The Break - Chapter 35

Chapter 35 As Ronnie and Annie walked hand and hand away from GM place, they did not have a specific destination. They simply wanted to spend time together. They walked in silence for a few minutes. It was as if they needed to feel each other presense before they would be able to talk about it. The it they needed to talk about was where they were headed. They both knew how they felt about each other. Addtionally, they were fairly positive how the other felt. The decision they were about to make was what they were going to do about it. Just as Ronnie was about to break the ice, he was interupted. "Feel the need for weed, eh?" A passerby said quietly, but loud enough for Ronnie and Annie to hear. The entire eight seconds that the man waited for a response, he looked around nervously. It seemed like the first time he had ever asked anyone the question. "No thanks, dude." Ronnie responded with a little chuckle. He and Annie shared an amused look. It wasn't everyday that some one walks up to you and asks if you would like to purchase drugs. "C'mon everyone from the states wants BC bud." He continued. "That's why your here, eh?" "No, sorry." Ronnie continued. "Where the hell were you when I used to smoke, dude." The statement took the would-be sales person completely off guard. It was as if he couldn't comprehend the fact that some one that had once indulged in herbal pleasure could ever give it up. "No shit, you quit smoking?" He asked as he stated at Ronnie in disbelief. "Why?" "Huh? You taking a survey or something." Ronnie asked sarcastically. "No, I just never met anyone that quit before, eh." He responded incredulously. Once again, Ronnie and Annie looked at each other. Ronnie saw that Annie was smiling. It was such a surreal situation, that they were both greatly amused by it. It was as if ridculusness of the situation was allowing them to relax and feel more comfortable with each other. Annie gave him a smile and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, why not? “It’s true.” Ronnie said. “Some people have quit. It messes up my playing.” “Come again. Playing?” He asked still unable to fully process the heresy he was hearing. “Yeah, I’m in a band.” Ronnie responded. “A band, eh.” The man continued. “Have I ever heard of you?” Both Ronnie and Annie found this question particularly humorous. “Any idea how funny that sounded?” Ronnie asked the man. “What? Oh, yeah.” He responded. “Sorry, I mean. What band?” “The band’s called Ratdick.” Ronnie said. “We’re playing ...” But the man wasn’t listening any more. He was searching the other side of the street as if he was looking for some one. Suddenly, his eyes landed on their target. “Hey, Hanzie.” He yelled as he cupped his hand around his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice. “Hanzie, come here. This guy is from Ratdick. “Oh, so you have heard of us?” Ronnie asked slyly. “Heard all about you.” The man responded jovially. “Hanzie and I got tickets.” Just as he said it, Hanzie joined them. “Hey, it is you.” Hanzie said. Then he turned to his friend. “Yo, Mac, this is the lead singer I told you about.” Hanzie’s loud pronouncement was heard by several others nearby. They walked over to see this singer Hanzie had been ranting about all day. “I seen you guys in Seattle last night.” Hanzie declared louding to ensure that everyone heard. “It was kick ass. You guys really rock.” Soon several other passers by stopped to see what was happening. Soon, several people starting asking Ronnie questions. Quickly, this was escalating beyond the humorous little interlude it started to be. Ronnie felt the growing crowd crushing in on him, but he couldn’t see a way out. Annie sensed Ronnie’s unease. Free from the focus of attention on her, she was able to able to see an exit from their situation. “This is great.” Annie said loudly interrupting a questioner. “But we have a dinner reservation, right Ronnie.” “Uh, right...” Ronnie stammered. Annie took him by the arm and pulled him toward an alley. Hurrying to get away from the crowd, Annie began laughing. She continued to laugh until the exited the other side of the alley. “What’s so funny?” Ronnie asked. “Nothing is funny.” Annie explained. “Just a release. Oh my god! Is that what it feels like?” “Huh?” Ronnie asked. “Is that the feeling you get when you are playing?” Annie asked. “With all those people watching?” “Well, yeah ... I guess so.” He responded. “But that got a little creepy, ya know.” “Not for me, but then again not everyone was looking at me and asking all those questions.” Annie continued. “The energy that built up was just awesome. It’s weird.” “I know.” Ronnie said. “At a show, it’s like I ... well ... I mean ... I like expect it. But today, shit. That’s never happened before.” For a moment, they paused and looked deeply into each other’s eyes. “It was kinda cool.” Annie said absently without looking away from Ronnie. “Yeah...cool.” He said without knowing that the words had left his mouth. After a pause, he said what he really meant. “I love you.” He saw the jump in her eyes when she heard the words. It was doubly intense because she knew he meant it. She opened her mouth as his lips descended to hers. They kissed long and deep right there on the street. “Hmmmm.” Annie moaned appreciatively. “That was nice.” “Yeah, it was.” Ronnie said. “I am so glad you are here.” “Me, too.” Annie said. “And I meant that for both. I’m glad to be here and I love you, too.” They kissed again. “I’m hungry.” Annie giggled when their lips parted. “And thirsty.” “Me, too.” Ronnie responded. “And I meant that for both.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As soon as he could, Schneider hurried off to the meeting place. His commanding officer would be waiting. Schneider hoped he would understand. Leaving any sooner would compromise the mission he had to see that. The nervousness was building inside him. Schneider began to feel himself slipping away. Then the strong voice inside began to tell him to suck it up. Come on, listen to that voice he told himself. Choking back the bile in his throat, he knew there was only one way yo go - forward. A soldier never stops. If you stop, your dead or worse. Good things don’t come to those that hesitate. He learned that at basic. He lived it in Vietnam. He suffered unimaginable pain and heartache when he ignored his training in the past. It would not happen on this mission. This mission was moving forward and he would complete it. Whatever it was. Hustling through Stanley Park, he saw his commanding officer sitting at the designated park bench. Even though he had never been in Vancouver before, Schneider knew the city well. Since their first meeting, Schneider had not slept for more than two hours a stretch. Commandeering Ronnie’s computer while the others slept, he spent hours electronically reconnoitering the path they would be taking over the next three weeks. The first thing he had done was study the general location of every where they were going. Then he would dig down to the most minute detail possible for each of their stopping points. His mind was as sharp as it had been in years. One of his greatest skills was his ability to read a topographical map and instantly understand the actual geography of the area. Actually, when he was in the Army he was recognized one of the most talented individuals in this regard. Just as Schneider was about to walk directly to report, a thought struck him. Instantly, he saw his path. Silently, he started to circle around behind his mentor. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. He was on the exact corse he should take according to his training. It was direct from the front nor was it directly from the rear. It was from the side that had a little rougher terrain giving the target a false sense of security that an attack wouldn’t come from that direction. However, that is what he was taught to do. It is what his commander would expect him to do. As he began to plan a different route, the thought stuck him that his commander would know what he was thinking. Should he do what the training called for or should he change routes. Now he understood the chess match. He knew his commander chose this particular bench as a test. The realization almost froze him in his tracks. But once again, it came down to the training. Move and move now. Schneider made his decision. It took him several more minutes to get in position. This move never would have worked in the day time or on a night with more than half a moon. Luckily, it was late in the evening of a new moon. His current position was twenty five feet directly in front of his commander and he knew he hadn’t been detected. Then he saw his opportunity, his commander turned his head slightly to the heavy underbrush to his right. Before Ian knew it, Schneider was sitting on the bench next to him. He was completely taken aback for the second time today. “Hello, sir.” Schneider said confidently without appearing cocky. “Evening, soldier.” Ian said genuinely pleased that his soldier had recognized the test and excelled at the execution. “Nice work.” “Thank you, sir.” Schneider responded. “You’re late.” Ian said returning to his stern tone. “Respectfully, sir.” Schneider started. “I am not late. My orders were to meet you here when I was able to do so without arousing the suspicion of the civilians. I came as soon as the rehearsal ended.” Quickly, he consulted his watch. “Which was exactly thirty-three minutes ago, sir” Schneider stated crisply. Ian smiled. This was going much better than he could have expected. His man had travel a little over three miles on foot and staged a better than text book approach to a target. Then it hit him. It was imperative that he keep this weapon under control. Frank was dangerous and not just to the general public. He was dangerous to Ian. Even though he was getting older, Ian wasn’t sure if he was a good as Frankie was when he was in his prime. It was a startling revelation. He, who had fought the best of the NVA, survived twenty years in the gulag, fought the drug wars in Afghanistan, embarrassed the Russians in Chechnya, had met his match in a stoner-nut case of his own creation. “Right.” Ian agreed authoritatively. “Keep up the good work. Did you pick up the package?” “Yes, sir.” Schneider responded. “Additionally, I have secured the other materials so that they will not be discovered at our next border crossing or inadvertently by one of the civilians.” “Good work..” Ian said. “Any news on logistics?” “Yes, sir.” Frankie responded. “We have additional dates scheduled in California and an appearance on “The Tonight Show”. “Excellent. Excellent.” Ian nodded his head approvingly. “These boys are making a name for themselves.” “Yes, sir.” Schneider agreed. “If I may, sir?” “Feel free, soldier.” Ian granted. “Any word on the mission, sir?” Schneider asked tentatively. “I mean, what’s the target.” “All in due time, soldier.” Ian said soothingly. “All in due time.” <<< Chapter 34 More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

My Regards: Neil Young version

thepoetryman posted a link on his site to Neil's new album Living with War. Being that Neil is one of my favorites, I decided to follow the link. Surprisingly, I found that you can listen to whole ablum there. Funny, thepoetryman, story blook and I are all Neil fans. Another reason I am glad I followed the link is that I found out Neil has a MySpace account. You know what's coming. I shot Neil a quick email. Here it is: Neil, First off, I am a complete oddball. But if you read this, than that wil become evident. It sounds pretty cheeseball, but I really do believe that we don't always take the time to let other's know what they mean to us. Even though we don't know each other, I want to let you know how much you have impacted my life. I count you as one of my most respected artists along with Kurt Vonnegut, Jimmy Page, Vincent Van Gogh and John Steinbeck. There are many others. But even though I know better, I feel the five of you have been speaking directly to me. Since I can remember, I have wanted to be a writer. Six years ago, I finally sat down and wrote my first novel. I wrote 70-80 percent of in in two separate one week periods that I took off from work and wrote twelve hours a day. The entire time, I listened to Led Zeppelin and your records. It was very inspiring - thank you. Currently, I am blogging my second novel one chapter at a time. One of the topics I have addressed in between chapters are the people I admire. I am attempting to contact each of you to let you know that I appreciate your work. Keep being you! BTW: Can you imagine how cool it was for me to see you and Led Zeppelin being inducted into the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame on the same night. Getting to see you play with them was an amazing moment. Cheers, Paul Gavin aka Rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Unbelievable Story

Last night I decided to go out the bar for my semi-annual "Night of No Blogs". Of course, I chose to go to a karaoke bar. Actually, it was a Chinese restaurant that happened to have a karaoke machine which is very common in my part of the world. To tell the truth, that's usually where all the hot karaoke takes place in this town. Not being a regular at this particular venue, I was treated with the cold disdain that all first time singers experience when they walk up to the KJ and ask for a song book. The meaty cheeked, chain-smoking KJ looked me up and down with a sneer on her face as she reached for a book. Okay, so that was exactly the truth. She didn't have any cigarettes since smoking is not allowed in any public places in Washington - woohoo! Other than that, the prior description was accurate. Heading back to the table, I noticed the dagger like stares from the regulars. If you have never been a regular at a karaoke bar, then you may not understand the politics involved. Surprised? Trust me, I use to be a hardcore karaokist. Seriously - every Wednesday, Thursday and Friday I would go one of the three establishments that I patronized. I much as I hate to admit it, On Saturday and Sunday, I was the singing bartender. That's right, I actually worked in a karaoke bar. Sometimes, we would go to a bar outside of our regular haunts on Mondays and Tuesdays. Like all other serious singers, I had my list of songs, my favorite echo settings and of course, my karaoke arch-nemesis. That's right, enter Cheesmo. You see there is definitely a strict protocol at karaoke. There are just some things you do and there are several things you absolutely do not do. Should you break any of these unwritten laws, watch out. Because all hell is about to break loose. For instance, when you take the stage to sing a song that you have never sung before, you must announce this fact at least four times while waiting for the music to start. Or when you are stink up the place, you have to shrug your shoulders and act as if you are tempted to just walk off stage. It's all an illusion though. I say this because in the thousands of hours I spent in the game, I have only known one person to actually step away from the mic and sit down - and that was me. Trust me when I say, you do not want to hear me sing "Hotel California". Don't get me wrong, I may not possess a wide vocal range but the songs that are in my sweet spot - get ready to dance. My songs include, but are not limited to some Credence Clearwater Revival, Grand Funk Railroad, Georgia Satellites, Lynyd Skynyrd and Barry Manilow. That's right, my version of "Mandy" is legendary. I start with a crooning voice that would make Barry spin in his grave. Just when the crowd is sure that I suck and they begin to return to their table conversations, I break out my natural, Henry Rollins voice and completely split their eardrums. The entire bar comes to a halt and by the end of the song, every in the place is standing up in a fever pitch. Then, for my next song, I hit 'em with "Little Red Corvette". This time everyone is waiting for Henry Rollins to break out at any minute, but it never does. And you want to know why? Because by some freak of nature there are two songs that I can sing better than anyone - "Little Red Corvette" and "Roxanne" - I swear - I sound exactly like Prince for the former and Sting for the later. It leaves people dumbfounded. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, so last night I decide to kick it back up. I forgot to mention that my karaoke hay day was back in 1991 through 1994. Since then, I have actually participated approximately six times. A little rusty, maybe. But that's not why I am writing this blog. The reason I am writing, is that I saw one of the craziest things I have ever seen at karaoke last night. I've seen plenty. I've seen a girl with no bra continually lift her shirt up through a pathetic version of "Last Child". My opinion - no one should be allowed to sing that song at karaoke. Not even Steven Tyler. I've seen grown men cry at particular touching renditions of "Dixie Chicken". No idea why, because he had to leave before the song was over. I've seen a women hoisted onto a man's shoulders only to have her ponytail get wrapped into a ceiling fan. You busted me, I actually didn't see that one. Only reason was because she was on my shoulders - dead serious. Getting back to last night. There were two extremely drunk women that were dancing together for most of the evening. They continued getting more and more "friendly" as the evening worn on. Then I actually heard one woman say to the other, "I am not into women, but dammit bitch, you are turning me on." Right after that, the woman that so eloquently expressed her feelings was called up to sing. Her friend decided to join her on stage as her back up dancer. As the girl was dancing, she was lifting her legs in a Rockettes style movement. Suddenly, her pants began to visible darken in the area of her crotch. Soon, the singer turned to look the support she was getting from her dancer. Instantly, she noticed the problem and she said into the microphone, "Did you piss yourself." To which the other girl replied, "Yeah, so. You ever try it?". And that was it for me. Check, please. Damn, karaoke has changed. More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Caution: I'm seriously weird

