Mike Hammer

MIKE HAMMER

　

　

　

　

Mike chose his footing carefully while trudging up the dingy four flights to his walkup overlooking ‘Hell’s Kitchen. A bullet in his left thigh and one to his rib cage, from a slinky blonde named Mona Marie, had left him bitter memories, despite her sexual perversions. Three weeks in a run down hospital didn’t improve his disposition. He should have known better but didn’t. The after glow of filling her body full of lead seemed to ease the pain some.

Inside his secretary waited with a copy of a police report, he begrudgingly scanned.

“What is this all about Dee Dee?”

“They‘re suspicious about your story of Mona Marie‘s connections to Big Jake and have an AP out on you.”

“Damn, so that‘s what the tail‘s all about.”

“Cool it Mike, you know you‘re clear.”

“Yeah, probably but Big Jake has connections, police commissioner connections.”

“Your hear that stomping up the stairs Dee?”

“Yep, fuzz is a comin’.”

Four hours later, Mike left the precinct office, free on his own recognizance. Big Jake ran drugs, girls, numbers and protection in Hell’s Kitchen since the early thirties. The depression only made him stronger, Payoff, booze and broads kept the police away, including Mel Harrison, the commissioner.

‘I’ll have to bring him down myself’, Mike thought, ‘but how?’

Jake ran his operation out of The Easy Sixes, a club located in an old wharf on the Hudson River. Safe and off limits to the police, the club emulated everything grotesque Hell’s Kitchen had to offer. One difference only, customers knew they were okay and that meant a lot to New York’s elite. Mike had been there many times in the mid thirties, now the war was on, New York turned it’s attention to more pressing matters.

Mike finally realized his plan was flawed and called his best friend,

Effie answered Sam’s phone,

“He’s not in Mike, he still mooning over Miss Ruth and took some time off, but I will tell him you called“

‘It‘s no wonder,’ Mike thought. ‘Sam took down the “Fat Man and Ruth Wonderly with him. God what a piece of double dealing, wanton woman.”.

Two days went by, with Mike healing fast, almost to normal. Sam called and they arranged a meeting.

“You old buzzard,” Mike said, “you finally over your tryst?”

“You’re a fine one to talk Mike, at least I didn’t let her plug me twice.”

“Ouch, it still hurts.”

“Your ass or your pride?”

“A little of both, maybe. Enough of this, are you interested in taking Big Jake down?”

“You and what army?”

“I am serious Sam.“

“You have a death wish Mike or just insane?”

Neither, but I do have a plan.”

To Be Continued

　

THE RESURRECTION OF DR. MONTGOMERY AND THE CLONES

　

　

[ SYNOPSIS ]

[Three years had passed since Brad Pennington and his sister Jennifer had battled

the insane Dr. Montgomery and twelve of his clones in Mt. Moriah Cemetery. Brad’s

Irish ancestors had risen from the dead in full battle dress to even the odds. The time span

had done little to heal Brad or his sister’s memories.]

One of those early spring weekends descended upon the City Of Brotherly Love

and Brad and his sister Jennifer, packed a picnic lunch and headed downtown to the

historical district. The stress of battling Dr. Montgomery in four separate encounters, still

showed in both their faces but they were survivors cut from the cloth of liberty. No one

but Brad realized how important his sister had been when she stepped back into his life.

Of course, losing his wife to the mad genius, forever changed him but Jen had

gathered the remnants of his mind and healed him, not as a replacement but more like a

close companion, reminiscent of their early childhood. It was her awareness that sunny

spring day that allowed him an instant before six more clones, three exactly like Brad, the

other three like Jennifer, staged an attack once again in full sight of families strolling

Independence Park.

Brad had adopted modern warfare and pulled his Glock 37 pistol and aimed at

his exact image and squeezed the trigger. Before he could fire again, he was knocked

unconscious. When he awoke, the police, fire department ambulance and curious, always

the curious surrounded him.

“Where is Jen?”

“She’s been abducted,” a spectator said. “Two men and three girls spirited her

off in a BMW a few minutes ago. The other guy’s chest was blown apart.”

“Did you get the plate number?” A policeman asked.

“Sorry, it happened so fast, I didn’t think about it.”

Lieutenant Joseph Calloway of the Philadelphia police arrived

“Dr, Pennington, we meet again. How is it you’re still alive?”

“Beats me, Montgomery’s kidnapped Jennifer again. He obviously wants

something from me.”

