Authors: Roger Barry
Running on Empty
Roger Barry
Copyright © 2013 by Roger Barry
Cover Photo: Copyright © 2013 Roger Barry
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 author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For Sorcha & Aoibheann
Chapter 2 - The Three Little Pigs
Chapter 4 - The story Of My Life
Chapter 5 - The Loft Apartment
Chapter 6 - Fondation d’Auteuil
Chapter 9 - Somewhere North of Boston
Chapter 17 - A Thousand Welcomes
Chapter
19 - Back at Square One
Chapter 21 - A Friend of a Friend
Chapter 24 - Falling Down a Rabbit Hole
Chapter 25 - Richie Works His Magic
Chapter 27 - The Bear and the Conger
Chapter 32 - You young enough to be breathing?
Dawes Regional Airport, Chadron, Nebraska
A light blanket of snow covers the fields surrounding Dawes two room airport terminal as a twin prop Great Lakes Aircraft taxies to a halt. The heavy set blond receptionist leaves her position behind the counter and begins assisting with unloading the luggage. A dozen or so passengers who had disembarked stand waiting patiently.
Most wear the attire in keeping with the location.
Farmers and farmer’s wives, rural folk.
One however, stands out in this small gathering. He’s wearing a sharply-cut dark grey business suit, in stark contrast to the plaid shirts and corduroy dresses surrounding him. Picking up one medium sized suitcase, he passes through a swinging door leading to the small gravel car park situated at the front of the building, his collar turned against the biting November wind. He climbs into the back of a black Jeep Cherokee, and lights a cigarette. The jeep takes a right out of the car park heading south-west.
‘Well, did ya have a good trip?’
‘Huh? Oh yeah’ he grunts.
‘What was Shanghai like?’
‘It was very far away, y’know, with a lot of travelling involved, very tiring. This is a polite way of me telling you to shut the fuck up with your small talk and just drive, ok?’
The remainder of the twenty-one miles to Crawford are navigated in silence. On the outskirts of town, next to an abandoned garage, they turn off the road onto a single lane asphalt, its disused pumps acting as silent sentries. The Jeep comes to a stop outside a small two storey building close to the base of Red Cloud Butte. ‘Crawford Import & Distribution Ltd’, a plastic sign reads.
He carries the case up a flight of stairs, into a small sparse office. Seated at a desk is a stocky, balding man in his late forties. Behind him, pinned to the wall, is a large, detailed map of the western states, with various routes emanating from Crawford in red marker, like a crimson spiders web. On seeing the suitcase he leans back and folds his hands behind his head, his tight mouth fighting the urge to break into a broad grin. Outside, flakes of snow can be seen fluttering by the window, swirling one way, then another, dancing in the breeze. The traveller eases slowly into a black, leather swivel chair, as the case is removed by a man in white overalls, who avoids eye contact with either of them. When he has left, the man behind the desk stands up, lights a cigarette, and begins walking the room.
‘Everything go ok?’ he asks.
‘Like fucking clockwork’
*****
She arches her back, emitting a loud grunt followed by a low, drawn out groan, before rolling off him and onto the bed, her bare breasts covered in fine droplets of perspiration.
‘That was gooood’ she whispers in a low monotone.
‘Yeah’ he answers flatly.
Good?
He thinks silently.
Don’t know about good. A bit too many farmyard sounds for my liking.
He was expecting his neighbors to come pounding on the door at any minute, informing him bluntly that this is an apartment block, and the keeping of livestock is most certainly not allowed.
Next time I think I’ll have to gag her
.
Then again, she might suggest that next time anyway
, he mused. Rachel seemed to be up for anything, anything he came up with, at any rate. Also, she was discreet.
Discretion is nine tenths of the law, the law of carnal knowledge, that is
.
Especially when you both work in the same building.
She had more reason to keep their little meetings quiet than he had, obviously. Well, he wasn’t the one who was married, was he? He had no reason to feel guilty? Well, he had, a bit.
He wasn’t married, but he did have a steady girlfriend, of sorts. Christine mightn’t take too kindly to his little fling, should word get out. The fleeting image of him being stabbed in the eye with a fork, or getting his manhood hacked off with a carving knife, as he slept soundly beside her, flashed before him. His hand moved subconsciously, covering his genitals, while he mulled this over. Yes, best to keep these little clandestine meetings under wraps.
Rachel stands up, and, still naked, ambles slowly towards the kitchen.
‘Got anything nice to eat?’ she asks, as she peers into the fridge.
‘Oh look, strawberries. Remember the fun we had with strawberries last time?’ she says playfully.
Oh, fuck. He’d forgotten about the strawberries
.
*****
‘Mr Charlie Bear ran through the forest, carrying a cloth sack full of honeycombs over his broad shoulders. All the other animals of the forest were in hot pursuit. He spotted a large…’
‘Mark, a phone call for you, he says it’s urgent’. His wife is standing in the doorway of the bedroom.
‘Ok’
He places the storybook down on the bed.
‘I’ll be back in a minute honey, and we’ll finish the story, ok?’
He walks to his bedroom, and picks up the receiver.
‘Hello?
’Hi, it’s me boss’
‘I thought I told you before, not to call me at home’
‘I know boss, but we have a problem. That slant eyed fucker, Li, has been on to me. He’s over here on some sort of trade mission gathering. He’s being awkward about our little agreement. He says he’s grateful for the funding you organised for him, setting him up and all that. But he doesn’t want to be part of what we have organised. He’s a family man, he says, and he wouldn’t feel right about being a party to our forthcoming plans. Personally, I think the family angle’s just bullshit. I think it’s dawned on him that he faces a firing squad if he’s caught. I think he’s running scared’.
Fielding’s eyes narrow behind his rimless spectacles.
‘I see. That is a problem, especially as everything else is in place, and we’ve commenced our operation. I think we’ll have to have a meeting with Li, and sort out our little differences. Arrange it’.
‘Ok boss, will do’.
Click.
‘Now, where were we? Ah yes.
He spotted a large oak tree at the edge of the forest, its branches overhanging a deep valley. Mr Charlie Bear began climbing up the tree, up and up he went, with the sack of honey over his shoulder. The other animals of the forest all gathered at the base of the tree. Some of them just wanted their share of the honey, but some of them wanted to punish Mr Charlie Bear for being so greedy. There was another tree on the far side of the valley, its branches almost touching the tree he was in. He knew he could jump across to those other branches, if he left the sack of honey behind. But he didn’t want to leave it behind, because he thought of how hard he had worked in stealing the honey. He thought he could jump across, with the sack on his back. He jumped. He caught hold of the branch with his giant bear claw. He was safe, he thought. But the weight of the honey was too much, his bear claw lost its grip, and he tumbled down and down and down into the deep dark valley, never to be seen again’.
‘Why did Mr Charlie Bear have to die, Daddy?’
‘Because he was a bad bear, and bad things happen to bad bears, and bad people’.