It's true, I am weird. Just to prove it, I decided to continue my email nonsense with Keith Olbermann of MSNBC. So why did I pick Keith Olbermann when I barely ever watch his show. Well, I tell ya. When I do watch the show, I am entertained and informed. His brand of enter-news is excellent. Additionally, I started watching him on ESPN and I love the fact that he doesn't take himself to seriously. Lastly, I recent read an article titled The smartass vs. the bully. It was about the feud between Olbermann and Bill O'Reilly. There aren't many people on television I hold with higher disregard than that chump. This post is the first and last time I will use that name on my blog. Trust me, I have watched many hours of FoxNews. Why? Because when I am happy, I just need something to piss me off so that I don't think life is a bowl of cherries. Anyway, this tough guy browbeats everyone he brings on his show like he's Bad Leroy Brown. Then he gets the chance to interview George W. Bush and the guy just about pees himself on TV. Talk about softball questions. So, that is just scratching the surface of the reasons I can't bear the thought of the guy. So, here's my message to Keith Olbermann. As always, I will send three emails and post any responses I get. Yo Keith, Let's cut to the chase - I'm a nut job blogger that runs a little site called Misadventures of a 42-year old writer wannabe. As the name implies, I would love to be a writer but I can't get noticed. So, I decided to start blogging this novel call The Break. Anyway, one of the tools I use to hook readers is to send crazy emails to people that have made a career in TV, movies and publishing that also share an interest in writing and/or blogging. Guess what - your number came up - lucky you. Anyway, I'm not writing to talk about me. Although I could go on and on - trust me. I am my favorite topic. But I know your not interested so let's talk about you. First off, ESPN sucks - you made the right move. Second, the only thing that sucks worse than ESPN is Bill O'Reilly. Can't stand that guy. Keep it up until he goes away, I beseech you. Today must be your day. I'm letting you off with three paragraphs. Take the time to write me back and I might even start watching your show daily instead of whenever the clicked falls on the floor and it accidentally changes the station to MSNBC. By the way - what is up with CNN stealing you "Countdown" idea - jeez at least they coulda had the courtesy to change it a little. Be cool, Paul Gavin aka Rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Laying low

Last night, I managed to publish Chapter 34 of The Break. Funny thing that Cheesmo pointed out to me - I get many comments, but no one ever comments on the Chapters. Of course, I corrected Mr. Cheesmo. People have indeed commented on some chapters, but it has been a while. I did get a response from the webmaster at vonnegut.com. He gave me Mr. Vonnegut's agents name and address. One of these days, I may print out a copy of the message I sent and pop it into an envelop. Snail mail - I'm not sure I know how to do that. I'd really like to liven up this pathethic excuse for a post, but I really don't want to. So, I won't. I will make you wait until next time to enjoy the lively banter which flows with ease from the tips of my articulate fingers directly to you via electronic media. More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

The Break - Chapter 34

Chapter 34 Since Annie was arriving in a little less than hour, Schneider pulled the bus into the arrivals aisle at the Vancouver airport. Ronnie wanted to spend a little time alone with her, so he told everyone that they should go ahead, check into the hotel and get everything ready for rehearsal. He would wait for Annie at the airport and then they would catch a cab to the arena. Feeling the excitement build, Ronnie bounded down the steps of the bus. The last time he saw Annie was a little over three weeks ago. She was coming, so that must mean she had forgiven him for being such an ass to her. After not being with her for three weeks, he knew he never wanted to be away from her again. It would be up to him to show her she made the right decision. It took him a several minutes to locate the baggage claim which was the agreed upon meeting point. Glancing at the clock, he saw that he had forty-five more minutes to wait. Strolling around, he saw that the arrivals area looked pretty much like any other airport he’s been to. Since there wasn’t really anywhere to sit, Ronnie decided to lean up against the wall and watch the mini-dramas unfold in front of him. To his right, there was a large group of people that were holding balloons and a few signs to welcome a soldier home. On his left he saw an older couple peering intently at the door that Ronnie determined to be the exit from Canadian customs. As his eyes scanned the crowd for anything interesting, he jumped a loud sound. Tracking to the direction of the noise, he saw a very large man bent over trying to retrieve his matched luggage from the pile on the floor. His girth, combined will his ill-fitted business suit, was preventing him from making real progress. Each time he bent over, the cloth of his trouser stretched to its capacity. As soon as he managed to grasp the overnight bag, his laptop bag would slide down his arm, hit the bag and knock it out of his hand. Then he would stand up, fling the laptop back over his shoulder, adjust his pants and try again. Soon, Ronnie went from finding this humorous to really feeling bad for the guy. Deciding to help, he made his way over. “Here, let me give you a hand.” Ronnie said in a helpful tone. The man turned toward Ronnie. When he saw his long hair, old t-shirt and ratty jeans, he frowned noticeably. “I got it.” The man responded indignantly. “You sure?” Ronnie asked taken aback by the man’s attitude. “I said, I got it.” The man snapped loudly. “You got a hearing problem?” “Knock yourself out.” Ronnie said as he shrugged his shoulders. As he turned to walk leave, he noticed a man quickly look away. It was obvious that he had been watching Ronnie. It was almost as if he was caught off guard as Ronnie by the man’s reaction. He hadn’t expected Ronnie to turn around that quickly. Although he looked as if he were in his late sixties, the man looked solid, well muscled. It seemed to Ronnie that he had seen the man before, but he didn’t know anyone in Canada. Just as he was trying to place the man, his phone rang. “Hello.” Ronnie answered. “Ronnie, it’s Randy.” The voice said. “How ya doing? “Great, Randy.” Ronnie responded. “How bout you?” “Unbelievable, my very talented friend.” Randy said cheerfully. “Unbelivable. Have I got some news for youse?” Ronnie return to the spot he occupied prior to attempting to help the friendly stranger and leaned up against the wall. “Sup?” He asked. “You are about to hit the big time, buddy.” Randy replied. “Whaddya mean?” Ronnie asked as he stood up straight. He felt the tingling of the rush of adrenaline brought on by the excitement in Randy’s voice. Having known Randy for almost a year, Ronnie knew when he was being the phony A&R man and when he was truly excited. Right now Randy could barely contain himself. "I managed to book you five gigs in California." Randy replied. "Five more?" Ronnie asked. "Yeah, but that's not the best part." Randy bragged as he snjoyed build the suspense. "I got you on Leno." "The Tonight Show?" Ronnie asked very excitedly. "No shit?" Randy was on top of the world. This band was on fire, everyone wanted them including TV. That meant they were now officially a goldmine. It was Randy's attention to milk them for all he could get. The unbridled excitement from Ronnie was exactly the reaction he was looking for. Until now, Ronnie had the edge in the negotiations. But that reaction told Randy that Ronnie might be a little star struck. If that was true, Randy would have the upper hand. He knew it and he planned to use it to his advantage. These guys were a flash-in-the-pan, but they were going to generate cash. Randy planned on taking a very large cut of that for himself. “Uh…that is huge.” Ronnie said as he thought through his initial reaction. “But I am going to have to talk to the guys.” “What’s to talk about?” Randy said somewhat irritated. “It’s the fucking tonight show. It’s what you have been working for.” Ronnie paused for a minute. They had discussed making it big and all of them agreed that they wanted to make some money, but none of them really wanted to be famous. Watching what happened to Pearl Jam and even worse what happened to Kurt Cobain was in all of their minds. Maybe because of where they came from or who they were as people, they understood exactly what Eddie Vedder meant when he said he didn’t want to be a rock star. They weren’t a reincarnation of an eighties hair band. They were musicians and they never wanted to loose artistic control over their music or be slaves to a record company. “Maybe.” Ronnie said. “We like playing music, but I’m not sure any of us want to be rock stars.” This statement did not sit well with Randy. Not at all. He had spent months developing this band and he had driven them to the brink of making serious money. After all of that, there was no way he was going to let them piss away his opportunity at a huge windfall. This was his career. The record company had assigned him to this band because they had very low expectations. All his work had not gone unnoticed. If these guys made it, the president of the record himself promised Randy some big name acts. No, he would not, could not allow them to mess this up for him. “Hey buddy, come on.” Randy said with false cheer as he bit back on his anger. “Don’t get me wrong Randy.” Ronnie explained. “I’m not saying we aren’t going to do it. Just saying we’re a band and we make all the decisions as a group.” “I trust you are going to steer them in the right direction.” Randy said as his anger receded now that Ronnie hadn’t totally nixed the idea. “We’ll talk about it and I’ll let you know.” Ron repeated. “I have a feeling everyone will be up to it, but we do have some things to talk about.” Now that was music to Randy’s ears. He finally had the kid talking sense. Then, he made a huge miscalculation. “Now your talking, buddy.” Randy said in a very relieved tone. “I was thinking I might have to remind you that we have a contract.” It was Ronnie’s turn to get angry. He didn’t want to blow an opportunity, but he knew he had to keep Randy in his place. Randy had to understand that they were the talent and without them there was no album, no tour, no Leno. “Not for this, we don’t.” Ronnie reminded him. “Our contract is for one album and a support tour consisting of fifteen gigs extendable on mutual agreement. We agreed to do the five additional shows, but this is the first time you offered us more.” There was a pause on the other end. Randy was reeling. Hearing the tone in Ronnie’s voice made him shudder. It wasn’t that he sounded angry, he just sounded decisive. Any gains he had made to swing the negotiations in his favor had evaporated with a single ill-conceived statement. “Your deal, remember?” Ronnie asked not waiting for a response. “We wanted a three album deal with unlimited support, but you wanted to take it slowly.” Ronnie was on fire. Once again, watching his father had paid a huge dividend. No matter how angry he was, he wouldn’t say the wrong thing. But he did need to put a stake in the ground right now. “So, Randy.” Ronnie said matter-of-factly. “Don’t ever pull that “We have a contract” bullshit with me again. We’re hot right now. You wouldn’t have been able to get on Leno if we weren’t. That means there are other labels out there that would be interested in us. Don’t make me pick up the phone – understand.” Knowing his position was untenable, Randy wanted to back off this as quickly as possible. “Hey, easy there big fella.” He said jovially trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m taking care of you. It’s all good. You talk to the guys and get back to me. You know, it’s all good.” “Okay, okay. As long as we understand each other, this will work out for all of us.” Ronnie said in a tone that served as a reminder that he could hold his own. “It’s going to be awhile. I am picking up a friend at the airport and then we have rehearsal scheduled. I’ll get back to you around nine tonight, cool?” Somewhat relieved that he hadn’t totally blown it, but still upset with himself because of his gaffe, Randy had no choice but to accept Ronnie’s proposal. “Cool. Talk to you then.” Randy said and then he hung up. As Ronnie closed his flip phone, he felt good. He was really starting to get the hang of this. This was the first time that he handled himself without the slightest twinge of anxiety. Before and after the first face-to-face with the record company, Ronnie had to visit the restroom for a quick stomach purge. Now, the only twinge in his stomach was hunger pains. He realized he hadn’t eaten since before noon. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he still had forty minutes before Annie arrived. He began scanning the arrivals to see if there was anywhere that he could grab something to eat. To his surprise, he saw the same well muscled man, moving quickly away from him. It seemed to Ronnie that the man was trying hard not to be noticed. He kept dodging in front of people, pillars and anything else that seemed larger than he was. Since he had time, Ronnie decided to follow the guy just to see what he was up to. The man glanced over his shoulder and saw Ronnie following him. Upset with himself for being noticed, Ian went into stealth mode. How could he let an amateur spot him? “Christ, I must be getting old.” He thought to himself. Ducking his shoulder down to the right, Ian sped around a post. With the quickness of a much younger man, he ducked low and sped behind the row of pay-per-use luggage carts. When he got to the end of the carts, he paused momentarily and then he saw a family with an overfull cart. Instantly, he sprung into action. Without the family noticing, he used them as a shield. In seconds, he was behind Ronnie. After seven more seconds, he was out the exit and into the first cab in the taxi rank. Walking through the maze of people, Ronnie suddenly realized that he couldn’t see the man any more. He stopped and looked around. The man had simply vanished. Ronnie shrugged and returned to his quest for some food. Looking through the window, he saw the face of the man he had been tracking in the back seat of a cab. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ronnie and Annie walked into the dressing room with their arms around each other waist. “Isn’t that just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” Pete teased. “Bite me, Pete.” Annie said. “Whoa, I like her already.” Big Ron said with a chuckle. “Bustin’ Pete’s ball right off the bat.” Ronnie smiled. He forgot that his Dad didn’t know anything about Annie. Such as, she used to work with Pete and had always known how to handle him. “That’s what I thought the first time I met her.” Ronnie added. “When she put ole Petey right in his place.” “Yeah, I’m still a little pissed about that one.” Pete said jokingly. The introductions were made and the travel band of gypsies became nine. Annie instantly like Emily, but something about Chelsea told her to watch out for her. Meeting Ronnie’s Dad for the first time was pretty strange given the circumstances. Rarely do people due justice to their family when describing their kin. In the case, Ronnie could not have done a much better job. “All right, enough of this love fest.” Pete said. “We playin’ or what?” “Hang on a sec.” Ronnie interrupted. “I have some important news from Randy.” “What’s up with that fag?” Pete said instantly regretting his choice of words. “Uh, sorry dudes…you know…” “Fuck Pete, if we got pissed every time you said something stupid we’d pissed every time you opened your mouth.” Ass said with a wink. Ass gave Ban a slap on the back and he responded with a smile. Pete always did find a way to say the wrong thing, but none of them held it against him. They knew who he was and they liked him anyway. Just like he liked them in spite of their faults. “Listen up.” Ronnie retaking the initiative. “They have five more gigs for us in Cali if we want them.” “Let’s play.” Pete said enthusiastically. The other two nodded their heads in agreement. There was absolutely nothing they would rather be doing the traveling around playing. “Hang on.” Ronnie cautioned. “There is one additional factor.” “Yeah, what’s that?” Pete asked. “The Tonight Show.” He said. “Randy got us a spot on Leno.” The room simply erupted. The conversation was impossible to track. Ronnie felt his head spinning trying to keep up with what everyone was saying. He needed it to stop. Just as he was about to scream for everyone to shut up, he was preempted. “Hold up.” Big Ron boomed in an authoritative voice. “Let him finish.” Silence. “K, remember how we all talked about how big we wanted to be?” Ronnie began. “We all agreed we’d rather play than to be rich and famous.” “Fuck that.” Pete stated strongly. “I wanna be fucking famous as hell.” “Ronnie’s got a point …” Ass started. “Dude, if we go on Leno do you have any idea how much pussy we are going to get.” Pete continued. Ever so slightly, many of the eyes in the room turned to Chelsea. The anger was unmistakable. Of course, Pete’s eyes didn’t glance in her direction. “Jesus, dude.” Ben said. “I think what Ben’s trying to say is,” Ass added. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?” “What?” Pete asked innocently. All his three band mates could do was to shake their heads back and forth. They continued to discuss the pros and cons of the opportunity. Other than Pete, each of the other three was torn between living within their current arrangements and the thrill of hitting it big. All of them had imaged being a rock star, but those fantasies usually only included the fun stuff. In practical terms, the daily grind of being famous was not at all appealing. “Not saying we are going to be pop culture icons,” Ronnie said finally. “But Jesus, Brittany Spears can’t even drive down her driveway without people taking her picture.” “Shit, dude.” Pete said. “We’re not going to be Brittany Spears, but we might be Bad Religion. I’d like to give that a shot.” “I think I agree.” Ass chimed in. “Yeah.” Ben agreed. “Dad, any thoughts?” Ronnie asked. “Watch your ass and don’t let’em get between you, cause they’ll try. Big Ron warned. “In order to keep you in line, they’ll go after you and Pete. They’ll do anything…anything.” The boys thought for a moment. “What makes you say that, Mr. Harrison?” Pete asked. “Cause it’s exactly what I would do.” Ron responded without hesitating. “From what Ronnie said about the conversation and how he negotiated your last deal, this Randy guy knows Ronnie’s running the show. To regain the advantage, he is going to go after the one that has the most talent and the most desire to be famous.” “That’s cold blooded.” Pete said. “Exactly.” Big Ron said. Then he turned to Ben and Ass. “You know I think you guys are the tightest rhythm section I’ve ever seen. It’s not that I think Pete is that much more talented than you, it’s just lead guitar…” “No worries.” Ass said. “There’s a reason we’re in back. Ben nodded in agreement. After a few moments of looking at the sober expressions, Ronnie asked the question again. “So, were doing it, right?” He asked. All nodded in response. “Pete, we’re cool.” Ronnie continued. “We’ll be cool as long as we remember, right.” “Fuckin’ A, dude.” Pete said. “Can we play now?” “Oh, yeah.” Ronnie agreed and they all headed out toward the stage. The boys started out roughly. All of their thoughts were focused on the conversation that just ended. Wondered what it was going to be like to be famous. Wondered if they would actually be famous from just one television show. Wondered if they could keep it together. “Dudes.” Ronnie said in disgust. “We know, dude.” Pete said. “Let’s kick “Debbie”. Without hesitating, Ronnie started it off. When the others jumped in, the explosion blew the thoughts from their minds. Without interruption they played song after song for the next forty-five minutes. None of the four spectators could see how they decided to play the next song. It was the fourth time Emily had seen them play together and they had never played the same songs back to back that she could recall. Annie stood between Emily and Big Ron. She was the only one that noticed Schneider slip out. She was glad he left. Schneider gave her the creeps and she could never understand why Ronnie was friends with him. He was so old and such a freak. But that was just the way he was. She actually liked the fact that he could see past what others couldn’t. Finally, they took a break. “Whew, gimme a little baby.” Pete said to Chelsea. Emily went over to talk with Ben and Ass. While Annie and Big Ron chatted with Ronnie. This seemed to be the most comfortable set of groups. All the boys drank in liquids as quickly as they could. The ferocious playing produced gallons of sweat that needed to be replaced. After a few minutes, Ronnie was back on stage. “Let’s do two more and call it.” Ronnie said. “Hey, I had an idea when I was watching you.” Big Ron interjected. “May I?” “Sure, Dad.” Ronnie said a little tentatively. “I was thinking, you guys are in Canada and Ass is a hell iof a drummer.” Big Ron said. “Why not start of with a Rush song. You know, honor the artists from the country you’re playing in.” “Neil Peart.” Ass said enthusiastically. “Hell, yeah.” “What song?” Ronnie asked warming to the idea. “Spirit of the Radio.” Big Ron said with a smile. “Thought it might be appropriate.” Before he finished, Pete was playing an amazingly accurate version of the guitar intro. Ben fiddled his bass and found the rhythm. Ass just sat anxiously waiting for Ronnie to okay the song. He was burning to play it. “Not sure I can sing it.” Ronnie said. “Yeah, ya can son.” Big Ron encouraged. “Just make it your own.” “Let’s do it.” Ronnie said. Instantly, Pete stopped and started over at the beginning. The others joined in where appropriate. They played it through and it was decent. Ronnie faked most of the lyrics, but he felt confident with the melody. They could play this. “Need to get the lyrics from the Internet, but we can do this.” Ronnie said. They played it through three more times. When they felt they had it, they broke for the evening. Ronnie could not wait to be alone with Annie. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and hustled her out of the arena. <<< Chapter 33 More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Now it's the FCC

