A wicked Left

A wicked Left

A Chapter by Cherrie Palmer
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part 2

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Marion puffed furiously on his pipe. His green eyes danced, again he commanded. “Come in, if you’re going to!” His voice held a firm mandate with no yield to it. He gave the girl a wink then removed his glasses for good measure. A vein appeared along his neck as adrenaline coursed through him.


Edith whispered, “I see you brought my Marion, some trouble.” She smiled as she finished wrapping her ankle. “He gets bored up here... a retired fireman, you know, but Trouble is his mistress. He was a bit of a boxer back in his day. The man loves a good fight. You sit back he’ll take care of everything.”

 
Fern studied Edith’s smile; a cocky smirk that said My Marion can do anything. The girl had most of her hair fixed, once she felt like it was as good as it would get she sat back and waited for the show to start. With long slender fingers, Edith gently brushed Fern’s hair from her face. Edith’s eyes twinkled, and for a small moment, she remembered back when she had been so young.

 
Marion firmly fitted his hands into the front pockets of his grey tweed trousers. Although they had no intention of going out, he believed in proper attire and wore the vest to match. The big man rocked back on his heels. Almost giddy with anticipation, and in his mind, he could hear the ringing of the bell.

 
 
In the short time, Fern had been in the cottage. The sleet had turned to snow. Streaks of lightning lite up the willow that stood in front of the window. A gust of wind blasted the door wide-open. Two large figures stood in the entry as an oversized dog broke into the house the Great Dane leaped into Fern’s lap. The beast already outweighed her, and his birthday still two months away. The disobedient pup nuzzled his head on her shoulder, whimpering softly.

 
“Dane, you bad boy, why did you run off?” She tenderly whispered in his sopping wet ear.

 
“Your girl ran off without her dog. I guess our friend scared her silly.” The man’s words were overly dramatic. In a friendly gesture, he pushed his fedora back, giving them full access to his facial features. His smile looked rehearsed and lacked sincerity. “Our pal had a seizure back in the park.” Again, his words were simple, and his smile oversized and plastic. “We had a terrible time getting her dog up here to you, folks.”

 
Fern remained silent but seemed to blink out Morse Code. Trying to tell Marion that they were liars. He refrained from any show of emotion. He studied their body language, watching for a shift in their stance. They assumed the girl lived here, and for the time being, Marion would let them.

 
 “Yes, my Lass is a bit timid, but we thank you for returning our dog- a-”

 
“Dane.” Fern blurted with her best attempt at sounding Irish.

 
Marion and Edith both turned their heads on a swivel and smiled.

 
 “I’m sorry.” She added and cocked her head, puffing at a stray curl that hovered between her eyes. She drew from Marion’s strength. She felt at home and safe. So, she leaned back on the Shamrock covered armrest and stared at the man in the brown suit.

 
Both men gave her a small nod. Like playing chess, they smirked. “No worries,” Said the man. He turned to Marion, “The weather is frightful, how about a ride back to our car? Were parked down on 5th.”

 
“I can manage that, girls you lock up, and I’ll be back in a flash.” Again, Marion winked, at Fern and the three men walked out.

 
Edith and Fern giggled. “That’s some accent you have there.”

 
“Ain’t it, though,” Fern said, still trying to copy Edith, and again they busted out laughing even louder.

 
With the men gone, so was the threat. The mood in the room seemed lighter and carefree. “When Marion gets back, he’ll call the police for you. How about a hot toddy to warm up?”

 
“Well, it sounds lovely. I’ve never had one, I’d like to try it.”

 
“You set there and tell me about yourself, while I whip up your new favorite drink. Come, Dane,” and he did. The dog just seemed to belong.

 
“I have a small apartment on the edge of the park.”

 
“That’s nice dear, have you lived here long.”

 
“No, a year come January, I attend the art school two nights a week.”

 
“Oh yes, your hands look like, hands of an ar-ti-st,”

 
 “Also, I work full time at the bank. I love the city.”

 
She waited for Edith to reply, but nothing, “Edith, did you hear me? Do you need some help?” Still nothing. Nervously she stood, then hobbled to the front door, the cold front had pushed through, and heavy snowflakes were falling down.

 
Marion’s car still sat out front. She left the door a jarred and struggled back into the den to the oversized chair in the corner, a beautiful fabric in buttermilk white, covered in Shamrocks. Climbing over it, she hid in the shadows, bumping her knee. Fern stifled a cry. The girl was scared. She would look foolish if it turned out that everything was fine, but everything didn’t feel fine, so she waited.

 
Edith walked in the den, followed by the two men. A lone tear ran down her face. Her mind racing, wondering what they had done to Marion. She walked to the corner chair and sat down. Little did she know the girl hide right behind her.

 
“What have you done to my Turtle Dove?”

 
“Your, Turtle Dove, socked me in the chops.” The man in the brown suit bellowed, now missing his fedora. He gave the red whelp on his chin a rub.

 
“Yeah, so, I put out his lights.” The little man said, showing a small led pipe. “Now you be nice, and we’ll be gone in just a minute.” This had been the first time the smaller man spoke. It was plain to see he enjoyed his work, as he tapped the pipe in his hand.


“Now,” he said, pointing the pipe at her. “Where’s your girl?”

 
“I don’t know? You’ve scared her off, again. Look at the door.” Sure enough, the door pulsed in and out, moving with the draft as small crystals of snow floated inward.

 
“I told you to stand by the front door, while I went around to the back! You’re worse than a kid!” The two men squared off. Knowing they had more important things to do, they refrained from their base instincts. In unison, they turned back to face Edith.

