The bumper stuck up through the glassy surface of the lake. I sat on the bank shivering, watching the sun’s show of orange and gold. The grass tickled my bare ankles. Just up the embankment, the traffic roared by in waves. The coarse fibers of the wool blanket the police gave me scratched my neck.
Officer Taylor squatted down in front of me. His blue, polyester uniform pants strained over his bulging, middle-aged midriff. “What happened?”
I watched his mustached mouth. “I don’t know. I guess I just fell asleep.” I picked a blade of grass and twisted it around my finger. My head felt heavy.
“Where were you headed?”
“Nowhere really. That’s unimportant. The important thing is where I was coming from?” The tow truck beeped as it backed down the embankment.
Officer Taylor didn’t respond at first. He looked straight into me as if looking for something. “Okay then. Where were you coming from?” He struggled to balance on his haunches.
“Atlantic City.” My wet jeans clung to my legs. My thighs itched.
“Gambling trip?”
“Something like that.” The metallic ring of the tow truck’s hook as it clamped down on the car cut the air.
“Where you from?”
“Originally?”
“No. No. Coming from or returning to. Where were you returning to?”
The chain clinked around itself as it rolled onto the giant spool on the back of the truck.
“Vermont.”
It emerged slowly. The weekend special was only nine dollars and ninety-nine cents a day — a red Geo Metro shaped like a jellybean. I rented it for this trip.
Unable to squat any longer, Officer Taylor stood up. He looked over at the car, then back down at me. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
The front of the car was flattened. I looked at the car sitting on the bank, water bleeding from its seams. I thought about the duffle bag in the trunk. I imagined the block of white powder inside turning to paste. “Yeah. I’m lucky to be alive.”
H. Lovelyn Bettison is a freelance writer who lives and works in a quiet London suburb. Her short stories have appeared in Toasted Cheese Literary Journal. Her story “Shifting” won second place in Humdinger Literary E-zine’s Musical Nostalgia Writing Contest.
loading...
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
Subscribe to the RSS Feed! (what is rss)
Don’t miss another story! Subscribe to Every Day Fiction via RSS.- Share on Facebook
12 Responses to “WEEKEND SPECIAL • by H. Lovelyn Bettison”
Comments
« TAKEN FOR A RIDE • by Oonah V Joslin | Home | CARPATHIA • by Megan Arkenberg »
May 5th, 2009 at 3:43 am
A cohesive enough story, with a satisfying ending. However, nothing much happens.
Also, I found the over-abundance of adjectives about Officer Taylor a bit distracting.
Still worth a 4, though.
May 5th, 2009 at 5:42 am
I like this one. This is really slick stuff, with a surprise at the end. You can’t help but wonder where this one will go. Reminded me of No Country for Old Men in the sense that somebody is going to be looking for the ‘block’ of white powder…
May 5th, 2009 at 5:44 am
The ending was too sudden, it just sort of jumped up out of nowhere. The story needs more foreshadowing that there’s some kind of problem (other than the car in the water).
May 5th, 2009 at 5:44 am
This story could have benefited from a few more rounds of editing; too many mechanical / grammatical problems to sustain interest. Agree with Paul about the over-adjectivization of the cop; and I don’t understand the protagonist’s difficult attitude with the cop – why invite suspicion?
Not enough of a payoff in the conclusion to overcome the weight of the problems.
May 5th, 2009 at 5:53 am
Good imagery, compelling! I like the twist at the end, a screw-up with the drugs, like Joyce said…someone will have to answer or pay. Good flash!
May 5th, 2009 at 7:14 am
Well written scene, but it seems to me that it doesn’t stand as a complete work in itself.
May 5th, 2009 at 8:12 am
There were some really nice descriptive images: “watching the sun’s show of orange and gold” and “red Geo Metro shaped like a jellybean.”
However, I have to agree with most of the others in that this didn’t feel like a complete story. It seems like an excerpt ripped from a longer piece as we don’t know why the protagonist has ended up where she is and we don’t know where the story is headed.
May 5th, 2009 at 9:24 am
I liked that last sentence. I was wondering where this story was headed, at least it ended with a bang.
May 5th, 2009 at 9:25 am
Once again I’m the odd one out–I got the story just as it is. Author’s generosity with adjectives had to do with MC in the moment, willing time to freeze. Peculiar thing, the mind.
May 5th, 2009 at 12:49 pm
I didn’t see that ending coming.
He won’t be alive for long if I don’t miss my guess.
May 5th, 2009 at 2:38 pm
I’m with Sharon on “getting” the story. And even the guy’s attitude is explicable: he thinks he’s gotten away with something here, though perhaps he will have to answer for the cocaine to someone else down the road.
The end was a good idea, but it didn’t work for me. Cocaine is typically packaged in plastic, particularly if in powder form. In other words, you won’t see anyone carrying around a “brick” of cocaine, like a chunk of hardened laundry detergent, and it not be wrapped up in something (again, usually plastic). There isn’t a specific weight mentioned, but a “block” brings to mind a standard kilo size amount of coke. If it is powder, it is going to be wrapped tight to ensure no leakage of product. While it may not be completely waterproof, there’ll be enough left to hook the MC up for possession.
Of course, nothing says here it is cocaine, but you get that impression.
–John
May 15th, 2009 at 11:07 am
Loved it. Found myself really delving into the scene.