Now I have proof that I can share with you that I am being monitored by the Federal Government. As I told you, I track all the users that visit my site. I use a free stat tracker called, interestingly enough, statcounter.com. That is what provides my hit counter on the lower left panel. The day after the attack that ravaged Blue, my favorite laptop. I checked my stats and found the following entry: Click on image for a larger view. In case you can't read it, it says that the person visiting the blog was doing so from: gatekeeper4.fcc.gov (Federal Communications Commission) District Of Columbia, Washington, United States, 0 returning visits There are four entries, meaning they visited four different times. That's right, I got not one, but four visits from someone at the FCC. What is the FCC doing checking out my blog? Quite a conundrum, unless you factor in the IBCC. That's right, the IBCC is not just interested in checking out blogs. They are actually in cohoots with other federal agencies. You laughed when I told you that this conspiracy reached to the highest levels of our government. Now, I am waiting for the visit from the Department of Homeland Security. If my blog ever goes silent, you know where the blame lies. More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

The return of Cheesmo

Some of you may have noticed that Cheesmo is finally back. In case you are wondering who Cheesmo is, he is my blogging arch-nemesis. We have been doing battle long before blogging ever came to be. Now, he just has one more tool in his formidable arsenal to use against me. Oh, you think I sound paranoid, do you? Well, get a load of this little comment that he left on my posting that exposed the IBCC for what it is. ”REB, You may find some of the IBCCs actions unappealing but you need to quit bashing them. The IBCC was created in article 23b of the Patriot Act to aid in intelligence gathering about possible terrorists and others who threaten the American way of life. These are troubled times and troubled times call for elevated defensive measures. You need to learn to enjoy your American freedoms in a less subversive way.” Ha! Now that's a laugh. "Don't worry Rebeleyeball, the IBCC is just looking out for all of you bloggers". I have heard this drivel in the past and I will not believe it and I beseech you to not pay attention to this rationalization of the evil - yes, the evil that the IBCC has perpetuated on the blogosphere. I told you that they are sneaky and that their slimy tentacles reach to the highest levels in our government and all the governments of all the G-8 plus Russia countries. This is very bad for us. You have no idea what they are capable of doing. Although I managed to move off the blogging "grid" as it were, their agents found me. I knew it was only a matter of time, but I thought it would be weeks not days before their storm-troopers managed to ferret me out. Understand Darnell, I hold no ill will towards you for betraying the location of the Citidel. We all know you held out as long as you could. But their "dog handlers" can be very pursuasive. A word of warning, never let them take you. Once again I struck a small victory for all of in the blogoshpere, just by living through the ordeal. After a particularly heroic effort and the help of some very close allies, I was able to save all of the blogs and good number of the servers. Unfortunately, they did manage to strike a mortal blow against my longterm partner, my favorite laptop. I spent the better part of last evening and again today fighting to resuscitate my beloved, blue Toshiba. But alas, it was not meant to be. Oh, dreaded data loss. This truly has been a high price to pay indeed, just to blog in the manner I wish to blog. Whoa is me. Now I am chained to this desk in this rat hole that doubles as my oasis from the peering eyes of the IBCC. But you see Cheesmo, no matter how depressed I may be completely drained from the battle, I will never give up, never surrender to this cheap, demeaning organization that claims to be the unifier of bloggers. It is, in fact, dedicated to turning all blogs into “Blogs For Bush” or “The Ultra-Conservative” or “The anti-Lesbian Agenda”. They will attempt to destroy all that resist, first by “Swift Boat Veterans for Truth” smear tactics. Then if they fail there, they will come after you like they have come after me. Yes, Cheesmo even you should be able to peer through this thinly shrouded charade and see them for who the really are. The rest of you, do not despair. I am too good, too fast and far too funny to ever be taken by the likes of the IBCC and their legions of blind, fanatical zealots. We will make ourselves ready for any malevolent operation they manage to cook up in those dictatorial little brains of theirs. Let them come, I say. Bring it on! More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

