Smorgasbord

By Peter Moore

A retired Sergeant Major builds a cabin for his wife, missing and unwanted dogs become members of loving families, and a Big Brothers Big Sisters volunteer takes a dozen needy children on a fishing trip. Memories of attending family funerals, and the physical and financial pains involved in undergoing jaw surgery. A customer service manager jeopardizes his job and his life all because too many of his personal buttons are pushed. Two young lovers try to enjoy a weekend out of town but instead they are terrorized by an evil clown and his entourage. A married couple hosts a Halloween party where they try swinging for the first time; however their house gets burned to the ground instead. And last but not least, a demon support group assembles to discuss various human and nonhuman issues.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter Moore
• Release date: Feb 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301391073

Peter Moore

Peter Moore is an English writer, historian and lecturer. He is the author of Endeavour (2018) and The Weather Experiment (2015), which were both Sunday Times bestsellers in the United Kingdom. The Weather Experiment was also chosen as one of the New York Times 100 Notable Books of 2015. He teaches at the University of Oxford, has lectured internationally on eighteenth century history, and hosts a history podcast called Travels Through Time.

Book preview

SMORGASBORD

A Collection of Short Stories

By Peter Moore

Copyright 2013 Peter Moore

Smashwords Edition

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This book is dedicated to everyone

that ever inspired me to write these stories.

To my lovely wife, Catherine,

my friends and family,

and to life for giving me something to write about.

Table of Contents

HILLS & MOUNTAINS

FINDING JESSIE

FISHERMEN'S FRIEND

PUPPIES

THE BIG DANCE

WHAT IF UTAH HAD A TEAM IN THE NFL?

UNCLE GEORGE

BREAKING FACE

THE ROAD TO TORRINGTON

BIVOUAC

PUSHING BUTTONS

BLACK REEF CRESCENT MOON

MASQUERADE

COPING WITH HUMANS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

HILLS & MOUNTAINS

Hills are made of dirt, mountains are made of rock, Frank said with a grin.

Is that a fact? Winnie shook her head and squinted in mock amazement.

He shrugged; his palms outward. I don’t know, it sounds good on paper.

She squinted again. What the hell is he talking about? She had no idea but loved his sense of humor anyway.

Winnie had never been in a helicopter, especially a military aircraft like the one that stood silently in the middle of the giant, excessively green field.

Frank retired from the Special Forces just three months before as Sergeant Major of the Army. He used to be afraid of heights too but after a hundred and fifty jumps and flying map of the earth with a vomit bag strapped to his helmet, he only got nervous anymore.

The country side was beautiful; open fields, broad stretches of water and hills and mountains as far as the eyes could see.

It was Frank’s idea to take the helicopter ride; Winnie thought he was joking when he mentioned it the last time they drove back from a long weekend away from home.

Frank’s buddy, Jack had flown various aircraft for more than one branch of the military. Jack envied Sergeant Major Hill’s freedom but Jack still had a minimum of five years before he could start collecting his pension.

The Range-Rover was parked a hundred and fifty feet away, the engine still running. Winnie had a tight grip on the steering wheel; she couldn’t even stomach amusement park rides. Frank tried to get her attention as Jack summoned them from the helicopter, but she still wasn’t ready. She wanted to finish singing to her favorite song that was playing on the radio.

Jack could wait no longer, the propellers started up and the noise grew louder as they built up speed. The seventy mile an hour winds blew the grass flat and Winnie’s gray hair all over her face. Frank held onto her tightly, she would run if he let her go and she wasn’t going to get out of this one that easily.

Unlike hospital or television helicopters, the military ones have seats on the outside of the aircraft, making it definitely more like an amusement park ride. Jack strapped both of them in and then took his place in the driver’s seat.

Frank stared at his wife; she really had no desire to be flying around all willy-nilly like. When she finally looked at him, he gave her the thumbs up, just like he would have given the troops when he was playing the role of Jump-Master. The thumbs up seemed to bring peace to the inside of the aircraft and hopefully the outside too. ‘Six minutes! Inboard personnel stand up! Outboard personnel stand up!’ Frank replayed the experience in his mind. The light turned from red to green and the soldiers shuffled to the door.

Winnie hugged herself as the helicopter lifted into the air. At first her eyes were shut tight but once the aircraft leveled out, she opened them and gave her husband a confident thumbs up. He smiled; he’d told her that it was going to be awesome.

The helicopter weaved in and out of valleys, between hills and large, jagged rock formations. They flew over bodies of water, over highways and byways and straight towards the sunset. Frank wasn’t a religious man but this was indeed God’s country.

After thanking Jack for the ride, Frank and Winnie took a drive in the Range-Rover. Frank hummed a familiar song; over the years Winnie realized that this usually meant that something was on his mind or up his sleeve.

Thirty miles around the bends, Frank pulled onto a dirt road.

Where are we going? Winnie asked with a confused look on her face.

He smiled feverishly. You’ll see.

The cabin was the size of a house, fenced in mahogany and surrounded by a luscious green lawn. The view was spectacular; hills and open fields, the backyard a mountain range and a clear sky for day dreaming or stargazing.

This is beautiful, Winnie said. Is this Jack’s? Frank shook his head. Is it a timeshare?

Nope.

They entered the gate; the yard was furnished with chairs, tables and benches. Birdhouses hung on every corner of the cabin and baby trees were planted in the ground. Garden gnomes watched out over the property and hand painted sculptures made of cast-iron were welded together to form cartoon like characters.

So whose cabin is this? She asked.

Frank put his arms around her and tapped the wooden name plate; it read F & W Hill. Ours, he said and kissed her on the lips. I love you more than life itself, happy anniversary my dear.

FINDING JESSIE

It was a long, blistering July and it couldn’t be over soon enough. From the first day of the month to the thirty-first, fireworks shot off into the air. Sulfur replaced the scent of freshly cut grass and the afternoon barbecue. Getting to bed early was impossible and worse yet; people didn’t even know what they were celebrating.

Jessie nearly became the meat in a two car sandwich. Troy heard the explosion and then the screeching of tires. He looked up and there she was, running in the middle of the street, scared half to death. Before the cars started piling up, Troy took off in full sprint and rescued her from the oncoming traffic.

Troy wasn’t thinking when he invited Jessie into his home. His wife Shauna swore that she’d never have another one, yet for some reason she was smiling.

Jessie wasn’t her real name but no one came forward to remind her of who she really was. She didn’t have any identification, nor a purse or wallet but she was obviously accustomed to being