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Week Two (November 1-November 9) DONE
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ok this is my forst time trying this so it might not be good at all, but here it goes.The year was 1939, and it was a wonderful day in Hawaii, until it happened. I was sitting on my porch, and I saw some planes flying overhead. This was not strange, but what was strange was that they were not OUR planes. As I looked up into the sky, wondering why they were there, one of the planes dropped my worst fear. It was enormous, and heading strait for one of our naval ships, but then the plane dove strait into the ship, and then I knew what was happening. I ran inside, telling my family to go into the basement and not come out. I got into my car, and it wouldn't start. A plane was coming up behind me, and he dropped a bomb right above me. By pure chance, my car started and shot off just as my fears exploded. We were at war.
I was in the air force, so I drove strait to the hangar. Then my windshield shattered, sending shrapnel whizzing past my face; they were now shooting me. I slammed on the accelerator, shooting out of their range. I stopped the car, jumped out, and by a great series of luck, landed unharmed in my plane, my car just behind it. As I started the engines I prayed my family was safe. I was out of the hangar in almost no time at all, and the japs started the dogfight. Left and right, planes were falling out of the sky, exploding before I could tell if it was my team or my enemies’. I was headed strait towards an enemy, and I shot him, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he kept going strait. I tried to avoid him, but his plane crashed into my wing. I started falling, and I prayed, “God! Please protect my family! Let them know I love them!” and I crashed into the cold, dark sea.
By the grace of God, I survived. By the grace of God, I crashed only 5 miles from land. But this land was unfamiliar. I looked for people, but then I realized I was on an uncharted island. I did find one person, though. He had also crashed the night before, too. He was a Jap, an enemy. I looked coldly at him, but he just smiled and said, “待つ！私は敵にしたくない！私は家を取得する方法を知っている！メインしてください害はありませんが、私はあなたに損害を与えることはなくなります！*”
I said “I don’t speak Japanese!” and he started to draw in the sand. He drew two stick figures, and above them he wrote “友人”. I realized what he meant, because that symbol was “friends”. I nodded my head in agreement, and he showed me how we could go back. It took many years, but we eventually created a makeshift glider, and he eventually learned to speak a little English. We would leave in the morning.
We had also constructed a large ramp, two in fact. We put the glider at the top of the taller one, and he said, “You go, I will push.” I asked him what he meant and he said “need much speed to make glider work. I will push.” He started running down the ramp, I was in the seat. At the last second, he jumped on, making the glider creak. Fortunately, he had calculated the weather perfectly; a wind pushed us up into the air, toward home. When I got there, everyone was acting as if nothing ever happened. I walked into my house, and my kids stared as if I was a stranger. My wife came out of the kitchen and dropped a bowl of cookie dough, staring strait at me. Then I saw what it was. My friend was standing next to me and he said “We friends now. It is O.K.” I introduced them to my new friend and they let out a sigh of relief. Then one day I realized the only way to do the impossible, is to become friends, and forget that we were ever foes.
* Wait! I do not want the enemy! How to get the house I know! Please do not harm the main, but I can give you no harm!**
**I don’t want to be enemies; I know how to get you home. I won’t hurt you, so please don’t hurt me.
(I think this is how my grand parents met, it probably isnt but...)
The stories I have heard over a million times. He never remembers he has already told us. It’s amazing how someone who was a great, smart, strong person has a memory disorder.
But I do have one favorite story.
1940
I was sent to the sub base. Of course everyone needs an engineer now. It took forever to make it past the security. Soon salty smells hit my senses. I was told I would be here for a while, so I had to bring everything I brought from home. Mostly all I brought was clothing. But I did have a picture of my mother and father. When I told my parents my plans to join the army my mother begged me to stay home, but my father said her was proud of me. That is the main reason why I am here, to gain my fathers respect.
A woman came up to me.
“Arthur am I correct?” she asked, my golly she was an attractive woman.
“Yes ma’am.” I replied.
“Right this way!” She then smiled at me, and I’ll be darned the sun shone a little brighter.
She led me to a submarine and showed me to my quarters. It didn’t surprise me they were tiny any had 6 bunks.
“I’ll tell the captain you’re here.” She left and soon returned with an older man in his fifties. His beard was well trimmed, face seemed weathered, and his uniform looked like it had just been pressed. All in all he seemed like a well-kept man.
“Alright son,” He said, “Marty here will show you around and were you need to report each morning for repairs until your duties are done.”
“Yes sir.” I said my chin high and arms behind my back.
“Good man,” The captain replied.
The tour was not to long and Marty explained everything perfectly. When my day was done with I, to be honest was exhausted. And thankfully my first night I slept well, and in future that didn’t happen again.
Over the next few months I saw a lot of Marty, she was a good girl. I learned that she was a few years older than my twenty-four. Each day I learned more about her. Then she was transferred. That was something that didn’t bode well with me. Within a year I was sent to Pearl Harbor to help out there, fixing thing up, and evacuating people out. I had never forgotten Marty. Then one day a miracle happened. A sub landed. All my buddies told me not to get my hopes up they all knew Marty was the girl of my dreams. And out of that sub she came smiling as beautiful as ever.
