It was one of those aimless afternoons...

I've posted before about my story Dunked, but I thought since it is on a free promotion right now I'd say a bit more about it.

The setting is one of favorites, circa 1970's, at the end of one of those lovely long languishing (l.l.l.) summers. As I say in the story,

It was one of those aimless mid-vacation afternoons; not so late in the summer that you thought about going back to school, but around the time you started running out of anything good to talk about.

Time seemed to stretch out forever for us - unlike now, when it seems to zip by just too damn fast. Me and my friends would ride around our small city, and sit on each other's stoops, or go to the pool, or a pick-up game of scrub, or... well, just anything to fill the time. I remember all day Monopoly sessions, I mean, who does that anymore?

But Dunked isn't about waxing eloquent about this bygone era – it's about Hell – or more accurately, the things a thirteen year old worries about. I should come clean and say, yes, I did know a pair of twins growing up, but no I am not Duane in the story (well, no more than any writer is part of his characters). But I love the idea of looking at something like baptism, which can be a very heavy topic, through the lens of a somewhat naive teenager. Now, the Wheeler twins don't think they are naive at all – in fact, they think they know a lot when they tell Duane that he is headed to Hell (because he has never been baptized.)

The debate that ensues is not on the level of say Socrates and Crito (off-topic, I am in the middle of a philosophy class right now), but the Wheelers raise some significant points... in their minds anyway. After a sparring match in the Wheeler basement, Duane puts out his argument:

I continued, "Okay, what if someone's really bad? A bank robber, a guy in prison for shooting someone, or a killer. What about them?"

"Are they baptized?" Ray asked.

"Yeah, they're baptized. But the only damn day they were ever in church was when they were a baby," I said.

"I dunno, I guess they got a shot," said Lloyd.

"They could get into heaven, then?" My voice went up a couple of notes.

"Yeah. I guess."

Then I drew back for the clincher. "What about the most evilest son of a bitch around?"

"What, like those guys in James Bond? Dr. Whatsisface?" Ray asked.

"No. Somebody real." I paused for a second. "Hitler! What about Adolph Fucking Hitler? You gonna tell me he's got a shot at not going to Hell if someone dribbled water on his head when he was a little German baby."

This story has always been one of my favorites, and these characters pop up in different ways in my fiction. Possibly the twins that I have mentioned will land on this blog at some point (or read the story), and say, HEY! That's us! (And I'd love that.)

Another short story, The Plate Spinner, comes as a bonus with Dunked. Brian is having one helluva bad day, starting with the gift of a decapitated bird (from the cat). Things go from annoying to, phone solicitors, to girl guide cookie saleskids, to the emergency room at the hospital.

The Plate Spinner was a finalist in Glimmer Train's Fiction Contest.

You can pick up Dunked for free until Thurs.