Even near death, and maybe because of death’s proximity, Dora looked beautiful to him. The feelings he had once had for her – as impossible to act upon as they were before – now came rushing back.
Read it in “To Hide in Athens and Other Stories”!
On a mountain in central Greece, with a November wind presaging winter, Nikolas Covo crouched near the fire in a 55-gallon drum, his toes and fingers numb, his heart a dead lump. The stale bread he tried to chew felt like a clod of brick. Despite his hunger, he thought only of the last time he had seen his family, their tearful goodbyes when all knew somehow that the goodbye was forever.
Stay tuned for the annoucement that “To Hide and Athens,” which contains “Among the Partisans,” is available on Amazon for the Kindle readers among you. “Among the Partisans” was first published in Seven Letter Words in Spring 2010.
Run, rain, behind you lurks the
Sun, a day too late
Now, the wet and wet you are but
How you know is beyond
My understanding
My life my blood
You make it sad to kiss
You rude and chilly beast
[first published in Midwest Literary Magazine July 2011]
Nikolas Covo tossed his bag into the bed of the pickup truck and jumped into the passenger seat. Alex, a Christian orderly whom Dr. Covo had known for years at the General Hospital Ippokratio, and a family friend, had the vehicle moving before Nikolas had even closed the door. He risked immediate death if found harboring a Jew.
“Slouch down.”
The boy did as he was asked, dropping to his knees, bending over so that his face was an inch from the cold metal floor of the vehicle. He gagged on the gasoline fumes.
Bart Jones sat crumpled behind Chief Cooper’s desk. Sobbing, he covered his face with his hands. Grimly studying their young colleague were Cooper and Sergeant Bridges. Cooper, a craggy-faced veteran with years on the job, jotted notes on a legal pad. Finally, he spoke.
“Bart, pull yourself together.” The crying only intensified, and Jones placed his head down on folded arms. “Look, you’re not the first cop that had to take down a doper. You were trying to save Bridges’ life, right?”
Jones lifted his head, blew his nose, and finally found the strength to talk. “I don’t know, Chief.”
“Fuck you don’t know! Of course that’s what you thought!”
“Coop! Calm down! Can’t you see he’s upset? You can’t be yelling.”
Cooper continued more quietly. “We’ve known the brat was a doper for years, right?”
“Maybe.”
“And we heard that he just fucking shot someone, right?”
“Sure.”
“We’ve got the dispatcher tapes proving that. And you got the shotgun out because you knew PJ had a gun, right?” Cooper spoke in a voice of pure logic.
“Sarge said ‘Get the shotgun,’ but, yeah, PJ probably had a gun.”
“Not ‘probably.’ In your mind, he had a fucking gun on him, didn’t he?”
“Right. In my mind, he had a fucking gun. But …”
“But what?” Bridges interjected. “Coop is exactly right.”
“But, you frisked him, Sarge. He was clean.”
Cooper sighed, frustrated. He had a difficult student. “You didn’t know, positively, 100 percent, did you?”
“I saw …”
“You saw PJ turning …. in an aggressive manner … and you fired in self defense … and the defense of your partner. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
For a while, Jones said nothing. He could not stand the accusatory stares, his fellow cops waiting for him to say what they felt were the right words. Finally, he whispered, “My heart was beating so fucking fast.”
Cooper picked up the thread. “Right. You’ve got this adrenalin surge. Man, we’ve all been there. It’s natural, the body’s response to extreme danger. It’s how our species survives.”
Jones looked at Cooper with gratitude. “Heart pounding, yeah. Of course. And then .. and then a flash of fear. I could almost see PJ coming around with a gun.”
Cooper scribbled again and, after a minute, said “Okay, you’re going to sign a statement, then you’re on paid leave for two weeks. You’ll go home and tell that pretty wife what happened, but tell her exactly the way it reads in your statement, and then don’t talk to anyone. Anybody asks, they have to talk to me. Now, let me get this to the typist.” He left his office.
Bridges gazed for a few seconds at Jones, who still swiped with a tissue at tears that streaked his face. “I know this is hard, Bart, but you thought you were saving my life. Thank you.”
Jones took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought. Thanks to you, Sarge, helping me figure this out.”
“We wear the badge, we’re brothers, you know that.”
###
A reviewer on Amazon comments: “Real people occupying a real world” September 14, 2011 — “This is a well crafted first installment of what I understand will be a set of short stories about Nate and Adel. I like writing that evokes clear images of place, emotion and motive force. Nate and Adel has all of that. These fallible two make their way in a messy world. I hope they will be ok.”
“Nate & Adel” by Bruce J. Berger is especially touching. Nate’s sense of loyalty to his daughter is so sweet and genuine, but wonderfully unique.” Literary Lollipop. 9/3/10
“Nate & Adel and Other Stories” now available on Kindle for just $.99.
Here’s a small excerpt from “Nate & Adel,” the lead story, to whet your appetite:
And then, breaking into his train of thought, he heard Red Barber’s excited Southern twang. “And there’s a line drive into the gap in right center. It’s going to the wall. Snider heading around third and they’re sending him home! Furillo digging for third! Here’s the throw! Safe! Triple by Furillo, Snider scores, and the Dodgers are finally on the board!” Adel made a few notes on her scorecard, and Nate was pleased to see Adel smile, something that she rarely did, even though the Dodgers had been winning most of their games.
And … If anyone is so moved — for better or worse — I’d love to see some reviews on Amazon.
brucejberger 