My first short novel “Abandon All Hope” is now available!

My first novel, Abandon All Hope, is now available on Amazon and can be ordered here.

Comments welcome!

 

ABANDON ALL HOPE! (a novel) – Chapter 8

~Chapter 8~

“Check your oil, Miss?”, Bubba Jones asked with a glint in his eye.

“No, thank you!,” the young blond replied.  She was tired of being gawked at by the large man pumping her gas.  Although customers were allowed to pump their own gas in South Carolina, Bubba had rushed up to her car, anxious to serve.

When he brought back her credit card slip to be signed, he purposely slid his greasy fingers over hers as he handed it back, smiling broadly, showing his two gold front teeth.  She jerked her hand back, almost dropping her credit card on the ground.  Oh no!  She thought to herself.  He’s going to pick it up and hand it to me and do his greasy finger slide thing again. Gross!

She sped away, watching his lustful eyes follow her until she was out of sight.  “Men are such pigs!”, she said outloud.  “The only thing missing was him drooling chewing tobacco down his jaw!  Man!”

Bubba had grown up in New Bern and had made himself a pretty good life here.  His father had opened the gas station, now aptly named “Bubba’s Best Gas and Convenience Store,” after Mr. Jones had died several years before.  Everybody knew Bubba in New Bern, after all he had been the star right tackle on the town’s only state champion high school football team a decade ago.

Although he had packed on a few pounds since those days, he had been solid muscle during his six years of high school.  And when Bubba Jones tackled you, you stayed on the ground.  More players had been injured by Bubba when he was on the field than the team physician could keep track of.  He seemed to take pleasure in not only stopping a running back, but putting him out of the rest of the game.  Most of his hits were clean, and the ones that weren’t received no criticism from his teammates.

The New Bern Police Department had long suspected Bubba to be the primary drug dealer in their town — but they couldn’t prove it.  He was often questioned, but never charged with any offenses.  He had actually temporarily quit his drug-dealing a month ago, when a much more lucrative opportunity came along.

After high school, Bubba had enrolled in Durham County Technical College and had graduated first of his class in auto mechanics.  His father had taught him a great deal, but he excelled in his classes at Tech, especially in brake systems.

He had often thought to himself, how hard would it be to compromise someone’s brakes in such a way that no post-accident investigation would provide any evidence of tampering?  And then he had gotten that phone call. (to be continued)

 

ABANDON ALL HOPE! (a novel) – Chapter 7

~Chapter 7~

Tony (“Big Boy”) Muldano had no enemies. Well, any that were still alive, that is.  He had grown up in the northern suburbs of Chicago’s underworld, La Familia being the only family he had ever known.  His life of crime had begun when he was only ten, running money for the local bookies, being the lookout for the Mafia’s monthly meetings, learning how to make life miserable for kids who didn’t pay up for the drugs he provided.  At age ten.

Big Boy’s career path had become much more focused in the last few years, especially as he reached his thirtieth birthday.  He celebrated his birthday in what would be to most an odd, if not perverse, way.  His first “job” involved assisting an elderly member of the Paterno family to his final rest.  Eighty-year-old Pepe Paterno had spent his entire life in drug trafficking, prostitution rings, and extortion.  But now he was in the hospital for his advanced emphysema and high blood pressure.  The Muldanos feared that Pepe (who they learned from a dirty agent was soon to be visited by the feds) would slip and reveal some of the family’s secrets.  So they sent Big Boy to pay Pepe a visit.

“Piece of cake,” Big Boy said as he left the hospital.  “What an idiotic old man,” he whispered to himself.  “He thought I was paying my respects.  Ha!  All he got was my right hand of fellowship.”  The right hand of fellowship was Big Boy’s massive mitt placed firmly over Pepe’s mouth and nose.  With his emphysema, it only took a few minutes for his last breath to be exhausted.  What a birthday present, Big Boy thought to himself.  Happy Birthday to me!

He laughed as he thought about the way hitmen were characterized in the movies.  After a number of contracts successfully fulfilled, Big Boy had resolved to develop some finesse in his art.  He abandoned his history of brute force and now prided himself on his subtlety in completing the assignments given to him by the family.

Big Boy began to insist that his associates call him “Anthony” instead of Big Boy, and that they respect his efforts at becoming more intellectual.  He began to read philosophy, which put him into a very different category of hitman.  Works by Nietzsche and Sartre became a steady diet for him.  He loved their statements that life had no ultimate purpose, that we are, to use Sartre’s words, “cosmic accidents” with no innate meaning or destiny.  To really believe such existentialism led some of those writers to suicide.  Anthony felt it led him into a conscientious commitment to doing good work in concluding the lives who needed to be done with this earth.

There was no real guilt in Anthony’s heart in practicing his craft.  And he was certain that there would be no eternal Judgment Day when he breathed his last.  Of that he was sure. (to be continued)

 

ABANDON ALL HOPE! (a novel) – Chapter 6

~Chapter 6~

The funeral service for Mitchell Oliver Pinnock was held that first Sunday at All Saints Anglican Church.  All Saints was the only Anglican church in the county, and the sanctuary was packed with mourners.

