I have to write a short story for school, so I'm revising the beginning of a story that I started a LONG time ago. Care to read it? ONE LAST SHOT Introduction Adam Carson wasn’t always a lonely, strange man. He was once engaged to a woman named Cecelia Thompson. She was considered the most beautiful and talented person in South Winston. Before she began singing, Cecelia met Adam. They dated for a couple years, and Carson popped the question in spring. They had a fairy-tale wedding planned in fall, but little did Carson know, what would have been the best day of his life became his worst. It all began when Cecelia started to walk down the aisle. She was draped in a blue silk dress, with many freshwater pearls gleaming from the neckline. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled up in a bun. Carson, with a sparkle of tear in his eye, waved to her. He wore a blue pinstripe suit. She smiled. All of a sudden, she collapsed. Adam rushed to her side and took her pulse just like he was taught in med school. It was slow but steady. The wail of ambulance sirens followed. One of the EMTs walked up to Adam. “Mr. Carson?” Carson nodded. “We think Miss Thompson had an aneurism. She has a fifty percent chance of either falling into a coma or passing away.” Carson sobbed loudly. “However, we think she’s going to make it.” With little hope, Carson ran out to his car and sped home, sobbing all the way. But the worst news was yet to come. As Carson had found out from the hospital receptionist, Cecelia went into a coma with about a thirty percent chance of recovery. About forty-five minutes after Cecelia was admitted, Carson’s ill father, Frank, passed away. Apparently, the cancerous tumor on his stomach erupted. He stiffly told the receptionist that he didn’t want to hear the rest. Carson was positive now that his life was over. After the mourning was over, Adam and his brother Tim took over their father’s franchise, Carson’s Chicken. It was a fried chicken restaurant which, unlike many, delivered. Tim had always been the head chef, but Adam had wanted nothing to do with it. He had taken up a second job as a taxi driver, which didn’t pay more then pocket change compared to the delivery job. His car was parked in a faraway garage every day. “Wouldn’t it be neat to deliver in your taxi?” “Interesting. I pop out of a taxi wearing my full uniform, chicken hood included, and walk up to our customer. Odd.” Even though Carson tried to shake it off, Tim insisted on (as well as paid for) the rights to attach a “Carson’s Chicken-Taxi Services off Duty” sign attached to Carson’s taxi. Chapter I: The Routine Carson stomped into his apartment. It had been a long but successful work day. Adam removed his uniform and slipped into a pair of orange boxers. He glanced at his digital clock, which was innocently sitting on his pale blue nightstand. It read 8:30 PM. After a slight debate in his head, Carson decided to go to bed early. It had never occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten dinner as he fell asleep. The next morning, Adam’s alarm clock woke him up at 7:00 to the radio. (Purple Haze was playing. Adam couldn’t help but to chuckle at “Excuse me while I kiss the sky/this guy.”) He wolfed down three microwave blueberry pancakes. Slowly and unhappily, Carson slipped the uniform (chicken shaped) hat over his neatly set comb-over. Next came the blue and white Carson’s Chicken tee shirt and khaki pants. Lastly, Carson gently slid on his trademark olive green penny loafers. Next up on Carson’s “routine” was the ascent into his taxi. He walked up to the delivery taxi as if it were the electric chair. He inspected the sign and said to himself “Tim is just a bit too fond of his business.” After that was said and done, Carson climbed into the black p’leather driver’s seat. The car smelled like fried chicken, which was only to be expected. It was indeed a sickening scent. To try and mask it, Adam put up 5 pine tree shaped air fresheners. Unfortunately, it was still no good. About 10 minutes after his departure, Carson arrived at his place of work. A man wearing an apron with ragged brown hair greeted him. This man was quickly identified by Adam as his younger brother, Tim. “Oh, here it comes,” muttered Adam under his breath. Chapter II: Typical… “Good morning, Adam. I have four deliveries. All on Chapel Street. Try to get going within the next 10 minutes,” said Tim with a solid pat on the back. “Very well,” groaned Adam and received the package from Tim. And so he went on his way. Several groups of children playing on the sidewalk stopped the games and said “Look! It’s the crazy chicken man!” As you would expect, this made Carson extremely irritated. He rolled down his window and cried “I’M NOT CRAZY! DAMN IT KIDS! STICK TO YOUR KICKBALL! ” Carson rolled his window back up, cursing under his breath. He decided to block out the world with some loud radio. Of course, the only station that came in clearly was in Spanish. Adam had only taken Spanish in high school for 2 years. He understood every tenth word. (Usually corazon, the Spanish word for heart.) “Ugh, a love song,” sighed Carson. He was jealous. Typical. Chapter III: The Brothers Carson When Adam returned to the restaurant, he found Tim waiting for him. Tim’s grin turned to a look of severe puzzlement as Adam stormed out of the taxi. “Kids again?” “Yes, Tim. Kids AGAIN. Ya know what? Why am I here?” Tim flinched. “I am fifty years old, Tim. I’m starting to have arthritis. I’m OLD.” Tim frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well I DO have arthritis and I’m 45. Welcome to the club, brother.” Adam’s face turned from anger to shock, from shock to confusion, and finally from confusion to defeat. “I am older than you, Timothy Howard Carson, therefore having authority over YOU.” “Whatever you say, Adam Stanley Carson.” Tim laughed, and so did Carson, because he knew just how dominant his younger brother was, and he also knew he was in no position whatsoever to change that. “I’d better be getting home. I don’t want any more kids ruining my day. I just want to go home and watch whatever is on Comedy Central.” “Mmkay, but don’t hurt yourself. I really do love you, Adam.” “I know. I love you, too, for what it’s worth.” Adam Carson was gone in a flash. Chapter IV: Mabel Mabel Francis Ross was a single mother of one; a very intelligent seven-year-old daughter by the name of Arianna. Arianna’s father, Elliot, was Mabel’s husband of 9 years. He is now remembered as one of the bravest Marines stationed in Baghdad. When she learned of her husband’s passing, Mabel checked herself into the South Winston Mental Hospital, where she stayed for a week and was discharged because there really wasn’t anything wrong with her. Just like a certain Adam Carson, Mabel Ross attended Rose Creek Preschool in East Winston, Winston County Elementary in her hometown of South Winston, James Buchanan Memorial Junior High School in Madison and Fairview High School in, surprisingly not Fairview, South Winston. They also both went to Yale School of Medicine, but Adam graduated with a nursing degree by the skin of his teeth and Mable graduated as salutatorian. She is now an EMT. She was there when Cecilia went into her coma. But she did not know that her high school and college sweetheart was going to marry her. That's all I have so far. Love, Lina
