The Horror in Smithville - Part - 14 - B - 2

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[caption id="attachment_2489" align="aligncenter" width="500"] The Horror in Smithville[/caption]

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Welcome back My Dear Readers to The Other Shoe. Let’s see, today I am going to share the very next chapter in my favorite and beloved horror classic ‘The Horror in Smithville’! Yes it has been a long time since I posted any of this story. To be exact the last time I posted anything of this story was on August 29^th, 2014! That is pretty much a whole month since we last checked in on our story in Smithville.

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The pages have been written, it is just that I have been so preoccupied with the (futile) attempt to gather funds to help me battle my recently diagnosed Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma Cancer. For those that have not been around, I am working a campaign (just as hard as I can) named Danny’s Cancer Treatment Fund @ Indiegogo to help me out with the costs of; treatment, medications, transportation, Caregivers, and everything involved in a battle with a lymphatic cancer. It has been an ‘uphill slog’ that has bore little, if any, fruit. With just a matter of days left I fear that I will be completely unable to resume treatment for my cancer.

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Regardless, if that is what my; friends, family, and followers deem as ‘my fate’ then so be it! Today we rejoin ‘The Horror in Smithville’ with Truman Dunahoo, Barry Gartuska, and Betty Sue in the Principal’s Office at Smithville Middle School. Barry has, just moments ago, finished beating Timmy Marref with within a inch of his life. Now, Tom, Archer and Timmy are in transit to the Smithville Hospital. Timmy is unconscious, but I have a ‘Good Feeling’ about his prognosis.

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Mr. Dunahoo has taken Barry to the Principal’s office in hopes of holding him until he can be arrested, and booked for, assault on Timmy Marref. There will be no shortage of witnesses, as a majority of the student body and a good number of teachers bore witness. Betty Sue is quite beside herself, and (at first) is of little help to Truman. Well, before I publish any ‘spoilers’ let’s get ‘On With The Show’!

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[caption id="attachment_3239" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The Horror in Smithville[/caption]

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Part Fourteen – B – 2

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Mr. Dunahoo, Truman, sat there for several minuets trying to cry… wanting to cry. In just the matter of an hour Truman had; seen one of his students beat to a bloody pulp, physically dragged the offending student to the Principal’s office, struck said student in the face (even though he had it coming, this gave Truman little solace), and handcuffed the violent student to a chair. As Truman sat there, thinking, it occurred to him that this oncoming storm had a curious effect ton many people. Batty Sue showed a spine of steel that she had never before shown, Barry Gartuska had nearly murdered a student, and he… HE had struck a student across the face without giving it a second thought. What was this town coming too?

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Truman had been sitting in the Principal’s office lobby chair for several moments, when he felt a warm hand on his left shoulder. He looked up, from his hands, and saw Betty Sue with a coffee cup in her hand. She brushed back the hair from his face, and handed the cup of coffee to Truman. Truman loved his coffee, he often drank ten to twelve cups a day. As he grabbed the cup from Betty Sue’s hands, he looked up at her with a new found respect.

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Truman had known Betty Sue since her first day as Roger’s secretary. She was a very nice person, often given to flights of fancy and had more than her fair share of difficulty with focus and authority. However, today he had seen something different in Betty Sue. Taking the cup of coffee, from her hands, Truman spoke.

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“Betty Sue, I just wanted to express my thanks for all your help with Barry, today. As well, I have to congratulate you on… well, your show of strength, earlier. I have known you as long as you have been Roger’s secretary, and never have I seen you ‘take charge’ the way you did, today. Kudos, Betty Sue!”

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She turned away too quickly for Truman to be sure, but he thought he had seen Betty Sue begin to blush. Blush at the compliment that Truman had just paid. She had earned that compliment… earned it and then some. She had overcome her fears, marshaled her inner strength, and helped Truman secure an unruly and potentially dangerous student. Potentially dangerous… Ha! Barry Gartuska had nearly killed a fellow student, in cold blood. Whatever fate befell Barry Gartuska, from this day forward, was none of Truman’s concern. What ever he got? He deserved!

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Batty Sue started speaking, just as Truman finished his thought.

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“Well, Truman, if it hadn’t been for your quick action, and strong hands, Barry might have gotten away. He might have hurt other people. You took command over the situation, brought a violent student right here to the office. And we worked together to detain the violent student before he had the chance to hurt anyone else. I am just glad that I remembered that we had those handcuffs…”

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“You did brilliantly, Betty Sue. I had no idea that Roger had handcuffs’ n this office! I am sure glad that he did! Oh, have you reached Roger yet, on his cell phone?

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Betty Sue looked down at her feet, and scuttled back behind her desk. She kept her head down, as she spoke.

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“Truman, I keep trying his number… but nobody answers. I have left several voice mails… and Roger has not called back… yet. I have called the Smithville memorial hospital. They have no record of Timmy being admitted... yet. I can only guess that they are still on their way to the hospital. I will keep trying to get Roger on the [hone…”

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Truman could clearly see that Betty Sue had become bothered by her inability to get Roger on the phone. Truman could see that this setback had caused Betty Sue to retreat, some, back into her old habits. Right now, he needed the other Betty Sue, and he thought he knew how to get her back. He took a long drink, from the cup of hot coffee. Man, Truman did love his coffee. If he’d had his way? He would just sit here and drink Roger’s office coffee, for about ah hour. Seems Roger uses a different brand of coffee, for his office than they have in the teacher’s lounge. Truman would talk to Roger about that, but right now he needed to help Betty Sue find her grit, again. Looking up from his coffee cup, at Betty Sue, Truman spoke in a clam and relaxed tone to Betty Sue.

