DICK DODGERS's blog: "BEAUTIFUL DAYS"

BEAUTIFUL DAYS CHAPTER TWO run·ning: 1 a : to go faster than a walk; specifically : to go steadily by springing steps so that both feet leave the ground for an instant in each step b of a horse : to move at a fast gallop c : FLEE, RETREAT, ESCAPE d : to utilize a running play on offense -- used of a football team 2 a : to go without restraint : move freely about at will. That's according to webster...here's my take on the word... run·ning: The part of the job I fuckin' hate! BEAUTIFUL DAYS CHAPTER 2 BULLETPROOF POW WOW "What the hell took you guys so long?" The question that the injured hoodlum who goes by "Patch" asks his colleagues who snatched him up off the street and saved him from jail time. Page is the driver, bald, bad teeth. Drunk off his ass but he drives better that way. Toby the gunman rides shotgun...no pun intended, rounding out the trio of saviors is Cotton, the southern born, inbred, hillbilly fuck of an individual. The four gentlemen in the car believe in one thing, chaos! "Jesus Christ dude, your shot!, says Cotton. "No fuckin' shit! That southern education at work!", Patch replies. "We gotta get you to the man, then., Page adds. What man is he refering to...? As the car barrels through it's seventh stop light, Page looks to the back seat at his injured comrade and asks... "Who the fuck shot you?" Patch looks up, as if dazed. Towards the windsheild of the vehicle. His friends look towards him for an answer. He raises his finger and points to what he sees right in front of the moving vehicle and says... "He did!" As they quickly turn thier attention back to the road ahead of them they find themselves greeted by yours truly, guns drawn, headed straight towards them on foot. Guns aimed at the moving vehicle ready to shoot, they swerve off the road and into the 1800 building on the corner of Main and Usher. It was bingo night. As soon as the number was called... "B-19!" ...the car went crashing through the bingo hall. I never saw old people move that fuckin' fast! Don't let the grey hair fool ya those fuckers can run. The car finally tears through the stage and makes it's stop. I stand in the street for a bit. Looking on at the carnage. Old folks haulin' ass outta harm's way. The car partially burried in debris. Steaming. I approach with guns drawn. Clutching my .45's upside down like I do...pinkys' on the triggers. I come to the passenger side of the vehicle. Page is slumped outcold over the steering wheel. The other three...nowhere to be found, but couldn't be far. I begin to survey the area. Chasing whatever old farts still lingering around away. Telling them to seek safety...i make my way deeper inside. To the staircase. Now the 1800 building is an apartment mostly for the elderly. Which explains the fuckin' bingo. The upstairs were the apartments themselves. I notice a broken trail of blood on the steps on the way up. It is apparent to me that they thought their driver friend to be dead and abandoned him. Making a mad dash up the steps carrying thier wounded friend. But i could tell that the driver wasn't dead, just knocked out. It would appear that the driver has asthma or some type of breathing disorder from the way he inhaled/exhaled while being in his unconsious state. Long story short...i saw that the piece of shit was still breathing. I make my way upstairs. Step by Step by Step the thunder rumbles... I hear the hammer cock. I dive back down the stairs. Toby opens fire. Desert Eagle .50. Son of a bitch. That used to be my favorite gun up until some- body just tried to fuckin kill me with it. Toby was hanging over the banister on the next level. He fired two shots...missed and duck back in for cover. I'm at a point at the bottom of the stairs where he can't hit me. But I knew i had to make my way up there. He fires again. I see what's going on. The plan is to hold me off as they get thier wounded friend to safety. But there were old folks up there. Probably scared out of thier minds. In grave danger. And i realize something i should have realized two blocks back... I dropped my cigarettes. He's peeking down. He hears no movement out of me. He's got the Eagle aimed at the staircase. Waiting on me to slip and make a move. So i give him what he wants. He sees my coat and fidora make it's way to the steps. He opens fire. Dam'n. Perfectly good coat. Two Desert Eagle bullet holes burned in it. Right in the back. I hear him run down the stairs. He picks up the fidora...the figure in my coat...not me. His friend who was slumped over the steering wheel. I had dragged him out and dressed him in my coat and hat. And shoved him into the line of fire. Now i know what you are thinking...what kind of sick son of a bitch takes an unconsious man and shoves him into gunplay. Well, remember that breathing problem? Crushed windpipe from the crash. He died at some point during me hiding from getting my ass shot off from that Eagle. By the time he realizes it's his buddy...im at the end of the stairs... BANG BANG! Took out the genius' kneecaps. He's on the ground cryin' like a bitch. Screamin'. Dropped his Eagle. I grab him by the collar... "Where they at, shit for brains?" He points upstairs. I make my way up easy. Guns drawn. I'm now on the fourth floor. I pass by the rooms of the old folks. I see the fear on thier faces. Some hide...Some look on noseily. A trail of blood. Leads to the last room on the floor. The door is partialy open. I walk in. I find Cotton with a hostage. A younger Native American male. And the wounded, Patch with a hostage of his own. An