Tag: drama

Trunk Stories

Small Town Values

prompt:  Write a story in which two people who know each other are introduced — but neither person admits to knowing the other….
available at Reedsy

Few things require the level of careful discretion as Tamara Pike’s life. As a sheriff’s deputy in a lazy backwater in the middle of the Bible Belt, who happens to be African American, and a lesbian, and kinky, it meant hiding. She couldn’t hide her color or her gender, but everything else about her personal life was sealed up tight anywhere within a 100-mile radius of home.

She spent weekends with her “boyfriend” Thomas in the city, bringing back pictures of them out to dinner, with friends, with his family. He’d even visited her at work a couple times to sell it. In reality he was a close friend from college, and they shared outings to the BDSM club in the city, where they would comment on the women and he’d go find a Domme to satisfy his itch and she’d meet up with her girl.

She spent every weekend she could with Katy, the cute, red-headed coed with a single, bright-green braid at her right temple. She would hear her squeals of delight in her dreams. Katy was far more experienced, and was opening Tamara up to new levels of play. They’d ended their last long weekend with Katy gifting Tamara with a new flogger and a promise of teaching her how to use it. At the leather goods store they looked at collars. “I know it’s too early,” Katy had said, holding one of the collars up for inspection, “but if you decide to put one on me, I’m not opposed to being yours.”

Tamara was glad that she was dark-skinned enough that the blush she felt rising while remembering that wouldn’t be visible. She shook her head to clear it and reported to the morning briefing. After handing out the usual assignments, and making sure everyone had at least two Narcan auto-injectors, Tamara left the noisy pit to head out on patrol.

“Tamara!” The Sheriff, while usually friendly, was overly so. “Come by my office for a minute before you head out.”

“On my way, Sheriff Mercer!” Tamara checked her belt, holster, badge, radio, and name tag to make sure everything was straight.

“You know better than that, call me Jim!” he called out.

“Okay! On my way Sheriff Jim!” Even if they did this routine two or three times a week it never seemed to get old to him, so she kept it up. This time, however, she heard a female’s laughter with his.

“She got you, Dad!” the female said.

The voice sounded familiar somehow. Tamara turned the corner into the Sheriff’s office to see red hair, with a single bright-green braid at the temple. It was Katy. She held her face as still as possible, trying to not think about Katy writhing as she… stop thinking about it!

“Deputy Sergeant Tamara Pike, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Katy.” Jim was glowing with fatherly pride, Katy looked like a deer in the headlights. “She’s in college to become a yak herder.”

“Lame,” Katy said, regaining her composure and punching his arm. “Try harder.” Turning to Tamara she said “I’m actually studying Criminal Law.”

Tamara knew that already, but recycled what she had told her when they first talked. “That’s a tough field, you must be one of the smart kids on campus.”

Katy had initially been hurt that Tamara had called her kid, but that was months ago, and knew now that there was nothing hurtful meant by it. “I am,” she replied.

Jim looked at her, confusion crossing his face. “You admit you’re a…” His comment was cut off by another punch in the arm.

“Smart, I mean,” Katy pouted. “I’m not a kid, I just didn’t want to be rude to your friend.” Standing behind her father half a step she mouthed “Oh my god!”

Tamara laughed. “I’ll remember that.” Inside she was screaming. If she had known who Katy was, or rather who Katy’s father was, she would never have spoken to her. She maintained her calm exterior, and saw Katy give a thumbs-down gesture, the hand signal that replaced a safe-word when unable to speak. Tamara’s nod was slight, just enough to let Katy know that she had her back.

Jim looked at Katy and back to Tamara. “I hate to ask, but could you drop her at home? I’ve got a meeting with the county prosecutor coming up.”

“Sure, Jim,” Tamara said. “Katy, right? Anything you need to grab or are you ready to go?”

“Just my backpack. I’ll see you out front,” Katy said.

Tamara walked out to her cruiser to wait, eavesdropping on the conversation of two other deputies.

“I swear, if I knew Tate had a daughter like that…,” Carter said. “You so much as look at that girl sideways and you’ll be castrated before you can blink,” Jones replied. They were silent for a moment before Carter spoke again. “I just can’t believe he has a kid, and she looks like that!”