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‘Betty Sue… tell me. Tell me what happened… earlier when you found your strength? What... what went though your mind... what brought you to that place?”

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Betty Sue sat behind her desk. She sat there for a moment, that it was obvious that she was working it out in her head. Then, Betty Sue spoke…

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“Well, I would have to give credit where credit is due, Truman. For months… years now Principal Marsch has been drilling the same thing… over, and over, and over into my head. He is always talking about (Truman and Betty Sue say this word together… simultaneously) ANARCHY!

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They both laugh… look at one another, then Betty Sue continues. As she does Truman can see her self-confidence return. This is exactly what he had wanted.

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“Roger is always talking about “Confusion leading to anarchy”. And, you know what Truman? Today I saw it! I saw it happening to me! As sure as if I was standing outside myself. For five years Roger has been harping on anarchy… and, Truman, today I SAW IT in myself! I did not like what I saw… nope, not at all! So, I thought about what Roger had told me, screwed up my courage, and took control of my own; emotions thoughts and actions. It felt great! I could ‘see’ what needed to be done, where things where and what to do in what order. Truman, I have never seen life so clearly!”

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Now Truman understood what he had witnessed, earlier. This is an ‘all new’ Betty Sue. New and improved, to say the least. He hadn’t been close with Betty Sue, since she started working for the school district, that was about to change. Truman just loved to support people making change in their lives, and Betty Sue was a prime example. Truman took another, long, drink from his coffee cup, then spoke.

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“Betty Sue, I am… well, I hope this doesn’t sound… odd… but I am very proud. Proud to see someone take such control over themselves, and in the midst of crisis, too! I am proud of you Betty Sue, and proud of how you handled yourself. You had best believe that I will be telling Roger all about how wonderfully you handled yourself in this... crisis. I would have never thought of handcuffing Barry to the chair in the other room. I didn’t know, till you told me, that chair was bolted to the foundation! I guess they did that just for circumstances like… this. It is troubling. Thinking that someone actually… foresaw something like this happening… in a Middle School.”

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As Truman said those words, in his mind images came flashing back. Images.. most upsetting. Images of poor Timmy Marref’s broken body. Images of Barry bouncing his head on the cold hard ground, and worst of all images of the red red blood mixing with the stark white snow. A shudder went right up Truman’s spine, and he thought that he might cry, all over again. Truman’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Betty Sue’s voice, she was talking to him, and she was very upset!

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“Truman… Truman! I just got off the phone with the Sheriff’s office. Sheriff Daniels is not there! I managed to talk to Deputy Henning. He told me that the Sheriff was headed out to the Carnival job site… too. That Darryl had tried to raise him, over the car radio, but wasn’t able to reach him. What should we do?”

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Truman sat, quietly, for a moment. Took a large sip off of the, now cold, coffee and thought. Things had to be getting pretty crowded “out to the Carnival job site…”. First, it was the Middle School Principal Roger Marsch getting called out there. Now it is the only Sheriff for the town of Smithville, Sheriff Walter Daniels. Next, nobody was able to get a hold of anyone once they left for the Carnival job site. Something was rotten in Denmark, at it lived at the Carnival job site! Truman knew enough law to know they had no right to hold a minor indefinitely. Especially one that was handcuffed to a chair bolted to the ground. Soon enough Barry would need to go to the bathroom… or something! Truman had transported Barry, once, he was not too fond of the idea of that happening again, today.

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Truman put his, empty, coffee cup on the corner of Betty Sue’s desk. Stood up, and decided it was time for him to make some calls and get things moving. There was a storm headed directly FOR Smithville and soon, nobody was going to be able to go anywhere! Truman turned to Betty Sue, and used his Command Voice for his next requests.

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“Betty Sue, I want you to write Principal Marsch’s number and the Sheriff’s office number on a notepad for me. While I am calling those numbers, I want you to get on the phone with the hospital, again. I want to KNOW if we have just the perpetrator of an assault locked in Ralph’s office… or do we have a murderer locked in there!”

Betty Sue wrote the two phone numbers on a sticky notepad, and handed them to Truman. They, both of them, began dialing numbers. Betty Sue was connected to the hospital, after a couple of rings, Truman was not having such ‘Good Luck’. Not wanting to disturb Betty Sue’s phone conversation, Truman stepped out into the hallway to make his phone calls. As soon as Truman stepped into the hallway, he noticed it. It wasn’t but four in the afternoon, but the hallway of the Middle School was dark like it was midnight. Truman hung up the phone. It was obvious that, whatever Principal Marsch was doing and wherever Roger had found himself, Roger was not answering.

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Truman decided to take a short walk, outside, to check out the weather and the oncoming snowstorm. He began dialing the number for the Sheriff’s office, hoping to finally reach Sheriff Daniels! No sooner that Truman had stepped out the door, that he noticed the sky and clouds. The sky was darkish blue, and the clouds completely covered the sky from horizon to horizon! The storm, that was on its way, was going to be a huge storm! By midnight tonight, they would be measuring the snow in feet and not inches!

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Truman was smelling the air when Deputy Henning answered the phone at the Sheriff’s office. The air smelled of something foul, it made the hackles on the back of Truman’s neck stand up on end. The voice, on the other end of the line, was familiar… and it sounded scared.

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“Smithville Sheriff’s office, Deputy Henning here. How may I help you?”

