TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "RANCID" - MORE URBAN FANTASY - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK

Welcome! This week our word prompt is "rancid", an ugly word for sure. We have another episode of "Midnight in Central Park", my urban fantasy. Scroll down to return to the fabulous Tuesday Tales stories. Thank you for stopping by. 

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I rushed home from school the day Ma said she’d be home early and make dinner. She was a damn fine cook. When dad lived with us, she’d prepare unbelievable meals. Like a gourmet chef.

When I opened the door, I smelled something awful, like rancid cheese. It was her dealer, Spider Malone. Abby said he was a pimp, too, but I didn’t believe it. No matter what she did, she was my mother.

I hated Spider. The guy stank. Either he never took a bath or used the wrong after shave. I couldn’t stand his smell, so I opened a window. 

“Is that the kid?”

He always called me that. I hated it.  

“Kid, that you?”

I didn’t say a word, just went to my room and locked the door. Yeah, I put a lock on. I had to lift it from the hardware store because I didn’t have the cash. With assholes like Spider around, you never knew what would go down.

I could hear him hollering for me, but I ignored it. A little guy, wiry, maybe, but not strong enough to knock down my door. The other guy with him? Maybe. I figured if I stayed quiet in my room, they’d go away, like they always did. 
They were arguing in the kitchen. I heard some loud noises, like furniture being banged around. Then the front door slammed.

I flew to the kitchen. There was Ma, sitting in a chair, bent over, her forehead touching the table.

“Ma! Ma, sit up. Ma!”

She didn’t reply, just sat there. I pulled her up by her shirt. Her nose was dripping blood and her left eye was turning black and blue.

“Did that dickwad do this to you?”

“Language, Jamie.”

“The hell with that, Ma. Who beat you up? I’m calling the police.”

She raised her hand. “No! Don’t do that. It’ll only get worse.”

“Ma we can’t let them do this to you.”

“I made a mistake.”

“What could you possible have done to justify a beating?”

“I took money from Spider. More than I had coming. I found his wallet and emptied it.”

“You took all his money?”

“It wasn’t much. Three hundred, maybe.”

“What did you do with it?”

“Had a good time. I deserve to have some fun.”

“Oh, Ma. You stole from him and bought drugs? Not your wisest move.” 

Thanks for coming. Hope you enjoyed the story. Comments are most welcome. 

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "COLORFUL" - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK

Welcome! This week's word prompt is "colorful." Again we have an episode of "Midnight in Central Park. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Don't be shy. Leave a comment. Thanks for stopping by!

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I melted butter in the pan, then cracked a few eggs. Mom always said pasta was the cheapest, most nutritious food. I figured eggs were even better. I put up a pot of coffee, hoping the aroma would wake her up.

Sure enough, she stumbled into the kitchen right before the eggs were done. I popped two pieces of bread into the toaster.

“Breakfast for dinner,” I announced.

“Jamie. What did you do?”

“Cooked, Ma. Sit down.”

She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Where did you get the money?”

“From your purse.”

She nodded, then sank down into a chair. “I’m not really hungry.”

“You gotta eat.” I spooned some eggs onto her plate.

“You’re a good boy. Did I ever tell you that?”

“Yeah, Ma. Like maybe a hundred times already.”

Someone had to take care of her. She sure wasn’t doing it herself.

“Did you take anything else from my purse?” She cast a suspicious eye on me.

“Nope.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.”

Anger rose inside me. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I wanted to smash something.  I knew what she was up to. No, I didn’t touch the baggie of cocaine she’d stashed in her bag. 

“Ma! What the fuck are you doing? Don’t be an asshole. Come on, leave that shit alone!” I yelled with everything I had. No answer.

“Ma! Fuck it! Why do I bother?”

She returned, hair combed, smiling, sniffing and wiping her nose.

“You have coffee, I have this. Just to start my day.”

“Just, just just! You have every fucking excuse in the book. When are you gonna stop?” I turned off the heat on the stove.

“I can stop anytime. I like it. Don’t worry about me. How’s school?”

“What the fuck?” I sank down in my chair and turned my gaze to my plate.

“You know I don’t like your colorful language, Jamie.” She tried like Hell to sound stern.

“Yeah, Ma. And I don’t like drugs. So, we’re even.”

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "PICK" - ANOTHER EPISODE OF "MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK"

Welcome! Thank you for coming. This week our word prompt is "pick." We have another episode of "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to go back to Tuesday Tales and read the other wonderful stories. Thanks for stopping by. 

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The sun woke me up around six thirty. Tucked into the rocks, the cops never spotted me. I swear they just sit in their building drinking coffee and telling dirty jokes. Boy, I’d love to tell them that instead of them chasing down two muggers, I had to rely on a metal dog. They’d love that, cart me off to some mental hospital.

I wondered if I could tell Trevor and Abby. Maybe. But you ready had to be there. I stretched and headed for the men’s room. Time to wash up before school. I headed over to the Bethesda Fountain where I dropped my pants and waded in. God, the cold water felt good.

