He Told Me Not To

A coach once told me that if a doctor ever tells you that you have only 3 hours left to live you should go to a mosquito (little league) baseball game. It’ll be the longest three hours of your life.

We were losing the whole game. We were always close, but always losing. After the 5th inning we were down 16-15. The 6th inning would be our last chance. The sun was on the horizon and once it dipped below it would get dark fast. I knew there was a chance we wouldn’t be able to finish. You can imagine my dismay when I saw their pitcher warming up. He was throwing with heat. Gordon Ramsey in Hell’s Kitchen kind of heat. Fastballs that I feared my mosquitoes wouldn’t be able to hit and we would be 3 up, 3 down and game over.

You can imagine my surprise when he loaded the bases with walks.

You can imagine my surprise again when we had suddenly scored 5 runs and found ourselves up by 4. I was watching the darkness creep up on us and knew we had to get the 6th inning over if were to win. You see, if a game is called on account of darkness the score reverts back to last inning that was finished. We were losing in that inning. We had 1 out against us and I quietly told my next batter to strike out so we could get this inning over. Unfortunately, she was hit. A bean ball that scored us a 6th run and put us up by 5. I told my next batter the same thing. He struck out, though not on purpose. 

2 outs and the sun was below the horizon now. We were playing on borrowed time. Twilight time. We had to end the inning pronto. I quietly approached my next batter and explained it to him.

Me: This is going to make no sense right now, but in order for us to win this game I need you to strike out.
Batter: So you want me to swing at everything?
Me: Yes

And he did too. One pitch sailed over his head. He swung, not even attempting to hit the ball. Our coach down at 1st base hollered to him to not swing at pitches over his head. I laughed because coach wasn’t in on our plan. He swung and missed the second pitch, too. He swung at the 3 pitch and connected solid with it. The ball sails like a runaway kite in hurricane out into right field. The batter stands on home plate simply watching it as if he were watching a ball game instead of participating in it.

The first base coach is yelling, “RUN! YOU HIT THE BALL! RUN!”

The batter is standing on homeplate pointing toward me at third and hollering back, “HE TOLD ME NOT TO!”

The right fielder throws the ball to first and the batter is called out. 3 outs. Change sides.

Bottom of the 6th now, we’re up by 5. I’ve got a pitcher throwing who usually throws zero run innings. It’s nearing 8:30 and it would be hard for me to argue to keep playing should the other team decide it’s too dark. I’m no lawyer. I probably couldn’t argue my way out of a wet paper bag. The other team does score one run. But we also make three outs to end the game with a win.

We won because of an almost strike out, because a hitter slugged the ball but stood still,  and because a team made it happen when it counted most.

Now swing on over to Facebook, Twitter and Instagram and follow me round the bases…

How A Cookie Saved My Life

I was walking home from school today and as I passed the grocery store I thought to myself (though I really said it aloud) “I should pick something up for dessert.” So I picked up monster cookies. These cookies are store made, the size of a man’s hand, and loaded with tiny M&M’s. Soft. Chewy. 8 cookies per pack.

So I buy the cookies and continue walking home. At the corner of McDonald’s and the gas station I push the pedestrian crossing button. Now, you might not believe me, but it’s true, I swear. I pushed that button and hole opened in the sidewalk. I peered in and there was a man down there. He looked exactly like me! I hollered down to him, “Do you need help?” He just looked up at me. So I offered him one of my monster cookies. “Mon up and have a cookie” I told him. I knew he could smell it because his nose twitched. I took a step back holding out the cookie. Lo and behold, out of the hole he climbed. So I gave him a monster cookie just like I promised. I think he smiled, then he simply walked away.

Being a curious guy, I looked into the hole again. It was empty now, but it was only about 4 or 5 feet deep so I climbed in. It was a tunnel, not a hole! I crawled in a short way and I suddenly felt myself sliding down. The tube was smooth and I couldn’t stop myself. I must have slide for at least 27 minutes.

