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TITLE (EDIT)
A Likely Story |
DESCRIPTION
Charlie Kelly comes to grips with the police.
[846 words] |
AUTHOR
Higgins |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
-
[January 2005] |
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (25)
A Miscellanea Of Senryu (Poetry) - [145 words]
A Random Sample Of Senryu (Poetry) A cross section of Senryu poems. [152 words]
A Sampling Of Senryu Poems (Poetry) These poems follow the 5-7-5 pattern of Haiku but do not focus on nature or the seasons. [154 words]
Actors And Dancers (Poetry) - [109 words]
Country Music (Poetry) Descriptions of superstars of Country Music. [171 words]
Grandpappy's Red Flannels (Short Stories) The moon was out. [383 words]
Horror And Mystery Writers (Poetry) - [98 words]
Lame Overused Expressions (Poetry) Unimpressive redundant expressions. [156 words]
Like Ocean's Eleven (Short Stories) This story takes place in a military setting, mainly Point Barrow, Alaska. Russian officers and members of the U.S. Army interact. Although potential danger is hinted at, there is more humor than dang... [1,414 words]
Literary Theory And Criticism (Poetry) A dozen of the very best critics and literary. theorists that America has produced. [75 words]
Make Mine A Boilermaker (Short Stories) A brief story of a construction worker who goes into business. [559 words]
Max's Antics (Short Stories) A brief tale of a wealthy alcoholic. [553 words]
Mole M. Speaks (Short Stories) An alcoholic who once played minor league baseball speaks to the members of the Royal Palm Room of Alcoholics Anonymous. [1,147 words]
On Art (Poetry) - [245 words]
On Health Matters Including Diets (Non-Fiction) A fourteen point plan is offered which may lead to. health improvement. [727 words]
On Mathematicians (Poetry) Brief descriptions of the contributions of some world class mathematicians. [165 words]
People Who Should Be Phased Out (Poetry) A senryu attack on those with irritating manerisms. [103 words]
Popular Redundancies (Poetry) Many words used in writing or discussion could be eliminated. [81 words]
Red Flannels (Short Stories) The moons were shining. [383 words]
Rock And Roll (Poetry) A poem which includes a sampling of Rock and Roll luminaries. [163 words]
Senryu Poem Of Popular Oxymorons (Poetry) A poetic rendering of combinations of contradictory or incongruous words. [40 words]
Some Unnecessary Words (Poetry) Why be superfluous? [36 words]
Spiritual Readers (Poetry) Those who look into crystal balls, read palms, interpret cards,... [153 words]
The Moral Of The Story (Short Stories) If your golf game was disappointing, you can always say "It was a nice day in the country." [1,868 words]
Will Hunter Plays Golf (Short Stories) The game of a good golfer deteriorates. [997 words]
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A Likely Story
Higgins
Charlie walked into the Traveler’s Inn at about seven-thirty in the evening. It was
late in July and the weather was warm and humid, so he was wearing only a bathing suit.
One could tell by his staggering swagger that he had been drinking heavily, but was
cocky and his chin wore the shadow of a week’s growth of hair. He stood at the bar short,
unshaven, somewhat inebriated, clad in black bathing trunks, and his erect posture and
protruding gut defied the world.
Addressing Buzz and I he bellowed, “Les go N’York.”
“But my car is not fit to drive and Buzz and I haven’t four dollars between us.”
“Oh t’hell wi’ that…les go N’York,” Charlie replied, as he extracted a fifty dollar
bill from his scanty attire and commenced waving it before our noses.
We left the little town of Willimantic, Connecticut an hour later. Willimantic was not
really a town, it was not a city, it was a way of living. It has been said that it is a good
place to grow up in, so you can move away. One commercial buff said that it would be
wise to build a fence around it and charge admission.
Buzz was driving, I was drinking some beer we had purchased on the outskirts of
Willimantic, and Charlie was sleeping in the back seat. Shortly after we entered the
community of New Avon Charlie awoke. He had sobered up some and he wanted to
drink. “Stop at the Eastcheap Tavern,” Charlie yelled. “Les stop for a drink or two. I
got friends there.” We tried to talk him out of it because we knew that Eastcheap was the
lowliest of the lowly and the rottenist of the rotten, but Charlie was not to be denied.
[A Likely Story] Page 2
Shortly after we walked through the entrance a tall husky man with a black patch
over his left eye startled everyone by screaming. “Charlie Kelly can’t come in here.” The
man stepped from behind the bar, removing a stiletto from his belt. Although Charlie was
still far from being sober, he knew better than to ask for trouble, so the three of us sharply
turned about and made an exit. I later understood the reason for the unkind welcome
which we received. One story had it that Charlie had once rolled the bartender. Another
theory was that Charlie had actually lain with the bartender’s wife.
As if things weren’t bad enough, when we got back to the car Charlie insisted on
driving. We knew that we could not reason with him so we finally agreed, asking that he
maintain a reasonable speed. He guided the auto down the highway in a weaving fashion
but we knew that he would become very indignant if we called it to his attention. So we
offered him additional drinks, hoping he would renege his driving prerogative in order to
focus his attention more fully on drinking.
His erratic driving was finally detected by two officers of the law and they pursued
us in their cruiser. The flashing light atop their vehicle sent out red and blue beams of
light, and their siren was wailing. Charlie accelerated, swerved onto a side road, pulled
into some bushes, and turned off our lights. We waited there for a few minutes but the
police car did not come. Charlie chuckled at his own cleverness as he turned the car
around.
“I’ve lost more than one cop this way,” he said. But we had scarcely gone a dozen car
lengths when we heard the siren and saw the flashing light. John Law had outsmarted us
again. Conceding defeat, Charlie pulled the car over to the side of the road and eased it
[A Likely Story] Page 3
to a halt. The officers emerged from the cruiser, one being tall and tubercular, and the
other a rotund and red-faced man. The latter tried to take Charlie aside and befriend him.
“Listen, Kelly, me name is O’Malley, Mike O’Malley, and….”
“O’Malley, a likely story,” interrupted Charlie with scorn.
The policemen told us to drive to the station and that they would follow. I got behind
the wheel and tried to start the machine. After several fruitless attempts the officers be-
came impatient so O’Malley drove our car while the other followed in the cruiser.
Although it was three o’clock in the morning, there were quite a number of
“civilians” in the station. A number of them were the weeping mothers of teenage boys
who had been brought in on their first drunken charge. A stern police sergeant was
presiding. When Charlie’s turn came the court again grew silent. The little man with the
big belly, scantily clad and wearing a heavy growth of hair on his face stood defiantly in
front of the sergeant’s desk.
“Young man, have you been drinking?” inquired the austere officer of the law.
“Of cour-r-rse, stupid,” replied Charlie, rolling his “r” as the Spanish do.
The somber scene changed to one of merriment. The erstwhile despondent mothers
were laughing so hard that tears were rolling from their eyes. All three of us spent the
weekend in jail.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2004 Higgins |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
September 2004 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2110
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