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Truman had met Deputy Henning on several occasions. Darryl was a mostly unremarkable man. He was of average height, average weight, an average build with unremarkable brown eyes. To be honest? The most remarkable and/or memorable aspect of Deputy Darryl? Was that Deputy Darryl was a Grade ‘A’ klutz! On the first occasion of him meeting the Deputy, Darryl had knocked a cup of coffee out of his (Truman’s) hand and caused it to end up in his lap! On the second occasion of them meeting, it was at the end of a PTA meeting where Deputy Darryl had given a talk to parents about ‘Finding out IF your Child is Using Drugs!’/ Deputy Darryl had knocked over a whole table of refreshments! His gun holster had caught on the table cloth, on which all the foods, snacks, cake and sandwiches were spread, and Deputy Darryl had dragged all the food on to the floor!

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The third and last meeting he had with Deputy Darryl was when he had pulled Truman over for a “busted headlight”. Truman had known that the taillight was not working, properly. However, it still came on, for a time, and then would not work. If he pumped his brake, for awhile, the light usually came on for the rest of any given trip. When he was pulled over Truman explained that fact to Deputy Darryl. Well Darryl, in his infinite wisdom, decided it “must just be a loose wire… let me knock on the light cover and see if I can get it working… so I don’t have to give you a ticket”. Darryl went back, removed his extra large and long flashlight from his gun belt. Then Deputy Darryl went about tapping the gel cover on the brake signal. The next thing Truman knew? He was standing beside Deputy Darryl at the rear of his car and the (expensive) cover over the left back brake light lay in pieces on the ground!

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“I won’t give you a ticket, tonight, Mr. Dunahoo. Just get that tail light fixed. OK?”

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It cost Truman $150.00 to “get that tail light fixed…” because of Deputy Darryl. That was a lot more than the cost of the light bulb, which was all that was wrong with the brake indicator. Truman had sent a copy of the paid invoice for the broken tail light, but had never heard back from Deputy Darryl or Sheriff Daniels. All Truman knew was that he was glad that Timmy was already gone before Deputy Darryl came out to the Middle School. Now, Truman was inviting disaster by trying to get Deputy Darryl out to pick up Barry, but something had to be done.

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“Deputy Darryl? This is Mr. Truman Dunahoo… at the Middle School? I don’t know if you have heard from Sheriff Daniels.. but we need someone out her to pick up Barry Gartuska. Barry is the student that beat Timmy Marref to the point he is on his w3ay to the hospital. Now, we need somebody from the Sheriff’s office to come and pick up Barry.. BEFORE this snow storm hits!”

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Truman was surprised by the pregnant pause that came after him speaking. Truman stood there, outside in the freezing cold, waiting for Deputy Darryl to answer. He heard nothing, finally Truman repeated himself, even louder.

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“Deputy Darryl? Do you hear me, Deputy Darryl? This is Truman Dunahoo… Teacher over to the Middle School? We are holding Barry Gartuska, and we need someone from your offices to come and pick him up! We do not have the facilities to hold students… indefinitely. Do you hear me, Deputy Darryl? Do you understand me Deputy Darryl?”

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Truman was sure that Deputy Darryl had heard him that time. People over at the end of the parking lot, had heard Truman… and were waving at Truman. Truman didn’t have to wait long, this time, for Deputy Darryl to answer this time.

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“Yes, Truman… I remember you! You are the English and Drama teacher at the Middle School, correct? You say you are holding the boy that beat up Timmy Marref? OK... I understand. No, you are right you shouldn’t be holding be holding a murderer there at the Middle School! I am the only one here, right now. Sheriff Daniels is out on a call, all that is left is Linda, our dispatcher, and me! I really shouldn’t be leaving Linda here alone… but I don’t see as I have a choice, right now. You are right. You don’t have the ability to hold a violent criminal, and we need to get him… locked up BEFORE this snowstorm hits Smithville! Truman, just hold on to him for another 10 to 15 minuets. I am leaving NOW! I will get there as quickly as I can to pick up the offender… just keep him locked up, and I will be right there…”

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“Murderer?” Truman thought to himself. Last he had heard was that Timmy had not even made it to the hospital. Now… Timmy Marref… was DEAD?!? Truman tried to ask Deputy Darryl to repeat what he had said, but the phone was disconnected before he got the chance. This was a bad turn of events. This was a very bad turn of events. Truman and Betty Sue were now holding a pre-teen murderer handcuffed to a chair in Principal Marsch’s office! That changed everything! Truman had not smoked a cigarette in more than ten years. Right now, Truman wished he had a cigarette to smoke! Truman was unnerved, he needed some time to think… and unwind before he went back into the office and told Betty Sue. Told Betty Sue that litte Timmy Marref was dead!

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Truman decided to try calling Principal Marsh’s cell phone, again. He was quite cold, so he started walking around the teacher’s parking lot, as he dialed the number, and let it ring and ring. The funniest thing happened, as Truman was walking around letting Roger’s cell phone ring. Truman heard a cell phone… ringing! JUST as Truman realized that his phone was ringing in his ear, that outside he as hearing another phone… ringing! The call went to voice mail, as Truman had already left several voice mails for Principal Marsch, Truman hung up. He immediately called Principal Marsch’s phone, again.

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Ring… Ring (in his ear)… Then, all the sudden, Truman hears another phone… ringing just a few feet away from him! Truman leans down, close to the ground, and tries to see the phone that is ringing. There is already several inches on snow, on the ground, which is making it more difficult for Truman to locate the ringing phone. Again, the phone goes over to voice mail and, again, Truman calls the number back. This time Truman was much closer to the phone on the ground. Within in two rings Truman is nearly on top of the phone he is calling. Then, it switches over to voice mail.

