Good morning,
I'm tired. But I didn't want to stay in bed. Ever feel that way? You really can't sleep, and wish it were morning, but you don't really want to get up. That's how I was feeling. Why? Because I called the police at 3:15 this morning and didn't get back into a deep sleep after that.
I know, I know, you want to know why I called the police, right?
Well, our city has a noise ordinance and you're not supposed to mow your yard, use power tools, play loud music, or be really noisy after 10 PM and before 7 AM. However, one neighbor has taken to playing his "music" really loudly at all sorts of times. The trouble was, we thought we knew which neighbor, and we don't know them. The police won't check on it until after 10 at night. Some times it would go off around ten only to be turned on again in the middle of the night. Finally, I wrote done the police number so I didn't have to try and find it in the phone-book.
Last night, or early this morning I should say, I was awakened by a loud pounding of bass and occasionally I could hear the voice of the "singer". It was not pleasant. So I called the police. Then I couldn't sleep. I had said I'd sign a complaint, but I didn't ask when I'd have to sign it (when you are sleepy and just want to go back to bed it's hard to think straight), so I was wondering if they were going to come knocking on our door.
Finally I saw the police car with no lights on, driving slowly down the alleys. Then I saw an officer in the back yard of the rental house I was pretty sure the noise was coming from. So I went downstairs just in case. The officer drove to the front of the house and by then the music had stopped. The officer only talked to the person for no more than 30 seconds before returning to his car and driving slowly away. Does that mean he couldn't do anything since it was already off? Does that mean I still have to sign a complaint? I have no idea. But I went back to bed and it took a long time to doze off only to be awakened by the train a few blocks away, or the train in the valley.
Anyway, that's why I'm tired.
This week has been a good writing week. I've more than reached my goal of 5k this week. And I started a new shorter story. This one is for a writing challenge some friends are doing where we all take the same title and write a 4-5k word story for it. Mine just doesn't want to stop being written. Oh well. That's a good problem to have sometimes.
Here's your next part of this story. Enjoy!
What T Didn’t Know
Part 6
Just as he closed his eyes and was drifting back into sleep, the low growl of his dog roused him.
“Diego?” Tommy whispered. He dangled his hand over the side of his bed, but no cold nose or warm furry head met his searching fingers. A strange sensation of danger tiptoed up his spine and snatched at his breath. He stiffened. Lying rigid and motionless except for his shallow breathing, Tommy lay with eyes wide open staring into the dark room. Why was Diego growling? What had upset him?
Soft moonlight spilled in through the half open curtains, but Tommy could see nothing. He wasn’t sure where his dog was in the room. Turning his head, he glanced toward the door. It was shut. Another growl whipped his face toward the window with a speed that made his head begin to throb.
“Diego!” It was a whispered call, but in the stillness it sounded loud.
Diego ignored his master and stalked toward the window, keeping in the shadows. His tail was out and even in the darkness, Tommy knew his hackles stood out and his teeth were bared.
A sudden terror gave strength to his injured body, and Tommy slid out of bed and onto the softly carpeted floor. His first thought was to run from the room and get help, but his legs crumpled under him and he fell. Somehow he took most of the impact with his good arm, but the jolt still sent wave after wave of pain shooting through his left arm and up into his shoulder, while his head pounded and his injured ribs screamed in protest.
Lying on the floor in a heap, Tommy fought back the cries of pain and tried to remain conscious.
There was a sudden crash followed almost at once by the loud, ferocious barking of Diego, and one, no two, gun shots!
“Diego!” Tommy’s cry was a mere gasp.
The frenzied barking stopped but was followed by snarls, a muffled curse, a clatter as though of something falling, and then Diego’s renewed racket.
A door crashed against the wall and lights were turned on.
“Tommy!”
“Daniel, the window!”
“Nellie, call the station. Get them to send several men here at once. Bruce, take a look out that window and see if you see anyone.” Dr. Hall’s voice was commanding. “Diego, quiet!”
But the dog continued his frantic barking.
Still fighting the pain his fall from the bed had caused him, Tommy licked his lips and managed to give a whistle.
Instant silence filled the room.
“Tommy,” Dr. Hall was bending over him, “what happened? Are you hit?”
“No,” Tommy’s voice was a moan. “Was going to call . . . someone . . . legs . . .” He closed his eyes as the doctor gently eased him into a more comfortable position and began running his hands over him to check for injuries.
“Dr. Hall,” the man addressed as Bruce said, “this window’s broken, there’s a scrap of fabric in the dog’s mouth, and I think there’s a gun in the snow.”
