Detached

In the early ’80s I began writing a story I called “Central Time.” Originally, it was written in the first person to recount a bizarre incident that I was part of in 1966, as I made my way to boot camp. After struggling with it for months I set it aside, into the box of […]

In the early ’80s I began writing a story I called “Central Time.” Originally, it was written in the first person to recount a bizarre incident that I was part of in 1966, as I made my way to boot camp. After struggling with it for months I set it aside, into the box of unfinished work and schemes it went.

When I picked it back up a few years later I decided to turn the story into fiction, tie in some other things that happened, make some stuff up and think of it as a story to be used for a short film. Then a second story began to emerge. Again, it was draped around a unusual occurrence in which I felt compelled to help a woman who was in danger.

So, the journey was underway. I had a character and a notion of writing several stories that probed the nature of heroism and hero-worshiping. Ten years ago, having written nine stories with Roscoe Swift as the protagonist, I thought I had finished the task. I was wrong.

The stories have been pared down. Several are still in the unfinished box. Only five stand as completed.

Here’s an excerpt of “Cross-eyed Mona,” which was the second story to have been written in this series. Like two of the others it is set in the Fan District.

“They were discussing the clues to the Paul-is-dead controversy, or scam,” said Sal. “Bake was stretched out on his back on the couch. His feet were on the coffee table, next to several beer cans, an ashtray, a bong, and a Coca-Cola bottle. Abruptly, the late Mr. Baker announced, ‘Watch this shot, boys. Swish!’”

Sal took up a matchbook and began acting out the part. “He pulled the last match out and whistled. Then he aimed it, man, squinting one eye. He tossed it at the bottle, and ladies and gents, the match went straight into the Coke bottle like a guided missile. Voila!”

“Voila?” Roscoe interrupted, “Did it swish?” “They were discussing the clues to the Paul-is-dead controversy, or scam,” said Sal. “Bake was stretched out on his back on the couch. His feet were on the coffee table, next to several beer cans, an ashtray, a bong, and a Coca-Cola bottle. Abruptly, the late Mr. Baker announced, ‘Watch this shot, boys. Swish!’”

Sal took up a matchbook and began acting out the part. “He pulled the last match out and whistled. Then he aimed it, man, squinting one eye. He tossed it at the bottle, and ladies and gents, the match went straight into the Coke bottle like a guided missile. Voila!”

Click here to go to “Detached” web site, where all five of the stories are. Feel free to make any comments that you wish. Feedback is good.

– Words and art by F.T. Rea

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