Restless for Retribution: A Series of Short Stories

By Cam Rascoe

Restless FOR
RETRIBUTION
A series of short stories- Tales of Pine Hills


Featuring:

Peter, Pat and Paul

Geppetto
THE PUPPETEER Series

And



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Whispers in Wonderland

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Author/Creator
Cam Rascoe

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469125626

Cam Rascoe

Cam Rascoe, Author of the Hanna and Henry Horrowitz Series, Writings of Rascoe and The Perils of the Peoples of Pine Hills offers more insight into the Pine Hills experience through a series of excitingly poignant short stories. In depth and detailed is his expression in sharing the tales of the people of this storied community. Once again Mr. Rascoe takes hold of his readers utilizing dynamic characters in unique situations. Another fun smart read delivered by Cam Rascoe. “Restless for Retribution” documents four decades of Pine Hills life, sharing the triumphs and challenges of this diverse community. Peter, Pat and Paul proffers the buffoonery of three brothers through drug abuse while the Geppetto series illustrates how attempting to control others’ lives can eventually cause you to lose control of your own. Whispers in Wonderland sheds light on the abuse that goes uninvestigated in impoverished communities and to what lengths some will go to put an end to it. Restless for Retribution conveys how tragedy can be used to promote the healing of a hurting society in much need of it. “Restless for Retribution” offers masterful short stories with great purpose.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Cam Rascoe.

ISBN:                   Softcover                               978-1-4691-2561-9

                            Ebook                                    978-1-4691-2562-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

Peter, Pat And Paul

Peter, Pat And Paul

Epilogue

Geppetto:

The Puppeteer

1

2

Restless For

Retribution

1

2

3

Geppetto: 2

The Puppeteer’s Revenge

1

2

3

Whispers In

Wonderland

1

2

Geppetto: 3

The Puppeteer Pulls Strings No More

1

2

3

I believe in HIM therefore, I believe in me.

Cam Rascoe

Dedicated to the loving memory

Of my Great Grandmother Ella.

I’ll miss you always

Peter, Pat and Paul

This is the story of Peter, Pat and Paul; three brothers, one short, one medium, one tall. They all got a real rise from committing crimes, eventually causing their fall. Poor planning led to asinine adventures; now they’re incarcerated one and all. Pitiful pondering, self produced powerlessness and pure peril, plague the three, spring to fall. This is a tale lacking logic, loose lunacy and large laughter for all. In the youth we must encourage and educate to evoke excellence in their events and call. Let this be the last of the sorrowfully sad stories of shameless sullied siblings taking short cuts to glory only to stall. People I present to you the prose of Peter, Pat and Paul.

Peter, Pat and Paul

Yo Pete, you call Tommy yet!

Yea Paul, I called him.

What’d he say?

He didn’t answer!

Shit!

Paul paced his brother’s bedroom floor scratching his arm.

You’re gonna scratch blood out of your arm dumb ass.

Shut up Pete, where’s Pat at?

Pete stood up and looked up into his younger brother’s eyes.

You better watch your tone with me boy, I don’t think you’re ready for this.

Paul turned his back on his brother and walked over to the window. He mumbled fuck you as he gazed out still scratching. Just then their middle brother Pat opened the bedroom door with a smile on his face. Paul quickly turned around and questioned his brother.

Did you score?

Calm down dude and stop talking so loud. Yea I scored.

Then older shorter brother Pete chimed in.

Good, please give this kid a bump before he loses his damn mind.

Pat smiled then handed the small bag of white powder to his lanky younger brother. Paul wasted no time in diving in. Pete laughed at the severity of his brother’s addiction.

Take it easy man, it ain’t goin’ no where.

Paul sat back on the bed then passed the bag back to Pat. His eyes were now glassy and his body relaxed; Paul let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t gotten high since early in the morning and it was killing him. Pat passed the bag to Pete and then asked the time. Pete responded.

It’s 2:30pm and I’ve got everything we need. Ya’ll still ready?

His two younger brothers responded affirmatively in unison. Then Paul sat up as the initial wave of his high became less intense.

Hey, how much money we got left?

Pete reached into his top draw and pulled out several small bills.

It looks like we got about thirty-seven dollars. We need more money, this shit we got ain’t gonna last long.

Then Pat spoke up interrupting his brothers.

Hey when we make this score I wanna get some H too. I been hurtin’.

Pete sucked his teeth and then walked over to Pat looking up into his young tired face.

I told you to stop fuckin’ with that nigger Luscious and those junkies. It’s alright to do smack every now and then but you can’t be doing that shit everyday. It’ll fuck you up.

A nasty scowl covered Pat’s face.

Fuck you dude, I do whatever the fuck I want to and if I help to get the money, I’ll spend it however the fuck I want to.

Pat then snatched the bag from Paul as he handed it to him. Paul responded to his brother’s anger.

Don’t take it out on me man. Shit, I don’t give a fuck what you do.