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Truman dials Principal Marsch’s phone fro, what he hopes to be, the last time. Truman is on his hands and knees, now, and as soon as the phone begins to ring, Truman begins sweeping snow out of the way. In one of the big sweeps, Truman’s hand knocks something back up against the rear tire. BINGO! Truman hangs up his phone and heads to the rear left tire. He reaches around the tire, and grasps something in his hand. It is small, cold, and in a leather case. Just like Principal Marsch’s phone is kept, in a leather case.

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Truman picks the item up, brushes off the snow, and sees that he has Principal Marsch’s phone in his hands! He takes the phone out of the leather case, pushes the power button on the right side. Right under the time and weather he sees the ‘Return if Found’ information. It is Roger Marsch’s cell phone, and it has ten missed calls. Truman’s heart fell into his stomach, because he knew that they were not going to be able to get a hold of, or talk to, Principal Marsch until he returned from the Carnival Job site. This was not ‘Good News’ at all! Truman put the phone back into its leather case, and put the case into his front pants pocket. As he did this, again, Truman had an irresistible urge to smoke a cigarette.

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He wasn’t going to fall for the impulse, but it was disturbing that it was happening now, after a decade of not smoking. He walked back into the Middle School, and headed to Principal Marsch’s office. He was sure that Betty Sue would be as crestfallen, by his discovery in the teacher’s parking lot, as he was. It was only 5:00PM but Truman just could not wait till this day was over! Now Truman had to go into that office and tell the very sweet secretary, Betty Sue, that; Timmy Marref was dead, that a murderer was locked in Roger’s office, and that Principal Marsch had left his cell phone in the teacher’s parking lot. Probably he missed clipping the cell phone case to his belt, and never even thought about it until he went to use his cell phone. BOY! Truman thought to himself, BOY I sure hope that it wasn’t an emergency when Roger reached for his missing cell phone! That would be terrible!

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Betty Sue was on the phone, when Truman walked in through the Principal’s office door. He sat down, right where he had left the empty coffee cup, and waited for Betty Sue to get off the phone. The ‘Bad News’ he had to share could wait a few minuets more. After waiting for several moments, Truman got up and went over to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. Well, this coffee had been sitting here since this morning… so (realistically) fresh was not a correct adjective to be using. Nevertheless, Truman loved coffee and the brand that Principal Marsch had chosen for his office was better cold than what they picked out for the teacher’s break room was hot.

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With full cup of coffee in hand, Truman turned around to see Betty Sue hanging up the phone. The time had come, Truman reached into his front pants pocket and pulled out Roger’s cell phone. He held up the phone and began speaking to Betty Sue. They ended up speaking to each other, at the same time.

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“Betty Sue I just found Roger’s cell phone…”

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“Truman I just got off the phone with the hospital and…”

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Both Truman and Betty Sue now, simultaneously, begin laughing. The stress of the day, the injury of Timmy (maybe the death of Timmy), the physical confrontation with Barry Gartuska, the suspense of the oncoming blizzard, and it being well after when they usually lave the campus caused Truman and Betty Sue to engage in a very long and intense bout of laughing. Once complete, Truman (again) held up Principal Marsch’s phone and explained how and where he had found it. Betty Sue sighed and lowered her head, it was plainly visible that she was upset that Principal Marsch was out therewith no way of calling them, and no way for them to call him.

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Truman was about to relay the… information Deputy Darryl had shared about Timmy’s condition, when Betty Sue spoke.

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“Well, I finally got ahold of the hospital, Truman…”

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Before she could finish the sentence Truman spoke…

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“I am so sorry that you had to hear, that way Betty Sue. I found out while I was in the parking lot talking to Deputy Darryl. This is the worst possible news for the Marref family!’

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Betty Sue cocked her head sideways, the way dogs do sometimes when they are curious or confused. She shook her head, and then spoke to Truman.

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“Truman, I just talked to an orderly over to the hospital. He told me that Timmy, Tom and Archer had just arrived. That Timmy was conscious but awaiting examination, x-rays, and an MRI of his head. They said he was awake and talkative. Seems Timmy is going to be just fine!”

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Truman, at first, didn’t say a word. He just stood there, slightly embarrassed, thinking ‘Deputy Darryl Strikes AGAIN! He smiled, then laughed under his breath. Shaking his head, Truman spoke. He explained how Deputy Darryl had told him “Timmy’s dead” and how he did not want to be the one to tell her. They both stood/sat there, for a moment, and then broke out into laughter, again. Truman walked around to the front of the desk. As he did so, Truman smelled something… burning! Truman was standing directly in front of the only door leading into the inner office, Principal Marsch’s private office. The room where, cigarette smoking, Barry Gartuska was handcuffed to a chair bolted to the foundation. Nevertheless, Truman walked up against the door and called out to Barry inside.

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“Barry Gartuska… are you smoking in there?!?!”

Truman waited a couple of moments, then he repeated himself even louder.

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“Barry Gartuska, are YOU smoking in that office? Answer me!”

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No answer, but the smell of… burning was growing STRONGER! Truman was going to have to open the door and find out for himself. He had to be careful, though, if Barry had.. somehow gotten out of his restraints? He could ambush Truman as he entered the room. Truman’s day had just gone from ‘Bad’ to “Worse’. Truman turned back to Betty Sue and…

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“Betty Sue , hand me the keys, again. I have to check and see if this reprobate is trying to burn the building down! I am just concerned that he might be out of his restraints… and he might try to ambush me... when I enter!”

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Betty Sue open the top center drawer to her desk, removed the key chain and handed it to Truman. Then, Betty Sue reached back into the drawer and pulled out a very formidable looking letter opener. She got out of her chair, walked around the desk and took up a position right between Truman, and the door. If Barry was going to try something, then he was going to have two people to get through!

