Here’s an excerpt from one of my unpublished novels, Present and Past. It involves a twisted fantasy I used to have, one I'd never have the nerve to do in real life. There are at least two others in the book, one rather benign, the other high risk. The clip is less than 900 words, which should be about a ten-minute read:
Tony had dragged him out of bed at ten-thirty, telling him all was set. He hadn't even had time to shower. He'd cut himself shaving. The cold had retarded the bleeding of the nick in his neck. He was no longer enthusiastic about revenge. He felt com pelled to go through with, however, as Tony had gone to so much trouble to set the trap. The bait was parked across the street, an old car Tony had "found," to which he'd affixed a phony regis tration sticker and license plates. It stood alone, violating the alternate side regulation.
The street was quiet. There was a wide vacant lot at his back, a three-story apartment building at the corner to his left, a private house at the corner to his right. No one knew him here, although it was just blocks from his apartment. The entrance to the Fort Hamilton Army Base was approximately 200 yards away, at 101st Street, which was flanked by a small park. There was a dump truck idling down the street. In the background, rising majestically, stood the bridge, which spanned the narrows of Gravesend Bay and led to Staten Island.
He shook his head, chuckling, wondering how Tony had come up with the idea. He hoped residents wouldn't become wary of his loitering and summon the police. The neighborhood was peaceful, one of the best in the borough. He would miss it, even though he wasn't planning on being away long. He feared he would never see it again, that he would be involved in a fatal automobile accident somewhere in middle America. He shuddered at the thought. He was not ready to die. And when his time came he wanted to die in New York, preferably Brooklyn. He couldn't stand the thought of dy ing anywhere else. He wondered, should he meet success, if he would move to L.A. permanently. He couldn't imagine it. He would be bicoastal, a term at which he’d sneered. He smiled to himself, realizing he was fantasizing.
Soon a three-wheeled vehicle cruised down the street and stopped behind the car. It was one of the newer, sturdier models with the wide base. The older had been taller and narrower, seemingly vulnerable to a stiff wind. He didn't think he would be able to topple this one with a shove. He wouldn't even try. They would go to Plan Two. He wondered if the city had adopted the newer model in response to vandalism.
A young black woman exited the vehicle and positioned herself beside the front windshield of the car. She looked familiar but he wasn't sure it was his nemesis. He crossed the street preten ding to be looking into the distance. She was so intent on her task she didn't notice him, or perhaps pretended not to. The name tag read: "Roberts." He gave a thumbs up sign to the driver of the truck, who put the huge machine in motion.
"Hi, Winnie," he said, forcing a smile to his lips, wary lest she resort to violence. "It's pay back time. This's for all the money you've taken from the good people of this neighborhood, es pecially me. You better stand aside."
Wary, as if she feared being pummeled, her eyes narrowed. They widened suddenly at the approach of the truck, which had no ident ification markings. She fled from its path as it violated the oncoming lane. At the helm was Tony, laughing uproariously, boun cing in the seat to the rough ride, blowing the horn, filling the street with its blare. He swerved to get an angle on the traffic vehicle, then bore down on it, driving it against the curb, where its wheels wedged, holding it in place momentarily until it succumbed to the force of the larger machine and crumpled like an accordion. The truck climbed onto the sidewalk, toppling and crushing what remained of the battered vehicle with a chill ing crackling of metal and shattering of glass. Debris flew in all directions. Freddie was relieved there were no pedestrians about. The car, emergency brake left unengaged, rolled out of harm's way as it was struck by the truck's fender. Officer Roberts stood bewild ered. Suddenly Freddie felt sorry for her. She seemed conscien tious rather than heartless.
"It's only fair, Win'," he said, in no hurry, as she was clearly stunned, frozen in place. "You really should get a nicer job and stop stealing from your neighbors."
He felt foolish in trying to justify himself. The act was excessive. He regretted it.
Tony sounded the horn, which beckoned like that of a ship sailing the narrows on a foggy night. People were at win dows and out on porches and stoops, observing. Some cheered. Traffic was backed up, yet there was no honking of horns. It was eerily placid.
Tony was laughing heartily as Freddie climbed into the cab. Officer Roberts recovered and pursued on foot as the truck moved away. Tony gave her the finger, howling as the truck barreled toward the intersection, where the light was green.
"Bye," said Tony, waving, as Roberts came to a halt.
"I think she got the plate number," said Freddie, shouting above the din.
"Yeah, that'll do 'er good. You think I'd be dumb enough to use a real one?"
It was a quiet day at the floating book shop. The most interesting moment came when I felt an itch on my right forearm. I saw what I thought was a slender frond from a plant -- then it started moving. I'd never seen a bug like it in NYC. It was less than an inch long, razor-thin and olive green. I wonder if it hitched a ride from some exotic local. I flicked it into the garden in front of the Chase bank, hoping it wasn't carrying disease. I wasn't bitten.
My thanks to the two kind folks who bought books in Russian, and to author Bill Brown, who donated four books on the Bush family.
Vic's 4th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic's Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic's 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic's Horror Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3
Vic's Rom-Com Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kny5llp
Vic’s Short Story on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/k95k3nx
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