Aaron Christopher
Fiction Writing
Short Story

     It couldn't have been a nicer day.  The sun was bright and full as it hung above the heads of this rather bland and boring city.  A strong wind carried various articles of trash safely across this empty street.  It was a very peaceful day.  Of course the thought was crossing his mind about what could make this day any better.  He knew what could make this day worse for a lot of people.  He knew all to well. And that moment was coming.  Coming very soon.  
     He sipped his coffee down a bit and set the cup on the table.  Peering out of the window again, he made a private bet on which would make it across the street first, the candy wrapper or the shard of newspaper.  The mother and child eating nosily behind him was beginning to get on his nerves.  The child kept making a buzzing sound with her lips, spraying syrup and pancake bits all over the table.  The mother had laughed initially at this action, so of course the child assumed she was a laugh riot and began to practice the art of repetition.  And the mothers scolding was failing to have any impact.  What if he just turned around and slapped the kid? That was a very tempting idea.   He'd let them get away with it though.  It seemed rather trivial to him at the moment.  There were much bigger fish to fry.  
     He finished his coffee with a power gulp and tipped the waitress generously.  He liked the waitress.  He had often dreamed of having a wife that looked very similar to her.  She had a nice figure.  Not too exciting, but she wasn't the Goodyear blimp either.  A little on the plain side, but that smile is what got him.  She just seemed to light up the diner every time she showed off that group of white neon lights in her mouth.  This woman would take care of him for the
rest of his life if they got married.  He knew he wouldn't even think about beating her.  Dad had always beat his mom.  And from every strike he could feel her pain.  And it really hurt him when his Dan would pick him up and use him to beat his mother.  Yep, this girl would make a fine wife.  Of course that was all rather pointless to think about now.  It was time to get to work. Without a word to anyone he exited the diner.
     
     An ordinary day would have been nice.  However Clancy would have no such luck.  That morning he stepped out of the cardboard box he called home.  The smell of his own breath had managed to crawl up into his nose and awaken him again.  Although he really didn't mind.  He needed to get up.  It was Tuesday.  The roar of the mammoth trucks could already be heard in the distance.
     Clancy smacked his lips as he contemplated what might be in store for him at breakfast. Edging his way around the corner of his fairly untidy alleyway he spotted one of the massive trucks he hated with a passion.  It had a good lead on him this morning, but that wasn't too much of a problem for him.  Clancy sprinted toward the truck with every ounce of his strength.  Finally overtaking it, he continued past it looking for a good place to start.
     He spotted his first target on 23rd street.  It was a decent sized can right next to the local bar and grill.  The best cans are the ones without any rust on the bottom.  That let in too much moisture. This can was plastic so it made it all the more worth while.  This sucker could preserve food better than tupperware.  Clancy lofted himself into the air with a graceful jump. The feeling of weightlessness filled his body for a split second.  And then he landed with a
satisfying crunch in the dead center of the garbage can.
     Sifting through the filth, Clancy found some corn on the cob and some practically untouched baby back ribs.  This was an excellent start to his day.  Most of time he'd go without breakfast, it was definitely starting out as a good day.  Clancy pulled himself out of the can along with his cherished findings.  Without pausing he quickly devoured his meal.  This took all of two minutes. That was fifteen seconds under his old record time.  Now with breakfast finished it was time to look for lunch.  However Clancy was feeling rather exotic today; this influenced him to go down town.  Of course it is dangerous down town..  But that's the whole fun of it.  Besides that, the food always tastes better when you really have to work for it.  Clancy took a deep breath and started his long walk to the promised land.
     
     As he crawled into his moving truck he looked back one last time at the diner and the waitress he would probably day dream about for months. With a pump of the gas, a punch of the clutch, and flick of the wrist the engine coughed to life and kicked him out of his sentimental mood.  He pulled out of the parking lot avoiding all the chunks of glass from broken bottles as he studied the complex road map.  It wouldn't be until an hour after he left the diner that he would reach his destination.  
     Traffic was terribly heavy.  And it didn't make it any easier driving this truck.  The thing drove like an oil tanker.  The idea came to him that perhaps a semi would have been better to haul this stuff.  It could have held a lot more and people would give him more room on these cramped highways.  Then again a semi would be a bit more conspicuous.  The whole thing was
worthless to debate anyway.  He was driving a truck with the acceleration of a three toed sloth and that was the way it was gonna be.  
     He began to reflect on his fond memories of the military.  There were very few of them. His favorite day had to be when he purposely launched a practice mortar shell directly at the generals headquarters.  They had never caught him for that.  To this day he wasn't sure why they hadn't.  It didn't really surprise him it just didn't know why.  The army hadn't been very good to him.   It seemed like they tried to make him go nuts.  The idea of insanity was fairly easy to fight off at first.  But after most of your unit loses it, you might as well go with the flow.  Now two years later he would still lie awake some nights with the sound of his drill Sergeant's voice ringing in his ears.  "Boy! You couldn't find your butt with both hands!" or "Private, you couldn't hit your butt with a scoop shovel" or "Son, you couldn't hit a bull in the butt with a banjo.".  His drill Sergeant had seemed to have a thing about butts.  At first it was the rumor that the Sergeant was gay.  That idea was thrown out when they met his wife.  You could find her butt pretty easy, no one would tell the Sergeant that of course.    
      A few thoughts of his family began to trickle into his mind as he changed lanes to get off the main highway.  Only his sister had shown any love for him.  And she was long dead now. Perhaps she could see him now.  He knew she would understand why he was about to do this thing.  She really understood him.  It helped that she was deaf and mute.  The honk of a small cars horn from behind snapped him out of his trance.  He quickly hit the gas as he realized he was stopped at a green light.  The plan he had formulated went over and over in his mind.  It wasn't the sanest of plans.  He could back out now if he wanted to.  Maybe go back to the diner
and have a conversation with that waitress.  It was beginning to sound a whole lot more appealing to him at the moment.  He shook it off.  That was his emotions talking.  He tended not to follow his emotions, mostly because they never seemed to know exactly what to do about things.   It was time to get focused.

