Secret Ingredient

It happened so fast that when it was over they were both shocked. The body laid on the carpet in the middle of the living room. Phil started to freak out repeating over and over again,
"Oh no!"
Thomas had to slap him several times to calm him down.
" Look, this is bad and we have to remain calm to decide what we need to do!" Thomas said
" I can not go to jail, I will not do well in jail!" Phil shrieked
" Don't worry I know someone who knows someone who can help us out." Thomas said
Thomas went to the phone dialed and waited. Phil watched in both anguish and hope. After Thomas hung up the phone he said,
" Don't worry it will all go away."

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Thomas answered and standing on the door step were five of the youngest, clean cut, decent looking boy scouts you had ever seen. Thomas said,
" Thank you so much for coming it is great to meet you guys, I am Thomas and this is Phil."
The oldest of the scouts stepped forward and said,
" We have never met and we were not here, now sit quietly on the sofa while we clean up this mess." the scout then began to shout out orders to his patrol, " Lay out the tarp, get the rope, make sure the knots are secure, ready the bleach."
In twenty minutes the scouts had securely wrapped the body and cleaned up any traces of blood, they hoisted the body up and prepared to leave. The Patrol leader looked at Thomas and Phil and repeated his warning,
" We have never met and we were never here!"
As the scouts carried the body out of the apartment Thomas and Phil could faintly hear them singing:
Softly falls the light of day as our campfire fades away,
Silently each scout must ask, have I done my daily task,
Have I kept my honor bright, can I guiltless sleep this night,
Have I done and have I dared everything to be prepared.
Phil and Thomas never saw those scouts again and to this day 10 years later that body has never been found. Thomas sometimes wonders how they made it disappear.

A group of scouts sits around a campfire with their Scout master, the Scout master is finishing his second bowl of Chili, he turns to the Patrol Leader and says,
" Kenny I don't know how you do it, but this chili is amazing, won't you give me the recipe?"

The Alchemy of Love

She dreamt about him every night, the boy in that uniform. When he told her he was leaving he was so exited and proud that she did not say a thing about her fears. She had loved forever. They had played together in the courtyard when they were small and now he was far away in a foreign land, fighting for their country. She was proud as could be that her man was a dough boy fighting for what was right, but when she was alone in the room she had shared with her sister, before she married and moved across the city, she would weep into her pillow muffling the sobs so her parents could not hear her. Every night the dream was the same. Him and her playing the courtyard side by side, her with her dolls and him with his toy soldiers. It was summer and she wore a yellow sun dress with a green ribbon in her hair. She had worn the ribbon for him. At eight she already knew he was for her and everyday when she picked a ribbon for her hair she would think about him and weather he would like the color. So on the day she went to meet him upon his return from the war she wore a bright pink ribbon knowing that it was his favorite and she knew that he would have smiled, so when they lowered his flag draped casket off the ship she did not cry, but wore a bright smile to go with the pink ribbon.

The Fridge was Full

The fridge was full. He tried to put one can of beer in but there just wasn't room. He yelled for his wife. She walked into the kitchen and asked what he wanted. He just opened the fridge door. She had the gall to ask “What?" He just raised his eye brow. She raised her eye brow back at him, he sneered and she laughed. “Ok. Ok!" she said “Maybe the fridge is not the best place to keep them but come on my closet is full and you won't give me any space in yours." He had to laugh at this and said “Maybe you should stop buying so many shoes!" But he knew it was futile and that was one of the reasons he loved her. He was just going to have to accept there were going to be shoes every where even in the fridge.

The Cheese Stands alone

For years and years and years now people have been searching for the answer to that one burning question. Am I real? Do I exist? The answer is yes. I am real, I exist. I live up here in Alaska where no one will ever find me. It is a pretty good existence. The wife and I have recently redecorated the rec. room. She made these really lovely flowered curtains. The kids are all doing well. They have lots of friends at school and Thomas even has a part in the school musical. He is not the greatest singer but he does a good job. We are canning vegetables for the long winter ahead and we have recently been able to pick up The Disney Channel on the satellite dish. The kids have been enjoying High School Musical. All in all things have been good. We caught the news of those yahoos in Georgia. It just really burns my butt that these crazies continue to make up these hoaxes. I tell you if I thought for a minute you humans would not kill me, my family and our community and experiment on our cold dead bodies, I would come forward and end these hoaxes and all the myths. But since I am pretty sure you would kill us, I think I will just ignore this latest news and keep my head down and enjoy our little families quite life.

