By David Drapeau
The wind blew into the house as I stared upon my desk. My wife, Helen walked in the room upon fixing her apron.
“You know honey, I can’t think while you look at me like that.”
She turned away and gave me the eye, and her feet sounded like cement on the wood floor. Then I heard a low sound that distracted me. My cat Jasper was purring and looking at me with an eye too.
“Okay Jasper, you just need me to keep you company?”
She purred some more and then jumped off the desk into our parlor. In the parlor my son was laying down. He was cold and a smell came from him. I couldn’t bear him anymore I had to do something with him, and I can’t wake him.
My son is dead.
My son is dead, oh so he is.
“No, that’s not right. Honey can you com help me with this thing?”
Helen walked into the room, looking as glum as usual with bloodshot eyes, a wet jacket, and a tired bruised face.
“No I can’t help you. You have to do some thing’s yourself. I have to go out, I can’t bear to see Andrew like this anymore, get rid of him and make sure whatever I say, how much I beg for it that you don’t bring him back inside.”
Helen walked out like the tramp she was. I couldn’t stand the thought of her.
6/20/1909,
The western state of Arizona under new Outlaw Law.
Under commission of Baker T. Bradley the union officials….
What am I doing? I can’t write this either! It’s too controversial and most of the townsfolk wouldn’t appreciate a story concerning their state. Dam bastards!
My son is still dead.
Time passed rather quickly and my senses began to lose it. I had a few too many shots then I felt dizzy and tired; I yawned and moved around in my chair. I drifted off into a dream state and had thoughts of the new phonograph models.
Just then, I heard a couple of strange sounds that emerged me from my daydreaming.
“Hello?”
Nobody replied except my cat. I looked over and saw her purring next to me. I also took another shot.
“I hate pussy! I hate you cat!! Why on dear earth did Helen ever want me to pick you up?”
Jasper just purred and purred, then purred some more and then purred again. She looked up and her big green eyes brighter. She jumped off and run away, but this time something scarred her.
“I know that look Jasper! Stop being a pussy! We both know the only person to scare you like that is Andrew!”
My son is really dead.
“Andrew!”
I turned around and thank god nobody was there. I looked into the parlor and saw Andrew still lying down. Odd how I thought Andrew was behind me.
But my son is dead.
Time passed by some more and a small breeze would blow in from time to time. I felt the cool air of my house on my face which gave me a point for my next great idea.
“I got it!”
I jumped right on the type and started typing my next big move.
“W! H! O! R! E!”
“P! O! R!”
“N!”
The words flumed out of my mouth and on to the type.
White Horse phonograph, the next big era of music.
“YES!!!!! I GOT IT!!!!”
I jumped up and down with joy. My newspaper chief will love my story. I ran all around my house. I even ran into my room and jumped on my bed like a kid again. I ran into the parlor and kissed….wait.
“Oh my god! Andrew where are you!”
I panicked and looked all around the house. I looked outside and saw some townsfolk’s looking at my house. Why did they stare at my house? Was I too overjoyed with my story?
My son is dead I think.
I looked back at them, and some ran off with disgust. I’m starting to panic, and it’s almost three. My dear Helen will be back soon. She will freak out that Andrew is gone! Then I’ll get yelled at and won’t get any sex tonight!
I paced backed and forth, down the hall and into the parlor.
“Where are you Andrew?”
I saw Jasper walking by and I grabbed her. The poor thing looked scarred and tired all at once.
“You’re tired of my game aren’t you? We will see how you like it”
I lost all my patience with that hairy pussy and I kicked the cat into the metal furnace. It made a loud thud and a moan.
My cat might be dead.
“That shows you! I know that you got Andrew to pull a trick on us!”
Just then, I heard a knock at the door. Was it Andrew? NO! It was a woman; I think it was Barbara Sheen my Landlady.
“Are you in there? I hear yelling and animals sounds coming from your house. Is Helen back yet?”
I opened the door and just looked at her.
“I’m in the middle of a crisis, BARB –ARA!” I mocked her.
“Well is there anything I can do to help you with it?”
“NO!! Never! I don’t need help!”
“Well then what were you doing?”
“I….” I shuddered for a moment thinking maybe I was having a bad dream and I could get away with saying this.
“I was having sex”
“Well, how is that? Helen isn’t home?”
“I was having sex with Jasper!”
“Oh so you must be one of those homosexual men?”
No this dumb whore didn’t realize my dilemma. I had a dead son missing, I injured my cat, and I can’t write anything because my story was made up, and my job requires real stories.
“Listen, Barb. Jasper is my cat!”
“Oh, well you can’t have”
“Yes Barb, get it through your head, I can.” I interrupted.
My son might be dead.
Barbara just looked at me in confusion then ran off my step and into town. I slammed the door to find the smell and odor gone.
“OKAYYY!! You little rat!! I’ve had enough with your problems!! I can’t stand the fact that you insult our family and that you can hide from me. Andrew!!”
I got so tired of this nonsense and my procrastination that I grabbed my revolver and then grabbed my cat. I put my revolver up to my cat and began to interrogate it.
“I know that you and my Andrew set up this plan to torture my thought and valued time, that’s why I’m going to take it easy on you!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!! I shot the gun off to the side and Jasper shivered in my hand. I began to cry and think of Andrew as I dropped my cat on the ground. She ran off into the bedroom and under the bed.
“OH! No you don’t! I won’t let this happen!”
Click. I reloaded my gun as I walked to the bedroom. I came closer to my bed, and then I creped down and saw Jaspers little face. Her eyes were so big and green, glossy and ready to die.
I heard another knock. So I ran over to the door thinking Barb was back. But as soon as I opened the door,
“You’re coming with us”
“Don’t grab me you bastard!”
The sheriff grabbed me and tied me up. I heard him talking of how I was going to jail for not paying Barb the rent for last month.
As I got dragged off I saw Helen walk in front of the house in dismay. She turned at me and then stepped aside.
“What! I was so stupid! I can’t write anything!!!”
What was I thinking, I can’t write anything. I should have done what I was told to and stopped messing around. Maybe if I didn’t create such a wasteland of made up stories and stuck to reality.
I looked back and saw Andrews’s corpse lying in front of the house. The small breeze knocked him out the window into the front of the house.
My son is dead.
Biography
I’m David Drapeau and I have written a very funny and interesting story. It’s about a writer and his struggles to write an article. Meanwhile, he hurts his cat blaming it for the sudden disappearance of his son’s body.