Six-year-old Dalton Thompson was enjoying the fresh Nebraska air when an unfamiliar van came rolling into the mobile home cul-de-sac. The young blonde boy promised his mother he would stay in the yard while she was inside with his baby brother but due to a certain sound, the promise would be broken.
The sound that broke the promise was the chugging of a loud car engine coming from the trailer next to his mom’s lot. With the car engine getting louder and more defined, it was difficult for Dalton to keep his promise to his mother as Dalton absolutely loved cars. Surprisingly, the car didn’t roll past in front of his mom’s trailer but it seemed to stop at the lot before his house; the trailer on the left.
“I didn’t know we had another neighbor,” Dalton thought.
He knew of Mr. and Mrs. Fields to the right of his mom’s but never had he seen anyone at the trailer to the left.
“Maybe they have a hotrod!”
Dalton didn’t know many different cars but before his father moved away he used to point out all the “hotrods” on the road. They were always the loudest, meanest, and the fastest looking. Without hesitation, Dalton ran outside of the yard and onto the gravel road of the trailer park to get a glimpse of the “hotrod.”
Although, to Dalton’s surprise, it wasn’t a fast and mean looking hotrod at all.
The vehicle looked like something the people who come and fix your TV would drive except it wasn’t as clean, the white had faded, and there was no logo. Just a long, green stripe on the side.
With a screech, the van door swung open and one foot after the other brought out a towering and thick old man.
A grey crown of hair surrounded his liver spotted head and connected with a beard of the same color. Also, round, gold, grandfather-like glasses hung from his face.
That made Dalton think of his grandpa in Lincoln and how they had to be close in age. From Dalton’s distance, which had been about 20 feet, the elderly man seemed ordinary. Some would even say friendly. The bright colored clothes the man wore gave a safe appeal to Dalton’s eye. A bright white t-shirt, light blue jean shorts, and shin high socks along with matching white sneakers.
Neither fear nor urgency struck the curious boy until the liver spotted man set eyes on him.
“Hi, little one!” The man said with a wide smile before he started to walk towards Dalton.
His face turned red as he remained in the same spot awaiting the man coming up to him. The tall, grinning geezer was now in front of the boy, casting a shadow on him like a tree. Up close, Dalton noticed the man had very few teeth and the teeth he did have were yellow. His eyes were blue but the supposed white around his eye color was actually a similar tint to his teeth and his cheeks were covered with scars.
“Guess it’s time for you to meet your neighbor, huh? My name is Mr. Hanson but my friends call me Joey and I would very much like to be your friend, bucko!”
At this point, Dalton no longer felt safe. He was never allowed to talk to strangers and now it was becoming clear why.
“What’s your name, kid? It isn’t really ‘bucko’ is it?” Mr. Hanson chuckled.
A nervous smile formed on Dalton’s face before he said his name with a stutter. Mr. Hanson then cut his height in half by bending over to get more personal with Dalton at the boy’s height.
“Well, D-D-Dalton! Could you do something for your new friend?” He asked.
Dalton stood still with his tiny legs shaking and his eyes down, focusing on his fidgeting hands instead of looking up at the man’s wrinkled and scarred face.
“I go on a lot of business trips so it’s hard for me to come back home as much as I’d want. Do you think you could keep your sharp eyes on it for me while I’m gone? Make sure nothing happens to my place? Huh, Dalton?”
Relief struck upon Dalton. Maybe nothing horrible was going to happen and Joey Hanson was a perfectly normal man, just with a busy schedule is all. Although, before Dalton had the chance to reply to his neighbor, he was interrupted by the scream of his mom swinging open the screen door.
“Dalton Michael Thompson! You get your ass inside now!”
With his heart thumping rapidly from hearing the wrath of his mother, he sprinted away from Mr. Hanson and through the door his mother held open. Trisha Thompson stayed on her porch, glaring at Joey Hanson while he put his right hand up in a neighborly fashion, wearing that wide grin displaying his few teeth along with his light purple gums. She followed her son inside after Mr. Hanson returned to his trailer.