Once I stopped moving I thought I was deep under ground, but I was wrong. I was under water! Technically, I was inside a huge bubble under water. It was a city inhabited by frog people. Two of them wrapped me up with their long sticky tongues and led me away. They took me to who I believed to be their queen. I thought of kissing her to see if she’d turn into a princess, but I kept my lips to myself. Turns out she wanted to send me to the slave pits to smash clams. Then I remembered the cookies so I offered her one for my freedom. I knew she could smell them because she licked her green frog lips.

They kick me out of their city on a green submarine that was piloted by a pirate. I don’t know where the pirate came from or why he had a submarine. I forgot to ask. Now, I know pirates are known thieves and this one seemed as slippery as squid snot. He looked at me with his one good eye and said, “Aye matey. You’ll make a fine deck hand on my pirate ship.” I always thought it would be fun to go sailing and work on those big, tall ships. Argh, the pirate life is not for me. So I offer him a monster cookie to drop me off somewhere safe. Preferably home.

Apparently pirates don’t negotiate, but they do eat cookies. That pirate left me on a deserted island. I walked around the island to find a way off. No luck. Then I walk through the woods and what do I find there? A giant, silver, flying saucer. Well it wasn’t flying, it was landed. Once the aliens saw me, though, they took me aboard. I thought for sure I was going to be probed in parts that aren’t for probing. They buckled me into a seat instead. Then it became a flying saucer. They said we were going to their planet, Xorgon and I would be put in the human zoo. I told their leader that I had cookies and he (she? I couldn’t tell) could have one if they’d take me back to Earth.

Now we’re on our way back to Earth, so I was told, when we suddenly stop. Lights of all colors were bouncing off the walls. Turns out we were stopped by intergalactic police! I told the leader alien the best way to get out of getting a ticket is to flash some boob, before I realized she didn’t have any boobs. Anyway, they arrest me for smuggling humans, even though I was the human. I’m riding in the back to the police rocket and I say, “Excuse me, Officer, I have this delicious cookie you can have if you don’t put me in jail. Police are easy to bribe. They’ll do anything for a cookie.

I’m sitting in the police station of some far off planet when Chief tells me a taxi is coming. You should have seen the size of this rocket ship taxi!  I climb in the co-pilot’s seat and we take off for Earth. We were going so fast that if I had had hair it would have caught fire. This taxi driver was a maniac! “Slow down!” I shout. He laughs, his fat belly jiggles, and a button popped off his shirt. Fortunately, he slows down. “Give me a cookie,” he says, “Or we’ll go even faster.” I had no choice but to give him one.

The taxi drops me off on Earth. I could tell something was different but couldn’t quite place it until I heard a thunderous sound and felt the ground shake. I could only stand in awe as a 40 foot T-Rex approached. It roared a monstrous roar. I threw a monster cookie at it and took off running. Then I saw a shimmery blue oval hovering in front of me, like a wall. With a terrible lizard wanting the rest of my cookies I had no choice but to jump in.

I found myself in a dark room. It smelled of dirt, felt like rock and was too short for me to stand up in. So I sat in my dark room and ate the last monster cookie. I must have sat there for at least 27 minutes when suddenly a bright light shone down on me. I squinted and looked up. “Do you need help?” I heard someone ask. I couldn’t see him because of the bright sunlight in my eyes. “Mon up and have a cookie,” I heard him say. The cookie smelled so good it made my nose twitchy. So I carefully climbed up out of the hole, took the cookie, smiled and walked home.

And this, kids, is why there is only one cookie left.

I Want To Drive A Dump Truck; A Guest Post by Bang

This is a guest post written by five year old, Bang. DW has already shared it to her Facebook. Now I’m sharing it with all of you. He worked hard on this story for at least an hour today. He illustrated it, too. If it doesn’t make you smile, you should ask Santa for a warmer heart. Look below each image to see it’s translation.

I want to drive a dump truck

If I want to drive a dump truck I will need my uhh hard hat.

If I want to drive a dump truck I will need some boots.

If I want to drive a dump truck I will need a suit.

If I want to drive a dump truck I will need some gloves.

But the most thing I need is a dump truck.