A Mother’s Love

I carry the baggage of her life around with me everywhere I go. It is a heavy burden and although I have often dreamed of setting it down and walking away, I do not, I persevere. She loved me I know but that love is the heaviest piece of luggage that I carry. It drags me down so far that I no longer go in large bodies of water for fear it will drag me down to the bottom and I will drown with her love. I often wonder what will happen with all of her bags when I die. I look at the beautiful face of my daughter and I pray that she has the strength that I do not and throws these bags on the trash heap of the past where they belong.

The Villain of the Story

He always told me that he would be famous one day. I am not sure I really believed him. But he was right. He is famous. His memoir has been the number one best seller on the New York Times list for over two years now. He can be seen on all the talk shows, in all the tabloids and at all the best parties. They have begun to film the story of his life. When I left him all those years ago I never expected to become the villain of his story. I never thought my name would become a synonym for evil. I heard a couple of young women on the train the other day refer to one of their acquaintances as an " Alice Winters". It was not a compliment. I knew when I left him that I had hurt him. I never expected the venom that spilled from his pen. When I heard of his success I was happy for him, then I read the memoir. I remember our story differently. If I had not lived this story with him, I too would hate Alice Winters. The character he draws is terrible. I try to see it from his point of view, but I can not. I may be the villain of his story, but I am the heroine of mine.

This Place

She knew that it was no use, no use at all. She was never going to escape the confines of this godforsaken place and she felt her soul tremble. She had been born and raised here in this place where children aged quicker then mold grew on stale bread and her daughter was destined to live out her days in the same manner. When she had discovered she was pregnant, she dreamed of a wonderful life filled with everything someone who has nothing dreams of for their children, but those dreams were crushed under the weight that was this place with its dirt and grime and sad stories that never seemed to change. She looked down at the small bundle wrapped in pretty pink and smiled. She regretted everything and nothing.

It was Late

It was late and I was tired so I believe that is why I failed to notice him as I left the building. I should have been more aware but I had, in recent months become lazy about my security. Leaving the office late, staying out with friends late, not being as aware as I should be. He grabbed me from behind and I barely had time to react before he shoved the knife to my throat. Fortunately my reflexes were still good or he may have killed me, but I pivoted on my heels and before he knew what had happened I had broken his arm and knocked him to the ground. He screeched like a wounded dog as I dug the heel of my boot into his groin. He answered every question I posed. I left him alive, barely, in the ally behind the library. I went home packed my few belongings and got in my car and drove. No more late nights, no more friends, the bastards were not going to find me again.

A Dignified Exit( The Foulest Job She Ever Had)

The shorts she wore were short, very short but at this point she did not care if everything was hanging out because all she wanted was to get out of this place with as much dignity as she could muster. Which wasn't much when your ass was encased in very tight orange nylon shorts. She took the tip off the table of the loudmouths and turned to make her exit when one of the loudmouths grabbed her. She broke, tears started to flow as she turned on the guy and began to pummel him with her fists. With tears and snot streaming down her face she was escorted to the entrance of the restaurant. So much for dignity.

Fire Down Below

The fire had burned for forty years now. Under the ground like an angry god. When it snowed it would melt within seconds of hitting the hot ground. She had lived in the town all of her life. She had married here, had her children here and buried them all here. When they came to move her she refused. The town was toxic they said, but she did not care. Every thing she loved was here in this fire drenched town. It took many years to move everyone out and when just a few were left they sent in the mean ones. The ones who would force the last ones out. When the man came to her door ready to force her to move she felt no remorse when she bashed in his head with her frying pan. She knew she was headed for hell, but no one was going to make her leave the only home she had ever known. She figured what the heck she had lived in this burning, godforsaken town, forgotten by the world for more then 40 years and she guessed that the real version of hell could not be much hotter, so she buried the man in her garden and waited to die, grateful for just a few more days at home.