elderly Native American male. There was a father/son hostage situation going on. I was stuck... "You can't save em both, asshole!", says Patch. "Heh heh, Yea!", adds Cotton with that dumb ass hillbilly accent! They are at opposite ends of the room. I got a gun on each of em. But i won't reveal that one of these guns is outta bullets. So I bluff... " You see these beams? Right at your fuckin' foreheads. I can plug you both, no problem!" Patch chimes in... "Bullshit, cop! One of them guns is empty!!! So much for that... "Look, cop!", says Patch. "I ain't got time to play fuckin' games here. My shoulder, it hurts. I'm gonna go get it taken care of, and you're gonna let me walk outta here. Or you will have this old fuckin' Indian's blood on ya hands, bitch!" Only one thing to say to that... "So fuckin' what...shoot em' !" , I say. The four of them look baffled... and in unison, the four let out thier reaction to this by dropping one word... "WHAT?!" So i go on... "Shoot em'! Who the fuck cares. They're nobodies. Hell if you want, I'll drop em' myself. I place my focus on the gun in my left hand. I aim right for the elderly Native American hostage. My pinky on the trigger. All eyes are now on this gun. Each man in the room anticipating the shot from the gun aimed right for the face of the old man. At that instant, the second gun is dead locked on Cotton's forehead... BLAM! I get off one shot. Cotton drops to the floor. While everyone is stunned at the trick i pulled, I toss my empty .45 at Patch's kneecap knocking him to the floor. I yell for the younger of the two native americans to toss me the dead Cotton's gun. He does. Patch aims, I fire. That shoulder i grazed... I got it this time. He's yelling in pain. And the hostages are free. I hear the sirens roll in. Backup is here. I toss that piece of shit, Patch down the stairs He's their problem now. The other officers begin thier questioning. The meat wagon shows up. And me, I find myself upstairs still, in the company of the Native American father/son duo. The younger one approches me... My father wants to give you something, he says. "Well I don't smoke that shit you guys smoke out on the reservation. At least not on duty.", I reply. "The soul of warrior is what you posess, my friend." , says the young man. The older one begins to speak in a language i don't understand, but the younger one translates the phrase as... "Let me offer you this gift. From one warrior to another. A gift beyond life and war. Beyond all that binds us. A gift that will help your souls journey. A gift that will be used as a great weapon of man, Against the evil of man. For it is coming!" The older Native American man walks over to me. He places his hands to my face. Thumbs covering my eyes. The lighting crashes... I feel an overwhelming sense of calm. The light. It feels as if im floating yet standing in one place. Then I see an image of her face. The brown eyes. At that instance I snap back to reality. The old man removes his hands from my face. He speaks but i don't under stand. His son translates... "Now you are ready, young warrior!" I stand there baffled. What the fuck just happened. As the duo left the room I ask in confusion... I'm ready? The old man comes back into the room alone and speaks to me in perfect fuckin' english... "Well not quite!" He tosses me somethin'. I don't recognize it at first. Until it finally reaches my hand. I look in my hand and say out loud... "Son of a bitch, MY CIGARETTES!" HUGE SMILE...:D END CHAPTER 2

BEAUTIFUL DAYS CHAPTER ONE: DINNER WITH JAKE I remember that night. It rained like a bitch. The streets were too slick. It was dark. And i don't mean just regular dark dark in nature. Dark in a lot of ways. Too many to explain now. There's an even darker alley behind the old piece of shit Apex motel. A sillhouette of a trenchcoated person with a hat, medium in size, runs down this alley as if to be searching for someone. They come to the ladder of the fire escape at the motel. They climb up to the fifth floor. Peeking into the window is a beautiful brown eye. No doubt by now that the trenchcoated person is female. She spies a figure in this motel room. Tied to a chair. Head hanging towards his lap. She whispers the words through the broken window pane... PAPA... She whispers to him a second time. The man comes around. He speaks softly as if to keep his voice from being heard by outsiders... Sophie...? Is that you? By now we obviously know that the woman is Sophie and the bound man in the chair is her father. She opens the window and makes her way over to her tied father and attempts to untie him. "Where are they?", she asks. "I'm not sure.", her father responds "But they aren't far. Sophie stops her attempt to untie her father to check on the status of his captors. She creeps to the peep hole of the door of the motel and peeps out. She sees the backs of two large figures as if they were standing on guard. She rushes back over to her father... "We have to hurry." she says as she goes back to work on the ropes. "Sophie, listen to me...There's no time." he says. Sophie looks at her father with tears forming within the corners of her eyes... "What do you mean?, she asks. He looks at his daughter as if he was looking at her for the very last time and says to her... "You know as well as i do, we cannot afford to suffer the same fate. I want you to go and expose the truth. You know what needs to be done. Now it is up to you to do it." I can't leave you Papa, she says. He looks in his daughter's eyes and says... "Sophie...Go!" She kisses her father on