Read an Excerpt
Desert Son
By Glenn Maynard Black Rose Writing
Copyright © 2014 Glenn Maynard
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-61296-312-9
CHAPTER 1
Warm weather streaked through Boston for a cameo on this late March afternoon. Mid-70's usually did not emerge from hibernation until April, but none of that mattered much for Carter Spence. No temperature could affect him now. Temperature usually made all the difference in the world to Carter, but now springtime's rebirth seamlessly transpired.
Carter's mood elevated, but temperature played no role. For a split-second, he thought perhaps his mood had a calming effect on his body, but only because his 175 pounds felt fluffy, like he'd been influenced by helium. Just to contradict this sensation, he remained still. He felt silly even testing. This feeling had only captivated him while running around the bases at the baseball fields near his home, or even when he was a tad tipsy at the bar, but this still overpowered those other times.
Carter questioned reality. As a recent college graduate, he'd dabbled in binge drinking, even though not nearly as frequent as his "crowd" did. In fact, every so often, Carter would be the one strong enough to volunteer himself as designated driver. Carter was able to glance beyond the average college student in an attempt to supersede peer pressure, and assume responsibility for his actions. He always was the responsible type.
As Carter found himself suspended in a position enabling him to oversee earth, he knew this transcended a typical mood swing. He unquestioningly went along with whatever life threw at him, even in this extreme case, surprising even himself.
Surveying the earth below, feeling not an ounce of care in the world, Carter continued wafting like a loose sheet of paper in the wind, drifting inch by inch, contentedly, as he began keying in on an object. He seemed more preoccupied with this new attraction than with his sudden participation with the solar system. It would have been cataclysmic had both his feet mixed with the earth's dirt, but that wasn't the case.
As much a presence that this altered state should have been, Carter began battling a continual attraction to the object. This diversion was enough to cloud the reality and incomprehensibility of the situation. He finally stopped moving, involuntarily; no further elevation. He awaited the presence of normalcy, but this delay only lengthened his journey.
He sensed that he had no encasing. He felt that he was just a feeling, or that his existence was just a thought. He couldn't see his body, but never really cared to check, either. He just had a gut feeling that his thoughts were in a mind of their own. He felt like a breadless sandwich. However, he did not care one way or another.
Carter astonished himself when his focus zoomed in like human binoculars. This felt so empowering, so controlling, so consuming, and he felt that the sky was the limit. For a 26-year-old guy who had felt so powerless in the city of Boston, this certainly boosted his confidence, but he only wished he could have this focus and earth simultaneously.
He began reflecting on the bullying that he'd received as a child on his school playgrounds. He wished he could find those punks now, even though he since had learned to defend himself fairly well. Nobody much messed with Carter once he hit the 10th grade and began pumping weights vigorously. Nobody was going to offend him, and in the city it was sink or swim. He had taken it upon himself to get in a position where he could defend himself. He looked at it as survival of the fittest.
He did not get revenge by beating the hell out of those bullies who had previously roughed him up. No, that was not Carter's style. Rather, his presence became his revenge. And with this new image came a certain macho sex appeal that ushered in his debut in dating. He discovered that the two scenarios were intertwined, and that did not pose a problem for Carter Spence.
Carter did love women, but he could not be in love with them. He believed that he had just never found the right girl, but deep down wondered if he even had the ability to love. This disturbed him greatly, making him, for the most part, uncomfortable around women. He had convinced himself that he was just very picky when it came to women.
During his peak conditioning, the one-time bullies would look up at Carter in the high school hallways, acknowledge his presence with a nod, and then humbly mumble, "What's up, Carter?" Although Carter considered this sufficient sweet revenge, the thought of toying with these bullies from above did tickle his imagination.
Carter eventually determined that the object on the ground resembled a body, but it wasn't moving. Then his focus zoomed in some more, and quickly the body took on an eerie familiarity to him. The scene below grew chaotic. Cars jerked to the highway side. Doors swung open, remaining that way while people flocked to this object, which was a body lying face down in an embankment. Carter watched this scene unfold before him as if he was watching a movie on television.
The first man to arrive shouted in panic to an unresponsive body. He carefully turned the body on its back, eased down by the second and third man to arrive. Carter continued to zoom in on the victim because he felt as if he knew this man. He recognized the strong face attached to the muscular frame. He recognized the worn denim jeans with the oddly-shaped tear just above the knee, and even the tan polo shirt, which by now had absorbed blood. The shoes that had detached from the man's feet were familiar, as were the blue Gold Toe socks on his feet. His eyes moved back up the body to the face, and saw that it was his body.
