Words In The Wind

By Jeff Brown

A story is like a song. A song tells a story. Sometimes, the song inspires a somewhat different story. This collection contains twenty-one stories ranging in genre from the supernatural and horror to science fiction and fantasy. These were all loosely inspired by the music of some favorite artists and some nostalgic tunes. The titles are close, but they aren't connected to the songs or the artists. It's just sort of my written tribute to the songs that made a difference in my life. These artists include: Kansas, Rush, Night Ranger, Honeymoon Suite, the Doobie Brothers, Def Leppard, Heart, Pete Townshend, Pat Metheny, Supertramp, The Knack, Yes, Paul Simon, and the Electric Light Orchestra.  There are some repititions, but those artists keep repeating in my life. All I can do is share what they mean to me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Brown
• Release date: Jun 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223897361

Jeff Brown

Jeff Brown created the beloved character of Flat Stanley as a bedtime story for his sons. He has written other outrageous books about the Lambchop family, including Flat Stanley, Stanley and the Magic Lamp, Invisible Stanley, Stanley’s Christmas Adventure, Stanley in Space, and Stanley, Flat Again! You can learn more about Jeff Brown and Flat Stanley at www.flatstanleybooks.com.

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WORDS IN THE WIND

A Collection

By

Jeff Brown

DEDICATION

This collection of short stories is dedicated to the best buddy I ever had, my Chihuahua Edgar. He was only with me for a little over six years, but he became more important to me than I ever would’ve imagined. He passed away just before I finished the last couple of stories and it hasn’t been the same. It’s been a few months now, but it’s just not the same. So, this book is for Edgar.

SPECIAL THANKS

This collection would not exist and would no be published without the assistance of one particular person, my editor, muse, and source of motivation. Thank you, Karen Bates for all that you do.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

As always, there are a number of people that show a great deal of support and more than a little inspiration. This is for them, this large group of people that keep the ideas flowing.

DeAnna Allen, Jay Allen, Kevin Barr, Jo Renee Bass, Karen Bates, Suraya Birkhoff, Lisa Bishop, Eldon Blalock, Sandy Bloodworth, Penny Boyd, Ramona Burrow, Logan Campbell, Yvonne Church, Allen Coleman, Faith Cooper, Samantha Cummings, Paul Dancsisin, Ken Deal, Georgia Fleming, Dee Freeman, Michael Graves, Lynn B. Greene, Ray Hamilton, Jerry Henderson, Monique Hibbs, Dorothy Howell, Melissa Jackson, Jody Johnson, Angela Jones, Jobina Khoo, Dana King, Terry Koopman, Sharon Laird, Cleve Langston, Mary Larsen, Hal Maranto, Jason Marsalis, Steve Mercier, Jeremy Middleton, Jennifer Miller, Brittany Ollie, Carol Price, Myra Reeves, Jodie Regan, Jackie Robbins, Donna Rochel, Tim Rochel, Jacob Rosenthal, Braxton Rushing, Melinda Slemaker, Susan Solomon, Bonnie Stewart, Cheri Stringer, Jimmy Turner, Polly Varnado, Steve Vowell, Rebecca Wallace, Chris Waller, Anthony Washington, Stacey Wilkinson, Sydney Woodson

THE LONG WAY HOME

The moon was full and the light was enough to see clearly along the deserted highway as Myles Davison walked slowly along its edge with a large backpack slung over his right shoulder. His long hair, as black as the night, hung past his shoulders in loose, unkempt curls to frame his lean, narrow face, but the moon being a bit behind him cast it partially into shadow. He wore only what he’d had on all day, faded jeans with fraying hems and light rips at the knees, from long use and not a fashion statement, and a black-sleeved jersey from a concert he’d attended more than a year earlier, a heavy metal band he’d been introduced to by friends in high school almost three years earlier. He was twenty-one and of legal age to be on his own, but it hadn’t been part of his plan.

