Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt kick. I am now done with the paranormal story and in the midst of editing it. I decided to share a little short story with the word prompt.

Check out the other tales here.

The People Watcher

A young man with a blade runner leg on his right side, a pretty girl with vivid blue hair and a pair of red kicks passed by the bench where I sat in the middle of the town square. There’s also another girl strolling with them. She wears tight short-shorts and is slightly heavier than the blue-haired one. I’m a people watcher and most days, I take refuge under the big oak tree that gives the best shade.

I like to imagine the lives of those who pass by. These three I see as a boyfriend and girlfriend with the heavier girl as the best friend of the blue-haired girlfriend of Blade Man. I have memories of being the pretty girl with the best friend who always seemed to fade into the background and I’m ashamed now to recall how I never realized how the third-wheel girl felt.

Imagine always being number two. I know how that feels now. Having gained some years and also weight, I see what I didn’t see when I was the toast of the town. Older, heavier people aren’t treated kindly by our society. This is why I’ve become a recluse who lives her life vicariously by watching others. Being ignored in stores and on the street is demoralizing.

For a moment, I’m tempted to take Third Wheel aside and advise her to get out of the shadow of Blue Hair while she’s still young enough to impact the world herself. But then I think about how she might react to my words. Probably ignore me or give me a sneer like I don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

The moment passes, they move on and I direct my attention to the group of four people on the grass lolling around as if they’re an art installation. The guy with the long dreads is on his stomach, a girl with a plaid shirt and not much else on is on her side with one knee up and another girl lying on her back has a book in her hand she’s just holding up in the air. The last young man has his body draped around the vignette like a capital C. They intrigue me.

Before I can come up with their “story,” an unexpected shower arises. Rain pours on the grass, quickly making mud puddles. The art installation moment is ruined as the four characters flee for the awning of one of the stores across from the square.

As for me? I’ll keep sitting here with my face raised to capture the cool drops from heaven. Getting soaked is no big deal. It makes me feel alive. Which is something new for me. 

this week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt, icy. I am still sharing from my paranormal story.

Check out the other tales here.

Instead of going back to bed, Lu paced her bedroom. Livid and ready to punch something. The nerve. The actual nerve of the man. Lord.

Even though she was tired and still drowsy, she decided to dress and walk down to the Barkley house and look across the bay to see if she could spy that pirate ship again. She didn’t want to be home if Malcolm decided to come visit in person to berate her some more. What an awful way to start the day. Mad and stunned at his behavior, her hands shook as she tugged on some jeans and a thick Irish sweater. 

She hooked Aneto to his leash and grabbed her cross-body bag and shoved some money and her ID in it so she could grab breakfast while she was out.

When she opened the back door, a gust of icy wind hit her in the face. “The temperature dropped, Aneto. I guess it’ll keep us both alert.”

Glad for the warmth of her sweater, she walked briskly toward the end of the street, scouring the area for signs of the ship or even George Barkley. If he was out and about, maybe some of the fear in the spirit world had dissipated. After all, there hadn’t been any new crimes that mimicked old deaths in the last day or so. The General would’ve told her even if Malcolm wouldn’t have.

Shoving an errant tear off her cheek, she deliberately pushed away any thought of Malcolm and that phone call.

No sign of George as she passed his house. No sign of the pirate ship either. Maybe I just imagined it. Or it was some weird sun shimmer off the water.

“Come on, Aneto, let’s take a walk down Main Street and see if there’s a place at the Ruby Slipper for breakfast. It’s early and I’m thinking the outside tables won’t be occupied since it’s so cold—if they’re even set up, that is. If not, we’ll get something at the Bodacious Cafe and eat it on the run.”

The wind was piercing and no one was out except her and her dog. They moved quickly and were soon close to the Pensacola Little Theater. Lu glanced up as she always did to see if she could see their resident spirit. Nope. Not there.

She found she was missing seeing the town filled with both the living and dead. How did I get so used to seeing spirits as fast as I did that I now miss them?

Time for Tuesday Tales again. This week, the writers are sharing snippets of their work with the word prompt hand. I am still in the paranormal story.

Check out the other tales here

The ringing of her phone on the bedside table woke her.

