by H. T. Night
It took me about half an hour to do the job. When I finished getting all the sheets, I headed to the attendance office. As I walked up to the building, I felt that the building looked smaller. Honestly! I realized that everything looked smaller now than when I was younger. Back then everything seemed to be huge. Getting older was strange.
When I walked up to the attendance office and opened the door, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. There she was just sitting there. Sarah Davis was sitting at a table with her father. Our eyes met. She seemed to recognize me. I completely forgot where I was, or why I was even in the office as I gazed into her eyes.
Why wasn’t she in class? Why was she so late? That wasn’t important. All that mattered was that she was sitting in the attendance office.
“Did you go to every single class, dear?” the secretary asked.
“Huh?” I said, coming back to reality.
“Did you go to every classroom?” she repeated.
“Oh yes. I sure did, ma’am.”
“Great, if you can hand me all the sheets, you can show Sarah where her class is. She is also in Mrs. Phyllis’s classroom.”
She didn’t have to tell me that. I knew that better than anyone in the entire school.
“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too excited. But I was thrilled. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was standing right in front of the girl that I had thought about all summer long.
I studied her features while her dad finished signing some papers. To me, she was perfect. She had a perfectly shaped head. She looked at me and smiled. Her eyes were greener than what I remembered. I smiled back. This was crazy. I didn’t even know this girl. Why did I like her so much?
She stood and kissed her dad on the cheek, then walked over toward me.
“Are you ready to go?” I said.
“Yes, I am,” she said softly.
Wow, we did it. We spoke to each other. Her voice was incredible. Very sweet, it sounded just like Mrs. Phyllis’ voice.
“Why was your dad filling out papers?” I asked. I totally did not know what to say, but this seemed like a good place to start.
“We moved. So he needed to change our address on papers and stuff,” she said, giving me a smile that about made me faint on the spot.
“Where did you move to?” I asked, trying to push the conversation forward.
“Closer to the school,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Where exactly do you live?” I hope I didn’t sound too pushy.
“In the housing track right in front of the school,” she said, laughing.
I laughed, too. I had no idea what we were laughing about, but it seemed to make things easier. Before I knew it, we were right in front of the classroom. I didn’t want to go in. I wanted to stay out in the hall and talk to her forever.
“This is it,” I said as I opened the door for her. She walked in and I followed. I went to my seat and she went to talk to Mrs. Phyllis.
“Where did you go?” my sister asked quietly.
“I’ll tell you later,” I whispered.
My mind was still on Sarah. She said she lived in the housing track in front of the school. I lived in the same housing track. Things could not get better. I wondered how close she lived to me. I watched her walk toward her marked desk and sit down. I was at a perfect angle to see her profile. With that view, the rest of the day seemed to go by pretty fast.
When school let out, I kept an eye out for Sarah so I could watch where she went, but her dad came and picked her up. Oh well, it was just the first day of school.
Timmy and Blayne came over to my house that evening and we played video games. They kept on complaining about already having homework.
All I could do was laugh at them. One day ago, I was down in the dumps and these two were on top of the world. How quickly things changed.
Maybe this school year wasn’t going to be bad after all. I decided that having Mrs. Phyllis as a teacher and having Sarah in my class was going to make it a great year.
Also available at your favorite ebookseller:
GETTING YOURS!
(a screenplay)
by
H.T. NIGHT
(read on for a sample)
A story told in the tradition of American Pie and Something About Mary.
FADE IN:
INT. PICK-UP TRUCK – NIGHT
CHAD WALKER, 20, clean-cut and all-American, is sitting alone in his beat-up 1982 Ford Courier truck, staring at a wilted, pitiful YELLOW ROSE. Chad looks to his right and shakes his head; sitting in the passenger seat is a giant stuffed rabbit.
EXT. PETE’S BISTRO PARKING LOT – NIGHT
Chad gets out of his truck and puts the yellow rose in his back pocket. He walks up to an all-night diner called Pete’s Bistro.
INT. PETE’S BISTRO – NIGHT
Chad walks over to his brother BRUCE, who’s sitting at a booth. Bruce, 23, is a slightly older version of Chad.
