I screamed far louder than needed.  I was worried Kathy might've heard before remembering she'd run to the store earlier.

"Of course you do," he said, "Why else would your Dad be crying and also tell you that coming in a couple weeks might not be soon enough?"

Without knowing how I was sitting in front of him, the strength in my legs  just simply gave.  "How do you know that?" I asked knowing full well the answer.

"I know everything that is to happen to everyone.  Every twelve years I come through and the World is that much worse.

"Which is why I seek asylum.  I stay here.  The calendar runs forward and the Snake arrives.  He doesn't care what happens to anyone.  I honestly think he enjoys it.  So.  What's your answer?  Another year with your Mom?"

"But, if nothing changes she'll still be suffering?"

"You have to be alive to suffer."

"And what about the good things?  Won't good things happen?" I searched my mind, trying to find some known goodness that was just ahead that I could point to.  "What about Alyssia getting her cat next week?"

"She'll get her cat, just not for another year."

"But, how would that even work?" I was mentally spent already and confronting a seemingly endless number of paradoxes was beyond me.

"What is, will stay. There will be no change except the length of days.  It would be beyond your understanding even if you weren't emotionally crippled.

"Right now? I wouldn't even bother."

"I just-"

"And your poor Dad. He cried just telling you the news.  You wouldn't spare him any further pain?  How often have you heard him cry?"

"Never," I answered truthfully.

"OK, after the year, then what?  She dies when The Snake shows up?"

"Maybe.  Maybe not."  The Dragon moved back and forth a bit considering.  "Say there's a one in a million chance she lives.  Slim, but still better than none in a million, right?

"And, of course, there's Kathy."

"What about Kathy?" I asked horrified anew.

"Well, she finds out about you and Tina.  I know divorce doesn't happen in my year.  But..." the Dragon trailed off before lifting one of his talons to aloofly inspect it.

"There's nothing between me and Tina!" I shrieked.  Again, I was soon relieved to remember that Kathy was gone and would not have heard my sudden outburst.

"No, but you want there to be.  Look, Seth, you have a choice. This year is either going to suck for you and everyone you love, or you let it percolate and hope it gets better.

"Won't get better.  Might, possibly get better.  Those are the options that you, and only you get."  His eyes beckoned mine with a deep, piercing stare, "So, what's it going be?"

#FridayFlash: Protocol

Protocol

D. Paul Angel

© 2011

1,000 Words

The red Eye, surrounded by darkness, stared into Simmons'; boring fear into his being. He could feel a score of hands pressing him against the smooth side of the asteroid, his body stiff against the cold, solid rock. Chains pulled his limbs together as the asteroid started tumbling through space with his body bound. He screamed the air from his lungs, hearing only the slightest of whispers from what little air filled his mouth before leeching into the void...

"Lt Simmons?" A soft woman's voice called across the void, "You are waking from Cryo. Nothing you are seeing or feeling right now is real. Please try to breathe normally as we continue to wake you."

Some hours later, the memories of his wake terror finally recycled back into his subconscious' keep of nightmares, Lt. Simmons walked up to the Hyacinth's Bridge.

"Hello Lt. Simmons. Are you feeling better?" The same voice that pierced the veil of his dream asked.

"Yes Nina, I'm fine. How's things?" Simmons asked even as he noted that Nina's, "eye," was red instead of the usual green or occasion yellow.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant, but it is a problem that requires human intervention."

"Of course Nina. Proceed." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples while floating just before her panel.

"There was a micrometeorite hit three watches ago."

"What?" Simmons snapping his eyes open, suddenly alert, "What happened to the watches?"

"They did not follow protocol."

Simmons reined in his anger at the preceding Watches. Each 36 hour watch came at the end of 99 days of Cryo Sleep, and the Cryo-Terrors that came with waking. Although an easy enough assignment on paper, it was a far more demanding reality.

"OK fine. Forget the watches for now. What's the status?"

"The micrometeorite damage has been repaired to the fullest extent possible. However, there is an 8.734% deficiency in Oxygen that we will not be able to replace."

