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[caption id="attachment_2489" align="aligncenter" width="500"]
The Horror in Smithville[/caption].
Welcome back My Dear Readers to The Other Shoe. Today is Friday August 28th, 2014. As I am writing these words, my body is wracked with pain all through my head, neck, and down my left arm into my hand. This is what ‘Bad Day’ with my pain is like. On top of that… my mouse is not working… anymore. It is a wireless mouse… so that I can sit in my bed, write, and get work done. I changed the batteries, and that didn’t help. I am trying to fill out forms for Medi-Cal, write, and not let my pain get the better of me.
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I am pretty much loosing that last battle. Well, My Dear Readers, I just finished editing ‘The Horror in Smithville’ Part 14-B. Low and behold, what I have is seven pages long. That is about what I try to publish each week, but I get to the end… and I have not written as far as I had thought I… did. There is a whole nother scene! I have… the initial situation ‘under control’ and the end of the part tied up, nicely. However, there is the… well, best part that I thought I had put to paper… and, well, it only exists in my head! My Dear Readers… it IS the very BEST part, too! I apologize… I can ‘see’ it clearly in my head, as clear as day.
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I know what I have to write, and I will get about doing that, just as soon as; I have this part published, I take a bath, change a pain medication patch I wear, check on Alexander… I may give him a bath… I am not certain… Damnit… this darn pain! Today, I just cannot seem to shake it! It just keeps growing and getting worse and worse! At this point I am having problems ‘seeing’ the keyboard and the monitor.
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Bottom line, my apologies for only having the first seven pages of this ‘scene’. It is about what I publish on any given week. Yet, what comes next! It will just knock your socks off! Hint; there is an appearance of ‘The Tall Man’ in the very next part of this scene. J
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And.. what he does? Will knock your socks off! I cannot wait to write it, later today. Now, here’s the deal.
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DEAL OFFERED BY DANNY! If, in the next TEN HOURS I get a (or a combination of donation(s) equal to or greater than $100.00? “I, Daniel Hanning, PROMISE TO PUBLISH Episode TWO of PART 14-B… TOMORROW! That’s IT. BUMP my campaign to $100 OR MORE? I will PUBLISH ANOTHER episode of ‘The Horror in Smithville’ TOMORROW!
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Otherwise, everyone will have to wait until next Friday to read the best part of ‘Part 14-B’. It is another seven to twelve pages… that I can write up in about two hours! I have it written in my head.. right now. I ‘see’ it so clearly… It is like I already wrote it… but I have looked and it is not already written. L
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However, it is grand! The ‘bully’ gets his due… ‘The Tall Man’ makes a shocking appearance… and another mystery is added to the plot line… all in one tne page addition to ‘Part 14-B! I will probably write it, tonight, anyway. I was (initially) very upset when I came to the end, of the editing, and saw I had not gone as far as I had thought. You see, My Dear Readers, that is one of the problems of my current medical condition. I think I have completed a task. However, my pain will have interrupted my work… and I will have forgotten I stopped… due to the pain. It really sucks… and it makes me embarrassed, at times.
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Enough, you know ‘The Deal’? Right? $100 (or more)… by Midnight = THE END OF ‘Part 14-B’ TOMORROW! Otherwise… everyone has to wait until NEXT Friday to read what happens to Barry Gartuska… ‘The Tall Man’… and Mr. Dunahoo and Betty Sue. DEAL? DEAL!
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Now, without further adieu I give to you ‘The Horror in Smithville – Part 14-B 1”!
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The Horror in Smithville[/caption].
Part Fourteen - B -1
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Mr. Dunahoo stood, silently, and watched as Tom Marref pealed out of the Middle School parking lot. Mr. Dunahoo knew that inside that truck, now leaving huge clouds of white/gray smoke in the parking lot; laid the unconscious and beaten body of a wonderfully talented student by the name of Timmy Marref. Truman, Mr. Dunahoo, wondered if any of the people gathered here at the back of the school (both students and teachers alike) even noticed how the billowing clouds of smoke coming from the rear tires of Mr. Marref’s truck? How those poofy white clouds resembled the wings of an angel. How, standing there watching a boy… a terribly beaten boy, being carried away by his father and his best friend, in their truck, actually looked like the truck was being lifted on the wings of an angel to take the poor boy to the hospital.