The stories I have heard over a million times. He never remembers he has already told us. It’s amazing how someone who was a great, smart, strong person has a memory disorder.
But I do have one favorite story.
1940
I was sent to the sub base. Of course everyone needs an engineer now. It took forever to make it past the security. Soon salty smells hit my senses. I was told I would be here for a while, so I had to bring everything I brought from home. Mostly all I brought was clothing. But I did have a picture of my mother and father. When I told my parents my plans to join the army my mother begged me to stay home, but my father said her was proud of me. That is the main reason why I am here, to gain my fathers respect.
A woman came up to me.
“Arthur am I correct?” she asked, my golly she was an attractive woman.
“Yes ma’am.” I replied.
“Right this way!” She then smiled at me, and I’ll be darned the sun shone a little brighter.
She led me to a submarine and showed me to my quarters. It didn’t surprise me they were tiny any had 6 bunks.
“I’ll tell the captain you’re here.” She left and soon returned with an older man in his fifties. His beard was well trimmed, face seemed weathered, and his uniform looked like it had just been pressed. All in all he seemed like a well-kept man.
“Alright son,” He said, “Marty here will show you around and were you need to report each morning for repairs until your duties are done.”
“Yes sir.” I said my chin high and arms behind my back.
“Good man,” The captain replied.
The tour was not to long and Marty explained everything perfectly. When my day was done with I, to be honest was exhausted. And thankfully my first night I slept well, and in future that didn’t happen again.
Over the next few months I saw a lot of Marty, she was a good girl. I learned that she was a few years older than my twenty-four. Each day I learned more about her. Then she was transferred. That was something that didn’t bode well with me. Within a year I was sent to Pearl Harbor to help out there, fixing thing up, and evacuating people out. I had never forgotten Marty. Then one day a miracle happened. A sub landed. All my buddies told me not to get my hopes up they all knew Marty was the girl of my dreams. And out of that sub she came smiling as beautiful as ever.
Mod
Fall orb of peace on the act of war
The world and its people
The universe sleeps into a microcosm
-A.JC
Chapter 1
The Charming Man
Espionage was it? The tools of World War have many faces, brought many faces to be out of sequence and out of focus. Gallant stood rubbing his eyes and breathing in full exhilarated gusts of air. Rushing to his side was his Maverick and his maddening methods. Details of the crime: the chance of a case of murder outside the natural act of killing men in the Killing Fields and struggles had an advantage for rich harvest if on the right side of the government. And just for the government. Gallant had but one night left in pursuit his legal case and pin down to finish a further investigation.
Two nights before he came home early after a charity benefit, the Height Covenant Society, of a pact in society, a kind of soiree evening that he would participate in, and the finding of a hand squalled note under his door. Scent of a woman, and possibly her hand in writing. With public conciseness as it were exposed to war, and its war criminals, and some form of its justice. And a special focus of the members of the Covenant Society. But it was for Gallant his father's love, his charity, his being head of the board of finance, and his uncle the president of Height Covenant. And a demented feeling that if there was anything to pursue in the Height Covenant Society, it would not mean busting members of his family. If anything, it is perhaps the press had just heated debates without principles, pressure of damaging facts, to the inevitable untruths to the public so that the legation of the Covenant Society, leaving the members with just enough space to stay above their own hot water.
Furious members answered the papers, and threatened them. Investigations had already been going on for months, but the truth was known, there were no truths, and had Gallant brought into question members of the Covenant Society, breaching their trusts, when or if they were actually covering up something so big the press could not sink in it.
Chapter 2
Captive
Maverick had a maddening toothache. He hobbled around Gallant, was posing as a punching bag, and posing questions in the firing line. Those stories published to the press would not be true. Gallant was almost certain. But it was the raging fire he would be the feeling of guilt for. First his uncle had him in his office the next morning, seeing him at the charity. Uncle Alto had seen the soldier Gallant had become since the war. And hearing stories about the mystery cases, and Gallant success, he was ready to make the appointment of an examiner for Gallant to the Society, to root truths of those illegal acts in question purported of the members of his private society. Uncle Alto was certain anything its members were to do, did not include a need of a cover up. Or even outside of the law in most cases, especially during a time of war.
He brought out the scrawled note, once again reading, before attending his meeting with his uncle. On the note was squalled, "leave no stone unturned, a threat to the president, kill them all ...” which only brought a white face on Maverick. But Gallant, trained not to leave unnoticed any clue, they turned and waved it around in the air for a second, as if it were a leaf in autumn loose dancing. Maverick looked uncomfortable, "What have you there?" He asked about Gallant and his strange dance. "I'm not perceiving the question of the truth until the truth is known" he pursed his lips. They left together.
Chapter 3
In A Microcosm
Standing in Alto’s office in Brightwood, Maverick sat in a comfortable high back chair. Gallant was smoking a real trademark cigar, listening to the conversation turning into questionings. Maverick just listening, not losing their attention, but once in a while just with a creative nod. And twice a laugh.
