Forks in the Road

By Shaun Finnie

Sometimes the road less traveled leads to the greatest delights.
Many stories go exactly as you'd expect them to. But others take an unusual twist, an unexpected fork in the road. These eighteen little tales are guaranteed to surprise you as they head in unforeseen directions.

Branch off the main route. Take one of the smaller Forks in the Road.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shaun Finnie
• Release date: Feb 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301838707

Shaun Finnie

Shaun Finnie lives in the North of England. When not writing short stories or working on his perpetually 'soon-to-be-finished' debut novel he likes travelling, other people's cats and the Disney theme parks.

Book preview

Forks in the Road

Shaun Finnie

The rights of Shaun Finnie to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents act, 1988.

Copyright 2013 Shaun Finnie

Smashwords edition first published February 2013.

Find other titles by Shaun Finnie at www.smashwords.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For more info, a weekly blog and a free short story every month, visit www.shaunfinnie.com

Table of Contents

In the Blink of an Eye

A Sticker Situation

Mission Accomplished

Runaway: Train

Such a Helpful Boy

Neighbours from Hell

Emma's Angel

Out of Hand

The Geese of Dearnacre

A Growing Problem

The Clean-Up Man

Stranger Danger

Hands in Gloves

Bone Idol

Hidden Treasure

You Don't Understand

For Better or For Worse

Shrunken Head

In the Blink of an Eye

‘It’s true ma’am, Martians walk among us.’

Mr Hudson’s tales had got taller all the way through the journey but this one took the cake.

‘You’ll never see their eyes though. I hear that they can replicate human bodies right down to the tiniest mark on our fingernails but somehow they just can’t get the eyes right.’

With that he raised his sunglasses to reveal his huge white eyes, bulging way out of their sockets. Mom raised a hand to her mouth and I felt her jump just a little before she realised the truth and threw her head back in a huge laugh. Pop was laughing fit to burst too and things got even more ridiculous when one of Mr Hudson’s ‘eyes’ fell out and rattled around the floor of the carriage.

I think that Pop had realised that something was going on because of the length of time Mr Hudson had spent in the bathroom just before he started telling us this particular story. And looking back I guess that none of us noticed how he kept pushing his sunglasses up his nose as he spoke. Presumably they had been helping to keep the ping-pong ball halves in place. But Mom and me had been completely taken in by his tale, which made the silly way his face looked with those big old eyes stuck onto it all the funnier.

It was a great joke but none of us had the energy to keep laughing for too long. How could a train be so hot? Even Pop’s Oldsmobile has an air conditioner these days. I know that we were still trying to be frugal (one of my school’s words of the day last term) since the war but couldn’t they at least have put a ceiling fan in the carriage or something?

Mom had unbuttoned the collar of her blouse a little and was flapping away with that little folding fan of hers like she was surrounded by a hundred horseflies. I just kept refilling my lemonade, at least that was cool. Pop of course wouldn’t even so much as undo his top button. His shirt had been resolutely (another word of the day) fastened tight shut all the way to his neck since we’d left home.

They say that we should be in New York before nightfall, so at least it should’ve cooled down some by then. I think that they’re right. I remember last time we went to visit Aunt Louisa, it was quite cool in the evenings. I’m looking forwards to that, and playing with my cousins, obviously.

‘Well go ahead Tommy, take one.’

I didn’t know what Mom was talking about at first, but then I noticed that Mr Hudson was holding out a bag of candy. I know we’d only met him on this trip but he sure seemed a nice guy. Mom and Pop think so too, I guess. He’d certainly made us all laugh hard enough with his stream of funny stories.

I don’t know how he kept those Junior Mints from melting in that bag, but they sure tasted good. ‘Thank you, sir’, I mumbled as the chocolate began to roll around my tongue.

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full son’, said Pop. He’d have complained if I hadn’t said thank you though. Sometimes I think that he’s just looking for a reason to say I’ve done wrong.

‘Ah, he’s a good lad, aren’t you Tommy?’ I nodded, not knowing how to not be wrong. ‘I bet you get up to all kinds of scrapes back home on that farm of yours, don’t you boy?’

I looked at Mom to help me out of this one. Thankfully she saw that I was still working on my mint and jumped in. ‘He’s a good boy Mr Hudson. Never talks back, always does his chores. We’re real proud of him aren’t we dear?’

Pop gave me a quick look as if to say, ‘Don’t make us look bad here.’

‘He does his share’, he said. I’ll take a reluctant praise from Pop over none at all any day, though he watered the compliment down quickly enough by adding, ‘Though spends too much time reading those comic books for my liking.’

The other man reached over and ruffled my hair. I scowled slightly as I was trying to grow it a little – not that my parents would ever let me have it long – but he seemed friendly enough. He’d certainly made the long journey more enjoyable.

‘I’ve seen some young fellas get into some right scrapes. You won’t be like that though, will you Tommy?’

Before I could even try to answer Pop got in quick. ‘He most certainly will not.’

‘Then again’ said Mr Hudson, ignoring him, ‘some of their hijinks are certainly a riot. Take the one I saw a couple a months ago. It musta taken some planning, yes sir, but it worked a real doozy.’

‘Why was that Mr Hudson?’ Mom seemed to really enjoy listening to this man. I guess he took her mind off the boiling heat in the compartment. She fanned herself a little quicker, if that were at all possible.

‘Well ma’am I’ll tell you. ‘

Mr Hudson travelled a lot for work apparently, though he never did explain what his job was. He did tell us though that his great prank story started on a train.

‘Why, it was this very train itself, the one that arrives at Grand Central Station just in time for an early evening libation, if you get my drift.’ I didn’t, but my parents seemed to. ‘I was in a carriage just a ways farther along the train, just me and a young family like yourselves, only they had a young girl too. Cute as a button, she was. Name of Harriett, so they said. ’ Mr Hudson seemed to like stories that rambled all over the place. I’d been drifting in and out of the grown-ups’ conversation – although it was mostly Mr Hudson doing all the talking now that I think about it – alternating between listening to them and watching the scenery out of the window, but this new story caught my attention. Honestly, all