BRUCE
So what’s going on? You look like shit.
CHAD
Thanks man, I appreciate it. I need to talk.
BRUCE
What’s up?
An older, career waitress walks up.
WAITRESS
Boys ready to order?
CHAD
I’ll just have a Coke.
BRUCE
Basket of wings and a large shake.
Waitress leaves.
BRUCE (CONT’D)
Not hungry?
CHAD
I’m not in the mood to eat.
BRUCE
Oh, this should be good.
Chad pulls out a yellow rose from his back pocket, places it on the table.
BRUCE (CONT’D)
(referring to the yellow rose)
You shouldn’t have.
CHAD
It’s not for you.
BRUCE
You’re walking around with yellow
roses in your pocket? You haven’t
turned Nancy on me, have you?
CHAD
Not quite.
BRUCE
What’s the deal with the rose?
CHAD
That’s why I’m here.
BRUCE
You want to discuss floral arrangements?
CHAD
I need your advice about a girl.
Bruce sits up proudly.
BRUCE
Alright. Give it to me. But, make it
quick. I’m getting a rub and tug in a
half hour.
CHAD
Seriously? I’m sure Mings House of
Massage will be there tomorrow.
BRUCE
Fine, let’s hear your problem.
CHAD
Okay, I’ve been rehearsing this play
over at the college.
BRUCE
Another play? I thought you were
through with that?
CHAD
Eric wrote another script and asked
me to be in it.
BRUCE
You trust that asshole after the last one?
CHAD
What was wrong with the last one?
BRUCE
He had you play a Gay Nazi.
CHAD
It wasn’t that bad.
BRUCE
That falls in love with an 85 year old
transvestite?
CHAD
It wasn’t your typical love story.
BRUCE
You made out with an old man!
CHAD
It was in the script.
BRUCE
You’re supposed best friend wrote a
script that had you gumming an 85 year
drag queen for five minutes.
CHAD
It wasn’t five minutes.
BRUCE
It felt like five years.
(a beat)
You know mom still cries out in
her sleep.
I told her not to show up.
BRUCE
She brought her church group....
CHAD
I told her to stay at home.
ERIC
...and her bridge club.
CHAD
I told her that there might be questionable
things in the play.
BRUCE
Questionable? You DRY HUMPED an
old man in front of Sister Margaret.
EXT. THEATER AUDITORIUM – FLASHBACK – NIGHT
CUT TO:
Quick cut to Chad’s mother, Sister Margaret, her bridge club, and a group of nuns in an audience looking on in horror.
CUT TO:
Chad, on stage wearing a World War 2 Nazi uniform, dry humping an 85 year old Transvestite, wearing a ball gag, DOGGY STYLE.
INT. PETE’S BISTRO – PRESENT – NIGHT
BRUCE
Mom wasn’t the only one who had nightmares.
CHAD
May I continue?
BRUCE
Is this one normal?
CHAD
I wouldn’t say that.
BRUCE
What does Eric have you doing?
CHAD
I play a sex-addicted ventriloquist
who falls in love with his dummy
rabbit.
BRUCE
Now, you’re just messing with me, right?
CHAD
Nope.
BRUCE
Why do you do it man? (a beat) Are
there any love scenes with the rabbit?
CHAD
Just one.
BRUCE
They are going to have to take mom
out on a stretcher.
CHAD
She’s not coming!
BRUCE
She’ll get excommunicated.
CHAD
(continuing)
Okay...there is this really hot woman in the play.
BRUCE
What’s the problem?
CHAD
She is a bit older.
BRUCE
(skeptical)
How much older?
CHAD
She plays my mom in the show.
BRUCE
Your mom? What is she? Fifty?
CHAD
She’s thirty-four.
BRUCE
So she had you when she was fifteen?
Nice.
CHAD
Her character is forty-eight.
BRUCE
So she looks old?
CHAD
She’s hotter than any of those two
a.m. skanks you meet at the club.
BRUCE
Maybe I should just hit up the local
convalescent home for a date like you.
