The Book
by Shronda S.
forum: The Book
speculative fiction for the internet generation.

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The Book


      Doris Cook was a wonderful mother, grandmother and great grandmother. She was very beautiful for her age. Her grayish blue hair would swirl about her head as she wore it in the 50s style of a beehive, but when at home she would have it neatly up in a twist. If you met Doris on the street, you would be enchanted by her sweet personality and voice. She was majestic teller of stories of life in the south from World War II to the civil rights movement. She lived it all.

      Doris was a widow. Her late husband was a soldier who made it through the second World War and the draft. He lived into his old age until he passed. They were very much in love. She adored him, would do anything for him. She was a wife that any husband would love to have. Once he died, her family worried about her. She became a shut-in. She would never leave the house. Many thought she had died. Her family agreed for the welfare of their beloved matriarch, she need help. They hired a live in.

      Patricia Hutton was a undergrad who studied nursing at a prestigious college. She was known as a good girl around the town but her boyfriend was the bad boy she fell for. Many saw Patty as a girl who would be brought down into drugs or worse, prostitution, if she stayed with her bad boyfriend. She couldn't break it off. To hid the facade of her relationship, she volunteered to work for Mrs. Cook.

* * *

      Patricia stood in the cramped kitchen of the small but comfy house. She stirred the pot that held the simmering stew. Her curly brown hair hung in a ponytail. It swung as she left the kitchen. She walked through the brown ling area to the brown, dingy hallway to the main bedroom. Knocking softly, Patricia entered the room to see Doris looking into a book endearingly.

      "Mrs. Cook,..." The older woman quickly hid the book.


      "The stew is ready and I am have to go home now."

      "That's fine." Doris stood with her hands behind her and closed the door. A crack was left between the door and the frame. Spying through the line of view, Patricia saw as Doris looked into the book longingly and slowly close it. Patricia rushed to the living room and grabbed her bag.

      "Patricia!" Doris called as she walked down the hallway.

      "Yes, Mrs. Cook." Patricia noticed the book was not in her hands.

      "Did you call the safe company?"

      "Yes, ma'am. They will be here tomorrow at 2 pm. I will be here when they get here."

      "I won't need you here. I will be fine."

      "But, I..."

      "No. You may stay home or go out. Whatever you do went you are not busy."

      "Yes, ma'am." She left the small house, locking up the woman she watched everyday. Patricia looked around the dark street as the streetlights began to flicker on. She looked across the street to a black car as its engine roared. She quickly skipped to the car and climbed it the passenger seat.

      A lean built man sat low in the driver's seat. He looked over to Patricia.


      "I searched that house and I can't find the damn money. It has to be in her bedroom, which she keeps locked. Or in that damn book."

      "You have to think of a way in." His gruff voice sounded.


      "Yes, you." Patricia rolled her eyes. A smile crept upon her face.

      "I might not have to. She is having a safe delivered to the house tomorrow."

      "Good, you can get the combination."

* * *

      "Bad thing is she gave me the day off."

      "Can she do that?"

      "No worry. I can get in." The gruff man turned to Patricia as she sat high in the seat. He grabbed her face turning her to him. He softly kissed her lips. She smiled.

      "We will be living large." He said.

* * *

      Patricia sat in her boyfriend's car as the workers left the house in their armed truck. Doris stood at the door watching them leave. Once gone, she returned inside locking the door. Patricia waited a few seconds before approaching the house. She pulled out her key to the small white house. She entered quietly. She looked around as she held a white frosted cake . She walked to the kitchen, setting the cake down near papers from the safe company. Looking through, she found what she had came for. Taking out a pen from her pocket, she scribbled the numbers from the safe that had been set into the basement.

      "Patricia?" She scribbled the last number and secretly placed the papers back and scooped up frosting with her finger.

      "Why are you here, Patricia?" Patricia smiled as she licked the frosting from her finger.

      "My mother wanted you to have this cake."

      "I can't have sweets."

      "I told her that but she says wanted to make it for you." Doris looked at her helper suspiciously.

      "Thank you. You can leave now." Patricia smiled as she left the house. She hurried from the front porch of the house back to the car.

      Inside the car, the lean man looked over to Patricia who smiled.

      "Got it." She said opening her hand revealing the numbers. The two drove off for the night escapade.

* * *

      Patricia, dressed in black, walked up to the white house. The street was dark as only a few streetlights shone down. With her extra key, Patricia entered the house. Not a sound was heard, Patricia made no effect to was time and made her way down to the basement. The pitch dark basement was terrifying to Patricia. She never liked going to it during th day. She made her way to far wall as she clicked on the overhead light. The single lightbulb swung as Patricia made her way to the small safe in the wall.

      "What the hell can she fit in here?" She said as she pulled out a small slip of paper. As she slowly turned the knob, a squeak was heard in the silent room. Patricia stopped, to listen again. She began again until the last number. The safe slowly creaked open. Patricia looked in excited but became disappointed with what she saw. She removed the only item in the safe, a book.

      "This book. It better have money in it." She opened the book. She drew in a sharp breath as she looked at content of the book. Dropping the book, she backed away. She turned to run but stopped.

      Doris stood before Patricia with a menacing look. In her hands was large rusted ax. She rose it high and came down swift onto her helper.

      After dragging the body to a closet, Doris returned to her book as it sat on the floor. She lifted book with a smile.

      "You were right, sweetheart. She was all wrong for us." She said as she looked down at the severed finger that wore a golden wedding band."

      "Now, go back to sleep. I will take care of her like the rest." She closed the book and returned it to its place of rest.




copyright 2006 Shronda S.

Shronda S. is a college student at Louisiana State University. She is eighteen years old and began to write at the age of twelve. She is from a small town and dreams to go to the big city, New Orleans, where she went for one week to the University of New Orleans before Hurricane Katrina. She is studying Sociology with a concentration on Criminal Justice. Her inspirations for writing began with her 7th grade reading teacher, Mrs. Warren. She aspired to be a writer after reading S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders. She has a young adult novel being looked over for publication and is writing a short story crime drama series. She says she aspires to be as great as her favorite writers: R.L. Stine, Anne Rice, and Patricia Cornwell.