“Like secret formulas?”

“No comment, did they leave any notes?”

“Notes? Not that a know of. Did you implant a tracking device in your sister?“

“Yes, are you getting a reading?”

“We are but what if they discover it?”

“Not likely, it was surgically implanted.”

“Well, it’s tracking toward the Pocono’s.”

“So finally, we’ll find the rat nest and eliminate the snakes.”

“What about your sister?”

“Commando raid.”

“Are you serious? The FBI’s not qualified.

“We won’t use the FBI.”

“Well who then?”

“Navy Seals.”

You have that influence, Dr. Pennington?”

“I do, Montgomery’s working on some sort of mind, projection control for Isis.”

“Do you need our help doctor?”

“We can always use your help Lieutenant. Now here’s my plan……………”

　

I guess you thought all cats were sweet. T

UUMPH!, UUMPH

I sat at La Floridita bar in Havana. Ava Gardner perched on a bar stool to my

left and my best friend in the world, Earnest Hemingway on my right. We had been

drinking sugar free rum daiquiris and telling tall tales for hours when Ava slipped her

hand to my thigh and leaned over to kiss me. Her eyes were luminous pools of desire

and her rose lips quivered slightly as her face drew closer. I closed my eyes and………

Meow! Meo…………w!

She started to lick my face, not Ava but my eighteen pound calico, Miss Kitty.

I closed my eyes and saw Ava fade away from my dream.

“Damn it Miss Kitty, you know better.”

She snuggled closer. Meow! Meow!

“What do you want, cat?”

“You of all people know, my breakfast.”

I bolted out of bed and searched my room for the voice.

“What are you looking for Dean.”

I froze in stride. The calico had just talked to me. When I tried to speak to her,

“ Uumph uumph” Lord, I couldn’t utter a word.

I stumbled to my kitchen, opened a can of Friskies for Miss Kitty, threw my

clothes on and bolted out the door. I practiced speaking in my car as I traveled through

traffic, nothing but ‘uumph, uumph.’

The First National Bank Of Miami’s sign greeted me as I entered the foyer, took

the elevator to the ninth floor. ’uumph, uumph,’ nothing. Doris Dinglefoot my blonde

receptionist with a 1950’s bullet bra chest, greeted me with a smile.

“Good morning Mr. Davenport.”

“uumph, uumph,” I answered.

“Do you have a bad cold sir?”

“Uumph!” .

I disappeared into my office after shaking no at Doris. Twelve messages sat to be

returned. Damn cat placed a spell on me. “Uumph-waaa” Well, at least that was a

different sound. The rest of my morning floated in the toilet. Two vice presidents strolled

in for a quick meeting and exited just as fast to “Waaa Uumph Waaa.”

I practiced my best drunk stagger, walked up to Miss Dinglefoot leaning at fifteen

degrees, put my hands on her shoulders and started to play walkie down her chest. .

“For Pete sakes Mr. Davenport, not now.”

“Uumph, Waaa, Wass, Umphawaaa.”

I was back in the elevator and to my car like a rocket, only not fast enough, for

Doris ran behind the bumper, screaming,

“At least let me drive you home sir.”

I stuck my head out the window,

“Uumphuumphwaaauumph” and I pushed the petal to the metal and drove down

the Dixie highway toward home. I pulled in my driveway after receiving a three hundred

dollar ticket for driving while being mentally retarded. I roared through my garage

barely stopping before plowing though the back wall, and burst through the door.

　

　

　

　

Miss Kitty sat on the carpet looking like a fur lined bowling pin slightly portly in

a pissed off attitude,

“Are you ready to deal Dean?”

She gave me the creeps talking to me.

“Uumph wass cump ha!” I answered.

:”Here’s the deal,” she purred. “I want my breakfast. promptly at five in the

morning. Lunch at noon and dinner at five. Don’t forget my snacks, okay?”

“Uumph”

.. . Clean my litter box twice a day.”

“Uumph.”

Lastly, spend as much time with me as you do with Miss Dinglefoot. Deal?

Uumph ………….Yes!”

“Meow Meo………w.”

“I know, lunch time, give me a minute

This one's r

DOUBLE TROUBLE

　

“Anyone fool enough to marry identical twins one after the other, needs a keeper.”

The warning from Brian’s father rang though his thoughts as he stood at the alter.