Tamara decided she’d heard enough. “Why don’t y’all get out there on patrol, before the sheriff makes a necklace out of your little man-bits?” It had taken a while to get past the push-back from her promotion to sergeant, especially as the only woman and the only African American in the department. Once the dust settled, and two less-than-stellar deputies left the force, the rest of the men grew to respect her, as evidenced by the way they could all tease each other.

“I…,” Carter started. “I was gonna say something about size, but you’d just twist it and make me look stupid.”

“That’s because it’s easy,” Jones said. “Besides, Pike got the brains in her family.”

“Hey!” Tamara laughed. “Who are you calling ugly?”

Jones laughed and Carter asked “Did I miss something?”

“Yes, Carter, you did.” Jones waved. “We’re 10-41, Sergeant.”

Katy exited the building ten minutes later, carrying a large backpack filled to bursting. As much as Tamara wanted to rush to help her, doing so in front of the Sheriff’s office window might not be the best idea. Instead she keyed her radio. “Base, 214 is 10-41 with a civilian ride-along.”

Katy approached and Tamara took the backpack and placed it in the back seat before opening the front passenger door for her. “Why did you call that in?” Katy asked in a forced whisper. “Now everyone knows I’m riding with you.”

“It’s either that or you ride in back.” Tamara got in and started the cruiser. “It’s just the rules, and you know how I am about rules.”

Katy’s face grew pink. “Yeah, I mean, yes, ma’am.”

As they left the center of town and got closer to the farm where the sheriff lived Tamara finally spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me… no, that’s not right. Why didn’t I ask when I first heard you name?”

“Why didn’t I ask you what county you worked in? I never would’ve thought you’d be hired here. Besides, I really didn’t expect to come back,” Katy said, “at least not before I came out. Preferably over a video call. From a state or two away.”

“You realize that if your dad figures us out I’m literally dead.” Tamara realized her hands were beginning to cramp from her death-grip on the wheel, so she forced herself to relax and take a deep breath. “I don’t mean that in the ‘literally as figuratively’ way, either. I mean Jim will take me out to the river, put one in my head and dump me where I’ll wash out to the ocean.”

“He wouldn’t,” Katy said. “Would he?”

“If you weren’t planning on coming back, why are you here?” Tamara shook her head. “That didn’t sound right. As freaked out as I am, I’m glad to see you. I was planning on spending next weekend with you anyway. But what’s wrong that you had to visit sooner than you wanted to?”

“Remember, I told you how Mom moved us away when I was little?” Katy asked. When Tamara nodded she continued. “I see Dad once every few months: birthdays, graduation, a few holidays. But, Mom and I don’t get along. We don’t even talk. When Mom found me with my first girlfriend at 16, she basically disowned me. Kicked me out the day I turned 18.”

“Shit, Katy. I didn’t know that.”

“Because I don’t talk about it. I never told Dad, because I wanted to stay in the city. But I’m over it.” Katy focused on her hands, folded in her lap. “I didn’t know how over it I was until I got the call last night. Mom died. It’s only right I tell Dad to his face.”

“Is that going to be a tough discussion?”

“It was easier, and harder than I thought it would be.” Katy looked at Tamara. “Why do you think it took me so long to grab a backpack?”

“Wow. So, how did he take it?”

“He told me how he was here for me, and if I needed anything to let him know.” Katy shrugged. “Kind of what I expected of him.”

“So how long are you here?”

“I’m taking a sabbatical. I’ll finish out the semester remotely, then probably start back next spring.”

“I don’t know if I can keep us secret that long,” Tamara said. “Unless you can come up with a good excuse why you’ll need to go to the city with me every weekend.”

“I’m going to tell him,” Katy said. “Tonight. I’m coming out. I won’t tell him about you, unless that’s what you want.”

“I’m still afraid Jim will kill me,” Tamara said. “But I’ll be there for moral support.”

“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.”

They pulled up to the farm house, and Tamara carried Katy’s backpack into the front room. “I’ll stop by after my shift.”