Pete started back in on his younger brother.

Well you go ahead and be an asshole Pat. I was just tryin’ ta tell you somethin’ for you own damned good.

Pat inhaled the light dust and then responded.

Well thanks big brother, but I think I can’t take care of myself.

Fine be stupid, I’m done with it. Paul, you got some smokes?

Paul stood and dug a hard pack of Marlboros out the right front pocket of his Wranglers. He took one and then tossed the pack to his brother. They both lit up and inhaled deeply. Pat sat in the corner wishing he had his narcotic of choice; he took another bump to ease his cravings, it didn’t work. The three brothers then huddled up to discuss the criminal plan they were to put into motion in less than two hours. After finishing their drugs and a whole pack of cigarettes the boys were off to commit a crime that would support their habits for quite a while. This was far from the criminal mischief that they were normally involved with. This would be a fateful day in the lives of the three brothers; a lot would change for them and then some things wouldn’t change at all.

Peter, Pat and Paul piled into Pete’s ’78 Cordoba and rode towards down town. Pete let his brother Paul out on the corner of Pine and Orange and then sped up the block and parked.

Paul, get behind the wheel and watch for me to come out. Keep the car running and listen out for Paul’s whistle if the cops come. You got it?

Pat answered with an irritated look on his face.

Yea dude I got it, just hurry up.

Pete got out of the car and walked briskly into the bank. Unfortunately Paul was positioned too far away for his brother to hear his whistle if the police did arrive on the scene. Once inside the bank Pete walked over to a podium and wrote his demands on the back of a deposit slip. The slip read… Thiz iz a stick up!!! Give monie. Pete’s lack of education was evident in his writing. He never finished the sixth grade and had never so much as written an essay. He became jittery and paranoid as he stood in line awaiting the opportunity to speak to the teller. His paranoia was a byproduct of his drug abuse. He suddenly started to believe that the people in line behind him may have seen the message written on his deposit slip. Pete bolted from the line and out of the bank. Looking disoriented, he hurried across the street to the Wells Fargo with the note in hand.

What the hell is he doing?

Pat thought to himself as he watched his brother walk into the Wells Fargo. When Pete finally reached the teller window he presented the slip to the bank teller. The lady looked down at his note and let out a slight chuckle at the Pete’s poor grammar and handwriting. She then responded quickly to the aspiring bank robber.

Sir, I am terribly sorry but we can’t accept this deposit slip, you’ll need to take it across the street to the Bank of America. Is there anything else that I can’t help you with?

She asked Pete as she handed him back the slip. Pete looked dumbfounded as he took the note back and turned to walk back across the street to the Bank of America.

What the hell is he doing?

Pat again said to himself as he watched his inept older brother walking into the first bank once again. The crafty bank teller called the police and they were already in route before Pete reached the front of the bank line in the Bank of America Branch. As police cars barreled around the corner Paul began to whistle. He whistled and whistled but Pat hadn’t heard a note of it. After realizing that his brother couldn’t hear him, Paul turned and ran down the block in the direction of his neighborhood. Pat looked into his rearview mirror to see the police racing up the street towards him and his younger brother running in the opposite direction. Pat laid low in the in the driver’s seat and killed the engine as police converged on the scene. As they entered the bank, he quickly cranked up the car and crept down the street. He looked to his left into the bank to see his older brother’s short stocky frame being tackled to the ground and cuffs being placed on his wrists. Pat turned the corner and drove down two blocks to spot Paul running at top speed. He pulled up next to him.

Get in asshole!

Paul jumped into the front passenger seat and quickly asked of his brother’s fate, only to learn that he had been captured by the authorities.

Damn due, what the fuck are we going to do?

Paul asked of his big brother. Pat responded simply.

I don’t know what you’re gonna do but I’m going to take twenty of these thirty-seven dollars in Pete’s wallet and but myself a balloon.

Is that all you can think about right now is getting high? Our brother just got arrested.

Pat cut his eye at his brother and then answered sharply.

No matter if I get high or not, Pete is still going to be locked up so I’m gonna go get me a fix. You got a problem with that?!

Pat‘s eyes now held a sick look of excitement at the thought of getting his drug combined with hatred for anyone who tried to keep him from it. Paul sat quiet as Pat sped to his pusher’s house to get his fix.

Later that evening Mr. and Mrs. Romano received a call from their incarcerated son and immediately called a family meeting. Pete didn’t tell of his brothers’ involvement in the crime he’d committed. Pat and Paul pretended to be shocked at the news and genuinely concerned for their beloved brother’s well being. Father demanded that sons become employed and they readily agreed. Later the boys discussed where they would apply while consuming the last of their drugs.

Paul, I’m gonna go down and fill out an application at the Quick Mart.

Oh yea, I’m gonna talk to old man Fulton to see if he’ll give me a job at his body shop.

Pat plopped down in the chair at the desk across from his brother’s bed with a sly grin covering his face.