He looked toward Alicia and saw her sweet innocence. ‘This time, I’ll get it right.’ Only

the twins mother and he could tell them apart. Their father gave up after their teen age

years, when they became exactly like clones. But Brian was absolutely convinced he

wasn’t marrying Alexandria all over again.

Alexandria had a mole high on the inside of her left thigh shaped like a crescent

moon. Alicia amazingly had a tiny beauty spot located exactly in the same area. However

the crescent was turned backwards. He paused suddenly, ‘God forbid, they wouldn‘t dare,

or would they?’ His body started to convulse ever so slightly but no one took notice

except Brian’s best man.

“You have the shakes man?”

Brian waved him to silence. The ceremony continued as Brian felt beads of sweat

roll down between his shoulder blades. Finally the scary part started,

“…. or forever hold your peace.”

Two agonizing seconds went by. ‘Slam, Slam’ echoed through the small church as

the rear doors were thrown back.

“I object” rang out.

Both bride and groom stared at the rear of the church, where Alexandria stood

there stomping her foot,

“I’ve been kidnapped,” she yelled. “Further more it was my sister and two ruffians

who grabbed me, tied me up and locked me in a closet..”

“You’re out of your mind sis, you are Alexandria. Your sorry that you lost him.

Don’t make an idiot of yourself.”

“Mom,” Alexandria screamed, “you tell her I’m Alicia., for God sakes.”

The wedding party fell in a stupor of shock listening to this and the preacher’s

comments didn’t help,

“I’m not going to be a party to a circus,” he said, left the pulpit and walked out of

the church.

Brian took the mike and addressed the rather amused wedding crowd,

“I’m sorry for the interruption, there’s no need explaining the problem, but if you’ll

be patient with us, it shouldn’t take long to work out.”

With the wedding party disappearing through the side door, the wedding crowd

broke out in chitter, chatter to amuse themselves while Brian’s best man set out to capture

the preacher. Forty five minutes later, the music started and Alicia marched down the aisle

with a radiant smile.

Brian leaned to the minister’s ear,

“Skip the part about ‘forever hold your peace.”

The preacher nodded, the wedding went on without a hitch as did the reception at

a nearby hotel. Later on as the two lovers entwined each other, Brian froze as a moment

of doubt arose,

“I know I’m a worry wart, but would you mind if I look at your beauty mark for a

moment?”

A slight pause in love making, a quick look and Brian bolted out of bed. “Damn it

Alexandria, I married you twice. Why?”



“Well, we talked about it before the wedding and Alicia told her thoughts to me.”

“Her ideas? I thought she loved me.”

“She does and so do I, You know I‘ve missed you. We decided to share you

between us only we wont tell which one because we‘re having the beauty spots removed

surgically. It’ll be more amusing to you when you wonder who you’re sleeping with. As

you furious with us?”

Brian thought for a moment and an devilish looking grin filled his face,

“I kind of like the idea,” he said. “Let’s see which one of you can please me the

most“

The exhausted couple spread across the bed. Alexandria slept soundly, Brian

grinned,

‘I know the key to tell them apart but don‘t think you as the reader is going to find

out.’



.
eally off the hook, guys. Enjoy!

ALLIGATOR BOY

THE LRGEND OF CHIEF BILLY THUNDERCLOUD

　

　

At the end of the second Seminole war of 1842, no peace treaty was signed. The

Seminole Indians existed for a hundred years, hidden in the everglades. By the 1950’s

some migrated to dryer lands in South Florida. Stories of Billy Thundercloud spread

through Florida. The Seminoles called him, ‘Ma-omof Fusua’ or Alligator Boy.

His family lived in the swamps when he was born. He went missing one day and

his mother panicked and ran to a deep water area in the Everglades. She found her son

sitting with three massive alligators, whispering to them. He was four at the time. His

legend grew as he got older and would gather his afternoon audience beside the deep

area.

Other Seminoles hesitated to join him when as many as a dozen alligators would

surround him in rapt interest, never touching him unless he said ‘Mofaus Kei’ which

means playtime. They would wrestle with him, their jaws closing in thunderous claps,

always missing him an inch or two. The tribe anointed him as Chief Billy Thundercloud.

As he grew in stature he never forget his fierce playmates and yearned for their

company. On weekends he would join them and once, he invited his natural history

professor from the University Of Miami, along for company.

She was half Seminole with half Irish thrown in, a beauty for the ages. Wearing a

sheer blouse, top buttons loose with a little jiggle as she walked, she oozed innocently.

