Spring Break! To many it's full of great many memories and the chance to break away from all responsibilities - especially college. Some travel, party, or veg in bed all day. Some even (GASP!) take advantage of the time to work on their college papers to take some of the pressure off the last few weeks of school. There should be a law against doing homework during spring break.
However, one spring break creates a nightmare for our hero, Victor. In Haunting Footsteps, we open or first few pages to see Victor re-encountering that nightmare as he tries to sleep. Enjoy today's excerpt and if you have questions for Victor's interview as we'll be jumping back and forth through our main characters, even our evil, stalking janitor, to ask them how they felt about this part in their lives. Today, I think when Victor wakes up from his reoccurring nightmare, he says it all.
When Victor grumbled about being bored, the
unwanted spectacle in front of him was not what he had in
mind for entertainment. The only reason he stepped
through the smoky door was JD’s promise; as soon as the
annoying, roommate drank too much, they would ditch
him back at the dorm. The egotistical, rich boy owned a
sweet ride, and Victor and JD planned to take it out for a
tour of the town...or even farther if they wished.
As he watched the scandalous display in front of him,
Victor did not realize his jaw had dropped until the
dryness in his throat formed an oversized choking lump.
His paralyzed mouth only closed on instinct to swallow
the sickening burn in an attempt to breathe again.
He did not want to believe what he saw!
Her long body strode by in slow movements. She spun
around, and slid down the rickety and tarnished pole to
crawl like a wildcat. Her glazed look remained blind to
the jeers, whistles, and fists raised with an assortment of
dollar bills in sacrificial offering to their mythical
goddess.
He knew her—the real her. The empty green eyes were
just a shell of the young girl he once loved—now they
reflected nothing of her. Her dance moves were a
complete one-eighty from the ballet she studied at which
he had marveled. This was a complete contradiction from
the cheers she used to encourage him on the football field.
The silver ring still decorating her right hand caught his
attention as it shimmered in the strobe lights and stood
out all wrong in a place like this. Her being in a place like
this was wrong. The ring represented the promise of
purity until marriage, but the so-called “Gentlemen’s
Club” he’d been wrangled into held nothing pure.
The identical ring he still wore, out of sentiment, felt
ice-cold against his burning flesh. His pulse raced with an
inferno of anger. His fists clenched tight, wanting to
release their fury, knock some heads together, and get her
out of there.
Who became his main target? The creep who dragged
him in there promising delusions of grandeur Victor never
dreamed she would be a part of.
“Gentlemen.” A familiar voice spoke behind him,
adding to his nightmare.
Victor and JD looked back to see Pastor Jon give them
a chastising look and beckon them to follow him.
“You don’t want to be here tonight,” the youth pastor
warned, as he led them to a bar vacated by those wanting
a closer look at the show on the cheap catwalk.
“That says a lot coming from ‘a man of the cloth,’” JD
sneered and leaned against the scarred wood, his eyes
inquisitive and accusing.
“One who sees college has not improved your taste in
friends, Mr. Daniels.”
JD shook his head with a disgusted low grunt and
looked toward their former table still occupied by his
roommate and a smelly ogre of a biker. “I didn’t choose
the snobby creep for anything. College administration
assigned us together. So, what’s the problem?”
Victor tried to concentrate on his friend, who always
bore a defensive attitude around anyone of authority
questioning his actions, but his own eyes kept wandering
back to her. No matter how it sickened Victor to see what
had become of her, he could not stop watching Kinsey. He
feared if she left his sight for an instant, he would lose her
again.
“That.”
Victor heard the youth pastor’s curt answer, but it took
JD’s forced shove against his shoulder to divert his
attention from the stage to follow the clergyman’s
pointing finger. Victor’s worst nightmare blackened
further. He knew the dancer on stage, and he knew the
man sauntering through the main entrance. It was not just
the mandatory ID flashed, but also the shining badge of
Officer Donovan Huntingdon—Victor’s grandfather.
After a short conversation, the bouncer pointed the way
to their previous table.
“What’s going on?” Victor demanded.
“Your buddy’s about to spend an extended spring
break vacation behind bars,” Pastor Jon sighed.
“Ted? So what? You’re here to watch?” JD asked.
“I’m here on a social services call…”
Victor watched the youth pastor stop in mid-sentence
as his eyes froze on the well-applauded scene on stage.
Could Victor’s expression have been a mirror image of
when the dance first started?
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Victor demanded. “I didn’t want to
believe it, but it is Kinsey.”
