By jim vecchio
Police Detective Geiger waved the portly cowboy into the tiny room, shutting the door. There was precious little space beyond a small wooden table surrounded by three chairs.
A tall, bushy haired man in a plain black suit was seated in one of the chairs. He had a tape recorder, note paper, and pen in front of him. Geiger and the cowboy each took one of the other chairs.
"This man is Sergeant Edward Mars," explained Geiger to the Cowboy.. "He is here to assure procedures and policies are followed. This is an extremely confidential session, as I promised. Would you state your name for the record?"
"C'mon, Geiger, you know who I am!"
Geiger's tone sharpened. "For the record!"
"Wendigo. Oliver Wendigo."
"Mister Wendigo, would you repeat your story, please?"
"All's I know is he has her. He took her. He came out the back door and grabbed her. I drew it in my sketchbook just as soon as I could."
The Cowboy pulled a small rolled-up pad from his pocket and handed it to Geiger. Geiger and Mars examined it. Mars gave it a curious look.
"I'm no artist, you know," said the Cowboy.
It was just a charcoal sketch on white paper, showing a hand obscured by darkness tugging the ten year old girl forward. It could have been any girl, but this one's hair was wind-tossed, revealing a small red cross on her neck. There was also something odd about the background.
"I also heard her screams," said the Cowboy.
Geiger and Mars perused the sketch, exchanging grim nods.
Mars, who had never met this Cowboy previously, asked, ", "Mister Wendigo, just when did you witness this incident?"
"Last night," the cowboy replied, "In my dream."
"Your dream?"
"Geiger will tell you. Sometimes, well, sometimes I see things."
Geiger turned to Mars and whispered, "Remember the Callahan case. He triggered Joel Cowan for us!"
"But Callahan was found dead!"
"I didn't say he was good," said Geiger, "just that he knows certain things we don't!"
Mars stood, produced a set of handcuffs, and placed it on the Cowboy's wrist. "It's my duty to inform you that you are under arrest, Mister Wendigo. You have the right..."
"I know my rights!" screamed Wendigo. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Mars replied, ", "Because only four people knew of her cross-shaped birthmark- Irene herself, her mom, Geiger, and me!"
As he was led away, Wendigo continued from the hallway, "So a couple of small scratch marks on a piece of paper are enough to brand me a kidnapper, or possibly a murderer?"
When he was gone, Geiger turned to Mars with a quizzical look. "Are you prepared for formal charges?"
"No. Not Wendigo. But I believe he knows something. We can keep him on suspicion for a bit, and, nothing arising, we'll let him go and see what happens next."
Geiger added, "Good. Good. Because there's something odd about that drawing, and I want to find out more about it."
Mars looked puzzled this time and said, "Oh yeah! That strange figure in the background, sort of a triangular background. But what is it? And what's that figure?"
Geiger finally figured it out. "Rather crudely drawn, but it's a...goat...A goat standing on a hill!"
It's been awhile since I posted a chapter. Thus far, there were three chapters posted. However, for some unexplainable reason, Chapter One drifted into another space-time continuum, and could be found nowhere on the site. I located my rough draft and pieced it together to re-post the first chapter.
Chapter Four will come soon.
By jim vecchio
Characters:
Oliver Wendigo, known as Cowboy, who is gifted with visions, not of his own control
Police Detective, Art Geiger, who previously worked with Wendigo on a case.
Sergeant Edward Mars
Cowboy was granted a vision of a young girl’s abduction, but not the face of the perpetrator. There was a blurry background image of a goat on a hill.
Chapter Two
Geiger took out his key and opened the holding cell, freeing the cowboy from his temporary imprisonment.
“Sorry, cowboy,” he said.
Wendigo responded, “Yeah, I know. You had to put on a show for Mars!”
“You got it!” Geiger smirked. “I had to make it look good!”
The cowboy’s face turned grim. “Just don’t let it happen like last time. You held me up once too often, and Cowan was found dead.”
“Can I help it if those blasted visions of yours always interweave present with past or future?”
“That’s just the way they appear to me.”
“Well, cowboy, where to now?”
“To my usual first resort. Bradbury at the Bishop Room.”
The Bishop Room was the center of Bridgeport Libraries historical archives. What couldn’t be found in those archives, Bradbury could be counted on to know.
Bradbury was a dapper, bewhiskered gent in a fashionable vest and a polka-dot bow tie.
The two filled them in on their quest.
Bradbury pondered a moment and said, “I believe I have a map that will nicely meet your needs!”
From an old file, he drew out a historical map of Bridgeport.
“We just never had the funds to convert these to microfiche,” he explained.
He pointed to a section of land near the south end of the city.