Mr. Pinnock had a stellar reputation in New Bern.  He had made it his practice in the twelve years he had been at First Fidelity to supply the local high school baseball team with their uniforms, with the name of the bank stenciled attractively on the back of the shirts, of course.  He did not hesitate to offer the lobby of the bank once a month for the Red Cross’ blood drive, and he was always the first in line to donate.  First Fidelity was also the central location for “Toys for Tots,” a Christmas charity for local families living below the poverty line.

As Rector Maurice Wright gave the eulogy, he emphasized Pinnock’s philanthropy and community-mindedness.  “Friends,” he said, “we just never know when the Good Lord will close the book on our lives and call us to Himself.  Let’s all resolve to live such lives of care and concern for others that our good deeds will go before us, guaranteeing us a place in heaven.”

Most at the service could be heard muttering a quiet “Amen” to Rector’s Wright’s admonition, with the exception of Robert Baker whose quiet tears expressed a concern for Mr. Pinnock that a chorus of even loud amens could not.

After the service, Mrs. Pinnock was comforted by numerous friends and family members.  Michael Pinnock, the oldest son, had flown in from California to mourn his father.  Many said that he looked just like his dad.  Surprisingly he did not shed a tear at the memorial service, nor at the graveside gathering in the afternoon.  Some said, “Well, he is like his father; he keeps his emotions in check.”

Michael’s sister Mary wept openly at both services, while simultaneously seeking to console her mother.  Mary had been notified of her father’s passing while she was on a short-term missions’ trip to Ecuador, working with a team of professionals who were building a children’s orphanage in Quito.

At the graveside service, Mary had a brief conversation with First Fidelity’s head teller Mr. Baker, and he gave her a consoling embrace as the family gathered to go back to the Pinnock home.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Rector Wright said to Mrs. Pinnock at the conclusion of the graveside service.

“Thank you, Reverend Wright,” said Mrs. Pinnock.  “It is all just so, so sudden!”

“I know.  I know, Mrs. Pinnock.  But he is in a better place now, as the Bible promises us from cover to cover.  May the peace of the Lord comfort your heart.”  Rector Wright shook her hand and slowly walked to his car.

“A ‘better place.’  I’m not so sure,” Mrs. Pinnock whispered to herself, as her son and daughter guided her to the family SUV.

“My deepest condolences, Mrs. Pinnock,” Janet Miller said as she reached out her hand.

“Thank you, Janet,” Mrs. Pinnock said.  “I know that you and Mitchell were close.”

“Yes, we were.  He was such a kind man and helped me get adjusted to my new job.”  Oh my goodness, thought Janet to herself.  Did she know?  (to be continued)

 

ABANDON ALL HOPE! (a novel) – Chapter 5

~Chapter 5~

Janet Miller had been with First Fidelity for three years, having moved to New Bern from New Jersey.  She thought about the word “fidelity”  — and she was overwhelmed with guilt and regret and sadness.  She had not intended on getting involved with a married man, and certainly not with one who was her boss!  She had been raised better than that.

But “circumstances,” she had convinced herself, had brought them together.  Pinnock had been so kind to her, had respected her opinions, had even opened the door for her, as Southern gentlemen were taught by their mammas to do.

That had been one of their first serious conversations, in fact —  Southern manners.  Although she was hired as a bank teller, she remembered the day Fidelity’s president had reached out to open the bank’s front door for her.  Raised to open her own doors, her hand had already been on the handle when his gently came down on top of hers and he said in his best Southern drawl, “Allow me, Ma’am.”  She could still sense that touch, that kindness, that warmth.  But now he was gone.

Their relationship seemed to have followed a rather innocent path.  As he explained some of her responsibilities, she was a bit surprised that he was the one going over her duties, rather than the head teller Robert Baker or Rick Santori, the personnel manager.

If she were honest with herself, when he first asked her out to dinner to “discuss” the upcoming vacation schedule, she knew that he had more than a employer/employee interest in her.  His wedding ring seemed to shout at her over a wonderfully intimate three-course dinner at a distant seafood eatery: “I’m married.  What are you doing here?”  Coming off a rough breakup, which was part of the reason she had fled New Jersey, Janet was happy for some male attention, not realizing that the business dinner was only an appetizer.  She, not to put too fine a point on it, was the main entree.

Their trysts were kept very confidential.  No one at the bank, as far as she knew, had any idea of their budding relationship.  They kept their distance from one another at work, strictly professional.  Quite the romantic, Pinnock would call her cell and leave a few minutes’ of the classic Chicago song “Stay the Night” on her voicemail, the signal that she should meet him out of town at the Red Roof Inn in Somerville, located where no one would recognize them or even care.

He never talked about his wife, or his grown children, although she had hoped they would soon discuss the possibility of his getting a divorce. Their conversations were always about her and her ambitions to advance in the banking industry.  He made no promises of promotions.  And she was certainly not trying to sleep her way to the top!  She chose to be with him, well, because she had never known someone so attentive, so gentle, so sweet.  She now wondered if that was precisely how he had begun his relationship with his wife thirty years ago.