After slamming the front door, she gave her son an intimidating and infuriated look. He was standing right on the line that separated the carpet and the white tiles in the kitchen with his head down, looking ready for scolding.
“Dalton what were you doing talking to Mr. Hanson?! I told you to stay in the yard! Did he tell you to come over there? Do you even know what could have happ-.”
In that moment, she was interrupted by soft sobbing started from her son. It wasn’t obnoxious but she could see tears released from his eyes, snot oozing out of his nose, and his chin was trembling as if he were freezing. From this she knew he was scared.
The rage she had once displayed in her voice had faded. Instead, she felt the urge to comfort her son. In an attempt to end her sons tears, she got down on one knee to Dalton’s level. She then embraced him tightly and kissed his cheek while petting the back of his head.
“Shhhhh. It’s okay, baby. Calm down,” she whispered
When he seemed more at ease, she let go of the hug then held him by his shoulders at arm’s length. She wiped his tears away with her hand then she decided she’d try a different tone.
“Dalton, honey, listen to me. You and your little brother are my whole entire world; all that I have and I don’t know what I would do if I lost one of you,” she said, choking on her emotions.
Now she was the one shedding tears just after Dalton stopped.
“I don’t trust that man outside. I never have ever since I met him. I need you to watch out for him, Dalton. I believe he’s a bad man. You can still go outside without me, if you please. Just stay in the yard.”
Her hands gracefully shifted up from his shoulders to his face.
“But when Mr. Hanson is home, do not go outside! Do you hear me Dalton Michael!” She wept.
By the time Trisha Thompson dried her soaked eyes, the cries of her youngest son, Christopher, poured out from the back of the trailer. Followed by some not-so-motherly words, she walked down to the room which held the cries.
Alone now in the living room, Dalton heard the loud chugging start back up. He looked down the hall to check if his mom was out of sight. The wailing of his baby brother was still strong so that’s where his mother’s attention was.
The curious boy ran through the kitchen to look behind the red curtains draped over the windows on the face of the trailer. The shunned geezer and his noisy vehicle were now nowhere in sight. While Dalton couldn’t see the van with the long green stripe anymore, he could hear the chugging fading down the road and knew Mr. Hanson was leaving the mobile home park for who knew how long.
Maybe my first time meeting him was the last time Dalton thought.
Short Stories
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Waynehopkins, this is a great beginning to what I hope is the beginning to something bigger! We are able to follow the story line clearly, but not without some questions, which is perfect for keeping readers attached to your work. However, if I could suggest one thing, it would be to work on your show.
Here’s what I mean: You might often here the phrase, “show, don’t tell” when it comes to short stories and other written works. While you don’t do this often, I think the prologue could be better without you telling your readers anything. At least for me, part of the fun in reading is reading between the lines. That may not be fun for everyone and that’s ok. It’s just a suggestion. 🙂
Places for consideration (where I’ve noticed you told something that could’ve been shown): 2nd paragraph (e.g., “The sound that broke the promise was the chugging of a loud car engine coming from the trailer next to his mom’s lot.”), and “It wasn’t obnoxious but she could see tears released from his eyes, snot oozing out of his nose, and his chin was trembling as if he were freezing. From this she knew he was scared.”
Places where you showed instead of told: “Trisha Thompson stayed on her porch, glaring at Joey Hanson while he put his right hand up in a neighborly fashion, wearing that wide grin displaying his few teeth along with his light purple gums. She followed her son inside after Mr. Hanson returned to his trailer.”, and “His face turned red as he remained in the same spot awaiting the man coming up to him. The tall, grinning geezer was now in front of the boy, casting a shadow on him like a tree. Up close, Dalton noticed the man had very few teeth and the teeth he did have were yellow. His eyes were blue but the supposed white around his eye color was actually a similar tint to his teeth and his cheeks were covered with scars.”
Can’t wait to read more!
This was setting writing. Very descriptive and tangible. Made me think back on a few places. When reading, we try to place ourselves, sometimes, in the story. Was neat to go back to a similar setting.