“Gentlemen” he said, “This is Bridgeport in 1836. This section of the city, at that time, relied on fishing and farming, long before the city became a center for industry.”
“Farming, eh?” questioned Geiger, “Then that would entail livestock.”
“Oh, yes,” answered Bradbury, “therefore, the possibility of goats. And uncleared, hilly land.”
Exiting, Geiger turned to Wendigo.
“Looks like we begin our search in the city’s south end.”
The two paused by Geiger’s car.
Wendigo said, “You drive if you like. I need to walk!”
“But it’s a good four miles.”
“I know, but if my footprints step anywhere near his prints, I may get a message.”
“Okay, then, have it your way. Meet me by the old wooden bridge.”
Geiger was there, waiting in his car for quite a spell when the cowboy showed up. He asked outrightly, “Turn up anything?”
“Yeah. A horse!”
“Great Jiminy Crickets!” shouted Geiger, “First a goat. Now a horse!”
The cowboy continued, “Only this horse, somehow it didn’t look real. And I saw people. Faded people in the background. Dancing.”
“The horse was the vision in front?”
“No. both were sort of in the background. Oh, yeah, the song. It was an old tune. I heard it in my mind. Something I never heard before..."
“But, cowboy, what image did you see in front?”
He stared at Geiger, wide eyed. “This old bridge!”
"Then, it looks like this is where we begin our adventure..."
The gifts and calling of God are without repentance.
| Author Notes |
By jim vecchio
Characters:
Oliver Wendigo, known as Cowboy, who is gifted with visions, not of his own control, It was revealed his visions are often mingled with one or more past and/or future visions in the background.
Police Detective, Art Geiger, who previously worked with Wendigo on a case.
Sergeant Edward Mars
Last time: Seeking a kidnapped young girl, Wendigo and Geiger searched Bridgeport’s South End. Wendigo revealed a vision of his concerning an unreal horse, with people dancing to an old tune in the background.
Meanwhile, CHAPTER THREE begins in the West End of the city.
Anna Karena had no brother named Stepan. She had no lover, like Count Alexei Kirrllovich, particularly Alex Bronsky, from the WNAB newsroom, and no husband such as Alexeo Karenin.
Yet, for her TV News persona, she selected the name, Karenina. It smacked of elegance and intrigue.
Bronsky was having one of his usual disputes with Karenina.
“Why aren’t you satisfied with reading my copy in the Newsroom? You’ve become a prominent figure here, Anna.”
“It’s Karenina. And I want to do investigative reporting.”
“Just like every comedian wants to do tragedy. And vice versa.’
“Look, Alex, we got a story out there and I’m going to follow it and that’s that!”
“Just make sure you come back in one piece, An-I mean, Karenina!”
Alex knew he couldn’t talk Anna out of anything when her mind was made up. He sure couldn’t nursemaid this strong-willed woman. Yet, he vowed to do whatever he could to protect her, if only this newsroom did not keep him so chained to his desk.
The kidnapping of the Winslet girl continued to make front page headlines. Anna was bound and determined to insert her name in this story and prove her worth to the newsroom in a radically new light.
Her first instinct was to go to the girl’s mother, but ongoing police presence deterred her from it. Right now, any more intrusion might impact on the young girl’s safety.
She’d bide her time, wait for the right moment.
She had no real starting point, yet the whole city could be holding secrets. She needed someplace quiet, someplace to think things out. Anything but the newsroom.
Whenever she needed thinking room, she always found herself at the abandoned stretch of land over the South Side Bridge. She had plenty of room to walk, to think, to formulate.
Driving over the rickety old bridge, she saw the car driven by Geiger. She parked alongside, exited, and followed their visible trail to a splintery old platform. The two were standing by it.
Geiger instantly recognized Anna as Karenina, the local news reporter.
“This is the site of the old merry-go-round,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Geiger. “And you’re awful grown up and many years late to buy a ticket.”
Wendigo tipped his hat and shook her hand.
“Nice seeing you again, cowboy!” she said.
“Karenina’s okay,” said Wendigo. “I’ve helped her before. Usually, she’s behind a desk.”
“I’ve decided to broaden my horizons,” she smirked.
Geiger spoke sternly. “Any information you gather, anything you report, has to be filtered through me.”
“Of course. Now, if you’ll just tell me what you two are doing here…”
Wendigo explained the situation to her. “I figure the horse image was that of a carousel horse, like the ones that used to be here.”
Anna asked, “And the music?”
Geiger jumped into the conversation. “There used to be an old dance hall here. You know, where couples slow danced, actually touched one another, and fell in love.”
“The music you heard,” replied Karenina. “What was the song?”
“I don’t know, “ said Wendigo. “It went something like this: da-da-dum dum da duh duh dum…Oh, I don;’t know.”
