Tags:
Fiction,
Literary,
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Short Stories (Single Author),
Florida,
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barry gifford,
the roy stories,
sad stories of the death of kings,
the vast difference,
memories from a sinking ship
went into the back to make a phone call. They got along just fine and about once an hour Albert would ask if I wanted something, like a Barqâs or a Delaware Punch, and Dad would rub my shoulder and say to Albert, âHeâs a real piece of meat, this boy.â Then Albert would grin so that his mustache covered the front of his nose and say, âHe is, Rudy. You wonât want to worry about him.â
When Dad and I were in New York one night I heard him talking in a loud voice to Dummy Fish in the lobby of the Waldorf. I was sitting in a big leather chair between a sand-filled ashtray and a potted palm and Dad came over and told me that Dummy would take me upstairs to our room. I should go to sleep, he said, heâd be back late. In the elevator I looked at Dummy and saw that he was sweating. It was December but water ran down from his temples to his chin. âDoes my dad have a job?â I asked Dummy. âSure he does,â he said. âOf course. Your dad has to work, just like everybody else.â âWhat is it?â I asked. Dummy wiped the sweat from his face with a white-and-blue checkered handkerchief. âHe talks to people,â Dummy told me. âYour dad is a great talker.â
Dad and Albert talked right past lunchtime and I must have fallen asleep on the bar because when I woke up it was dark out and I was in the backseat of the car. We were driving across the Huey P. Long Bridge and a freight train was running along the tracks over our heads. âHow about some Italian oysters, son?â my dad asked. âWeâll stop up here in Houma and get some cold beer and dinner.â We were cruising in the passing lane in the powder blue Caddy over the big brown river. Through the bridge railings I watched the barge lights twinkle as they inched ahead through the water.
âAlbertâs a businessman, the best kind.â Dad lit a fresh Lucky from an old one and threw the butt out the window. âHeâs a good man to know, remember that.â
Â
The Forgotten
I t was snowing again and Roy couldnât wait to get out in it. Standing in line with the other second graders, all of them with their coats, mufflers, hats and gloves on, he was impatient to be released for morning recess. Roy had just told Eddie Gray that if the snow was deep enough they should choose up sides for a game of Plunge, when the teacher, Mrs. Bluth, called out to him.
âRoy! You know that you are not supposed to talk while I am giving instructions. You remain here while I take the rest of the class down to the playground.â
Roy stood still while everyone else filed out of the classroom. As soon as he was sure that they were on their way down the west staircase, Roy walked out of the room and headed in the opposite direction. Nobody was in the hallway. Roy walked down the east staircase to the ground floor and through the exit to the street. Snow was coming down hard and Roy put up the hood of his dark blue parka as he headed north on Fairfield Avenue. He could hear the kids yelling in the playground on the other side of the school.
At the corner of Rosemont and Washtenaw, near St. Timâs, Roy passed an old man wearing a brown trenchcoat and a black hat who was holding a handdrawn sign that said, âI am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. JOB, 30:28.â
âHow old are you?â the man asked Roy.
âSeven,â Roy answered, and kept walking.
âRead the Bible!â the man shouted. âDonât forget, like I did!â
When Roy entered the house, his mother was seated in front of the television set in the living room, drinking coffee.
âIs that you, Roy?â she asked. âI thought you were at school. Itâs only a little after ten.â
âThey let us out early today,â he said. Roy went over to where she was sitting. âWhatâs on?â
â The Lady from Shanghai . Itâs a good one. Rita
K. Sterling
Jacquie Rogers
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley
Shiloh Walker
Elizabeth Moynihan
Mary Balogh
Tara Fox Hall
Jonathan Maberry
Jane Hunt
James Kakalios