Her dance routine stayed close enough to the edge to
allow patrons to continue to stuff crumpled money into the
scant black cloth that shimmered in silver sequins and
barely covered her. As she reached for the pole at the end
of the catwalk, she leaned out into the pawing crowd, and
a set of hands grabbed her to pull her offstage.
Kinsey fought and protested as a bald man trapped her
body on his lap. Victor did not need to hear the brawny
man’s words to know Kinsey did not like what he said. His
laughter rumbled in a roar that echoed through the bar
before his mouth forced a rough and clumsy kiss on her
lips.
Her feeble fists beat at the muscled shoulders beneath
the tattered, sleeveless shirt. Her screams and pleas to be
let go ripped Victor’s heart as he pushed his way through
the gathering crowd.
“Let her go!” Victor’s own demanding thought came
from another voice beside him.
The bartender rushed over with an aluminum bat in his
hands. It reflected the strobe lights as he gripped it
threateningly and thumped it in his open palm.
“The dancers are only to watch! No touching except
tips!”
“Oh, I’d pay more than a fat tip for a piece of this!”
the bald man’s raspy laughter taunted.
He held Kinsey out
of reach to avoid her scratching finger nails.
“He said let her go!" Victor commanded, as he
stepped even closer.
The bald man stood straight and tall, towering over
him. As JD stepped up to stand beside Victor, one of the
bald brute’s friends took Kinsey. She looked dazed and
confused as she tried to fight against the tight hands, but
her drunken state made her appear more like a marionette
on tangled strings.
“What’s she to you, kid?” asked the giant.
“She does not appear to want your company,” Victor
said, taking a step closer to the man easily holding off
Kinsey’s attempts to resist.
The man who pulled her off the stage threw back his
head and laughed.
“Victor!” called a voice he did not want to draw
interest from, but looking around Victor saw his
conversation was the center of attention.
A sudden blindside punch threw Victor to the ground.
The next thing he knew, the whole bar exploded around
him as though everyone had an opinion on the subject of
Kinsey. Shattering glass rained down in jagged shards.
Booze splashed everywhere—mixing, spraying, splattering
and drenching everything, creating a slippery path.
Kinsey’s frightened screams escaped as she lay just
within reach of him. Victor stretched out for her; his
fingertips could almost brush hers. He could take her
hand and leave with her. He would never want to let go or
have her return to this place. If he could just move a little
closer...
Just as his fingers grazed hers, a hand caught his arm
and yanked him back.
“Kinsey!”
“C’mon, Victor, before your grandpa catches you,” JD
warned, pulling him up from the slick floor.
“I can take her with me!” Victor knew he could protect
her. That was all he had wanted to do since the day she
jump-roped into his life.
In all the chaos, JD dragged him out against his will—
against his need to help her.
“I have to go back,” Victor declared, straining against
his friend’s hold. He had just found her. The thought that
he came across her in a hole in the ground did not matter
now that the shock had worn off. All he knew was he could
not leave her in there.
“Are you nuts?” JD asked with blood streaming from
his nose.
“I have to help her!” Victor tried to yank away, but JD
would not let go.
“There’s nothing you can do except get arrested. Now
come on.”
JD continued to pull him away as Pastor Jon stepped
out. Before Victor could utter a sound, the young
clergyman pushed him back.
“Go. I will take care of her,” Pastor Jon promised and
kept a hand on Victor’s chest, trying to get him to calm
down.
“But I have to help,” Victor repeated his argument.
“No. You can’t.”
Victor did not understand. Surely, this man did not
forget the relationship he once shared with the frightened
young woman.
“I can’t just leave her,” Victor tried one last time,
determined to rescue her.
“And I can’t let you go back in there. It’s too
dangerous. I’ll tell you what I can later.”
“That’s not good enough!”
“It’s all I have,” Pastor Jon said before turning and
disappearing back inside the club.
Gunshots sounded.
~ * ~
Victor woke from the familiar dream. The memories of her up on the stage still haunted him. It always started the same, and he woke up at the same spot, not wanting to leave her—fearing for her life. He wiped the sweat from his face and looked at the red numbers on the digital alarm clock. Time to go for his run and pray the fresh air helped with the pain.He picked up the framed photograph from their freshman Christmas dance, and stared at her smile. His finger traced her face, as he closed his eyes again.
The memory had come back to him the past week, more and more vivid each night. How he wished it meant he would see her again soon. It would tie up so many loose ends from the past, and maybe heal the hole she left in his soul. If only she would answer the questions no one else would. He needed to see her again, hear her voice, and know the truth.
Ways to purchase Haunting Footsteps: www.wingsepress.com, www.amazon.com
Fifty-cents of each purchase goes to World Vision to help where needed most.
No comments:
Post a Comment