Meeting A Best Selling Author

Feis [pronouced [fʲɛʃ] [it rhymes with “meas” in measure]. It’s a Gaelic word for a traditional arts and culture festival.

My Dear Wife (DW) works for a literacy council. Every November they hold a huge fundraiser and invite two authors to speak. They also hold a silent auction (where I won a DeWalt drill) and offer a delicious catered, buffet meal. Since DW has come to work for this council three years ago, I have looked forward to Feis.

It counts as date night, too. We don’t get many of those.

Thanks to this event I have now met 5 Canadian greats.

• Sheree Fitch
• Graham Steele
• Lesley Crew
• Bette MacDonald
• Ami McKay

Ami Mckay was the speaker this year and I think I was as excited to meet her as I was to meet Sheree Fitch. She was invited along with David Muise. However, Mr. Muise had to cancel last minute. He’s been battling prostate cancer for the past three years. On the day of the event doctors discovered a second strain of cancer and he immediately underwent a dose of chemo and was instructed to go home to bed. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers.

Ami is the author a best seller, “The Birth House”. It’s on my to read list.

The Birth House is the story of Dora Rare, the first daughter to be born in five generations of the Rare family. As a child in an isolated village in Nova Scotia, she is drawn to Miss Babineau, an outspoken Acadian midwife with a gift for healing and a kitchen filled with herbs and folk remedies. During the turbulent years of World War I, Dora becomes the midwife’s apprentice. Together, they help the women of Scots Bay through infertility, difficult labors, breech births, unwanted pregnancies and even unfulfilling sex lives.

Mrs. McKay gave us a bit of a backstory (I love those) about the book. It’s certainly a house with so much history. I believe she told us that the midwife of the house, Mrs.Rebecca Steele, had just one child whom she adopted. When a mother came to the birth house Mrs. Steele would make the mother and baby stay in the house for a week afterwards.  It is the house the author now lives in. Her second son was born in that house.

Ami was great to listen to. She has three published books: The Birth House, The Virgin Cure, and The Witches of New York.  We received some tangent stories on those books, too. My favorite was about a blue marble. In her book a marble appears to a character. This blue marble has some significance and meaning to it. The character knows this marble was placed for her to find. After writing this part of her story, Ami was out for a walk with her husband in freshly fallen snow. Not a track to be seen in the white stuff and what does Ami find in the snow? A blue marble.

She read a bit to us from The Virgin Cure and The Witches of New York. Afterwards, I bought them both and she signed them (I already have The Birth House). DW has already finished The Virgin Cure. Ami was even gracious enough to have her picture taken with me! You can check out her blog, too!

Did I mention she’s an American (just like me) who married an amazing Canadian (just like me) then moved to Nova Scotia (just like me)? How awesome!

 

 

The Seastar Thrower

*I heard/read this story long ago so I don’t remember the specifics. I have adapted it to my own storytelling abilities.

The beach was small and quiet, tucked out of the way. There were some small houses nearby, but nobody important. The surfer enjoyed the beach for its solitude, peace and waves that were just good enough. That’s how he found it that morning, surfboard tucked under his arm, sand in his toes. As he approached the shoreline he noticed something odd. Thousands and thousands of seastars lay on the cool, wet sand.

The Beginning

Photo Prompt © Janet Webb

Read chapter 25 or start from the beginning

Chapter 26

Outside the courthouse, I could hear the rain pounding. My lawyer said parking lots were flooded.

Inside the courthouse, my handcuffs were as cold and hard as the rain outside. I sat before the judge, ready for my verdict.

“I hearby declare the defendant not guilty in the murder of Dempsey Baynart.”

My restraints were removed and I bolted from the courtroom. Brogan’s face lit, his arms wide as he leaped from Ione’s lap and into my arms.

“Mommy’s secret worked.”

“It did, buddy. He thought that big baby doll was you”

Ione approached me smiling. “Let’s get back to Nova Scotia, shall we?”

I couldn’t wait.

