Revenge, Inc: Part 6: A Short Story
Hello everyone and welcome. I'm sure that you want to get to the story already, but before you do, I just want to say that this installment was by far the most difficult for me to write for a number of reasons. One of the reasons was attributed to what many writers call, "Writer's Block." I went out for a number of walks, jogged my mind about the story entirely and just brainstormed the entire story over and over again until I thought I got it right then sat down and got into "character." Again, I thank you for your devotion and interest pertaining to this story. I wouldn't have as much motivation to write this without it. I thank you and I hope to see you next Friday for when Part 7 is published.
If you haven't already, please read this series from it's beginning:
"Good service, father."
"No man should ever have to bury his child, Peter. It goes against the natural order of the world."
"I wholly agree. At least Cody was able to avoid having to endure it."
"But it is those that remain on this world that must suffer the pain of loss."
"I am sorry about Haley, Father. I loved her like my own. Whoever did that to her... I can see why Cody or any other father for that matter, would be brimming with absolute rage."
"Violence is not the answer. It is never is. After all, ' An eye for an eye turns the whole world blind...'"
"But aren't you angry, Frank? Don't you want justice from this?"
"Yes, of course I do. I loved my grand daughter very much, just as much as any grand father would love his grand daughter. But I refuse to be consumed by hate. I asked the Holy Father to give me the strength to expel such thoughts of complete and utter hatred and vengeance. Forgiveness is the key here. Too many of us in this world are so quick to pass judgment...That is not His way."
“Are you so quick to forgive the crimes of the wicked?”
“Whoever said I’d forgiven him yet? No. I have yet to forgive…Let me stop before I say something I’ll regret later on. I joined the congregation in order to control such thoughts. It is my belief that in the eyes of the Lord, there is a purpose and a reason for the things that do occur, however extreme or confusing it may be, including Leslie's cancer. Understand, this is not only my belief but His plan as well. Many of my questions have not been answered, but rest assured, His answers don't always come in the form that we come to expect. Now tell me—what have you done to my son?”
Damn. I hope I never have to die again. Having to remain still for just an hour felt like an eternity. Never mind the plain fact that death is forever, or that you go to heaven, or hell, or come back as toilet bowl, if that's what you believe. Whatever. To me, death was a lot of wasted tears that causes more suffering for the bereaved...The funny thing about death is that you never really know if that person would have shown up at your funeral, or cried, or brought you flowers or rice-crispy snacks (if that's what you prefer, like me, but who's ever heard of a guy eating as his own funeral?).
Ultimate Going Away party, what would you want? So you can't know,
because you're dead and aint' that a bitch? And it's not like you can
cry for them too in return and out of courtesy when it's their turn to croak--that is unless you're me. I got to see everyone who gave a shit for poor
old me. I’d of cried too, were it not that I wasn’t so
damn busy playing dead like Fido. But I’ll bet my everlasting soul that the majority of those tears were for Haley and not for
me. She’s the one that's dead
for real and she can’t be brought back. I'd give my own life just so she could live a full one.
You should’ve read the headlines that day. It made front page news the day after I died. The Valhalla Journal was good about splashing both Haley and I on it’s front page, which heading read: “Double Tragedy. Daughter homicide, father suicide.” The story was an entire three pages in which begins with Adrianna’s death after giving birth to Haley all the way up to my supposed emotional collapse from losing everything and ending it with me swinging like a pendulum from a cross-beam in my own home. What a wonderful world we live in. What a wonderful fucking mess.
Haley’s picture was just recently taken for her school yearbook. As for me, mine was the most recent one, when I was declared “dead” by the coroner. Our pictures side-by -side was the epitome of happiness and sadness. I must admit, my death was really convincing and no expense was spared. I gotta hand it to Peter and Freddy and his CSI team for making it look so damn real. Were I not alive, I’d think I was dead too. So please, Emmy Awards all around.
