This choice: Tales of the Were (generic humanoid) • Go Back...
John Clark had it all, loving wife, a good daughter and decent career. A straight shooter, John had always been known as “The Guy”. Not quite an alpha, but always dependible and reliable. His wife, beauty at her peak in the late 30's. She gave up corporate life after the birth of their only child, Crista 15 years ago.
Crista and her mother were very close. John, the breadwinner spent many nights working late or even weeks on end on the road, traveling for business on the West Coast or points along the Pacific Rim. Though he was gone for much of her younger life, she loved her Dad and her mother was always quick to help her understand why daddy was gone some much.
It weighed on him, the travel, but now, entering his mid 40's the rewards were paying off. Their home was paid for and the extra dollars saved were conservatively secured in treasury bills and municilple bonds...John was looking forward to retirement.
“The last leg of the last trip”. Is how he thought about it. The airport was almost empty except for the small group of arriving travelers. The weather in Denver had delayed their flight, but thankfully not canceled it. John was ready to be home. The deal in Denver, closed with a handshake and a drink, it was a good week. The new Denver contract will keep him busy for many years and he had been given the go ahead to cross train his eager and sharp assistant Shelly Menger to take over the existing accounts. Two years out of college and the MBA to boot, she was on the fast track. At first he felt a little threatened by this new blood, but over time he saw his role mostly as a mentor for the young lady and they soon became good friends.
John sent a quick text saying he was safe and on the ground and will be catching the train home. A small handfull of people stood outside on the platform waiting. The air was cool, early fall so not quite cold. John stood reading a magazine when a small group of young people approached. They were young, early teens maybe. The boys were gangly and awkward, trying to look cool. The girls, probably the same age the oldest maybe 16 but trying to guess teen girls true ages were pointless John had come to understand. The shortest of the group was a girl, definitly younger than the others. She reminded him of some of his daughters friends from Junior High, the ones who tried too hard to look older and wore bad makeup and innapropriate clothes. The eye liner and lipstip contrasted with their light, almost pale complexions made lighter by some kind of makeup. The black lipstick is what John thought was over the top, but he did chuckle at the black Chuck Taylors they all wore. He didn't even know they made them that small when he looked at the youngest girl.
John let out a sigh as the group moved closer to him. He was tired and just wanted to get home. Having to deal with these nimrods as he called them was just a waste of energy. He turned his back slightly, and watched them out of the corner of his eye.
“Dude, where did you get that purse?” the tallest boy asked, trying his best to be a smart ass.
“It's not a purse, it's a satchel” John replied “Indiana Jones has one” he continued. Maybe using a popular movie quote would easy the tention and they would get bored and move on. He didn't dislike kids, infact he felt sorry for these young ones. He liked to believe they were just out having fun and truthfully would be going home to a nice warm home tonight.
“This jerk thinks he's a comedian” one of the older girls said.
“yeah, that movie was lame” a young boy said.
John sighed, he had unintentionally drawn them in.
“You got me” he said. “I'm really a vampire hunter, I keep holy water and a wooden stake in the bag” he continued and patted the leather cover slowly.
“Ya some vampire hunter, you don't even carry a cross” the oldest boy said. “This guy thinks he knows how to kill a vampire” he continued laughing along with the others.
“Well, thanks for the tip. I need to go get some coffee” John said and turned to walk toward the other end of the platform where some other adults were sitting.
He took about two steps and the oldest boy asked him in a menacing tone “What's in the bag mister?” The two other boys positioned them between John and open platform. He had really messed up, the part of the platform he where he was waiting was very narrow and bordered on one side by a brick wall and the train track. Without making a huge scene it was impossible for him to just walk away.
“Really guys? You are mugging me?” John asked incredulously. “Look, how about I give you 20 bucks and you can go get a burger or something. I'm tired, I'm getting mad and really I don't want you kids to get into trouble.”
The kids laughed. “No deal man. Give me the bag”. John tightend his grip, no way was he handing this over. Nothing in there was irreplacable but the time he spent getting those documents in order was irreplacable.
“Listen” he said “I'm walking down there and if you kids are gone before I turn around, I won't call the cops”.
The group laughed again. “Go ahead, call them. Call them now if you want. They won't be here for another 20 minutes, we'll be long gone” the oldest girl said.
He was relatively sure they didn't have any weapons, if they had they would have shown them by now. They were just trying to intimidate him. “I've had enough” he said and made a strong move to cut through the two boys blocking the platform.
It all happened very quickly. He remembers someone pulling on his bag, trying to lift it over his head while the youngest girl had grabbed onto his left wrist, trying to remove his watch. “It's not even expensive” he thought.
The scuffle was quick and only continued for a few seconds. The oldest boy had broken the strap and was now trying to yank the bag from his hands. John had a strong grip on the handle until the young girl bit him on the knuckle. John cussed and pulled as hard as he could yanking the bag from the grip of the boy, and more importantly his hand from the young girl's mouth.
“There is nothing in there” he shouted “it's just paperwork”.
Suddenly, a blow to the back of the head stunned him. He dropped the bag but before he could pick it up, he was pushed against the wall. The younger boy grabbed it and ran off before he could do anything. The others, seeing their companion had the prize ran after him.
John stood against the wall still stunned from the blow to the head. He heard them laughing. The oldest girl asked the youngest if she had bit him hard. She said yes and giggled. The older girl looked back and laughed harder. “oh man” she chuckled “good luck mister!” she said giggled and disapeared in the shadows.
John patted himself feeling for any other wounds. He winced as he remembered his hand and looked down. The bite had drawn blood, it was already drying but it had ran down his ring finger, a few drops sat drying on the platform concrete.
He checked his pockets, wallet and phone were still there...as was his watch. “Dumb kids” he said and dialed 911 as two other adult passengers who had noticed to ruckus arived to offer any help.
“You should get that cleaned up” an older lady said and motioned to the restrooms.
“Wait” the gentleman said. “Get a picture of that before you clean it up” and snapped a picture of the bite mark with his cell phone. John gave him his phone number so it could be sent to him.
The police came, a little quicker than the young thug had predicted. They took statements and an EMT dressed the bite on his hand. Fortunately they were able to take care of everthing before the last train. At 12:01, a little after midnight a tired and frustrated John Clark kissed his sleeping wife and layed down in his own bed. His hand throbbing from the bite of the young attacker, he worried about infection, HIV, Hepititis....you name it and it was on his mind. Finding the time to get the parties to re-sign the contracts wasn't going to be impossible but it would take time,and another trip to Denver.
The next morning he debriefed his wife on the events of the prior night. She hugged him and said she was thankfull it was only some dumb kids. She also offered to drive him to the doctor to look his hand. | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline · Recent Additions © Copyright 2024 Rachel Ramón Padovan (UN: janetplanet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Rachel Ramón Padovan has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |