Be Ready Stay Ready

excerpt from a Be A Man sequel

            As I thought about that day, I knew preparing for my speech had my mind all over the place. My wife stood by my side through thick and thin. I always wondered how our lives would have turned out if I had not asked her to marry me a second time. Rachelle called me the most persistent person she had ever met. First, young and dumb, I only wanted to be right. As I grew older, I grew wiser. Her father’s two words to me on the day he gave me his daughter: Be ready, always. I wasn’t sure what that meant until the evening. Be ready, stay ready. That was my motto.

            I was a warrior. For eight years, this warrior had to grow into a man without a father in a new world. Challenging a warrior’s spirit in battle isn’t effective. It’s put to test during their training or practice for that battle. When I explained this to Rachelle, she stated my entire life has been like one big training session. She was right. As a warrior, my spirit got challenged daily.   At an early age, I fought to prove that I was not weak and proved my worth. As time grew longer for me, I grew wiser and stronger than my peers. Rachelle and Tommy called me a leader. I didn’t want to be that. I just wanted to have a stronger spirit than everyone else. Focusing on what was important to me and my future, my plans in my teenage years for my future, were strategies of legends.

            After all these years, she no longer stared in the mirror for minutes on end. Because she had so many responsibilities, Rachelle learned to value her time better. Her responsibilities had nothing to do with me but with everyone around us. Rachelle learned the mirror was her crutch. No need to carry a crutch around when both legs work perfectly. As the way she carried life around, our life together was much changed. I wanted the best for her. That’s why I slept little and learned so much to be the best I could be. She inspired me to do so much. This is one of several people in my life I didn’t want to let down.

Hitchhiker Ghost

This is a story that was told to me as a youngster and gave me chills. It frightened me one night as I drove this same highway to visit someone. I know I saw this hitchhiker ghost. Enjoy!

On a chilly October night, a young man from Youngsville, NC was on his way to a party at a local dance hall. While traveling there on NC Hwy 96, he passed an attractive young woman on the side of the road. He stopped to offer her a ride and eventually agreed to accompany him to the dance. While there, everyone at the party found her very charming and after the dance was over, the young man offered a ride home.

She told him his address, an address in Oxford, NC. As they left the dance hall, the night had turned rather chilly. The young man offered her his jacket to wear to keep warm as he drove her home. After a short drive down NC Hwy 96 to the young lady’s home, they pulled into the driveway of the house where the girl said that she lived. As the driver turned to the girl to tell her they had arrived, to his amazement, she was gone! The passenger seat of the car was empty, even though the door had never opened. The young lady had simply vanished.

Not knowing what to do, the young man went up to the door of the house and knocked. An elderly woman answered the door, and he explained what had happened. Almost immediately, the aged woman seemed to know what he was talking about. The young girl that had accompanied him to the dance was, in fact, the elderly woman’s daughter; the same young daughter that had died in a car accident 10 years prior out on NC Hwy 96. She tells him that since she has passed away; she had been trying to get home ever since.

The frightened young man didn’t believe her, even though the name of the girl that he had taken to the dance was the same as the woman’s daughter was the same. In order to convince the young man, the old woman told him exactly where to find the deceased young girl in the local cemetery. The young man proceeded to the cemetery; armed with a flashlight and the directions he had been given. He quickly found the headstone with the girl’s name on it, with a death date of 10 years ago to the exact date. Neatly folded over the top of the grave was the coat that the girl had borrowed to ward off the night chill.

Every year, on the same night that this young woman died, her spirit continues to walk NC Hwy 96 looking for a ride home to which an unexpecting young man gives her before she disappears into the cold night air never getting home. So if you’re ever riding the road on NC Hwy 96 between Youngsville and Oxford, just note that the young woman that you see walking alongside the road will amaze you, but when it’s time to go home, she will never make it.

She’s The Man excerpt

As I close the creative side of my latest project out, it gives me joy to share this with you. The following is the opener of She’s The Man ripped straight from the Be A Man Universe. She’s The Man differs greatly from its predecessor in tone and pace. I can’t wait until I can get this in your hands, but for right now, take a glance at the hardest story to write: She’s The Man.

Looking in the mirror had always been my favorite pastime.   When I woke up in the morning, I stared at myself, looking back at the plain jane girl in the mirror for at least three minutes.   Partly to wake myself up, but the sole reason I needed to do that was because I was me.   I know that makes no sense, but I am me and this is my story.   A spattering of freckles across my nose that were slightly darker than my skin, I noticed every one of them.   The chubbiness in the cheeks came from either my Mom’s side of the family with the fat faces or my love of peanut butter cups.   The hair!  Oh my, the hair.   Since I turned nine, I had it coming from here and there.   At my age, the amount of hair on my head was an understatement considering I had it growing on my legs, arms, armpits, and undercarriage.   My identical twin even pointed out the stray hairs leaking out of my nose from time to time.   It remained tough for me to be me with my flaws. 

