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Heavy Metal - Chapter 1.1: The Last Day, part 1

 
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Thunderbird
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 08, 2009 5:46 pm    Post subject: Heavy Metal - Chapter 1.1: The Last Day, part 1 Reply with quote

Heavy Metal
Chapter 1.1
The Last Day, part 1



The day began much like every other. As the aroma of coffee filtered into his senses, piercing the veil of a vague, dreamy slumber, Walter Steele grumbled himself awake.

Tiny beams of sunlight lanced over the distant hills and through his window, stinging his eyes. Walter snarled as a breeze carried fresh cheer into the room, forcing the lace window curtains to flap lazily. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed from a barn roof, heralding the arrival of dawn.

With a grunt, he sat up and flung his legs over the side of the bed, sending his toes to search for his slippers. A faint clatter could be heard from the kitchen below, but it had become such commonplace for Walt that he hardly noticed.

Upon finding his plaid slippers, he stood to his feet, his spine and joints crackling under the pressure like rice bubbles exposed to milk. He groaned. It was the same groan he gave every morning at this juncture; though admittedly, it had gradually become more pronounced over the steady march of time.

Faint smoke from bacon, searing on a pan in the kitchen below, began to mingle with the coffee in the air. Soon the eggs would be on and breakfast would be ready.

Walter scratched his ass as he shuffled across the shag carpet covering the bedroom. It was a terrible olive-green, and for some time now, Betty had been complaining that it needed to be retired for some new flooring. In fact, Betty seemed to complain about a lot these days. Along with the rest of her complaints, her squawks regarding their outdated carpeting had invariably fallen on apathetic ears.

Crossing the threshold into the bathroom, his slippers began to slide across cracked and pitted, yellowed linoleum. He must have stood in front of the toilet for a decade, waiting for the rain to come. His muscles slowly eased up and offered blessed release. The sound of dribbling helped to mask over the incessant humming from downstairs. Jesus, he thought, Why must she constantly drone on like that?

Flushing, he turned to the sink to wash his hands. His fingers were thick and gnarled, but they were still good hands, strong and capable. He ran them through his sparse, white hair to flatten out the wild silver bed-head he’d developed over the course of his slumber.

Gazing into the mirror, he asked himself what he usually did at this point, My god, how did THIS happen?, disgusted by the droops, wrinkles, crow’s feet. At least he had aged in some semblance of respectability, unlike his wife. No need to shave today, he mused as he ran his fingers across his bleached stubble.

He scratched at an itch on his snow covered chest, glad to see there was at least some muscle tone remaining there, though every inch of those muscles ached as usual.

Turning to the side, he inspected his growing belly. It was just a bit of extra baby fat. A few too many beers, maybe. But nothing too worrisome. More concerning was the hunch that had developed in his shoulders. It wouldn’t be long now before he was outright stooped.

“Walter,” called Betty from the base of the stairs. It was like clockwork. Walter briefly wondered if she always called for him at this moment because they had grown into a routine, or because he spent whatever time remained before breakfast staring at himself in disdain.

He grumbled out the same answer he always gave, full well knowing she wouldn’t hear him from the bathroom, “Coming dear…”

Walter creaked as loudly as the stairs as he ambled his way down to the dining room. He winced when he saw Betty. At least she had become thin and wiry, rather than wide and rotund like so many other women her age. She smiled like a prune.

“I made you some bacon, eggs, and toast dear,” she announced as a matter of course.

“I’m not blind yet,” he replied sourly as he glanced at the meal stationed before his seat at the table.

“And it’s a good thing too,” she retorted. He knew what she meant had nothing to do with the newspaper waiting for him next to his plate of food. It sounded as if she intended to have this conversation, no matter how badly he wished to avoid it.

He slumped down into his seat. The food did smell good, as usual. “You didn’t break any of the yolks this time. I’m impressed,” he muttered.

