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Blessed Forgiveness - A Flash Fiction Challenge Response
(This is in response to Cam's challenge to write a flash fiction story involving a coffee shop and a cane. Since this is my first ever attempt at flash fiction, please be gentle!)
Blessed Forgiveness
As soon as I saw it, it all came back and I was awash in shame.
I grew up in small town Iowa, and Bob’s Coffee Shop was there when I left some thirty years ago, so it was a shock to discover that not only was it still there and in business, Bob was still behind the counter!
But it wasn’t Bob of course. He would have been well over a hundred, and the man behind the counter was younger than me. Then I remembered Bob’s son, old-what’s-his-name. By the look on his face, he remembered me too, so I sat at the counter.
“I think I may know you.”
I nodded. “You’re Bob’s son, right?”
He grinned and offered his hand. “Dave Candless.”
I took it. He had a firm grip. “Bill Grayson. I lived here years ago.”
I pointed at the old cane mounted on hooks over the door. “I recognize that. It belonged to old George Pranger, right?”
He nodded. “He passed on in 1988 from his wounds.”
His wounds? My God, what had I done?
As kids, we used to make fun of the shambling figure who once used the simple cane now hanging in a place of honor. His legs barely held him up, and his face had been ruined by some event we knew nothing about. But how he came to be that way didn’t matter to a pack of unmerciful boys, reveling in another human’s misfortune. We yelled insults, and then looked at each other for approval. In return, old man Pranger simply smiled and gave us a weak wave of his hand.
“His wounds? I guess I never knew about any wounds.”
Dave Candless regarded me silently, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable when he finally leaned over and put his forearms on the counter. He spoke quietly and confidentially to me.
“He fought in World War Two as a sergeant with the 101st Airborne. He was one of the guys who parachuted into France just hours before the D-Day invasion began. He sprained his ankle on landing, but he just wrapped it tightly and kept going. Later, he charged a machine gun because it was firing on his men, and wiped it out with grenades, but he himself was wounded by the shrapnel.”
He stopped and topped off my cup. The coffee was the same as I remembered, rich and strong. He watched as I added cream and sugar. Then he began again.
“He bandaged his own wounds and refused treatment from a medic. Then three days later, he stepped on a mine. It was one of those anti-personnel mines that GI’s called a ‘bouncing Betty’. When tripped, it came up a couple feet and went off. The purpose of that was to destroy a soldier’s manhood, and terrorize the enemy if you get my meaning.”
He looked at me and I nodded.
“George suffered that and severe wounds to his legs and arms. His face was heavily scarred by shrapnel and also badly burned. He came back home, and released his fiancé from her promise. He tried to find work, but no one would hire him, so he moved here and started writing for a living, mostly just pulp stuff, but enough to get by. More coffee?”
I shook my head, and started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. I felt the hot tears forming in my eyes, and to my embarrassment, Dave slid a box of tissues across the counter. I wiped my eyes, and watched him open a drawer and take out an envelope. He placed it in front of me, and to my astonishment, it had my name on it in shaky printing.
“There are five other letters, but four are dead. Two of accidents, one suicide, and Jerry Brown was killed in Vietnam around 1970. That leaves just you and Frank Jackson, and Frank is doing life in prison.”
I opened it, and it was a short letter written in the same shaky script:
Hello Billy,
By the time you read this, I’ll probably be with God, and all healed up again. But I think it’s my duty to let you know that I never resented you boys, because you didn’t know any better. Hell, I might have done the same when I was a boy. Boys can be mean like that you know.
I don’t want you to feel bad about those days. You were just being boys, so I want you to forgive yourself because I forgave you instantly.
Oh, and if any of you want that old cane as a keepsake, just ask Bob or his son Dave.
George
For a long time, I could not speak for the lump in my throat, and Dave mercifully went about the business of running a café, occasionally glancing my way. At last, he walked back and placed his forearms on the counter in front of me again. I handed him the note and waved at him to read it. He did and then looked at me with a question in his eyes.
“I would like to have that cane, Dave, if it’s agreeable. I too am a writer, so I’d like to dig into the archives and give George Pranger the recognition he deserves.”
I placed the carefully wrapped cane in the trunk of my car and took a long last look at the run down main-street of the small town I once called home. I started to walk around the car when my bad knee gave out, and for a moment, I was unable to move for the pain. Then I hobbled around to the driver’s door and was easing myself in when I heard a boy’s voice and laughter.
“Hey guys! Look at that old cripple! Stand up and walk right old man!” There were six of them. They laughed again and slapped each other on the back.
I smiled and waved at them. Hell, they were just boys.
...
Dedicated to George Pranskunas, 1888 - 1974.
Comments
Wonderfully written, Will! I think we need more writing challenges for us old storytellers.
Blessings and forgiveness all around
Taking names writing them down
Will they learn what goes around?
Before their compassion can be found
*
*
Blessings
Bill, I have no idea how I missed this one, but it pleases me greatly to find it! Wonderful job. Excellent! Apparently, you can write anything you set your mind to, which is no surprise to those of us who follow you.
Tonight, I'm going through all your hubs to see if there are any more nuggets I've missed! Oh, and sharing it too.
Will, you certainly didn't disappoint! I enjoyed this one very much.
This is superb. zit was well written and the final words are by far the best. What goes around, comes around, eh?
