Read Online Encounters by Stewart Felkel - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stewart Felkel
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caught unawares. Still, what's in a name? He followed the man out of the corner of his eye as he slunk closer to him on the porch of his house. Even though it might be built on the back of a trailer, only measure 20' by 8', and was pulled by his truck from site to site it was his house. He had been inspired by that company out in California who built those prefab houses out of bamboo. People often thought he was crazy, but he preferred the term eccentric.
He reached the bottom of his bottle of wine, it was a small bottle after all, and went inside for some more. He walked through the Spartan living room with its solitary chair and small bookshelf. The curtains were drawn keeping in the light and keeping out any prying eyes. The entrance to the kitchen was beside the ladder to the loft bedroom. His was a home that was not designed to entertain guests. That was fine with him however. He preferred his solitude. He reached into his small dorm room style fridge and got out another one of the four-pack that he had picked up on his weekly grocery run.
He had been at this park for two weeks now as part of his ambling cross country trek and thought he might stay a week more. It didn’t matter; he had nowhere to be and forever to get there. He had watched the park slowly empty as news of the killer spread and was one of the few brave souls still there. The lack of neighbors didn’t bother him. He trekked the short distance back to his porch, it was a porch dammit, to watch the stars continue coming out. He grabbed a light sweater by the door as he walked out. Looking up at the sky his breath made a fog as it escaped. He knew he wasn't alone, but pretended nonetheless.
"Excuse me, do you have a light", he heard?
Looking down he saw the man standing at the bottom of the short steps to his porch. He wore glasses, was balding, and a little bit dumpy. There wasn’t anything about him that was particularly intimidating.
He slipped a hand in his pocket and pulled it out with a half full Bic lighter. The man lit his cigarette and handed the lighter back. He leaned against the porch and inhaled deeply.
"Nice night isn't it? It's cold, but the stars look great from out here."
"That they do" he responded and then fell silent again. They stood there a few more minutes while cigarette man puffed away. He took quick drags off of the cigarette like he was trying to finish it in record time. After a few minutes the pudgy little man began shifting from foot to foot. His gaze kept darting around nervously.
"So, have you been keeping up with the news about the Rest Stop Butcher" Cigarette Man asked without anymore preamble? “You know the one who stabbed all those people to death."
"I've heard of him. Heard he kills at more than just rest stops these days. They think he's hunting the RV parks now."
"If that's true aren't you scared staying here, especially with so few people around?"
"Nah, I'm not scared. Men who have to hurt and kill women to feel tough aren’t men at all."
At this the pudgy man grew red in the face and started puffing air like a fish out of water. His cigarette fell from his hands when they started shaking. Then he straightened up and grew tense.
"You should be scared, you should be very scared”, he said through gritted teeth.
He knew it was coming, but had hoped he was mistaken or that Cigarette Man would move on looking for other prey. There was the click and then a glint of moonlight. Cigarette Man lunged at him with the knife. His face was twisted in a snarl, but he made the mistake of trying to stab upwards at his target. When his intended victim easily sidestepped he lost his balance which is when the drifter delivered a kick to his face that made his nose run red and broke his glasses. He dropped the knife and covered his face in shock. The drifter leapt off the porch and, almost casually, slid around behind him and locked in a choke hold.
The erstwhile killer in his arms began to thrash, but his struggles
He reached the bottom of his bottle of wine, it was a small bottle after all, and went inside for some more. He walked through the Spartan living room with its solitary chair and small bookshelf. The curtains were drawn keeping in the light and keeping out any prying eyes. The entrance to the kitchen was beside the ladder to the loft bedroom. His was a home that was not designed to entertain guests. That was fine with him however. He preferred his solitude. He reached into his small dorm room style fridge and got out another one of the four-pack that he had picked up on his weekly grocery run.
He had been at this park for two weeks now as part of his ambling cross country trek and thought he might stay a week more. It didn’t matter; he had nowhere to be and forever to get there. He had watched the park slowly empty as news of the killer spread and was one of the few brave souls still there. The lack of neighbors didn’t bother him. He trekked the short distance back to his porch, it was a porch dammit, to watch the stars continue coming out. He grabbed a light sweater by the door as he walked out. Looking up at the sky his breath made a fog as it escaped. He knew he wasn't alone, but pretended nonetheless.
"Excuse me, do you have a light", he heard?
Looking down he saw the man standing at the bottom of the short steps to his porch. He wore glasses, was balding, and a little bit dumpy. There wasn’t anything about him that was particularly intimidating.
He slipped a hand in his pocket and pulled it out with a half full Bic lighter. The man lit his cigarette and handed the lighter back. He leaned against the porch and inhaled deeply.
"Nice night isn't it? It's cold, but the stars look great from out here."
"That they do" he responded and then fell silent again. They stood there a few more minutes while cigarette man puffed away. He took quick drags off of the cigarette like he was trying to finish it in record time. After a few minutes the pudgy little man began shifting from foot to foot. His gaze kept darting around nervously.
"So, have you been keeping up with the news about the Rest Stop Butcher" Cigarette Man asked without anymore preamble? “You know the one who stabbed all those people to death."
"I've heard of him. Heard he kills at more than just rest stops these days. They think he's hunting the RV parks now."
"If that's true aren't you scared staying here, especially with so few people around?"
"Nah, I'm not scared. Men who have to hurt and kill women to feel tough aren’t men at all."
At this the pudgy man grew red in the face and started puffing air like a fish out of water. His cigarette fell from his hands when they started shaking. Then he straightened up and grew tense.
"You should be scared, you should be very scared”, he said through gritted teeth.
He knew it was coming, but had hoped he was mistaken or that Cigarette Man would move on looking for other prey. There was the click and then a glint of moonlight. Cigarette Man lunged at him with the knife. His face was twisted in a snarl, but he made the mistake of trying to stab upwards at his target. When his intended victim easily sidestepped he lost his balance which is when the drifter delivered a kick to his face that made his nose run red and broke his glasses. He dropped the knife and covered his face in shock. The drifter leapt off the porch and, almost casually, slid around behind him and locked in a choke hold.
The erstwhile killer in his arms began to thrash, but his struggles
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