            The mirror also told my story.   It was me looking back at me.   I didn’t look in the mirror to see Brielle, my identical twin.   Brielle and I were identical in DNA alone.   Other than our faces, our looks grew distinct.   However, our fat faces still told the same story: identical twins.   The mirror every morning greeted me without fail.   Every day, I grew closer to womanhood.   Stephen, my older brother, would often yell at me to get out of the bathroom so he could brush his teeth while I stared at Rachelle Amanda Arlene in the bathroom’s mirror.   I didn’t care.   He would repeatedly leave piss on the back of the toilet and the toilet seat up knowing he and I shared the same bathroom, but that was my brother.   I had to remain cordial to him.   He was just lucky enough that he didn’t have to share a bathroom with all five of his sisters, or there would be trouble. 

            My life continued being a complex web of everything.   My parents were great but had to split their time raising six children.   I would have loved to call myself a Daddy’s girl, but my father had too many.   He and I would mostly bond over sports and him talking about work.   My father taught me everything I knew about basketball and baseball, and for that, I loved him so much.   My mother was my rock.   Out of all my siblings, Brielle and I looked the most like her.   A high school dropout, my mother had always been beautiful.   At the ripe old age of thirty-four, she remained the most exquisite woman we all knew.   That was until unless she had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.   She and I bonded on life as women. 

            Ever since coming to her as a nine-year-old frantic about my first menstrual cycle, my mother took me under her wing.   Teaching me how to be a lady, how to talk, and how to smile were all topics in Amanda Arlene’s school of charm.   At least once per month, she would invade my personal space and ask me about acquiring a boyfriend.   At fourteen, I didn’t need a boyfriend.   I needed to perfect my jump shot so I might beat my older sister, Stephanie, in one-on-one basketball and maintain my perfect grade point average. 

            However, life with my parents wasn’t all bad.   Food on the table, clean clothes on our backs, and lots of yelling and cussing at the dinner table was the norm for us.   My Mom’s goal was to teach all of her girls how to get married, and my father’s goal was to teach us all how to be a man.   That’s where life got complicated for me.   I could never be a man, but perhaps I would learn to act like one.   At the end of it all, I had to look at myself in the mirror and be happy with those results. 

            As fate would have it, life does not end when people hate you.   It’s tough saying this as a teenager when everything around you seems so unreal and unfair.   As a freshman in high school, everyone constantly compared me to my older brother and sister in almost every way.   It was tough as I played sports alongside my older sister and identical twin sister, as I needed to find my identity.   When I came home every day, I needed to grow into being my own person to appease my family.   Thank goodness, my two younger sisters do not think of me as just a twin or someone that doesn’t have a voice.   Cynthia and Lisa treat me like an individual.   Mostly, my twin treats me like an individual.   Being referred to as the name “twin” gets me angry, and it was time for a change. 

New Life

This is an excerpt from She’s the Man and a spinoff of one of my short stories.  I call this excerpt “New Life” because new life represents a change we all have when it enters the world. 

            Brielle and I quickly made our way to the room where Kimorri sat with her visitors.  In her room, Kimberly and Walton joined her.  It shocked me to see Walton there, as I didn’t understand he had joined them in the fray at the hospital.  When Brielle and I walked into the room, I greeted everyone and asked, “So, what’s the doctor saying? When is the baby coming out?”

            “You guys are late,” Walton said while holding my hand.  “She’s already here.”

            “Huh?” I asked.

            “What do you mean she’s already here?” Brielle asked while sitting in a seat closest to the bathroom door.

            “I’ve had her about an hour ago,” Kimorri said.  “She’s still getting all cleaned up.”

            “Wait, I thought you were just in labor,” Brielle said.  “Kimberly, you didn’t say she already had the baby.”

            “Brie, that was over two hours ago since we last talked,” Kimberly replied.  “She had a seven-pound eight-ounce baby girl since then.”

            “Oh, my goodness! How is she?” I asked.

            “She’s a trooper.  She came out kicking and screaming,” Walton said.  “It was a scary sight to see.”

            “Oh, really? Were you scared?” I asked Walton.

            “No, it’s just too much for me,” Walton said.  “Rae, walk with me down to the nursery.  Your niece is being prepped, and they said they’ll put her in the window.”

            “Guys, we’ll be back,” I said before Walton and I walked out of the room.

            He led me down the hall toward the nursery.  Once at the nursery, Walton and I began scanning the room for my first niece.  “Do you see her?” I asked my boyfriend.

            “Nope, and I don’t think they’ll put her here first,” Walton said.

            “Why not?” I asked.

            “Because she hasn’t seen her mother yet.  She’s probably hungry.  Need to get that first meal out of the way,” Walton said.