He’d been a college student for two years, earning an associate’s degree in history, but it wasn’t good enough for his parents. They’d always wanted him to be a doctor, but his grades in high school hadn’t been close to high enough for him to even consider attempting a pre-med curriculum, but his parents wouldn’t accept it. With the beginnings of a full degree in history, they’d begun talking about law school. He didn’t want to be a lawyer, considered them to be the lowest level of humanity. Instead, he wanted to research, write papers, discover the secrets of the world. They couldn’t understand that and the quiet discussion escalated to a standard argument and finally to a full-blown shouting match. In the end, Myles decided he would be better of in any other environment. He had no idea what he was going to do with the rest of his life, but he knew it wouldn’t be spent living under his parents’ roof. He was on his own, homeless and almost broke, but he would figure it out.

He had no destination in mind, just a general direction. He would figure it out before long and if not, he would do his best to survive long enough for the big break he felt was waiting for him just around the corner, one his parents wouldn’t understand and would never allow him to accept if he’d remained with them.

Speculating as to what life would be like with them any longer, the way they tried to dictate every move of his life, brought a feeling of anger to his mind and his dark eyes narrowed with it until he took a deep breath and let it out, taking the anger with it as he focused his mind on the fact that he was no longer living in their home nor under their control. The anger vanished quickly and he smiled lightly, feeling better about his decision than he had since the moment he’d stepped out the front door, telling his parents he wouldn’t be back.

The path he’d chosen was one he doubted his parents would think to check. Of course, he doubted they would try to follow him at all, at least not that night. They’d figure he would start walking and return home before morning, but he was determined to just keep going and not ever look back. He felt something inside him, a resolve like steel, pushing him forward, away from his past and into the future. He had no idea what that future might be, but he was headed there and would definitely not live in the past.

He’d already walked more than two hours and was well beyond the borders of the small Mississippi town he felt had held him hostage for just over two decades. He was finally free of the prison and was on his way to explore what life and the world had to offer.

Though he’d been up since shortly after sunrise and had been through a tiring experience with his parents, he felt surprisingly good and energetic. He was also driven to put as much space between him and his parents as possible before they considered looking for him, hopefully losing himself along the way.

He walked quickly, thankful for the surprisingly bright moonlight and for the open spaces lining the two-lane highway, giving him a clear field of vision should any trouble come his way. The road was so far away from any center if civilization, and he hadn’t passed a building or house of any kind in more than an hour, though he expected one to appear, most likely set back off the road, dark and silent, at any time as he worked his way along the frequently curving band of asphalt.

He also hadn’t seen another person in roughly the same amount of time. His journey seemed to be accompanied only by the sounds of nature, mostly insects and birds in the trees well off the road. It was peaceful and somewhat comforting, making him feel at ease as his feet continued forward one step at a time. He didn’t rush, not feeling the anxiety of potential pursuit, and just let the night become almost a part of him as he tried to become a part of it.

He continued forward and rounded a sharp curve to the left, still expecting to see a house or some sort of building, dark and silent, almost foreboding. Instead, he saw another person walking slowly along the edge of the road heading away from him.

His pace slowed a bit and a frown creased his features slightly as he began to question whether or not to approach this person. He wasn’t exactly lonely or in need of companionship or conversation. He couldn’t identify the person, but he could tell by the body’s motion, the sway of hips, and long, hair falling almost halfway down the back, that he was looking at a woman. She moved slowly and seemingly without purpose, much the way he was traveling. Still, she was a stranger and he began to think about all those horror stories he’d read about in newspapers, magazines, and the occasional online article about people waiting for unsuspecting travelers to ambush them, but he’d never believed many of those stories.

Still, he kept his distance, slowing his pace. It was a little frustrating, but he felt it was necessary to remain as safe as he could be. He tried to control his breathing and the way his feet, clad in his old tennis shoes, struck the ground, trying to remain quiet and unnoticed. His eyes didn’t stray from her black-clad backside, wanting to make sure she stayed in front of him and didn’t slow down.

After several long moments, as he struggled to keep his breathing light and shallow, she turned her head, looking over her shoulder, and said, It’s okay. You can come up here. I could use a little company.