They embraced and shared a deep kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

After her shift Tamara changed out of her uniform and was heading out to her truck when Jim stopped her. “If you don’t have any plans why don’t you come by the house? We’ll have some dinner and hang out for a while.”

“Sure.” She’d been wondering what excuse to give to show up, but he made it easier for her. “What time?”

“If you don’t have anything else to do could you head over now?” he asked. “Katy gets bored, and I’d hate for her to reorganize the cupboards or something.”

“No problem, Sheriff Mercer.”

“Call me – eh, never mind. I’ll be home in an hour or so.”

The entire drive, Jim’s failure to respond as she’d expected to the joke ate at her. Does he know? Oh god, is he going to kill me? Maybe he’ll just fire me, or arrest me for… something.

The first words Tamara said as she entered the house were “I’m dead.” She told Katy what had happened, how their usual joke had fallen flat. Unable to relax, Tamara and Katy commiserated, wondering how much trouble they were in. Tamara considered running away together, trying to piece the logistics together in her head.

Jim walked into the house and took one look at the two. “Why so glum?”

“Daddy, I,” Katy began, then faltered. She looked at Tamara and then back at Jim. “I’m afraid you’ll hate me, but I have to tell you the truth. I’m…,” she faltered.

Jim looked at her with mock concern. “You’re what? A murderer? A drug dealer? The person who’s been stealing parts from the salvage yard? If it ain’t one of those then I got no reason to hate you. Even if was one of those I don’t think I’d hate you. I’d be mighty disappointed, but never hate.”

“I’m gay.”

“I know. So what?” He smiled and scooped up his daughter in a warm embrace. “I’ve known since you were 12 and getting googly-eyed every time you saw the lead girl on that annoying show you watched. But I have a confession to make, and you both might be mad at me for it, at least for a little while.”

“What’s that?”

“I sent you home with Tamara, and invited her over, in hopes you two…,” he shrugged. “She’s got a fake boyfriend in the city. We all pretty much know she’s gay, but we play along. She worries that some of the other folks in town aren’t as understanding.” Jim sat in his armchair. “I just wish she’d settle down, rather than hang out at that weird club in the city.”

“Wait, you all know!? Even Carter?” Tamara was floored.

“Well,” Jim said, “Carter may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’m sure Jones or someone’s filled him in by now.”

“But, the club…” Tamara felt her heart sink. “How did you know about that?”

“That Blaine fellow on the county board,” Jim said. “Told me he followed you there on three weekends. Thought he could use it as some sort of leverage.” Jim laughed. “When I threatened to arrest him for stalking he decided he didn’t know anything and wasn’t going to say anything.”

Katy looked at Tamara, and before she could respond said “Sorry, Tamara. Dad, I’m the girl she visits in the city.”

Jim looked at the two of them, his eyes wide. “You mean, I just tried to play matchmaker but I’m too late?” He let out a roaring belly laugh. “You two will be the death of me yet.”

“So, um, Sheriff,” Tamara asked, “does this change anything?”

“Between you and me? No. Between Katy and me? No. Between you two, it sure does. First, I expect to see a lot more of my future daughter-in-law outside of work,” he said. “Second, you’d best get to work on earning that promotion to detective. You want to have a good income before you two tie the knot.”

“Excuse me?” Tamara said. “How do you see that working in this town?”

“Easy. You go to the Episcopal Church and have a ceremony.” He snapped his fingers. “Done.”

“Dad, do you really think anyone in this town would be okay with that?” Katy’s distrust was clear on her face. “They’re mostly like mom. She kicked me out as soon as I was 18 and disowned me because I’m an evil, wicked sinner. With all your campaign talk of ‘small-town values’ I thought you’d treat me the same.” 

“Listen, I don’t know what ‘small-town values’ means in the big city, but I’ve made it clear what it means to me. At least in town-hall meetings and campaigns.” Jim sighed. “It means that drug dealers go to jail, addicts go to rehab, and if I find out who’s stealing parts from the wrecking yard they’re going to work it off. It means we’re all like family, and we take care of our own.”