The Break - Chapter 33

Chapter 33 At the last minute, Big Ron decided to send a car for Anita and Elena. It was the right thing to do. Instead of making them drive on unfamiliar roads looking for his remote home, he thought it would be better to have them arrive relaxed and refresh. Anyway, he had the car on retainer and he hadn’t used it at all this month. Big Ron always referred to his remote home as a little place in the mountains. But it was false modesty. He only said it because he enjoyed seeing the look on his guest’s face when they saw his estate. It truly was a magnificent place. Big Ron went out of his way to find a young, talented architect to design it. Sorting through all the candidates was a tedious task, but Big Ron forced himself to take his time. This was going to be his statement and he wanted to make sure it was a definitive one. Having a large amount of disposable cash made him a very desirable target for all the large agencies and Big Ron reviewed all of their proposals. Despite the slick presentations, they just couldn’t deliver what he was looking for. What he wanted could only be delivered someone hungry that wanted to use this design as the launching pad for his career. The man he selected turned out to be a man and a woman. They formed one of the best teams he had ever seen. Each complimented the other. Their arguments were rare, but spirited. When they did argue, they focused on the issue at hand, solved it quickly and then implemented the solution. The result was breath taking. The exterior was a complex mixture of glass and wood at fantastic angles. Although the exterior was truly remarkable, the interior humbled it. The use of light combined with the contrasting muted colors, generated a vibrant feel rarely present in residential dwelling. But the most striking part of the home was upon entry, visitors were greeted by forty foot vaulted ceilings cover with the finest teak wood completed the initial sense of wonderment. The entire house was impeccably decorated which enhanced the ambiance. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was also inviting and warm. This young team far exceeded even Big Ron’s greatest expectations. Anita and Elena were speechless as the car made its way down the three-quarter mile driveway and stopped in front of the house. Before the driver opened their door, Elena put her hand on Anita’s arm. “Nitti, I have never seen such a place.” Elena said awestruck. “Not someone’s house, anyways.” “This really is impressive.” Anita agreed. As the door swung open, they could see Ron walking down the stairs from the massive front door. “Welcome.” He said as soon as he could see the women. “To my humble.” “Not much about you is subtle, is it Harrision?” Anita asked as she stepped from the car. “Be nice.” Elena admonished her sister. “He is our host.” “That may be true.” Ron said. “But Anita is right, I’ve never been accused of being subtle.” The self-effacement did not go unnoticed. Anita saw Big Ron’s dichotomy. On one hand, here was the big successful business man with the country estate to prove his success. On the other hand, Big Ron careful managed exactly what he let people see. He definitely understood subtly and he knew exactly when to use it to his advantage. It was expert use of diversionary tactics. Since Big Ron was so skilled at it, most people didn’t even notice. But Anita was not most people. She felt a smile cross her face as she realized her reporter’s instincts were back. “Looks like you are glad you took me up on my offer.” Big Ron said to Anita. Not wanting to explain the real reason for the smile, Anita reacted quickly. “Very glad.” Anita said enthusiastically. “This place is gorgeous. And look at this view. It’s like sitting on top of the world.” Big Ron took it all in as though his was looking at the view for the first time through Anita’s eyes. It truly was an impressive view. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled and turned back to his guests. “Shall we go inside?” “Yes.” Elena said excitedly. “I can’t wait to see the rest of the house.” “Great, then follow me.” Ron suggested. “John will see that your bags get to your rooms.” The group walked up the staircase and entered the house. After he gave them the grand tour, he suggested they take a few minutes to settle into their rooms. “Elena.” Big Ron said. “You are welcome to anything in the house. You can go to the pool or go riding or you can stick with us.” Although it passed quickly, he saw the dark shadow in Anita’s eyes. He knew exactly what it meant. Not wanted to start off on the wrong front, Big Ron turned to Anita. “Unless you have another thought.” He added quickly enough that it seemed he meant to say it in the first place. “No, Elena.” Anita said, a bit surprised and pleased that Big Ron had included her. “You do what you want. “I here to listen to Mr. Harrison’s story.” Elena responded. “What’s with the Mr. Harrison?” Ron said. “My name is Ron.” There it was. One of Ron’s subtle moves. Anita saw how he watched Elena for a reaction and responded accordingly. Then it struck her that it was exactly the same move he had just used on her. Anita was very happy Elena was here. In that moment, she knew she had to keep Elena in the room with them during the interview. It would be much easier for her to pick up on Ron’s idiosyncrasies. Meaning, it would easier for her to see when he was bullshitting her if he was talking to Elena. Anita told herself that she needed to be careful. This Ron Harrison was an impressive man. It was obvious that he was very skilled and had an awesome presence. It would be very easy to be captivated by his charm and charisma. She wanted to get to the bottom of this story, but she wanted the truth, not the story that made him look good. Once again, she reminded herself that she was a professional and she had a job to do. “Right…Ron.” Elena said. “Let’s go into my study.” Ron said as he turned and led the way. The exchange served to reinforce Anita’s previous thoughts. She knew from Elena’s reaction that her sister was completely taken in by Ron. That was fine with Anita, Ron would continue to show his hand in his interactions with her. Anita would pay particular attention to his non-verbal communications when he was talking to Elena to ensure that he was being straight with her. The study was as well appointed as the rest of the house. But there was a difference in this room. It had Big Ron’s stamp all over it. The rest of the house may have been for his family and visitors, but this room was definitely for Ron. From the matching black, top-grain leather couch, loveseat and chairs to the oversized mahogany desk to the flagstone fireplace to the crystal decanters of scotch to the stuffed elk head to the Denver Broncos team autographed football from Super Bowl XXXII and Super Bowl XXXIII to the framed autograph photo poster of John Elway, this room was Ron’s. It screamed testosterone, but it also had the same warm, friendly feel as the rest of the house. The room mimicked its primary occupant. This room had been skipped on the grand tour, so this was the first time the women had seen it. Both were very impressed with it. Ron waved toward the leather furniture that was arranged in a circle around the most unique coffee table. “I think we’ll be comfortable in here.” He said. “Drink anyone? I’m going to have some scotch.” “That sounds good.” Anita said. “Do you have any tequila?” Elena asked. She saw the look on Anita’s face and felt as if her sister was judging her. “What?” Elena said. “I don’t like whiskey.” “No problem, Elena.” Ron said. “I have Patron, will that do?” “Oh yes.” Elena responded giddly. “Done.” Ron responded. Then he decided to test Anita. “Single malt or blend?” “I’ll have single malt.” Anita said recognizing the challenge she continued. “I don’t suppose you have any Macallan’s?” “Ah…a woman after my heart.” Ron said. “I do have an 1982 Grand Reserve, but I have something you may find amusing. It’s Ben Wyvis, 1965.” “Wow, Ben Wyvis ’65. I am impressed.” Anita said. “Very impressed.” Ron was taken aback. Not many people understood what they were being offered when he mentioned Ben Wyvis, but she seemed to appreciate it immediately. “Didn’t peg you as a scotch drinker.” Ron stated honestly. “How do you know so much about it.” “Scotch is the nectar of the gods.” Anita responded. “I spent one semester at the University of Edinburgh and I go to the festival every August…well… not so much lately.” Had it really been four years since she made it to the festival? After completely falling in love with the city, she and her roommate vowed to return every August for the Edinburgh Festival. They had kept the commitment for seventeen years, until four years ago when Anita started making excuses. She knew that her roommate continued going, but Anita always seemed to busy. Beginning to see a pattern, she didn’t want to keep thinking about this now. “Ah…yes…The Festival.” Ron said. “I’ve only been there twice myself, but I’d love to go back.” “I think I might have to recommit to my vow.” Anita offered truthfully. Ron busied himself getting the drinks for his guests. “Patron for you.” He said as he handed the crystal snifter to Elena. “And Ben Wyvis for you.” “Thank you very much.” Elena said and took a sip. “Hmmm…now that’s tequila.” “Yes, thank you.” Anita added. “It is very generous of you to serve this.” “My pleasure.” Ron said suavely. Anita took a medium-sized drink of the 40 year old scotch. “It’s like heaven.” She said. "But I wouldn't expect anything less from a twelve hundred dollar bottle of scotch." When she took her second drink, she was flooded with pleasant memories of Scotland. It was very strange, for a good portion of the time she had spent in bed her thoughts often turned to Edinburgh. Now she was having a conversation about it. Could this be a coincidence? Anita didn’t believe in coincidences. She believed that everything had a reason. The whole conversation about Edinburgh convinced her of one thing. Someone had delivered Ron Harrison to her. The only possible reason was for her to make her comeback. She was onto the biggest story of the century. It was up to her to dig it out. Right here in this study, she was going to get the story. She was the best reporter in the country and she knew it. This was her opportunity to prove them all wrong. She couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when she broke this story. Cord, Jim and especially that little bitch Bobbie, who she noticed had taken her position behind the anchor desk. For the first time since before it happened Anita truly felt like herself again. The burning desire, the need to prove herself, the absolute need to succeed, it was all there. Anita wallowed in it. Maybe it was the scotch that reignited the fire or maybe it was the scent of the story. Whatever it was, she was ready to go. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For the last three weeks, he had done everything possible to avoid human contact. But he was completely aware that there was no practical way to get from Central Asia to the United States without developing a network. He knew he was somewhere in Afghanistan, but he wasn’t sure where. As he dodged local militia, a plan began to formulate in his head. Dressed in Soviet issue fatigues, he could act as an army deserter from the occupation. It wouldn’t do him any good to be Russian though. The Mujahideen may be a little sympathetic to a Russian, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t kill him. No, it would be better if he was from an Eastern Bloc country. At first he thought he would adopt Bulgaria as his homeland. Then he struck a brilliant idea, instead of being from one of the elitist partners of the Soviet regime he should be from one of the oppressed territories that made up the Soviet Union. He decided that he would become a Chechnyan. It was a perfect cover. Although he didn’t know the language as well as he knew Bulgarian, he was sure he could pass. Any errors he made, he would make them in Russian. If he was called on it, he would blame his forced Russian education and the time he spent in the army. His confidence was bolstered by the fact that he was well versed in Islam. After practicing his cover for another week, he was ready to go. He allowed himself to be taken by a roving band of gunmen. They belonged to the militia of the local warlord. When he explained that he was a Chechnyan deserter, they immediately escorted him to the warlord. It didn’t take Ian long to endear himself to the warlord. Quickly he moved up in the ranks and became a very integral part of the opium smuggling operation. Not only was he establishing credibility, he was amassing a huge personal fortune. Originally, he had planned to get back to the United States as soon as possible. But when he began to hatch his plan of vengeance against the people that sentenced him to 20 years in hell, he realized it would take money to execute his plan. Everything was going according to plan until violence erupted in Chechnya again. His warlord had family ties to Hattab, the warlord that started this escalation in violence. Since Ian was a Chechyan, the sent him to lead a militia to try to take some of the pressure off Grozny by attacking the Russians from the surrounding country side. For almost two years, Ian led a magnificent campaign against the Russians despite his initial lack of knowledge of the terrain. It gave him so much pleasure to be getting back at his captors that he almost forgot about his unfinished business with the CIA – almost. Finally, he was allowed to return to Afghanistan. His battlefield experience had made him even more dangerous than he had been as just an ex-CIA field agent. Now he had the funds, the experience and the desire to wreck havoc on those that had betrayed him. He had a plan and the means to execute it. All he had to do now was return to the United States. <<< Chapter 32 Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Go Neil

Seems like I was Rebeleyeball-on-the-spot with my posting about Neil. Mr. Young made quite a stir today with the announcement of his new album "Living with War". Apparently, Neil is fed up with the war in Iraq and is advocating the impeachment of President Bush. It probably won't come as a great shock to you when I tell you that I was fed up with the war before we invaded Afghanistan. Suffice it to say that I agree with Neil in spirit. However, I really can't stomach the thought of impeaching Bush for two reasons. First, the only thing worse than Bush being President would be if Cheney was President. That sniveling, little weasel really gets on my last nerve. My apologies to all weasels for having disparaged your species by associating you with the Vice-Creep of the United States. Second, can we really impeach another President? Really? Good gravy. Not that he doesn't deserve it, because I do believe the actions of Mr. Bush do rise to the level of High Crimes and Misdemeanors - possibly even War Crimes - but if I say that I will get accused of being a "Liberal" - wait a second, I am a Liberal. It's just that because the Republicans ridiculously decided to impeach Clinton for "lying to the American people" it now seems as if taking that course with our current liar...uh...President is partisan retribution instead of the proper course of action. Here's my thought. We suffer through until November 2006, vote for a Democratic Congress - don't even get started on how they have let "Liberals" and "Progressives" down - that's a story for another time. A-hem, then we get them to pull back the "wartime" powers currently being asserted, spend the next two years fixing the stuff that has been broken, perform a real investigation of everything Mr. Bush did "for the safety an protection of the American people", have a trial and send him to prison - real prison. I'm talking Attica or San Quentin or an equal beautiful federal facility. Throw him in with all the people he looks down on and see how his punk ass does standing on his own without the U.S. military doing his dirty work. Don't think he'd be saying "Bring it on!" to that, do you? I try to keep my political beliefs separated from my attempts to entertain you. Okay, so maybe I am a little more transparent than I am willing to admit. Just reading my fiction gives me away. Thank you for indulging me in my vain attempts to persuade the unpersuadable. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Getting yanked from Craig's List

As I told you in a previous post, I decided to really try to market my novel Web Site. I put a great deal of work into it. First, I changed the title from Progressing Rapidly Over Uneven Terrain to Web Site. Then, I had a professional graphic artist design a new cover. After that, I uploaded a new version to lulu.com. Then I bit the bullet and reinstated my Google Adwords campaign with a $3.50 per day budget. After a week, I reduced the budget to $2.00. The next step was to start the online promotion. I had to update my all the chapter's I published on my Progressing Rapidly Over Uneven Terrain blog here at blogger. Then I started a preview on my blog at lulu Next, I changed the template of all my blogs to drive traffic to Web Site. I even started blogging at MySpace.com to try to attract that audience. The last thing I did was earlier this week, I posted a classified ad on Craig's List for Denver. Here's the ad I posted: Web Site is the debut novel from Paul Gavin. It is a crafty who-done-it with many twists and turns. Set against a pornographic web site, this work is a mature look at the realities of this type of industry. For a Mature Audience. Preview Click here for Chapter 1 See What Others Have Said About Web Site: "I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was exciting, suspenseful, fascinating, and touching. There are lots of interesting characters, and Paul really allows us to get inside their heads and experience what they are feeling to the point that I found myself even sometimes empathizing with characters at moments when their behaviors were deplorable. I recommend this book to anyone that likes fiction unless they are easily offended by graphic descriptions of sexuality." "Web Site was a thoroughly enjoyable read. The content was entertaining as well as educational and eye-opening! The author evokes several emotions from the reader throughout the novel and keeps you guessing. I now feel enlightened about the secret and lucrative underground world of internet pornography. Looking forward to reading other novels by this author." "Awesome book! I felt like I really knew the characters by the end of the book. Can't wait to see what happens next!" "Web Site sucked me in during the first few pages... I literally could not put the book down! The characters were very well developed, and I enjoyed following each of them throughout the book. I loved how the different storylines came together and the ending was not what I expected. Great job!" "Great book! I was quickly drawn into the story lines and character development. I really enjoyed how it all came together. Looking forward to this author's next book!" Due to the graphic nature of the subject matter, parental discretion is advised. For more from this author, check out Misadventures of a 42-year old writer wannabe ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Personally, I think it was an absolutely fabulous advertisement. Every day after, I published a similar ad in the Books section of Craig's Lists sites in Dallas, San Francisco, New York, Singapore and Vancouver, BC . Today I received the following email: Your posting has been removed by the craigslist community. Several craigslist readers flagged it for the following reasons: SPAM: posting appears to have been posted too frequently, OR in too many categories, OR is being regarded as commercial spam. To advertise a business or service, please post under "services offered" The flagging system is a work-in-progress, with all the pros and cons of a democracy - Please post ideas for improvement in the feedback forum: http://forums.craigslist.org/?forumID=8 After reviewing your posting and our policies, if you are convinced that those flagging your post were mistaken, please feel free to repost. Sorry for the hassle! and thanks for your understanding. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- They tell you that you ad will run for forty-five days and that you shouldn't post another similar ad anywhere on Craig's List. Well, I find this to be a very silly rule. It just doesn't make sense to me. How often do you look at other cities when you are looking for a book. Even if you have the same ad, all people see is the headline. How can that offend the other Craig's List users? Don't get me wrong, I love Craig's List. In fact, I got my current job by answering an ad from the jobs section. It's also a free site. I am really amazed that Craig Newmark has done. It really is impressive. Not only that, however, that is about the most friendly form letter I received in a while. Since I understand that I violated the terms of use, I am not irritated that I got pulled. To tell the truth, the only thing that bugs me is that I got flagged as a spammer. Me, flagged as a spammer. Me, using my real name. Me, now on that list of spammers. The sound of the word is exploding in my head - Rebeleyeball is a SPAMMER!!! Three guys from Monty Python just danced through my family room singing "spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam..." Can't believe I'm tagged - tagged for life. I am sure this is going to be on my permanent record. What is the IBCC going to say about this one? Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