I got dressed and headed off to school for early breakfast. I was hungry. I hope Mrs. Hernandez would take pity on me and give me an extra donut. Trevor and Abby didn’t need free breakfast, but they showed up early to sit with me. Made me feel less like a freak.

“Listen. Something really weird happened last night.”

“Are you okay?” Abby always cared about my welfare.

“Yeah, yeah. But something I don’t think you’re gonna believe.”

“Then why are you telling me?” Trevor asked.

“Because I have to. Sometimes you just have to tell somebody something. And you’re here.”

I told them the story while I shoveled in powdered eggs, a roll and two donuts. First, they laughed. Then their eyes grew wide.

“Can you make him come to life?” Abby was curious.

“I have no idea. I didn’t do anything. It just happened.”

“I want to see it. Can we go with you? Will you make him alive?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think it was me.”

“Okay. Just weaseling out of doing it for us, too.”

“I can’t. Don’t you get it? Something just happened. I was there. That’s it. I didn’t do shit.”

“Okay, okay.” Trevor got up. “I gotta get to class.”

I pushed last night out of my mind and focused on school. When it was over, I had to go home. I needed a real shower and a change of clothes. When I got home, Mom was asleep in the bedroom. I checked the fridge and cabinets for food. Not much there. She left her purse on the table. I rummaged through it. Damn. She had a hundred bucks.

Looks like I get to pick up food. I grabbed eighty and headed for Gristedes. Mr. Johnson, who lived at the end of the hall stopped me.

“Get me a newspaper and a pack of cigarettes. Okay? Keep the change.”

He gave me seventeen bucks. I’d score an easy five. “Sure. Thanks.”

He nodded and closed his door.  Food money. Five bucks. Balto defending me. Maybe my luck has changed?

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK CONTINUES...

Welcome! This is picture prompt week. We are relegated to only using 300 words to tell our stories this week. It will be a challenge. Above is the picture I chose. My urban fantasy, "Midnight in Central Park" continues this week. I hope you're enjoying the story. Please feel free to leave a comment. I love feedback. Thanks for stopping by. 

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   The metal of Balto's snout was cold under my hand. Although he'd been alive, sort of, a few minutes ago, now he stood still and stiff, as usual. Did I dream that he came to life? I couldn't stop staring at the statue. Had it been real? Did he chase away the muggers? I rubbed my eyes. Maybe it had been a dream.

   Light grabbed my attention. I looked up. The dark clouds melted away. The sky opened and a shaft of light shone down on the dog and me. I yawned. My legs felt heavy, my feet like they were lead. Time for sleep. I dragged myself back to the turtle pond, a safe place to spend the night. 

   As I rounded the far end, I averted my eyes from the statue of King Jagiello, liberator or Poland. The writing on the base said he was a good guy, but one look at his weapons and his face and I didn’t believe it.

   With two swords raised above his head he looked ready to charge. Damn, even his horse had an angry face.

As the light from the streetlamps created shadows around him, I swallowed hard and walked faster. If Balto could come alive, what about this guy? Could he leap off the pedestal and charge me? Run me through with his swords? I wasn’t taking any chances. I ran, leaving the scary guy behind.

   On the grass, rocks sticking up out of the ground provided good cover. I spread my sleeping bag and scooted up against the hard surface, hoping I'd disappear in the shadows.

   “Everything’ll look better in the morning,” my mother would say. Yeah, sure. Growling metal dogs and thunder storms with no rain wouldn’t be any different when the sun came up. Trust me.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "GRASSY" - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "grassy." We have more of my urban fantasty, "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by. 

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The guys raced after me. My feet left the grassy area and took me in the direction of Balto. I thought I could hide in the tunnel. I heard a low rumble. Glancing up, I noticed clouds gathering, covering the moon. Shit! Rain? But I didn’t have time to bitch about it as they were still after me.

When I saw the tunnel, I sped up. I plastered myself against the wall where darkness covered me. The rumbling in the sky got louder. A flash of lightning drew my eye.

The bad guys didn’t stop. They headed straight for me. With nowhere to hide, I sprinted to Balto. They caught up. I stood in front of the statue, hoping the dog would give me courage.

“Okay. Put down the sleeping bag.”

I shook my head.

“I said. Put down the sleeping bag.’

A loud crack of thunder made us jump. We looked up at the sky, no rain, only fast-moving clouds and a few flashes of lightning. The sky turned black. I stood my ground.

“If you want the bag, you’re gonna have to come and take it.” Hidden by my baggy pants, my knees shook. The bad guys advanced, slowly.

Then it happened. After another loud crack of thunder, I heard a growl –soft at first, but the closer they got, the louder the snarl. I glanced behind me. Sonofabitch! The statue of Balto was alive! Hell, yes. He moved up next to me and bared his teeth.

The two muggers froze. I swear the tall one’s hair stood up. My eyes grew wide as I stared at that dog. Light reflected on his metal body. I mean, he didn’t turn into a flesh-and-blood dog with fur and stuff. He was still a bronze thing, creature. But he moved. His legs, his head. His eyes glowed with a light from within. His lips curled back, and his teeth showed white.