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Not to be continued…

I hope you liked the journey. This is the last chapter of this series. It ran for 26 chapters. I highly encourage you to start at the beginning. Our character had quite an adventure. This was a fun challenge I posed to myself. Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting these photo prompts. I will continue to write my Saturday prompts, they just won’t be connected. A HUGE thanks to all who have been following!

 

The End

Photo © Jan Wayne Fields

Read chapter 24 or start from the beginning

Reflecting, boating into NY, I was still shaking, nauseous, sweating.

It had been just the three of us on the farm.

“Give me Brogan.”

“If I don’t?”

The gun he pulled was answer enough.

I responded, pulling out a small silver switch box. “The car’s rigged, Dempsey. If I’m dead anyway, he’s better off with me than you.”

He moved toward the car when saw Brogan’s silhouette. “STOP!” I hollered. “You’re not getting him!”

“Stupid, bitch. Yes, I am.”

I flipped the switch. The explosion rocked my world. He turned the gun towards me. I flung myself at him. We landed hard on the ground. A second explosion rang in my ears. Dempsey’s body, limp atop me, muffled all other sounds.

---

Read chapter 26

This is a continuation of an experiment. Each week there is a 100 word short story photo prompt challenge posed by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. My challenge to myself is to connect these photos into one seamless story. I hope you have enjoyed the stories. It’s been fun trying to connect these stories. This certainly wasn’t the ending I was expecting to reach when I started this challenge. Thanks, Rochelle, for providing the catalyst for creation!

 

Princess and the Pea

Photo Prompt © Sandra Cook

Read chapter 23 or start from the beginning.

Chapter 24

My knuckles were white on the wheel. These God damn sheep weren’t helping. Why in Jesus’s name would he want me to bring Brogan to hillbilly country? Perhaps we were being led to a slaughterhouse, too.  As I neared the farm, I couldn’t stop the tears. My heart hammering so hard my whole body vibrated its pounding rhythm. The envelope sat silently screaming on the passenger seat. The message inside clearly letting me know I had no other choice.  The item in the envelope now a lump in my pocket like the princess who slept on a pea.

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Read chapter 25

This is a continuation of an experiment. Each week there is a 100 word short story photo prompt challenge posed by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. My challenge to myself is to connect these photos into one seamless story. I am going to try to end this story with the next 2 pictures. July will be the last month. I wonder how it will end? Click the blue frog to read other stories inspired by this photo.

 

 

Running Out of Options

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Marler Morrill

Read chapter 22 or start from the beginning.

Chapter 23

God damn black sedan! I spotted it three cars back. On foot I knew the car couldn’t keep up. So I slipped down a side alley. In the muffled distance I heard a car door slam and I took off running.

“HEY!”

Without looking at who shouted, I took off running. I ran until I suddenly ran out of alley. Breathless, out of options, I ran directly at my predator, hoping to get past him. He was too strong, bear hugging me to the ground.

“Dempsey wants Brogan.”

“Over my dead body, asshole.”

“Dempsey gave me full permission to make that happen. He even threw in a bonus if it did.”

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Read chapter 24

This is a continuation of an experiment. Each week there is a 100 word short story photo prompt challenge posed by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. My challenge to myself is to connect these photos into one seamless story. I am going to try to end this story with the next 3 pictures. July will be the last month. I wonder how it will end? Click the blue frog to read other stories inspired by this photo.

Summoned

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Read chapter 21 or start from the beginning.

Chapter 22

Through the soapy window I could see the headlights of the black sedan pull up to the house. “Brogan, go up to your room and play for a bit, please”. I tried to keep my voice calm.

He found us. Or rather his lawyer did. I saw the dark clad figure approach, but the staccato knock still startled me. I finished cleaning the window before opening the door. “Ma’am. I’m here to deliver this. We’ll see you in court Monday morning.”

Game on.

“Brogan! Time to go!”

I have just two days left.

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Read chapter 23

This is a continuation of an experiment. Each week there is a 100 word short story photo prompt challenge posed by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. My challenge to myself is to connect these photos into one seamless story. I am going to try to end this story with the next 4 pictures. July will be the last month. I wonder how it will end? Click the blue frog to read other stories inspired by this photo.