Fumbling around with her eyes still closed, she wondered what time it was and who’d be calling her so early. Or it could be late. All Lu knew was she was still exhausted.

The phone fell to the floor. Great.

It quit ringing for a second then started again. Her hand patted the floor trying to find the phone without having to open her eyes.

Unable to locate it, she got up and then down on her knees to grab the thing and click it on to accept the call. “Hello?”

“What the hell are you doing, Lu?” Malcolm barked in her ear.

“Sleeping.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. I was sound asleep. What is with you calling me, hanging up and dialing right back?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I seriously doubt that. I haven’t called you.” She shook her head, trying to follow the conversation.

“Maybe you should have.”

“Should have what?”

“Called me.” He practically shouted the words.

“Whoa. What’s your problem? I don’t think you realize how you’re coming across.” Lu took a deep breath. “Or you do realize and you don’t care.”

“You’ve created a disaster for that Kelley woman. She’s in a world of trouble. You should have reached out to me about her situation. Gave me a head’s up about the dead girl. I could have averted this whole situation but, no, you had to go off half-cocked again. This woman could be staring at some serious charges.”

“Who do you think you are?” Lu wanted to cry. Not from a broken heart but from rage. How dare he call me and yell at me like I’m a child. “I’m not going to tolerate you talking to me this way. You have no right.”

“I’m sorry, but this is a real issue for this lady.”

When Lu had a moment for her brain to actually wake up and focus, she got angrier “Hold on just one second here, Detective. I did call you. You thought I was calling about Christmas shopping and cut me off. Like I’d actually call you at work to waste your time about shopping. I was calling to tell you I met Kelley and her daughter while shopping and that we needed to figure out how to get probable cause to investigate the place the child said she’s buried. But no, you had to be rude and cut me off. And now you have the audacity to call me, wake me up and scream at me like some kind of lunatic. Well, I don’t have to listen to this. And I’m not responsible for Kelley’s behavior. She took her own actions. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” She pushed the end call button and turned the phone off completely.

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Run.  I am still sharing the paranormal story. I am working on first pass edits on it now.

Check out the other tales here

“I need to text Malcolm. I’ll be right back.” She walked a few steps away from the two spirits in order to think about how to compose the message. Not too friendly, not rude. Some middle ground, hopefully. She wished she had someone else to tell. But he was the only one who knew about her gift. Should never have gotten involved with him on a personal level. I wish I’d kept it strictly professional. Too late now. It is what it is.

After sending the message, she returned to the tombstone. “I’m going to go home. I told him where to find Mollie’s grave and the fidget spinner and told him the urine was on the back of Railroad Bill’s stone and also on the leaves on the ground. The crime scene people won’t need me to be here.”

“Lula Mae, you are not going to run away from this. You are always telling me women are as capable as men. If that is true, you stay and fight your battles. You were in the Army. An officer. So be one. Stay and face this new enemy and show him what you are made of.” Jackson saluted her. “An officer does not run.”

She sighed. He had a point. She couldn’t hide forever. Malcolm knew where she lived and had her phone number. It wasn’t like she could disappear. “All right. But be warned, I’m not taking any crap off him or Morgan if Morgan comes with him.”

“Do not forget, I saw you not take any bunkum off him earlier. You tossed them both out of your home. You were magnificent. Be that officer when they arrive.”

Lu straightened spine. I can do this.

Soon enough, the crime scene van arrived accompanied by a dark sedan that most likely held at least Malcolm, if not Morgan, too.

As it drove in, it came close to hitting Lu’s open car door. She looked at Jackson. “Be right back. I better shut that before more law enforcement cars arrive.”

She jogged over to shut her door just as Morgan got out of the driver’s side of the sedan.

He leered at her. “And here we find ourselves in yet another cemetery with Lula Mae Haverstock.” He glanced around, even turning in a circle. “No dog? Where’s the dog that needs to be walked in cemeteries? The weird dog that likes hanging out with dead folks.” He snickered. “Are you going to attend every cemetery in town and call us to come keep your company?”

“Can it, Chris,” Malcolm said as he came around from the passenger side.

Lu didn’t really want to talk to Malcolm but he came to where she stood. “Can we chat for a moment?” He looked at Morgan and added, “Privately.”