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#488110 03/31/07 03:13 AM
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David and Ann
(C) 2007 by Mike Dunbar

David Russell felt like going for a drive.

"I'm off to the store to get those filters for the air conditioner. You need anything while I'm gone?"

Ann thought for a while, "Could you get some bananas and that soymilk? I think we've got plenty of bread."

"OK" David replied. He went into the connected garage and removed one plywood panel revealing the wall safe. Nimble fingers spun the dial and soon the door was open. "Hmmm which one for the store?" he thought. It could be the Czech 9mm. No, too warm today. Maybe the Kel-Tec .380? Not that one either, that's more of a back up gun. "Ahh" he said as his fingers glided over the cool stainless steel of the Ruger snubnose .357 magnum. David slipped it into a pocket holster from the second shelf and it soon disappeared into his Dockers.

The drive to the shopping center was pleasant. He could listen to whatever he wanted. David chose the oldies station. The Trashmen sang, "Poppa Ooh Mow Mow" and David harmonized as loud as he could, sounding much worse than he thought he was. It was late spring in Georgia and everything was in full bloom. Maybe it was the song, or maybe the spring, or maybe even the pistol in his pocket, but David thought back to the days long before his retirement. A day like this, he'd be riding with his partner unable to enjoy any music because the radio would be giving instructions. He sometimes felt like a pawn in a chess game, told to drive here and talk to these people...see why they're fighting and get them to stop. Watch his partner's back while his partner watched his, and pray to God nothing gets out of control. And nothing was ever really in his control to begin with.


Alex slapped her again.

"You like that? You want more?" He didn't care about the marks, he didn't care about the judge, she wasn't going to bust his balls. Virginia was sobbing, a stream of bloody snot striped her cheek in the direction of Alex's blow. He took her by the hair and pulled her out of her chair. Virginia's high heel caught the back of her calf, scraping her leg and causing her to pitch forward. This made Alex's anger heat up. He squeezed his fistful of hair and pounded her on top of the head, then thrust his arm upward pulling her screaming to her feet. A forward shove sent her sprawling on the floor. Alex lined up his foot to kick.



Ann took some clothes from the dryer. She carefully folded them and brought them into the bedroom to arrange them neatly in the drawer. She should have told David, but no need to worry him. He seemed so happy and carefree. Who would have thought retirement would suit him so. Retirees. Empty Nesters. They sounded so...so tame. Not like Law Enforcement Officer, or Policeman's Wife. She used to worry, but he never spoke about work. Of course he didn't have to. The other wives let her know. "David's a hero." or "Didn't it scare you that he almost got shot." She'd smile, but her heart would leap to her throat. Closing the drawer she looked at the pictures on the dresser. Their wedding with him in his dress blues, then last month at the lake with a stringer of smallmouth bass. He took to retirement like a duck to water and now Ann could sleep soundly all night.



David pulled into the strip mall. There was a hardware store and a small convenience market. He'd get the filters and the bananas, but they probably wouldn't have the soymilk. Well, he'd get a quart of two percent. That would last until Ann could get to the Super Wal Mart.

The hardware store was David's personal paradise. Maybe he'd look at the multi-tool table. It could be a table saw or a drill press or even a joiner, all using the same motor. What a honey. David would measure it in his mind to see if it would fit in the corner of the garage with the car. He'd done this at least a half a dozen times before, and knew he'd do it a half dozen times again before he just bought the darn thing. Then of course he'd have to take Ann to the garden center and let her go wild. These things have to balance out.

"Hey officer, how's the simple life?" Harry was a nice kid, friendly to everyone. David was sure he'd end up managing the hardware store. Harry knew every piece they sold, and knew every customer, if not by name, then by details of their lives. David smiled. "It sure beats police work, Harry. Say, where do you keep the air conditioner filters?" "They're over here, sir, what size?" David thought for a second, "Oh I think 20x20x1."



The old car stopped with a screech. Alex picked up the .40 caliber Glock pistol from the seat next to him and stuck it into his belt. Finishing the can of malt liquor and crushing it, he cut the palm of his hand. "Son of a bitch...damn bitch...son of a bitch." He opened the car door and stumbled out into the sunlight squinting. "You've had it you little prick." He shouted to the few empty cars in the parking lot.



Virginia tried to get up off the living room floor. She looked at her blood on the carpet and sobbed, heaved a heavy breath and deflated like a blow up doll, dead.


Holding the pictures to her breast, Ann danced into the living room. She wouldn't tell David about the lump until she heard more from the doctor. Not until the tests were certain. Why worry him, that wonderful man. He's happy, and relaxed, and peaceful. Let's not spoil that just yet.