More on people I admire

After I posted my regards to Kurt Vonnegut, I realized that you may not have seen my previous posting about my inspirations. The reason is that I posted it on my short-lived political blog, "Left Over Right". I deleted the blog after just a few weeks because the only readers I seemed to attract were ignorant rednecks that preferred to reiterate the script from FoxNews rather than intelligently discuss the issues I presented. Anyway, here is my post about Neil Young: I am sitting here watching Neil Young on The Daily Show. Just seeing him up and about makes me feel good. He is just cracking me up. So, why am I writing a blog on this web site about Neil Young? What does he have to do with Politics? For me, a great deal. I share a little bit about myself with you her. I am the youngest of nine kids. Although I wasn't born until 1963, all five of my older brothers all became draft age during the Vietnam War. So my family was very attuned to what was going on in Southeast Asia. Every night, we watched the Evening News with Walter Cronkite and got to see the names of the soldiers that were killed in action that day. One of the ways to ease the tension during that time was to listen to music. My third oldest brother really liked "The Buffalo Springfield" and then Neil Young. I vividly remember listen to Neil's albums. "Everyone Knows this is Nowhere" came out in 1969. I asked my brother to play it over and over. Within a week, I knew all the words to "Cowgirl in the Sand". That song was the reason I learned to use a stereo. My brother got so sick of playing it for me, he taught me how to take the album out by the side, place it on the turntable, clean it with the brush and gently place the needle on the vinyl. Ever since then, I have been listening to Neil. Listening to Neil had a huge impact on my life. The words he sings, the structure of both the music and the lyrics and the tremor of his voice that speak directly to me. His songs made sense to me when I was six and they still make sense to me now. From the country sounds of "Heart of Gold" to the grunge of "Rockin' in the Free World" to the weird trance music of "Transformer Man", they make sense to me. The effect is much greater than the sum of the parts. Neil's songs are about more than music, they are about more than political statement, they are about a philosophy of life. There are other artists that have touched me in very similar way, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones, John Henry Bohnam, Kurt Cobain, Vincent Van Gogh, Kurt Vonnegut and John Steinbeck. Some of them are still doing it, some unfortunately passed before their time. All of these individuals made and continue to make positive impacts on the world. They have left important messages that we should all heed. Luckily for us, by using the permanent media available to them we can review their work over and over to remind us of the message. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

My regards to Mr Vonnegut

You know I am weird and most of you are probably thinking I might even be a little bit crazy. Just to reinforce that belief, I have another idea. You all know that the people I believe have had the greatest impact on my life, outside of my family, are Jimmy Page, Neil Young, Vincent Van Gogh, John Steinbeck and Kurt Vonnegut. I have decided to attempt to email these gentlemen and thank them. Well, all except Vincent and Mr. Steinbeck. We'll have to figure out how to get the message to them. "Phone Call with the Afterlife" Uh...Afterlife? Yeah, this is Paul Gavin. May I please speak with Vincent Van Gogh? Yes, the artist. How many Vincent Van Gogh's are there? Oh really, four hundred thirty-seven? Hmmm...I never would have guessed. Oh...he is? Great! Well then...Oh, hello Mr. Van Gogh. Right, Vincent. This is Paul Gavin, twenty-first century blogger...blogger...BLOGGER...One that blogs...a writer...almost. Yes, I just wanted to call you to thank you for your inspiration. No. Really. You truly were a genius and I love your work. My favorite? Starry Night. Really, hmmm. Never would have expected that. Anyway, I do have another question, but...Are you sure? Okay...do you need both ears in the afterlife. Sorry, you said it was okay. Well, sure. I said I was sorry. Uh...is John Steinbeck, twentieth century American Author of "The Grapes of Wrath" and "East of Eden" around? He is? Okay...I'll hold...getting a line to the afterlife is a bitch. Really, Vincent - thank you, bad jokes aside, you really mean a lot to me and I just wanted you to know. No probs. He's back? Great. Hi, Mr. Steinbeck, this is Paul Gavin ... Props to Bob Newhart for inspiring the "Phone call with the Afterlife". Anyway, you get the picture. So, I got this idea and I started looking around. Turns out that all of my inspirations are very private people. I searched and couldn't find emails or contact information for any of them. I did locate an email for "Joe" on Kurt Vonnegut's web site. Here is a copy of the email I sent. Yes, I do send the emails. Why? You ask. How can I send emails to people I don't know? Why not? What could possibly happen? Other than getting served with another restraining order. (By the way - that's a joke. I've never had a restraining order against me). Joe, Although I was some what of a late comer to Mr. Vonnegut's work, I am a great admirer. I have always wanted to be a writer, but I never acted on the desire. That changed when I read "Jailbird" in 1998. Even though it took another two years for me to get started, I finally sat down and wrote a novel because of one line that I read in that novel. I believe the one line in "Jailbird" is the most eloquent thing ever written. Forgive me if I am not completely accurate with the following quote, but it was a borrowed copy that I actually returned for some unknown reason. But the essence and what I remember goes something like this - "the fighter plane took off and shredded the sky - it happens all time". After I read that, I felt what was in me and I knew I had to express myself with the written word. Because of the profound affect these words had on me, I was compelled to write and self-publish my novel, "Web Site" on lulu.com almost three years ago. Since then, I have become an avid blogger. Currently, I am blogging my second novel, "The Break" at "Misadventures of a 42-year old writer wannabe". Because I am grateful to those who have inspired me, I have written about this on my blog and I probably will write about it again in the future . The people I credit the most for inspiring me are Jimmy Page, Neil Young, Vincent Van Gogh, John Steinbeck and Kurt Vonnegut. Because your email was listed as the contact on vonnegut.com, I assume that you have some interaction with Mr. Vonnegut. I would like him to know how much his work has meant to me, so may I impose upon you to deliver this message to Mr. Vonnegut? Kindest Regards, Paul Gavin Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

MySpace is a weird place

Since I spend a good portion of my time seeking out weirdness and trying to figure out how to fit it into my story lines, it's not necessarily a bad thing that I think something is weird. Additionally, whenever anyone says "You're weird", I always respond "Thank you". Give it a try sometime. In fact, let's do an exercise. Everyone take a moment to acknowledge and embrace your own idiosyncratic weirdness...accept it...accept it...accept it...okay, long enough. Feels great, doesn't it? A couple of weeks ago, I set up a MySpace account. But I didn't do anything there until a couple of days ago. It has many cool features, but it gives me a weird vibe. It really seems like a cool concept, but it is almost like a popularity contest. Not that I am judging, because my whole reason for blogging is to try to get attention for my work. Which in turn means attention for me. Hmmmmm. As with blogger, I am Rebeleyeball on MySpace. If you are a member and you want to invite me to be your friend, I will certainly accept. It is cool that everyone on my space use pictures and their names (except me), so you feel like you get to know them. Of course, I don't have any friends there ~he wipes a tear from his eye but keeps typing through it~. Don't worry, this will remain my main blog and all chapters for The Break will be posted here. Any thoughts on Chapter 32? Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

So Chapter 32 anyone?

Finally, I am ready to release Chapter 32. I know that you have all waited with baited breath. Personally, I really like this chapter. It think it starts adding some depth to the girls and to Schneider. It seems like a long time since I posted a chapter and it has only been six days. In the mean time, I posted several other posts and did quite a few things to market. Marketing is unbelievable. It is so much easier for me to write stories about fictional people than it is for me to create copy that interests people enough to purchase my work. Why is that? Additionally, there is nothing more draining than putting forth a great deal of effort and getting mediocre results. I know, I know, I am writing because I enjoy it and that should be enough. But give me a freaking break, everyone wants validation. What could be more validating than selling product? Plus, I always have the words from the Texas Billionaire resounding in my ears "your audience will either buy your work, or not". Just wondering how long it is going to take to really get the ball rolling. It's only been three months and things really are rolling. But I'm not really known for my patience. However, I know these things take time so I am going to be able bide my time and wait for things to really get rolling. I'm not just blowing smoke. For instance, I am now listed as the 352,874 out of 1,163,026 blogs on Technorati - that's the top third of blogs listed there. I think that's pretty good. If you want to help me move up, link to me. Let's light this baby up! Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

