R.D.M. Shorts

By Richard McGehee

This is a collection of my short stories. I spent many years on some of them and some of them not so long. I loved creating them and I hope you enjoy reading them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.D.M. Publishing Company
• Release date: Nov 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386914914

Book preview

By:

Richard D. McGehee

R.D.M.’s Table of Contents

R.D.M. Shorts

These First Three Are Dedicated To My Beloved, Hank McGehee

Pink Death

I WILL

My Dream

The Lighter Side of Life

Klickitat the Cat

Esmeralda

Rayndon Copperwynd

Love Fills My Heart

A New Dawn

The Darker Side of Life

Thank You Jimmy

Mortal Clock

Blue Dakota

Room 227

From the many cities and towns and peoples of Irus, Clamber Island, and all around the Is-Pan Sea

Night Feast

15 Pieces

The Betrayal of Johnathan Jacobson

Rose May Park

Albino Resistance Begins

The Darkness Within

The Shadow Wolf of Blankenshire Forest

Fun with Co-Workers

Blake the Beach Bat

MOOKS

Randy S. Mook

Jennifer R. Mook

Henry D. Mook

Fagan V. Mook

My Very First Story

Thank You

Copyright: © 2017 by Richard D. McGehee, all rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in any retrievable system or transmitted in any form by any means without the written permission of the publisher or the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, or journal.

Published by R.D.M. Publishing Company

Publish Copyright: © 2017 R.D.M. Publishing Company, all rights reserved.

Published and printed in the United States of America. All characters in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. R.D.M. Publishing Company: [e-mail]

These First Three Are Dedicated To My Beloved, Hank McGehee

2002-2016

Pink Death

By:

Richard D. McGehee

A LITTLE AFTER NOON the strokes start, five in total. I scoop you up from the foyer and head for the car.

My white shirt is soaked with the remnants of your uncontrolled bodily functions. I hold you close to me in the backseat, your strokes getting worse by the second.

My eyes are full of tears as I mentally prepare for what is to come. In your ear, I whisper my words of love and support. I kiss the top of your shaking head. I push your tongue back into your mouth. We arrive. I carry you in.

1:40 P.M. the first needle goes in. A powerful sedative rushes milky white into your veins. I close my eyes and my mind races back fourteen years ago to the day you came into my life. How happy you have made me my furry Angel. You will always be my baby boy, my sweet bucket of love.

Tears roll down my face as I whisper into your ear my head mere inches from yours. I love you baby boy. Daddy is going to fix it. I will make your pain go away...Daddy loves you forever.

I hug you and keep you close as the sedative does its work. Your eyes close. Your breathing levels out. Still I whisper into your soft fawn colored ears.

I give you my unconditional love as you have given yours to me all these long years. Daddy is here my sweetness of the world. I tell you as my tears run into your fur.

The second needle goes in. More tears rush from me. The pink liquid from the syringe hits your blood stream.

Moments to go now, soon the pain and strokes will stop. More and more tears flow. I hug you tighter, still telling you how much I love you and what a good boy you are.

Peace washes over your face. I feel your body go limp. The last breath escapes from your open mouth. I feel your heart stop under my hand. The pink death has put an end to your suffering.  Now mine begins.

1:45 P.M. March 5th, 2016 my sweetest boy leaves this world and it's never-ending suffering behind.

I love you my bucket. Daddy will always love you my sweetest heart of my world. I tell you once again through my pain and tears. I hold you close for the very last time. Goodbye my love.

I WILL

By:

Richard D. McGehee

How will you die?

Will you go out with a whimper or a bang?

Who will whisper your name?

I will

Will history record your life?

Or will it be swallowed up with the slow passage of time?

Who will whisper your name?

I will

Will the thought of you warm someone on a cold winter day?

Or will your memory bring joy to a lonely heart riddled with never ending pain?

Who will whisper your name?

I will

My Dream

By:

Richard D. McGehee

I FEEL THE SUN ON MY body warming me against the cool breeze blowing in off the Pacific.

I have no idea if the ocean I’m hearing and smelling is indeed the Pacific but something deep down in my gut tells me that it is.

My eyes are closed and the sound of seagulls and waves crashing into the beach fills my ears. While at the same time the smells of salt and decaying organics assault my nose.

Suddenly, and from every direction, tongues start licking my face and hands. Somehow this makes me smile; I feel no fear.

My heart is swelling with unconditional love the longer the tongues do their work. I can feel hot breath on my skin.

A familiar smell dominates my nose, knocking out the beach smells. It’s a smell I’ve not smelled in a long time; a smell I dearly miss.

I open my eyes.

I am indeed lying on the beach and it is indeed the Pacific Ocean pounding away at the coastline. I recognize the beach; I’m at the Jetty in Ocean Shores.

I’m surrounded by every dog and cat that has ever graced my life; all of my lost babies. My smile widens. My eyes start to leak as that old familiar lump begins forming in my throat.

My eyes fall on the source of the familiar scent. To my right sits Hank, young and cancer free. The tears in my eyes break free as I scoop him up and hold him close to me. I’m taking in his doggy scent as I look out towards the shore.

