8 Lucky

By Jerry Battiste

A cornucopia of short stories for a variety of tastes. Stories meant to remind us all of who we are: fragile creatures in a sometimes harsh world, yet not without hope that mysteries still remain and wonders abound.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jerry Battiste
• Release date: Jun 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301208456

Jerry Battiste

I am the author of "The ABC's of Social Media Management" and the short story collection "8 Lucky." I am a professional blogger, short fiction writer, social media manager and all-around digital media story-teller. If you need help with your social media marketing efforts, or just want to learn more about me, you can find me on Twitter, Facebook, Elance and LinkedIn. If you are looking for a sample of my writing, try a simple Google Search. You can also find me on YouTube. I started my illustrious journalism career in 1986, working for The Bagpiper Newspaper at Daytona Beach Community College. Unfortunately, I was the only one who fit the mascot costume. My editor at the time Ron Hurtibise can vouch for my dedication and commitment to the cause. In 2008 I went to work as the Social Media editor at The News-Banner in Bluffton, Indiana, under the guidance of editor/publisher Mark Miller. Although he didn't realize it at the time Miller was on the cutting edge when it came to print media embracing digital media simply because he hired me. Within weeks I created an online community which reached more than 10,000 people, using Twitter, Facebook and a series of community blogs. We issued video cameras to all staff reporters and I created a YouTube channel so we could post our news videos. We increased the reach of our paper by a factor of three using digital media and attracted the attention of the Hoosier State Press Association and the Associated Press for our outstanding digital media tactics.

