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Racing With The Moon
by
John Faucett


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As she opened the door, it was like entering a crypt sealed to life. The smell of death permeated her nostrils. The thick dust, was like snow piling up from a storm. Petrified cake lay where the boy had left it. Darkness, death and dust where everywhere. On the table, a trumpet lay lifeless. The little boys toys were scattered about barely visible. Pictures of Catch, the woman and the little boy lined the mantle.

She stopped, aware that she was being watched. Turning abruptly, a scream all but died in her throat. She sliced through the darkness with her flash light to fend off the terror, but you can not fend off, fight or postpone death. Trembling fearfully she headed towards the stairs in this empty tomb. Her hunger kept her moving forward, one foot, then another, the hunger drove her on. She needed to chew, digest and swallow this house of death, in order to help the man she loved. Step by step, she climbed the stairs of the crypt "deeper" into the bowels of this tomb she crept, pausing at the top of the stairs, she remembered the day of the accident, it seemed to her that the family was not at fault.

The driver of the truck Chris Lamson of Trumble Connecticut was intoxicated and had never stepped on the brakes or tried to warn the approaching car. Even if he had, the fully loaded semi truck certainly never would have stopped. The results would have been the same, two D.O.A. and one male with severe head trauma. She remembered holding the mans hand for an instant, hearing the approaching sirens, she went to set up a blockade to keep the onlookers away, other police officers were already taking statements from witnesses.


Claude copper
In his copper clad clanger
Catching and corralling
Criminal corruptible's
From Connecticut


Her mind raced back to the night before, they had driven up to Danbury Connecticut for a delicious seafood dinner at Jim Barbarie's Restaurant. She had the Alaska king crab. Jordonna savored the thought of dipping the fresh succulent crab in the warm drawn butter. Remembering how it had melted in her mouth. Chuckling to her self, she will never forget the look on Catch's face as Samantha the waitress placed the king cut of prime rib, which they are famous for, in front of him.

His mouth literarily hit the floor. Stammering as he spoke , all he could manage to say was, "I feel like Fred Flintstone about to eat a brontosaurus steak."

The owners, Thomas and Michelle Barbarie were personal friends of her brother John. Johnny had brought her there years before, she had immediately loved the ambiance and the way that they treated every patron like they were a king. It was not unusual to see the owners or the chef Ernie going from table to table making sure "the patrons were completely satisfied".


To be tasted and swallowed
Chewed and digested
Delicious as the sunshine
Refreshing as the rain
A feast of reality


After the meal, she and Catch had taken a walk on the boardwalk along the lake holding hands, taking in the sights, the arcade, the vendors, the tilt a whirl, inhaling a deep breath of air, she realized she was falling in love. Catch never talked about the accident, or his past. Almost as if his mind had been wiped clean, like a slate blackboard in school.

As they strolled by a club, the "blue" sound of a saxophone drifted outside, still holding hands. Catch suddenly stopped, as though he had walked into an invisible wall. He stood in the door way, having let go of her hand when he had walked into the invisible wall, she noticed that he was moving his fingers to the bluesy sound of the saxophone, she watched intently as his fingers played the invisible instrument. "Catch," she said, "do you like the blues?" as he still continued to play the instrument only he could see. He ignored her question, "Catch do you want to go inside?" only when she grasped the sleeve of his jacket and tugged him inside did he stop playing, she led him to an empty cocktail table in the front.

The old man, on the stage continued playing that soulful blues sound. The saxophone moaned as the old man sat on a stool, she tugged on Catch's arm, sit she beckoned, Still watching the man he sat, he watched the man intensely as the song ended. She turned to order drinks from the waitress, whose name tag read Crystal. "I'll have a coffee," Jordonna said, "with cream and sweet n' low on the side, what would you like Catch?" She turned towards him as she asked the question, Catch had got up as though in a trance, she repeated the question again, but he was deaf to her voice. He headed towards the stage, which was empty.

The black man, had moved to the back of the stage where someone was handing him a beer. Catch walked towards the steps of the stage where he proceeded to climb them, still in a zombie trance, sitting on the same stool, the old black man had sat on a moment before, he reached for an abandoned trumpet, which sat lifeless on a crate, next to the microphone.


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