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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Third Shift - Prologue. The Witch of November

It begins.

"Since Wednesday, a powerful cyclone with winds of hurricane-force has been making its way across the country hitting parts of the Plains, Upper Midwest, Great Lakes, Ohio Valley, and Northeast … Unlike the cyclones we're used to seeing develop over oceans, this cyclone formed over land.

"It's what meteorologists call the "Witch of November" or simply the "November Witch," and it's not the first one to strike our country. Records of the November Witch causing problems date as far back as the 1860s.

"This year's November Witch is being compared to a similar one that struck in 1975 and conjured wind speeds so high that the resulting waves sunk the Great Lake freighter ship called the Edmund Fitzgerald."

This Year's 'Witch of November'

***

When the winds first hit, Sally Donovan was startled by the windows rattling and then heard a bang as the shed door in the backyard slammed shut. She looked outside and even though the trees were only clinging to a few leaves, there was enough kinetic force in the rushing air to make the old willow trees twist and jerk. The red maple seemed to be struggling as well.

At least it wasn't snowing.

Sally hurried back into her small bedroom. The house was very tiny especially for the neighborhood. It was set back only a block from White Bear Lake in the town of the same name. She had often wondered if her little one bedroom was a servants’ quarters or a mother-in-law house for one of the three large ones around her. It seemed reasonable to consider, though she didn't think the house was older than the 1950s and did they have servants then?

Sally shook her head and took out her old fashioned makeup case. It was empty and just the right size for a night away. She looked in the mirror inside the top of the case and looked at her teeth. A couple of the cracked ones were looking a little darker. She frowned and brushed back her graying brown hair. Maybe she should start coloring it. Sure, she turned fifty next year, but why not make herself more presentable.

Sally chuckled at the thought of dating again. Though it would be nice to find a guy with some money for a change. Most of her life she'd hooked up with losers who could be generous and kind at the beginning. They were always nice until they got their hooks into her.

Forget it, she thought. She'd sworn off men.

She paused at the thought of dating and it was then she heard a whooshing sound as the wind outside tried to pull off the roof. The gale seemed to have the power to rattle the very walls of her bedroom. Sally shivered and remembered a night when the winds threatened to take apart an old farm house.

Sally had been in her teens, thirteen years-old for only a few weeks. A boy by the name of Deacon had talked her into coming over to his house. They were alone and it was so exciting. She could still feel her heart beating so loud she imagined she could hear it thumping.

Deacon was an early bloomer with hairy forearms and a dark shadow of stubble on his chin. He was a year older than her and therefore both tantalizing and forbidden. When the wind started rattling the windows and banging the front screen door, they'd been kissing, necking hot and heavy. Deacon's kisses were lusty and deep. She could feel herself falling into him.

When the tree outside his bedroom cracked loudly and boomed like dynamite, she was surprised. It made her stop him and his eager hands. He looked more amused than upset. Deacon had taken her hand and placed it on his most private place. Sally finished him off in seconds, after all he was a teen-aged boy. The power she had to make him cry out and puff with delight had made her smile. That's how they got you suckered. They made you think you were in control.

Her memory made her a little scared.

It was lonely here in the house by herself. She had her work and her knitting. Thinking of her knitting, she grabbed her baby blue ball of yarn and needles with the beginning of a little cap for winter. She'd have it finished by the weekend.

As she pulled a robe and her nightie from the closet, a crash sounded from outside the front of her house. Her mouth formed an 'oh' and her heart sank. It wasn't just a loud bang. There had been the scrunch and crash of metal and the shatter of glass as well. Only one thing could have that loud of a sound and it was parked under a tree on the street.

Sally closed her eyes and said a little prayer she knew would go unanswered.

***

"Jenny, darling, I can't get down to you in time. My Corolla is smashed to pieces from that cottonwood branch, hell, half the tree came down on it. My poor Corolla." She was genuinely upset.

"Couldn't you have called earlier," Sally's daughter whined. "I have to be at the hospital in half an hour. Who am I supposed to have stay with Danny at 10:30 at night?"

"I'm sorry, honey. It only happened an hour ago. I thought Carol could give me a ride, but she's working at the store." Sally paced her small living room gnawing on her bottom lip. She knew her daughter needed the money from the extra shift. Danny had gotten a bad cold and it had taken a toll on her bank account.

"Isn't there anyone else who can watch him?" Sally's pace quickened.