Tight blue jeans walked down a tight derriere , they seemed to be spray painted on.

When they sat by the bank, Billy was so proud of her

She expressed little fear as she sat with him surrounded by massive jaws and eyes

that spoke evil. But she knew as long as Billy was with her, she was safe. She leaned over

to him,

“How about an A for this assignment. Are you old enough for me to kiss you?“

“If you won’t tell, my lips are sealed.” They shared a gentle kiss and held hands

within the circle of predators. Denise took many photos that day and showed then in her

lecture room. Somehow, several snap shots ended up at the Miami Herald.

A media frenzy started to build with Denise Ocala in the forefront. She asked

Billy for a favor,

“Anything you want,” he replied.

“Can we take the press so they can witness why they call you Ma-omof Fusua?

The publicity will fund the university’s research department on the danger of

development threatening the Everglades.”

“It may upset them to see so many. Will the reporters keep their distance?”

“Of course, I will be sure they follow your wishes.”

Billy sensed a feeling of foreboding the next Saturday when six reporters

followed Denise and Billy far into the glades to the deep part. As agreed, the reporters

stayed back fifty yards as the gators started their ritual with the whisperer. One of the

reporters broke ranks and crept forward for a better photo. An alligator noticed and

edged toward him.

The reporter panicked, drew a pistol and shot at the gator. All hell broke, a large

alligator clamped down on Denise’s leg and dragged her toward the water. Billy jumped

on his back, drew his knife and started to stab the gator but was violently thrown off. As

he rose to his feet, the alligator submerged into the depths with Denise still struggling and

then all was still. The other beasts slid into the water, circled as if waiting for something.

Billy walked up to the reporter who had fired the pistol, knocked him

unconscious, lifted him above his head and walked to the deep place. With a great heave

the reporter hit the water amidst the circling gators. Thrashing sounds drowned his

screams as the gators consumed him.

Billy, his head hung low in grief, walked slowly toward the deep and waded in the

murky, blood stained swamp water. In his native language, he began to chant ,

“Aweka nomateg wabte, aweka nomateg wabte.”

His like long friends consumed his body as commanded.

So a legend built around the alligator boy. When a half moon lights the glades,

some say he can be seen by the deep place encircled by his aquatic friends. Who knows

the mysteries of the Everglades? No one

Long may ‘Ma-omuf Fusua’ tarry. .

Don't let this photo frighten you. It's a photo of my grandfather. Wait, that's not correct. I'm not quite as old as the oak tree, I'm propped up against. When you reach my age, life becomes a comedy of present, flash backs and hopes for the next event.Yeah, even those with years, look to the future. Five great grandchildren and fourteen grandchildren cause it.

I hope to post some new and some old stories here. It's for you to decide which is life, fiction or fantasy. If I write about Maureen O'Hara Ann Margaret or Veronica Lake, you can be sure it's fantasy. Some of the other tales won't be that easy for my alter ego crowds me out of the written page on occasion. Speaking about Ann, I did write a story about her. I'll post it at the bottom of this note, Enjoy.

A DALLAS-ROMAN HOLIDAY

　

　

　

　

Matthew McAlister opened the door of his record distributing company to

Melody’s whistle,

“You’re looking smart boss, where are you headed today?”

“On a blind date to a cocktail party and dinner with a gorgeous red head.”

“Lucky you, who is she?”

“Top secret,” he said and entered his private office. His desk calendar read

February 14^th 1964. Tom Johnson, sales manager of RCA Records, Dallas branch, had

invited him. ’Along with forty others,’ he thought, ‘Not much one on one.’

Ten thirty, Matthew’s private line rang,

“Matt, I‘m on the way to Baylor hospital, Dee‘s water broke, can you pick Ann up

at noon?

Of course, Tom.” He could hardly contain himself. ‘There is a God in heaven.’

“Gate 17 at Love Field. She‘s on a private jet from LA. The limo will pick you in

thirty minutes. Take her to the Adolphus.”

“Don‘t worry Tom, she‘s in good hands.”

“Thank you, you‘re a God send.”.

As the limo approached gate 17, a Lear made a perfect landing and taxied

toward the area. ’I hope my heart can’t be heard over this noise,’ Matthew mused as he

stood waiting. She walked toward him in raving beauty,

“Mr. Johnson?”

“Welcome to Dallas. I’m Matthew McAlister. Tom’s at the hospital, his wife’s in

labor, will I do?”