"So...."

"Our current compliment is three in excess of our current resources."

Simmons did the rough math in his head, "Don't you mean six?"

"No Lt. Simmons. Each of the last three watches removed themselves through the airlock rather than follow protocol."

"Protocol!" he snorted, "Taking the six most recent sleepers and dumping them into space where they'll die without waking."

"Correct. I could not convince them of the time constraints, nor how the change on watch schedule would need to be adjusted."

"Watch schedule? Godammit Nina you know the main reason for the watches is that Cryo-Terror causes madness if you sleep much longer than 100, 120 days! That's the only reason we wake up! Hell it's why you wake us up alone! So we don't have to look each other in the eye!"

"And yet, Lt. Simmons," Nina continued without inflection, making it worse, "You are now required, on your watch, to take action to save sixty of your colleagues."

"By killing three more of them. Right. So how much time do I have before I have to add a fourth to Protocol?"

"Seven hours at the most."

"And to be safe?"

"No more than three hours."

Simmons gut clenched. He wanted to throw up, to runaway, to throw himself out of the airlock like his predecessors; but none of that would help. Because of how debilitating the Cryo-Terrors were, the sleep pattern could not just be changed. Regardless of how quickly he left the airlock, the next watch, Ruiz, couldn't stand any sooner. He hit the metal table in front of him hard enough to leave slight dent. The pain in his hand focused his frustrations back to reality. He'd have to kill two of his colleagues. He already knew he'd be the third.

"OK Nina, who drew the short straws?"

"Conner, Jeremiah; Smith, KarenAnn; and Madrigal, Eduardo."

"Jesus," Simmons said aloud to himself, "why couldn't it be an asshole like Jenkins or Hoover?"

"I cannot tell you that, Lt. Simmons. Protocol dictates you remove the three most recent sleeps," Nina replied, taking his question literally. After a few seconds of thought he muted her and got to work.

With Jenkin's body now resting awkwardly next to Hoover's in the airlock, his grisly work was nearly complete. After writing a letter to Ruiz, she was good people and deserved at least that, he returned to the airlock and un-muted Nina.

"Lt. Simmons, you are in breach of Protocol," she said instantly, "You have removed the wrong crew-members. The waking sequence..."

"Will be fine Nina," he finished for her, "Otherwise you would have told me so. Instead, you just referenced Protocol. Sorry, but I know you can't lie."

After what would have been regarded as stony silence in a human, she continued, "I will have to report you to command upon re-establishment of 2-way communication."

"Please do. But since I'm about to die and leave my body floating through space for all eternity, I can't really say as that I care."

"Your sacrifice will also be noted."

"Thank you Nina," Simmons said before entering the airlock himself. As its heavy door shut her reply was lost to its steel silence. He then stepped over Hoover and Jenkin's torpid bodies to the Emergency Vent lever. Closing his eyes and trying not to whimper he pulled the lever, blasting himself and their bodies into the dark vacuum of space. The rush out the hatch knocked the air out of his lungs. As he gasped for air he watched the Hyacinth slowly recede.

He was shocked to see Jenkins' watching him from the porthole by the airlock. As his inertia turned him away from the ship he saw five other bodies floating with him. He died just as he realized what happened.

"Mr. Jenkins," Nina said, "I told you that Lt. Simmons was too close to waking to be chosen. There is an 87.42% probability that he was conscious."

"Maybe he was," Jenkins gruffly answered before turning, "But that arrogant bastard would've done the same to me in a heartbeat."

#FridayFlash Smooth Takeover

#FridayFlash

Smooth Takeover

©2011 D. Paul Angel

982 words

"Smooth" Tony Noland walked up the creaking steps of the old Brownstone.  Once low-income housing, the various apartments were now rented on an hourly, if not minutely, basis.  He reached the top floor, and walked all the way to the end of the hall to where a large, bear of a man was standing in front of a door.

