The Cantu Collection

By Richard Cantu

Since our earliest days, human beings have always told stories. Storytelling is a way of connecting us to other people, and enriching our lives. Within THE CANTU COLLECTION, you will find eleven, thought provoking, short stories that will enthrall you from beginning to end. Each completely original story was meticulously crafted by first time author, Richard Cantu. With genre stories ranging from melodrama to fantasy, there is something here for everyone to enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780359005406

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The Cantu Collection

THE CANTU COLLECTION

Written by Richard Cantu

Illustrations by Anthony Driscoll

COPYRIGHT

Copyright 2018 by Richard Cantu ISBN 978-0-359-00585-7 Copyright license

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First printing: 2018

ISBN: 978-0-359-00585-7

Lulu

481 Bradford Pl

Bolingbrook, IL

60490

www.cantuhouseofwriting.blogspot.com

TABLE OF CONTENTS

0.     Introduction

CHICKEN NUGGETS

MEASURE OF THE FIST

THE TRIAL OF LADY GWYNETH

ON THE EDGE OF A KNIFE

WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME?

VILLAGE OF MISTS

MAGE OF THE GODDESS

A CLEANSER'S TALE

THE WORLD WITHIN HER GRASP

WELCOME BACK

DONOVAN & KIARA

Afterward

I dedicate this book to my mother, who always encouraged me to dream, and to my sister, who I could always share my dreams with.

INTRODUCTION

What's up, reader? Thank you so much for purchasing this copy of THE CANTU COLLECTION! More importantly than that even, thank you for actually opening it up and reading it. I'm Richard. I'm a college student, Army veteran(shout out to D CO 1/327 MADDOGS!), and an all around fairly positive person. Being creative is very important to me. I really enjoy writing fiction, because to me, nothing allows me to flex my creative muscles in exactly the same way. I love coming up with ideas for stories and building entire worlds. With that said, I really hope you dig this collection of short stories. I think there's a little something here for almost everyone to have fun with. If you wind up liking the stories, and I really hope you do, that's wonderful. If not, that's cool too. I will continue to write more in the future, and I feel that with time, I will continue to improve. This is only a glimpse of what's to come! Enjoy!

CHICKEN NUGGETS

Your ears look like chicken nuggets. That was actually one of the more common remarks I'd heard. Wrestling ever since I was six helped me develop thick skin, which was good because along with it, I also developed a pretty nasty case of cauliflower ear. It was the nature of the game. I wasn't too upset about it. Something I was a little more upset about though, were people's reactions to the way I looked. People didn't always have the same responses, so at least I got a little variety every now and then, but there was always a definite response one way or another. Ranging from wide eyed curiosity to outright disgust, I'd seen it all really. The best was when people would just kind of stare at me, but would look away real fast when I'd turn back to look at them. I think I partly appreciated their attempt to at least discreetly gape at me like some kind of side show attraction. I could always tell they wanted to come up and ask me about my ears. Sometimes they did. Can you imagine it? A complete stranger coming up to you and saying something like, Hey man...you into mixed martial arts or what?

I always knew where that question lead. Nowhere productive, that's for sure. You'd be surprised how many people would try to fight you in a public place, or get you to show them some moves just from looking at your ears. Over the years, I had developed a falsified and orchestrated response for questions like this. Nah man, I was born this way. Genetics is crazy you know? That usually got them to shut their mouths. The smart ones anyway. The not so smart ones would usually keep pushing me, trying to get me to give them the answers they wanted to hear.

I'd gotten pretty good at learning how to walk away before things got out of hand. That wasn't always an option though. Bouncing at the Lonestar was never going to be an easy job. It was a tacky little dive bar, popular with appropriately tacky people. Any place that played Pitbull and Little Big Town on the same night deserved to be shutdown immediately. I took the job because the pay was decent and I had to do something after they burnt down the last club I worked at. I wasn't working on the night of the arson. The place would still be standing if I had. I made this point abundantly clear to my new employers during the interview process. Honestly though, the boss was eager to hire me from the beginning. He took one look at my ears and I was pretty much in. The chicken nuggets aren't all bad in that regard.

I had been working at the Lonestar for about a month before I met the lady. I had learned the ins and outs of the establishment, if you could call it that. I preferred to compare it to an outhouse. The place was far too small for the amount of people it was bringing in every night. I was chillin' in the back the way I usually do, surveying the crowd, making note of potential incidents. There were at least ten on any given night, ranging from guys who were over their limit, to kids who somehow made it past the A-Team outside. They didn't check ID's strictly, if at all. I swear, sometimes it felt like I was the only one there who actually cared about the job.