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Mr. Dunahoo had been a teacher at Smithville schools (either the High School or the Middle School… and now for BOTH) for over twenty years. Smithville was a small community, and had even smaller student bodies. In all of those years as a teacher, and sometimes as a mentor to some students, Mr. Dunahoo had never seen a… beating quite like the one he had just witnessed. Never, in all his years of teaching, had Truman ever seen such a savage beating by one student against another. Savage. That was the only right word, and being one of the school’s eldest English teachers, the right word was very important. Mr. Dunahoo wondered if anyone had taken pictures… or video of the… beating. Not because he wanted to look at it, again, he had been right there when it happened. He had no need to see that sight, again. No, Mr. Dunahoo wondered… hoped, that someone had taken pictures of a video of this brutal and savage beating for one reason, and one reason only! The criminal prosecution of Barry Gartuska!
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Mr. Dunahoo would be more than happy to be a sworn witness to the savage and brutal beating Timmy Marref took at the hands of Barry Gartuska. As well, Truman was quite good at descriptive testimony, as one might well imagine. However, words could/would only do so much. Whereas a video or even pictures would speak a thousand words and leave little room for a defense attorney to attribute personal feelings and/or exaggeration as cause for excluding sworn testimony. Yes, images would make sure that Barry was prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Yet, none of that would happen if he didn’t get Barry to the Principal’s office to be held until Walter or Darryl, from the Sheriff’s office, came to pick him up.
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Truman, Mr. Dunahoo, smelled smoke! That’s all the school needed, now, a fire. Truman looked around, frantically, and then looked down at his feet. There at Truman’s feet was Barry. Sitting calmly and smoking a cigarette! Either this boy had no sense of the trouble he was in, or he did understand the deep poop he was in, and figured ‘how much worse will it be if I spark up a smoke, right here, while I wait to be taken away’? Either way, Mr. Dunahoo was not going to tolerate such blatant disrespect by a member of the student body! He reached down, yanked the smoke out from Barry’s mouth, and ground the life out of his cigarette, directly beside Barry.
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“It’s no biggie, Mr. Dunahoo, I was done… anyway. Hey, you’re a smart teacher. Do you think that little gaywad, Timmy, will live? I’m not so sure, ya’know? I saw blood comin’ out his ears and outa’ his eyes when that gaywad’s Dad came an picked up his limp corpse. I thought his little boyfriend was gonna shit himself, there at the end! If’n gaywads Dad hadn’t of shown up? I was set to start a beat’n on ‘Gaywad #2’!”
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Barry chuckled under his breath. He was pretty self impressed. Truman decided that he wanted to get this waste-of-skin into the Principal’s office STAT. The sooner he handed Barry off the Principal Marsch, the sooner he could head to the hospital and check on Timmy and Archer. He looked down at the moronic hulk that was Barry Gartuska, and wondered just how long? How long would a boy, like him, last in prison? Not long… he hoped!
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Mr. Dunahoo nudged Barry with the bright silver tip of his boot, and spoke.
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“Barry, you had best hope that Timmy Marref lives! (Truman nodded his head, as he spoke, and nudged Barry, again, with the silver tip of his boot) There is nobody, in this community, that will show you ‘mercy’ for you just did to Tom Marref’s boy. NOBODY! Now, get your butt up, and let’s get you to the Principal’s office!”
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Mr. Dunahoo was using his lowest, deepest, ‘command voice’ on Barry. He didn’t want any trouble. He, honestly, feared that if Barry gave him any problems? He just might… accidentally… hurt Barry. ‘Hurt’… yeah, hurt. In Truman’s heart he knew. Knew that after what he had just witnessed? Witnessed just how this Barry had beaten a defenseless and compassionate young man like Timmy? Beaten the poor boy to within an inch of his life? Beaten him to within a inch of his life, with his best friend in the world standing right beside him? Truman knew that if he had been offered any chance? Offered any opportunity to ‘be alone in a dark alley’ with Barry? Truman knew that he would take Barry’s life in a heartbeat, and would sleep just fine that night! The sooner Barry was in the custody of Principal Marsch, the sooner that could not happen. He nudged Barry, again, with the sliver tip of his boot. Barry responded.
