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Hang On
Hang On
Hang On
Ebook164 pages2 hours

Hang On

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

3.5/5

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About this ebook

Hang On

LanguageEnglish
PublisherPaul Sharp
Release dateNov 1, 2011
ISBN9781465745460
Hang On

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Reviews for Hang On

Rating: 3.4166666666666665 out of 5 stars
3.5/5

12 ratings6 reviews

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    *from member giveaway program*from the word hang on the story started..Nell Gavin beautifully depicts a normal persons life-well not normal in the sense that she's isolated from others..it would give you insights how other people's lives are, especially those whom you neglected..the story is ever-flowing, wonderful and well-written that will surely lure you to the depths of the heart and human society and that sometimes..mistakes are actually worth to know that you did your best..the characters are unique and realistic that would surely take a place in your heart...wonderful book!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    this is a librarything member givaway. I really loved reading this book. I loved reading Hollys thoughts and struggles. The hard childhood she had and the horrible grandmother made her who she was strong, independent, but unreachable. It was sad to read that she was used to betrayal and unfairly judged by men and women. Her adventures with touring with a rock band was intresting to read and the behavior of the roadies was funny. Her relationship with Trevor was "rocky" in her mind, but ever since the scene with John on the beach, I was convinced he was the one for her. I loved readying about her life and its ups and downs. In the end I would have liked a response from Trevor. All in all a great read...
  • Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
    1/5
    I had a very hard time getting into this book, mainly because of the author's writing style. Overall, I did not enjoy this book and would not recommend it to others.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Nell has created characters that are very real in their fears and hopes. The story is about Holly who is a young woman who is fighting to survive on her own. She has her own inner demons to fight with while facing the challenges of everyday life. She left a cruel grandmother and is now struggling to make ends meet. Until one day she meets Trevor a roadie with a famous band. Suddly Holly feels that she can have a real life and family and a home. But can she overcome her depression and her eccentricities to find Love?A story worth reading and holding on to..
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    I did not like this at all. It was dragging and pointless. This story is about Holly who is depressed but I did not feel like it at all. She's too critical of herself but not depress. I did not even like the love story. There's no climax to this book.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    After her mother commits suicide , Holly is sent to live w/ her abusive grandmother. Feeling rejected by everyone from a young age she struggles to feel normal and to have what she considers a normal life. When she meets a roadie names Trevor it is an instant connection but she knows there is no way that they could be togther because of her feelings of instability. Good story and well written reminiscent of Russel Crows Almost Famous and not a bad way to spend an afternoon in the sun.

Book preview

Hang On - Paul Sharp

Hang On

by

Paul Sharp

Phoenix, Arizona, USA

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Copyright© 2011 All rights reserved.

Written by Paul Sharp.

Cover art and publishing submission by Alan Schneider.

The novel Hang On comes from the writer’s imagination. All major and minor characters are purely fictional and are not intentionally based on any person living or dead.

Any written events of time’s past are fictional, and any connection to real events is simply coincidence.

Chapter One

The gray-headed man sighed and sat down on his lined jacket, folded to cushion his bottom from the smooth rock. He leaned back against the backpack removed from his shoulders and propped against a higher rock, before he had sat down. He looked out over the broad expanse of the large side canyon which eventually emptied into the Colorado River far below, at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. He had been poking around in some old ruins for the past three days, and was resting before he went up the steep part of the canyon to the rim, where his pickup truck was parked. He heard the shriek of an eagle carried on the soft breeze moving gently up from below. He enjoyed the solitude, not as much as the years his wife had been at his side, but over fifty years of marriage as man and wife, had ended one day.

He remembered as if yesterday, how she had gotten dressed in her pretty dress in anticipation of church services that Sunday, felt unwell, and had lain down upon the bed, never to open her eyes again. Specialists said apparently, her heart had just stopped beating. Even in his grief, he never forgot how she had not suffered a long prolonged illness as they had seen others their age do, but had simply went to sleep. About three months ago, he had finally shaken off his doldrums, started walking daily and had finally bought hiking and backpack gear, eventually ending up here at the Grand Canyon.