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[youtube=http://youtu.be/7vKh0ReY620]

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My Dear Readers! WOW! So, we have Barry handcuffed to a chair that is BOLTED to the FOUNDATION… Betty Sue and Truman think TIMMY IS DEAD… and Barry is fixing to get a very… SPECIAL visitor, next week. ;)

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You just read eight pages of my story. Eight pages, single spaced with a 12p font! Like I said, in earlier posts, I still have another… ten to twelve pages left! That is written, unedited, and ready to be proofed then published! OMG! The next scene (Part – 14- B – 3) is just frigging incredible! I have been ‘planting seeds’ all through the first 128 pages (FYI what I have published, so far, IS 128 pages!). Now, in the upcoming chapters I will be reaping what I have sewn. I, already, know how this all ends. I know what happens with Timmy after his savage beating… what happens (at the Carnival) on Saturday night… and what happens to Archer… OMG! What happens to ARCHER! INCREDIBLE!!!

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So, My Dear Readers, stick around as we approach Halloween I will be unfolding this tale and scaring the Dickens Out Of YOU!

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Adieu!

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Thank YOU!
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[caption id="attachment_3338" align="aligncenter" width="225"] Danny in Rolling Hills Estates August 12, 2014[/caption]

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The Horror in Smithville - Part 14 - B

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[caption id="attachment_2489" align="aligncenter" width="500"] The Horror in Smithville[/caption]

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Welcome back My Dear Readers to The Other Shoe. Today is Friday August 28^th, 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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[caption id="attachment_3239" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The Horror in Smithville[/caption]

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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 6^th 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

[caption id="attachment_3338" align="aligncenter" width="225"] Danny in Rolling Hills Estates August 12, 2014[/caption]

PLEASE GIVE!?!

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© 2010 – 2014 Hanning Web Wurx and The Other Shoe

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[1]https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/danny-s-cancer-treatment-fund/x/753895

The Horror in Smithville - Part 14-A

[caption id="attachment_2489" align="aligncenter" width="500"] The Horror in Smithville[/caption]

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Welcome back My Dear Readers to The Other Shoe. Today I have a very special treat for your reading pleasure. Today, we return to the Main Story of ‘The Horror in Smithville’! That’s right, we had just left Ralph Simner on his way to the Carnival work site. With a big smile on his face, he drove to the Carnival work site. He had just connected with his son, Archer, in the most meaningful way in months. His wife, he had seen her smile and felt sure that she would soon see him in a different… a better light. For the very first time in many years, Ralph Simner, was moving in the right direction and so was his life. He just felt sure!

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We are not done with Ralph Simner or with the ‘Missing Chapters’ of ‘The Horror in Smithville’. It is just that we have arrived at where the ‘Missing Chapter’ ended, and we have returned to the main story line. We will return to Ralph Simner, in due time. We are far from done with Ralph Simner… far from done… indeed!

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My Dear Readers, when we last were with the ‘Main Story Line’ Timmy had received a brutal beating at the hands of Barry Gartuska. Timmy’s father had rescued Timmy, and now Timmy’s head lay in Archer’s lap in the back seat of Tom’s truck. Tom had pealed out of the Middle School parking lot, creating great clouds of smoke, as he left. Many had noticed that these clouds of smoke, coming from the back tires of his truck, had formed (what looked like) great wings of an angel! It looked like the truck had sprouted wings of an angel, and that angel was taking Timmy to the hospital.

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Now, you might not have noticed but before Tom had scooped up his son’s broken body? Archer could have sworn that he saw Mr. Champion leaning over Timmy. Leaning over Timmy… and doing something. Doing something with his hands… and his hands seemed to glow GOLDEN. Tom Timmy and Archer are all in the truck and headed to the hospital to get Timmy the medical treatment he so obviously needs.

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Now, My Dear Readers, we are about to start with Part (Chapter or Episode) Fourteen! However, there is a trick with this chapter. A trick that has caused the delay in the publication of the next twenty to thirty pages of ‘The Horror in Smithville’. Part (or Chapter or Episode) Fourteen comes in FIVE PARTS! That’s right, one chapter in five parts. They will be designated 14; A, B, C, D, and E. Today we will start with Part 14A. Now, My Dear Readers, all of the five… sections of Part 14 ALL happen at the same time! That is correct! The next five weekly episodes of ‘The Horror in Smithville’ happen (in the story world) SIMULTANEOUSLY!

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Starting with Part 14 A, which actually this scene starts just shortly before Timmy and Archer head to the bus stop at the back of the Middle School. So, by the end of this section we will be back at the moment that Tom, Timmy and Archer are all headed to the hospital. However, My Dear Readers, when I start Part 14 B? We will run the clock back to the point in time where 14 A started. So, you see My Dear Readers, all of the five (A,B,C,D,E) ALL begin at the same time… and end at roughly the same time. THAT is WHY I have made them all #14. Think of them as five different ‘Time-Lines’ or five different threads that all end at the same point in time.

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Now, My Dear Readers, I think you can better understand the reason for the delay in publication. I have been struggling with these five different ‘timelines’ and how to get them all to meet at the same time. I really love this novel. It has been such a challenge to me as; a writer, a publisher, a creative person, and as the narrator of this story. When I started this story, now six months ago, I had no idea! No idea just how this work would challenge my abilities as a writer, as a publisher and as an editor. Honestly? When I first imagined this work? I saw it more as a novella. Just about 70-100 pages with a handful of settings and even fewer characters.

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Now? Now, My Dear Readers, I can clearly see that there was no way I could have put everything that was bound to happen in this story. Into the very small format I had first envisioned. That does not mean that this work has, somehow, outgrown the writer. It does not mean that the story has run away with me. What it does mean? It means that the work that I am sharing has so much more to give and share than I first imagined or thought.