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“What if I don’t want to go to the Principal’s office? What if I just want to go over to my bus, and take my bust home? What would you do to stop me, old man?”
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Now, Mr. Dunahoo was one of the ‘elder’ teachers on the Middle School campus. He made no effort to hide his age. He did not hide it from his fellow teachers, nor any of the students. A couple of years ago he had given up in using ‘Grecian Formula’ on his beard and mustache. As well, he had stopped coloring his hair, too. For Mr. Dunahoo his age was a sign of dignity and grace in the face of the marching years. He worked out, at one of the gyms one town over, three times a week. He did this not so much to look good as to fight the creep of too many pieces of pecan pie, and cheeseburgers. Mr. Dunahoo loved to eat good tasting but not always healthy foods.
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For the majority of Truman’s life, that had not been a problem. For whatever reason, he had always managed to keep a slim physique, until about ten years ago. Then, he figured, his metabolism had slowed. Cheeseburgers and pecan pie just did not ‘burn-off’ the way that they used to, and he started putting on weight. Again, he was not really vain. Yet, he did not want to have to buy new clothes just to accommodate the extra pounds. Truman was used to buying new clothes right before the start of every new school year. To have to buy clothes, mid-year, just rubbed him the wrong way. That was when he has looked up the gym in the next town over, Friendswood. He didn’t want to work out next to other teachers, or students.
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Mr. Dunahoo was old-school and there were just lines that teachers and students did not cross. There was an old saying, which he agreed with fully; ‘Familiarity breeds contempt’. Best to keep… distance between himself and students, and (to a certain extent) that went for fellow teachers, too. There were only two other teachers that were around his age. He rather doubted either would/had ever gone to a gym, but better safe than sorry. After the first several months Mr. Dunahoo began to enjoy the regular workouts. He found that he had more energy, at the end of the day, and that he slept better at night.
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As well, Mr. Dunahoo was the director for the school plays, for the Middle School… and occasionally for the High School, too. His regular workouts had made these much longer days, during production for the plays, much easier. With, now, two years of being a ‘gym-rat’ his workouts had added more to his life than anything else he spent money. Yet, because nobody knew that he worked out… well, this was the reason that Barry was giving ‘the old-guy’ a hard time. Truman had just watched this punk beat a good and bright student to a bloody pulp. To heck with ‘being professional…’ he was going to make sure that Barry understood just how the cow ate the grass. He reached down, put his hand on Barry’s shoulder, leaned down beside Barry and whispered into his ear.
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“Mr. Gartuska, you can either get up off you butt, and walk with me to the Principal’s office? OR I can pick your butt up and carry you by the nape of your neck, like a dog or cat carries its young. Now, there are a lot of you fellow students watching. It is up to you just how they see you end up in the Principal’s office. FACT: You ARE going to the Principal’s office. Your only choice is how. Now, CHOOSE!”
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Barry was not a bright boy, and never had been. Barry had not been bright in his studies, nor in his ability to judge people. Barry’s poor judgment was the reason he was in trouble he found himself, right now. It was that, poor judgment, that led to him being remembered as ‘The Guy that Mr. Dunahoo CARRIED to the Principal’s office by the nape of his neck!’ What happened next, almost made Truman smile.!
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“Naw, I don’t think you, Old Man, can make me do anything! (Then Barry laughed loudly) So, I think I am going to sit, right here, and light up another cigarette. What are you going to do about that, Old Man?”
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Barry had said “Old Man” just one too many times! It is because of the events, about to transpire? Forever would Barry Gartuska be remembered not for beating up Timmy Marref. No, Barry Gartuska would be, forever, remembered as the student (60 year old) Truman Dunahoo carried, by the nape of his neck, all the way to the Principal’s office. Barry’s feet, not once, touching the ground all the way to the Principal’s office!
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Mr. Dunahoo did not say one word. He just reached down, grabbed Barry by the nape of his neck… there was some shirt was in there too, but a good deal of skin got clinched, as well! Mr., Dunahoo leaned down, grabbed Barry by the neck, lifted him up off his feet, and carried him, at arm’s length, all the way to the Principal’s office. There was an audible gasp, from the students and teachers gathered there, as Truman did go about carrying Barry (like a mother dog or cat carries its young) all the way to the Principal’s office.