The Break - Chapter 32

Chapter 32 As the bus rolled out of the ferry station, every one grew silent. It was a very uncomfortable stillness. Finally, a strange thought struck Big Ron. “Hey, Schneider.” Big Ron asked. “You gotta first name.” “Yeah, it’s Frank.” He answered sullenly. “People use to call me Frankie.” “So, Frankie Schneider.” Big Ron said comfortably. “Nice to meet you.” “Nice meet you, too.” Schneider said. “But it’s Frankie Johnson.” The other seven exchanged surprised looks. Ronnie couldn’t believe that in all the years he had known Schneider he had never asked his name. But the second time his father met him, he asked. Now, not only did they know his first name, they also knew that his last name was Johnson. “So where did Schneider come from?” Ronnie asked incredulously. “One Day at a Time.” Schneider responded. “What?” Ronnie asked completely confused. “The seventies sitcom?” Big Ron asked. “The one and only.” Schneider continued as a big smile formed on his face. The group was stunned. At first they hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation, but the tone of Ronnie’s voice made them all take notice. Except for Chelsea, she continued to stare out the window. Snapping his fingers as a thought raced into his head, it clicked. “Valerie Bertinelli was in that show.” Pete he said as if he were answering a question in a Trivial Pursuit game. “How the fuck do you know that?” Ass asked. “Dude, she’s Mrs. Eddie Van Halen.” Pete responded condescendingly. “Oh, that chick.” Ass said. “I always wondered why she was famous.” “You butt plug.” Ronnie chided. “She was in a bunch of movies.” Now it was Ronnie that was receiving the stares. “Dude, I used to watch a lot of TV.” Ronnie said defensively. “You know, instead of doing my homework.” “Doesn’t she look a lot like Phoebe Cates?” Ben asked. “Kinda, but she looks a lot more like Eddie.” Pete added. Although Big Ron was very amused by the conversation, he knew there was more to the story and he wanted to find out what it was. There was something about Schneider that really bothered him, but he wasn’t quite sure. He thought this might provide some insight. “So, what’s the deal?” Big Ron asked. “You a big Jamie Farr fan?’ “What?” Schneider asked confused. “Oh, frequent mistake. No, Schneider was portrayed by Pat Harrington, Jr. Yeah, I guess I’m a fan.” That wasn’t what he was looking for. Big Ron knew when some one was hiding something. That was the personal skill that had made him rich. In negotiations, he didn’t claim to know exactly what the other guy knew. But he definitely knew when the other side was withholding information. Just as he was about to continue questioning, he was interrupted. “Hey, wasn’t that chick from Wilson-Phillips in that show?” Pete asked again. For some reason this question generated peals of laughter from Emily. She nudged Chelsea, bringing her back to the moment. They locked eyes. “Hey Chels, remember?” She asked cheerfully. She began to sing softly. “I know this pain Why do lock yourself up in these chains? No one can change your life except for you Don't ever let anyone step all over you Just open your heart and your mind Is it really fair to feel this way inside?” Chelsea smiled broadly and jumped in and sang robustly with her friend. “Some day somebody's gonna make you want to Turn around and say goodbye Until then baby are you going to let them Hold you down and make you cry Don't you know? Don't you know things can change Things'll go your way If you hold on for one more day Can you hold on for one more day Things'll go your way Hold on for one more day” Just as when they were pre-pubescent girls, Emily dropped off and let Chelsea continue. “You could sustain Or are you comfortable with the pain? You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness You got yourself into your own mess Lettin' your worries pass you by Don't you think it's worth your time To change your mind?” Then Emily joined her friend for the chorus again. Then they broke off the song laughing and holding their stomach. “Oh Em, that was sooo long ago.” Chelsea said as they regained their composure. Then men were dumbfounded. Not only was it completely unexpected, it was actually pretty good for an impromptu a capella version of a fifteen year old song. “All right.” Pete said as he clapped his hands together. The others joined him in giving the girls a quick round of applause. “Uh…don’t mean to piss on your parade.” Schneider said. “But it was MacKenzie Phillips on One Day at a Time. Chynna Phillips was in Wilson-Phillips. Nice song though.” “Uh, thanks…I guess.” Chelsea said dismissively as she turned back to Emily. “I haven’t sung like that in a long time. Remember how we used to do that.” Big Ron watched for Schneider’s reaction and he saw the dark frown form on his face. “All the time, singing into our hair brushes.” Chelsea added. Both girls giggled as if they had been transported back to Emily’s bedroom, dancing around in their pajamas. “I gotta pee.” Emily said excitedly. “Come with me.” With that, the girls disappeared. The men looked at each other in a peculiar fashion. Not really sure where that came from, but like Schneider, they did think it was pretty entertaining. “Other cast members included, Bonnie Franklin as the lovely Anne Romano.” Schneider began rambling. “The previous mentioned Valerie and Mackenzie as her two daughters, Julie and Barbara. Shelley Fabares as …” “Whoa, there Schneider.” Pete said. “You know a little more about “One Day at a Time” than anyone really should. What is up with that? “There was a time in my life when “One Day at a Time” was the only thing I had in my life.” “Wat? C’mon, dude.” Pete said good-naturedly not being astute enough to gauge the emotional toll the conversation was taking on Schneider.” “Look, man.” Schneider said solemnly. “I’m dead serious. I had nothing but that show, not even a name. So, yeah. It’s pretty important to me. I try to catch it whenever I can.” It was beginning to sink in to Pete. Just as he was about to ask another question, Big Ron slowly shook his head back and forth in an exaggerated motion so not even Pete could miss it. Once again, Ron didn’t know exactly what was happening with Schneider. But he did know that know was not the time to push it. An eerie silence hung over then men. “This is it. Straight ahead and rest assured …” Schneider began to sing the theme song in a barely audible tone. They rode the rest of the five mile to the airport in complete silence other than Schneider’s soft voice. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was a very long line in the cafeteria and Frankie was getting impatient. As hungry as he was, his grumbling was beginning to become noticeable. Even though it was very apparent that he was getting agitated, none of the employees moved. They had all heard the story and they all stayed clear of him. No one could ever prove it, but two people were dead and he was the only person that could have done it. Unfortunately, no one understood how he could have possibly done it and that is what scared them the most. He had killed another resident within fifteen feet of two orderlies and a nurse. Later the same night, one of the orderlies was found dead in the janitor’s closet. It just happened to be the one that roughed him up a bit. Although they could not figure out how he could have managed to kill the orderly and lock himself back in the isolation room, everyone knew he did it. Despite how impossible it seemed that he could lock the door from the outside, the really amazing feat was that he was restrained in a straight-jacket the entire time. When Frank Johnson got restless, all the Vacaville employees got nervous, very nervous. “Hurry up.” Frank said. “I fuckin’ hungry.” The two closest orderlies looked at each other, then back at Frank. They knew that they were going to have to take action if Frank got revved up any more. Just as they began to move in to a better position they heard a strange voice. “Where’s Frank Johnstone?” The man’s voice asked. Turning, they orderlies saw a smallish man in a black suit facing them. “Johnstone.” He repeated authoritatively. “Frank Johnstone.” “Uh…we have a Frank Johnson.” One managed. “That’s it. Frank Johnson.” The man said crisply. “He’s mine.” The man handed them a sheet of paper. Upon examination, it showed that it was a court order releasing Frank to this man, James Smith. Feeling completely relived the orderly that read the court order turned to his partner. “This says he gets, Frank.” He said. “Be my guest.” The other orderly said to the mysterious man as he pointed to Frank. Mr. James Smith walked over to Frank. Reaching out, he touched Frank’s arm. “Let’s go, Johnson.” The man said as he pulled on Frank’s arm. “Fuck off, I’m getting lunch.” Frank responded angrily. The two orderlies watched intently. They wanted to make sure they actually witnessed Frank in action. Instead of being treated to a death match, the two saw something that took them completely off guard. As he held tightly on to Frank’s arm, James Smith leaned in and said something quietly. Then he turned to walk away and Frank fell in behind him, automatically in step. Without another word or signal, James and Frank walked out the door. “You see that shit?” One asked the other. “I seen it, but I ain’t believin’ it.” The other responded. Upon exiting the building, the two men walked lock step to a blue Ford Gran Torino and got inside. James started the car, moved the automatic transmission into gear and drove away. They drove in silence until they were several miles away from the facility. The entire time, Frank sat upright and looked straight forward. “Here’s the deal, soldier.” James started to explain. “The company wants you terminated with extreme prejudice, do you understand.” “Yes, sir.” Frank responded flatly as he continued looking forward. “You don’t seem upset about that.” James remarked. “I’m a soldier, sir.” Frank stated. “I understand that I follow orders, not question them.” James was impressed. Some one, and he was pretty sure he knew who, had conditioned this man extremely well. Right now, he knew that he could order this man to do anything and he would execute the order or die trying. There was absolutely no doubt. “Do you know who my boss is?” James asked. “Yes, sir. I do.” Frank responded immediately and forcefully. “Then you understand that my orders are his orders, correct?” James continued with his questioning. “Yes, sir.” “We have other plans.” James explained. “You are to go to Colorado and establish a base of operations. Keep a low profile and do not attract attention to yourself. We will contact you when we need you.” “Yes, sir.” “I have a kit in the seat behind you with everything you need to get to Colorado and get set up. Do not use public transportation. Do not use any other vehicular transportation. Do not hop any freight trains. Absolutely, no hitch-hiking. Avoid any human contact unless it is absolutely necessary until you get there. Understand?” “Yes, sir.” Frank said. “I walk. Destination, sir?” “No where in particular.” James said. “The less we know, the better. We’ll find you when we need you, but do not leave Colorado unless cleared.” “Yes, sir.” “If you need supplemental income, you are authorized to work, but try to find something that doesn’t require much contact with civilians.” “Yes, sir.” For the entire conversation, Frank did not move. His posture was perfect, his eyes looking directly forward. Once again, James was impressed and a little intimidates. He had never actually met anyone with such little humanness. It was not some thing he wished to experience again. “One last thing.” James said. “If you see anyone from the company, take immediate evasive action. If you cannot get away without being seen, you are authorized to use whatever means necessary to protect the mission. Clear?” “Crystal, sir.” Frank responded. James pulled the car to the side of the road. Without a word, Frank exited the vehicle. Quickly, he opened the rear door, extracted the back pack. As soon as he shut the door, James pulled away and disappeared down the road. Frank placed his right arm in the strap, flipped the pack on to his back and slipped his other arm into the strap. As he began to walk east, he inhaled deeply. For the first time in almost four years, he was outside. It felt great. He felt great. After five steps, he walked off the road and disappeared into the woods. <<< Chapter 31 Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

I'm burnt

This whole weekend has been a blur. Now that I am impervious to being shut down, I can get back to writing The Break. I promise I will get Chapter 32 out later in the week, maybe Tuesday. If you are new to this blog, what I am doing here is blogging a novel-in-progress. I post other musing about the writing process and what is happening throughout my blogging experience. If you just want to get straight to reading what I believe to be excellent fiction, check out The Break which has all of the chapters of my current novel-in-progress or you can check out Web Site, a preview of my novel in print. The Snow in March blog, is some of my short stories. I'll let you figure out what Rebeleyeball Commentary is all about on your own. Lastly, links to all of my posts can be found at Links to All Rebeleyeball Posts. Thanks for reading! Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Blowing the lid off the whole IBCC cover-up

Yesterday, I told you about my little spelling error that I perpetuated through 31 chapters of my current novel-in-progress The Break. I mentioned that I was very nervous about having an IBCC review. You may have thought I was being overly paranoid - why on earth would the IBCC care about spelling errors in my posts? Well, I have some news for you - the IBCC isn't the benevolent organization they make themselves out to be. When I posted yesterday, I wasn't in the position to speak out, but I am now. For the last 65 odd hours, I have been preparing to fire the first salvo in the movement to overthrow the IBCC. Excuse the typo's, I've been rolling on coffee, cold showers and five pounds of esspresso beans to get everything set up. There were servers to move, DNS entries to update, false DNS entries to create, etc to cover the location of my blog files. Why did I go to these extremes, you ask? Let me start at the beginning, or at least the start of my blogging adventure. Like most of you, when I started my blog I filled out the paperwork to become certified by the IBCC. As you know, the IBCC is a consortium formed in 2003 by Microsoft, Google, AOL and HDNet as a standards organization for the blogoshere. All blogs must pass the rigid set of standards set forth in the "Blogger's Manifesto" that was released after the IBCC formation committee closed the Minnetonka, Minnesota sessions on May 18, 2003. Well this all came to head a couple of weeks ago when I got my first notification about my blog "Left Over Right". You may have had the opportunity to read it. If you didn't, it was a very liberal blog that was highly critical of the current administration. Somewhere along the line, I must have struck a raw nerve because they told me that it was "offensive to the common morality". But I blew it off, because I wasn't saying anything that a bunch of other people were saying on many other sites. But then about two weeks "Left Over Right" disappeared. I didn't mention any thing at the time because I didn't want to have all my blogs shut down. Since then I have been busy researching the IBCC. It turns out that the IBCC is actually a front for a U.S. Government program to monitor all blogs for anti-government activity. At first, I thought it was strange that they would shut me down. I'm just a small fry. But after I discovered the entire publication from the sessions with the haughty title of the "Minnetokan Accords", it became very apparent what they are doing. It's an anti-grassroots campaign. Progressives are gaining ground and thousands of blogs are springing up united in their mistrust of our current administration. So they put this program in place to quash us one at a time. They can beat the big "liberal" media, but they can't beat us unless they snuff us out one-by-one. Apparently, the section chief at the IBCC has a real issue with me. He wasn't satisfied with just shutting down "Left Over Right". He was going to shut all my blogs down. That's why I had to move all my blogs to the secret servers. Over my years in the telecom industry, I made many friends. That means, I can keep bouncing my blogs around indefinitely. It took me a while to setup up my blogs as vitual programs that I could port quickly from server to server and still maintain the urls. But it's done and I am now truly the rebeleyeball. I vow to stay blogging and to do everything I can to take down the IBCC. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

I am absolutely mortified

After 31 chapters, I finally go to One Day at a Time(1975) and I find out that Schnieder's name is actually spelled Schn ei der. Oh, the humanity. Can you possibly understand how incredibly embarrassed I am? It really made me stop and think - Am I really cut out for this blogging thing? I haven't been doing this long, but I do know that a mistake like that can jeopardize your "Official Blogger" certification. I really hope that no one on the "International Blogger Certification Committee" (IBCC) happens to read my blog before I have time to go and find each occurrence of "Schnieder" in the The Break and switch it to "Schn ei der manually and then republish each chapter. I know some one that isn't going to get any sleep tonight. Could that be the reason that Mark Cuban blew me off and David Lettermen never responded? I betcha it is. They saw a rookie mistake and figured I didn't have what it takes to be associated with them. Bummer. It's a jungle out there in the blogosphere, I tell ya. Don't get involved with this activity unless you can handle the stress of constant scrutiny from every direction. Yes, my loyal readers it's a dog-eat-dog world, but I am up to the challenge - as long as the IBCC doesn't pull my card! Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

And now Chapter 31

Well, Chapter 31 is done. I'm about half way done with the story. Things in the story are going exactly the way I want them to. The boys are growing nicely don't you think? What do think is going to happen when Anita begins staying at Ron's house? Any one wondering what's up with the boys after the explosion? Look for a few more twists. Quite a few of you have been keeping up with the story and I would like thank you. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