But I’m sure that these same people went to work the very next day. I’m sure that when they went home and after making love to their wives, they slept soundly and without any disturbances. I’m sure that the people that read the news article while reading about our now-completely-dead-family over coffee they shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders and said to themselves, “How horrible,” and thanked their lucky stars that it wasn’t their daughter, their wife, or their sister that was raped and killed and thrown into a fucking lake. And they’ll thank their lucky stars that it wasn’t them that decided to use rock-climbing rope to test the strength of their own neck to make the suffering stop and end the suffocation of questions such as, “Why did this happen to me?” or "What did I do to deserve this?" I know it all too well.
“So what happens now?” I asked Peter after wards. We didn’t think this far ahead. A plan to kill one’s self effectively takes a lot of planning, believe me.
“Well, you’re dead. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but where do I go?”
“You have to disappear, Cody. It really doesn’t matter where you go, as long as you remain dead…” Peter got all dreamy-eyed. He was up to something.
“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you in the morning. You can stay in the guest house tonight. Everything you need is there. I’ll make sure that you’re not disturbed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
That night I had the worst dream. And the thing about it is that it wasn’t a dream—it was a past occurrence from years ago. I woke up to the sound of Haley screaming at the very top of her lungs. I got up out of bed as fast as I could and grabbed a baseball bat nearby and ran to her room and practically knocked down her door:
“Haley? What is it?” I asked her. But Haley continued screaming. I went over to her and wrapped my arms around her. “Listen, sweetie. I can’t help—Daddy can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong." Her tears soaked my bare neck while embracing me.
“Monsters, daddy!" She said between sobs. "They’re monsters everywhere!”
“No sweetheart, you just had a bad dream. Monsters aren’t real.”
“No! They’re real monsters everywhere daddy, you have to believe me.”
“Okay, all right…I believe you, Haley.”
“Make the monsters go away daddy!" She was crying harder now. "Promise me you’ll make them go away.”
“Yes, I’ll make the monsters go away. I won’t let them hurt you.”
“Do you promise, daddy?”
“Yes, I promise.”
And then I woke up to the sound of Peter who was calling me over me and over again.
“What are you, dead?” I’ve been looking throughout this house for you.”
“Blame yourself, asshole. You own it.”
“You have to leave in fifteen minutes.”
“Why? Where am I going?”
“Well, where did you think you were going to go after you died, heaven?”
“No, the other place.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll like it. I’ll keep in touch with you while you’re gone. Your father knows everything so don’t worry about him. Everything is taken cared of and under-wraps.”
“Thanks, brother.” Peter smiled and said nothing. And just like that, It wouldn't be for another two years before I'd see him again.”
Exactly fifteen minutes later, a guy in a Maybach pulls up to the house and I hop in. About fifteen minutes after that, we arrive at a Cessna which housed private jets you’ve probably never seen before. I was ushered over with my two bags and got on board.
When we landed, I became a bit excited. The place we landed was a lush island paradise. Before my jet landed, we circled around it and I was able to see a handful of waterfalls within. Was I going to be living here? I thought. Things don’t really get better than this. When I got up to walk out of the jet, I half-expected to get one of those flowery necklaces, but everything came to a screeching halt from there on. I snapped back to reality. A Mister Miyagi-like man stood waiting to greet me.
“Welcome to Jirai Island, Cody” he said in Miyagi-speak. “My disciples call me Master Akira.”
“Nice to, uh, meet you, Master Akira.” He smiled at me.
“I understand that you read many books on Aikido, Judo, Jiu-Jitsu, and Karate?”
“Yeah, Peter must have told you all of this right?” He bowed his head. “So tell me, what am I doing here?” He smiled again.
“To learn everything those books failed to teach you.”
© Copyright, 2009. All Rights Reserved.
My Hubs on Inspiration and Writing
- Stay the Course; Follow Your Dreams
Please be advised that the following article may discourage or encourage you to succeed or fail in life, like it or not. I may be supporting or arguing the fact that you should or should not follow your...
- The Girl in the Avatar
First off, I'd like to thank my good friend Cris A for challenging me to write this poem. As a kid, I was a knucklehead and almost never turned down a dare, which made for good companionship one would say. ...
- Why I Write: A Reflection
Having reached my 49th Hub and completing the 30/30 Hubchallenge, I thought about maybe taking a week off or so, basking in the satisfaction of a job well done and just laying myself off on...