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That the characters have so much more to give. That the plot has so much more to share, and that the story is LARGER than I had ever imagined. Now, sitting here and explaining this wonderfully imaginative ‘Part 14’ I can clearly see that ‘The Horror in Smithville’ has refused to be confined by my initial impressions. You have no idea just how happy that makes me. As a writer, as a person of creativity, and as a publisher. This is the ‘Gift That Keeps On Giving’! Now that I have the final half of this story past outline? I have been able to see even further!

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I am going to try not to ‘spoil’ it for anyone? But… I would not be very much surprised… IF… Timmy and Archer didn’t find themselves in some kind of… ‘Christmas Adventure’!

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Now, without further adieu? I give you ‘The Horror in Smithville’ Part 14A!

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[caption id="attachment_3239" align="aligncenter" width="300"] The Horror in Smithville[/caption]

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Part 14-A

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Principal Roger Marsch was a dour man. The son of a farmer, and a farmer before that, and a farmer before that; Roger Marsch had broken a multigenerational line of farmers to become the principal of the middle school in the town of farmers named Smithville. Principal Marsch had worked very hard, in high school, to get a football scholarship to go to college. After a terrible knee injury, and ACL Tear, in his sophomore year Roger Marsch devoted himself to a career in education.

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Roger Marsch started his career in higher education as a physical education and health teacher at Smithville High. He became very active with the local PTA, Cub Scout troop (then Boy Scouts), and recently ran for, and won, a seat on the city Council of the city of Smithville. Some might say it that been a rise from mediocrity to mediocrity, however, for Roger Marsch it was a major step up from multigenerational farmer. It was for just the past two years that Principal Marsch had worn both the hat of Middle School Principal and City Council Member.

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It was the latter of the two hats, sitting city council member, which drew him away from his office at the Middle School on this stormy Thursday. Shortly after his announcement to the entire school, not something he usually did or was very comfortable with, a call came in to his office. His secretary, Betty Sue, had originally taken the call. Betty Sue was also a student of Smithville schools, before can becoming secretary; as such Betty Sue often overreacted to minor problems. The oncoming snowstorm had put Betty Sue in a frantic frame of mind; the unknown voice on the other side of the phone had just pushed her frantic mind into frightened.

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Principal Marsch was looking over the current month’s school budget, when a frantic frightened Betty Sue came knocking on his office door. Either out of fear, or because she totally forgot Principal Marsch’s repeatedly telling her you cannot just walk into his office, Betty Sue burst and a Principal Marsch’s office.

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“ROGER… ROGER, there’s a problem at the Carnival site… there is a Mr. Dark on the phone for you. He says that you need to come out there, right away!”

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Principal Marsch really disliked the habit Betty Sue had of bursting into his office, not waiting to be invited in. ‘Roger’ admittedly believed that order and discipline were a necessity without which he was convinced, the Middle School and the town could/would fall into disarray and then total anarchy. Roger Marsch did not want anarchy in his school. He slowly rose his eyes up from his paperwork, slowly tapping the fingers of his left hand as he engaged Betty Sue’s anxious glare.

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“Betty Sue…” Principal Marsch said in a calm dulcet tone. “Just how many times have I asked you to wait for me to say “Enter” before bursting into my office? Ten times… twenty times… one hundred times?”

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Betty Sue began to blush. If truth be told it would have been more like two hundred times… but this time was different. The voice on the phone it… sounded so ‘in charge’ and it demanded to speak to Principal Marsh “immediately”. There was a problem out at the site for this weekend’s Carnival. Did Principal Marsch really think that she should stand, waiting, outside his door for something like this? Betty Sue opened her mouth, to explain….

“A lot of times, Principal Marsch, but this time… the man on the phone… a Mr. Dark. He says that there is a real problem out at the site for the carnival! Do you really want me to just stand outside your door… when there is an obvious emergency?”

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Roger’s mind wandered, when Betty Sue said “out at the site…” He flashed onto boyhood memories… “Lassie… there is a problem out at the mill!” He laughed, ever so lightly and under his breath, and then launched into a well-memorized speech he had created just for Betty Sue.

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“Betty Sue… there is always going to be: a problem at the Carnival site, a problem with a teacher, a problem with a student, a problem with a parent. That is the nature of my job, handling the problems. Now, if we let ourselves get drawn into emotions? We will soon find ourselves in disarray. Once we are in disarray, confusion soon follows. Once in a state of confusion… what is next, Betty Sue?”

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Without even thinking, Betty Sue responded

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“In anarchy. We find ourselves in anarchy, Principal Marsch.”

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Still speaking in a calm and dulcet tone, Principal Marsch continued with the lesson.

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“That’s correct, Ms. Martins. Anarchy. Now, I will not allow anarchy to gain a foothold in this, my, office. Now, go back outside the door. Knock. Wait for me to answer. Then come into my office and explain, calmly; who is on the phone for me and why they are calling. Leave the evaluation of the situation to me. Understood, Ms. Martins?”

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Beatty Sue Martins was not used to be talked to, this way. Principal Marsch told her that he used “calm and dulcet (she actually had to look-up dulcet in the dictionary) tones to speak to her. ‘Calm and dulcet to keep away the confusion and hold anarchy at bay…’ Yet, as far as Betty Sue was concerned? His ‘calm and dulcet tone(s)’ often boarded on insulting and condescending, like right now.

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Betty Sue walked out of the office, closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath. As she did this, she heard the deep and worrisome voice, on the other end of the line, asking “What the heck is going on? Am I on hold? Who’s voices am I hearing? Is someone going to answer this call, there is a real situation out here! Dang it, what is the holdup?”

