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Winter Dreams (the Continuing Adventures of Rick Miller)
A Sequel to Summer Dreams
Rick Miller was sitting alone in a booth at The Red Top Restaurant. The year was 1969 and it was a cold, windy December morning in the Canadian prairies. He had just arrived as his geography class at Maplewood Collegiate ended. It only took him a few minutes to walk across the street from the high school to the restaurant. He lit up a Rothmans cigarette and began to daydream about Sasha, his former summer love. He had to admit that he missed her now that all was said and done, but he was beginning a new chapter of his life. Shirley, the waitress approached his booth.
“What will it be today Rick, the usual?”
“Yep, my favorite. Hot chocolate,” Rick answered with a smile.
Rick figured that Shirley was in her mid-forties. She had gained a bit of weight over the years, but was still relatively attractive for someone her age. Rick noticed that Shirley had a short pinky finger on her right hand. The finger must have been amputated, but Rick didn’t allow his curiosity over-ride his impeccable good manners. He had never asked Shirley about what happened to her finger.
Rick’s high school was just across the street from The Red Top. Just as Shirley brought Rick his hot chocolate someone walked in the door of the restaurant. The new customer was a very thin young man roughly Rick’s age. He had long, dirty, unkempt strawberry blond hair. He stopped in front of Rick’s booth and asked if he could join him. Rick was a little surprised as had never seen this fellow before, but he motioned for him to sit down.
“Thanks for letting me join you, man. My name is Peyton Ramparts. I have a spare this period and felt like I needed a cup of java. I was up until two in the morning last night. My band had a really bitchin’ good practise.”
Peyton wore a long black coat with gold striping on the side. It looked like he could have stolen it from Jimi Hendrix.
“What’s your band’s name?” Rick asked.
“Winter Dreams,” Peyton answered. “Hey man can I bum a smoke off you?”
“Yeah, no problem. I hope you like Rothmans. I smoke whatever brand my dad is smoking at the time.”
Peyton started to laugh as he pulled out a cigarette from Rick’s pack.
“How did you come up with the name Winter Dreams for your band?”
“I can’t remember for sure. A guy from my band came up with it during a break from practise. We were all passing around a joint at the time while looking out the living room window. All I remember is watching a heavy snowfall. Then Pick said, “This is sort of like a winter dream and Chevy said that it sounded like a great name for our band.”
Rick was just about ready to ask Peyton another question when both boys felt a sudden rush of cold air breeze through the restaurant. They both looked towards the door and saw a young attractive female come through the door.
“Sorry I’m late, Peyton. I had to ask Mr. Pierce for an extension on my research paper for history class. Who’s your friend?” the girl asked.
“I don’t know his name yet. We just met a few minutes ago. Peyton reached across the table to shake Rick’s hand. “Sorry I should have introduced myself first. I’m Peyton Ramparts.”
“And I’m Rick Miller.”
“Let me introduce you to my girlfriend, Sabrina Davis,” Peyton said as Sabrina slid right next to him on the booth.
“I think I’ve seen you at school Rick. You’re in grade twelve aren’t you? I hear people talking about you in the halls all the time. You’re the Cougars star goalie,” Sabrina said brushing some snow off her navy-blue coat.
“I don’t know if I’m a star, but I try to play my best for the team,” Rick responded with true humility.
Peyton was already starting to feel comfortable with Rick. He felt that he could trust Rick and be real with him. Rick was sensing the same thing about Peyton. They both had the feeling that they could be honest with one another.
“So how did your meeting with Mr. Pierce go? Is he going to give you an extension on your homework assignment?”
“Yeah, no problem. I told him about my grandmother moving into our house and that she needed me to do things for her. I told Mr. Pierce that my extra duties were causing me to get behind in my studies.”
“What did he say about that?” Rick asked as he put his cup of hot chocolate back on the table. He was starting to feel right at home with Peyton and Sabrina.
“Oh, he said that he understood and would give me an extra week to work on my paper. He said that there was a time in his life when his mother was very ill and he needed to help her out a lot. Of course, it also helps that I’m very cute. All the girls in my class have noticed the way that Mr. Pierce looks at us. He definitely has a thing going for young high school chicks,” Sabrina answered with a chuckle.
“You sure know how to play him,” Peyton said with a bit of admiration. He always felt that Sabrina was smarter than him. She certainly got much better grades in school than he did. Peyton had very little interest in school. He attended the minimum of his required courses basically to keep his parents off his case and to be with Sabrina.
“Rick, do you know that Peyton is in a band. He plays lead guitar as well as writing some original material for the band. His group is called Winter Dreams and one day they are going to make it big. Record a single and an album. The whole nine yards,” Sabrina said proudly.
“We’re not as great as Sabrina says, but we’re not bad for a group that’s only been together for six months. We’re playing a gig tonight at Maplewood Community Center. Why don’t you drop by and check us out, Rick?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s been a blast meeting you guys, but I have to get back to the school for my American history class.” Rick said as he put on his white down filled parka and got ready for a biting rush of cold winter air.
Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: God’s Promises For Healing https://anchor.fm/ken-david-stewart5/episodes/Gods-Promises-For-Healing-e18d8pa
When Harold and Whisper arrived back at their house, they both felt a little tired. They both agreed to watch an episode of Law and Order before retiring for the night. The episode that they watched included a storyline about an inebriated driver would had seriously injured a young man.
Harold was somewhat rattled in that this episode of Law and Order struck too close to home. Shortly after the television program was over, Harold informed Whisper that he was going to turn in for the night.
When Harold climbed into his king-size bed he found that he was having a difficult time falling asleep. He thought that this was unusual as he had consumed a hefty amount of Canadian bacon pizza at Pizza Hut when he was out with Whisper. Indulging in such a large meal usually caused Harold to feel sleepy, but this was not the case tonight. Harold knew that it had something to do with the television show that he had watched with Whisper.
Harold was still grieving heavily over the death of his daughter Erica. Harold’s daughter was his treasure and he was bewildered how God could take such a beautiful girl away from him. Harold knew that he could not blame God for his loss, but still, the pain he carried was sometimes seemed far more than a mortal man could possibly bare.
He realized that he would need to create a distraction to stop thinking about Erica.
Harold had one of his most prized possessions near his nightstand. He had loaded up his white Samsung tablet to the max with his favorite musical albums and audiobooks.As Harold searched through his massive Kindle e-books collection he finally settled upon The Time Machine audiobook by HG Wells. This book brought back memories of going to the Plaza Theatre with his little buddies on Friday nights. In those days one coud watch three movies for twenty cents. One of those films was the nineteen sixty film adaptationof the Time Machine.
As Harold listened to the first chapter of this classic novel he fell asleep fo an unknown period of time until he was startled out of his sleep. He quickly sat up straight in his bed and felt a chilly shot pass through his bones. Harold’s navy blue pajamas were drenched in persperation when saw a clear image of his deceased daughter, Erica, standing in front of his bed.
Episode 51 of Street Dreams by Ken David Stewart
Tony, Whisper and Pixie made a very quick exit from the dilapidated party house on Beliveau Road. Pixie took a hard slide on a very slippery patch of the sidewalk that was covered in recently fallen snow. As Pixie was starting to fall, Whisper saw what was happening and quickly grabbed Pixie’s arm in an attempt to steady her. Pixie thanked Whisper for breaking her fall and saving her from a serious injury.
When all three had boarded Tony’s truck, Whisper wasted no time in confronting Tony,
“Way to go, Tony. You just got me involved in one of your famous screw ups. Do you get off on beating people up? Is that what gives you a rush of adrenaline?|”
For a few seconds, Tony did not take the bait. Fortunately, it wasn’t too cold outside so his white Ford 150 engine started easily. This was a lucky break because the police would be arriving any minute now and Tony did not want a cold engine to slow him down. Tony put the pedal to the metal.
Whisper asked, “Where are we going, Tony?”
“I figure we should hide out for a few days. I’m sure that there are people at the party who could identify us. Tony turned towards Pixie, “Have you got anything pressing that you need to take care of in the next few days?
Pixie shivered from the cold air in the truck. Tony noticed that she looked quite chilled.
“Don’t worry Pixie. My truck heats up pretty fast.”
“Thanks,Tony, and to answer your question, I have nothing planned for the next week or so,” as she started to giggle.
“Why are you asking her that question, Tony?” Whisper asked as a warm blast of heat shot out from the air vents on the dash of Tony’s Ford truck.
“I don’t know if I killed that dude at the party.I’m sure that my fingerprints are all over that wall and the cops have my prints down at the cop shop already.”
“Great! How far and where are we going to stay?” Whisper asked as it was obvious from her facial expression that she was growing increasingly agitated.
“I got a cousin who lives in a mobile home just outside Gimli. Over the years I’ve done him a few juicy favours so now I figure he owes me a solid. Let me borrow your cell phone Whisper and I’ll give you give him a call right now.”
“Pixie, I have a day timer in my glove compartment. Can you find it for me? It’s red and I have my cousin’s phone number written in it.”
Episode Nine of Alligators in the Sewers by Ken David Stewart
All the reptilian monster could see while making eye contact with the dog was prey, a small animal that would make a nice light snack. The beast lunged at the dog at a faster speed than most humans would have guessed possible. Whether by accident or with malicious intent, the alligator used its front legs to sweep two cars out of its path. The two vehicles rolled over a couple of times before crashing through two retail stores.
By that time most people on Main Street had abandoned their cars and were running as far from the beast that their physical condition would allow them. In the mad rush to safety, two elderly people died after being trampled by the crowd.
