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Saturday, February 9, 2013

First Chapter of Fawn's Peak

I thought I would share my first chapter of my newest upcoming novel called "Fawn's Peak" please read and give me some feedback. Did you like it? Why? Do you want to read the rest of the novel?


Chapter 1

As he thought about his plan he smiled and felt a bit light on his feet. “I will finally be free of the bastard father who beat me.” he said out loud for no one to hear but himself. He thought about how his life would be different if this man no longer existed and it excited him.
“I will be happy again. I will be aloud to run my life the way I want to, not how he always told me too,” he sputtered under his breath. “I hate him!” he said through gritted teeth. He caught a glimpse of himself in the window and was taken back.
For a brief moment he saw his father, the man who did nothing but harm to him and those around him. The man that made him suffer all these years.
He looked at himself in the window looking at how his blonde hair was too long and framed is square face and chin. When he noticed how grimacing he looked he retreated and looked away.
“I am my father,” he said sullenly. “I am the most hated creature on this planet. I cannot survive here another day knowing that I am as evil as my father could ever be.”
Joe decided to make a cup of coffee and to think more about his plans to rid the city of this horrible person. He walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. He watched the steam as he poured it into the cup.
He picked up the cup and walked into the den over to his desk. He set his cup down on an old fashioned mahogany desk. It was a gift. Given to him by his mother when he had graduated from college.
Joe sat down on his black leather chair and picked up his cup and held it feeling the warmth flow through his cold hands. A flash of his mother’s face came into view. He cracked a smile while he thought about the last time he drank a cup of coffee with her.
I had just finished graduating High School. I was so excited to finally finish school and get out into the world of journalism. All my life I wanted to be a journalist.
During my junior year of High School my mom had encouraged me to apply to any college I wanted. I always saw myself going to school at NYU and heard they had an extraordinary Journalism program.
However, my father refused to allow his son to waste away his ability to come into the family company and help run it with his father.
All I wanted to do was to escape from this dreary city of Chicago. I hated this city it was full of crooks and high-powered liars.
I applied to several colleges including NYU and I’ll never forget the day I received his acceptance letter. This was the best day of I life. I was too nervous to open it so I took it to my mother, Edith and told her to open it and read it to me.
She laughed at me and ruffled my hair, “Anything for my little man,” she said. “How about a cup of coffee with your old mother first and then we will read it together,” she told me while walking over to the corner cabinet.
She opened the white cabinet door and took out two cups and poured hot coffee into both of them. She reached into the cupboard and took out the sugar bowl and added to lumps to her coffee and stirred. I always drank my coffee black no sugar or cream it wasn’t manly to drink your coffee with all that stuff in it.
I watched her as she moved around the kitchen as if her feet never touched the ground. I always knew she must be an angel in disguise. She turned and brought the cups over to the table. She handed me mine and sat down placing hers on the table..
 “Are you ready?” she asked. I felt like I would explode into a million pieces. “Ok, no wait…” I said. I watched in horror as she opened the letter with the opener.
“Don’t tell me!” I yelled. It felt like my heart was going to explode and I would disintegrate right there in front of my mother. “Oh stop,” she said softly as she unfolded the letter.
I could see her eyes moving from line to line. I felt like I would explode if I did not find out what that letter said. “Well?” I said anxiously. “So you are going to be the next Walter Cronkite,” she said smiling.
“What?” I stammered. “You heard me,” she said playfully. “Really Ma, I got in?” I asked. “Yes baby you got in,” she said waving her arms in the air.
“I knew you would. I never doubted that you wouldn’t do what you want to do for the rest of your life. I love you so much and I am so proud of you son,” she said.
I could feel tears welling up and new I better not cry. I was a man for God’s sake. I couldn’t be showing others how weak I was. “Thanks mom,” I said choking on my own words. I was so overwhelmed. I couldn’t believe I would finally get out of here for good.
I heard the phone ring and it brought me back to reality. “Hello,” I said while raising the phone to my ear. “Is this Joe?” the voice on the other side asked. “Yes, this is Joe. Who is this?” I asked.
“I don’t have time to get into this but I want you to listen to me. I have information that links you to a man named, “Jones” and he has contacted me to do some undercover stuff for you,” the voice said.
“Who is this?” I demanded. “Joe calm down or I will have to hang up for now and I won’t do anything for you. So you better listen!” he demanded.
“Like I said, I have information about you regarding how you need to change your identity and to get some paperwork to back up this new identity. Is this correct?” the caller asked.
Joe’s mind raced. “Who is this?” he thought to himself. “If I say “yes” it could be a cop and if I say “no” he might hang up and never talk to me again.
“Tell me what Jones told you,” I requested. “He told me that you need to change your identity for purposes that revolve around safety. He told me that you need to do this as soon as possible. So here I am here to help you but you need to give me the information in order for me to help you,” he told me.
He sounded sincere and I didn’t think that he was a cop but you can never be so sure. “How do I know you aren’t a cop?” I asked shakily. “Why would I be calling you if I was?” he asked while giggling.