            “That makes sense.  I have to ask the question.  What are you doing here?” I asked.

            “It’s my first niece being born,” Walton said.

            “Your niece? Since when did she become your niece?” I asked.

            “Since I got drug off the basketball court with Jason to help put together her crib,” Walton said.  “Besides, she’s your niece and I’ve got big plans.”

            “How sweet of you to think like that.  Who does she look like?”

            “She looked like one of those aliens from the movies.  So, I guess Sigourney Weaver.”

            “I don’t know why I even ask you questions.”

            “They asked me if I wanted to be with her while she got cleaned up, but I had to let them know that I was the uncle, quickly.”

            “Hey, guys,” Mom said while walking up to us.  “How’s Kimorri?”

            “She’s great.  She’s doing well,” I said.

            “How far along has she dilated?” Mom asked.

            “What’s dilated?” Walton asked.

            “How far along has her cervix dilated?” Mom once again asked.

            “I don’t have the slightest idea what that means,” Walton said.

            “Sorry, Mom, we don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told her.

            “Rachelle, haven’t we had the talk.  Once her cervix is ten centimeters dilated, it’s time for the baby to come,” Mom said.  “Rachelle, haven’t I taught you anything about sex education and pregnancy?”

            “Oh! We don’t have to worry about that.  Kimorri had the baby,” Walton said.

            “She had the baby?” Mom asked.  “Where is it?”

            “She’s getting cleaned up,” I said.  “We’re just out here looking at all these other babies.”

            “That was fast.  I wish Steve could have been here,” Mom said.  “By the way, Walton, how did you get here?”

            “I rode with Kimberly and Kimorri to make sure Kimorri and the baby got here safely.  I just did what any man would do,” Walton said.

            Mom looked over at me and smiled.  Six hours of shopping with her husband and daughter didn’t faze her attitude.  Daddy always said that Mom glowed when she smiled, but I never knew what that meant until that moment.  I’ve seen my Mom smile before, but this smile was different.  At thirty-five years old, she was a grandmother and had a lot going on in her world.  Walton’s statement appeared to put her at ease.  “Rae, you’ve got a good one,” she said before hugging Walton and leaving us to stare at babies again.

            After she got out of earshot from us, I told Walton, “I think my mother loves you.”

            “Is that good?” Walton asked.

            “I put it to you this way.  She’s never called me Rae, or any other nickname for that matter,” I said.  “She must really like you.”

            “Good.  Just as long as she doesn’t have the hots for me.  I can’t date a mother and a daughter at the same time,” Walton joked before I shoved him back a couple of steps.

            Shortly afterward, a nursing attendant came out of the nursery to ask us which baby we wanted to see.  After Walton spoke up and told her we were interested in seeing Kimorri Hart’s baby, the nurse pointed her out to us.  She was perfect.  Although we couldn’t hold her because she was behind the glass, that little bundle of joy made me one proud aunt.  Just seeing her wasn’t enough.  After nearly ten minutes of silence between Walton and me, the nurses packed her away to send her to Kimorri.  We quickly followed behind.

            Upon reaching Kimorri’s room, Mom sat next to Kimorri’s bed while Kimberly sat in a recliner on the opposite side of the room.  Once Kimorri received her baby swaddled in a light pink blanket, she said, “My baby, Victoria Arianna.  You are so beautiful.”

            “That’s her name? That’s so beautiful,” Mom said as she closed in to look at her first grandchild.

            “Vicki A.  is so cute,” Walton said while he and I closed in.  “We saw her in the nursery.  By far the cutest baby in the hospital!”

            “No, Walton, she is not getting a nickname from you,” I told him.

            “I actually like that nickname,” Mom said.  “I gonna make that into a little hat for her.  Thank you, Walton.”

            “Oh my goodness, she looks just like Cyndi and Steve,” I said while looking at Victoria while Kimorri stroked her face.  “Mom, did you bring your camera?”

            “No, but I’ll call your father and tell him to bring it,” Mom said.

            “Walton, would you like to hold her next?” Kimorri asked.  “If it wasn’t for you, she’d be born at home with us not knowing what the heck to do.”

            “It’s okay.  I think blood relatives should hold her first,” Walton deferred.

            “No, Uncle Walt, you can’t get out of this.  You need to grab your niece,” Kimberly said while forcing Walton over to hold Victoria.

            “I ain’t gonna be too many more Uncle Walt’s to you, Ms. Kimberly,” Walton said before he reached in to grab and hold Victoria.  He lifted her from Kimorri’s arms and held her very close, looking like a pro.

            “Hey, don’t get too comfortable doing that, Walton.  You look too comfortable holding her,” Mom said.  Victoria started fussing a bit not long afterward.