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Betty Sue just thought to herself “Well, dark and commanding voice on the phone? You are just going to have to wait for Mr. Principal Marsch to; answer his door, be briefed on the phone call, pick up his extension in his office, and then (maybe) you will get some help!’ That was just how things happened in the office of Principal ‘Stick-Up-His-Butt’ Marsch’! Betty Sue, calmly and gently, knocked no the Principal’s office door. Three knocks, no more and no less. She waited to hear the voice of Principal Marsch to answer.

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“Who is it?” Ok… that was just too frigging much! He gal-darn knew WHO is it…

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“It’s Betty Sue, Principal Marsch. There is an urgent phone call for you, from the Carnival site. Would you like to take the call, Sir?”

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Let little anal-retentive Principal Marsch find fault in that! Much to the surprise of Betty Sue, Principal Marsch came to the door, opened the door, and spoke to Betty Sue.

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“That is much better, Betty Sue. Thank you. Now, please put the phone call on hold… as you should have before coming to my door and knocking, and I will take the call in my office. Thank you.”

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With that, Principal Marsch closed the door behind him. He walked over to his desk, sat down behind his desk, took out a notepad of paper from his side desk drawer, opened the top center desk drawer, removed a pen from the drawer and readied himself to take notes on the phone call he was about to answer. There just is no way Principal Roger Marsch was going to allow; disorder, confusion and anarchy into his life or his office. Now readied with pen in hand and paper beneath the pen, Principal Roger Marsch calmly answered the phone call.

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“This is Principal Roger Marsch. To whom am I speaking?”

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“What the heck is going on in your office? We have an emergency out here! I got a worker down… and I need someone out here, right the heck NOW!”

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Roger… was taken back, slightly. He took a deep breath… held it… then, let it out. Then, Principal Roger Marsch began making notes; with his pen in hand on the notepad he had taken out. ‘Problem at Carnival site. Worked “down”. Then, and only then, Principal Roger Marsch continued by asking another question.

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“To whom am I speaking, and what do you mean by ‘worker down’?”

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Principal Marsch heard several expletives, from the voice on the other side of the phone. Obviously there was confusion, at the Carnival work site. It sounded as though anarchy was not far behind. Regardless, Principal Roger Marsch was not going to allow this confusion and (potential) anarchy crawl through the telephone line and enter his office. The voice on the phone answered.

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“I don’t know what the heck is wrong with you Principal Marsch… are you also City Council Member Roger Marsch? I am the foreman for Mr. Dark here at the Carnival work site. Mr. Dark, the owner of the carnival and man-in-charge out here, just told me to call Principal Marsch and/or City Councilman Marsch and tell him to get out here ASAP! There has been an accident here on the job site. A worker has been… injured… and we need someone from the City Council Committee that is in charge of this project. Are you that man? If so… you need to get your butt out here, like, right now!”

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Principal Marsch took another, deep breath right into the phone receiver. Holding the phone in his right hand, and taking notes with his left, Principal Marsch wrote some more on his notepad. Took another deep breath, held it, then let it out. Then he spoke, again in calm and dulcet tones.

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“Again, what is YOUR name? What has happened to the worker? Where is Mr. Dark? If there is an injured worker? Why are you calling me and not 911?”
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No way was this construction worker going to unnerve Principal (and City Council Member) Roger Marsch! Roger was holding his pen, ready to take down more information, when something happened that (actually) shocked Principal Marsch.

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“You know… Principal Marsch… I do not know what your problem is? But, as far as the worker goes? It is too late for 911. Now, I was told to call and tell you that there is a situation, here at the job site for the Carnival, and that you need to get out here, like, NOW! Other than that? I am done! I have too much on my flipp’n plate to deal with some guy more hung up over procedure than getting something done. So, THERE! You have been informed. I am done wit you!”

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With that, the caller hung up the phone and Principal Roger Marsch was left holding the phone. Roger looked down at the notepad he had been making notes on; worker ‘dead?’… Mr. Dark? ... No ‘need’ to call 911… need you out here right now! Today was not turning out the way he had planned. First, it was the oncoming snowstorm. Next, HE had to make the announcement to the students. TWO of his staff were ‘missing’. Now, this! His heart began to race. Sweat began to form on his forehead and upper lip. As he reached over to take a drink from his coffee, he noticed that his left hand was shaking.

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How had this happened? Confusion had found its way into his office. Was anarchy close behind? Quickly, Principal Marsch made two decisions. First, he was going out to the work site and see for himself just exactly WHAT was going on. 2) He was not going to show Betty Sue he was shaken by this, and he was not going to answer any of her dumb questions. Roger Marsch stood up, put on his suit jacket, walked over to the coat rack, took down his heavy jacket and umbrella. He put his overcoat on over his suit jacket.

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Walked over to the full-length mirror, in the corner of his office, straightened his; tie, suit jacket and overcoat. Clipped his cell phone to his belt. Not noticing that in his… upset frame of mind that the cellular phone clip had missed his belt and fallen silently to the carpeted floor beside his left foot. Roger Marsch did not notice this slip up, and because of that later today when he needed his cell phone (needed it more than at any point previously in his life) it would not be there. (Later, he would think that anarchy was to blame why he did not have his cell phone).

