the oddness collection

Betweenthecoversofthisbook,thereaderwillfind 21 stories each complete unto itself.Madness, magic, and mayhem are wellrepresented as are fiction and truth.Relationships that embrace life, death andlaughter are explored. Boundaries are notclearlydefined,leavingthereadertodeterminewhat is real andwhat is not. Satisfactionwillcomefromreadingeachfastmovingstoryasaseparateentity.Thereisnomysteryhere.Readandenjoy.

TheOddnessCollectionby

MichaelFrancisJohn

Orderthecompletebookfromthepublisher

Booklocker.com

http://booklocker.com/books/8490.html

orfromyourfavoriteneighborhoodoronlinebookstore.

YOURFREEEXCERPTAPPEARSBELOW.ENJOY!

The Oddness Collection

Selected Short Stories

Michael Francis John


ii

Copyright © 2016 Michael Francis John ISBN: 978-1-63491-179-5 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Published by BookLocker.com, Inc., Bradenton, Florida. Printed on acid-free paper. The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. BookLocker.com, Inc. 2016 First Edition


iii

DEDICATED to THE MEMORY of

My Aunt Edith Mary Barnes and my mother Jillian Margret Johnson.

Many years have passed but you darling ladies will never be forgotten.


iv


v

Table of Contents

1. A Miracle on Walnut Street .......................................................... 1

2. Dooley Dog and the Deacon. ...................................................... 13

3. Deacon’s Story ............................................................................ 21

4. The Coronado Street County Hospital. ....................................... 32

5. The Imp of Grave Misfortune ..................................................... 41

6. O’Connell Garden Management. ................................................ 50

7. Conversations at the Library. ...................................................... 76

8. The Stunt Dog Demonstration .................................................... 92

9. A Mexican Cooking Odyssey ................................................... 104

10. A Mexican Cooking Odyssey ................................................. 114

11. Rise of the Falcon ................................................................... 132

12. Visions at the Black Rock ....................................................... 141

13. Big Dog Small Dog ................................................................. 150

14. Waiting At the Car Hospital ................................................... 167

15. Fighting Peter .......................................................................... 178

17. Rahj ......................................................................................... 197

18. Lonesome Farewell ................................................................. 203

19. Dark Henry Smith ................................................................... 206

20. Journey .................................................................................... 222

21. Journey Part 2 ......................................................................... 239


vi


vii

If the revered prophet is so fragile your religion requires

you to take up arms and avenge real or imagined insults, please do not read these stories. There are probably one or two sure to offend.

“The most excellent Jihad is that for the conquest of

self.”

Wisdom attributed to the Prophet Muhammad.


viii


60

So! "Away with the tools of ignorance." he muttered "Cast aside spade and hoe" (hoe he defined as an implement for removing weeds rather than a ghetto girl)

"Bring on the line trimmer, lawnmower and a can of gasoline. Me precious time is just waiting to be saved."

June had decreed that his precious saved time be committed to mowing their large back lawn and moving a pile of wood. Alan promised to do all that she asked, an act of atonement perhaps for his recent bad behavior.

It was a warm Saturday morning with clear skies, no wind, no excuses, and no possibility for reprieve.

The lawnmower refused to start. He pulled the starter a

thousand times no coughing, farting or other signs of life. Once again, the lazy little bastard sat in the sun as Alan

wiped sweat from his face. "It must start,” he whispered." I will be held accountable for such a silly excuse and all

my explanations reduced to empty words." He muttered a small lawnmower prayer to appease any internal combustion gods.

Once more he pulled the starter cord and, to his great disappointment, nothing happened. There was no divine intervention forthcoming that morning.

He removed the spark plug, which was sooty black and

dripping with unburned fuel. With plug in hand he stopped, listening intently. He swore he heard loud mocking laughter behind him.


61

Luckily he found a good clean spare in the tool shed. With the clean plug in place, two pulls on the starter and the mower burst into life.

He wished it had burst into flames. The smoldering wreckage could then support a reasonable claim that he was unable to cut the grass.

Alan's cache of saved time was fast dwindling, as was his tolerance for lawnmowers. He had two of the cantankerous animals.

One of them started easily but suffered from a huge oil leak and was relegated to the tool shed awaiting repair. The other was oil tight, but never started, as it should.

He acknowledged that lawnmowers of his acquaintance were perverse creatures. On a good day they would start easily and cut grass without protest; on a bad day they would exhibit all the irrational and infuriating behavior for which they were known. They were sensitive to various weather conditions.

Some had a preference for hot, dry days while others delighted in overcast, sultry conditions.

There were a few occasions when a sound thrashing with

a tree branch or stout stick seemed to temporarily correct their aberrant behavior.