            “Uh-oh, I don’t know how to stop this,” Walton said.  “Who’s next.”

            “Give her to me,” I said while reaching for Victoria.  “I can get her quiet.  Mom said I was the best at getting Lisa quiet when she was a baby.”

            After Walton handed Victoria to me, I held her very close to me and she quickly quieted.  “Wow, Auntie Rae is all she needs,” Kimorri said.  “Rachelle, you still got it.”

            “I hope you realize that’s what she’s gonna call you when she grows older,” Mom said.  “You guys are too good at this.  Give me my granddaughter.”

            Auntie Rae was my name to Victoria and all my future nieces and nephews from that day forward.  Only Walton called me Rae to that point in my life, but after Victoria’s entrance into this world, everything changed.  Being an aunt meant something special to me.  She was an early Christmas present to the entire family and our crew. 

            Victoria Arianna Hart was a beautiful baby girl.  She was the center of attention for us all.  When Stephen and Stephanie came home, it was great to see him bonding with his daughter.  My older brother being a father was unique, as this was the same guy that just a year earlier shoveled dog poop in a brown paper bag and lit it on fire on the porch as a prank of one of our neighbors that everyone hated.  I could hear my father telling him it was time for Stephen to hang up his little boy shorts and start being a man.  For me, Victoria meant everything to me and my family.  She was a new life and the first representative to the next generation.

Beginning of the Be A Man Universe

I ripped this excerpt straight from the pages of Be A Man. The first conversation Walton and Rachelle have with each other. If you like this and want more, click here and pickup your digital or hard copy today.

            One cold December night after Christmas, I was playing poker with my mother and Marcus’ girlfriend in the kitchen at my house when Montell called me on three-way with another person on the line.  After realizing what was going on, Montell told me that he was going to have that other person call me back.  When the phone rang, I answered it.  The next thing I heard was one of the sweetest but most Southern voices in the world say, “Walton, hi, it’s me!”

            “Who is me?” I asked the young lady over the phone.  I knew who it was, but I was a little too nervous to really say anything more.

            “Don’t play with me, boy.  You know who I am,” the young lady stated with force.

            “Ah!  Yeah, I remember that voice.  No one other than the Southern belle, Rachelle,” I replied as I collected my winnings from a hand of poker.

            “Who is Rachelle?” my mother exclaimed with a funny look on her face.

            “Walt-baby done got him a girlfriend, Gina,” Niecy, my brother’s girlfriend, quickly said while shuffling cards together.  I looked at both and silently begged them to be quiet.  I do not like to be called Walt-baby around people who don’t know me.  Knowing my mother and Niecy, they don’t get quiet for anybody, especially me.

            “Oh, is this a bad time, Walton?” Rachelle asked over the phone.  “Because I can call you back if you need to.”

            “Oh no, it’s not.  We’re playing a little poker,” I told Rachelle.  “You’re just fine.  I’m going to play one last hand, and then I’m all yours.”

            “Listen to this nasty fool.  He gets a phone call and wanna run with all our money,” my mother said about me.  “This girl better be cute.”

            “She is!  Trust me!” I interjected.  Then Rachelle let loose a little chuckle.  “Rachelle, you don’t mind holding on while I play this last hand, do you?”

            “Go right ahead,” she replied.  While I had Rachelle on the phone, we were playing five-card draw.  I didn’t really know what I was doing at first, but I quickly caught on.  After receiving my first three cards, I knew that I was not going to win that hand.   Something told me that I should continue playing.  In the end, I beat my mom’s hand.  She had four nines.  I had a royal flush, the best and rarest of hands you could ever get.  I walked away from the table with about fifteen dollars’ worth of quarters, nickels, and dimes.  The beauty of the entire thing was that I only started playing with about two dollars’ worth of change. 

            After collecting my winnings and celebrating, I went off to my room with the phone.  Rachelle was still on the line, and she was waiting patiently.  When I got to my room, I closed the door and asked her, “You still there?”

            “Yeah, I’m still here.  It sounds like I ruined all the fun,” Rachelle stated as I placed my money in a peanut can that I turned into a “piggy” bank.

            “No, you didn’t mess up any of the excitement, Rachelle.  The party is just starting,” I told her.  She let one of her little giggles out again. 

            “Your cousin warned me about you,” Rachelle said.  “He said that you are one weird cookie.  You march to the beat of your own drum.”

            “I don’t know about all that, but I will tell you that when they made me, they had to have broken the mold.  Everyone has always told me that I’m one of a kind,” I replied. 

            “Well, I would say the same thing about me, but I have an identical twin sister, so that wouldn’t work,” Rachelle joked.  “But I will say that Brielle and I are two of a kind though.   To play on the card theme, I’m the queen of hearts and she’s the queen of clubs.”