As I surveyed the crowd, her eyes caught my own. The two emeralds stood out dramatically among the web of bodies throughout the club.

She was a beautiful, young woman with dark hair, and full lips which were curved into a playful smirk. Out of the many looks people gave me on a daily basis, a look of flirtation usually wasn't one of them. It was dark in the club. I was thinking maybe she hadn't seen my ears. One look at these bad dragons was usually enough to get the ladies looking in the other direction. I turned my head and craned my neck to give her a good view. In my head, I could picture the look on her face. That confident smirk of hers was probably turning upside down real fast. Yeah, lady. Get a good look at the freak show.

I turned back to stare at her, and to my surprise she hadn't glanced away. Her attention was still completely on me. It wasn't a grimace marring that gorgeous face of hers as I had imagined. No, to the contrary, she continued to look at me with that same smirk. It widened a little, almost as if she had seen through my ploy. Those eyes of hers were scintillating, and they bore right into me as if she could see me for who I really was. It was as if all my fears and insecurities were laid bare before her, and there was nothing I could do to conceal them. I felt a heat rise up in my chest and decided to look away. This lady and her pretty eyes were fucking up my head.

I made my way to the bar on the other side of the club. I wouldn't have to see the woman there. I stood there for a moment and wondered what was wrong with me. I hated when other people looked at me with contempt or curiosity, but I couldn't handle it when someone stared at me with interest or approval?

Was I not deserving of those kinds of looks? That woman seemed to think otherwise.                                                 

Maybe my ears weren't really such a big deal. Maybe the only person who couldn't really accept me was me. A rough hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality.

"Hey man! I'm talking to you! You can't hear me with those Frankenstein ears huh?"

Frankenstein! That was a pretty good one. I could respect the reference to classic literature. I looked to my right and saw a fairly young guy with frosted tips and a button down that was about two sizes too small. He was swaying to and fro with a glass of dark liquor in his hand, and his eyes could only manage to stay halfway open.

What's up, buddy? I asked with familiarity. It was always good to start off friendly.

Whats up with you? The drunk guy replied, spit flying from his mouth. His voice was loud and belligerent and I already knew what his next words were gonna be. Whats up with those eeeaaaars? Are you one of them wrestlers man?

Inwardly, I was getting pretty heated with this guy, but I offered a warm smile. Nah, man. I'm one of the bouncers here. You feeling alright? I figured the mention of me being a bouncer would be enough to put him in check. He wouldn't want to get into it with me then. That's what I thought at least.

Oh you're a bouncer, huh? The man slurred.

You think you're a tough guy? You think you're a badass?

Hey man, just chill out. You've had a lot to drink, right?

Drunk dude's voice went up an octave or two. "Fuck you, man! You're not tough, man! I'm like The Karate Kid! I'll beat your ass!"

Still holding onto his glass, the drunk guy put his arms and leg up like he was Daniel-san at the All Valley Karate Championship. Quickly, I placed my foot behind his remaining leg and gave the guy a little shove. Being as drunk as he was, he went straight down to the floor, his bourbon soaring into the air before baptizing him all down his face and shirt. A few of my associates had been watching the entire thing play out. They came over to my side, picked up the drunk and carried him out of the bar. I guess I wasn't the only person who cared about his job after all. I moved towards the door to follow up on them. As I made my way past the crowd, I felt a soft hand on my arm. I looked over to see who else wanted to try me tonight, and I was faced with those same piercing, green eyes again. It was the woman from before.

That was clever of you. That move of yours. She had an accent. British or maybe Australian.

Is there something I can help you with, miss?

I liked the way you handled yourself. What if I told you that I had a business opportunity for you?

"Then I'd tell you that I wasn't born yesterday. I saw you looking at me before.

You've seen my ears, and now you've seen what I can do. So what are you after?

She gave me another scrutinizing stare. It was like she was searching for something.                                              

Your ears. You're ashamed of them. Why?

They stand out. I answered truthfully. You gonna answer my question?

You shouldn't be afraid to stand apart from others. You are a fighter. And one who fights should never be ashamed of the scars he has earned in battle.

That was one of the more off the wall things anyone in this bar had ever told me. I was guessing this woman was pretty tipsy. Then again, I only saw a glass of water on her table. Truth be told, her words struck a chord with me. Part of me anyway.