Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Lost in Transition

Walking down main street after a nice breakfast at Gavin's, a muffin and some coffee, the sun seemed to shine a bit brighter. I couldn't quite remember what I did last night, a common occurrence after a heavy day of drinking. Going to sleep last night unusually happy, I woke up today with a certain pep in my step and a renewed vigor that had overtaken my previous drought of despair, or whatever had been keeping me down. My sight swinging across the street, I saw many people out enjoying what seemed to be a beautiful day.

Stepping in and out of the pothole, I walked past Dreamwood Terrace and continued down the street. I walked without a destination, waling to enjoy my day the pure happiness that was impossible to explain. Something deep in my core told me that Winsley was getting closer and closer to my reach, and if I kept pushing, I would finally succeed in having my child. Something was off, but I really couldn't put it. I planned to make another call to Winsley's guardian, and try again at getting him. But in the meantime, why spoil the wonderful day I was having with some hard work.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing in the woods, talking to people at O'Harley's, and sightseeing from the observatory. Everything was great that day, until I came home. Walking into my apartment, I was met with an official looking guy. He introduced himself as detective Adam Phelps, private detective.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but I need to ask you what you know about a Hazel Pierce".

Saturday, February 21, 2015

An Irreversible Action

Waking up in my bed, I turned my head to the window and felt the sun slide across my face. A warm smile crept to my lips, and I turned to roll out of bed. Odd that I felt so well, after the late night of drinking by myself at O'Harleys should have left me incapacitated with a massive hangover. Reaching over to put on my shoes, I fell out of the bed and collapsed in a pile of dirty clothes and beer bottles. It was then that I realized that I was still drunk, and the hangover had not yet reached me. This had not been the first time I had found myself in this situation, and the best way to deal with it is to keep drinking, so that I could function for the rest of the day. Let the future Cole deal with the pain that would come from a bender of this magnitude.

After finally tying my boots and finding my coat, I wandered on down to O'Harley's yet again. Being my main source of alcohol in the town, I found my self more and more frequently at O'Harley's as my attempts to reach Winsley went further and further south. Not an issue if you asked me, and as an added bonus I was beginning to know the bartender pretty well. Stepping out of Dreamwood Terrace, I turned down Main St. and noticed that the pot hole had grown in size. I noticed this because I tripped into it again. However, I picked myself up and headed to my destination. While winding through the streets, I noticed a blue sedan seemed to be taking all of the turns with me. Probably nothing, but one can never be too sure.

After reaching the bar, I picked a spot right by the window and people watched as I enjoyed my pint. There seemed to be a commotion down on Herbert Johnson Road, so I talked to Rick and he told me the details, something about a man jumping off the building. We debated the topic, whether giving up was even an option when it comes to life, and I scared him off when I reached shouting level. Looking back out the window and letting the cool beer quench my anger, I saw the same depressing man I met the other day walk by. He yet again seemed stuck in the same funk he was in, but that didn't surprise me. Following him was a man I had not yet met, but it seemed that he was trying not to be seen by the funk-man. He came into the bar, looked around, and picked the spot opposite of me at the window. Introducing himself as Kaden, we talked about the man on the roof, himself, myself, and our stories. He was a pretty sweet guy, and we got along well. That may have been because of the many many beers I had consumed by this point, but what does it matter. We both enjoyed ourselves.

Kaden eventually excused himself, and I was left yet again alone with my beer. While continuing my day and afternoon of excessive drinking, I found myself angrier and angrier at the situation I was in. Why was it up to me to deal with the obtuse bitch who wouldn't listen to reason? Why did my brother pick me care for this child who I had never met? Why was I so bad at trying to reach my goals? As I questioned life, I drank more and more until I had reached a new level of drunk. I was feeling so drunk that my vision swayed, my balance was off, but I was thinking clearer than ever.

It was night now, and I needed to go home before I really did some damage to myself or someone else. Walking down the street, I noticed the large hole in the ground coming up on my left. I had always wondered what was up with it, but I got the idea that no one really knew abut it either. But what I saw that spiked my interest more was the person walking up the road towards me. It was a woman, and as long as my drunken vision didn't lie to me, it was that god forsaken beast of a woman who was in charge of my child. The thought crossed my mind how I had never learned her name. A second thought crossed my mind, that I could get rid of all my problems here and now. My day had consisted of telling myself how horrible my situation was, and how I was such shit at solving it. But that could all change now.

