Marcello’s Revenge – Chapter 10 – Mustard Seed on Mars

Here is the last chapter of Part I of Marcello’s Revenge. This will conclude my postings of the novel. I am working on part two and hope to have it finished by the end of the year. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you very much for reading it. Feel free to comment as feedback is always welcome and appreciated. You can find all the chapters:

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I was in the common room of the Galloway Treatment Center. A large spacious area with rows of plastic folding tables with benches, and chairs lined up by large windows for their clients to enjoy the scenery. It was, all in all, a dining area, but called the common room as people would socialize there, play games, meet guests or family members, or just spend some time to themselves reading. There are no televisions in Galloway, but there is a centralized radio with speakers mounted in the ceiling of the common room and in the hallways, and over it The Circle Game was playing at a low volume.

A bright, nearly blinding white light caused by the morning sun reflecting off of the newly fallen snow and white clouds hanging heavy in the sky illuminated the room. There was only one occupant, an elderly woman I guessed from her short gray hair, sitting in an Adirondack chair, looking out a window with her back to me. I approached her, and at reaching her side found it to be Sophia. Her face was youthful, smooth and lovely as when we were just married, but her hands were wrinkled and marked with liver spots and thick blue veins, as aged as her hair. A plaid, woolen blanket covered her from the waist down, though it was quite warm in the room. Continue reading

Marcello’s Revenge – Chapter 9 – Bedtime Poetry

Here is Chapter 9 of Marcello’s Revenge, and the second to last one for part 1. I will be posting the last chapter of this part shortly. This chapter contains a poem which I have posted on this site as well titled Drinking My Boyfriend.  Other installments can be found:

HERE

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It turned out that Emma was something of an amateur artist. In her purse, which was really no more than a large white bag, she had three notebooks full of her writings, sketches and doodles. Well, two were full, the third was about three-quarters complete. Mainly they contained poems she had written since leaving her boyfriend a year prior. Being her only true possession, she carried them everywhere and never left them behind. She wrote a poem that day, and read it to Francine and me after Detective Porter had left.

The meeting between me and the inspector went well, a friendly discussion that, unfortunately for him, did not reveal any more than what I had already previously stated to the police on the scene. He is a nice man, bald and dark-skinned, on the short side with a graying goatee, and he kept the knot of his tie loose, the top button of his shirt left unfastened. Francine greeted him kindly when he arrived, and nonchalantly escorted him to the back patio where he and I alone conversed, sipping ice water and eating baby carrots and celery. Emma was in what had been the spare room, but on that day officially turned into her own.

The detective attempted to probe me a couple of times, rephrasing a couple of questions in a different fashion in an attempt to see if I would trip up, seeking for anything that I or the initial investigation may have overlooked. Yet I had left my story simple, that I went into the room to use the bathroom, discovered the body, and called the victim’s father. I proceed to call Emergency when asked to do so by Jacob.
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Marcello’s Revenge – Chapter 8 – Julie and the Alligator Man – Part II

Here is the second part of Marcello’s Revenge Chapter 8. I began it with the last line of my previous post for reference. Other installments can be found:

HERE

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“Well,” Francine said turning to Julie, “will you tell us what happened? You don’t know who it was that murdered Matt, do you?”

“No,” Julie replied looking down into her empty coffee cup.

“Perhaps Julie would like to have a little time, love.”

“Yes, you are quite correct, Robin. I am sorry Julie. That was terribly rude of me. It was such a terrible event, and I was just so excited for any news. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind. It’s ok. It might even be nice to talk about it to someone, and I don’t know who else I would be able to tell. I don’t know who the murderer was. There were four men, but only one did it. The rest just stood around. All of them in long black robes, like the kind you see kids wear at graduation. And they all had animal masks on.”

“Animal masks?” Francine asked.

“Yes, plastic animal masks. There was a lion, a bird, a pig and an alligator. And they also had hoods on so that their hair was covered. All I could make out were their shoes. And one of them had a gold watch.”

“Why did you go down to the basement? Did they bring you down there?” I asked.

“No. Matt said he had to meet someone down there.”

“Do you know who?”

“Only that it was supposed to be a guy named John. I thought it was his supply guy or something.”

“How do you know his name is John?”

“Because that is the name Matt used when we got to the room. We came in and there were three guys…”

“I thought you said there were four?” Francine said.

“I did. Hold on a minute. So we came in and there were these three guys. One of them stood near the door and closed it after we were in. He was wearing the bird mask. Then Matt said ‘What the fuck is this shit, John? Who are these guys?’ Kind of laughing, but I could tell he was a little nervous. The guy in the lion mask said ‘Shut up and get over here.’ You could tell he was trying to disguise his voice. Making it all gravely and rough. Matt walked over, confident, like nothing was really wrong. He went right up to the lion man and said ‘Who the fuck are you? Where is John?’ Then the lion man drew a gun from his robes and pointed it at Matt. ‘Shut the hell up, and stand right there.’ Matt backed up against the pool table. ‘You girl, come over here and stand here next him,’ the lion man said to me. And I did. Then the door to the bathroom opened and out walked the fourth masked man. He had the alligator mask. All he said was ‘Turn around’. And we did.” She stopped. “I’m sorry, but could I have another one of those?” she asked, and after I passed the pack to her, she took a smoke out and drew a deep breath before lighting it. Fresh smoke curled and twisted in front of her face.
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Marcello’s Revenge – Chapter 8 – Julie and The Alligator Man – Part I

Here is part one of chapter 8 of Marcello’s Revenge. A chapter I am not altogether satisfied with, to tell the truth. A necessary installment, but one I think rushes the narrative a bit. Though I am a bit undecided on how to edit and in an attempt to qualify Julie’s ease with Robin and her willingness to divulge information, I have attempted to rectify this, but feel more is needed, and perhaps a complete rewrite depending on the course of the narrative as it develops. I think it will eventually come down to it, but at this point am hesitant until I am more aware of the course it takes. But anyway, for those who enjoy long reads and have been following the story thus far, here is the first part. Hope you enjoy  and thank you for reading.

Earlier installments can be found:

HERE

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 Julie was in the shadows, between the light that spilled out of the open bedroom door and that which filled the front room. There was a heavy awkwardness, her schuncy eyes staring at me and the highball glass I carried where the unserviceable remnants of ice cubes and the pimpled green skin of a lime wedge gleamed. “Good morning,” I said in an attempt to ease the uncomfortable tension.

“Morning,” She said hesitantly, looking around and noting the location of the front door. “Where am I?”

“My house.”

“And who are you?”

“My name is Robin Mentor. And you are Julie Stills, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right. How did I get here?”

“Francine and I brought you. She is the one who took you from the party out to our car. Oh, it was also she who got you ready for bed when we got here. If you should have had any concerns.”

“Who’s Francine?”

“My girlfriend.”
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