“Well you could be a cop and I wouldn’t know it,” I told him seriously. “Man I don’t have time for this crap,” the caller said. “Ok, ok. I will have to take your word for it,” I said. “I am in need of changing my identity. I want to become someone different in my life. I will need a new social security number, driver’s license, you know all the needed material,” I told him.
“Ok, do you want me to pick the identity for you or do you have something else in mind?” he asked. I sat there contemplating that very question. I had been thinking about it for days. I started thinking about a few weeks ago when I was over at my father’s office.
My father had called me and said that he needed to talk to me. I didn’t want to go but he insisted and I knew I would have to go. I only did this because I promised my mother while she was on her deathbed.
My mother died when I was away at college. I knew my father had something to do with it. He always treated her badly. I hated him for that.
My father was the CEO of Bench glass a company that made stained glass products. He started the business when he was young and had first come to America from Germany.
His father, my grandfather was an artist and had become famous in the world of stained glass. You can travel all over Europe and see his work.
Well the company took off and now at the age of 60 he had businesses all over the world. You could say he was a multimillionaire and revered as the “Glass King,” around these parts.
We lived in Chicago on the outskirts of the city. I drove over to his office that night around 9 pm to speak to him. I parked my black jaguar into a spot and hopped out.
I walked toward the three-story building. My father’s office was on the third floor. I headed in through the double doors and saw the night guard Watson there. “Hey Watson. How’s it going?” I asked. “Oh well you know it is good,” he said. Watson had been working for my father’s company for more than five years and he was still the night guard.
As far as I knew he had never even received a raise or if he did it was minute. I always wondered why he stayed. “You going up to see him?” Watson asked. “Yeah, he called me earlier and told me to get over here that he needed to talk to me. So here I am,” I told him.
“Well he has been grumpy today and I would be careful about talking to him,” Watson warned. I knew that meant I would end up getting my head cut off as usual. “Well I will be careful, promise,” I told him as I walked toward the elevator.
I pushed the button on the elevator and waited while watching the light. The doors opened and I walked into the elevator and pushed the button to go to the third floor.
I stepped off the elevator on the third floor. I could hear someone being chewed out and I knew I was in for it. It was my father’s voice.
Halfway down the hall I froze and just stood there listening. “You dumb witted idiot. How are we going to make money if you can’t keep up?” he boomed. “I’m sorry Mr. Koontz, I will keep up from now on. I promise sir please give me another chance. I have a family to feed, please,” the man begged.
“Well I too have a family to take care of and I need for my people to be up to certain speed out there on the line. If you can’t keep up you are out of here!” As a matter of fact you aren’t able to keep up so you are fired!” he boomed.
“Please, I beg you Mr. Koontz. I need my job and I am a hard worker. I can get better. I can’t lose my job. How will I pay for my bills? How will I be able to provide for my family?” the man said choking back tears.
“You will have to find work elsewhere because you aren’t working here anymore. I won’t give you a job ever so don’t come back either. Now go pack your things and go home,” he told him sternly.
I was still standing in the hall when I saw a short man around 50 years old leave the office. He walked past me and I could see tears streaming down his eyes.
My heart leaped out of my chest. I needed to move but felt stuck to the floor. I couldn’t move out of fear. I was too afraid.
My father was slamming things around his office as I took a step closer to the door. I finally made it to the door and just stood there staring in at him.
My father, a stout man whom hovered over six feet tall. He has the blackest of hair and brown eyes with bushy eyebrows. He had a black moustache that was rather thick. He was dressed in a suit and had his back turned to me.
I gently knocked on the door. He spun around and saw me. I thought I would have a heart attack. “Finally you made it. Get in here!” he shouted at me. “Close the door. I want to talk to you in private,” he said.
I closed the door and headed over toward where he was standing. He was standing behind his black desk. In front of the desk were two chairs to sit in and behind them was a couch.
“Sit, sit down,” he said while pointing to one of the chairs. I did as he asked and sat down in the chair on the right. “I called you in here to talk to you about running my company over in Toledo,” he said while starring at me.
He made me feel uneasy. I didn’t want to work for him he was a tyrant. “Look I thank you for thinking of me but I don’t want to run your company.”
“You don’t really get a say,” he said. “What? I am an adult. I can do what I want,” I told him. “Who pays for your bills?” he asked. “Well you…” “Exactly,” he said cutting off my words.
I knew I wasn’t going to get out of this one. “Father, look I am a journalist. I like to write. I am not interested in running your companies.”
“Well you don’t have a real job and journalism isn’t really a manly job. You need to be working in business. That is where the money is. You aren’t going to make anything out of yourself as a journalist.”
“Yeah, but it is what I love to do,” I told him meekly. “So you think you can be like me in Journalism? You think you will be running a fortune 500 company and making lots of money?” he asked.
“I don’t care about the money,” I said as I stood up and started pacing his office. “Well you sure like it when I pay for your bills,” he said sarcastically.
I was caught. I didn’t know how to get out of the trap. I was going to have to place my dreams on hold and run this company for him.
The worst part is that he knew he had me. He always had me. “So this is how I see it. You will go over on Monday and start setting up your office and running the Toledo division. I won’t take “No” for an answer so give it up kid.”