- How to Write a Novel and Find the Voice Within
How I know I'm a Writer Hello. My name is Dohn and I am a writer. No one ever told me that I was a writer (thank God) and no one ever had to. How I became a writer was a conscious decision I made on my...
- Unrequited Love: The One That Got Away
Author's Note: I want to thank my friend and confidante, Fierycj for inspiring me to write this hub. After reading First Crush: Reba Ashkar: A Short Story, he insisted that I contact her and find out her...
- Remembering Nine Eleven
I remember the day clearly. It was a picture-perfect day that day. There were no clouds in the sky against a pane of unblemished blue. The temperature was somewhere between high-sixties and low-seventies...
- Write a 55-Word Story
The widely popular literary journal Roanoke Review is holding a short-story contest this month! The first place prize is $1,000 and the second place prize is $500 for a story up to 6,000 words which means a...
My Other Short Stories
- Escape: A True Story
Escape By Khamfone Paditsone Tr. dohn121 Author's Note: To eliminate some confusion, my father is narrating this story not me In the summer of 1945 during the end of the World War II, my father Dohn was...
- If I Had Wings: A Short Story
My family and I came to America right after Jimmy Carter left office. My first American memory arrived at John F. Kennedy airport, where we landed. It was cold in America, I remembered that very...
- First Crush: Reba Ashkar: A Short Story
Its five-thirty on a Friday night in late June at the Westchester Yacht Club and everyone in Dohns graduating class is already there. Dinner will be served at precisely six. Outside, at the bottom of...
- The Absence of Aurora: A Short Story
It was in that year that he left Aurora. Before he did, he envisioned another life. He believed this to be the best move. With her voice still fresh in his mind, he had heard her whisper on occasion to...
- For the Love of Buddhism: A Short Story
Thinking back, I can still see her now. Shes imperfect but clear in my mind. Shes as clear as the crystal orb that my clouded mind endeavored to envision back then when trying so desperately...
- Nancy : A Short Story
It was a voice hed heard long before calling his name that he faintly heard while working. Customers frequented the grocery store he worked en masseso much that he grew accustomed to filtering out the...
- See You in the Bahamas: A Short Story
Victor sits across from me at their dining room table wearing his linen napkin as bib. A few times, I sat on that same chair. Between us is a carved pork roast atop a wood slab accompanied by very large...
Some of My Favorite Hubs
- The Grand Canyon's West Rim
The West Rim of the Grand Canyon In October of 2006, I was asked by my sister and her husband to go to Las Vegas for ten days. Aside from the fact that my job was killing me and that I needed a break, Vegas...
- Viva Las Vegas Vacation
Embarrassing as it may be, my flight to Vegas in October of 2005 was the first time I flew on an airplane since the age of four. The only thing I remember from my flight then was that I had to use one of...
- The Durian: King of All Fruits
Having written an article on
- Autumn In New Paltz, New York
Several years ago when first I transferred from Plattsburgh to New Paltz, New York, I didnt know what to expect. My emotions were an equal mix of excitement and fear as I began a new chapter in my life....
- American Express Centurion: The Black Card
American Express Centurion, a.k.a. The Black Card. Courtesy of flickr.com For those of you that are wondering, my name is not Cheung Chun Keung and that is not my hand holding that Amex Black Card...But I...
- Visit Luang Prabang Laos
Wat Haw Pha Bang in Luang Prabang Laos Steeped in history and tradition, Luang Prabang is Laos' Crown Jewel. Inducted into the United Nations Educational, Scientific, Cultural Organization (UNESCO) in 1995...
More by this Author
Robot-Inspired Flash Drive Over the years, a couple of people have asked me, "What does a writer need to write effectively on a daily basis?" As most writers will tell you, WRITERS WRITE. Write well,...
The following short story is a recount of growing up as an Amerasian in Westchester, New York in the 1980's. I'm dedicating this story to my father, Khamfone who's hope for a bright future for me is unfaltering.
American Express Centurion or American Express Black is the card in which all other cards are compared to. Perhaps the most coveted of all credit cards or charge cards for that matter, the American Express Card is...