"Arturo," Tony said genially while brushing tiny bits of lint off his clean, white suit.

"You shouldn't be here Mr. Noland," he answered with chagrined directness.  "Mr. Ferruccio said that your weren’t to be anywhere near his brother."

"I don't doubt that, Arturo, I really don't," Tony said sympathetically.  "But, things change. I guarantee you he would not say a word of objection right now to me seeing Eligio."

"I find that very hard to believe Mr. Noland," Arturo answered. "But I find it very easy to believe that you would come here to try and convince me to let you in."

"Again, I can't really say as I blame you.  Which is why, when I'm in charge, I'll remember you, Arturo.  You’re sacrifice today is really going to help."

Arturo genuinely laughed at this.  A deep, rolling rumble of a laugh that rang down the hall.  Tony chuckled, too.  He had, after all, cultivated the notion that he was more or less harmless.  At least until he had had the opportunity to seize Ferruccio’s structure, that is.  Arturo was still catching his breath when he asked through the last few guffaws, "And how am I going to help you?"

Arturo looked on with dubious curiosity as Tony withdrew a white handkerchief from his coat with a flourish.  He was too late to react when from its silky embrace Tony withdrew a snub nose .357 and shot him in the chest.  Twice.  Tony left the body where it was and walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

"How you doing, Eligio?" he softly asked, tingeing his voice with concern despite wanting to wretch from the mix of awful smells in the room.  Eligio sat on the bad shaking, huddled under a thin, dirty blanket.  He guessed that Eligio had been in withdrawals for quite some time.  Doctors would've knocked him out, but when you publicly embarrass your Kingpin brother, your comfort is no longer material.

"You got a fix for me Tony?  Just a little bit to, you know, get me through?"  He looked up at Tony with lustful hope.  Even though Tony was repulsed by the addict’s pathetic plea, he made Damn sure he didn’t show it.  "No smack, no.  But I do have something else.  Here."  Tony handed him the gun with the handkerchief, deftly removing the latter without touching the gun itself.

"It's still warm.  Was that...  I thought that was a dream."

"No, Eligio, not a dream.  A nightmare.  Your brother sent me.  He found out Arturo was skimming and wanted him dealt with.  And, you too unfortunately.  He figured you'd be passed out, so I could put the gun in your hand and call the police.  Two birds, one stone."

"What!?  He wouldn't!" Eligio got up and started compulsively pacing the room while shaking his head no.  "My brother loves me.  He says so.  He. Says. So!"

"I know, I know Eligio," Tony said soothingly, "But, you gotta understand, Giuseppe's a business man first.  And what you pulled was pretty embarrassing."

"I was just trying to score, Tony.  I... He cut me off!" Eligio's screamed echoed in the tiny space of the room, "That dirty sonufabitch cut me off!  How was I supposed to score, Tony, huh?  How!?  He knows I need It!  He knows!"

"Easy, Eligio.  Remember how many how many times I've tried to help you?  That's why I'm here now."

"But, you said you ain't got no smack, Tony.  That ain’t help, Tony, that ain’t help."

"That's why I brought you the gun, Eligio.  Guiseppe, well, he wants you to disappear.  Why do you think you're here instead of a hospital?"

"I don't like hospitals, Tony.  Guiseppe knows that."

"I get it, but see, and I hate to be the one to tell you this Eligio, but, he didn't think you'd make it.  He was mad as Hell when he called me in.  He wanted you gone, but, you’re his brother.  So he figured this was better than whacking you"

Eligio sat back down on the bed and wrapped himself in the blanket again.  He began muttering to himself and staring and a large patch of peeling yellow paint.  "He wouldn't do that."

"Eligio..." Tony said softly, putting his arm around the now shaking man. "I brought you the gun because Guiseppe is coming here.  In about ten minutes.  And he is expecting to see you marched out of here in cuffs.  And, if that doesn't happen..."  Tony trailed off as Eligio started crying on his shoulder.  Tony cringed internally but decided that absolute control of the Ferruccio gang was well worth losing a suit over.