Betty slipped into her own chair across from him, a dry, brittle seat long since needing a new coat of varnish. Her gaze strove to pierce the invisible shell of self-absorption that surrounded the man.

“Walter,” she said, her voice wavering with scantly contained emotion.

“Don’t start, Betty,” Walter growled as he devoured an egg, yolk juice dribbling from the side of his lip. Flipping through the paper, his body language made it clear he was more concerned with the news of the day than anything she had to complain about.

“No, Walt. I can’t leave this alone. Not today,” she stated with firm resolve.

“Hmph,” Walter just grunted in a low rumble, conveying some interest in what his eyes had found on the page. “Did you see this picture here of Saddam’s statue pulled over? Not so big now is he?”

This blunt attempt at changing the subject would not derail Betty, of course, but like all the other complaints she served him, she would talk on, whether he seemed to care or not. He really wished THIS complaint would be left alone.

“I just can’t understand why you need to do this,” she moaned as she slapped the table in frustration. Walt kept reading without a flinch. “I love you Walter! You know I love you.”

A silent pause hung in the air as Betty prayed for her words to wedge past his stone heart.
Her prayers were unusually answered in this case, though she briefly worried she might regret it.

Walter’s eyes rolled then came to meet her gaze for a moment. “I love you too, honey. You know it has nothing to do with it.”

“Why then? Why must you risk your neck like this? Why don’t you just let Dave do it?”

“You know why,” Walt sighed as he went back to reading the headlines, slowly masticating on a chunk of bacon.

“No, Walter, I don’t know why! I don’t see the point in all this foolishness!” As she spoke, Betty’s voice rose, wavering more and more with every word. “This could cost you your life!”

“My life?” Walter harrumphed. “What life? My life is already over Betty! All I have left is this!”

“What? Some quest for reward money? Some way to prove you still have ‘the right stuff?’ You’re eighty two years old Walt!” Betty exclaimed, exacerbated with her husband.

“Yes… No… I mean… Damnit Betty!” Walter shook a quivering fist. “I know how old I am and you know why I need this! I spent twenty long years waiting for a chance like this and what do I have to show for it? It’s not about the damned money! We’ve obviously got plenty of that!”

“HAD plenty…” Betty interjected, “Until you went and spent nearly every penny of it on this crusade of yours!”

“IT’S WHAT I LIVE FOR BETTY!” Walt shouted. Taking a deep breath and settling back into his seat, he lowered his tone in an almost equally dramatic fashion, “I trained. I was ready. I waited. And I waited. I prepared. And I waited. I prayed for them to call me up for a mission. They passed me up for each and every one. Before you knew it, Apollo was over and I was retired.”

“Oh get OVER it Walter!” Betty sputtered. “The past is just that… the past. And right here… right now… you have someone who loves you very much and who’s terrified that you’re going to get yourself killed. I don’t know how I could go on living without you Walter.” A tear slid down Betty’s cheek. She sniffled, shifting the thick spectacles on her nose.

“You worry too much my dear. Too too much,” Walter said, finalizing their conversation as he rose to his feet, stuffing an egg and a slice of bacon into a folded piece of toast. “Thanks for breakfast.”

He paused as he turned to leave. “I love you too. And I’ll be fine.”

As he strode out of the dining room, through a nicely furnished living room and through the front door, slamming it behind him in a huff, Betty simply sat at the table and sobbed.

~

A quick glance inside the barn reassured Walter that his life would indeed very likely change forever by the end of this day.

There it was, covered in tarps, finally completed. All he needed now was the fuel. The night before, he’d loaded the aluminum barrels that would, if all went well, be filled with that last element by the end of this day. And if he could succeed at that task, he could be leaving by midnight.

Walt felt a surge of excitement at the thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t recognize the risks of course. Sure, he could die; probably would, really. But, in his mind, it would be better to die in pursuit of his dreams than to let his dreams die. Without them, he was already finished.