Carter felt indifferent while observing his poor, lifeless body. I look so pale, he thought, aside from the streaking blood on his face. Carter couldn't believe it was really him. He would have been hard pressed to select that body out of a lineup if asked to identify him. However, he barely was able to recognize his own facial features below. Just how observant and aware of his own self was he, Carter pondered. It seemed interesting to Carter, more than anything else, to see himself from another vantage point, yet treat the situation so matter-of-factly.
Between the lanky frame and the short, light brown hair, he thought that it had to be him. But why, he wondered, confident that there would be no dream to awake from, or no Allen Funt to emerge out of nowhere to tell him about a camera. Besides, if this was a dream, he wouldn't be wondering if it was a dream. He didn't think he'd be wondering if it was a dream, but what he wouldn't give to test this theory of his.
Carter zoomed to within about a telephone pole's length away, even though he felt like a satellite in space. He noticed the traffic really starting to jam. Cars could no longer pass by. One woman screamed hysterically after discovering an upended automobile streaming fuel onto the ground. She placed both hands on her head and let out a series of chilling wails. Carter watched emotionlessly.
Some good Samaritans flocked to the car to help, while others ran from the danger. Most drivers rubbernecked their way past. Carter shifted his attention to directly above the car, where a solid oak shook off contact. A penetrating scar splintered the tree, which was evidence of a speedy impact. Carter faced all four wheels, witnessing the last tire as it finally slowed to a stop. This all happened so suddenly that this new scene before him appeared almost before the previous scene had ended. A dirty, scraped arm flopped outside of the car, limply touching the ground, and a thin tornado of smoke rose through Carter.
Carter could see that tire marks had blackened the highway, and then dirt marks continued off the side of the road to where the car rested. He did remember getting into his parents car, but he could barely make a positive identification of that car. It had rolled and wrapped itself around the tree at the roof. The smell of gasoline enveloped the air and the potential danger was incalculable. However, good people still stopped.
Gas dripped at a steady rate from the gas tank vicinity. Streams of smoke billowed from under the hood. Carter hoped the smoke and the drips didn't merge, but when there's smoke, there's fire, and within minutes the car flickered flames. Carter felt helpless to try to save those inside. He wondered if it even mattered as he saw that the car's front bumper meshed with the dashboard and the roof the car rested on met up with the bottom of the windows, which were smashed all around.
He knew those inside hadn't a chance, and then Carter positively identified the car as his parent's car, so it was his parents who were trapped inside. My God, Carter thought. This isn't happening. They could die. This thought flashed through him, but he was emotionless.
Emergency vehicles nudged a path to the wreckage, and a few heartless people took advantage of this path to better their positioning. This was the city life, and nothing was going to spoil the day of some people. Cars edged closer to neighboring cars on the left, while cars in the far right lane eased off the road, some entirely. Sirens blared, while red and blue lights flashed through the light of day. Carter took notice of numerous police cars, ambulances and fire trucks.
Carter knew his parents had expired, but what about his body? Where was he now? Was he dead? Paramedics swarmed his physical body below, and he wondered if he would ever be reunited with it. He wanted badly to be able to help himself, but he could only watch, unsure if it was his unwillingness or inability to intervene. He felt like an actor watching his own movie, but he certainly possessed more peacefulness above than what was being transmitted at the chaotic scene below.
Firefighters in yellow coats squelched the flames with foam, but the people who had jumped from their cars to throw mud at the flames controlled the spreading. These people will be the ones dubbed heroes, but will refuse the tag on the local newscast. Carter could envision this before it even happened. He wasn't being disrespectful to those trying to help his parents, but he felt his folks stood no chance by the looks of things. Maybe the car wouldn't burn to a crisp, but if they did survive the impact, any fire would be enough to finish the job.
Carter believed his ejection from the car came prior to impact because of his distance from the vehicle, and then it occurred to him how he had gotten into the situation he found himself in. His thoughts moved away from the chaos momentarily, zooming out of that scene and into another.
CHAPTER 2
Sydney and Patricia Spence planned a family function religiously every Sunday after church with Carter, their only child. Even if it was just a sit-down dinner, they were happy, but Carter's independence made this a difficult thing to schedule, at times. It wasn't that Carter did not enjoy spending time with his family. In fact, they were a tight-knit family that may even be considered normal as far as dysfunctionalists are concerned.