The albino alligator gobbled up the lady’s German Shepherd in under three seconds. The pedestrians on the sidewalk were too stunned to move and witnessed the hoary beast close its massive jaws around the dog. The dog’s blood was soon flowing in little streams down both sides of the reptile’s mouth.
Two police constables occupying a black and white Ford Victoria were both trying to calm their nerves after descalating a domestic abuse incident. In the backseat of the cop car was a beefy, red-faced man, in his early twenties. He was wearing a white T-shirt that was now stained with mustard, relish and ketchup up. By now the young man had mostly settled down. The man’s girlfriend told the police that her boyfriend, known on the street as Pigpen, had forgotten to take his morning dose of psychiatric medications. His girlfriend, a tiny teenage female named Gail, told the constables that whenever Pigpen missed a dose or two of his meds he was in danger of having a major meltdown.
After the police officers had physically restrainined the young man,, they asked him to take his prescribed meds immediately. Pigpen complied with the officers instructions and was told to have a seat on the garage sale couch in the living room. The two constables, Justin and Dave, sat opposite Pigpen on a red sofa.
I feel like writing a poem this afternoon.
I finished my first practice of the day on my bass guitar.
I had to quit early because my fingertips hurt too much.
I’m not a wimp.
Its just because I haven’t picked up my Epiphone Thunderbird bass in a long time.
I think Nikki Six has one like mine only more expensive.
I was probably too depressed to practice my bass before.
I like playing my bass because it makes a lot of noise
And rattles the windows.
Yesterday, I felt too crappy to do much of anything.
Today I feel better.
Maybe it was the extra pill I took.
I planned to write another episode of Alligators in the Sewers
but decided it might hurt my brain too much.
I’m glad to see that some people are actually reading the rough drafts of my new novel.
More people should read Alligators in the Sewers because there’s not too much more else to do. And besides,
I feel jolly when people read my stuff.
Episode Eight The Chaos Begins
A 16-year-old male named Jonathan Riley had just left the store known as Dells Electronics where he had just purchased a large 10.1 inch white Samsung tablet. He was just opening the bag when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his Oakland Raiders jacket. The pull cam from his 17-year-old friend, Harley Mason. Jonathan was short in height and had a slim build. His friend Harley liked to do two things in life, eat as much food as his stomach could hold and to work out with weights a minimum of one hour per day.
The results were not surprising. Harley’s height was 6’4″ and he weighed 282 pounds. He sported a sizable paunch, but this was overshadowed by his enormous biceps that measured in at 22 inches. Jonathan first started hanging out with Harley to prevent getting bullied by the other kids at school.
“What’s the matter, Harley?” Jonathan asked as he was distracted by the electronic treasure in his bag.
|”Get your eyes off that freaking tablet and look at what’s happening on the street. I think I heard gunshots,” Harley answered.
“Holy crap!” said a badly frightened Jonathan. Am I hallucinating or is that some kind of living prehistoric dinosaur?”
“No, you’re not imagining anything. It’s real. Get your phone out and call Emergency Services.”
“Jonathan did as he was instructed and was soon talking to a police constable dispatcher.
“Emergency Services. How can I help you?”
“Some kind of prehistoric alligator is right in the middle of Main Street, not far from the Eirst National Bank,” Jonathan replied.
“Normally, I’d laugh at you and hang up, but three people before you called to report the same thing. I’ve dispatched police officers from all over that area and some others from close by districts. My advice to you is to get the hell away from that thing as fast as you can,” said Bob Prichard, the dispatcher. He had just returned from lunch after chowing down on a very greasy, supersized chili burger and now his tummy didn’t feel so good.
The alligator used all of its substantial strength to push the car occupied by the two middle-aged drivers upside down.
The two men in the Honda Civic were now completely turned over and were feeling the pressure of the car on top of them. One of them yelled out of an open space in a cracked driver side window, “Help! We need some help. The weight of our car is crushing us,” said one of the men as he vomited on his fancy, white dress shoes.
An elderly lady on the sidewalk had her German Shepherd on a leash.Her large dog was well trained, but could not sit still any longer. Surrounded by the chaos, the animal was beginning to lose control. He could see that the alligator was staring at him through its milky coloured eyes.
At certain times, during the last two weeks, I have been listening to Dave Mustaine’s autobiography on an audiobook platform. I usually don’t enjoy reading rockstar biographies or autobiographies as they are usually drunkalogs or drugalogs. Although the book Mustaine does not avoid these topics, it doesn’t dwell on. I admire Dave Mustaine for taking the responsibility for his own actions and I appreciate his honesty and his willingness to be real. The narrator of the book, Tom Weyland is excellent.Dave’s stories from childhood are very chilling even for a heavy metal rockstar. I also enjoyed hearing about Dave Mustaine’s time with Metallica told from Mustaine’s point of view. There is much more I can say about this book/audiobook, but I don’t want to throw in any spoilers. I definitely recommend this autobiography to any fan of Megadeth or heavy metal music.