“You sure are no singer, cowboy!” she laughed.
“Never claimed to be,” said Wendigo.
“Well,” said Geiger, “Looks like we hit a dead end.”
“Maybe not,” said Karenina, “Just follow me. I think I know someone who could help us.”
Geiger and Wendigo followed Karenina’s auto. She parked in front of an apartment that had gone into disrepair a couple of decades earlier.
“The elevator stopped working awhile back,” Karenina said.
She led them up a flight of dirt-caked stairs to a faded red doorway.
She politely knocked two times, pausing, then three more.
“Come in, Karenina,” said the voice.
“It’s my special knock,” she explained.
The three walked in.
“Mister Curtis,” she said, “These are two friends, Arthur Geiger and Oliver Wendigo.”
“Come in,” said the old man, “Sorry I have nothing to offer you.”
“They have something to offer you,” explained Karenina, “in the form of a question.”
Then, she explained to Geiger and Wendigo, “This, gentlemen is the legendary Ray Curtis, one of the pioneers of WNAB. He used to do the Top Hit Parade show. No one knows old music like Mister Curtis does!”
“Of course,” Curtis said, “Those were the days when dancers gracefully moved and you could hum to the melodies!”
Karenina spoke to Wendigo, “Please hum that tune.”
Wendigo again da da dum duh dahed.
“Woo!” said Curtis, “You sure ain’t no singer!”
“Now, where have I heard that before?” replied Wendigo.
Karenina pleaded, “Can you tell us anything about that tune?”
Curtis said, “Well, it’s not a reasonable facsimile, but offhand, I’d say, it’s a Tommy Dorsey Fox Trot.”
“Does it have a name?” asked Karenina.
“Swing High,” said Curtis.
“Great Scorched Cats!” screamed Geiger, “Are we supposed to check all the children’s swing sets across the city?”
PSALM 31:17: She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.
Continued soon
| Author Notes |
|
By jim vecchio
| Author Notes |
By jim vecchio
Characters:
Oliver Wendigo, known as Cowboy, who is gifted with visions, not of his own control, It was revealed his visions are often mingled with one or more past and/or future visions in the background.
Police Detective, Art Geiger, who previously worked with Wendigo on a case.
Sergeant Edward Mars
Anna Karena, whose persona is Karenina, a news reporter venturing into news investigation; old friend of Wendigo.
LAST TIME: Karenina took Wendigo on a tour of the WNAB Radio Station. They met Matt And Maury, the “Sunshine Boys”, internists who have been dabbling into a bin of forgotten tapes.
As Wendigo walked out into the city, something tingled inside him, intrigued him about Matt and Maury…..
Geiger walked out into the gloaming and once more felt the need to return to that rickety old bridge where he had recently searched for clues with Geiger and Karenina.
He followed the same impulse that led him here often. He felt closer to her here.
Lord, forgive my tears. I miss her so much! Lord, you know how lonely I am without her.
Too many years had passed since he held that hand. The sign had long been torn down, but he could still see its message clearly: Welcome To Pleasure Beach Amusement Park.
He could hardly view himself as the same individual who stood there, that day, amazed. Muscular, wavy light hair, topped by the ever-present cowboy hat, the lines had not yet appeared on his face.
You recall the rumor that the park would be closing soon, and you wanted to relive some memories of your boyhood.
Calliope music from the carousel bade you onward. As you neared it, you caught your first sight of her.
Petite, blonde flowing hair, glasses three sizes too big, and looking oh, so vulnerable in that instant.
You quickened your steps, but she had run off into the midway area.
She tried to hide to the rear of the shooting gallery, but found you were already there.
“Oliver,” she said.
“You, too? You…have a gift?”
“Please don’t read too much of my mind. I couldn’t stand it!”
“I don’t do minds,” said Oliver, “I get…impressions…and I know you need some comfort right now.”
This odd meeting of you two was not as any other first encounter. Right away, you knew you could trust one another, so she offered you her hand.
"How about a cool drink?” asked Wendigo.
“Are you reading my mind again, Oliver?”
“I told you, I don’t do minds.”
Lord, I feel I could reach out, and her hand would come into mine, and the thrill of holding her close to me that first time. Please, Lord, it’s more than I can bear…I…”
You find yourself, saying out loud, “I love you…”
You sat side by side on outdoor stools.
“You know, this isn’t fair. You know my name. What’s yours?”
“Jean.”
Please, Lord, let these visions disappear! I’m not strong enough!”
Then, Wendigo remembers there is nothing The Lord can throw in his life that He won’t strengthen him to overcome. He settles back into his memories.
They walk into the Dance Hall.
Oliver bows, touches her hand and asks, “Will you join me in a dance?”