Thank God for the rewards if this works out. I’d have never convinced her to let me get this far if it hadn’t been for the government’s little contest. Indeed, if things worked out as hoped, he would more than make up for the money invested. But as he had claimed at the breakfast table, it wasn’t about the money.

As Walt left the barn and walked across the driveway, he glanced toward the open blue sky above.

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PostPosted: Thu May 12, 2011 8:37 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Damnit Betty!”

Dammit or Darnet. So i take it its two mixed words. Damnet < Wink

"THIS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR--" like this ""This is what I live for--"

Usually the text is just made larger, not capitals. In a real publisable book, you can't have capital letters for shouting. Instead if you'd like to express shouting, add the exclamation marks and if you want to write your book like fearless, you can always make the shouting text bigger, but still have its old way. It would be much better to read it in normal form and bigger, than to read something that is capitalized, if it was the chapters title. It would work. Very Happy
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PostPosted: Thu May 12, 2011 8:47 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I asked my wife in bafflement at this, if it has only been modern texting and chat that introduced the capitalization=shouting issue. She confirmed your view on that was shared.

Hmph.

This is an interesting issue to bring up! Anyone else have an opinion on all caps not being allowed to represent shouting in a regular novel text?
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PostPosted: Thu May 12, 2011 10:39 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I have numerous books where capitals are used (Fairly regularly through the Harry Potter series for example!) to denote shouting, and none where a bigger font is used.

I see no problem with it at all.
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PostPosted: Thu May 12, 2011 5:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'm actually having trouble recollecting a book in which I've seen the letters enlarged to show that a person is shouting. On the other hand, I've read plenty of books that have do use capital letters for such a thing. Surely if the letters were enlarged, it would mess up the spacing between the lines of text? "I want chocolate!" Yeah, even with that, and that's not much larger, there is a noticable difference. It's alot neater looking to use capitals instead, and I personally think looks more effective, in getting across the urgency or emotion in the text. "I WANT CHOCOLATE!" Looks much better! It would never in a million years have entered my head that there was anything wrong with it anyway.Wink
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PostPosted: Thu May 12, 2011 7:38 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Well... a worthy topic of debate anyhow. My australian wife definately agrees with BBS on this one.
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PostPosted: Thu May 12, 2011 7:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ok guys I'll do you a favor, since I've signed up to Dorrace publishing, I'll ask them if Capitals is used in books, whether in their publishing house or the others. But I'll have to read through their document they've sent me first... Shocked I'm glad someone agrees with me.
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PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 9:58 am    Post subject: Re: Heavy Metal - Chapter 1.1: The Last Day, part 1 Reply with quote

Thunderbird wrote:


Walter snarled as a breeze carried fresh cheer into the room, forcing the lace window curtains to flap lazily.


I love this line Thunder, such a simple sentence that conveys so much about the character and his state of mind. I love this sentence because it is a great example of "show don't tell'.

Thunderbird wrote:
He must have stood in front of the toilet for a decade, waiting for the rain to come. His muscles slowly eased up and offered blessed release.


Another great couple of lines, being a guy perhaps I empathize with it more than others but good stuff.

Thunderbird wrote:
It sounded as if she intended to have this conversation, no matter how badly he wished to avoid it.

“Walter,” she said, her voice wavering with scantly contained emotion.

“Don’t start, Betty,” Walter growled as he devoured an egg, yolk juice dribbling from the side of his lip.

This blunt attempt at changing the subject would not derail Betty

A silent pause hung in the air as Betty prayed for her words to wedge past his stone heart.
Her prayers were unusually answered in this case, though she briefly worried she might regret it.


You set up this dynamic very well and you showed a the depth of their emotions and their relationship clearly and beautifully. Well done.

I'm hoping at some point as time allows to go through chapter by chapter and catch up and comment as well. Sorry I'm so late on the bandwagon.
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PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 6:16 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thanks for jumping on board E! My plan for this weekend is to take a step back and really get into editing this thing too so its probably a good time for you to be joining in actually Wink
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