“You didn’t see anyone?”
“No, sir. I think whoever did this ran off down the path. I shoveled it this afternoon.”
The doctor grunted. “Come help me get Tommy back into bed.”
Gritting his teeth, Tommy prepared for the pain the movement would bring but opened his eyes when Bruce spoke again.
“I don’t think you want him back in that bed, Doc. There’s two bullet holes. One in the pillow and the other in the blankets.”
“What?” Dr. Hall sprang to his feet. He stared for a long minute at the bed before he sighed heavily. “Tommy,” he said slowly, “I think you must know something that someone doesn’t want you to know.”
Tommy was beginning to think so too, but right then he couldn’t think of anything but the pain he was feeling. He saw Dr. Hall kneel down beside him and felt fingers on his wrist.
“We’re going to get you to another room, Tommy, just as soon as we can.”
“The police are on their way,” Nurse Wilson said, her voice nervous and frightened. “What happened?”
“Someone tried to kill Tommy,” was the doctor’s blunt answer. “Nellie,” Dr. Hall said, glancing up, “fetch a blanket, please. And we’ll need to get the bed ready in the upstairs room next to mine.”
“Room? Upstairs?” Nurse Wilson seemed dazed and made no move.
“Nurse Wilson, a blanket must be brought at once,” Dr. Hall ordered. “And then a bed must be prepared.”
Snapped from her shock, Nurse Wilson hurried from the room.
Tommy closed his eyes. He could hear Dr. Hall and the other man talking in low voices, but it was too hard to concentrate on what they were saying. A soft whine at his side and wet tongue on his face made the boy open his eyes. Diego was standing beside him, a piece of torn cloth in his mouth.
“Did ya go after the man, Diego?” Tommy whispered, lifting a shaking hand to take the fabric from the dog’s mouth.
Diego willingly yielded his find to his master and crouched beside him.
Several things happened at once then. Tommy gave a startled cry, Nurse Wilson arrived with the blanket, and the police pounded on the front door.
“Bruce, let the police in. Tommy, what is it?” and Dr. Hall hurried to his side and knelt next to him. “Nellie, the blanket please.”
But Tommy just lay staring at the cloth in his hand.
“Tommy!”
Tommy blinked at the sharp voice and drew a quick though painful breath. “I know.”
“You know why someone was trying to kill you?” The doctor had quickly spread the blanket over his patient, for the night air was cold.
“Yes.”
“What’s going on here, Hall?”
The police had arrived.
Dr. Hall quickly filled the officers in and then added, “Tommy just remembered why someone would want to kill him, but I want to move him to a warmer room.”
“Diego?” Tommy whispered. He dangled his hand over the side of his bed, but no cold nose or warm furry head met his searching fingers. A strange sensation of danger tiptoed up his spine and snatched at his breath. He stiffened. Lying rigid and motionless except for his shallow breathing, Tommy lay with eyes wide open staring into the dark room. Why was Diego growling? What had upset him?
Soft moonlight spilled in through the half open curtains, but Tommy could see nothing. He wasn’t sure where his dog was in the room. Turning his head, he glanced toward the door. It was shut. Another growl whipped his face toward the window with a speed that made his head begin to throb.
“Diego!” It was a whispered call, but in the stillness it sounded loud.
Diego ignored his master and stalked toward the window, keeping in the shadows. His tail was out and even in the darkness, Tommy knew his hackles stood out and his teeth were bared.
A sudden terror gave strength to his injured body, and Tommy slid out of bed and onto the softly carpeted floor. His first thought was to run from the room and get help, but his legs crumpled under him and he fell. Somehow he took most of the impact with his good arm, but the jolt still sent wave after wave of pain shooting through his left arm and up into his shoulder, while his head pounded and his injured ribs screamed in protest.
Lying on the floor in a heap, Tommy fought back the cries of pain and tried to remain conscious.
There was a sudden crash followed almost at once by the loud, ferocious barking of Diego, and one, no two, gun shots!
“Diego!” Tommy’s cry was a mere gasp.
The frenzied barking stopped but was followed by snarls, a muffled curse, a clatter as though of something falling, and then Diego’s renewed racket.
A door crashed against the wall and lights were turned on.
“Tommy!”
“Daniel, the window!”
“Nellie, call the station. Get them to send several men here at once. Bruce, take a look out that window and see if you see anyone.” Dr. Hall’s voice was commanding. “Diego, quiet!”