Jenny Montrose was pacing on the other end of the call. She went to the bedroom door and opened it as quietly as she could. She watched from the doorway as her little boy slept unaware of her dilemma. When this overtime opportunity with the third shift differential came up, it was a godsend. She didn't make a lot of money to begin with and their little two-bedroom apartment was draining on her. Medical bills didn't help either. The insurance at the hospital was no better than anyone else's.

Danny was sleeping so well tonight. Just last week his slumber was interrupted by labored breathing and wheezing. He'd cough and it would wake him it got so bad. It stung her every time the little boy got sick.

Tonight he would probably just sleep through the night. That thought brought up a surprise solution to her problem. She smiled at the obvious solution.

"Maybe I do have someone to watch him," Jenny said, chewing on her lip much like her mother did. She'd adopted many of her habits including poor choices in men, at least until recently.

It's not like he'd need to do anything. Danny wouldn’t wake up or be any trouble. Jenny could work her shift, make enough to pay off the doctor's bill, and even have some pin money left over. She smiled thinking about her grandmother's idea of 'pin money.' She'd never had an allowance from a man like women used to get, back in the day. Women today worked for their own money and sometimes even supported their man. Maybe someday men would get ‘pin’ money from their wives to buy assorted sundries.

"I'll call you back in a minute. I think my idea will work."

And she thought, 'what could go wrong.'

***

Cory got out of the shower and was drying his hair when he heard Amelia scratching at the door. He had to close it when he showered. The dumb dog liked to splash around in the tub when he was in there. It was safe enough now with the water turned off and only a few last minute preparations.

Cory McDaniel was a “comb your hair, brush your teeth, shave and get outta there” type of guy. Sandy Thoreau was the opposite. He could primp and touch up and stare at the mirror for an hour getting ready for work. Sometimes it drove him batty but he tolerated it.

Like last night, they were getting ready to go out to eat at a new restaurant, Olives, as a reward. Cory started his new job tonight so Sandy was taking him out. It was 'art food' and while it wasn't Cory's favorite, he appreciated what Sandy was trying to do. Remembering it made him grin.

Cory got ready and was sitting in the living room waiting patiently. Their reservations were for eight o'clock and it was a quarter to. The shower had shut off over half an hour ago and he had yet to see his partner emerge from the bathroom.

"Are you about ready? We're going to be late," Cory called out, looking up from his computer. He was catching up on personal email and was almost done. Sandy hadn’t responded and so Cory finished his last delete, turned off the laptop and went to their bedroom. He opened the door and saw his partner standing by the closet wearing only a towel and talking on his cell phone.

When Cory stepped into the room, Sandy turned and looked at him. He looked almost angry at first. Then the raven-haired man with swarthy good looks smiled at him. It was warm and friendly. He put the phone to his chest.

“Just another minute. It’s work and I’m talking Casey off a ledge,” he said, taking a shirt from the closet and throwing it on the bed.

“Again,” Cory said, chuckling. “We’re going to be late.”

“I’ll be done in a flash,” Sandy answered and then shooed him from the room. Cory left shaking his head.

Sandy hadn’t been ‘a flash’ and they almost lost their reservation. The storm, surprisingly brutal winds without rain or snow, had taken down several trees and put them in the way. Even after Sandy finished getting ready, the detours around blocked city streets had made them very late.

Luckily, the manager was a patron at the restaurant where Sandy worked. They got a table and had a wonderful evening out. Cory felt the tide had turned. Things were much better, finally.

Remembering it made things seem better.

Now it was time for his new job. He’d been through orientation and tonight would be his first real shift. He was the night-time counselor for the Hennepin County Detention Facility. It was his job to make sure those held for trial or bond didn’t go bat-shit crazy.

He was thrilled. This would be his first real career move following his master’s degree, internship, and then part-time work where he could get it. The job wasn’t a cushy one or even the type of position a person bragged about. But, Cory knew it was a good place to get some serious experience.

His college advisor had told him this was the kind of work that built well-respected careers in their field. Cory hoped he was right. Regardless, he felt the hum of excitement buzzing in his chest. His whole body felt light and eager to get started.

The Third shift was about to begin.

Copyright © 2016 Cole Matthews; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

  On 5/30/2016 at 4:37 AM, Lisa said:

Awesome beginning, Cole! I'm sitting at the edge of my seat, already biting my nails! :P

 

What a set-up for that huge storm! And Gordon Lightfoot's Edmund Fitzgerald song! Omg, my kid was playing that on his guitar last year! lol

 

Ok, on to the first chapter. :)

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Thanks Lisa! I'm glad you liked my beginning. This was the first scene I had in my head. I'm happy it translated well. Awesome!

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