            “That sounds cool.  Hopefully, you got room for a king of hearts to join you at the top,” I joked.  She let loose another one of her little giggles, and it helped me calm some of the anxiety that I was starting to have.  “So what I want to know is what’s up with you calling me,” I told her.  “Are you trying to stalk me or something?”

            “No, I ain’t trying to stalk you.  You ain’t all that,” Rachelle joked.  “I was just calling because Montell told me that you thought I was cute, and I wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

            “Well, you already heard it when I was in the other room with my mom and my brother’s girlfriend that I thought you were a cute young lady.  So now what do you have to say about that?” I confidently asked Rachelle.

            There was another slight giggle and then a long pause.  “Well, I wanted to tell you for a long time that I thought you were cute too ever since the day I saw you at the block party, but I never saw you around since then.”

            “Well .  .  .” I paused.  “I never thought you would think that.  I guess I should hang around my cousins more often.  Actually, I’m shocked.”

            “Don’t be.  If you’re a cute guy, you’re just a cute guy,” Rachelle replied.

            “Even if I am a band geek who makes straight As, walks funny, and is basically a typical, boring nerd?” I asked her.  “I mean, hell, that day, I was a little hurt.  I was wearing a back brace and just skin and bones.”

            After a short pause, I felt bad.  For a moment, I thought that she did not like me.  She then said, “What if I like clarinet-playing guys who are smart and are as plain and boring as me?”

            “Really, you had to go there, huh?” I asked her.  “What else did Montell tell you about me?  Did he tell you that I eat with my tongue hanging out of my mouth as well?”

            “No!  Oh my god, you don’t do that, do you?” Rachelle asked.

            “No, I can’t do that.  I don’t think anyone could do that,” I said.

            “I was finna say,” Rachelle said, using one of her country words with the Southern accent.   “How could a guy as cute as you eat with your tongue hanging out of your mouth?  You would have to bite your tongue every time you chewed.”

            “Don’t worry, I’m pretty normal when it comes to something like that,” I told her.  “And stop calling me cute.  Babies and puppy dogs are cute.   I’m a grown-ass teenager!”

            “Oh yeah, we shall see, Mr. Big Shot,” Rachelle said.   “If you’re going to hang around me, you’re going to be anything I want you to be.” After she said that, I was content.  I had no argument with her.

            In fact, Rachelle and I stayed on the phone for about four hours.  The conversation went greater than expected.  She was pleased by my ability to hold a steady conversation and ability to discuss a variety of subjects.  All that reading really helped me out through the years with having conversations with Rachelle.   I was amazed by how many things we had in common.  We both enjoyed playing the clarinet and basketball.  Her twin sister, Brielle, had the same back operation that I had as well.  The big kicker was the fact that she was on the A honor roll as well.  So I was talking not only to a beautiful young lady but also to a smart girl.   I liked our conversation.  Talking to her was easy.  I thought when she first called me that I would be certainly nervous, and for a split moment, I was quite puzzled.  After I broke the ice with her, I was not nervous at all.

Your boys got you: Rest in Peace Grandpa Walter

I once said that I was Walter Burchette the first, my father was Walter Burchette Jr., and my grandfather was Walter Burchette III when he and I had a discussion when I was about five years old.  Of course, I had it backward, but it didn’t matter.  It was one of those stories that he and my grandmother loved telling friends and family.  The father of eight, grandfather of six boys and 1 girl, and great-grandfather of six, Grandpa Walter loved his family.  We loved him.  Tough as nails and let no one know his pain.  He taught me how to be a man.  When arguing and fussing with my cousins or brothers, he once asked me, “Do you want to fight?”  Like an idiot, I’d say yes.  He would then say emphatically, “Then join the Army.”

I once went to prime tobacco with my grandfather one summer to earn some money when I was about twelve.  He told me it was hard work, and I had to be ready for everything in the tobacco field.  Water, mud, the scorching sun, tobacco worms, and the things I hated the most, snakes.  The first morning I went out there with him, my brother Marques, and dozens of others, I worked my rear off for about six hours.  From head to toe, the job drenched me in water before 7 AM.  I worked those six hours helping everyone do something I did not know what I was doing.  I guess around noon that day, Grandpa Walter asked me did I want to go back to the house.  My answer: YES, I’m going to college.  I went back to school that next year and figured out how to get good grades so I could make a little something for myself because I learned a valuable lesson.  The farm life was not for me.

When his wife, my grandmother, passed away in 2006, I had just started dating my wife.  Sadly, Grandma Cluck never had time to meet my wife, but Grandpa Walter would always call her a sweet girl.  In our wedding photos, my wife noticed Grandpa still wearing his wedding band.  That’s what she wanted when she married a man with the same name as my grandfather.  A man dedicated to her so much, he’d wear a ring after her death.  She named her son after him.  Now it’s up to us to ensure we carry our family legacy forward and grow with each generation.  When me, Monte, and Jermaine, and sometimes Donte when he came down from Richmond, ran amok at his house, you could see the smile on his face because we were that next generation to grow under his watch.  Even after burying 3 sons, he had much to live for.  The rock of our family.