Katy grabbed Tamara’s hand. “Do you really think we could walk down the street like this and not get called names, or beat up, or worse?”

“Do I think it won’t rile anyone up? No,” he said. “Do I think they’ll get over it in time? Sure. Just like they did over Tamara herself, once they got to know her. There’s one or two who won’t, but they don’t matter anyway. And what idiot would be stupid enough to assault a law enforcement officer? Especially one that can kick their ass?”

“The Simmons already call me some pretty horrible things.” Tamara sighed. “Of course the rebel flags and swastika tattoos make their feelings pretty obvious.”

“I wouldn’t worry over-much about them. Boys like that have a tendency to put themselves behind bars.” Jim pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “If y’all don’t mind, I’m ordering pizza for dinner.”

“Sure, dad, pepperoni please.” Katy’s expression was mixed, somewhere between stunned and relieved, with a touch of awkwardness thrown in.

Jim looked at the two, still holding hands. “Now if y’all don’t cheer up and hug or something I’m gonna eat by myself.”

The two smiled and hugged, sharing a chaste kiss. “Don’t get carried away now,” Jim said. “And if I ever find out you hit my little girl, I’ll bury you, Pike.”

“Dad!” Katy pulled Tamara close. “She doesn’t hit me,” she said. Then in a low voice added “unless I ask her to.”

Jim’s ears and cheeks grew pink. “Oh, the club…, no, no no no no no! Too much information! I can’t know that about you! I’m going to go bleach may brain until the pizza gets here.”

Tamara laughed. “I guess you’re right, Jim. Nothing’s changed at all.”

Trunk Stories

One Sided

prompt:  Write a story about waiting — but don’t reveal what’s being waited for until the very end….
available on Reedsy

Maria twirled her simple wedding band around her finger, the pale skin beneath stark against her sun-darkened tawny brown. “I’m not sure, but I think waiting, right now, may be the hardest part of all this.”

Emily didn’t answer, and Maria didn’t turn toward her. She’d almost gotten used to the one-sided conversations by now. She knew Emily would remain silent, but she couldn’t help continuing as if that weren’t the case.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer,” Maria said. “Then we can… I can…” she trailed off as tears welled in her eyes, blurring the view of the mountains across the inlet. She wiped her eyes and stood, taking two deep breaths. “I’m going to walk along the water for a bit.”

She walked the beach, watching the ebbing tide pull the water line further out in a slow, methodical dance. Emily used to join her on these walks. They would walk silently, admiring the view, watching the seals pop their heads up, and knowing that the other was right there. A turn of the head would prove it, but they never needed to. Maria missed that feeling.

She walked past a rock outcropping that jutted out past the high tide water line and followed the beach as it curved back inland. From here she couldn’t see the towel where Emily was, nor the umbrella over it. A small green stone caught her eye and she picked it up. Jade. Not uncommon on that beach, but something about this one called to her. A milky line ran the length of the stone; an imperfection making it perfect in its own way.

Maria remembered their last fight. Emily’s porcelain complexion turning pink under the scattering of freckles, her sunset-red hair a tousled mass of wild curls. “Did you even think to ask me first!?” Emily yelled. Maria recalled muttering an apology, which wasn’t readily accepted.

“If you weren’t my wife, I’d…” Emily’s face was drawn, her jaw tight and fists clenched at her sides.

“You’d what?” Maria was trying to  de-escalate the situation, but it seemed to her she was failing. “What would you do?”

Emily relaxed her posture and dropped her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “If you weren’t my wife I don’t know what I’d do, because I can’t imagine it.”

That, and a slew of apologies had been the end of it. Maria couldn’t remember what the fight had been about. She rubbed the little piece of jade and stuffed it her pocket. The breeze off the inlet was cold, and she pulled her jacket closer as she set off further up the beach.

She reached the point where the beach became too rocky to walk comfortably and turned back around. A bank of dark clouds was moving in from the south. “Please take your time, rain. Don’t come too soon.”