“Yes,” she responds. “I…I know I’m…safe with you.”
That first dance. A fox trot…just like…
Suddenly she is aware of a pair of angry eyes from a corner of the hall. She shivers, bolts for the door.
Oliver ran after her, reaching and comforting her in a gentle embrace.
“I’m sorry, Oliver, I…”
No words need be said. You know, she has suffered at the hands of men.
“Jean, I ask nothing. I just feel alive…more alive than I’ve ever been…just being with you. I won’t pry. I…”
“Yes, I know,” she responds. “I know you’ll never hurt me.” Adding, “You’re not like the others.”
The calendar pages flip quickly through your mind. She now has come to your family homestead, a large farmhouse on 30 acres of land in rural Connecticut, bounded by picturesque, steep mountains.
As always, she rests in the room adjacent to you. You lie on your bed, hoping to control your thoughts. That your feelings won’t be known to her.
You fall asleep. Her face dances within your mind. The softness of her skin. Her scent, more fragrant than the meadow wildflowers, her lips, they promise a taste sweeter than honey…
You are awakened by her presence by your bedside.
“You…Your brain, and your heart, they called out to me.”
“I’m so sorry, Jean. I couldn’t help my thoughts. I would never…”
“I know,” she says quietly. “And I know you’re a good man. I just want you to know, I will freely give you…”
The pages turn once more. Jean has consented to be your wife. Those next three years are the happiest you’ve ever been.
You remember that winter, when you and Jean tore through the snow on those snowmobiles, joined by children from the area. It made you want…
“A child! We’re going to have a child!”
“I promise to love you and be a good father, but…”
“Oliver, I have something I have to say to you.”
“Yes, and I’ve got a confession, also. You go first, darling.”
“I was never completely honest with you. You were the first kind man I’ve ever known, and was afraid...”
“Jean, you know I love you with all my heart. Please never be afraid to speak freely to me.”
“It’s everything. Everything about me. You know why I’m called ‘Jean’? It’s a sick joke!”
“I feel it now, something, something from your past..”
“I told you, I had no real family. I lied about the foster homes. I lived most of my early life in a laboratory. The men, they, they experimented on me. On my genes. DNA information is within the human gene. Hence my name.”
“Is that how you gained your..”
“My power? Yes. They did things to my mind. That’s the result. When I ran off, they sent men to follow. They may do so again.”
“I will protect you, don’t worry, Jean.”
“But, what if my child…? Oh, let’s not waste time worrying and enjoy these moments while we have them.”
“Tell you what, love, let’s go conquer that old mountain up there!”
“Okay, Oliver,” she giggles, “Last one up is…well, try and read my mind!”
“I don’t do minds.”
As you run off towards the mountain, you slip and fall. Jean takes advantage of the situation to sprint up the jagged rock and hoist herself onto a ledge, peering down at you.
So much like a stray lamb on a risky hill, you think.
Your games over, you return to the kitchen, where Jean fixes some hot chocolate.
“Say, Oliver, didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me?”
“I suppose this should wait, but honey, I’m feeling rather guilty right now.”
“Why, my sweet? You’ve done everything a good husband should do!”
“I haven’t, Jean, I haven’t.”
“What else is there? You’re a good man, a faithful, loving husband, now you’ve given me a child to bear, what else could a woman want?”
“A provider!”
“Oliver!!! How can you say that? You’ve provided me with a good home, with everything I could have wanted in life!”
“Sure, and all out of my inheritance. What kind of an example would that be to our child? A man needs to work..”
“Oliver, I can see now inside you, what you’ve been trying to say. You have a gift, and are neglecting it. If you don’t need money, at least you want to use that gift for good.”
“Thank you for saying it for me, Jean. I promise I’ll always take good care of you and the child no matter what.”
“Have you decided how you will use that power? Or shall I read it from your brain?”
“Hon, I’ll tell you. I’ve been reading in the papers about that Callaghan case. I think the police could use my services on that case.”
“If that’s what you feel you need to do, Oliver, do it with my blessing!”
You go to the Police Station. You meet Geiger. The two of you strike up an unorthodox investigation.
As you are gone, they storm your home. The labmen.
Jean grabs a kitchen knife and there is a struggle. They attempt to restrain her. She plunges it through the hand of one. The other pulls the knife from his hand and maintains a hard grip as she attempts to force her way from him and stumbles into the blade.
“The boss ain’t gonna like this,” says the one with the wound.
“Scram!” says the other, “Before her man gets back.”
You’re back at the bridge. Trying to use the present to conceal the horror of the past. You cannot bring yourself to set eyes on that blood-soaked corpse once more.
You bow to the ground, crying.
| Author Notes |
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