Carter always said his life story was unremarkable, but he had the personality that made him okay with that. He was not a guy who liked attention, preferring to live under the radar. Routine was what he craved. He resided in the same house, same street, same town his whole life, and he wanted to know what was wrong with that?
Carter believed his parents deserved a tip-of-the-hat for his upbringing. He had no regrets, no war stories, yet no younger brother he could refer to as the Beaver. Carter still lived at home as a 25 year old, and he and his parents did enjoy each other's company with only minor tiffs. The outrageous housing expense in Boston had skyrocketed beyond impossible, so if Carter tossed a few bucks at his parents on a weekly basis, then everybody won.
On this particular Sunday, Carter had a previous engagement with his best friend. He and Charlie Ritz had planned on purchasing last-minute tickets to the Boston Bruins game against the Colorado Avalanche. They waited until game time, even beyond, in order to get drastically reduced tickets from scalpers, who either accepted a few dollars or went home with unused tickets they would refer to as "evil souvenirs."
Charlie Ritz had graduated high school with Carter and they played varsity baseball together. He went to trade school to be an electrician. He kept himself physically fit and was Carter's workout partner. Charles had a quick wit, which sometimes got him in hot water. If he drove, it would be in his company truck. He wanted to learn all that he could from his employer of seven years, "Beantown Electric," so he could eventually open his own business. He was always trying to convince Carter to leave his job and join him in business as an electrician. Charlie was willing to mentor him, and Carter could also help with the books. They had met in high school and formed a pretty close bond during this critical time in a person's life. They continued their friendship post-high school as they both commuted to college while living with their parents. They even had that in common.
Carter and Charlie usually paid next to nothing for hockey tickets, but if the Bruins met their rivals, the two would have to revise their plans without a hockey game under their belts. The Avalanche battled for a playoff spot while Boston had already sewn up second place with few games remaining in the season. Carter and Charlie still had trouble, even though the game meant nothing for the home team.
They couldn't find tickets to this Avalanche match-up to save their lives. The game sold out a couple of hours before the showdown, and everyone walked circles around Boston Gardens yelling out for anyone to hear, "Who's got tickets? Need tickets!"
This meaningless match surprised these two ticket-seekers. They gave up early, and decided to go their separate ways. This usually only happened when the Red Sox played, even though Fenway Park had far more seats to offer. So after Carter dropped Charlie off at home, he returned home, where his parents had the car packed for a day trip.
Carter's parents had planned a jaunt to see Al Gorman and his wife. Sydney Spence and Al Gorman had teamed up for over 10 years at their accounting firm, and Carter had been working at their firm since graduating college from Northwestern University three years prior. This season proved especially taxing, so they decided to take a day off and get together for food and drink.
Sydney and Al were far from rich, but just as far from poor. They were comfortable. Both possessed accounting degrees from different schools, but they worked together at this small company, buying it from their boss/owner when he retired. The boss was going to pass the business on to his son, but his son had died in a motorcycle accident two years before he was to take the helm.
Although Sydney and Al had no intensions of taking over the business, the boss offered them a deal they couldn't refuse. This would ensure a more comfortable lifestyle for them even during the economic downturns such as the one they had been going through of late. They were all like family, and Sydney and Al had helped their boss through the most difficult period of his life when he lost his son. They began as coworkers and formed a bond, which strengthened when they had become equal partners. Every summer they would shut the business down and the two families would vacation together in a different state each year.
Since Carter's plans never materialized, he decided to go along with his parents to the Gorman's. He very much enjoyed being with this second family. Sports fans never swap boring stories. There's always an incredible comeback or the save of a lifetime or a promising new season, especially if there is an addition to the roster, and that was always the case. Boston is just the place to live for any sports fanatic. Of course Carter would go for the ride. Besides, he had missed the last month of Sundays with his parents, which was the longest stretch of time since he could remember.
The Spence's took the Mass Pike, which was the best route to the Gorman's house, and they couldn't have picked a better day. Mr. Spence sped down the pike, and Mrs. Spence copiloted. Carter viewed both of his parents from the back seat. His father fought the tax-season fatigue, which burdened him every year. Some weeks he would put in 75 hours, barely returning his own taxes before the deadline. One year he actually missed the deadline, which he still got ribbed about to this day.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Desert Son by Glenn Maynard. Copyright © 2014 Glenn Maynard. Excerpted by permission of Black Rose Writing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