Knowing he’d been spotted, he frowned, wondering if he should join her. From what he was able to see, she looked pretty good and didn’t appear to be any older than he was, but he was reluctant to simply trust someone on the road. He couldn’t help thinking about those old movies about runaways and life on the road. It always helped the main character in those stories, the one running away, to have help and someone to talk to. He finally shrugged and picked up the pace, falling in step beside her a moment later.

I’m Charla, she said. Charla Doran. What’s your name?

Myles Davison, he said, his voice weak and thin.

How long have you been on the road? she asked, continuing to look at him.

He shrugged, A couple of hours, I guess.

She chuckled lightly and said, I’ve been on the road for years. It’s not so bad.

He nodded slowly, I guess. It seems pretty good to me, so far.

She smiled, a beautiful smile stretching her full lips and narrowing her light eyes, the color indistinguishable in the gray light of the moon.

It can be really good, she said. You just need someone to show you the ropes and get your ready for the few bad times.

Bad times? he asked. What sort of bad times?

Her smile faded and she shrugged, You end up meeting some bad people that only want to take what you have. Sometimes they just want your life.

Really? he asked, sounding shocked. I’ve heard about those things, but I never really believed it was that bad.

It can be, she nodded, continuing to look at him. That’s why you need someone with you, a partner, someone to watch your back.

He nodded slowly and fell silent, thinking about what she’d said. He wondered, if she was being completely honest and open, if she was suggesting he join her in that way.

But you’re alone, he finally said.

Yeah, she nodded. But not for long. I have a plan.

What sort of plan? he asked.

She grinned and he finally saw her teeth, brilliantly white gleaming in the moonlight, but there was something a little odd about them. He couldn’t quite place it as she quickly pressed her lips together.

She remained silent for a moment, staring at him as if contemplating what she should do, then moved quickly in front of him, facing him, and stopped. The sudden move, faster than he’d expected from a slim girl like her, caused him to stop abruptly and his eyes to open wide.

What’s going on? he finally stammered.

Like I said, she shrugged. We all need a companion on the road. I’ve been watching you, Myles, and I think you might be just what I need.

He shook his head slowly, But we don’t know each other.

True, she nodded, her hands hanging loosely at her sides. But we’ll get to know each other very well. We have all the time in the world and we’ll spend it together, if you learn how to handle yourself.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing, What do you mean?

I’ll teach you, she said. But first we need to fix you, make you what you need to be if you’re going to be my companion.

Okay, he shrugged. How are you going to fix me?

She smiled at him for a second, her head tilting slightly forward at first and her eyes narrowed as her expression changed, seeming somewhat sinister to Myles.

After a couple of seconds, she raised her head and grinned broadly, exposing her teeth once again and revealing the long curving fangs extending from her canine teeth.

Before Myles could react, not even to let out a gasp of surprise, she shot forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, her surprising strength driving him roughly to the ground, his head bouncing painfully on the asphalt. She climbed atop him, pinning him down, as his face tightened with the pain. Her hands grasped his shoulders and held him firmly. Then she leaned closer and whispered, This won’t take long.

Her head plunged forward and those fangs pierced the skin of his neck. He let out a single yelp of the pain that felt like twin injections he’d previously received in the arm years earlier. This time, the pain subsided and he began to feel warm and comfortable.

After a few moments, his eyes closed and he knew no more.

Until he woke up the next night with a hunger he couldn’t explain, but Charla was there with him and he felt ready to take on the world.

TEST FOR ECHO

Boarding a hyper-liner was nothing new for Johna Brooks. She’d made such journeys at least a hundred times, all for business purposes. Her job, as an arbitrator, was to travel to other worlds in the Terran Alliance to negotiate some sort of treaty or contract. It was never anything of major concern when she was sent on the journey without her team, as was the case the day she boarded the ship known as Tempus. It was a smaller ship, holding only thirty passengers along with the crew necessary to make the flight possible, but she’d been on smaller and older ships as well as more massive ships, pleasure ships, and had never experience any issues with either the ship or the people aboard. In the case of the larger ships, when taking longer journeys, she would typically settle into her assigned cabin and read for the duration of the voyage.