Painfully Janet recalled a tearful conversation she had had with her mother after they had been seeing each other for a few months.

“Honey,” her Mom had begun, “he’s not married, is he?”

The question had taken her by surprise, but she should have known how incredibly perceptive her mother could be — and she could not lie to her mother.  “Yes, Mom, he is.  But he’s miserable — and he really cares about me.”

“Janet, your father and I raised you better than that!  What would your Daddy say if he were still here with us?”  Mr. Miller had died the previous year of cancer.

Her mother’s question was like a dagger in her heart, although she knew her mother was not trying to wound her.  It would be too much to say that Harry Miller had adored his daughter, but just about.  She was his only daughter, and he got teary-eyed when they talked about his one day having to give her away when she got married.

“Baby, I’m not looking forward to that day, but I do want you to be happy,” he had said to her.  “I pray for you and your future life-partner every day.  I just don’t know how I’ll be able to walk you down the aisle and turn you over to some other man standing in front of the minister.  He will ask, ‘Who gives this woman to be married to this man?‘  I don’t know if I can say ‘Her mother and I do’ without choking up.”

Sadly, that day of her daddy giving her away could no longer happen.  She had given herself away. What would her father say now?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought back to that conversation with her mother.  She left with the resolve to end the relationship with Pinnock.  But now that opportunity was gone.  She could not explain to him her guilt and her shame.  Perhaps he would have understood.

“How can I ever face Mrs. Pinnock at the funeral?”, Janet asked herself.  “Although I’m sure she had no idea.” (to be continued)

 

ABANDON ALL HOPE! (a novel) – Chapter 4

~Chapter 4~

“Where am I?”, Pinnock said out loud to himself.  But he only heard his own voice in his head.  Wherever he was was a place of absolute silence.  There were no echoes, no sound of air moving.  He could not even hear the sound of his own breath or the shuffling sound of his feet as he tried to consciously move them.

“There must be others around here.  Helloooo!”  Again, there was no sound, no echo, nothing.  Just silence.

“How did I wind up in this awful place?  What do I remember last?  I’ve got to think!”  Pinnock tried to focus hard, tried to think back to where he was before he wound up here, whatever here was.

“I remember being at a meeting of some sort.  Oh, yes, the bank executives’ meeting.  In Kendall, I believe.  I recall getting into a bit of a heated argument with Joseph Miller, that blowhard from New York!  He said something about further regulations being put on us from the home office in Poughkeepsie, and I said that banking was different down here and they should let us run our own local branches.  It got kind of ugly.  Someone said to me, ‘Simmer down, Mitchell!’  I guess I had had a bit too much to drink, because I pushed somebody and then they pushed me, and before I knew it, I was escorted out of the bar into the street.”

Again Pinnock tried to get his bearings.  But the darkness!  He remembered back to a family trip to the Luray Caverns his parents had taken him and his brother to when he was only eight.  He recalled the fear he felt when the tour guide turned off all the lights as they ventured about a half mile below the ground.  “Can’t see your hand in front of your face, huh?!” laughed the young man.  He then made an odd comment, but one that made a little sense in the Bible belt area of Virginia.  “Kind of reminds me of the Israelites when they were under the bondage of Egypt.  You remember your Sunday school lessons, don’t you, folks?  One of the plagues God sent to get His people released by Pharaoh was a plague of darkness.  In fact, Exodus — that’s the second book in the Bible — tells us that the darkness spread over Egypt and was a ‘darkness that could be felt!‘   Now that’s darkness, folks!”  He turned the lights back on and said,”Let’s keep moving.”  (to be continued)

 

ABANDON ALL HOPE! (a novel) – Chapter 3

~Chapter 3~

The phone call from Sheriff Thornton came about an hour later.  “Mrs. McMaster?”

“Yes,” Mrs. McMaster answered, her voice trembling.

“This is Sheriff Thornton from Kendall.  One of my deputies took a drive out to the Marriot and — I’m sorry to inform you, Ma’am — but he found a late model car that had missed that sharp curve on Highway 75 and had plunged down the embankment.”

“Was it a late model Lexus?, Sheriff?”  Mrs. McMaster asked, fearing what the Sheriff would say next.

“Yes, Ma’am.  I’m afraid so.  Apparently Mr. Pinnock — we found his wallet on him, Ma’am — had died instantly.  I am so sorry, Mrs. McMaster.”

Mrs. McMaster sobbed, “This is horrible!  Now I have to call his wife to tell her.”

“No, Ma’am, Mrs. McMaster.  My 1st officer is on his way to do that.  But if you are close to Mrs. Pinnock, it might really help if you could meet my officer there to be of any comfort to the widow.”

“Of course, Sheriff Thornton.  I’ll head right over there.”  Mrs. McMaster called all the bank’s employees into the conference room, leaving only the newest teller to take care of customers.

“I’m afraid our worst fears have been realized,” she began as she relayed the news of Mr. Pinnock’s car accident.  Robert Baker bowed his head as she told the employees what the sheriff had said.  “I hope he had thought about what we discussed last week,” he whispered to himself. (to be continued)