 
 Fern reached her hand under the chair and carefully touched Edith’s heel. “OH!” She screamed. Trying to recover from the fright the girl had given her. “My poor Marion, out in the snow.”

 
“Shu-ut up.” The smaller man said as he headed to close and lock the door.

 
He studied the layout of the yard. He was wondering where that stupid girl would go. However, before he could consider anything else, Marion, sprang up from the darkness and laid him out with a wicked left. The force of the blow sent him stumbling back. It took him a second to hit the floor, not that it matters; he was out for the count.

 
Marion charged forward. The man in the brown suit spun on his heels, ready for a good fight. He flattened his feet, squared his hips, and delivered his best right. Marion didn’t even flinch but gently smiled. He returned the blow knocking the man to one knee, and the fight raged.

 
Without any delay, Edith called the police. Their Jamie would be on duty. He was a fine and brave officer, a man of 29,” a police corporal with honors. Once Edith completed the call, she lifted cuffs out of the desk and ran to cuff the first man. Not that he needed it, he still slumbered from a hammer of a left.


Jamie had left a pair of cuffs in the hall sometime back. Fern peered over the chair with big eyes, and like a big chicken, Dane peered around the kitchen corner, ears perched, and growled.
 

Edith now sat in the opposing corner, sipping her toddy. Edith hoped that the police would hurry. Marion’s, not as young as he once was, but Edith’s confidence in him allowed her to settle back and watch, she pulled up her cover and waited.



© 2023 Cherrie Palmer


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Reviews

Hellos, Cherrie Palmer,
the second chapter is even more captivating,
the thriller is so racy as said before,
It takes me to the whole scene,
wow, what a miladjustment (unconforting and scary) moment for your character Fem.
Great Write! ----1809 Black Plague December

Posted 11 Months Ago


Cherrie Palmer

11 Months Ago

Marion is one of my favorite characters. This story has so many pieces of my life sprinkled inside... read more
1809 Black Plague December

11 Months Ago

Oh yes, he saved the daaay.
But I'm partial to Fem. Keep it going. Keep it going. Will tak.. read more
Oh my God! Just as I was thinking they've killed Marion!
He turned out to be such an amazing fighter. It felt like he actually loves it and was waiting for something like this. You certainly had my blood racing as I read this chapter. I enjoyed it so much!
Another great chapter Cherrie.

Posted 11 Months Ago


Cherrie Palmer

11 Months Ago

This might be my favorite chapter. I really like Marion and Edith. I'm really thrilled you liked .. read more
DIVYA

11 Months Ago

I did and so much! Looking forward to the next chapter already. :)
The story getting more interesting. Dear Cherrie. Added interesting characters and I loved the conversation. She is a cool character. Maybe too brave? Thank you dear friend for sharing the amazing chapter.
Coyote

Posted 2 Years Ago


Strong chapter .. I especially think you have successfully "shown" me who the people are without "telling" me ... not an easy task says i! I was emotionally involved as when Marion went down I felt so saddened .. I wanted to hang out with him more .. and suspense grew as I worried what would happen to Edith and Fern now that Marion seemed out of the picture. ... love the characters .. the men are especially bigger than life .. I started reading with my own Irish brogue :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) thanks for sharing .. i am hooked
E.

Posted 3 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

3 Years Ago

My grandpa Malone was Marion Frances(we called him poppa Frank). He was a real character. :) I'm .. read more
Einstein Noodle

3 Years Ago

good stuff says i! ;)
The action in this part reminds me a little bit of watching cartoons or slapstick comedy in the vein of the Three Stooges . . . the action seems to have a bit of exaggeration to it . . . I personally love exaggerated characters & action, so I don't see this as a drawback at all. I have also noticed that sometimes you use commas in places where the flow of the reading feels impacted rather than clarified by such commas. These are small matters in the face of your stunning ability to spin a yarn commanding rapt attention! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 4 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

4 Years Ago

I'll tell you a secret the comma and I are not friends, we never have been. As a matter of fact I t.. read more
barleygirl

4 Years Ago

Hilarious! *wink! wink!*
loved this chapter. even though I had to get up close to read it due to the small font. but other then it was very enjoyable to read. I can't wait to read the next chapter so I moving on to see what you have in store for me.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 5 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

5 Years Ago

They've been stuck in an alley for a while. I decided I needed to finish this story and flesh it ou.. read more
Hi Cherrie, I see The Light on the Hill, A Wicket Left and the 3rd. part of the story are in fact one story. The titles threw me off. I read "A Wicket Left" first, thinking it was the whole story. It was a cozy warm story with that old time folklore flavor to it. Nice work. Very enjoyable. I also read several of your poems. I enjoy your ability to create crisp solid and sometimes illusive images in your works. I just read your Chess poem this morning. I like how you remind us that chess has emotional components to it. You create nice soft images. Keep up the good work. Have a great day. Earl

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 6 Years Ago


Cherrie Palmer

6 Years Ago

I enjoy reading my work aloud. Most of the time i take an image or a base line idea then dress it. I.. read more
Earl Schumacker

6 Years Ago

Hi Cherrie, I responded "yes" to being friend's with you. I'm not sure if it went through. I am n.. read more
Cherrie Palmer

6 Years Ago

well writing has always been part of who i am.

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Added on April 21, 2017
Last Updated on April 29, 2023
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Author

Cherrie Palmer
Cherrie Palmer

Oakland, AR



About
I am a published poet and love poetry. I live near the White River, and love trout fishing. I find my surroundings a great inspiration to me. I also have two books on Amazon Kindle: Obsession Starts.. more..

Writing

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