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There were about two dozen students, and several teachers, that followed Mr. Dunahoo as he carried Barry Gartuska all the way to the Principal’s office. Barry’s feet never once touched the ground, the whole way. Oh, Barry didn’t go quietly, nope not at all. The whole way Barry screamed and squirmed, yelled and jerked. However, Mr. Dunahoo was in much better condition than Barry had thought, or anyone else imagined. Yes, he was a little out-of-breath by the time he plopped Barry into a chair, in the waiting area of the Principal’s office. Maybe even a little blushed in the cheeks. Yet, not so much that he couldn’t talk to the secretary (Betty Sue) once he got Barry into the office.
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“Betty Sue, I do not know if you have heard what just happened at the bus waiting area, behind the gymnasium. But, Mr. Gartuska, here, just beat Timmy Marref so badly? That his father, Tom Marref, is taking Timmy to the hospital as we speak. I saw most of the incident myself! As well, that poor Timmy, when he as carried away by Tom Marref and Archer, Timmy was bleeding out of his nose and ears! Timmy was unconscious, and had to be carried to his father’s truck. I am sure that you can call the Smithville Memorial Hospital and confirm that he is there, and maybe find out what condition Timmy is… in. Is Roger… Principal Marsch, here? I think that we should involve Walter Daniels over at the Sheriff’s office, too.”
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Betty Sue sat in stunned silence as Mr. Dunahoo explained the situation. He mouth hung open as Mr. Dunahoo explained why Barry Gartuska was in the Principal’s office. Betty Sue had already received several calls about the ‘fight’ out by the school buses. Yet, looking at Barry? She really didn’t see how it could have been a “fight”. Barry didn’t have a single mark on his body; his hands, his face, anywhere. Seemed it wasn’t really a ‘fight’. It seemed, to Betty Sue, that is was more like a beating than a fight.
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Betty Sue didn’t realize it, until Mr. Dunahoo cleared his throat, but she was just staring at Barry Gartuska. For good reason, she had never really had the opportunity to see someone in his position. Someone that was on the ‘express’ to incarceration… and maybe execution. Betty Sue had been a student, in Smithville, her whole life and before she was the Principal’s Secretary. In all her years as; student, adult, college student and now employee of the School District, Betty Sue had never heard of a worse beating. This wasn’t the first time Barry Gartuska had been to the Principal’s office. Not by a long shot, it was more like the tenth time this semester. Yet, it was nearly always for petty offences; smoking in the boys room, stuffing 6th graders into their lockers, pants’ing other students, talking back to a teacher, and (most often) for using foul language during class at a teacher.
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To the best of her memory nobody had ever been brought into the Principal’s office for putting another student in the hospital! Betty Sue was in shock… motionless… That is, until Mr. Dunahoo snapped her out of it by speaking. Speaking in that deep, rumbling, bass voice that just commanded your attention.
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“Betty Sue? Betty Sue, look up at me! It’s going to be ‘OK’, Betty Sue. Just keep breathing, ok? Now, Breath IN.” (Betty Sue breathes IN) “Now, Betty Sue, slowly let your breath, OUT!” (Slowly Betty Sue lets her breath out) “Again, Betty Sue… Breath in! Hold it for a second. Now, Betty Sue, let it out, slowly.”
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Mr. Dunahoo and Betty Sue do this several times, before Barry butts in… stupidly.
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“Geeeze Louiezzze! You gonna teacher he how to poo, next, Truman?” (Laughing at himself)
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Without even looking over at Barry? Truman reaches out and backhands Barry right across the face. Truman smacks Barry so hard, it leaves a large red mark on his left cheek. Then, Mr. Dunahoo speaks, again in that really deep and commanding bass voice.
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“Mr. Gartuska, that was a warning. Next time? Next time you say one WORD , without be asking something first? It won’t be a warning. Do we understand each other, Mr. Gartuska?”
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Barry has his face cradled in his hands. Without, even, looking up Barry responds.
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“Yeah… I get it, Truman… I get it, but I am going to report you for hitting me… do you understand that?”