The primary purpose of any lawnmower is, of course, to maintain grass at a uniform height.

Flowers, small slow moving animals, sprinkler heads, children’s toys and other objects may also be reduced to a common length.

To his credit, Alan remained ever vigilant and seldom attempted adjustment or repair of a lawnmower after drinking whisky.


62

He remembered to his shame, the disgrace and humiliation heaped upon him after he tried to repair the elderly family car.

With just a few tools and limited knowledge, enthusiasm radiated from him.

He was as always well meaning and hard working, but still the curse of old Ireland struck at him again.

With darkness fast approaching June found him. There he was, draped over the fender of the old family

ford covered in oil; engine parts in great profusion littered the ground at his feet.

A well used bottle of whiskey jammed between the radiator and cooling fan was sufficient evidence to convict him.

Alan was fast asleep amid the mechanical disaster he had wrought.

It was the brilliant intrusive glare of a camera flash that

opened his eyes. He turned slowly, struggling against a tide of alcoholic confusion trying to confront the awful reality that he could not avoid. June stood before him smiling grimly. "Please don’t disturb yourself my dear. Just a few pictures for the family Album, everyone should see how hard you work trying to repair your family’s car?"

Against Alan's wishes, June negotiated with a personable young mechanic from the local gas station.

He agreed to fix the car for a reasonable price. Even better, there would be no need to tow it to the station; “he would” he said “repair it at the house.”

These negotiations consumed an inordinate amount of time in Alan's opinion.

"The lecherous young egit will find himself entertaining me fist, upside his pointed head,” he mumbled.


63

"Enough of these dark memories though, away with such inappropriate thoughts” he said. "I've me work to finish."

And so, with the mower clattering away, Alan cut the grass. Gasoline for the mower, cold brown ale for Alan.

A little more than an hour and the grass was properly manicured.

After some trimming around the flowerbeds the garden would be finished, leaving only the woodpile to move. He sat on a lawn chair and considered the vagaries of garden implements.

Line trimmers or weed whackers were more easily

intimidated than lawn mowers, he thought. Perhaps, because of the size and weight difference. The

two ubiquitous machines he owned gave good service in and around the garden; however, precautions were always necessary before use.

Eye protection was mandatory and would usually prove less costly than medical intervention.

He knew from bitter experience never to wear shorts or open toe shoes even on the hottest day.

A moment’s inattention had resulted in a sudden loss of blood, with a highly decorative but painful pattern embossed into legs and feet. He remembered such an incident two years ago, and bore the scars to this day.

Also, he understood well, any line trimmer is possessed of an innate ability to seek out piles of dog shit. One must be aware of this possibility and avoid unexpected fecal contact.

He identified dogs as primary culprits, but knew cows, horses and even the lumbering buffalo were also guilty of befouling the landscape.


64

A gardener should avoid dung of any description, lest he find himself enveloped in a mist of odious brown particulate.

These creative musings eventually brought Alan to a

place of great happiness. The task of grass cutting and trimming was finished.

Weeds were whacked unmercifully, and the lawn now resembled the top of a Marine sergeant's head.

As a natural consequence of this strenuous activity, it was necessary to quench an all-consuming thirst. A fair quantity of good English ale extinguished the fire temporarily. It was, in Allan's rather biased opinion the very best thing to ever come from England.

Time now to attack the woodpile, and finish his Saturday garden management activities.

Another hour or so and he would be free to manage a lawn chair, perhaps test a little afternoon whisky and watch the world move slowly around him.

He beheld the woodpile. It was built with short logs about fifteen inches long that he had neatly stacked, ready to split before winter.

Unfortunately the logs he had so neatly cut and stacked were stacked in the wrong place. A chain link fence about fifty yards away would be their new home.

Tier by tier he loaded them in the wheelbarrow and

hauled them to the chain-link fence, where he stacked them just as neatly. All in all a simple task. At the end of the third row he rested for a while. With his back against the stack, he gazed absently across the path to the chain link.

Betweenthecoversofthisbook,thereaderwillfind 21 stories each complete unto itself.Madness, magic, and mayhem are wellrepresented as are fiction and truth.Relationships that embrace life, death andlaughter are explored. Boundaries are notclearlydefined,leavingthereadertodeterminewhat is real andwhat is not. Satisfactionwillcomefromreadingeachfastmovingstoryasaseparateentity.Thereisnomysteryhere.Readandenjoy.

TheOddnessCollectionby

MichaelFrancisJohn

Orderthecompletebookfromthepublisher

Booklocker.com

http://booklocker.com/books/8490.html

orfromyourfavoriteneighborhoodoronlinebookstore.

the oddness collection

Documents