CHAD
She’s not that old.
BRUCE
Better yet, I’ll TiVO Golden Girls tonight.
BRUCE gestures WHACKING OFF.
CHAD
...why don’t you just continue to drop
hundred dollar bills on that Cambodian
refugee at Ming’s House of Massage.
BRUCE
Hey, Shamnang has had a hard life.
CHAD
I bet she has.
BRUCE
Okay. You have the hots for a
forty-eight year old. Go on.
CHAD
She’s thirty-four!
BRUCE
Thirty-four. Got it.
CHAD
Alright. Even though Eric wrote the
Play, I had to formally audition....
Also available at your favorite ebookseller:
CADES COVE
Cades Cove Series #1
by
Aiden James
(read on for an excerpt)
Chapter One
“Yep…I believe this must be it!” David Hobbs motioned for Miriam, his wife, to join him on a rock ledge overlooking a secluded ravine, roughly a mile’s hike from John Oliver’s famous homestead in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. He smiled, impish, like a kid with a dirty secret.
It’s here…right where Ned said it would be!
“Are you sure?” Miriam panted as she caught up to him. Her irritated tone clearly announced her desire to end this unexpected adventure off the beaten path.
“Will you just look at this place!” he enthused, trying to ignore her perturbed glare. “Welcome to the Smokies’ oldest ‘Lovers Lane’, darlin’!”
He tipped the bill of his Rockies ball cap toward the view before them. A lush carpet of grass covered the ravine, and colorful wildflowers nestled in the shade from tall eastern pines and hardwoods.
She glanced down into the ravine and smirked.
“I guess it’s nice,” she said, lacking any enthusiasm. “The horseback ride we planned last night would’ve been better.” She removed her backpack and let it fall to the ground before sitting down on a large rock nearby. Her agitated sky-blue eyes peered at him through long dark hair while she massaged her tired legs and ankles.
“I thought you wanted ‘romantic’,” David retorted, smiling, though finding it harder to hide his own growing irritation. He had carefully maneuvered their venture to this remote destination, hoping for a new way to sweep her off her feet. “How much more romantic can it get than being here, in this beautiful place and on a day like this?”
The weather perfect for October, the temperature hovered in the mid-sixties with a clear sky above. He winked at her and this time she giggled.
“You see? There’s my girl!” Still carrying his backpack, he moved over to hers and picked it up, motioning for her to follow him. His knees suddenly weak, it reminded him of when they first dated back in college. “Let’s have a look around.”
He stepped down from the ledge into heavy brush, wading toward the heart of the ravine. From the looks of things, no one had been here in quite awhile. A feeling of serenity surrounded him. Immersed in waist-high grass and thistles, he tried not to think about what might be slithering along the ground near his feet.
“Aren’t you afraid of being bitten by a snake or something?” Miriam called after him. “The park ranger back at the Cable Mill said water moccasins and copperheads are out here!”
David ignored her and muttered a quiet prayer that the snakes had already gone into hibernation. Meanwhile, Miriam’s hushed curses echoed lightly across the ravine as she scurried along the path he’d created.
“Now isn’t this something?” he asked, once she caught up to him.
Thick wildflowers in abundance, his hunch about the snakes seemed correct so far. Relieved, he thought this out-of-the-way locale mentioned by his boss, Ned Badgett, might be worth the trouble after all.
Majestic oaks, chestnuts, and maples grew along both embankments, and the rutted earth beneath their feet hinted that a stream once coursed through here. The leaves had begun their seasonal change, offering a brilliant sea of red and orange amid towering evergreens. Wild roses, geraniums, and orange jewelweed added even more splendor.
“Yes it is,” she conceded, grinning while she looked around.
David wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His trimmed blond beard brushed against her cheek as she reached up and kissed him.
“Sorry I was a bitch.”
“It’s all right, baby.” His hazel eyes twinkled, mischievous. “I’ll let you make it up to me after lunch!”
“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that!”
She playfully jabbed him in the side and he feigned an injury before moving across the ravine to a large oak, where he set the backpacks down.