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Obviously, Mr. Dunahoo has grown weary of dealing with Mr. Gartuska. Without a moments hesitation, Mr. Dunahoo, in a flash, lifts up his hand, draws it back, and goes to slap the crap out of Barry Gartuska. Just inches from his face, Mr. Dunahoo pulls his punch, stopping his hand. Barry flinches, big! Both Betty Sue and Mr. Dunahoo, both, hear him whimper like a beat dog. Barry lowers his head and says a few words.
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“Yes sir. I understand.” That was all.
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Truman motions to Betty Sue to follow him into the Principal’s office, the inner office, leaving Barry alone in the waiting area. Mr. Dunahoo shuts the door behind them, well almost shuts it he leaves the door a jar so he can keep an eye on Barry as he talks with Betty Sue.
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“Betty Sue? Where the HECK is Roger? We have a major incident here, and Roger is NOT here? Where is he? When will he be back? Does he have his cell phone on him?”
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Again, Betty Sue is shaken. Shaken by seeing Mr. Dunahoo backhand a student, and shaken by the thought that the boy in the waiting room may have killed another student. She stands there, lips quivering, but no words coming out. Mr. Dunahoo places his large hands on each of her shoulders, lowers his voice, and his head, and speaks calmly and quietly nearly right into her right ear.
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“Betty Sue, AGAIN, calm down. Now, where IS Principal Marsch?”
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Betty Sue takes a few deep breaths, and does her best to answer Mr. Dunahoo’s+ questions.
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“There was a call… from the site for the Carnival… a Mr. Dark. One of the workers… was hurt… I guess, badly. Principal Marsch left to go out to the job site. Mr. Dunahoo? Did he kill little Timmy Marref? That was what the callers were telling me, before you came in with Barry… that he… was… dead. Is that true? That’s can’t be true… Timmy Marref just can’t be dead!”
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Mr. Dunahoo, finally, got Betty Sue to talk. Now, she was going to freeze up, again, if he didn’t get her off thinking about Timmy Marref being dead.
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“Betty Sue? Betty SUE! When I saw Timmy Marref last, he was breathing. He was hurt, badly, but he was breathing. Now, get your mind off of Timmy and on to helping me find Principal Marsch! Did he take his cell phone with him? When did he leave? Did he say he would be coming back?”
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Betty Sue was loosing her battle with panic, and then she thought about what Principal Marsch was always telling her. Telling her about confusion leading to anarchy. Now… NOW Betty Sue saw what Principal Marsch was talking about. She closed her eyes, screwed up her courage, opened her eyes, and TOOK CHARGE of her emotions and the situation.
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“I’m sorry, Mr. Dunahoo, I am better now. First, YES Principal Marsch DID take his cell phone with him. Next, YES he DID say he was coming back after dealing with that problem. Now, I am going to call the Sheriff’s office, tell them to send someone out to arrest Barry. I think that you should lock him up in this part of the office. There is a way to lock someone into the office. Next, if you could call the hospital, give them the direct number to my desk. That way, when someone from the Sheriff’s office does show up, we can have the most recent information on Timmy’s condition. Next, I think that you, Mr. Dunahoo, should put Barry into this part of the office, then I will show you just how to lock him in here, there is no way out. Now, I will go and start making calls. Can you get him secured in here? Oh, I nearly forgot… follow me!”
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Truman was amazed and thankful for the change in Betty Sue. She had got the situation correct, and now he had someone to that can help and not just some more dead weight. He follows her back into the waiting area. Betty Sue opens her bottom desk drawer… and pulls out.. … … handcuffs! Mr. Dunahoo had not idea that Roger kept handcuffs in his office, but he was glad that he did and that Betty Sue knew.
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“Here, Mr. Dunahoo, take him into the office and cuff him to the chair directly across form where Principal Marsch sits. That chair is bolted to the foundation. I am going to get on the phone and call in the cavalry.” Betty Sue winks at Mr. Dunahoo, then speaks) “You got it, Mr. Dunahoo?” (he nods) “Good! Oh, and by the way. Mr. Dunahoo? Thank you! Form all the students and all the staff here at Smithville Middle School I would like to ‘Thank you!’ for everything you have done here today!”
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Truman is not sure just where Betty Sue’s newfound courage and strength came from, but he was very glad she found it… just in time. Truman took the handcuffs, grabbed Barry by the shoulder, and dragged him into the Principal’s inner office.