I’m gonna case the joint while I’m filling out the application.

Young Paul began to smile at his brother’s devious intentions.

You gonna try and rob the Quick Mart?

I ain’t gonna try and rob shit! I gonna rob the Quick Mart!

The brothers broke out in laughter.

You know what Pat, I’ll do you one better. I’m gonna rob Mc Getty’s after I talk to old man Fulton.

The boys laughed harder.

That’s what I’m talkin’ about little Pauly. We’ll both go at seven and meet back here.

The next day the two brothers met in the garage of their parent’s home after their interviews; unknown to Mother and Father Romano were their sons’ unlawful plans. Pat’s interview with the convenience store manager went well and he was told to expect a call back for a second interview. While in the store Pat checked for security cameras and routes of escape. Paul inquired and was turned down for employment by Mr. Fulton. Paul wasn’t terribly concerned because he had plans of making a big score later that night. The boys parted ways after brief conversation armed with 38 specials left to them by their uncles. The uncles who proclaimed to be Mafia gangsters had influenced the boys into lives of crime through their fictional exploits. The two men were currently imprisoned in upstate New York. In actuality they were just petty criminals who spent their days committing petty crimes with low level gangsters. The made man they proclaimed themselves to be couldn’t be further from the truth. In their nephews’ young unsophisticated minds their stories rang true. The boys entered each establishment three minutes apart. They used the same approach and method of convincing the cashier to surrender all currency, sticking the barrel of the gun in the face of their robbery victim. Minutes later they met back up at their parents’ loving home feeling triumphant and victorious. Pat and Paul boasted to one another about the night’s exploits.

Paul, when I put the pistol in that old bitch’s face, she almost shit a brick. She was like please, please don’t hurt me; here, here take the money. When I was leaving I could hear her praying out loud to Jesus, dumb old bitch.

The boys doubled over with laughter as Paul started in about his successful stick up.

You know that old fag David?

Yea, I know who you’re talking about.

Well he was behind the register when I burst through the doors. Pat you should have heard that sissy scream.

More laughter followed as Pat tried to imagine the middle aged gay man in a panic.

Oh please, please don’t harm me. We ain’t got no safe and all the money is here in the register.

Before I could even say this is a stick up, he had all of the money out of the register and into a brown bag for me. He pissed me off for being such a coward and a fagot so I reached across the counter, snatched him to me and slapped the shit out of him with my 38. Blood was pouring all down the side of his cock sucking face.

The boys could barely contain themselves as the leaned on their father’s work bench for support, their guffawing almost caused them loose their balance and fall down on the garage floor.

Paul what’d the fagot say when you hit ‘em.

He didn’t say shit; he just screamed real gay then passed out. He was like, oh!

Paul mocked poor David’s unmanly voice and effeminate mannerisms as he fell unconscious to the floor. The two brothers howled once more.

Paul, I’m going over to Tommy’s to get some coke, you wanna come?

Hell yeah, let’s go.

I just gotta make a stop by Luscious’ house first.

Pat needed his heroin fix and he really enjoyed speed balling. Paul didn’t like to do heroin too often because of how sick it made him, but tonight was a night of celebration.

Sure dude, I’ll ride with you to Luscious’ house. I wouldn’t mind a little H today myself.

The boys quickly exited the garage and jumped into the Cordoba. Neither Romano son was aware that their crimes hadn’t gone undetected; they each left behind major clues that would lead to their arrests. The old lady clerk at the Quick Mart recognized Pat’s footwear from when he filled out an application earlier in the day. He was wearing a mask and had changed his clothing but his ratty old boots gave him away. Later she gave a description to the police.

Officer, I always believed that you could judge a man by the type of shoes he’s got on his feet. When I saw that boy come in here earlier in the day with those nasty boots on, just a wipin’ at his nose every three seconds; I knew he was trouble. Then when he come back here and robbed me the first thing I noticed was them same dirty old boots. I told my manager George to stop interviewing and hiring these hoodlums. They ain’t nothing but trouble. It’s only by the grace of Jesus that fool boy didn’t do somethin’ to hurt me. Jesus saves honey, and he answers prayers too. I was prayin’ that boy don’t shoot and the Lord answered my prayer.

The detective quickly interrupted the elderly cashier when she began to speak freely about her faith, he being a man of none.

Well ma’am you can go over and give your full statement to Officer Freeman, oh and I’ll need that boy’s application also.

With that the detective turned and walked back to his car only to be called to the scene of another local convenience store robbery. In this robbery the cashier had been pistol whipped and was en route to the hospital to receive treatment for his injuries. At the scene of the robbery a peculiar thing was found, a wallet. The wallet contained a driver’s license but it was a fake. Prints were lifted from the wallet but they weren’t in the system. David was interviewed but couldn’t give an accurate description of the assailant because of the mask the man was wearing and the great level of stress David experienced at the time. The police would