Sgt. Schultz pulled his squad behind a Volkswagen Beetle blocking the south bound lane of River Road. The little white car puttered at an uneasy idle, its air-cooled engine rattling a loose fan-housing. The hood was crumpled inward and cracks fractured out in white webs from a hole in the windshield, the car's driver, a ditsy-looking beatnik-chick, swayed over the body of a young woman convulsing on the pavement.
Racing to her aid, Schultz was pierced by the realization that he knew the victim, better stated, he knew of her. He often gazed after her as she pedaled along the river but she always rode a three-speed bicycle, not the smashed Schwin in the north-bound lane.
She was still convulsing when he reached her, so he rolled her to one side to direct the violence of her thrashing away from the pavement. Beyond that all he could do was cushion her head with his arm and wait for the arrival of distant sirens.
Though she never regained consciousness, he tried to calm her with his voice. He spoke with the same soft resonance he had used to put his children to sleep. He stroked her cheek and told her of those things that you tell a victim, that help was on the way, that everything is going to be alright, but with her head cradled in his arm he felt his words give way to sobbing.
He had seen her just yesterday. She was a pleasure to watch, a real head turner and he couldn't get enough of her. Like yesterday, he often positioned his squad slightly back from River Road on 32nd, waiting for speeders, but in all reality he was waiting for her. She knew that -- and rode by with the wind pinning her long cotton dress against the bicycle frame, her light blond hair flowing and the muscles of her legs defined by the strain of pedaling -- and she turned - to give him a bold "I see you staring at me" smile.
He loved her, yet he didn't even know her name.
The previous day was but one in a series of flirtations over the last month that kept her constantly in his thoughts. When he thought of women, he thought of her. He had wanted to stop, talk, get a name, maybe invite her out - but he was recently divorced and Catholic, and that had complications.
By the time the ambulance arrived she was gone.
Now as a cop, Schultz had to find out who she was. He looked for a purse, for any ID, but all he could find was a small notebook full of cryptic writing. It contained some numbers and equations but no name or address, yet he knew where she lived; his eyes had followed her enough. After the ambulance left, he assigned Myer to wrap up the scene then drove to a yellow wooden two-story on 35th.
Continued: Her Name Was Verona - Part 2
© Greg Schiller, 2007
Author: Greg Schiller
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Comments: 17
Looking forward to the next part.
You deserve more than ten for this.
1. "its engine whirring with the sound of moving parts not quite fastened together" doesn't do it for me. It's the "not quite fastened together" part that bothered me. I think you could find a better way to say this. And you may not want to have the engine "whirring', but maybe "clanking" or "whinning" or something.
2. "white cracks spidered out". We know what you mean, but why not "spider-webbed out"? It is the 'web' look you're trying to get here.
3. "The car's driver, a ditsy, beatnik chic". But you don't know yet that she's ditsy. Wouldn't it be better to say a "ditsy-looking beatnik chic"?
4. "Schultz glanced through the front door window to check things out before knocking." It's the "to check things out" I don't like. I think the reader can guess that is why he is glancing through the window, but if you feel you need to make that clear, why not ". . . the front door windo and scanned the living room before knocking" ?
These are picky points, but I'm just trying to help, because you've got the beginnings of a great story. I plan to read the rest, but it may be a few days, because I've been really busy of late.
Glad to hear you are busy....I hope that means things are going well for you.
"He had seen her just yesterday, she was a pleasure to watch, a real head turner" I'd test to see if the rhythm of this passage is better with a period after "yesterday" instead of a comma. His verdict on her appearance, IMHO, would be stronger if made into a sentence.
"told her of those things that you tell a victim, that help was on the way, that everything is going to be alright, but with her head cradled in his arm he found his words more useful to contain his own shock and suppress his own awkward feelings for the victim." Have you tried this passage in dialogue? It would seem to be a nice opportunity to see how much anguish you could put into dialogue, especially given the complicated context you want to establish between them. It would also give the cop a chance to interact, even briefly, with the driver, if for no other reason than to tell her to shut up!
Good, pregnant with possibilities start.
i come to this months after it was posted and am wondering if any revisions have been made since April? also, i'm curious about the star rating - - - what's expected of a reader in that area? sorry, i've been a long time absent from gather and have forgotten any rules, if ever i knew them . . .