Maria stopped at the outcropping, not wanting to turn the corner and see the umbrella marking the spot on the beach where she’d left Emily. A bob of seals surfaced in the middle of the inlet and made a bee-line for the far, rocky shore. Maria thought their behavior odd until she saw the orca surface a mere hundred yards away from them. From its size it looked young. “Did you get separated from your pod, little one?” I’m talking to clouds and whales now, I’m not alright, am I?

She thought about pulling out her phone and snapping some pictures, but realized that if she did she would look back at her text messages again. Instead she concentrated on finding more interesting stones.

After finding and discarding a dozen stones and two pieces of sea glass she decided it was time to move back around the outcropping. She kept her eyes on the horizon, where the inlet opened into the sea, and walked. When she reached the towel she kept walking. The idea of sitting down with Emily to wait wasn’t appealing. She would have walked to the sea, but the river cutting the beach just fifty yards down the shore stopped her.

With nothing better to do Maria returned and sat on the towel, her back to Emily, her eyes fixed on the clouds moving in from the south. “This isn’t supposed to be us. We’re not supposed to…” she choked up as tears pooled and her vision swam. This time she let them flow.

“You promised me, Em. You promised.” Maria half wished the clouds would hurry up and drown her. “I can’t keep going like this.”

She pulled the jade from her pocket and a fat tear landed on it, turning its muted color bright. “I found this. It’s like us: a big divide in the middle, but it’s still perfect.” Maria pulled her knees up let her head fall there. “We were perfect, weren’t we?” She cried, great wracking sobs pulled from her soul, all the tears she’d held for too long. “We were… perfect.”

Maria wasn’t sure how long she cried, but when she stopped she felt hollow. Like there was nothing left to feel. The clouds were now gathering directly above and the wind was shifting, gusting in from the south. “I know we were hoping for a warm day with offshore winds, but it looks like it won’t happen. Sorry, babe.”

Maria patted her large bag once, to reassure herself it was actually there. She pulled her phone from her pocket and began looking through her text messages. “I tried calling your mother to let her know, but she still won’t pick up,” she said. “I sent her a text, and told her it was urgent, but she won’t call back. I don’t feel right telling her in a text message or a voice mail. You’d think after calls and messages every day for three weeks she’d… I don’t know, do something.” She was about to complain, again, about how Emily’s mother had cut her out of her life when they married, but she was interrupted by the sound of cars parking, doors opening and closing, and quiet conversation. Their friends, some from out of state, were all here, their faces gloomier than the gathering skies.

The group gathered around her. “We’re here, it’s time,” one of them said. Maria slung her oversized bag over her shoulder and followed them to the water’s edge. “They’re here,” Maria said. “Come on, babe, it’s time.” Still without looking she pulled the urn from her bag and cradled it close. “Just one last kiss before I let you go,” she said, and kissed the top of the urn before dumping Emily’s ashes in the retreating sea.

Trunk Stories

The Visit

prompt: “We all have a favorite day of the week. Make a story where your protagonist has a favorite day. Use emotions that will let the reader know why this day is the favorite day of the week. Show, don’t tell.”

Alice had often wondered what people in a coma experienced. Now she didn’t. Long hours of nothing, followed by the awareness of others. This, punctuated by the repeated, excruciating effort to move, open her eyes, make a sound, scream, anything to tell them, “I’m still here!”

Voices came clear to her. The doctors would speak about her as if she didn’t exist. The nurses were more careful, speaking as if to include her. One of them told her everything. Car accident, the other driver’s fault. Saturday the 14th on highway 512. Head injury. In surgery they had removed a small piece of her skull to relieve the pressure, and “when you’re more healed, they’ll replace it with a metal plate.”

Alice tried to imagine what she looked like with her head shaved. All those beautiful curls she grew out since the age of twelve gone. She wondered if her face was getting pale, her own coffee-with-cream complexion already lighter than her big sister Nicole’s, with her red-brown skin and black hair. Unlike her big sister, people referred to Alice as “mixed.” She hated the term, and would respond by saying “No, unlike you, both of my parents are humans.”

I shouldn’t worry about my skin and hair when I can’t even move. Besides, what about my curves? I’m gonna get all bony and gross. Then, more attempts to move. Maybe a finger if she concentrated hard enough….