There were filters packaged in threes on the bottom rack. David bent down and he tapped his fingers on the weight in his right pocket, shifting it with a practiced move so the revolver wouldn't fall on the floor. Harry went up to talk with a customer, so David thought it would be nice to get lost in the power tool aisle.



What a little prick. He looked like a college kid, smiling like some goofy monkey. He wouldn't be smiling soon. He wouldn't be screwing around with anyone's wife anymore. "Hey, you know Virginia Watson?" Harry shook his head, "Yeah, Mrs. Watson, she just bought a bunch of paint." Alex sneered, "Did her husband say it was ok to buy that paint?" David frowned and stayed crouched in the aisle. "No sir, she came in by herself." Alex stared at Harry's knee. "I'll bet she came, didn't she come you little prick?" Harry shook his head, "What, what are you talking about?" his voice got higher and cracked a little. Alex pulled out the Glock and shot Harry's kneecap.


Ann thought about it. It wasn't right, she shouldn't hide it from David. Sometimes she hated that he kept things to himself, she shouldn't do the same thing to him. But then, that's what he did. He protected her. To serve and protect. A tear welled up in her eye. "I'm blessed to have such a man, thank you God." Ann made up her mind, she'd wait on telling him until it was really time. No need to worry him. She looked at the pictures again and kissed her wedding ring.


David exploded out of the aisle sending bolts and washers flying across the floor. His Ruger was in both hands in the turret position. "Drop the weapon!!NOW!!" Alex spun around with the Glock still in his hand. David put two bullets into the center of Alex's chest knocking him backwards onto Harry. Harry screamed as Alex's weight hit his wounded knee, it was dead weight.


Ann woke up on the couch to see David in the living room carrying some packages. "Sorry I'm late honey, I had to go to another store to get the soymilk." "Oh that's ok dear," Ann said with a sleepy yawn, "It's just good to see your handsome face."

As David bent down to kiss her, he saw the wedding picture. He said, "I should have just worn the tux like your mother wanted."

Ann made a funny frown. "Never you mind about that, David Russell, I love you just the way you are."



You've got to know your limitations. I don't know what your limitations are. I found out what mine were when I was twelve. I found out that there weren't too many limitations, if I did it my way. -Johnny Cash

It's only music.
-niteshift

Mike Dunbar Music

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Hi Mike,

This is really good imo. I like the way the main character is telling the story while there is a narrator describing things that are going on outside of his scope (or whatever it's called). I'm dying to know the secret that Ann is keeping. So, where's the next chapter? Is this a published work with the rest of the story?

Great character development already in the first few paragraphs.

Vanessa

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Hi Mike,

This is really good imo. I like the way the main character is telling the story while there is a narrator describing things that are going on outside of his scope (or whatever it's called). I'm dying to know the secret that Ann is keeping. So, where's the next chapter? Is this a published work with the rest of the story?

Great character development already in the first few paragraphs.

Vanessa

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An intense story with just the right amount of suspense woven throughout. The only thing that confused me was what Ann was hiding from David. I thought she might be pregnant because of the tests or possibly sick (cancer, etc.). Unless this is a chapter from a longer work, you might want to clear that up for your reader. (Unless you want to leave them hanging, of course. wink )

Suggestions:

A day like this, he'd be be riding with his partner...(Delete one of the 'be' words.)

And nothing was every really in his control...(every = ever)

You also might want to add some type of marks in here to separate the different story sections so it doesn't all blur together. Something like **** or ~~~~, just to be easier on the reader's eyes and help them stay focused.

Good one, Mike. smile


~Christine


Change the world...one act of random kindness at a time.
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Thanks Vanessa,

It's only published here, I wrote it last night. At one time I tried to get Ann to talk about the tests, but she wouldn't even dwell on it herself. The tests and her possible illness weren't her problem, it was protecting David while being honest with him. She and David are a lot alike. I doubt if there'll be more about them. The characters could develop, but I don't know what they'd do. If David had more adventures they'd lose their reality and become a tv or movie series. Most police officers never fire their weapons for their whole careers. Some retire never having drawn their weapons outside of the qualifying range. David had more than his share. Thanks again.

Christine,

Thanks to you also. I fixed the typos. Funny how how I made both mistaken in the same area. I tried ######## when I first wrote it out, but as the action accelerated and the sections became smaller it looked distracting to me, so I just added an extra line of space. I might look at it again later, I'm a little too close to it now, and maybe change some of the wording to make it more obvious, but when I wrote it last night, I kind of liked the blurring of the locations contrasting the different sets of characters. Again, as to Ann's illness, it's not so much leaving the reader hanging, it's that Ann wouldn't be thinking about what it was, just the effect it would have on David. I saw an interview with Alfred Hitchcock where he talked about what he called the "Mc Guffin." It's the reason for the problem, and he said it wasn't important. So in North by Northwest, for example, we never know what's on the microfilm. Ann's illness is my poor attempt at a Mc Guffin.