Too many times, I’ve spoken of time.  Time is our enemy because it never loses.  We are all susceptible to it.  The sun rises every day and will set, albeit, at different times, for each one of us one day.  The will be no need to cry because when the sun is down, we are free.  Surrendering to the darkness and moonlight of the other side of existence.  No matter how much we fight, we fall and make it all up to stand on the top of the tallest mountain.  Darkness will fall on us.

So why use any time to fight.  We can’t be short-sighted by simple arguments and disagreements.  We are here for a short time.  So instead of joining the army, we should build an army.  A group of people that looks like each other with shared experiences that’s willing to fight our common enemy: TIME.  Passing a family legacy forward, together.   Without it, we fail.  So I ask, don’t cry for me or my family.  Time sheds no tears.  It never surrenders.  It’s our job as a family to move forward together.

So, as I say goodbye to Walter Burchette Sr, I hope I made you proud.  Go be with your wife, your sons, and your grandsons.  I’m sure Grandma Cluck is tired of breaking up arguments between Steve, Jeffrey, and my dad over the last biscuit.  Whatever it is, you were a good man: Your legacy will continue.

excerpt from The Perfect Weapon

This is from a new project I’m working on that’s much different from my normal work. Being a big fan of comic book characters and superheroes, I thought I’d try my hand in writing a story based on just that. This is still a work in progress, but nonetheless, enjoy this excerpt.

            Being from the south, Will had morals and values that made him second guess other’s mistakes.  Never a smoker or heavy drinker, he lived a vanilla life compared to people that he grew up with.  The day that he knew that his life changed, he stood in front of a police officer and staring down the barrel the officer’s service weapon.  After the first shot fired, Will knew his life was over.  It was like a gnat brushing up against his forehead.  The .40 caliber S & W round glanced off Will’s green, silver, and gold helmet like it was cotton. 

            The same officer fired five more shots at Will before he realized his guy was ineffective versus the six-foot-tall armored self-described firefighter.  Afraid of the armored man because of the feat he had just witnessed, the officer frantically called for backup.  For nearly three months, Will listened to police radio scanners to see if he could help a situation using his newfound abilities.  On this night, Will was out for a nightly run when he was a car down a twenty-foot ravine in the countryside around his home. 

            It didn’t take long for Will to figure out he needed to action as he quickly transformed into his green and white armor with the gold and silver breastplate equipped with the helmet that featured technology only written in sci-fi movies and books.  Infrared scanners and life scanners were the first items made available to Will inside his helmet upon his transformation, where he noticed that there was an unconscious woman trapped inside the car.  Before jumping into action, the police officer that first responded to the scene noticed the armored Will and ordered him to stay back.

            Prior to Will resigning from his well-paying job managing a retail store, Will used his newfound abilities to sprint the fifteen miles back and forth to work every day in his armor.  Because he ran so quickly and never stopped or even clearly photographed, Will became the talk of the Tri-county area as motorist would see a blur blow past them on the roads.  It wasn’t until the day that Will crashed into a deer while running home from work before people got a good glimpse of the other worldly armor that Will donned.

            People referred to Will as the big green metal man before the night that officer fired six shots at him after rescuing the young Hispanic woman trapped in her car.  Jumping into action down the ravine, Will used his super strength to lift and flip the car over as it should normally rest on the ground.  Will would then use his saber, in which it measured 18 inches long from tip to pommel, to slice open the car like a tin can to get the young woman, Anastasia, out of her car.  Bleeding and unconscious, Will noted Anastasia’s injuries were not life threatening, according to Will’s helmet.

            “I said get down!”  The police officer yelled following Will placing Anastasia on the ground at the top of the road near the police officer’s cruiser following his leap up the ravine.

            “This young woman needs medical attention.  She’s alive but not well,” Will said before noticing the officer and his weapon drawn on him.

            “Get down, green man, or I will shoot!”  The officer yelled.

            “Dude, I just helped you save this woman’s life.  Put your gun down and call in an ambulance,” Will said.  “There’s a gas leak on the car.  I think I can stop it.”

            “You asked for it!”  The officer yelled again before firing his first of six shots.

            After realizing that his armor was bulletproof, Will approached the officer who quickly grabbed his baton.  It only took one swing and connection for Will to realize that he was impervious to blunt force and gunshots.  When the baton connected to Will’s left arm, it snapped into two pieces, leaving both Will and the office puzzled.

            “I am not your enemy, sir.  Now stop attacking me,” Will calmly stated while standing in front of the officer.