     Clancy dodged and weaved through heavy traffic as he briskly jogged toward the down town area.  In the distance he could see the buildings that marked his main target.  Those buildings and the ones all around them normally have the most succulent and relatively unspoiled food in them.  And not only that they throw out the most food as well.  "Dinner is served,"  Clancy thought to himself happily.  He cautiously made his way down to the closest buildings and began his search.  The first set of cans had very little in them from the day before. Most of the food in them was two to three days old.  The red meat was as hard as a rock and the white meat was developing a severe case of maggots.  It all was a bit too rotten for even Clancy. Moving on he spotted a building that harbored a huge dumpster.  With a closer inspection however he found that the dumpster had a very large and heavy lid covering it.  Trying to get in there would be more work than it was worth.  It wasn't until the sixth building he investigated did he spot his dinner.  
     It was one of the large buildings in the area but nowhere near the size of the giant ones. The size of the building doesn't matter though, it's what you smell.  And he smelled something awfully good.  As he rounded the corner though he was hit by a powerful smell that made his stomach tighten and do flip flops.  He could still smell the odor of his future lunch but he was
curious to find what this horrific smell was emanating from.  After some primo detective work Clancy uncovered the source of the smell.  A large yellow truck was parked in front of the building that was going to supply his lunch.  And it was very apparent that this is what was causing such a terrible smell.  Satisfied with his findings Clancy walked back to the side alley to find his lunch.

     There wasn't much time.  Everything had to be perfect.  This was what he had been planning for, for months.  He would not let this opportunity slip by him.  He had done that way too many times in his life.  He was engaged once.  Well he wished he was engaged to her anyway.  She never knew.  And he never asked.  It was something he was always kicking himself over.  That and the time he killed half his platoon during a war game because he accidentally used live ammo.  That sort of bothered him off and on as well.  
     He double checked the timer and the connection between the detonator.  The wiring wasn't too complicated but you can never play it too safe.  It was all set.  Without a moment's hesitation he started the countdown.  Now all he had to do was stand way back and watch the show.  As he climbed out of the doomed truck he began to wonder if he would really be able to get away with this.  He knew he had a knack for not getting caught, but this was bigger than anything he had ever done.  The idea of being caught was beginning to unsettle him.  No turning back now.  It was done.  And there was no way he would try and stop it now.  That was one thing he learned well in the military.  Never return to an activated bomb.  Especially one this big.  This was going to be very big.