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He sat him in the chair directly across from Principal Marsch’s chair. He tries to lift the chair, tries to move the chair. Nope, it is not moving at all, Betty Sue was right, the chair is bolted to the foundation. He sits Barry in the chair, takes his right hand and puts one side of the cuffs around his right wrist. He makes sure it is very tight.
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Next, he places the other cuff around the bottom part of the chair frame, where it supports the seat and connects with the bottom of the frame. He snaps the left cuff, as tightly as it will go, around Barry’s left wrist. He grabs the chain of the cuffs and pulls as hard as he can. Nothing moves, Barry is not going anywhere! Just as soon as Barry realizes his situation, he starts loudly complaining and stands up! Only to be pulled down, directly, by his own shoulders. Barry falls, making painful noises, back in the seat, where he had started.
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“You can’t do this! I have RIGHTS! I am a MINOR… YOU cannot handcuff me to this chair! I HAVE rights!”
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Mr. Dunahoo, tired of Barry’s; whining, lying, and throwing fits. Truman pushes him down into the chair. He pushes him hard. Then he gets down eye level with Barry and talks directly at him.
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“Barry. You have just beat a fellow student, a young boy of ten or eleven years of age, nearly to death! Not just any student, either! Timmy Marref… the WHOLE Marref family are LOVED members of this community and you have put their son into the hospital. Now, you have only one choice. I can handcuff you to this chair, and lock you into this office, where you will be relatively SAFE. OR? Or, Mr. Gartuska, I can take you outside! Outside and turn you over to the, now forming, MOB! Yes, a MOB! A MOB looking for justice at the END OF A ROPE! So, you can SIT THERE… SHUT YOU F’ing MOUTH… and I will do my best to keep that MOB form stringing you up! Believe me when I tell you, Barry… I would rather turn you over to the BLOODTHIRSTY MOB! I KNEW Timmy… I LIKED Timmy Marref! Barry you just best PRAY that Timmy DOESN’T DIE! Doesn’t die BEFORE the sheriff gets here! Because IF they find out little Timmy Marref IS DEAD? Before the Sheriff can get you out of here??? Well, I just don’t think I can PROTECT you! Now SHUT UP!”
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Mr. Dunahoo checks the handcuffs, again, then leaves the room shutting and locking the door behind. Once in the outer waiting area, for the first time since this terrible incident started, Mr. Dunahoo sits down and puts his face in his hands. Puts his face in his hands, because he doesn’t want anyone see him cry.
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[youtube=http://youtu.be/7vKh0ReY620]
('The Horror in Smithville' Logo by Hanning Web Wurx)
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Well, My Dear Readers, what about That?!? I have to tell you all, that I really enjoy writing this story. Each and every day, that I spend time writing in this world? I really enjoy myself! The characters… are quite real to me, they live in my head. The setting? Reminds me of.. a place I used to call ‘Home’. The story? It is all original! I have never read anything like this story in my whole life, and I have read a considerable amount!
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Now… about OUR DEAL! Remember… $100 OR MORE into Danny’s Cancer Treatment Fund @ Indiegogo[1] BEFORE midnight and all of YOU My Dear Readers GET (in return) the NEXT HALF of THIS ‘Part 14-B’ of ‘The Horror in Smithville’ in a special edition tomorrow!
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Now, it is a good charity. I desperately need the money… to start with the ‘Staging’ of my cancer and to get the ball rolling with; chemotherapy and radiation therapy as is needed. I am willing to fight this cancer, My Dear Readers. However, I am a man... that lives ‘paycheck-to-paycheck’ and there is no wiggle room for cancer. That is harsh, but it is the truth. Now, I hope that everyone has enjoyed today’s episode of ‘The Horror in Smithville’.
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I look forward to seeing everyone here, tomorrow, for another great episode of ‘The Horror in Smithville’! I am so certain that somebody will make a donation that… just as soon as I get out of the bath. I am going to start writing the next section of ‘Part 14-B’!
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Adieu!
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Thank YOU!
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PLEASE DONATE to
Danny's Cancer Treatment Fund @ Indiegogo
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Danny in Rolling Hills Estates August 12, 2014[/caption]PLEASE GIVE!?!
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