The Break - Chapter 31

Chapter 31 The ferry began to slow, turn and pull into the dock. Most of the other passengers had already vacated the deck and filed down the stairs like ants returning to the hill. But Ronnie wanted to watch just a little longer. He had stood in the same place on the deck for the entire three hour journey except for the thirty minutes it took to get Annie set up with her ticket. “Better head down to the bus, son.” Big Ron said as he put his hand on Ronnie’s shoulder. “K, dad.” Ronnie responded. The joined the fast moving line and filed dutifully down the steep stairwell to the auto deck. When the arrived on the lowest deck, they snaked their way between the cars to the bus from their vantage point, they could see everyone else was already on the bus. Although Ronnie wasn’t overcome by the aroma of pot when he stepped onto the bus, he could still smell the lingering bouquet of wonder weed. Foolishly, he hoped his father wouldn’t notice. Since Big Ron was right behind him, it was highly unlikely. “Ummmm, smells like some one else is someone else around here is trying to combat the effects of chemo.” Big Ron chuckled. The comment was so unexpected that the bus literally erupted in laughter. More than shocked, Ronnie looked at his father in complete disbelief. He wasn’t sure which he found more surprising, the fact that his father recognized the smell and seemed cool with it or the fact that he just admitted to six other people that he was taking chemotherapy. “Dad…uh…” Ronnie tried as the laughing subsided. “It’s okay, Ronnie.” Big Ron said gently. “I don’t mind if people know I am fighting cancer. I’m going to beat it, but I am going to need support.” “Yeah, s-s-sure, Mr. Harrison.” Ass said feeling a little deflated by the thought of cancer. Everyone else had the same feeling and an uncomfortable pal hung over the group. It is always the same when a group of people are confronted with illness. Wanting to be the good person and provide empathetic support for the afflicted while simultaneously trying to stifle the natural tendency to create a barrier to insolate against the illness. It must hearken back to the days of the black plague when illness meant death to not only the sick but to any that got too close. “Really, it’s okay.” Big Ron said gently. “C’mon lighten up, would ya? The thought of border patrol brought Big Ron to the issue at hand. “C’mon we need something about the smell.” Big Ron said in the voice he used to signal that negotiations we over. Just as everyone stood up to assist, Pete spoke up cheerfully. “Heh-hey, we gots some fa-bar-eeezzze.” “Well, I guess we all know who is responsible for the smell.” Big Ron joked. “Aww, no you didn’t.” Pete replied. As everyone set about opening windows and spraying all of the seats and the carpet, Ronnie could not force himself to look away from his father. It struck him that he and his dad had much more in common than they ever knew. They had been together for a little over six hours and they shared more than they had in the last fifteen years. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t drive the thoughts from his head. He had to ask. “So, you started smoking dope to help with the chemo?” Ronnie asked. “Start, hell.” Big Ron said matter-of-factly. “Get a load of this kid, Schnieder. He has no idea that back in the day we smoked more weed than he could even imagine seeing.” A wave of nausea flowed over Ronnie as he had a vision of the two hundred pot plants in Schnieder’s double-wide. He really hoped Schnieder had enough sense not to say anything about that or the dealing. “Sure, Big R.” Schnieder said. “Kid’s nowadays buy it by the quarter ounce and we used to buy it by the quarter pound.” “Or by the pound.” Big Ron chuckled. “You use to smoke pot?” Ronnie asked taken aback. “When did you quit.” “I guess I never quit smoking pot.” Big Ron explained. “I just quit buying it.” As he listened, Ronnie felt his head spinning. The furthest thought from his mind was that his father smoked pot. He had never seen any signs of it around their house. Then it hit him, why did he care? What was the problem? Even though he was not smoking now, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with pot. It was very hypocritical of him to be upset that his father enjoyed it as much as he did. Just as he was about to sink into his mental wasteland, the place he went when he was thinking, Ronnie heard car engines starting. Then the bus’ diesel engine fired. “Here we go boys.” Schiender said. As soon as it was their turn they drove off the ferry. Exiting the ferry, Schnieder pulled into the line marked for large vehicles. As he waited, Schnieder began to feel the pressure. His heart began to race, he felt nauseas and he felt a bead of sweat from on his brow. Did he hide it good enough? What was his exit strategy? The volume of the self questioning was causing his head to spin so intensely that he started to get dizzy. Then he heard it. “Failure is not an option, son.” The evil’s voice resounded in his head. “If you fail, you go back!” “I’m not going back there.” He said aloud. “What?” Big Ron asked. “Nothing.” Schnieder snapped very irritated that he allowed himself to speak out loud. Schnieder’s behavior did not go unnoticed. Although he had only been around him for a few hours, Big Ron was getting a bad vibe from the main roadie for the band. He made a mental note to keep his eye on him. When it was his turn, Schnieder pulled forward. The Canadian Border Patrol Agent approached the vehicle. He eyed the bus suspiciously. “I need to see identification for everyone on the bus, please.” He said to Schnieder when he walked up to the driver’s window. “How many people are on board?” It took Schnieder a moment. “There’s the four guys, two girls, Big R and me.” Schnieder said. “Uh, that’s eight right?” “Sounds like eight to me.” The officer responded. As Schnieder assembled all the documentation, he was keeping an eye on the officer. The decision had already been made. If he got to close, he wouldn’t make it home for dinner. Schnieder would deal with the fallout. Either he would get away with his cargo or he would die here, along with many others. It would be ugly. Anticipating the worst case scenario, Schnieder had taken precautions. Not only were the explosives hidden, they were rigged so that he could set them off along with the tank full of diesel. In this close quarters, the devastation would be like nothing Canada had ever seen before. It was quite possible that he could take almost a thousand people with him. The officer examined each document closely. It first it seemed that he was just going to hand them back and let them on their band. “What’s your business in Canada?” He asked. “This is the bus for the band Ratdick.” Schnieder explained. “We have gigs in Vancouver, Surrey and Victoria.” “And how long are you planning on staying?” He continued questioning. “About two weeks.” Schnieder responded. The officer looked at Schnieder sideways, looking for any signs that he was hiding something. “About?” “Last gig is on the twenty-fifth.” Schiender explained. “So we will get on a ferry the next day. So today is the twelve … yeah … two weeks.” Once again, the officer gave Schnieder a hard look. For some reason, his gut told him not to just let this bus pass. “Band, huh?” He responded. “Thought there was a certain fragrance in the air. I am going to have to come on the bus.” “Sure.” Schnieder replied. Coming on the bus was not an issue. But if the officer wanted to check the cargo bay, he would have to prepare himself to act. The officer boarded the bus. Taking a quick look around, he didn’t see anything in plain sight. Then he saw the refrigerator. “Do you have any alcohol in that refrigerator?” He asked. “There’s only like a six pack, sir.” Pete answered. “I had the pleasure of consuming most of our on board supply last night. Additionally, we have heard that Canadian brew masters are quite talented and connoisseurs, such as ourselves, are doing themselves a large favor to leave the tasteless liquid that passes for beer in the States behind. I believe this to be true and my associates and I are eagerly anticipating sampling their wares.” Pausing for a moment, the officer simply blinked his eyes in response. Everyone else on the bus was equally dumbfounded by Pete’s oratory. “Er, well then. Right.” The officer said. “I’m off. Enjoy your stay in Cananda. After the officer was clear, everyone turned and looked at Pete. “What?” Pete asked defensively. “What the fuck was that load of bullshit?” Ronnie asked. “I get a little talkative when I am nervous.” Pete explained. “I’ll say.” Big Ron said. “Maybe you should let Pete negotiate the next deal.” “Aw, fuck that, Mr. Harrison.” Pete continued. “Ronnie’s our guy. I’m just okay at slinging the bullshit.” “That three-quarters of the art of negotiation.” Big Ron lectured. “But I think you’re right. Ronnie is doing a great job.” Once again, Ronnie was struck dumb by his father’s behavior. Not only did his father give him a compliment, but he did so in front of all his friends. This really was a banner day. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This was an incredible story, but Anita wished that Ron cut through some of the details. He had been talking for almost four hours and the only thing she knew about this Frankie Schnieder guy was that he had some explosives on the bus. “So when did you discover the explosives?” Anita asked. “I didn’t find out about them until the day of the explosion.” Ron explained. “If I would have known sooner, I never would have let the boys or any one else for that matter get any where near the Pepsi Center. “So why are you telling me all this?” Anita asked. “Because I didn’t do this and I need someone to help me prove it.” Ron said. “I know how good investigative reporters are. I know you can help me.” Ron stood up and stretched. “Look.” Ron said frankly. “I know I am boring you, but the details are important.” The words stung Anita. The hubris of this man was incredible. First, he was telling this story as if he was the father of the year. Now, he was trying to tell her how to do her job. “I am very capable of determine which details are important, Mr. Harrison.” She replied with a very snotty tone. “Well, I’m not.” Ron stated matter-of-factly. “I am trying to tell you everything that I can so you can tell me what’s important. I have never been in a situation like this.” This statement took her completely off guard. Was she so out of touch that she just missed everything? She was so convinced that this guy was wasting her time, she was missing the story. Not paying attention was simply inexcusable. “Right, sorry.” Anita said apologetically. “Look, I’m a little rusty and it’s showing.” “I have an idea.” Ron said. “Let’s take a break from this story and just chat a little. We can start again fresh tomorrow.” “Okay.” Anita replied a little flustered. For the first time, Anita noticed how attractive Ron was. Suddenly, she became very aware of how long it had been since she was with a man. It had been a very long time. It wasn’t just since she left the station. She had been so focused on her career that she didn’t have time for men. Trying to recall the last time was proving to be very difficult. “Uh…hello.” Ron said. “Did I lose you?” “No, sorry again.” Anita said trying to recover her composure. “Just thinking.” “About what?” Ron asked. “Uh…” Unable to come up with something quickly, Anita was granted a reprieve. “Are you two going to talk all night?” Elena asked. Elena had excused herself an hour ago. It wasn’t that she was bored. She had to use the restroom. As a post-menopausal woman, it wasn’t the easiest or the most rapid event. Finally, she finished. But before she came out, she overheard the conversation. Knowing her younger sister, she knew that Anita had problems speaking with men. Especially when they were as good looking as this big gringo. “Actually, I am getting a little tired.” Ron responded. “I forget that I didn’t have much time to recover from my chemo before I got blown up.” “You have cancer?” Anita asked concerned. “Not any more.” Ron informed her. “Doc says I am in remission. I guess that’s some good news.” Ron paused, not sure if he should ask. Then he decided he would since it really was a good idea. Ron paused, not sure if he should ask. Then he decided he would since it really was a good idea. “Uh…I have a little place in the mountains, close to Evergreen.” He started. “It’s not much, but I was wondering if you ladies would like to join me up there. Might be good for all of us to get away from the heat here in the city.” The women exchanged looks. “That might not be a bad idea after what happened today, Nitti.” Elena said. “You two need to get away from downtown.” “I think you’re right.” Anita agreed. “Well, it’s settled.” Ron said. “You can pack tomorrow and then come up. I’ll give you directions.” The women exchanged looks. “That might not be a bad idea after what happened today, Nitti.” Elena said. “You two need to get away from downtown.” “I think you’re right.” Anita agreed. “Well, it’s settled.” Ron said. “You can pack tomorrow and then come up. I’ll give you directions. <<< Chapter 30 Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

New Cover, new title - Same great book

Here is the new cover of my novel Web Site. Let me know what you think. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Oh by the way - Chapter 30 is available

It seems as if I have been so busy getting the new cover for my recently renamed novel Web Site, that I neglected to post that Chapter 30 is ready. In addition to the cover, I had to update all thirty chapters I have posted on Progressing Rapidly Over Uneven Terrain. This had the nasty side effect of changing all the file names, so I had to go through and update all the "next" and "previous" buttons in the posts. You may have noticed that I totally eliminated my Google advertising and Google search. Tomorrow, I will try to post my whole beef with Google. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

Title change

EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it! I have officially changed the cover and the title of Progressing Rapidly Over Uneven Terrain to Web Site. The spine of the book, which is not shown on the cover preview, will read Web Site A story of Progressing Rapidly Over Uneven Terrain. Although the cover has changed, the content is the same story as previously published. It is also the same as the preview located on my blog Progressing Rapidly Over Uneven Terrain. All of you that purchased the original version of the book now have a rare collector's item. Please let me know what you think about the new title and cover art. I'd greatly appreciate it. Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball More stories from Paul Gavin. Info on novels Paul Gavin's Storefront. Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.