But the dog continued his frantic barking.
Still fighting the pain his fall from the bed had caused him, Tommy licked his lips and managed to give a whistle.
Instant silence filled the room.
“Tommy,” Dr. Hall was bending over him, “what happened? Are you hit?”
“No,” Tommy’s voice was a moan. “Was going to call . . . someone . . . legs . . .” He closed his eyes as the doctor gently eased him into a more comfortable position and began running his hands over him to check for injuries.
“Dr. Hall,” the man addressed as Bruce said, “this window’s broken, there’s a scrap of fabric in the dog’s mouth, and I think there’s a gun in the snow.”
“You didn’t see anyone?”
“No, sir. I think whoever did this ran off down the path. I shoveled it this afternoon.”
The doctor grunted. “Come help me get Tommy back into bed.”
Gritting his teeth, Tommy prepared for the pain the movement would bring but opened his eyes when Bruce spoke again.
“I don’t think you want him back in that bed, Doc. There’s two bullet holes. One in the pillow and the other in the blankets.”
“What?” Dr. Hall sprang to his feet. He stared for a long minute at the bed before he sighed heavily. “Tommy,” he said slowly, “I think you must know something that someone doesn’t want you to know.”
Tommy was beginning to think so too, but right then he couldn’t think of anything but the pain he was feeling. He saw Dr. Hall kneel down beside him and felt fingers on his wrist.
“We’re going to get you to another room, Tommy, just as soon as we can.”
“The police are on their way,” Nurse Wilson said, her voice nervous and frightened. “What happened?”
“Someone tried to kill Tommy,” was the doctor’s blunt answer. “Nellie,” Dr. Hall said, glancing up, “fetch a blanket, please. And we’ll need to get the bed ready in the upstairs room next to mine.”
“Room? Upstairs?” Nurse Wilson seemed dazed and made no move.
“Nurse Wilson, a blanket must be brought at once,” Dr. Hall ordered. “And then a bed must be prepared.”
Snapped from her shock, Nurse Wilson hurried from the room.
Tommy closed his eyes. He could hear Dr. Hall and the other man talking in low voices, but it was too hard to concentrate on what they were saying. A soft whine at his side and wet tongue on his face made the boy open his eyes. Diego was standing beside him, a piece of torn cloth in his mouth.
“Did ya go after the man, Diego?” Tommy whispered, lifting a shaking hand to take the fabric from the dog’s mouth.
Diego willingly yielded his find to his master and crouched beside him.
Several things happened at once then. Tommy gave a startled cry, Nurse Wilson arrived with the blanket, and the police pounded on the front door.
“Bruce, let the police in. Tommy, what is it?” and Dr. Hall hurried to his side and knelt next to him. “Nellie, the blanket please.”
But Tommy just lay staring at the cloth in his hand.
“Tommy!”
Tommy blinked at the sharp voice and drew a quick though painful breath. “I know.”
“You know why someone was trying to kill you?” The doctor had quickly spread the blanket over his patient, for the night air was cold.
“Yes.”
“What’s going on here, Hall?”
The police had arrived.
Dr. Hall quickly filled the officers in and then added, “Tommy just remembered why someone would want to kill him, but I want to move him to a warmer room.”
Have you ever called the police for anything?
Have you ever written a story based on a title before?
What do you think Tommy remembered?
8 comments:
No, I haven't called the police before, but that sounds like quite the night! Hopefully your neighbor will stop being loud at night. :/
I think I've only written one story based on a title before, for a contest. ;)
And I don't know what Tommy remembered, but I'm looking forward to finding out! :)
Yes, I'm hoping the visit from the police will be enough to keep the noise down.
Oh, fun! What contest was that?
Hopefully you'll come back next week to find out what happens next with Tommy.
Thanks for commenting, Leona!
What a saga! I hope this keeps them quiet. :[]
Eeee! I’m so eager for next Friday!!!
Me too! It's no fun waking up in the middle of the night with a pounding beat going on.
I told you this week wouldn't end in a good spot. ;)
It was for a contest on Goodreads a couple years ago.
You're welcome! :)
Oh, fun.
Well, friend, you've managed to keep me hanging again this week;)
I've never written a story based on a title, but it sounds like it'd be fun:)
Sorry, I told you this week would be bad. ;)
If you want, you are welcome to join the "Next Door" girls in February's "Title Contest." The story has to be 4-5k words and based on the title: "Goodbye isn't in the Dictionary." :) Let me know if you want to join. You have the whole month to write it.
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