A radiant smile crossed Ann’s face, “You certainly will.”

The limo approached the entrance to McAlister freeway.

“Any relation?” Ann asked.

“My great grandfather donated the land. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Edward, detour to White Rock Lake.”

“You taking me on a picnic?”

“ Sort of, Gran has a house there with a small gazebo. Will that do?”.

“Sounds lovely, Matthew.”

The limo pulled through the circular drive and stopped in front of a massive

Victorian nestled on five acres lakeside. Matthew took her arm and walked up the stone

path, and opened the door,

“Gran, I have a visitor.”

An elegant lady, mid seventies, descended the staircase,

“What a pleasant surprise, Matt,”

“Gran, this is Ann….”

“I recognize her, welcome my dear. You are exquisite.”

“Thank you, your home is marvelous.”

“I was born in this house, Ann. Why don’t the two of you sit in the gazebo,

Arthur will fix lunch for you.”

“The view is lovely, the food amazing,” Ann said.

“Can you stay awhile?”

“I would never leave if I didn’t have to.”

I imagine Hollywood is in a different world. How’d the filming go?”

“He was very sweet and attentive. It was kind of magical working with him.”

“I’m jealous,”

“You shouldn’t be, you’re better looking.” She leaned over and kissed him gently.

The couple chatted like old friends and watched the February sun on it’s descent

toward the lake.

“I must be going, are you coming tonight?“

“I was but I can’t now after today.”

She kissed him again.

“I understand, two different worlds.”

“If only……”

“Don’t Matthew, I’ve had a wonderful time with you, please don’t spoil it.”

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly for a moment. “Okay.”

As the sun turned a golden amber in the cloudless sky, the limo sped toward the

Adolphus.

…………

The next morning, Matthew was greeted at his office. Melody spread the front

page of the Dallas Morning News. Headlines marched across the page,

‘ANN MARGARET TAKES A ROMAN HOLIDAY IN DALLAS,

DISAPPEARS FOR SIX HOURS!’

“You didn’t, did you boss?“

Matthew grinned, “What do you think?”

Wuthering Heights

WUTHERING HEIGHTS

　

　

　

“Wuthering Heights”

“So that’s what the fuss is all about, an old book and how much did you pay for it,

Jeremy?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve what?”

“Twelve thousand, Elizabeth.”

“You better be joshing me, an old ragged book.”

“Not an old book, a first edition, dating to 1847.”

“So what, it’s still an old book.”

“Where is your brain dumb ass? Look at the signature on the cover page.”

“’Emily Bronte‘,” so what, who is she?.”

“Damn Elizabeth, you have the mind of a wart hog.”

“I thought you said that’s why you married me.”

“I lied, it was your old man’s twelve gage.”

“I can’t believe I let you in my pants, your pecker’s the size of my thumb.”

“Ask Marilyn across the street, she doesn’t think so.”

“You are disgusting you know. How do you like the salad I made you?”

“Not bad, it’s kind of crunchy though.”

“It should be, it’s full of glass shreds.”

‘Thank you for waiting ’till I was finished with it. How’s your ice tea?”



“I was going to ask you about that. Why is it so cloudy?

“Arsenic usually makes tea cloud up. If you had a brain, you’d eat it.”

“Did you really poison me, Jeremy?”

“Do you think I’d really do that to you? What about the glass in the salad? I’m

surprised Elizabeth“

“ It’s only baked coconut shreds. “Why, you said you hated me.”

“ That after you melted my bowling ball in the oven. How would you feel?”

“About the same when you Mohawk’ed me while I was sleeping.”

“Is that lust I see in your eyes Elizabeth? Would you like me slap your face?”

“Oh would you please?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, would you like to look for my house keys, right pocket.”

“It’s not the keys I feel it’s Willie Winkle, he all upset.”

‘Oh is he now? Lock the front door Elizabeth. I wanna ’you know’”

“Come a little closer a minute.”

“Damn it Elizabeth, did you have to hit me so hard? You knocked a tooth loose.”

“What about Marilyn across the street?”

“Forget about her, she‘d rather have you then me.“ .

. “ I already knew that. Now take me, even if you’re not Lawrence Oliver.”

“Who’s talking, what makes you think you’re Merle Oberon?”

“To me you’ll always be Heathcliff. Now hit the sheets big boy”

“I’m ready Merle. Please be gentle.”

“Don’t count on it.”