Things happened to her at regular intervals, others in the room, the sounds of something close to her head. “I’m changing your IV now, sweetie” followed by coolness entering her arm. Other things happened at less regular intervals, things that meant she was helpless. “We’re going to change your linens and wash you now.” Being lifted by strong arms, the warmth of the damp cloth which left her chilled before drying with the rough towel. “Time for a little exercise,” and they manipulated her limbs, fingers and toes curled and extended. She wanted to say “If that’s exercise then I’m already a fitness model.” Since she couldn’t speak she would imagine the words at them as hard as possible.

The days passed in much this vein for, she guessed, three or four weeks now. Frustration, exertion, failure and the ever-growing despondency of “What happens if I never wake up?” Amid all this, time became an elusive thing, always outside her ability to perceive, except to know it passed, punctuated weekly by her one bright spot.

“Hey pookie-butt! I brought you some music.” Nicole’s voice was like spring after a hard winter. Her presence like a spotlight shining on her. Or was she experiencing synesthesia now?

No matter, now that Nicole was here, it was Saturday. That meant another week down, but another whole day with her sister. Before the accident, listening to her sister prattle on about her dating successes and failures, and her nine-to-five in a cubicle farm in Seattle was annoying. Now, however, pretending at normal, even for a day, was the greatest gift she could imagine.

“Todd, that I told you about last week? Yeah… not so much.” Nicole’s hands were cool against her own, it must be cold out again. “He got mad that I cancelled going to the concert with him tonight. Can you believe that? Like he’s more important than you.”

Alice wanted nothing more than to grab her sister’s hand and tell her how much she loved her. The sound of music, N.E.R.D. Seeing Sounds, filled the room. Her sister’s music tastes didn’t match her own, but this was the favorite of her junior year in high school.

“I haven’t listened to this since you made me way back when.” Nicole’s voice moved across the room. “Oh, thanks.” The smell of… was that mom’s baked mac and cheese? But she only made that for…. “God, Alice, you’ve got the sweetest nurses. You can’t see it, but they put up a big birthday banner for you, and they were nice enough to heat my lunch.”

It couldn’t be her birthday yet. Unless she lost days somewhere. If it was her birthday that would mean Nicole was visiting on a Thursday. “What day is it!?” She tried to scream.

“I’m sorry I won’t be here for your actual birthday, but I figured we’d celebrate early.”

The first thing I’ll say when I wake up is “I love you so much.”

“I wasn’t sure what to get you, but it’s down to a new phone, or a new coffee mug with a kitten picture. I’m pretty sure you don’t want the phone, but if you do, all you have to do is say so, in the next sixty seconds.”

No, the first thing I’ll say when I wake up is “you’re an ass, jerk-face.” Then I’ll tell her I love her.

Other than the music there was silence. It carried on far too long. When one song ended, and before the next started, she heard it. Sniffles. Nicole was crying. “No. No, nonononono… it’s ok, jerk-face” she wanted to say. Anything to comfort her.

“I’m sorry, pookie-butt. Guess I’m not a very good sister. I made you birthday mac and cheese, and I’m sitting here eating it…” she choked on her words. “Damn it, I thought it would help, but I just want you to call me names, or tell me to shut up. Sorry to cry all over you.”

Alice felt a kiss on her cheek, and her own tears. No, first thing is definitely “love you, jerk-face.”

She felt Nicole wiping her own tears away. “Listen, munchkin. I know you can hear me, and I’m sorry if I made you sad.”

No, not sad, just too full of happy to keep it in. Why wouldn’t her face move, at least? Show some happy for my stupid, sweet sister.

“I didn’t get you a kitten mug. It’s a gift card, ’cause I suck at birthdays.”

Alice felt Nicole rise from beside her. She wanted to tell her that the best present ever was having her here.

“I’m sorry, baby sis. I’m gonna go clean myself up and come back. And then I can tell you about my promotion.”

Alice knew that even once she was no longer a prisoner in her own body she would spend every Saturday she could with her sister. There was nothing better in the world. And for today, she looked forward to hearing about her sister’s promotion.

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