The Streets of Laredo

He stood at the end of the street waiting for the clock to strike noon. He flexed his fingers and prepared to draw his gun. This was not the first fight he had been in, for in fact he had developed a reputation as a fast shot. He squinted against the sun and eyed the aging gunslinger at the other end of the street. The old gunslinger looked like he had lived for a hundred years, he was sure the old man's reflexes were slow and he felt bad that he was going to kill him. As the clock struck noon both gunfighters reached for their guns and as the smoke cleared the aging gunslinger turned and walked back towards his hotel, he would have no solace tonight.

Rosemary

They had named her Rosemary for her great grandmother. She had wanted to be called Caitlin or Brittney or Ashley. Rosemary was old fashioned and she was definitely getting tired of the Simon and Garfunkel song. So the summer she turned seventeen she decided that she would be called Madison. Her parents refused but her friends at school went along and from then on she was called Madison. When she went to college no one ever knew her real name except for the registrar and when she applied for her first job Madison was the name on her resume. She even sometimes forgot that her real name was Rosemary because after all these years her parents had finally relented and also called her Madison. So on that day on the subway when the handsome man smiled and said " Hey don't I know you? Didn't we go to elementary school together? Is your name Rosemary?" she was slow in answering so her friend said, " Her name is Madison." The man looked crestfallen, " Oh that is too bad. You do look an awful lot like Rosemary. She was such a funny, beautiful girl. I had a huge crush on her when I was in the fifth grade, but then we moved away and I never saw her again, but I always hoped I would. Rosemary, what a spicy, lovely name. Sorry for the mistake." he said as he stepped off the train.

The messenger

He came for me that night. I knew it was my time, but I was still not prepared for his arrival. The message was clear. I packed my baggage and followed him out the door. He smiled a sad smile and I took one last look at the house I had lived in for the last forty years. It was lovely with the rising sun glinting off its windows. I had been happy there and had lived a good life. I turned back to death nodded my head and reached for the hand he held out to me.

The Opal Ring

Her Mother wore it on special occasions. It burned as if lite from a fire with in. Under the candle light it sparkled so brightly that she would have to shield her eyes as she peeked around the corner into the dining room, on those nights her parents had one of their dinner parties. She wanted that ring so badly. When her parents were away she would sneak into their room and open the jewelry box on the dresser and try it on. She imagined herself older, dressed in a gown wearing that ring.

She sold it to the pawn shop when she was so desperate that it was either the ring or herself. When she went back for it years later it was gone. The pawnshop had no record of who had purchased it so there was no tracking it down. Every where she went after that she would look for the ring, every hand she shook, every glass of wine she passed to another, every sparkle that gleamed on another’s hand, she would look. Over the years she saw some very beautiful rings, but none that would ever compare to that opal ring of her mother’s.

A Bump in the Night

When the war started I did not join. I wanted no part of it. I keep myself hidden and off the radar, staying in the shadows of the night, but unfortunately all of that ended last night when I heard a loud thump above me in the house. Someone had come into my domain. I did not like this war that was going on and I wanted not part of it but I drew the line at my house and sanctuary being invaded. I grabbed the gun I always had at the ready and crept up the stairs to the floor above slowly. At the end of the hallway I could see a small sliver of light under the door at the end. That is where they were. I crept silently down the hall to the door and slowly creaked it open with my gun ready to fire and what the heck do you think I saw. Two small adorable children sitting on the floor eating chocolate. They looked at me with their big eyes and held out the candy bar. I put down the gun and joined them on the floor. On this one night perhaps the war could be put to rest at least for a while. I took the chocolate and had a taste. It was so good. I had not had chocolate for years. We sat silently in that circle. The humans and the zombie enjoying a small respite from the blood and gore that had torn the world apart. The children rose their feet gave me a small salute and left through the window. I smiled to myself, because I knew that if I ever meet those two out in the street one of us would die.

The invitation

The invitation came two weeks before the end of the world. She held it in her hands and wept. Wept for everything that was and everything that could have been. She sent her regrets and waited. Waited for the explosion that would be the end of the world. Her mother called and begged her to reconsider. Her sister called, her aunt called. They had all accepted the invitation, but she refused to change her mind. She refused to go. This is where she belonged. So on that day two weeks later when the giant comet hit the earth and blew it into a million little pieces she was still there, sitting in her apartment as the world exploded. If she had accepted that invitation she would have been floating with the rest of her family on a giant spaceship shaped like a hot dog watching from a porthole as the world died.