Her journey wouldn’t take that long, just a few hours, and the Tempus was perfectly suited for it.

As she entered the main fuselage, she was slightly let down to see it was arranged much like one of the ancient airliners used for more than a century before space travel, and interstellar travel, became available and feasible. A central aisle was bordered by rows of twin seats and only a few of them were occupied. Her destination, a world named Phaelos, was not yet a typical tourist destination, since it wasn’t yet a full member of the Alliance, and there weren’t many reasons for others to go there. For her, it was a destination. For the others aboard, and the crew, it was simple a port of call, most likely to deposit some cargo, maybe pick some up, and replenish supplies. She didn’t know for sure, but she was ready to get it over with.

Once she stepped through the hatch, she was greeted by the ship’s only flight attendant, a woman in a bright blue jumpsuit with long, flaming red hair, and an easy smile. A badge sealed in a transparent pocket just above her left breast gave her name as Flora Garmon and the small insignia spaced across the bottom of the badge indicated that Flora had been with the company, Sol System Transport, for nine years. Seeing that gave Johna a little more confidence in the service aboard the ship. It might not be perfect, but it would at least be agreeable.

As Johna approached her, Flora held up a small device, print scanner, and Johna held out her right index finger, a routine operation for interstellar travel. Flora positioned the device parallel to the padded floor and Johna placed her finger on the small screen. The gray screen flashed green and Flora nodded as she pulled the device away from her finger. She looked at the screen then nodded and smiled.

"Welcome aboard the Tempus, Ms. Brooks, she said enthusiastically. You’re assigned to row six, seat four. You’re beside the viewport."

Excellent, Johna nodded. Thank you.

She then moved past the entryway into the main fuselage, walking quickly along the aisle with a small, black case in her left hand. The case held everything she would need for the trip and for the negotiations. She hadn’t been given much information concerning the situation, but it supposedly included everything she would need to know and it was her responsibility to study it during the flight.

She found her seat and sat down, leaning back as the seat adjusted to her shape and mass, making it both comfortable and safe. After so many times aboard such vessels, the adjustment was barely noticeable to Johna.

Once settled in, she placed the case in her lap, opened it, and looked through the contents. In addition to her few personal items, the case contained the data tablet she’d been issued with digital files of everything she would need to know. According to the schedule she’d been given, the crossing would last a little over three hours, plenty of time for her to study the information and be prepared for the meeting once she reached her destination. With her experience in such situations, she felt confident of success. The idea of bringing another world into the Alliance, building the strength of both the world and the body as a while, made her feel just a little superior to some others in her line of work. Should the negotiations prove successful, which she believed they would, it would be the tenth world she’d finalized the processes of adding to the number of member worlds. No other active negotiator had yet reached the double digit mark in successful negotiations. The closest was six and the record was seventeen, but that had been during the initial phases of building the Alliance. She doubted she would ever reach that mark, but she wasn’t going to give up trying.

As she pulled the tablet from the case and turned it on, others began entering the vehicle and taking their seats. Johan paid little attention to them, glancing up only as the ship’s crew entered and made their way along the central aisle to the control center at the front of the cabin. The first to enter was a woman of medium height dressed in the requisite pressure suit, a light blue one, minus the helmet and oxygen supply, identifying her as the ship’s pilot. Like Johna, the woman had her long, chestnut brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, tucked into the metal ring just below her chin for securing the helmet. She walked quickly along the aisle and didn’t look around, focused on the pressure hatch ahead of her. A moment later, the other two members of the crew entered, both dressed in pressure suits as well, but theirs were gray rather than pilot’s blue. Johna wasn’t initially sure which was which, but the one carrying the heavy case, a tall man with short, dark hair appeared to be the engineer while the other, just a bit shorter with even shorter, soft brown hair, had to be the systems operator.