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Now, with all his clothes in proper order, Principal (City Council Member) Roger Marsch as ready to proceed to the Carnival job site, coincidently the carnival job site was also the farm he was raised on. Home, and farm, to four generations of ‘Marsch Farmers’ the site was now property of the City of Smithville and frequently used for; Carnivals, Fairs, Scout Camp-Outs, and any other odd thing the City held that could not be accommodated by the City Hall Auditorium. Roger Marsch was headed out to his old homestead to find out if a worker had just been injured, or was dead. The whole drive out there, Principal Marsch would think and think on just how this day had managed to get under his skin and out of his control.

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Roger opened the door to his office. No sooner than he had opened the door, and before he even set foot into the waiting room. From the secretary’s desk Betty Sue started questioning Principal Marsch.

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“So, what happened Roger? Is somebody hurt? Should I call for an ambulance to be sent to the job site? Should I call the Sheriff, have him meet you out there? Are you ‘ok’ Principal Marsch?”

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Roger just hated the way Betty Sue could string a dozen questions into just one sentence. (It must have some as some great relief, Roger Marsch thought to himself, the day that Betty Sue moved out of her family home. A great relief to all her family!) As if to make them all ‘one question’. A great many things bothered Principal Marsch about Betty Sue. He wished that either she would stop ‘being Betty Sue’. Or, barring that, he wished that all those ‘ticks’ would never bother him, again. Little did Roger know, leaving his office and the Middle School campus that morning, by the end of the day? Principal/City council Member Roger Marsch would have his wish… granted. Without missing a beat, Principal Roger Marsch turned to Betty Sue and said one sentence.

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“Secretary Betty Sue I will be on my cellular phone if there is an emergency, I am leaving for the Carnival job site. Good Bye.”

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With that, Roger Marsch left his office and headed to his car. Once outside, Roger noticed that the snowstorm was ahead of schedule. It was only 11:30AM and, already, large snowflakes were falling, and sticking to the cold ground. 11:30, that meant that the children were gathering at the back of the school, behind the gymnasium, boarding buses to head home for a long (three-day) weekend. It was very smart, sending the children home as early as he did. Most of them would be home, in the warm safe houses, before the heavy snow started. Regardless of whatever happened, the rest of the day, Principal Roger Marsch had acted quickly and responsibly to get his students home safe.

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Just as Principal Roger Marsch guided his car out of the Middle School teacher’s_ parking lot, Barry Gartuska was bouncing Timmy Marref’s head on the cold hard concrete. Bouncie, bounce, bounce, bounce.

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Little did he know, that his whole world was about to spiral out-of-control and that anarchy would take charge. Principal Roger Marsch turned off the side street the Middle School was located, and out onto FM 518, headed to his old home… and the site for ‘Smithville’s City Council Sponsored Harvest Festival and Haunted House’. Roger Marsch turned on his favorite radio station, the Classical station broadcast by the University, that he donated $500 to every year at Christmas. Regardless of what lay ahead of him? Roger Marsch was going to enjoy some dulcet tones of Classical music, first. The snow was now building up on the windshield of this car. He reached down and turned the turn-indicator/wiper-control on. He pushed the button, on the end of the stick.

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Water came flowing out of the wiper assembly, melting the snow on contact, and wiped his front windshield completely clean,. Whatever was ahead of him, at the old Marsch Farm, he was going to enjoy some Classical Music and his window would be clean and free from snow. Life was simple, really, and it was meant to be simple… to be enjoyed. He leaned back into the driver’s seat, relaxed and turned on the Cruise Control for the ten-mile drive out to the old Marsch Farm. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony started, in the background. It was one of Roger’s favorite. He took a deep breath. Let it out, slowly, and relaxed.

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[youtube=http://youtu.be/7vKh0ReY620]

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Now, we have arrived at the same point in time as when we left the ‘Main Story Line’ for the ‘Missing Chapters’. See just how this is all fitting together? Like cogs in two wheels, meshing and connecting. Creating one stronger, than the two divided. Once I have shared all of the FIVE (A.B,C,D,E) you will see just how they all ‘happened at the same time’! Simultaneous scenes all part of one point in time. Our first of the five of the threads is Roger Marsch.

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We leave Roger Marsch, for the moment, listening to classical music as he drives out to the carnival work site (coincidently his old home). Next week? I will share ‘Part 14 B’! I am not going to give any; spoiler, hints, or clues as to what is coming next. However, I will tell you, My Dear Readers, that the pages are already written! That’s right! I have already finished writing; 14B, 14C and 14D. All that is left is for me to proof the pages, edit out any mistakes and make sure that all the edges fit together… with one another.

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My Dear Readers, by the time we are done with 14E? We will return to; Tom, Timmy and Archer in the truck and headed to the hospital. ‘Part 15’ will take us to the moment we left off at the end of ‘Part 13’! You will find out what is to happen with Timmy and his injuries. What lies ahead for Timmy and Archer, and just how all the five threads started in the ‘Parts 14’ all fit together like cogs in a wheel. They will mesh and fit just so exactly, My Dear Readers, that you will understand the ‘Method in my Madness’. When I started this story I wanted a challenge. I wanted to try and test my abilities as a creative writer. As well, as this was my first real venture into the genre of horror?

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I wanted to see if I could use/work this genre in a way that I was able to stretch my abilities as a writer, and my creativity. I hope that all of you, My Dear Readers, enjoy this work. I hope that you are just as excited by what is to come… as I am! It is encouraging… that, as I am engaged in this wonderful story and stretching my creative abilities with this work. I am also beginning my fight against CANCER! It is fitting that as our heroes; Timmy and Archer fight the forces of evil in Mr. Dark. I, too, am fighting the forces of evil… in cancer!

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“Oh, what a tangled web we weave!”

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Adieu!

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[caption id="attachment_3338" align="aligncenter" width="225"] Danny in Rolling Hills Estates August 12, 2014[/caption]

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