Fairy Tale Hair

It hung down her back in lovely curls. It was her crowning glory. She often felt like a story book princess with that hair. But on this particular day as she and her family were herded into the camp and segregated by sex she did not feel anywhere close to a princess. As the camp guard shaved off the beautiful hair she refused to cry. Over the next few years she would rub her shorn scalp and smile. The hair was gone but she had survived.

The Monarch

She put her glasses on adjusted her suit and walked into the office building. To a casual observer she looked like every other young woman who was entering the busy office building on this Tuesday morning. In her dark suit and glasses she looked like your typical young executive who was climbing the ladder to the top hoping not to hit the glass ceiling. But if you were more then a casual observer, perhaps someone who also knew how to conceal your real identity, you might observe that the color of her hair was just a tad off, or that the glasses she wore were simple glass, or that the suit she wore covered the body of a skilled warrior. But these things were only apparent to another who worked in her same field and had employed similar tactics to conceal his identity. He got up from where he was sitting and adjusting his own suit and walked toward the building. Riding up in the elevator with his weapon concealed beneath the newspaper he held he regretted that it had been so easy to find out her every day identity. He had hoped that it would be harder to find her and still harder to kill her but it looked like this was going to be the easiest job he had ever had. He was very disappointed. He got off the elevator and headed toward the end of the hall where he knew her office was located. He smiled to himself as he looked around the luxurious office building. He could not believe that someone so skilled and adept would hide her secret identity behind the image of a frumpy accountant. What another disappointment. He expected something sexy not an accountant. He slowed as he got closer to her door. There was a sliver of a window running down the side of the door. He peered in and saw her sitting at her desk tapping away at the key board of her computer. This was too easy he thought as he twisted the knob of the office door and burst into the room. He barely felt the slight jolt as the bullet pierced his chest and blood bloomed on the front of his white shirt. She stood over him as he slide to the ground. “ Did you really think it would be that easy” she asked. “ I am really disappointed.” She said. “I was really looking forward to a challenge, and I am a little angry that I am now going to have to find a new identity to conceal my secret one, I really liked being an Accountant!” She went to her desk picked up her bag and walked back toward him. He felt hot and weak at the same time and he knew he would soon be dead. She kneeled down beside him and placed a monarch butterfly on his chest. Then she stepped over him and as she walked down the hallway he could hear the clicking of her heels on the hard wood floor, it was the last sound he would ever hear. When the police arrived to find his prone body the lead detective muttered, “I wonder what this guy did to piss off the Monarch?”

They Travel Together

She met him in a bar in Kansas City. He needed a ride and she could use the company. So they travelled through Kansas and Colorado and on into Utah together. It was a silent trip and she liked that. They conversed only when necessary about gas, restrooms and food.They stopped at a gas station just outside Bluff, Utah. She waited for an hour but he never came back to the car. He was gone. He had left just as quietly as he had entered. As the years rolled by she would sometimes wonder about that fellow traveler, who was he, where did he go, that sort of thing. When she died at 85 after a long and happy life in California where she had escaped to, an old man showed up at her funeral that no one knew. He walked up to the casket, knelled, spoke a few words to the deceased and then left. After he left if you had been a keen observer you may have noticed the small photo, that the man had carried for 60 years, tucked into the folds of the caskets satin lining. It was a photo of a beautiful young woman and written on the back were instructions from the man's boss, " Kill this Bitch, no one leaves me before I am done with them."

The Book

I read it for the first time when I was 12. It changed everything. It opened my eyes and made me realize that the world was not the place I had thought. She kept it hidden in a secret comparmtent in the bottom drawrer of her dresser. When I found it, I knew that I should not read it, but I could not resist. It shattered me into a million pieces. Over the years I would sneak it out and read it over and over. I am sure she never knew for if she had she would have seen that I looked at her differently. She would have seen it in my eyes. She would have seen that I no longer looked at her as just "Mom". On that day when I was 12 and read all her secrets, she became more to me, she became flesh and blood, an actual woman. It changed everything.