Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Slowly"

 

Welcome! This week's word prompt is "slowly." We have another excerpt from "Some Kind of Wonderful." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales and the excellent stories you'll find there. Thanks for stopping by! 

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Jeff took a detour to the hardware store where he bought a sledgehammer. His arm hung at his side with his fist closed around the handle.

“Hey, Jeff. Where you headed?” The familiar voice of his friend, Flint McKay drew his eye for a moment.

“Leave me alone.”

“Hi, Jeff. Going home?” The voice on the other side of him was Flint’s younger brother, Marty – a high school classmate of Jeff’s.

“None of your business.” Jeff increased his pace.

“Hmm, Marty. I think Jeff’s going to The Wonderful.” Flint kept pace with his friend.

“Think so? I agree. That where you’re going?” Marty flanked Jeff on the right.

“Get outta here! Both of you.” Jeff’s voice thundered off the brick bank building as they passed.

“Nope,” Flint replied.

“Don’t think so,” Marty said.

Before he knew it, a hand whipped out from the left and grabbed the sledgehammer. Flint yanked it out of Jeff’s hand. Stopping by the coffee shop, Java the Hut , Jeff lunged at Flint. Marty flew into action. What started as an obvious intervention morphed into a free-for-all brawl spilling over into the street. Marty and Flint took turns trying to contain Jeff, who yanked, pulled, and tugged his way free time-after-time.

Marty pushed him down on the concrete, belly first. Flint sat on him. Marty joined his brother.

“You’re not going to tear the place down.” Flint fisted the back of the collar of Jeff’s shirt.

“Why not? It’s mine, isn’t it?”  

“Is it?” Slowly, Flint brushed off his pants but didn’t get up.

“Have they read the will yet?” Marty piped up.

“Tomorrow. But Ma said he left it to me.”

“Seems to me he’d leave it to your mother so she could sell it and use the money for retirement.” Flint rubbed the dirt off his palms.

“I’m telling you, he left it to me.”

“And what are you gonna do with it?” Marty wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

“Tear the fuckin’ thing down!”

“You can’t.” Marty got up.

“What do you mean, I can’t? I own it. Or I will.”

“Jess Lennox. She said it’s landmarked.” Flint rose and offered his hand to Jeff.

Jeff rolled sideways, took the help, and pushed to his feet. “She can’t do that.”

“Yes, she can. She’s the landmark committee,” Marty said.

“Isn’t there a plaque or something on the side?” Flint picked up the sledgehammer.

“Yeah. It was built in 1918 or something.” Jeff brushed off his pants.

“There you go,” Marty said. “It’s over a hundred years old. Can’t tear it down.”

 

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