With a primal yell, I charged at the woman and shoved her right into the hole. I heard her scream as she fell and I shouted "Winsley is mine!" after her tumbling body. A smile for the second time that day slid across my face with my deed done. My life was going to be a lot easier now without her to fuck with me.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

A Picture Frame of Reference

Last week was a train wreck, no doubt about it. Looking back, I'm surprised I even lived through it all. I have my journey in front of me, but some changes need to occur to make sure everything works smoothly. First thing first, I need a change of perspective.


Cole realized that he had been going about this whole Winsley business the wrong way. He never had even thought to ask the woman if she would let Cole take his nephew. In fact, all he knew about the lady was the report he got from the lawyer, and the negative thoughts just grew from there. Maybe there were some redeeming qualities to the woman, and Cole had never thought to even try to know her.

Resolved to try and talk his way to success, Cole began his search for the woman in control of his life at the moment. After talking to the owner of O'Harley's and the daycare staff, Cole concluded that she lived in the trailer park across the tracks. Walking the streets towards his new destination, Cole rehearsed the conversation he thought he was going to have when he showed up.

Hi, my names Cole. Have we met before?
No, that would be stupid, seeing as he nearly scared her to death at the bar.

Listen here lady, that my rightful boy you have, and you know it. Let him raise him before you ruin him.
No, that would just send off the wrong message and end in anger from both parties.

Working on the best approach to his future confrontation, Cole looked up in time to see a man stumble and trip in the pothole outside of Dreamwood. Feeling a sense of brotherhood sharing the same inanimate enemy, Cole walked over and helped the poor sap up.

"Hi, my names Cole. Have we met before?" Cole said, deciding for a fact he would not use that with his sister in law.

The man looked up at Cole, appearing to be so lost within his thoughts that he couldn't even register the question. Finally, he spoke, declaring his name to be Forrest Whitman.

"That pothole and I have had many the troubled interactions, have we?" Cole said while pointing to the ground, trying to find a way to pull any sort of emotion out of Forrest. Laughter at the joke, Anger at the stupidity of, anything but the sheer surface of nothing that was ever present.

"Forget it, see you around chap." Cole said, deciding he had more important matters at hand.

Knocking on the door to the trailer, Cole suddenly realized that he had never decided what he wanted to say. Before he could think of anything, the door swung open. Inside was the lady, the lady who had given his life a goal, the one obstacle in his way from achieving familial happiness.

"What do you want?", the lady spat at him with a cigarette in the corner of her mouth. Before Cole could say anything, her eyes flicked open like a light bulb was turned on in her skull.

"Wait a minute! You're that bastard from the other night! You want my boy, Hogan. Well, you can't have him. I'm raising him." she said adamantly.

"Hogan?" The name dropped from Cole's mouth as a whisper, while she began to close the door. "Wait, wait, wait! My nephew legally belongs to me, and if you respected the rights of your sister and my brother, you would let me raise him."

"Your his brother? Man, no wonder you are such a freak. I'm glad he died. Shame he took my sis with him." She said as she slammed the door shut, catching Cole's sleeve in the door.

Stunned by the ladies harsh breath and even harsher words, Cole stood there for a moment. That was, until he heard threats coming from inside the trailer telling him to leave before a weapon was brought into the mix. Cole departed, leaving his jacket, and soon regretting it as he found a cold pocket of air.

Reflecting, Cole realized that he was in an even worse situation than before.


I knew that would never work. Time to start thinking clearly.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Days of Misery - Apt. 422

The past few days have been a reckless turn of events. Ever since finding Winsley, I have been following him relentlessly. I found that retched aunt, and never let her out of my sight if I could help it. Sadly, in doing so, I got to know my boy through observation, and what I saw, I didn't like.

