BREW

By Dean Shelton

A conjuration of a challenging scene by the Author, an attempt to show reality; perhaps gone un-noticed or even thought of before.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Dean Shelton resides on the East Coast, Georgia and enjoys writing short stories to stir emotions and c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Jan 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781947355965

Dean Shelton

Residing in Georgia, the author uses the mighty pen to produce inspiring and interesting narratives. Also, the author likes writing short stories for those that enjoy a quick read. The author looks forward to continuing to provide narratives, which quickly gets to the point keeping up with today’s fast pace.

Book preview

PREFACE 

Tee and Pace continue their journey. 

They make their mark in the world. 

They uncover more pain. 

They trade it all in for love. 

Both of them embrace their destiny. 

She embraces her future. 

He embraces his past. 

They accept help from Madison and Zeke. 

Ona gains wisdom. 

Violet and Moselle come home. 

The other three leave the nest. 

New family members come to dinner. 

The City is bad. 

Grate Point is haunted. 

The Cut will always leave a mark. 

Love thrives everywhere. 

PART I 

CHAPTER ONE 

Posters with flagrant language and graphics lay out on tables around the room. Splashes of paint covered the floor. Some of the splashes were in the shape of footprints from being tracked around the room. More paper stock was piled in a corner, but the pile was getting smaller by the minute as quick as a new slogan could be sketched. This rally required a powerful message, and fanatical brains worked diligently to get their point across. 

Weather permitted it. At least a thousand marchers pounded the streets to be heard to support utilized medical care. UMC’s brainchild watched from a surveillance sight, not because of fear of being the messenger, but only to manage the mail and the calls. Someone had to stay behind the scenes. 

Medical expenses skyrocketed, and this UMC plan appeared to be the answer to the rising cost. The plan would phase in like any other utility. Almost, each household has electricity, water, gas and phones. So, why not add medical care as a utility? A house could be set up for that, also. 

They met and spoke softly, almost whispering about how to take care of ‘the problem.’ They leaned into each other. They shook their heads at each other. They maintained stern expressions. 

Someone was a traitor already, already infiltrating the marchers to get to the bottom line of how it all could be marketed for a fortune. Those marchers were out there for the hell of it, as far as could be seen, but there was money in it, and lots of it. 

The news on the television broadcasted that they were out there in groves, numbering a few hundreds. The weather didn’t hold up, and posters bled under the drizzle. Marchers wrapped it up, returned to the sites or went home, determined to rally under the next call. This wasn’t the end. 

Policemen, relieved, patrolled as city street cleaners cleaned wet streets until they emptied of posters and other debris. That was opportune. The drizzle finished them, also. Some of them rode bikes, while others used patrol cars and walked on foot. 

They, at the table, noticed the news on the television and now was silent. Maybe, all this hooplah about this will dissipate and become old news. The waiters ignored the news. They didn’t make enough money to afford insurance anyway. Utilities already surpassed their earnings. Right now, tips was what they demanded more. If only someone supported a march for that, more money for tips. 

Rain drizzled on into the night. Several marchers remained in the office overnight, napping on couches placed in corners for just that purpose. The West Coast office area was in a spacious warehouse that provided all the facilities. 

Weeks later, remembering happier times: 

Beach life, the sand, the ocean, the seagulls, the fishy smell in the air contrasted country life, the dirt, the woods, the buzzards, the smell of oak and pine; yet, both places have provided immense happiness for me. 

Having water right at your toes to dive into anytime, well, you can’t beat it. When we came here twenty years ago, my folks and I, I had no idea life could become a real, fairy-tale. My Moma blossomed. 

The girls grew up just as fast as I did, and the man that stepped in to be our dad kept his promise, ‘People will respect me for the right thing, for taking care of my family, you and the younguns, and Tee.’ 

When there is happiness, time flies. I came home for a few days for some ‘r and r’ before leaving to go to a meeting in my old home town. My UMC proposal had to be presented in person. My people and I are determined to get it adopted. We had some models set up across country, and they work as good as any utility. Someone I recognize is running in the distance towards me. Her feet was kicking up sand. She came closer panting and laughing, I’m fast, aren’t I?  

What are you comparing yourself to? 

It’s not what.  

Hmm?  

You . . .  

What about me? 

You can’t run faster than me.  

That’s because you scare easy.  

Who came up with that nonsense? 

It’s not nonsense. It’s a common denominator. 

I’m a little disappointed that you think of me that way.  

Don’t be. I adore you. Scared can save your life. 

Oh, I almost forgot. You have a phone call. The person, man, I think, has called several times. Moma told me to find you and give you the message. She thought that it must be important. 

I knew who called. All the while, another image of me looked on with a smile. She was cooking up some challenge for me, no doubt. 

The next morning, with my luggage in hand, my sister drove me to the airport. I looked in my purse for my shades and spilled things out, which she noticed, and asked, Who’s the guy? 

I said, Just another person working on the proposal.  

Really, there must be more pictures in your purse.  

Why? 