His enjoyment of the big outdoors was always tempered by the fact his wife wasn’t at his side to show her appreciation and sometimes amusement. Reminded him somewhat, of watching a movie by oneself, not being able to share a funny scene, or anticipate with another, the coming confrontation or joke punch line. He didn’t watch movies anymore, not even the old ones they both had enjoyed so much. He had come to a most obvious conclusion. The sharing with his wife was what he had missed the most.

Opening a zippered side pocket on his camouflage pants, he brought out small binoculars, checked the lens for dust, and began carefully scanning the right hand side of the canyon which plunged to the river. Taking a few minutes to complete his scanning over rugged cliffs, tumbled rocks, and vegetation, he relaxed back against his cushioned rock, and drawing out a small ringed paper pad and pencil, began sketching things which had caught his attention.

One of the cliffs was a contradiction in colors, blending several pastel colors into a picture rewarding the eyes. Chuckling to himself, he remembered he really could not identify many pastel colors, but the fact didn’t keep him from enjoying the colorful cliffs. Turning the page of the pad, he sketched a palo verde tree clinging resolutely to a precarious position among rocks which had slid down from above. A clump of prickly pear cactus with a packrat’s nest caught his attention and he spent a few minutes drawing a fact simile on the pad.

As he was finishing he saw a furtive movement at one edge of the clump of cactus, and recognized a pack rat carrying something into the cactus heap. Hearing a soaring bird cry, he looked up in time to see a condor leisurely sail overhead and down towards the river, far below. The soft breeze, the warming sun, contributed to his head being laid back against his backpack, and soon he was dozing.

The gray-headed man had no idea how long he napped, but came awake to hear loud voices coming from down the path to the river. There were two men, half carrying, half dragging a woman between them. The only voices he heard were male, and both men were getting more out of control by the moment. Since the gray-headed man was up and back from the path a ways, he had no thought of calling out to see if he could be of assistance, because the two men were oblivious to all else except their current situation. He did begin to hear their panting from exertion as they came into view, making hard work out of practically carrying the woman. Stopping out of sight but just to his left, he heard one of the men almost shout in disgust, I’m tired of this foolishness. Help me drag her away from the path, and out of sight of any hikers.

The relaxing hiker watched in amazement as the two men dragged the woman across the rocky ground, past his vantage point, and moving more to his right, laid the female down on the bare rock ground behind a huge concealing boulder. The hiker carefully drew his feet up out of possible sight and angled his body into the shadows of the surrounding rocks.

Silently reaching down into one of the side pockets on his pants, he carefully got out his digital camera, and took three shots of the scene below. Suddenly the other man said, Michael, we can’t just leave her here to die. She really needs a doctor.

The first man, obviously Michael, snarled, Jarrod, she’s no good to me anymore. She’s been on drugs and acid so long, its’ ruined her liver, fried her brain, and she has hepatitis, most likely.

Jarrod said desperately, But you are the one who got her on drugs. Sure, she was an alcoholic before you stepped in, but you have never helped her, just used her.

Michael laughed cruelly, Jarrod you’re getting sappy in your advanced years. Annie begged me to let her live with my group. She thinks love will solve everything. But you know, I have told her and showed her, she is really nothing to me.

Jarrod replied, Abusing another person is just not right, regardless of the situation or reasons. At least she didn’t go crazy like Liz did after to much acid.

Michael turned on Jarrod in cold fury. Keep your mouth shut about Liz. I don’t want to be reminded about that failure.

Jarrod shifted uneasily, and protested, Michael, you are the one who kept experimenting on Liz with drugs, acid, and even mind control. Just because you were not careful with all that stuff, is why she went berserk.

Michael stepped very close to Jarrod, and uncontrolled anger, almost irrational wrath, came to the front. Listen to me you stupid jerk. People I gather around me are for my benefit and mine alone. You do know you could be replaced in the blink of an eye, don’t you?

Jarrod stepped back, unwilling to continue the confrontation. He finally stated, You are one of the most selfish, miserable, arrogant piece of garbage still standing. I do realize we have known each other for most of our lives, but enough in enough. Stop trying to threaten me, or convince me you are infallible, because I know better.