            “You’re under arrest!”  The officer yelled.

            “For what?”  Will quickly asked.

            “For disobeying an officer and…”

            “Not dying when you shot me six times.  Dude, give me a break,” Will said while still standing in front of the officer before he began a slight retreat.  “Again, I’m a friend.  You can’t arrest me for helping you save a life.  Your body cam and your dashcam are both on.  So, you can’t smear my name.  That lady needs medical attention and you need a hazmat team out here for that gasoline leaking out of the car.  I was going to stop it, but you’re being to hostile.”

            Before the officer could say anything else, Will ran off.  The armor he wore protected him in more ways than one.  He knew that it amplified his natural abilities, but he wasn’t sure whatever else it did.  When he ran into the deer on his way home, he actually ran through the deer like a hot knife through warm butter.  Although the accident was rather gruesome, Will felt nothing.  Will ran to his home neighborhood before transforming back to his unarmored self near the mailboxes of his community.  From there, he ran the quarter mile back to his house in a slight sprint before retiring for the night.

            After grabbing a sip of water and going to his garage to start his 3 AM workout, Will turned his police radio scanner back on to listen out for any more troubles in the area.  What he heard was an APB for his alter ego, the green metal man.  All Will could think about was the bullets fired by the police officer.  The first bullet that crashed into his helmet was scary and infuriating.  As a person standing in front of another person, he never thought he would smell the burn of gunpowder mixing with a lead bullet.  Although Will was uninjured in the altercation, the mental scars formed.

            Will was never fond of guns.  He wasn’t afraid of guns.  He just didn’t like guns.  When his grandfather gave him his first knife at ten, Will took a liking to bladed weapons.  After getting shot multiple times while in his armored form, Will couldn’t get his mind off the sounds of the gunshots ringing in his ears.  His anger had him focusing on three workouts that he performed in a rotation:  bench press, power snatch, and front squats.  Before he knew it, he spent over two hours bench pressing over 400 pounds without stopping.

            That was his life when working out.  When working out, Will never tired out.  Although his armor gave him extraordinary abilities such as enhanced speed and strength, his body changed when he gained his abilities.  Being able to lift 400 pounds was impossible for Will just a year ago, but he’s unsure of his limits.  His body seemed to eliminate the excessive build-up of fatigue-producing chemicals in his muscles, making his endurance immeasurable.  Being a person who hated running because of the fatigue he would experience, Will started running to start his efforts to lose weight shortly after gaining his abilities.  Running around his neighborhood, he noticed that he did not get fatigued while jogging for just over an hour.

One More Round

I wrote this passage to my fallen cousin while seated next to his casket. His passing devastated me, but moreover, he leaves behind a beautiful daughter, an amazingly wonderful fiancée, and a host of family and friends that’ll miss his amazing flair for life. I call this: One More Round.

This is the last time we hang out together.   It sucks because you losing down and I’m still standing.   What sucks is I thither we had plenty of time to hang together. We were good. For years, we had plenty of time. Getting life together and making sure our families were good, that’s what we both did. Hard working Burchette boys.   The three of us…3. 

It was three of us. Me, you, and Jermaine.  The day we lost him, we were equally devastated. Our world’s stopped.  When I got the call about you, my world stopped again. You guys left me.  Alone…but to carry on. I will,  because that’s what we’re supposed to do. However, I wish we could have one more ride.   One more night. One more ride together.   You,  me,  Jermaine.   Throw Lance,  Tywayne, Trevor,  and Donte in the back. One more ride to laugh. One more ride to bullshit each other. One more time to do what we use to do.  The good times. Never a dull moment.

I just need one more round.

Rest well, Monte Burchette.

Smile

for an untitled sequel of Be A Man

Your smile is perfect.  It lit up my life. 

Every time I saw it, my soul was in harmony with yours.  The space between your ears made perfect with that smile.   Accenting your bright eyes, your sharp nose, and strong cheekbones, your smile was your best accent.

Your smile is a lighthouse.  Bringing life to the harbor, without it, everything perishes.  Greeting every ship safely, that’s what you deserve.

Your smile is a work of art.  Capture it and hang it in the Musée du Louvre.  Like the Mona Lisa or the Venus de Milo, it should live forever.

The first time I saw your smile, you may not have thought it was perfect.  I sure thought it was as it hid behind the gates of correction.  Straightening the whites like perfect rows of corn.  The metal shining from your mouth tasted like heaven.  Different as it may be, I saw through the temporary imperfection.

Once freed, your smile could fully illuminate the world.  It put a smile on my face.  Erasing all the pain and sorrow.  Your smile was and still is just perfect.

As the light from your face created a perfect direction of hope and dreams, a man like me could not dream to see a smile like yours. 