Well of course the writing is excellent - by a master. I gotta go now over to the store. I suppose I will look at the guy there with wounds I cannot see with a little more respect. Thanks
Just terrific! Great story
I had to come over and although i read three, this one is simply amazing.
It's true, kids could be mean, not just boys, but girls also...sadly, they just don't know any better. Brilliant story! :)
Oh, Will...this is terrific story; in so many ways, I can't begin to put into one comment. Thank you for being here, and for sharing your gift with us.
Will, this is a great story. You can sure tell a interesting story.
Will, I agree with Bill. This is the best flash fiction I've read in a long time. You are a master of storytelling. No matter what you write, I'm riveted to my seat and moved by the emotions in your stories.
You deserve an award for this.
This story was fantastic. I love the idea of flash fiction and you rose to the occasion, as always.
Wow you are terrific! What a moving and well written story. And the message on forgiveness! Powerful. I will share it on my writers group on Facebook!
Who said old dogs learn no new tricks, eh? I bow before the master... lily
Touching, profound and well-written story! You also reminded me how nasty and merciless girls can be, just to regret their behavior when they're older and wiser.
Will, the first and last lines of your story have a special connection. The first is his view of himself before the blessed forgiveness, and the last is his view of the boys after he had begun to deal with the demon that had been tormenting him. The rest was an extremely well crafted mix of past and present. This is just plain good story telling, Will. Congratulations on a masterful first flash fiction. Thank you for taking part in the challenge.
With this one, as with every other story of yours that I have read, Will, you have proved once again that you are not only the revered master of the written word, but the sentient teacher, and the memorable mentor. Seriously! I do enjoy reading your work.
Hi Will - You chose a story that calls attention to the wounded and disabled. What a story you developed. Every story about the cane and coffee shop has yielded different and clever stories with surprise endings. I love stories that make us touch on the folks who need to have applause and not ridiculed but who take it in stride. Sharing, Blessings, Audrey
Wow! What a gift. To be able to start with just two words, and make it into a story with lessons. Being young, growing old, the circle of life and how perspective changes, all from just being asked to write a coffee shop and a cane.
It is a gift.
I think you've just found another successful genre! Honestly, Will, your writing is so good that I can't read it without getting goose bumps, an ache in my chest, or tears. Wonderful story!
Cat:)
No need to be gentle! Great story, as always. Enjoyed that.
Very much enjoyed your flash fiction. I hope you'll write more of them!
Nice story, Bill. It reminds me of a WWII vet I used to work with.
Always there with the best stories to tug at our hearts, Will. Nicely done and, as Jodah so thoughtfully says: "a very important message for all of us. " Kids and old men always seem to have a thing going. Wonderful story.
This is a perfect response to the challenge Will, great flash fiction with a very important message for all of us. Loved it.
Sorry, I like to shorten William to Bill ...
"First ever attempt at flash fiction ..." What? Dear Bill, you are a writer period!
You have surpassed the challenge and then some with this heartrending flash fiction, and starting with the wonderful title, perfect choice of photo and then a most memorable write. Bravo all around.
One knows writing is great when you will not forget it.
Shared everywhere
Blessings
wow , amazing again... I never tire of reading your stories that are emotional and so well written I feel as if I am in the story.
Who said you can't write flash fiction? Not me. I loved it, and you taught us a lesson for forgiveness. We all will become slower and maybe unsteady on our feet. If we're ever made fun of hopefully we'll remember your story?
A good story Will. I enjoyed the read.
I had to grab for the box of Kleenex myself. Wonderful piece of fiction as usual.
You say this is your first attempt at flash fiction, Will, but we all know that you can write a story - this is just shorter than usual. You have written the best response yet to this challenge. It turns around at just the right moment and delivers the ending. It's also full of emotions. Brilliant!
Ann
Wonderful story Will. You are a master at storytelling, and it shows. Touching our hearts is what you do best.
You are a Master, what can I say? Hugs G-Ma
The past can and often does come back and bite us on the behiney..../And forgiveness is a wonderful gift to ourselves and to others.
I felt as if I were right there with you as the story unfolded.
Angels are on the way to you this evening. ps shared g+
That was amazing Will, you certainly know how to grab hold of the old attention and keep us there! what a great story, and yes I loved the ending, what goes round comes round!
Will: You make these tales seem so real. You really have a gift. This was a super short story and, I guess, met all the requirements of flash fiction.
Bob
Amazing story for flash fiction, so very true about young lads, it will never go away, that's life the next generation will be still doing it to the elderly.
Brought tears to my eyes held my attention to the end.
You are a good writer.
Thanks.
Oh, that's a good one - gave me a bit of a moment there with old George's letter. Nice. Very nice.
Hello Will this is a fine piece of writing. It is filled with the right proportions of emotion and nostalgia.
Great response to the challenge, Will. Many of HP's best fiction writers accepted the challenge, and I suspect you're similar to me in that you cannot resist such. :) I didn't realize there were 'Bouncing Bettys' in WWII and always thought they had their beginnings in Nam. Enjoyed as usual!
Randy
Oh you make me cry! Gorgeous write!
Wow, all I can say is you need to write more flash fiction my friend. This was absolutely awesome reading. Just don't quit writing your Western Stories though. Like billybuc said, "You've got the touch my friend."
The master has written and I have learned.
This is the best flash fiction I've read in a long, long time. You've got the touch, my friend.
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