The Hard Way

It has been a while since my last posting I know. I do not make apologies. No one reads this anyway and for me to make an apology I would have to be delusional. I would have to think that someone cares that this blog has not been updated in forever and I know that is not true. So, no apologies. I do have a good reason though. I've been working my butt off, that's what. Work has been busy busy busy. And continues to be so. It will quieten down some soon though with winter arriving. I hope we have a cold, hard winter so I can catch up on some needed rest and work at home. We will see.

I am toying with the idea of writing a book based on my experiences here at my job. I can't really divulge where I work at this time but I think it would be a book that many people would want to read. I still toying with it though.

Now, let's see. It's been so long since we caught up with our old friend Deuce Maverick, that I should give you a summation. He's trapped in a sinking casket with a hot older lady and is about to drown. Meanwhile, we flashed back to attempt to find out how he got into this predicament. He's just shot an armed gunman who was about to end his life and I guess that pretty much sums up what has happened so far. 7 or 8 long posts summed up in about 50 words. Incredible. I don't know if my summation skills are great, or there just ain't much to sum up. Probably the latter. Anyway, on to Deuce Maverick.

I kinda welcome the rain right now. It's perfect. I mean, here we are trying to escape the clutches of some vile henchmen with guns, running for our lives through the back alley behind my office building, with only one shot left in my shotgun and no shells, and two gunmen to contend with. And it's pouring the rain. I mean, gushing. I expect it must be like the rain that signaled the Great Flood of biblical times. It would have to take a pretty hard rain to flood the earth and I expect that rain and this rain were cousins or nephews or related in some manner. Because it is raining hard. When it rains hard like it is right now, it's very hard to keep your eyes open. The water just beats on your eyeballs and you have to keep blinking the wetness out over and over. But I guess you know that. I mean, everyone has been caught in a hard rain before.

Now before I move on I do have to digress here for just a bit. Right now, half of you reading this believe that the Great Flood took place and half of you don't. Or maybe it's tilting one way or the other. I'm not really sure what demographic this blog/short story site reaches. But either way you are right now wondering what I believe. After all, why would a long time private eye mention an event such as the Great Flood unless he held some personal beliefs in that area? So, go ahead. Ask me the question that is residing on the tip of your tongue right now. Do I believe in the Great Flood? And the bigger question, do I believe in God?

There, you asked. So, here is my answer. Do I think a great flood engulfed the entire earth at some point in the past? No, not really. I can't see how that much water could come and then go away. I mean, think about Mt. Everest. Could there ever have been enough water to cover that peak? And if it did, wouldn't it freeze? Hmm....

Now I do believe that there could have been "great floods" that led our ancestors that wrote about the Great Flood to interpret it that way. Think about tsunamis and floods and dams breaking and all the things that we experience now. It is possible that a large rainstorm could have come up and rained for days and washed away earthen dams around lakes and what not and caused a great flood? Of course. I am sure that those legends and stories are couched in some kind of true experience that took place in those times. I believe that these events were the inspiration for the stories that many cultures have about a great flood.

As for God-blam! I somersault to the ground and land on my back in a deep puddle of water. Liddy kneels next to me and shakes me, trying to wake me up. The rain continues to pour. Gunshots bounce off the pavement around me. I look up and see the curb that I didn't see while running head long into the dark night. The curb that tripped me and left me lying on my back about to be killed by nameless gunmen. I look around for the shotgun, the shotgun giving to me by my grandfather and my most prized possession, and I cannot see it anywhere. Liddy is screaming something in hysterical female gibberish as I struggle to my feet. Lightning flashes in the distance and I see the gunmen now just 50 yards away and closing fast. At this point, it's over. They will walk up and shoot us in the head and there will be nothing I or anyone else can do about it. I look around for a weapon or cover or anything. There are some cars about 100 yards away. I push Liddy toward them and follow her all the while feeling that sinking pit of despair rise up in my stomach. It's over.

I look back over my shoulder. I can barely see the gunmen jogging closer in the dark, rainy night. They raise their automatic pistols - hate those things - and take sight on me. I wonder briefly what the pain will feel lik and how long it takes to die from gunshot wounds. I am sure it will hurt at least for a while. And then the autonomic systems of the body take over and kill the pain and close you down so you don't suffer too long. And then it happens. Lightning streaks out of the sky. One of those huge, white hot beams of crackling lighting. And it hits them. Just before it touches the ground I can see it split into two piercing beams of light and it grabs hold of the guns in the their hands. The pop is horrendous. I watch the gunmen jump into the air slightly as the lightning bursts from their feet and touches the ground, eletrocuting them instantly. The concussion blasts knocks me and her to the ground hard. But I've never been more thankful for rain as I was as this moment, staring up into the lightning streaked sky. God? I don't know anymore. But either way, I thank Him.