On a Walkabout

Regrettably, the time has once again come around where I need to take a break from posting on this page to sort out some of my other affairs. I hope to be back sooner than later with many more stories to tell but for now, I hope my back catalog is enough to keep you entertained.

The Conspiracy Theorists' Ball - Part Two

The poll has closed and here is the selected choice in my "Choose Your Own Adventure" story. Thank you for reading and thank you for voting!

The Conspiracy Theorists’ Ball – Part II (Choice A)

By Brandon Palzkill

            “No good can come of walking into that deathtrap,” Adam thought to himself as he left his office later that evening.

            He had deliberated on his choices over the course of four hours two glasses of whiskey and he had finally arrived at what he considered to be the sensible decision. He was by no means a coward, but the idea of a nighttime rendezvous with some mystery caller on the seedy side of town had filled him with an unease that he couldn’t shake; who knew what awaited him if he brashly hopped in his car and drove off into the darkness? Adam much preferred his other option; he knew the neighborhood and the client so he didn’t expect any surprises.

However, his afternoon had not gone entirely surprise-free. He had just barely inserted his car key into the lock when he realized that his car seemed noticeably off. It took little of his keen intelligence to realize that he had a flat tire, where after he cursed his so-called intelligence for failing to replace his long-since missing spare. He kicked the defeated and deflated wheel and cursed under his breath, before he relocked his car doors and spent the next five minutes trying to hail a taxi.

Twenty five minutes later, the fading crimson sun steadily sank below the ever-darkening horizon as the cab rolled to a halt in the driveway of a palatial three story manor. Adam counted about fifteen rooms that he could see from the front of the house and the three car garage looked big enough to enclose his office five times over. The increasingly shadowy grounds appeared lush and meticulously tended to and he was sure that he would have been dazzled by vibrant greens, reds, blues, and violets under a full, midday sun. Adam had never been invited to a rich client’s home for a consultation before and, on the whole, he was impressed to see how the other half lived.

He rang the doorbell and peered through the door’s intricately etched frosted glass panes, on the lookout for signs of movement. The entrance hall seemed dark and still and devoid of any kind of activity as he stared intently through the glass. All too soon, however, the echo of approaching footsteps rang over the hardwood floor and a silhouetted figure had soon stood out in the darkness. The figure became vaguely clearer as he reached the obscuring glass of the door, but didn’t come into complete focus until Adam was standing face to face with him.

The man before him was indeed Sheldon Fincher, renowned legal eagle. He was a man of about fifty two, a head shorter than Adam, with faded ginger hair. A grim, troubled frown accented his lined face, making him almost look as though he had a toothache.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Barnes,” he said, solemnly extending his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Adam replied, shaking hands. “Your reputation certainly precedes you.”

Mr. Fincher stood aside and motioned him through the door.

“I regret that our meeting has less to do with my professional affairs as it does my personal matters,” Fincher lamented. “I’ve called you I have an issue of a truly personal nature that requires your talents.”

Adam was intrigued to hear more and eagerly allowed himself to be directed to Fincher’s study. Once there, Fincher offered him a seat in front of his desk before walking over to his bar and pouring two glasses of a nicer scotch than any that Adam had ever stocked on his own shelf. When Fincher finally sat down, he had a stern, businesslike demeanor.

“So…” Adam started, “what can I do for you, Mr. Fincher?”

“If I might be candid,” Fincher started, “I’ve contacted you because need your assistance in unearthing my wife’s possible indiscretions.”

If Adam had a nickel for every conversation he had had which started with that sentence, he would have a house bigger than Fincher’s.

“And why do you suspect your wife?”

“She’s been distant and terribly secretive as of late…”

“Okay,” Adam considered, “do you have anything else to make you believe she’s cheating?”

Adam sat through interviews with many a paranoid and insecure husband or wife who had deluded themselves into believing that their spouse was having an affair without so much as a peculiar makeup smudge to back it up. As such, Adam never accepted “I have a hunch” as a legitimate argument. Fincher looked quietly frustrated and paused before speaking, as though choosing his next words carefully.

“I have noticed things,” he finally spoke. “On two occasions that I know of, she had lied about visiting friends downtown. I have also heard her having hushed phone conversations late at night when she thought I was asleep… I’m neither delusional nor foolish, Mr. Barnes; I wouldn’t have called you without cause.”

“I apologize if I’ve insulted you, Mr. Fincher,” Adam interjected. “In my experience, people often hit the panic button before they’re sure. How can I assist you in this matter?”

“I had always suspected my wife of marrying me for my wealth, so she agreed to sign a rock-solid prenuptial agreement; if she is proved to be unfaithful, she gets nothing. Part of me was naïve enough to think that it might keep her from straying… perhaps, it would seem, I was wrong. But I need proof to be absolutely certain.”

 “Understandable,” Adam answered. “If there’s any proof to be found, I can definitely dig it up.”

“Of course,” Mr. Fincher added, “it would be more of a relief if you find that she hasn’t been unfaithful at all, but if she has, I’m comforted to have someone of your reputation on the…”

A sultry cooing echoed through the supposedly empty hallway beyond the office door and was followed by low, indistinct grumble. Adam motioned for silence then stealthily leaped from his seat and reached the light switch, cloaking the office in sudden blackness. He stood at the door, which had been left minutely ajar, and listened into the hallway.

“Of course he’s not here.”

“But he could come home at any moment.”

“Not a chance; he practically lives in his office. It’s just you and me, and we have hours.”

The chatter was broken by soft smacking sounds and accompanied by rustling as they appeared to be struggling across the hardwood floor. The sounds soon shifted upstairs, punctuated by the fading of a woman’s delighted giggling, and Adam looked at the enraged and shocked Fincher digging his fingernails into the desktop.

“Wait here,” Adam whispered.

He quietly inched the door open and slid through the gap. Fincher did as instructed and sat stiffly at his desk, listening to the silence and struggling with the desire to do something violent to his cheating harlot of a wife and her contemptible lover.

“HEY!!! WHAT ARE YOU…”

“WHAT THE…”

“GET OUT OF HERE!”

The sudden outburst upstairs had snapped Fincher back to his senses and he was confused as he listened to heavy footsteps strutting proudly and assuredly down the stairs and toward the office. The door was pushed open and the lights were thrown back on. There stood Adam Barnes, victoriously in the doorway, a camera clutched tightly in his hand.

“It’s a little X-rated, but I think I have your proof…”

THE END

We Are Legion

We Are Legion

By Brandon Palzkill

Out amongst my outcast brethren,

Dregs of society; underground awesomites

Men, women; large, small; awkward, beautiful…

Scurrying out from the shadowy corners

For the moment of our awaited gathering.

Everyone dons their battle armor,

Proudly raises their flags, high,

Displays their banners for the world to see,

And we are all united; several become one

As we make a collective sojourn

Into breathtaking realms of endless

Possibility...

The mighty, ready for an adventure.