     Clancy had found the can that was the holder of his meal and had began to dig inside of it vigorously.  The nourishment he was so desperately working for was almost at the bottom of the can, obviously it had been buried by someone to avoid alley cats from digging in it.  And so he had to slide further and further into the can.  It was then that he heard it.  A thunderous noise that shook the heavens.  The noise startled him, making him jump and so he fell all the way into the can.  Just as he hit the bottom, the can rattled from impact.  And then the can was moving.  At first Clancy thought the can had just fallen over and rolled.  But when he crawled to the open end of the can he howled in fear at what he saw.  He was flying.  He could see almost the entire city as he soared across the sky line.  And directly below him he could see a huge fireball engulfing the very building he had been sitting beside just a second before.  The front of the building just vanished.  Where a solid concrete mass had stood was now more of a massive doll house.  With a lot of left over building blocks.  He could see people already running around frantically.  It all happened so fast.  And Clancy thanked himself for never working for the government.  He would rather eat out of a garbage can than push a pencil in an office building that will one day blow up.  Blow... up...UP!  Clancy had a reality check as he remembered where he was.
       The can was starting to accelerate as it descended from its original flight path. Turbulence began to shake the can as the velocity of its decision increased.  Faster and faster Clancy and his can fell destined to become sidewalk art.  Clancy thought of his mother.  Then of his first toy.  His whole life flashed before his eyes.  Secretly he wished he had an edit button for some parts and a perhaps an instant replay for others.  He missed his old home.  The one with
the fuzzy and unmadded carpet.  The recliner that everyone agreed was his.  It couldn't have been a better life.  Three square meals a day.  And there was love.  Lots and lots of love.  It surrounded him then.  It felt like it would never let go.  And then it did.  Just like that.  It faded away with one swift stroke.  A tear came to Clancy's eye. He could remember each face that once hugged him and accepted him for who he was.  And now people would rather stare at the ground then give him an ounce of attention.    
     The wind poured over the top of the can making a deep hollow sound.  The can began to spin wildly.  Left, right, up, and down it spun without consideration for its passenger.  Out of fear and motion sickness Clancy threw up.  The baby back ribs didn't look quite as good the second time through, but Clancy vowed to eat them again if he indeed survived this.  Still hurtling through the sky the contents of the can slowly started to rise out.  Clancy frantically pushed against the sides of the can to hold him with in.  Silence.  This moment of quiet was almost enough to drive him mad.  He whimpered with fear to disrupt the terrifying silence.  With a prayer Clancy braced himself for impact.  
     The sound of splashing water filled his ears and then his lungs.  He began to swim through the blessed waters that had spared him.  As he swam he choked up the water in his lungs, all the way to shore.  Clancy looked back toward the pond just in time to see the garbage can submerge.  With the thrill of being alive filling his heart he gave out a quiet sigh.  Looking fondly out toward where the can had been in the pond he thought of the breakfast and lunch he had lost.  Even though his baby back ribs and mystery meat were now at the bottom of this pond, Clancy couldn't be happier.  It was an adventure he'd never forget.  Of course he would never
tell anyone of this wonderful tale.  No one would listen to him anyway.  They'd just send him to the local pound.  And Clancy knew what happens at the pound.  
        
     He only watched the blast for a few seconds.  Then he casually walked away from the scene.  Praying no one saw him around that truck.  Oklahoma City had felt his vegeance against the U.S. and he was feeling pretty darn good about that.  It was a moment he would never forget. He wondered if someday he would wish he could.  It was foolish to think that way though.  Why rain on his own parade?  It was time to ceelbrate, but the first thing to do was find a car.  And that would probably be the hardest part of this whole thing.  As he strolled along, gradually making his way out of the center of town he could hear sirens and screams behind him.  And he knew that he was responsible for all of it.  He had done it.  And the militia had him to thank.  He would not forget to mention his sister in his acceptance speech when he recieved the honarary anarchy award at their next meeting.  
     As the sounds of screaming and sirens faded away in the distance, he found himself in the middle of a rather peaceful park.  Trees spread out and up beyond the sky.  And the green grass waved gently in a breeze that was left over from the mornings wind.  It really was a perfect day.  And in the center of the park there was a duck pond.  He had never seen so many mallards in one spot in his life.  This would have to go on his list of things he would kick himself for the rest of his life.  He had forgotten rule number one.  Never leave home without your high powered repeating rifle.  Roast duck sounded rather good at the moment.  Neeling down by the pond he examined the other water fowl that filled the crystal clear pond.  Some swans, a couple
geese, the mallards, and a dog. He took another look.  Sure enough a dog was swiming to shore. "Now I wonder how exactly he managed to get out in the middle of that," he thought as chuckled to himself.  That weren't no bird dog, and it sure ain't no black lab.  It was pretty baffling why exactly a dog would just jump in to a pond without good reson.  It wasn't even hot. The dog turned and looked back to the center of the pond after it had pulled itself ashore.  It stared out there for a long time.  And then it shook itself off.  
     This dog was something he wanted.  For some reason his heart went out to the animal. It looked so lonely.  And a bit mangey. He could take it home with him.  He needed another dog around the place.  You can never have enough dogs.   It would more than likely get along with DeWayne, his pitbull.  DeWayne had always been friendly to him.  He walked over to the soaked dog and went down on one knee.  
     "Come here pooch.  I won't hurt yah.  Come on now.  I'll give you some real food."  He smiled as the dog turned and took interust in him.

     Clancy was in shock.  This was the first human being to even so much as talk to him in over three years. (Dog years.) It looked like a nice man.  Clean cut, handsome, probably very organized.  And he kept repeating a word that Clancy had never passed up in his life.  "Food." The man kept repeating the word as if he had an unlimited supply of it.  It was too good to be true.  However Clancy knew that these opportunities are few and far between, so he threw caution aside and romped over to the man.  The man picked him up and held him close, even thought he was wet.  Clancy could feel the love in the man's embrace.  He could feel it so well
that it scared him.  Clancy struggled to break free but the man held tight saying, "It's ok, It's ok.".  He began to wonder if  this man had been unable to show much love to anyone in his life. That would at least explain the death grip hug.  It was obvious he loved him a great deal.  And if he loved him this much he would feed him all the more.

     He knew he had found his sould mate.  This dog was not like DeWayne at all.  This one was special.  It understood him.  And he would never let it out of his sight again.  Heaven help him if he ever did.  For suddenly this dog was all that he was.  And all that he was to become.