Coal, Shilo, Scruff, Brutus, Nugget, Pud, Coke, Popeye, Whiskey, and many more dogs and cats that I don’t recognize are running up and down the beach playing in the sand and surf. Not one of them in pain. Not one of them is suffering.

I hug Hank tighter and that’s when I see them. They are splashing in the rolling waves and sitting on the rocks of the Jetty.

Grandma and Grandpa Thomas, Grandpa McGehee, Uncle Doyle, Aunt Pauline, Aunt Fern, Uncle Russell, Uncle Albert, all of my lost family members. Not one of them in pain. Not one of them is suffering. They see me looking at them and as one they wave at me. I wave back.

My emotions are on overload and my tears are flowing like a faucet. Deep down in my core, in my soul, I am filled with happiness and love.

I close my eyes again. Hank starts to lick my tears away his warm breath a comfort to me.

The sounds and smells of the beach vanish. I can still feel Hank licking my eyes...I hold him up and away from my face. I open my eyes.

Brax is looking down at me as I hold him above my face. He is ready to go potty and has been trying to wake me up by licking my eyes and hands. Something he always does after waking.

I smile at him. Hug him tight. Brax play-growls meaning he is ready to play and start his day. I tell him he is a good boy! And for once in a very long time I remember my dream in every detail and in every emotion.

I look at the painting of Hank my mom painted for me. I look at the canvas of Hank I made after he left this world and I smile.

My heart swells with peace, love, and an odd understanding as I get up to let my newest baby outside.

The Lighter Side of Life

Klickitat the Cat

By:

Richard D McGehee

Klickitat the Cat wondered this way and that.

What is this? Oh...what is that?!? Asked, Klickitat the Cat.

Klickitat sat. He sat and he sat pondering over this...and seriously doubting that.

While he sat Klickitat the Cat played with some of this...but none of that.

Klickitat the Cat yawned and he yawned. Klickitat was completely bored with this, and totally over that. Klickitat the Cat decided to take a long, long nap.

Klickitat the Cat stretched and he stretched. He always enjoyed waking from his long, long naps.

This was all gone and that seemed to have grown. Klickitat hissed and Klickitat moaned.

He raised his hackles high, hoping that would fly.

Klickitat the Cat ran this way and that, fearing this and dodging that.

He passed a smelly old shoe and something that looked like goo. Klickitat the Cat finally took refuge in a large paper sack his body shaking from this and because of mean olé that.

Klickitat the Cat peeked and he peeked. No sign of that from inside the sack. His courage recaptured Klickitat sprang from the depths of the riddled old paper sack!

Klickitat the Cat pranced and he danced. Swatting at this and pawing at that.

He made his way here and he made his way there.

Klickitat the Cat had a good time chasing this and playing with that.

The day was all but spent and Klickitat found himself home at last.

Klickitat the Cat abandoned this and finished stalking and striking at that. He made his way inside to his warm and caring human pet.

Klickitat the Cat purred and he purred as he rubbed all over his owner's lap.

Warm and caring hands rubbed and they scratched up and down Klickitat’s back as he settled in for a long warm nap.

Esmeralda

By:

Richard D. McGehee

LONG, HAVE I SAT, MY tail feathers hurt. At first I thought it a grand idea to raise chicks. Now, as I'm sitting here in yet another rain storm, hovering over these insufferable eggs, I'm having my fifth wave of second thoughts.

For the most part this place is perfect for my nest. There is, however, this human problem. Every 30 minutes they drive by. One egghead even called me Esmeralda! Can you believe it! The gal of calling me that!

Of course I have no idea what it means. I suppose it’s a name...possibly my name. I don’t recall ever having a name, or needing one at that. I am a Goose, thank you very much! And Geese don’t need names! But still, he drives by and calls me Esmeralda. I just stare at him with distain and loathing.

I think I am starting to like the name this human has given me. But I will never tell him that. I still don’t trust, or like him at all.

How are you doing Esmeralda? he calls at least twice a night. I just look scathingly at him as he rolls on by in that large white monstrosity.

Today was a nice and warm day, for a change. And still the human insists on calling me Esmeralda. Every time the name falls from his face I shoot daggers at him and ruffle my feathers, warning him to stay away. Why can’t he leave me in peace?

Hello Esmeralda! he says, time and time again. Such a good Gooser! he spews from his mushy lips. The babbling fool can’t even say Goose right! He is quickly becoming my least favorite human. Not that I have much love for the squishy creatures to begin with, foul beasts! Where is my male when I need him?

Oh! That’s right! He sprayed the eggs and then without a backward glance, took flight. He returns only when he deems it necessary, after all, he is a goose!

Did I expect romance, flowers, or candies? Of course not! I am a Goose! And Geese don’t need all that useless frivolity!

This irksome human is throwing pieces of bread at me. Here Esmeralda, eat up! He says as he speeds away in his foul smelling monstrosity. I flap my wings and hiss at him menacingly as he throws the last of the bread.

Eat up indeed! I am not your pet, human! I will not be pandered to and pawed at, thank you very much! I am a Goose!

Still the bread smells good.

Reluctantly, I