Thanks again, again.

All the Best,
Mike


You've got to know your limitations. I don't know what your limitations are. I found out what mine were when I was twelve. I found out that there weren't too many limitations, if I did it my way. -Johnny Cash

It's only music.
-niteshift

Mike Dunbar Music

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Good story, Mike. I hate you scared poor Harry like that, though. wink Poor thing.


"Grits is one of those country-boy words that is both singular and plural-like deer, elk and sheep. I think the singular is appropriate when there's a modifier that makes it clear one is talking about something specific. Like, 'Grits are good for you, but these here grits is tasty.'"~~Joe Wrabek
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Thanks Tricia,

Poor Harry, he got a lot worse than just scared, but thanks to David, at least he's still around.

I finally got around to looking at it and added a line explaining Ann's illness (thanks for that, Christine).


You've got to know your limitations. I don't know what your limitations are. I found out what mine were when I was twelve. I found out that there weren't too many limitations, if I did it my way. -Johnny Cash

It's only music.
-niteshift

Mike Dunbar Music

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Mike,
Grain of salt and all that, but I don't really see a story here. It's a sort of vignette about a couple who mistake "protecting" each other for love.
He's an ex-cop with an apparently illegal gun collection that he keeps hidden from her, but takes to the store. And she thinks about how he never told her anything about work. So he's still a cop at heart.

Now she's got a big secret and doesn't tell him and he has a big thing happen he doesn't tell her about. (If an ex-cop shoots some guy dead in the hardware store, she's going to know about it quick unless she never sees a newpaper or tv news.)

There's no real conflict. No one changes or has to make a decision about anything. Nothing really happens other than a killer is killed.

Suppose David retired after he was wounded and his partner was killed in a shooting. He blames himself because he thinks he hesitated before shooting when someone pulled a gun on them, even though that never came up at the inquest.

But he's never talked to anyone about and consciously tried to protect his wife from worrying about him worrying about it, just like he tried to protect her from the dangers of the job.
Then he finds out that his wife may have breast cancer but hasn't told him about it.

That starts off the conflict in him. He knows she's trying to protect him. Should he have told her about the shooting? Is he really protecting her or is he just ashamed, or what?

So he gets the gun -- he feels like he always has to be armed since the shooting -- and goes to the store. He talks to Harry, who is the only other person in the store other than a nice looking, somewhat older woman. Harry and the woman are standing close and laughing, and David thinks to himself that there's something going on there.

So David's back in the power tools and hears a loud argument. He comes to the from and sees a man screaming at Harry and the woman. It's apparent to David that the man is the woman's husband.

As David watches, the man pulls a gun and shoots Harry like three times, then drops the gun and runs out the door. David runs out after him.

David likes Harry, but his anger is so great that it's apparent, maybe even to him, that he's mixing it up with his partner's death and the guilt he feels about it. Someone else he likes has been shot while he was standing there with a gun.

Because he knows the town so well he manages to chase the guy down in an abandoned part of town -- maybe he keeps letting him go until he's basically herded him there. Or maybe he just gets to the parking lot before the guy can leave.

Whatever happens, the guy's in his car and David is standing there with a gun. And they're alone.

Conflict. What's he going to do?

Maybe he walks up to the car intending to shoot, but the guy is crying. He realizes the shooter isn't the reason he's angry and he calls the cops.
Maybe he shoots the guy as he walks up to the car. Then he realizes he did the wrong thing.

In the first case, he goes home, puts the gun on the table and says "Ann, we have to talk."
In the second case, he disposes of the gun, goes home and decides to protect Ann from knowing as long as she lives, but he leaves the impression that he won't be living much longer than her.

Anyway, just blue-skying, and I know that's not the same idea as yours. But there's a story arc there. Something happens to one of the characters.

#494197 04/19/07 12:16 AM
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Interesting.

I like your story. Sorry you think mine's not a story.

All the Best,
Mike

P.S. In mine there is a conflict, someone does have to make a decision. Also, David's guns are legal.


You've got to know your limitations. I don't know what your limitations are. I found out what mine were when I was twelve. I found out that there weren't too many limitations, if I did it my way. -Johnny Cash

It's only music.
-niteshift

Mike Dunbar Music


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