"I do not see a way out of this Uncle Alto, this is bad, very bad indeed, bad ..."
"And yet I do not see it clearly, can I?" Alto pressing down on his desk.
The moments have passed, it would in an unresolved question whether it was making sense, just then began a knock at the door. Maverick looked up surprised. Alto found the moments of silence to be unbecoming. "In", his call answered the door.
Another clue at a time like this will not help all the other stories. All new leads to untrodden areas was not out of the question, but was most unwelcome. The door opened, and Alto’s wife entered with her shopping bags. She looked between Gallant, which ran up and kissed her on the mouth, and Alto, the smoke in the room and their looks of surprise.
"Aunt Olivia, it is so nice to see you." It was always. She was a flame from endured strength of their modest family. Always had been.
"It's a beautiful day, Gallant. Has Alto, now have even you involved? Anyway, do not answer that, if I know Alto, it is a secret. I have only come for the car. Can you help me please, these bags.” she hung in a rectangle of reside, “It will not take a moment."
"Of course. But first, I regret, let me introduce my collogue Maverick,”
Maverick stood, taking a bag, and she, with her hand in a firm shake.
"Actually let me," he said, taking the bags.
Mod
"Does she know what is going on, Uncle?" Gallant asked.
"Yes, of course. I could not believe to keep something like this away from her. Not for long. She just thinks it will all end one day. Perhaps the war would also."
They gave each other reassuring. The war had resolved from the outset. The Japanese invasion. The cruel Germans. Possible Communist break-up leading to domination of the world. The struggle for the very freedom that lay to the root of the people will be impossible if the fighting lasted too long.
Chapter 4
The German Lady
Gallant had dressed. Had a cup of coffee, a bite and a little chocolate. He sat down in, near Maverick. Maverick was brooding over the morning paper.
"Anything as worth reading?"
"Yes, a story about the last night torched art gallery."
"Oh no, what one?"
"It is impossible to know them, it is not open for another five months."
"Hopefully nobody injured."
"That's just it, seventeen people in the fire."
"Ouch, an art meeting of a kind?"
"Maybe. It was a small gallery. He says " Art Gallery on flame to kill them all ... "
"This is strange. Arson?"
"Yes."
They spent the day hunting for a prime suspect. A woman survived her husband, owner of the gallery. She had a familiar scent. Gallant noted that at once. It was so unusual. He would only smelled it perhaps once before. He broke into questions he needed answers for.
Was it arson? Does your husband have enough insurance? Will it all cover benefactors for the claims of insurance? Will the gallery open again?
For all questions, she shook her head. He could see she looked at him with alarm. She would pause to tip her head up and down for a brief moment. Gallant stopped writing notes, look at her puzzled. What does it mean? Her house was bugged? He wrote a note on a piece of sheaf turning it to her. Can you see a wire or if you are in danger, is there someone listening?
She nodded again.
Chapter 5
Origin of The Note
They took a walk through a park They walked closely together. They began to trust in each other's confiding, and his learning everything they knew about the note she wrote. As she went to him three days before, slipping the warning note under his door. She had heard about him from her husband who reads the paper. And more about what the men were talking about. A conspiracy, one that to the President of the U.S. of America. They learned of his involvement of intentionally losing the war, the communist, as the Germans.
She took it upon himself to write the note, asking Gallant with a warning to investigate the U.S. president. Little would she know her husbands direct involvement would lead to his own death. She was really filled with shame. Her family came to America two hundred years ago as settlers. They worked the land, and America has become their bread and honey.
The President had directly acted as a communist. Gallant and Isabelle had seen Alto in Brightwood.
"This confirms many hints about these precursors to be slandered to the papers. It’s all rather obvious is not it? His making up stories, flushing out other organizations, his public protection, he’s a communist. And this leads to his own crime syndicate. He is a Mob President, not just an ordinary state President."
"Is it possible, uncle, under our noses like this?"
"I am more afraid it must be, and what Isabelle says what must be true, we need people to citizen arrest the U.S. President, exposing him for the fraud he is."
Chapter 6
A Run For Freedom
Alto is organizing a posse. They rose to the White House. They made their accusation, while they tried to gain entry into his office. When the door finally broke down, a nearby hatch near the fireplace was discovered. In it had been an opening, an easy escape tunnel. Where he ran down the tunnel. They gathered torches, running into the tunnel themselves. After a short pause they saw a short man, on his attempts of a curt escape. He shot a gun with bullets, two men fell. Gallant knocked the gun away, knocking the U.S. President on the chin, leaving him unconscious.
The End
Mod
Congrats Janelle! You win this week! ɔıɹ3's and Aurthur both tie for second place.
YAY!great job Janelle!
YAY! i got in 2nd! and in a WRITING COONTEST!
this is the first time ive ever goten any place for writing!
cool!!!! Keep writing, and I'm sure you'll get first!
Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.
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This week's Topic is World War 2
. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You could either have the main character cold, the word cold, about the sickness cold... practically anything....
Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,000 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)
Good luck!