"He would, wouldn't he?"

"He's a crime boss, Eligio, nothing, not even your beautiful mother, God rest her soul, can come before that."

"So what do I do?"

"You use the gun."  Eligio picked it up and stared at it.  Tony patted him on the back and walked out, closing the door behind him and making sure to avoid the growing puddle of Arturo's blood.  He was halfway down the stairs when he ran into Gervasio coming up.

Gervasio asked, "It’s done? "

"Almost," Tony said.  A few steps later and they heard the gun fire one last time. "Now it is."

"Uh, Mr. Noland... I know there's bad blood between you and Ferruccio, but getting his kid brother to off himself might be a bit much, y'know?"

"Too true Gervasio.  In fact, if I hadn't already killed him that gun, I bet he'd be downright pissed."

The Barrier Crossroads

"Just remember," she said to me with a professionally charming smile, "Whatever you do, do not try and open the barrier door until the green light is lit.  But don't wait too long either."

"I understand the not going through too soon," trying to talk to her and help play down some of my own nervousness, "I just don't know why they warn you about hesitating."

"Well, sir," she replied with an obviously often stated response, "It is just *different* once you get there.  It is a big decision you've made and, once you're at the crossroads, there's a hesitancy to pull away from taking that step."

"But it's not like people would do this on a whim, would they?  It just seems too much of a commitment to back away now."

"It's not really about backing away," she continued, and I was surprised when I realized that this wasn't part of the standard answer, that this was the true her, "It's about shying away from the enormity of it.  Imagine you're standing on a sheer cliff looking down into a lake.  Behind you is a forest fire that will consume you if you don't jump.  You know that.  You know you'll be consumed if you stay and safe if you jump, but still, on the precipice itself, you hesitate."  I looked through her light brown eyes into a woman of deep thoughts, spirit, and feelings.  Her short red hair only just brushed her shoulders, and I realized that, for the first time since I'd lost Faye, I was looking at a woman I could love.

The outer door opened, and as she waved me in I saw the ring on her finger.  It only made sense, after all, that a woman such as her would already be taken.  It actually made the decision all the easier.  I walked in with a lightness that I hadn't felt before.  I stopped and turned to thank her, but I could see already tell that her professional demeanor had returned, cutting of any further connection beyond client and greeter, "Once the outer doors close, there is no moving back; only forward."

"Good luck," she added with the briefest lifting of her emotional veil, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

The outer doors closed.

The chamber I was in had plain, white walls behind me, and a single huge glass wall in front of me.  A door was cut out of the glass with two lights overhead.  The red light was solidly lit and the green was off, but I scarcely noticed either one.  Before me was the Time Barrier.  It ebbed and flowed as a visceral cloud of colors, ebbing and flowing against the glass.  The colors cycled through in gentle patterns that could be seen as deeply evocative in one way, and frighten disturbing in another.  It was beautiful, terrifying, and thoroughly overwhelming.

The Red light started flashing, and I understood why some hesitated.  The cloud waves were flowing with more regularity, and the flashing was starting to sync with their motions.  All I had to do was open the door when it turned green, step through, and my consciousness would be returned in time to a place before I lost Faye.  Open the door and step through, and all the pain will end.  The lonely days and lonelier nights would be gone, and Faye... Faye would be back.  Open the door-

The cloud was staying longer and longer against the door, the flashing was slower and slower, and I knew it would be green any second.  I was jarred out of my reverie by a sudden mental image of the girl in the lobby.  I didn't know her name but I suddenly saw her smile, her obvious depth; her passion.  A jagged flash of memory hung in the air before me: the picture of her waving me into the room.  The ring was on her middle finger.

Maybe she wasn't taken?  The smile, her eyes, they all flashed past me one after the other.  I suddenly knew that she saw me as differently as I saw her.  Or was I misreading her?  Was it all just some last minute ploy by my mind trying to keep me from Faye?  How could this stranger's smile be suddenly more familiar to me than Faye's?

The light turned green.