Archive for Fiction

Serial Thriller 1

Posted in Entertainment, Serial Thriller, Uncategorized with tags , on January 13, 2017 by C.L. Harmon

Welcome to Serial Thriller, a fun fictional story written in segments. Please check back for new installments!

By C.L. Harmon

It’s funny what the mind chooses to remember. It fades certain things out to where they hardly seem like they were ever real. While others images are frozen still in the same pristine condition in which the mind first discovered them. For me it’s the flies which my mind chooses to keep fresh and out of the destructive reach of time. I remember how they buzzed around his head like airplanes in some form of attack formation. The little pests were persistent in their desire to taste the death of the best friend I would ever know. To my 16 year-old brain, they were an image that would be blazoned into my memories for years to come and years to go. They were the images of Porter Montgomery hanging from that tree and my innability to swat those flies away that will forever walk the dark corridors of memories where most us never care to venture. I met Porter when we were just youngsters, nine years of age. His daddy Polk had done real well for himself and owned three car dealerships in two counties. Porter had four sisters, two older and two younger. Polk was quite accomplished for a black man in 1957 rural Oklahoma. Hell, for that matter, he would have been quite accomplished for a white man at that time. He was also a decorated WWII veteran, only leaving the service when shrapnel took part of his left leg. Old Polk was a determined man, a determined man indeed. He was determined to survive a war, determined to be successful in business, determined to raise a son that white men would respect and even fear. But in the end, his determination only focused on a blind justice that would be seen from heaven to hell. I remember once as a child I heard some men talking about Polk in Belson’s Hardware. I was probably around the age of seven or eight, not long before I met Porter. One of the men there said that even with his leg barely attached, he fought Nazis off, killing scores of them during the Ardennes Forest Nazi offensive. He even dragged a wounded officer out of harm’s way and saved his life, using the only leg he had left that worked. I guess it’s that type of determination that makes one successful in war…and selling cars it seems. Of course, having all of the black customers that populated two counties and the Indians too didn’t hurt either when it came to being successful in business. Indians didn’t trust white men either I guess. This sense of success is how I would come to know Porter. Polk loved Porter dearly being that he was his only son. But more than that, Porter was a project of prosperity. He was just an extension of Polk’s desire to succeed in a white man’s world. Porter was going to be better, richer, more educated and as equally respected as any white man in the world as far as Polk was concerned. Porter though, had a learning disability. Actually it was a comprehension problem. My mom was a school teacher and did tutoring after school to make extra money. Polk had met my mother once and remembered how she had treated him as an equal and not a sub-human, which was a customary action by many during those times.