The Break - Chapter 30

Chapter 30 Almost immediately after Big Ron gave him the credit card, Ronnie excused himself. As soon as the bus door opened, he was hit with a wall of pot smoke. It only surprised him because he thought everyone was still on deck. Thinking about it, he hadn’t seen Pete and Chelsea around in well over an hour. “Jesus Christ.” Ronnie thought to himself. “Doesn’t he know we have to go through customs at the freaking border?” Quickly, Ronnie went to the bathroom and grabbed the spray bottle of Fabreeze that they kept for situations such as this. Pulling the trigger in rapid succession, he sprayed the air, couches cushions and the carpet. For a moment he considered going back and giving Pete a ration, but as he was returning the spray bottle to the bathroom. He heard Chelsea’s voice. “That’s it, Pete. Lick me.” Instead he grabbed his laptop and headed out the door. Not that he was interested in listening, but he didn’t want to be disturbed by anything when he was making the reservations. Unlike the rest of his band mates, Ronnie liked it to be quiet when he was concentrating on something. He didn’t like background noise or any type. When he was writing a song, he would go somewhere quiet with his acoustic guitar. Usually, he played very quietly as he sang softly. Since the wireless connection was good outside the bus as well, he took up a spot on the front bumper of the bus. Opening Firefox, he selected Priceline from his favorites. Wanting to make a request for a ticket from Denver to Vancouver for today, he was very distressed to find that you can’t get flight less than twenty-four hours in advance. “What are you doing?” Ronnie said out loud. Realizing he could afford it more than just a discounted ticket, he went to several airlines web sites. After a little checking, he found a non-stop flight that left Denver at 5:25 this afternoon arriving in Vancouver at 6:35. Without hesitation, he reserved a first class seat in the name of Annie Spivey. As he dialed her phone number, he felt butterflies in his stomach. She answered on the second ring. “Hey, Ronnie.” She said shyly, but her tone told him that she was happy he called. “How long will it take you to pack?” Ronnie asked. “Pack for what?” Annie asked completely taken aback. Now the tone of her voice made him feel insecure. Maybe he should have asked her before he made the reservations. “Well, I was hoping you would agree to come up to Vancouver and then hang out for a while.” He explained tentatively. “We have quite a road trip going and I’d really like it if you could be with us … uh …me.” “Road trip?” She asked not really understanding what he was talking about. “You know.” Ronnie said realizing all he had to do was explain it to her. “We talked about it last night. How I won’t be back in Denver for at least two months and that I can’t go that long without seeing you.” “But what about work?” Annie asked. She began to play with her hair, twisting a strand of her hair around her index finger. Without realizing that she did it, she crossed her legs and began nervously bouncing her upper leg at a very rapid pace. They had just had a very uncomfortable parting. He hadn’t even called for almost two weeks. Now after two phone calls, he was asking her to quit her job and join him on the road. “Fuck Appleby’s.” Ronnie said flatly. “What have they ever done for you? You can always get another job waiting tables when you get back. C’mon. It won’t cost you any money. Our hotels are all paid for. So is our food and alcohol. Plus, I got you a first class ticket for you.” “A first class ticket?” Annie asked very surprised. “And everything is paid for? But for how long?” “As long as you want.” Ronnie replied. “C’mon. You know you want to.” Annie thought for a moment. Indeed, she really did want to see him. But then it hit her. “Ronnie, if I agree to come up there.” She said. “How am I going to pay my rent?” “I can help you out.” Ronnie volunteered without hesitation. The long pause on the other end of the line made Ronnie wish he had waited or at least provided another alternative. Just as he was about to break the silence, he heard the answer he was waiting for. “Okay.” She said meekly. “Okay?” Ronnie asked. “Yes, but it will be a loan.” Annie continued. “Right, a loan.” Ronnie replied. Ronnie felt his heart surge. Annie occupied most of his off stage thoughts. Now she was going to come see him, it was the best he could have hoped for. Suddenly the awkwardness of the earlier part of the conversation evaporated. It was just them again. They talked freely for about ten minutes, when Ronnie had a thought. “So, your flight leaves at 5:15.” Ronnie said almost paternally. “You should be at the airport at least an hour early. You better get going.” “Okay, Ronnie.” Annie agreed in a goofy voice to mock her boyfriend. “Talk to you later.” “Uh…okay…” Ronnie hesitated and then he said it. “I love you. The words stunned Annie. She had longed to hear them for so long that when she actually heard them, she wasn’t sure what to say. “I love you, too.” She heard her voice say without hesitation. “Bye.” Ronnie said giddily. “See you soon.” “Bye.” Annie responded. As she hung up the phone, she saw that her hands were shaking. She was sure she loved Ronnie when she said it to him the first time. Was it only really three weeks ago? Seemed like much longer than that. When he didn’t respond, she felt her heart stop. It beat again for the first time when he said the words to her completely on his own. She hadn’t even had to go fishing for it. This was exactly what she had been looking for. It was nothing like she had ever felt before. She didn’t feel anything like when she was with Branton. In fact, she had spent most of her adult life not feeling anything at all. It had taken six years and Ronnie to rid her of the numbness that overtook her when she found out about Tony. Now, she felt happy. For the first time, she could remember she actually felt happy. As she was packing, Annie had an idea. Opening her purse, she counted the cash. She had almost five hundred dollars. Ronnie had chided her for keeping all her tips in her purse. But it was just one of her things. She had to have here money with her. Checking her watch, she determined that she had about thirty-five minutes to spare. Gathering her stuff, she exited her apartment and got in her car. Deliberately, she drove to the mall. Pulling in to the closest available spot, she hopped out of the car and moved as quickly as she could to the door. Once inside the mall, she went to the Fredrick’s of Hollywood. Immediately she was greeted by a sales person who listened some what disinterested as Annie explained the situation. Where she was going, why she was going, and how short she was on time. But when she mentioned that Ronnie had said “I love you” for the first time, she perked up instantly. Within a few moments, they located a few nice sets of lingerie and one very special item. Cheerfully, she paid for her purchases and hustled back to her car. As she drove to the airport, she felt as if she was floating. So deep was the spell, she was completely surprised by the airport. She couldn’t even remember driving at all. She parked at the close in lot as Ronnie suggested. It took her ten minutes to get to the first class counter. Initially, she was met with the snootiness common to people used to serving the elite. But when the gate agent found that she was a ticketed first class customer and not a stray that had entered her line mistakenly, her demeanor improved significantly. “Ms. Spivey.” The agent said sweetly. “You are seated in 2A and you will be departing from gate B33. They will begin boarding at approximately 4:55.” “Thanks.” Annie said ecstatically. Taking her boarding pass, Annie turned and skipped away from the counter. It felt so good, that she continued skipping all the way to the escalator oblivious to all the strange looks from just about everyone she passed. Not even the enormous line at security affected her mood. After twenty minutes, it was her turn to hand over her boarding pass. “Boarding pass and identification.” The TSA agent managed completely devoid of any humanness. “Sure.” Annie beamed as she handed over her travel documents. “And how are you today?” “Fine.” TSA managed with all the excitement of a fence post. “You know you could have gone to the first class line.” “But then I never would have had the pleasure of meeting you.” Annie said sincerely. “Line thirteen.” Was the response. Annie flew through the rest of the security process, bounded down the escalator and ran to make the train that was about to depart. Happily, she flopped down on the bench. As she did, she saw her reflection in the train window and saw that she had the biggest, goofiest smile she had ever seen on her face. “I’m going to see Ronnie.” She thought. “I am going to see Ronnie.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Waiting for his chance, Ben finally saw Emily excuse herself and walk back into the passenger cabin. Summoning his courage, he walked over to Ass. “Eddie?” He asked meekly. “What’s wrong? Why are you doing this?” His eyes clouded over. Ass stood up and turned away from Ben without saying a word. Ben knew he had a choice. It would be easy to walk away and not face this now. But he wasn’t in the mood for that. He had given himself to Eddie and he had been rewarded by being cut out of his life. “C’mon Eddie.” Ben urged. “We have to talk about this.” “No we don’t.” Ass responded. “Yes, we do.” Ben demanded. Turning, Ass had a very nasty look on his face. “Fine. You wanna talk.” Ass hissed. “Let’s talk. I told you I’m not gay and you wouldn’t take that for an answer.” “Please.” Ben said. “It’s not about gay. It’s about us. You fucked me and you loved it. That’s the truth.” “No, I didn’t.” Ass snapped suddenly. “Excuse me?” Ben asked stunned. “I didn’t get off … I mean … It wasn’t … I didn’t like it.” Ass stated very unconvincingly. Ben stared at Ass. For the first time Ben could remember, Ass was unable to look him in the eye. “Oh, I get it.” Ben said sarcastically. “You don’t wanna be “gay” Ben made the quote marks in the air with his fingers when he said gay. “So, you see Miss big tits and figure “These big tits will convince me that I like women.”” Ben accused. “Look, I know you like woman, but you love me and you know it. Maybe you can’t fuck me again and that’s cool with me. Fuck all the woman you like, just don’t treat me like a piece of shit.” It seemed as if was the longest statement Ben had made in his entire life. Ass still had his head hung down, but Ben knew he was getting through. “C’mon Eddie.” Ben pled. “Please, don’t throw away what we have. Don’t shut me out. We have something great here and I want to keep it going.” “Really?” Ass asked as he lifted his head and looked at Ben. “Yeah.” Ben said as his eyes softened. “So you don’t mind if I’m with women?” Ass asked. Pausing for a moment, Ben thought about how he wanted to phrase it what he needed to say. “No, I don’t mind if you are with woman.” He stated. “But I am going to be with guys. He anticipated what Ass was thinking and continued quickly. “Just blow jobs, no fucking.” Ben said. “And even though I haven’t had sex … other than … well … Anyway, I still get tested every three months, so it’ll be cool – all right.” “Sure, I guess.” Ass replied. Shifting uncomfortably, Ass was a little upset with himself that he hadn’t even thought about the risk of HIV when they did it. Trying to sort it all out in his head, he didn’t notice Ben leaning towards him. Before he knew it, Ben kissed him gently on the lips. Ass responded fully. He knew Ben was right, they did have something very special. If they could work through this, it might be an amazing relationship. “Uh…am I interrupting?” Emily asked. “Are you two, like together?” “Kinda.” Ass replied. “Cool.” Emily said in a sex tone. “I’d like to see two dicks in action.” Both men turned and looked at each other, stunned. Then they looked back at Emily. She was smiling. They looked at each other again. Once again, they turn to look at Emily. “What?” She asked. “Can’t a girl have a dream?” “Yeah.” Ass said. “But, he’s not into girls and I … uh .. it’s complicated. “Well, you can explain it to me.” Emily said cheerfully. “We have another hour on this boat. Shall we?” She turned around and walked back into the passenger area and sat down at one of the booths. Not knowing what else to do, they followed and slide in on the opposite side of the booth. “So, you guys fuck, huh?” She asked. “Jesus, you always so direct?” Ass asked. “Uh…yeah.” Emily replied. “How do think I got here? I showed these to Pete.” Grabbing both her breasts, she violently shook them up and down to emphasize her point. When she stopped, she adjusted the under wire under each breast and then she adjusted her bra straps. “Good point.” Ass said. “Well, we have done it once.” “Once?” Emily asked surprised. “Aren’t you guys? I thought gay guys did it all the time.” “That’s kinda the thing. Ben’s gay, I’m not.” Ass said. “Huh?” Emily asked. “Not gay, just fuck guys?” “Guy.” Ass corrected. “And no, I am not gay. If you recall, I kinda rocked your world last night.” Ben frowned slightly at the statement. He knew that he had told Ass he could be with women, but he didn’t necessarily want to see or hear about it. He really didn’t want to hear Ass say “I’m not gay” ever again. But he was just going to have to get used to hearing it. “That’s true.” After a moment for composure, Ass relayed the story to Emily. He told her about being on the road and sharing a room while Pete and Ronnie always had their own. When he told her about how Ben had confronted him, she turned to Ben. “So, you do talk.” She stated. “I have been known to make a few utterances.” Ben responded. “Silky.” Emily responded. Hearing those words, Ass felt confused. Last night, he asked her how it was and she had replied that it was silky. “Silky?” Ass asked indignantly. “Oh, I always say that when I think some thing is cool.” Emily explained. “And I believe last night I said “very silky”.” Ass made a clicking sound and pointed at Emily. The both smiled. Ben thought he might vomit. Not really, but puking would be better than ever seeing that little exchange again. Then it came to the sex. Ass tried to skim over it, but Emily wanted every detail. “So, you’re fucking him.” Emily said. Her voice was a little louder than either of them considered an acceptable level. Neither could keep the look of disapproval from their face. “Ooops, sorry. I’m a little loud when I get excited.” She apologized as she reached out, touched Ass’ hand and winked. “Like I have to tell you.” Ben rolled his eyes, but Emily didn’t notice because she was gazing intently at Ass. “So, you’re fucking him.” She said softly. This time she leaned over the table toward them to keep the conversation a little more quiet. As she did so, she rested her enormous breasts on the table. Ben would have been a little irritated to see how Ass was staring at them. But he couldn’t see Ass’ face because he was staring at them as well. Not because they excited him, he was simply transfixed by their enormity. Not that he noticed womens' breats frequently, but he was pretty sure they were the largest he could recall seeing. Other than the fact he noticed, the other surprising part about her breast were that they were connected to a woman as small as Emily. “And then you reach around and grab his dick and squeeze it.” She continued. “Isn’t it great?” “What?” Ass asked. “Squeezing a dick til it comes.” She said with a little giggle. The question slammed into Ass like a ton of dicks. He had spent the better part of two days forcing himself not to think about what they had done and now he was being questioned about it. Sensing that Ass was having a little difficulty with the conversation, Ben thought he should answer a few of the questions. “Yeah.” Ben responded. “But prolly not as great for us as it is for you, since we have our own. We been squeezing dicks till they come daily since we were like twelve. Huh, Eddie.” That got a laugh and it brought Ass back into the conversation. “That is true.” Ass added. “I have squeezed my own frequently. But I have to admit, squeezing that outta you was pretty cool. Way different than mine.” Ben couldn’t believe his ears. How was it that this woman that they had only known for what, a day, possibly get Ass to bare his soul like this. “How was it different?” Emily asked. “Well, first it was much smaller.” Ass quipped. Emily laughed, Ben did not. At least, Ben didn’t laugh as hard as Emily. Ass saw the look that every man does when you joke about the size of his penis. “Dude, joke.” Ass said. “You have a great dick. Did I just say that?” “Busted.” Emily said. There was a break in the conversation as the two men looked at each other. They shared a moment and turned back to their interrogator. “And?” Emily continued. “It’s like with your own dick, you expect the come cause you feel it.” Ass continued explaining “But when Ben came, it was a surprise how much I could feel it going through.” “Did it turn you on?” Emily asked. “Made me come.” Ass responded. “Did you slip me some fucking truth serum? Why am I telling you this?” “Maybe you’re telling Ben.” Emily responded. “Who cares keep talking.” “That’s about it.” Ass said. “I finished and then I left.” Emily was flabbergasted. It seemed as if she was actually speechless. But it didn’t take long for her to regain her composure. “You came and went?” She asked indignantly. “Fuckin’ men.” “I hear ya sister.” Ben said. He held up his right hand half way acrros the table where it was met with a vigorous high-five from Emily. “You should be ashamed.” Emily said. “I am.” Ass said. Once again, there was an uncomfortable pause. Once again it was shattered by a completely inappropriate question from Emily. “Could I watch you guys do it?” She asked. “What?” Ass asked completely shocked. “This conversation, the whole thought of two guys together really makes me horny.” “Really?” The men asked simultaneously. “I’m like so wet right now.” Emily continued. After a moment of hesitation, Ass decided what he was going to say. “Well, not sure we’re actually going to do it again.” He said. “For a while anyway.” “Are you crazy, boy.” Emily asked. “After what you just described to me? You don’t want to do that again?” <<< Chapter 29 Technorati Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Chapter, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin IceRocket Tags: Fiction, Blook, Chapter, rebeleyeball Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.