Our BetterMost Community > Creative Writer's Corner
Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll
MaineWriter:
That cliffhanger ending ended "A Second Chance." However, for those who are on the re-reading journey, I am assuming you'll want to dive right in tomorrow with "Shelter from the Storm," right?
Five chapters a day, same as our usual routine.
In the meantime, another picture story....
WHERE O WHERE ART THOU ENNIS? (by MaineWriter)
I think we should all keep our
or perhaps, call on
to pray to
to bring
home safe and sound to
in the little home they share together
When Ennis is home, safe and sound (soon, we hope!) they will be able to eat
and play with
and maybe even with
And when they get to that point, life will be nothing but
This story brought to you by
who in real life looks like this
mariez:
"Where O Where Art Thou Ennis?" - :laugh: How funny is that! Thanks!
And look at you, Leslie! You are Nancy Drew - so cool in that convertible! I'm so jealous! :laugh:
In Chapter 91 we also learn the fate of Jim "High Beams" Allen:
“I’ll go in. I got ta get used ta this.”
“I’ll settle my Texas burger a bit, thanks,” Ellery said, and Dupree followed Flaherty to the exam table where he had cleaned up the face of the victim for photographing.
Dupree gulped as he looked down at the grey, sunken features. “Oh shit,” he said softly, then waved at the window, and Ellery got to his feet.
“What is it?” He opened the door and pinched his nostrils shut, breathing shallowly as the thick odor of decay hit him.
“I can’t be a hundred percent, but... ain’t that Jim?”
“Jesus Christ,” Ellery said. “Yeah. That’s Jim Allen. Or the man who called himself Jim Allen.“
Ah, the plot thickens!
Marie
belbbmfan:
I love these picture stories. Very funny! Maybe we (well, not me, i'm thinking more creative people! :laugh:) could do that again for the new laramie tales.
Nice picture Leslie, and a classy car!
On with book 4 :)
MaineWriter:
And so, we dive in with Shelter From The Storm, chapters 1 to 5 to get us started.
http://louisev.livejournal.com/75525.html
Half an hour later he entered the yard of one of Wes’s neighbors, sat down on his porch step and pulled off his boots, emptying out pebbles. One of the ranch hands spotted him and came out of the paddock, face growing pale as he neared, seeing the garish bruise on Ennis’s face, his filthy shirt hanging off him in shreds, his sunburned, dirty face.
“What the hell happened a you, boy?” said the man, lean and aging, his hair sparkling grey with sweat and emerging sunlight. He helped Ennis back to his feet.
“Ran inta some rough types, jumped out a their truck.”
“We got ta get you cleaned up.”
“I got ta call the sheriff. Can I get some water?”
“Sure enough,” the man said, and ran into the house, Ennis following him with a slow, stiff gait.
L
MaineWriter:
Chapter 2, Ellery, the frantic husband...
After a tense, quiet drive in Wes’s Oldsmobile, they drove up a long, winding driveway to a cattle ranch south of Brown Horse Ranch. “This place is the Wilde cattle ranch,” he said. “Old man Wilde ran this place till he died... don’t know who owns it now.”
Ellery made a small noise, plucking at his lip.
“Settle down... yer gonna spook Ennis actin like that.”
“Actin like what?” Ellery asked, stirring from his brown study.
“Like a frantic husband.”
“I am a frantic husband.”
Wes reached over and patted his shoulder. “Well cut it out. Ennis is gonna be pretty spooked when he thinks about what happened to him, an we’re gonna have ta run em up to the hospital ta get checked out. Jumpin out of a speedin pickup truck onto asphalt does not leave a man unmarked.”
“You have such a calming demeanor, Wes,” Ellery said.
“Just pull yerself together.”
“Right.” He pulled up in the yard, and Ellery opened the door before he set the hand brake, causing Wes to scowl at him. Ellery strode rapidly across the porch. The door was open.
“Hello?” he called, and Wes, behind him, said “It’s the Sheriff.”
Ellery walked in the door, and lying on the sofa in the front room, was Ennis, looking cleaner, but still ragged and beaten. He was bare to the waist, had a cold cloth on his head, and bandages on both knees, as well as a large gauze patch on his back. When he saw Ellery he struggled to sit up. “Oh ... Ellery,” he said, his voice choked.
“Don’t get up sweetheart, it’s all right. We’re gonna bring ya ta the hospital.” He came over to the sofa and Ennis straightened to a sitting position and launched himself to his feet, breath hissing. As the rancher and his grey-haired hand came in from the kitchen, he slipped his arms around Ellery and pulled him close.
“I’m all right darlin, I’m all right. I got away.”
Ellery pulled back and put his hands on either side of his head, looking into his eyes, his own breath catching. “Thank god fer that.” Behind them, Wes cleared his throat, but neither of them moved from the embrace until he set a hand on Ellery’s arm.
“Let’s bring em up an have a doctor look at em.”
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