Book preview

8 Lucky

Stories of Love, Life, Mystery and Suspense

By Jerry Battiste

~~~

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Jerry Battiste

All rights reserved

Cover art by Chenboi

Reproduction of this publication in whole or in part without express written consent of the publisher is strictly prohibited.

This book is a work of original fiction. Any similarities between the characters in these stories and any person, living or dead; or the stories themselves is purely coincidental.

Published by Dandelion Digital Media

www.DandelionDigitalMedia.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.

Table of Contents

Daddy's Cat

Damn Good Life

The Letters

Ship In A Bottle

The Date

Cutter

(Definitely Not) A Stalker

Magpie

About The Author

Daddy's Cat

Jack Markham brought the hatchback down with a solid thud, vibrating the little car and bulging the windows.

Daddy! came his daughter’s voice from behind him. Not so hard. This little car has to get me back and forth to school for the next four years you know.

Just out of high school and suddenly she’s the one giving all the lectures. But he would have none of it.

Well, if you got yourself a real car, you wouldn’t have to worry about it falling apart on you, he cracked.

A real car? I thought this was a real car, she laughed as she loaded a half full box into the front seat on the passenger’s side.

He frowned at her smile.

I mean an American car, he groused. These little Japanese cars are made out of plastic for Pete’s sake. Who ever heard of making a car out of plastic? Some guy’s gonna come up behind you and pow! That’ll be it for you. He was being overly dramatic, but he didn’t care. He had worked at a GM plant for the last 15 years so he knew something of what he spoke.

But the terrible truth was he missed her already and she hadn’t even left the driveway. She was the only person he had left in the world and although he would never admit it, he couldn’t stand watching her go.

Dad, stop being such a worrier, she scolded him. Her little rosebud lips curled into a distinct frown as she turned toward him. I’ll be fine.

I’m not worried about you, he lied. It’s this little plastic car I’m worried about.

Her frown melted into the most beautiful smile and her eyes grew large and bright.

I’ll miss you too, Daddy, she said and threw her arms around his neck. She hung there for a long minute and he let her. It hurt his back to support her weight, but he didn’t care. He would miss her hugs, her laugh, her smile, her endless questions.

In a flash of memory he was walking with her hand in hand to the mailbox. She was a tottering 2-year-old, clasping his hand in hers and baby-talking the whole way. Every step was a trial, every unexpected stone in her path a possible calamity to be averted.

He remembered turning around halfway to the mailbox to wave at Mommy. Janey. God, he

missed her still.

He looked down at their daughter and said, Look, there’s momma as he slowly turned her to see the woman watching them from the porch. Long blonde hair hanging about her shoulders, a white sundress and a book in her hands. She loved to read. Wave to momma. That’s it, wave. They all laughed together. A whole family. It was one of the last times. Just a few months later Janey would get sick and by the next year she was gone.

He snapped back to the present as he felt the tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes. He tried to look away. Katey of course noticed immediately.

Daddy, she said, and brushed his graying-brown hair back from his face. I love you. It’ll be OK. I’ll be back at Fall Break. That’s just a couple months. You’ll see, you’ll be glad to be rid of me; you’ll have the whole house to yourself. Turn up the television as loud as you want; walk around naked all day long if you’d like. She laughed.

He couldn’t help laughing a little himself.

Oh yeah--nakedness, can’t wait to be naked, he said dryly. And smiled down at her.

She smiled back. You can always call Mr. Kindness, she said innocently. Didn’t you two used be friends, back when you had a real life?

She already knew the answer to that question; knew the whole story backwards and forwards, but she acted like the thought just came to her.

Jack knew she knew the whole story and wasn’t at all appreciative of the suggestion. She had probably already suggested the same thing to Kindness and the last thing he needed was someone intruding on his privacy; a neighbor who likes to visit every day whether you want him there or not. Maybe twenty years ago, when he was young and stupid and didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders the idea would have made more sense. But Kindness was the last thing he needed right now.

He frowned and started to explain why he didn’t need anyone around bothering him when all he wanted to do was watch television in peace. But she interrupted him.

Wait a minute, she said abruptly. I almost forgot something very important. She turned and hurried to the backyard shed and returned momentarily with another , smaller, cardboard box.

Only this one was making a noise. A cat noise.

He hated cats.

I know you don’t like cats, but I found this little guy in the alley behind work last night and I just couldn’t leave him there, she said and thrust the box at him.

He peered inside and saw something that was not quite a kitten, but not quite a full-grown cat either. It’s definitely an alley cat, he thought. It had a tiny black button nose and bright eyes, and was looking up at him.

Me-eow, it cried softly. He smiled at it in spite of himself, but still didn’t want it in his house.

No Katey. No cats, he said reluctantly. You know I don’t like cats. Why don’t you take it with you to school. You need a roommate anyway. He tried giving her back the box but she pushed it away and started heading back inside for her remaining belongings.

I won’t have time to worry about a new pet at school now, she called over her shoulder. Just keep it here until I get settled and then I’ll bring it back with me one time after I visit. You’ll see, you’ll love having company and probably won’t want to let him go.

He wasn’t as sure of the match as she was, but he had never been very good at turning her down.

Her mother used to have the same effect on him. He looked in at the little kitten one last time and folded the lid back across the top. He put the box inside the front door of the house and pushed it to one side. He would have to deal with that problem later.

Look, if the cat is a big problem maybe I’ll come back sooner, she said and smiled knowingly.

It made his heart leap for a moment.

Ok, he said. If it will make you feel better I’ll keep the cat for now. He hugged her again.

And as much as I would love to see you, please don’t worry about me -- or it. In a sudden role reversal, he was now the one trying to assuage her anxiety.

Together they spent the next twenty minutes stuffing his daughter’s last few belongings into the little plastic car, saying a dozen more goodbyes, sharing a dozen more hugs and kisses; and then she was gone.

Waving out the window at him as she slowly pulled away from the curb, she shouted a few more I love you’s and he responded in kind.

Once she had turned the corner at the end of their road he went back inside the big, empty house, sat down on the sofa, looked at the little box that went meow every now and then, and he cried.

He didn’t get much time to sit and lament his loss, however. The kitten was insistent in its mewing. It must be hungry, or thirsty or both, he thought.

He knew his daughter had fed it. He hadn’t raised her to neglect her pets. She most likely hid it in the shed all night so he wouldn’t have time to find a new home for it. Now he was stuck with it.

And it was crying insufferably.

Well, he thought. Let’s get you something to eat.

He rubbed away the tears, breathed deep and stood to head toward the kitchen. As he did he saw his neighbor, Barry Kindness, standing on his front porch, just about to knock.

Jack thought a moment of how he had always hated that about this house. There was no way to hide from someone standing on the front porch.

Barry saw him immediately and waved. He was practically inside the house anyway, so there was no point in trying to avoid him. And since the front door was glass and the windows were open Barry could just talk to him like they were face to face, instead of facing a closed wooden door.

Jack opened the front door anyway.

Hey Jack, Barry said jovially. He was always jolly. Annoyingly so. The guy was a little older than Jack, but still acted like a kid. He was also always trying to be friends, but luckily Jack had no time for him. He had a real job at the factory while Barry got fat trading stocks all day on his computer.

Hey Barry,