Simply beautiful, simply great, I couldn’t describe the words, as I sit here and write the perfect words to say to the one I treated so wrong.  I hope the words don’t go unheard, as for years you have been the one that I never thought I could express the words I feel.  The one that possibly… no, undoubtedly got off the hook. 

As I look at your smile and understand I couldn’t fulfill your dreams as one should.  I never thought I would feel the way I do. When I saw that smile, I knew I had to say something to you and explain how I feel today because I don’t have a tomorrow. 

Your life is good, but I hope it’s great as I try to tell you that the world deserves to see your grin. 

Your smile is perfect.  I can’t fully explain what that means. 

Having a photographic memory of such a photogenic smile brings happiness to my mind.  Keep smiling for yourself and everyone around you, because that’s what you deserve. 

Happiness!  Your joy and contentment is what I care about, but your smile is a superpower I wish you would use for my enjoyment. 

Keep smiling for the world, even though it doesn’t deserve it.  Your smile is amazing as the world should know. 

Never give up on your hopes and dreams, and keep smiling for you and for me.

The Wedding Vows

from Chapter 11: I Do

excerpt from Be A Man

            As the beads of time trickled down to our moment, lots of thoughts traveled throughout my mind.  Rachelle’s stunning beauty completely shocked me and gave way to a moment that I could not ever think.  When Mr.  Yoast announced that Rachelle and I prepared our own vows, the reality of the moment came to me.  I forgot to write my vows!

            Before Rachelle gave me her vows, she turned to Kimberly, who stood behind her, and received a rolled piece of paper that was rolled together with my wedding band.  It looked as if she perfectly planned this moment for years.  Rachelle removed my wedding band and gave it back to Kimberly while Kimberly held both her own flowers and Rachelle’s grand bouquet of flowers as well.  My bride quickly unrolled the ivory-colored paper and straightened it so she could read the vows that she prepared.  “Walton, as we enter our lives together, I want you to know that you are my very best friend.  Our love has brought us here today for me to profess to the world that you are my man.  I promise to love and honor you to the best of my abilities.  As your wife, we will share laughs, have times of joy, and achieve the highest of the highs in the world.  I will support you and your dreams, help you achieve your goals, and promise to continue to learn from you as you are now my life’s wizard of knowledge.  We will have differences, times of sorrow, eras of pain, and periods of indifference, but through it all, I will stand there with you.  I, Rachelle, take you to be my lawfully wedded husband for better or for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health and will promise to obey .  .  .  as long as we both shall live.  I love you and will give you myself as we travel down this winding road of life for the next seventy to eighty years of life that we have left.  Do not forget you have my honesty, my faithfulness, my patience, and my purity to you and only you, again, for as long as we both shall live,” Rachelle recited mostly from memory while standing in front of me as beautiful as she could ever look.  Dressed in a beautiful white dress with green and gold accents, Rachelle looked like a beautiful princess.

            She could tell that I was nervous as she looked and gently smiled.  As she gripped my hand even tighter than before, I started my unwritten vows.  Rachelle rarely wore makeup on a habitual basis other than lipstick and a little eyeshadow for a little bit of color.  On our wedding day, Rachelle’s face was loaded with the perfect amount of makeup.  Perfection could not be made any better than what Rachelle looked like on our day.  She smelled like heaven, and because of her beautiful smile, I was ready for the honeymoon.

            It was soon my turn to recite my vows, but I did not have anything written since I forgot to write or even practice whatever I wanted or needed to say.  Ever the fast and methodical thinker, I knew I could just wing it.  When it was my turn, I did not hesitate.  “I, Walton, choose the love of my life to be my lawfully wedded wife to be no one other than Rachelle.  You have stood by my side for these last few years through good times and in the bad times.  I guarantee to cherish you and respect you as my equal, my partner, and my soul mate.  My role is to compliment you as I protect you, honor you, support you, and provide a life for you and our family to take us into the rest of our lives.  Today you are my wife and will be the one person that will be able to share laughter, compassion, sadness, anger, and most importantly, love.  You and I will create a home of love and care, and today as we profess this prodigious love to each other, I marry my best friend to become partners and lovers for the rest of our days.  Thank you for taking me as I am as I will give you my all, including my life and soul to keep,” I recited for the very first time.

            “Walton, that was beautiful,” Rachelle whispered.  “You did a great job!”

            “I didn’t write it.  I just made it up as I went along,” I whispered back to her.  She looked at me very surprised before nudging me on the arm.

            “I love you,” she replied.

            “I love you even more,” I returned before we continued with the service.

As I was finishing up season 3 podcast, I came across this passage that I completely forgot I wrote just before I sent my manuscript to the publisher. Anyone needing help writing their wedding vows, look here for inspiration as it almost makes the regret that my wife and I didn’t write our own wedding vows. Almost, because I would have never gotten through it. Enjoy my people.