He must be special. You have a picture of one nice-looking man in your purse. And, you have not mentioned anything about a man to any of us. Come to think of it, you haven’t talked much about anything, since you came in the last few days. You stayed on the beach most of the time. 

What’s wrong with that? 

Well, you must have a lot on your mind.  

I do. 

Look, don’t shut us out. We like keeping up with you. 

I can only say, the next time I come home, we’ll talk more. 

Moma and Dad think the world revolves around you. The rest of us are distant stars. 

Traffic flowed nicely with a lot of sport cars cruising past taxis. Usually, I don’t carry much luggage, but Moma bought me a few sweaters for cool nights. There was no place to leave them in the house where they wouldn’t be found by her. My sister parked nicely behind a convertible blasting music, while a passenger jumped out hurrying into the airport. 

I leaned into the car gathering my luggage. She came around to give me a hug. She kissed me on the cheek and mouth about five times. I chided her, Enough, got to go, now. 

Inside the airport, things got hectic. For some reason, I found myself standing side by side of the same person that I had seen jump out of the convertible with blasting music that we had parked behind. 

These lines are slow. I guess it didn’t mean anything, even though one of my calls earlier warned me to be very careful. My proposal was in a secure bank safe. 

And, he had an important part, secured as well. He would meet her when she arrived, and he would accompany her to the meeting. So, she felt safe. Without incidence, the lines flowed. 

The plane was in air with her sitting next to the window. The other person leaned toward her way taking up more room. To  her, the sky was scary and beautiful, a disturbing contrast; but not yet realized by her, it was home as well. 

As she made her way to baggage claims, she said to herself, Being squeezed into that window was no fun. The flight landed timely, to save me from being smothered. 

Feeling a strange feeling suddenly made her bag weigh heavy on her arm. This place wasn’t a dirty city anymore. Buildings looked new, and streets were well paved. Who would have believed that an airport would be built here? Well, the same thing could be said of me, who would believe? 

Also, in the airport, waiting for hours, a young man approached her. I’ve been walking all over this place looking for you. We were to meet at the entrance. 

This is the entrance, on the outside. 

Miss Specific, I can see that, now. I was only concerned about the flights. You came in on a flight from the South, and I came in from the West Coast. We could have traveled together. 

That’s a no-no for now. And, we are here together. 

Taking her bag from her, he chose not to make a scene and bring attention to themselves, so he dangled the keys before her eyes and said, Let’s get out of here and get prepared. 

She followed him to a sport-utility vehicle. He saw her staring at it and added, We needed it to carry everything, and we may have extra passengers. 

Fine, it’s so big, that’s all, you think of everything.  

That’s me, ‘Everything Man’. 

This time, it was her vehicle blasting, oddly enough, to keep the peace, between her and him. 

CHAPTER TWO 

The only thing that they, the Group, on the West Coast, who had sat at the table in restaurant watching television, devised was a plot to have her followed until they figured it all out. Of course, it played right into the hands of the conspirator, who was interested in his own gains. He placed the best contact that he could hire on her tail. The Group hired a contact that had outstanding credentials, also. 

The Group contacted him in the southern territory, and he ascertained that for the right amount, success was the only result, no matter what they required. The funds were wired, and he barely made it to the airport, jumping out right at her convertible, nearly bumping into her. She didn’t appear to notice their crossing paths, so no need for flags. Very astute, he had said, I can’t afford to let her see me like this again, especially not in the City. 

Continuing the plot, a reliable contact, for a hefty price, found another resource exactly where she was headed. Who would be better than an acquaintance? The City was revitalized, but street crime still flourished. 

The crime went upscale with more presentable deals taking place in fine restaurants and suave nightclubs. No longer did things happen in back alleys like the Cut. The old days had gone, somewhat. 

The reliable contact, traitor, needed her alive until he could retrieve that proposal and understand the profit behind it. After that, she and whomever is with her would have to take a long one-way trip. 

The traitor, talked to her, a long-time resident; but didn’t tell her everything, not his end game. He had met her twice at a nightclub. She was highly recommended by his associates, and he was impressed when he first met her: 

"Let me enlighten you about my personal side, about my dark past. A real torturer, a damn dedicated ‘Dominatrix’, that’s who branded my soul, and I still have beautiful scars for proof, looming memories that drive me. That was back in the day." 

So, you had an excellent teacher, my darling.  

I would agree. 

Beautiful as you are, you choose to not marry. How about considering a proposition? 

I had had a man, just, up and left me. 

I’m proposing a future, with me. 

I only want to make men and women happy from now on. That man in my past is my motivation for my vocations. 

I will be back for more, soon. 

The second time, my session with her was overpowering: 

Can you do that thing you did before? I have needs. They have not been met. 

Certainly love, I have remedies beyond your imagination. Let me see, umm, this one will do. 

There were other nemesis that had to be faced. Now, that Dr. Beacon found herself back in her birthplace, she began to re-experience. In the hotel suite, she awoke with a piercing headache, which was unusual. She looked over at him, and he was still knocked out, snoring softly. 

She reached over to the nightstand to see the time, and used the hotel phone. She checked her schedule and figured, "I’ll be late