Johna only glanced at them, but she did want to know more about the crew flying the ship. Placing the tablet on the seat beside her, a vacant seat according to the reservation system she’d checked before boarding, and pulled her own interface tablet from the case. Once it was active, she performed a search and found out the names of the crew. The pilot was Marla Bryson, the engineer was Rob Jackson, and the systems operator was Charles Wiltshire. A brief review of their service records, thanks to the access granted to her with her security clearance, she felt more comfortable with them at the controls.

As the other passengers began filtering in and taking their seats, Johna returned her focus to the tablet and perusing the information. She liked to scan through it first, getting a basic idea, before delving into it deeply and figuring out all the little details. With her attention solely on the tablet, she didn’t notice the man taking a seat across the aisle from her. He was a tall man, just over six feet, with broad shoulders and short, gray hair giving an almost helmet-like appearance to his head, though his broad face held a few sharp angles, softened with age, and piercing blue eyes that only glanced at her as he sat down.

Once he was settled in the seat, he looked at her and said, I assume you’re not going to Androva with me, Ms. Brooks.

Startled by the mention of her name, Johna twitched and looked up, turning her head to look for the source of the voice. When she saw him, Lawson Payne, one of the chief negotiators of the Alliance, her jaw dropped and she shook her head slowly.

No, she replied. If that’s where you’re headed, the arbitration is over and you’re just finalizing details.

Correct, he said and nodded slowly. So, where are you going?

Phaelos, she replied with a nod of her own. We’re just getting started there.

I see, he replied. I’ve heard they’ve been quite difficult. I hope you can make some headway with them.

So do I, she said and took in a deep breath. And I’d better get ready.

Right, Payne nodded and looked away.

Johna returned her attention to the tablet and began her studies.

In the control center, Marla Bryson settled into the pilot’s station, front and center. It was a little lower than the deck, intended to give her better control and a more centered feeling. The older ship still held that feature while more recent models and the larger ships had returned to a level flight deck, but those ships required larger flight crews. Her first assignment as pilot had been aboard a ship of the same model as the Tempus, but she’d been under the command of another officer. Now, with changes in the organizational structure, she was both commander and pilot.

Once she’d activated her console and strapped herself into the slightly reclined seat, she looked back the best she could and said, All right, people. Let’s get this bird ready to fly.

Roger that, Charles Wiltshire, seated behind her on the right, replied as he worked both quickly and methodically at his massive console. Bringing systems online and connected with the new transit system.

Marla nodded and said, Keep at it. I don’t know how this thing’s going to work.

She was always leery of upgrades, especially to ships as old as the Tempus, and this new flight engine, one supposedly capable of creating a hyperspace conduit rather than a faster than light engine, would make the trip shorter and easier, but she didn’t like it. The idea of it took a great deal of control out of her hands and she liked being able to control every aspect of it during flight.

Rob Jackson, opposite Wiltshire behind Marla’s left shoulder, worked at his console as well and said, I have it online and the diagnostic has completed its cycle. All components showing green.

Marla shrugged and looked forward, Then I guess we’re about ready. Fire up the standard engines.

Already in progress, Jackson replied. Full power in three minutes.

Good, Marla said. Navigation is set and locked in. I guess it’s time to seal up.

Roger that, Wiltshire said again and reached for the helmet attached to the bulkhead on his right.

In less than a minute, all three were sealed into their pressure suits and connected to their own air supplies.

All systems ready, Wiltshire said and looked forward, his eyes cast downward toward Marla.

All right, she said and nodded, though it wasn’t a visible movement to the others with the helmet in place. I guess it’s time to get this thing moving and that means I have to alert the passengers.

Moving carefully with her gloved right hand, Marla reached to the small console beside her and tapped the control to connect her suit’s communication system to the ship’s public address system.

Once it was activated, she sat back and said, "Ladies and gentleman, this is ship’s commander Marla Bryson. Welcome aboard the Tempus. We’ll be launching momentarily, so I suggest you settle into your seats and activate the individual inertial dampeners with the controls located on the armrest to your right. There shouldn’t be any problems, but it is a flight regulation and we have to follow protocol. Our first stop is Phaelos and our flight time to that destination will be roughly three hours. We’ll remain there