Friday Fictioneers 100 Word Story: Memorial

Memorial

This is where Calvin died. I couldn’t bear to tow it away, it looked too much like a memorial. I put a fence round it just in case someone thought they might steal a truck, even though now it’d never run. The rust has grown to join the blood stains; hardly any of that Robin’s Egg Blue left.

He didn’t need to die. That bastard Sheriff told Toothless Mike that Calvin had ratted on him just so Mike would kill him, and he did. Right here in my front yard, spread over the hood, blew his head right off. Shit.

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38 comments

    • Thanks, Doug. Basically a true story. Calvin did indeed get shot to death in our front yard, only we had moved away, there was no truck and he wasn’t shot in the head. The sheriff was a bastard. Not intentionally hard-boiled; I was just thinking the way people speak there.

    • Thanks QS. I read yours and left a comment about it being Southern Gothic but the comment isn’t there — having big internet problems today. Anyway, I called mine Northern Gothic but it isn’t really that gothic…

  1. Thanks, Craig. That may have been me – I’ve been having unending internet/router/modem problems and my teeth are definitely gritted. That is, however, the way those mountain country people talk, at least in my experience. Thanks!

  2. Thanks, Joe, especially since I like Justified very much. I love Southern accents and that whole manner of speaking, the hybrid vigour of combining African and British, especially Scottish, influences. My story is largely true, but it comes from Northern California, not the South. Although, Hank Williams Jr., in his song A Country Boy Can Survive, reeled off a list of Southern towns – and a few Northern California ones like Marysville, Yuba City, etc.

  3. Wow. A true story, told from the countryboy side of you, Carlos. Has a good – authentic feel. Possibly because it is authentic. Too bad none of those rednecks up there had the same feelings. Too bad they were all so stupid, they let poor Calvin, an outsider, die for their worthless souls.

    • Thank you, Irene. The pickup truck has become a potent symbol, hasn’t it? Of country life and all that goes with it, like the drunk driving you focus on in your story.

    • Then the story worked, I guess. I always liked the real Calvin, felt he had a good soul. The sheriff probably felt he was getting rid of two lowlifes in one move, getting Calvin killed and then sending his killer to prison. He was so wrong, but many people would go along with him.

    • Thank you so much, Charles! I think this story has gotten more response than any of my others, perhaps because it is basically a true one. Truth is stranger than fiction, as they say.

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