Suddenly Michael laughed, and put his arm around the shoulder of Jarrod. He said, Jarrod, the reason I keep you around is because you can always accurately describe me in my worst mood. Let’s knock Annie in the head and get on up to the top, before the rest of our group comes by.

Jarrod said forcibly, You don’t need to hit Annie with a rock. That’s murder, and even you haven’t come to such a point yet. It’s true, having a lot of money like you do, can cover up a lot of things, but not murder. Let’s leave a little water in case she comes around.

Michael swore viciously, We are not leaving her with anything except the clothes she’s wearing. Most people believe she’s already dead and buried.

The gray-headed man watched intently as the two men searched the woman, taking everything, valuable or not. He took five more shots with the woman now the main focus. Michael stood after the search and suddenly kicked the prone figure hard in the side. The woman never reacted, just a thud from the boot, and an unconscious grunt from her mouth.

Jarrod hung his shaking head, turned and walked back to the hiking path leading from the Colorado River upward, to the isolated rim above. The man could hear Michael passionately trying to get Jarrod to hear his side of the events of the past, concerning the woman Annie. He remained motionless as their voices faded only to be heard again as they took a switchback above his place of rest. He could still hear the murmur of their voices, arguing vehemently. He was about to move when he heard rocks thrown from above come raining down on the woman’s body. He then clearly heard a voice screaming, Good riddance to you. You were great, but now you are just garbage.

One of the thrown rocks from above had hit the woman squarely on the rib cage, but still only a low moan escaped from the prostrate body. Listening carefully before he moved, because the breeze was blowing up the canyon, the gray-headed man took a water bottle from his surplus supply, and slid down from his perch.

He walked slowly to the body lying on the rocky ground, wondering what in the world he could do next. Pulling a clean handkerchief from his hip pocket, he carefully wet the cloth and began wiping the filthy face of the woman, who was much younger than he had first thought. As the young woman came up out of the depths of unconsciousness, she moaned, and tried to lick her dry lips. The gray-headed man dribbled a small amount of water between her lips and from the feel of her skin, knew she was severely dehydrated. She slid away for a minute or two, but then started coming to, again. When she opened her eyes, he couldn’t believe how red and angry the pupils looked. He gave her a sip of water but pulled the bottle back when she wanted to guzzle down the precious liquid.

After another minute, she took another sip of water without grabbing. He carefully tried again to wash all the dirt and ashes off her face, but quit when she moaned in pain. She was a frightful sight. Her long hair was badly tangled and matted, her face was bruised, not only by recent blows, but the unmistakable signs of past abuse. She had several scratches on her face, lacerations on her neck, face and both hands. Several of them were red and angry, probably infected. Hearing a slight noise from her, he bent down to catch what she was saying. Who are you?

He smiled, and said, A Good Samaritan. What is your name?

She struggled, but finally managed, Annie.

He continued smiling as he said, My name is John Bolder. I’m a hiker who decided you badly needed some help. I have plenty of extra water and a small amount of food, but you need far more. Only a good doctor can overcome all the things apparently wrong with you, but hang on. You are emancipated, dehydrated, have infected wounds, and probably a broken rib or two. What we need to decide, how am I going to get you up out of this large canyon to the top of the rim?

Chapter Two

John looked down at the sleeping, at least he thought she was, young woman, letting her body absorb the MRE he had given her, along with a steady supply of precious water, throughout the meal. He looked down at his arthritic hands, felt his sore back and hurting feet, and knew there was no way he could carry this young woman to the top of the canyon by himself.

He finished the meal she had been unable to force down, rationing his intake of water from his dwindling supply. He brought his backpack down and found as comfortable a place to rest as was available. When he awoke, he knew it was past midday because of the positioning of the sun. Annie was still sleeping or unconscious, he really couldn’t tell. He suddenly heard what turned out to be the murmuring of voices coming up the hiking trail.

He considered hailing the group, until he remembered overhearing Michael say the rest of his group would be along later in the day. Sitting quietly out of sight as they walked by, he counted eight persons on the trail, realizing he was hearing the sound of hooves on the rocks of the hiking path. He squirmed around until he could see the led burro as it carried a mound of luggage up the trail from the group’s camp.

Squinting towards

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