the forehead. At that instance. We hear the two figures outside speaking to a third party. The doorknob turns and the three enter the room. Sophie narrowly makes it back out to the fire escape. She perches down out of sight and looks on. Anticipating the final fate of her father. The three figures surround the bound man. All shrouded in shadows. Two large figures on each side...with the smaller one in the middle. Their faces hidden in darkness. The thunder rumbles... The smaller figure approaches Sophie's father and speaks to him. "Dr. Figgis! Wake the fuck up!" He ends this phrase with an open handed smack to the face of Sophie's father who we now know to be Dr. Figgis. The smack knocks the good Dr. over on his side. He reaches down and grabs Dr. Figgis by his face. Then reaches into his coat to reveal a 9 inch bowie knife that he aims right at the Dr.'s eyeball. "You got a choice, doc! You can tell us where that bitch is, or i can ram this blade right through to the back of your fuckin' skull!, the man says. Dr. Figgis looks right into the shadow hidden face of the man and says... "If this is my last night on earth, I will spend my last moments knowing that i will never give her up to you. So do what you must!" The lightning crashes The man then lets out a devilish laugh. The two taller figures join in to this laughter. He says... "Well boys, looks like we have a case of either the phoney tough, or the crazy brave. Which one are you, doc? He grabs the doctor by the back of the hair... "You're a fuckin' fool old man! Ladies and Gentlemen... The doctor...IS OUT!" As he draws back the knife to draw into the doc's skull, the barell of a .38 pokes it's way through the broken glass in the window. It's Sophie on the fire escape. She gets a shot off that hits one of the taller figures in the neck... The thunder rumbles... The knife welding man shouts out to the unscathed tall figure... "GET THAT BITCH!!!" The unshot tall figure runs over to the window drawing his gun. Sophie fires a shot at him and misses. Her father yells out... "SOPHIE RUN!" At that instance, the figure fires a shot shattering the remaining glass in the window. Sophie, startled, slips and loses her balance and falls off the fire escape. The lightning crashes...revealing the face of the knife welding captor. A psychopathic man with wild hair and a patch on his right eye. He looks at Dr. Figgis and says... "See ya in hell, asshole!" He lunges the blade into the Dr.'s chest. Looking him in the eyes the whole time the life drains out of the good Dr. Benjamin Figgis. As the first tall figure lies bleeding to death from his neck on the floor. The second one looks out of the window for the fallen Sophie that he is convinced he hit with the shot he fired. As he looks down, he is greeted in the forehead with a bullet from Sophie's .38. His body falls limp back into the window. Sophie is hanging by one hand on the edge of the fire escape. After seeing the second man shot, the eye-patched man heads over to the window looking for Sophie. He looks to the left...no Sophie. The bottom...no Sophie. To the right...Sophie is running for her life down the alley. He fires two shots and misses. About a block and a half away, Is SHO'S NOODLE STAND. My favorite spot. I take my usual seat in front of the stand. I reach into my left pocket for my cigarettes. My right for my zippo. And into my pants pocket for the ten bucks i toss at Sho for my usual Chicken Lo Mein and two fortune cookies I have been getting from him the last 20 years. Tip included. The name's Reed, Jake Reed. I'm a detective, and im on dinner break. "Gimmie a cup of dat Sake, willya?", I say to Sho "Aren't you on duty?", he says back to me in that hilarious asian accent. I reply... "I'm on break!" At that instance, a figure leaps clean through the stand. Startling the customers. Nothing appears to be damaged until the second figure shows up... crashing into the stand sending my noodles flying somewhre east and Sho's daily earnings in all directions. The son of a bitch gets up and looks directly at me. Some sack of shit with a patch on his eye. He takes off after the trenchcoated figure who lept throught he stand. As i reach into my trenchcoat for my twin .45's with the infrared scopes, only one thing crossed my mind at that point...my break...was cut short. SOMEBODY'S GOIN TO JAIL ... I go in pursuit of the eye-patched man. He's in pursuit of the trenchcoated figure. The chase leads to an alley. At the end of this alley is a chained gate. The trenchcoted figure hops onto the gate to climb it... The lightning strikes... The figure looks back...she's female. Brown eyes. She's beautiful. The eye patched man draws his gun to shoot at her. I aim my .45's for his shoulders. I hold them upside down. I'm weird like that. I graze one shoulder and I hit the other one. He drops. The chick gets away. I approach the gate and i yell out... "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!" She runs on. The eye patched man is lying on his stomach, I kick him over to his side. I say to him... "Guess what asshole, you cut my break short! You're goin' to JAIL!" At that moment he looked up at me as the rain hit his face. The thunder rumbled... And he spoke one word... "BULLSHIT!" A car crashes through the gate. I dive for safety. The driver reaches out as the car is in motion and grabs the eye-patched man as it speeds off. I pick up my fidora. I reach into my left pocket for my cigarettes. My right for my zippo. I light one up and say to myself... "SHIT! Now i gotta chase this cock sucka!" END CHAPTER ONE.