My poor boy was a delinquent! I saw him snatch watches, wallets, purses, whatever he could get his hands on. More often than naught, I would see him yell at his guardian, not that I blame him, and generally cause ruckus everywhere he went. Was this the boy I was tasked with raising? If I could even find a way to get him away from that bitch, could I turn him around and make a fine lad out of him?

My conflict of emotions and desires left me confused and lost, so I went through the motions of following these two until I came up with something. After a few days of this, I found myself sitting in O'Harley's, a bit more drunk than I should have been. My eyes kept drifting back to that woman, the improper caretaker for my boy. She was smoking at the bar, until some other lady walked up. They talked for a bit, I could hear them over the din of the pub. They eventually walked outside, and I saw my neglected boy follow them out. With my judgement far from clear, I found it best to follow the three of them. Peeking through the window, I saw the ladies talking, but more importantly, I saw Winsley pulling the wallet from his aunt's purse. I burst through the door, the pint of lager clouding my thoughts.

"Winsley, my own nephew, what on earth are you doing?"

All three of these strangers stared at me, mouths open. I realized then that none of them knew who I was, and the voice in my head that could still think straight told me that this was a stupid idea and that I should run now.

Staring into the dirty teeth of the aunt, I made my decision. I ran off the patio, looking back it was more of a stumble, and I continued running all the way back to my apartment. Sitting on the floor, I replayed the actions of the night. What seemed like such a solid plan at the time now shows itself as pure asshole-ery. I can't believe that any of that seemed like a good idea. My brother always did say that I was rash when I was drunk. This is certainly going to make my job here in Dreamwood harder.


I awoke later, with two things on my mind. The first was that I must have passed out, but that wasn't the scary one. The loud banging and shouting at my door was what was worrying me.

"Sir, you have until the count of three before I break your door down. One... Two..."

I fell flat on my face as I ran to the door, trying not to raise the cost of this apartment any higher than it was with the repair costs associated with a broken door. Just as he reached three, I pulled the door open and leaned on the door frame with blood leaking out of my newly bloody nose.

"What seems to be the problem, officer?"

"We have beliefs that you are connected to an international drug trade, and with this permit, we are going to search the apartment until we are satisfied with the results."

The officer looked me over, observing my wrinkled and now blood stained clothes.

"We also received reports of a man terrorizing the public at O'Harleys tonight, and you seem to match the description perfectly. Sir, I am going to ask you to step outside while we search the premise. Please do not leave, as that will result in more trouble for the both of us. I think we can agree that neither of us want more trouble at the moment."

I nodded my head, and walked down the stairs. I guess it was more of a fall, as I was still a bit drunk and weary. Finally landing outside, I cleared a spot in the newly fallen snow on the sidewalk and plopped my feet down. They fell farther than expected, proving to me that I somehow found my friend the pothole below all of this snow. My head in my hands and my feet in the snow, I sat wondering how my life could get any worse.

At that moment, and neighbor invited me to his apartment for some waffles. I figured I could only go up, so I followed him.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

The Encounter

I was walking down Shelac Ave, after just helping out a vulgar girl with her groceries when I saw him. There were plenty of kids playing in the fountain, but he stuck out. That was him, my nephew.

In my sudden rush to do anything, I ran towards Dreamwood Terrace, tripped in a pothole, and fell onto the sidewalk. Some of the kids saw and giggled, but he didn't. Not like he would know who I was, but better safe than sorry. I got to my apartment, and watched him from the window. The little chap was eventually taken back to the daycare by the staff, but at least I had a direction to go in.

I walked over to my desk and pulled out a letter, addressed to me from my brother's lawyer. Discarding the stationary stating my brothers death and his final wishes, I found it. The photograph of my only nephew, Winsley Murphy. He had a round face plastered with freckles, with a mop of red hair that was far long for a five year-old, if you asked me. But there was no mistaking it, that was my boy. Going back to the letter, I reread all the important parts.

My brother and his wife had both died in a shooting, leaving there only son with a small sum of money. They had set up for the son to move in with a sister on the wife's side until I could come get him, but then the lawyer encountered a problem. Apparently she felt that she was the rightful guardian for Winsley, ignoring the last wishes of my brother, and moved into hiding to keep her custody of the boy. I had finally found him here, but then I realized.

 I had no idea what to do next.