Terrified and riveted at the same time, I couldn’t move. I simply stared. Balto took another step forward toward the guys. They let out a shriek, turned, and ran. They flew like the wind, as if the Devil was chasing them. Maybe he was.

I watched Balto walk back to his stand and resume his usual position. There was another low rumble of thunder before the clouds cleared off and the moon shone bright. Scared and curious at the same time, I approached the statue. Extending a shaking palm, I stroked Balto’s nose. It was stone cold metal. He didn’t move.

“Thanks, Boy,” I said.

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TUESDAY TALES - PROMPT RACE - MIDNIGHT IN CENTRAL PARK

Welcome! Today's word prompt is "race". We have anothere episode of "Midnight in Central Park." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by.

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At five thirty, Trevor and Abby got up to go home. I strolled over to the turtle pond to have dinner. There’s a bench by the water. I like to eat with the turtles and the birds. There are two cool birds there. I looked them up. They’re cormorants—I looked it up at school. They swoop over the water, looking for fish. Sometimes they dive-bomb. Sometimes they swim, then duck under the water. The fish don’t stand a chance.

I unwrapped the package from Mrs. Hernandez. Meat loaf. My favorite. I saved the water bottle  from Ramon, and headed over to the fountain by the Shakespeare Theater. I’ve never seen a play there, but I’d like to. Sitting outside and watching actors. Might like that.

It’s peaceful at the pond, when the people leave.  Mom had made it clear, this would be a good night to find someplace else to sleep. Fine. I’d rather camp out in the park than see the shit that goes on at home when she’s “working.” It makes me wanna throw up.

So I scouted out a place to sleep. The big tree by the pond that gave me enough cover at night came down in a storm last year. So that was out. Might sleep on the wooden dock that juts out over the pond. It’s plenty dark there at night. The wood is hard, but my sleeping bag gives some cushion.

I stretched out on a bench. There’d be plenty of light for a couple more hours, so I finished my homework. Right after sunset, I got up. The park closes officially at 1 a.m. for suckers. Not for me. But those last two or three hours are the most dangerous times. I like to keep moving until one.

I got up and headed for Bethesda Fountain. Late at night, you can wash your feet there, almost take a bath, if there are no people or cops around. The lake got dark when the sun went down. Shadows closed in giving bad people lots of places to hide.

I pulled my sleeping bag from under a bush and brushed it off.

“Well, well. Who’s this?”

I jumped, almost straight up. Two guys, both taller than me. Hell, that wasn’t hard. Even Abby was taller than me. They faced me, looking mean.

“What do you want?”

“What do you got?” the smaller one asked.

“Nothin. Nothin. If you’re lookin’ for a rich kid, it ain’t me.”

“We’ll be the judge of that.”

I edged backward, toward the Literary Walk of Fame. When my feet hit the mall, I turned and ran like Hell. They raced after me. 

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "CHEST" - URBAN FANTASY CONTINUES...

Welcome! This week's word prompt is "chest." We have another episode of "Midnight in Central Park" today. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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In Central Park, Ramon had set up his hot dog stand. Tourists and residents, tired of being apartment prisoners, had come to the park to breathe what we call “fresh” air. Too many people crowded the paths, dropping garbage, just plain taking up space. 

“How’s it goin’?” I asked.

“Bueno. Hambre?”

“Si,” I replied. I was always hungry.

He dug into a bag of rolls, then plucked a hot dog out of the steaming water with a long fork and shoved it in.

“Here,” he said, handing it and a bottle of water to me.

“Thanks.”

I dressed the thing with catsup and mustard and wolfed it down. Ramon had the best hot dogs. He didn’t mind exchanging one with me for toting his garbage.

“Esto,” he said, pointing to a closed black plastic bag. I nodded, chewed the last of the dog, wiped my mouth, and picked up the bag. I carted it over to the curb. When the guy with the truck came, they’d load that in, too. Park had rules and vendors couldn’t leave garbage. Ramon didn’t like to have it near the stand. He said it looked messy and dogs peed on it.

When I finished the task, I headed for Balto. I plopped down on the grass opposite the statue and took a swig of water. Taylor and Abby came out from the tunnel and joined me.

“You got that essay on Cather In the Rye?” Taylor asked.

I opened my backpack.  

“Yeah. The math?”

Taylor pulled a sheet out of his backpack.  

I did the English homework, Taylor did the math. We traded. Because we had different teachers, the plan worked. If my grades dropped, some nosy admin person from school might come sniffing around my place. A disaster in the making.  

“Here.” Abby pulled a small bag from her purse. 

Abby’s chocolate chip cookies were to die for. She wanted to be a professional baker. With her chest, she could be an amazing topless waitress. I never told her, cause she’d have smacked me good.

“Thanks. Your cookies? The best.” I opened the bag and offered one to Taylor. He shook his head.

“I had some yesterday.”

Taylor was Abby’s official boyfriend. He hung at her house a lot. But truth? She liked me better and I liked her. But a girlfriend was pretty much off limits since I never had any money. 

I counted six cookies in the bag. That meant two for now, two after dinner, and two for breakfast tomorrow. I planned ahead. 

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