All Hail

A section to the first chapter of my book.

Chapter 1"All Hail

      "All their hair was hurled up and over" Saint Michael sounded his trumpet right over our heads, and one single shot was all the photographer was able to take.  Mr. Wilton's camera malfunctioned right after the first snap, spitting out all its film.  I just knew when I woke that morning, the Lord was at work.  I never look inwards, outwards, or sideways, but I tend to look upwards for my guidance.  As a devout Baptist, I'm sworn to the Almighty above, but as a Realtor in Rutherford County, I took an oath.  I . . . Ms. Ira Wright swore to uphold the standards and professionalism required by The State of North Carolina, and by The Board of Realtors.  To be honest, living in such a small town, I'd be persecuted over any little misunderstanding for the rest of my life.  And when I die, my next of kin would certainly inherit the feud.  "Small town friendly" is what they say.

Why this book is just filled with so many memories, well when I saw-- anyways I have a whole page dedicated right here for you two.  I'm proud to say that you will be my last clients. God has bigger plans for me.  I heard the trumpets calling, and they said Florida.  I met a nice Christian man who owns a condo on the Gulf. 

      Oh, look at the time.  I don't know what could be keeping Mr. Serron.  I made sure to remind him we would be closing on his home today.  He's not the business type.  I've been rude.  Can I offer you a cup of coffee or tea while we wait?"

      "I'm fine.  How about you honey?"

      "I'll take a cup of tea thank you.  Ms. Wright I don't mean to pry but a moment ago, in your book, did something happen in our new home?"

      "Oh, don't look so glum child.  Nothing terrible happened.  If anything it did this town some good."

      "What do you mean?" said Annie

      "It's a long story dear.  I wouldn't want to bore you."

      "While we're waiting, please Ms. Wright we deserve to know the history of the home we are about to buy. I don't think I could sign anything without knowing."

Well, the state of NC only requires me to tell you if a death occurred in the house within the last 7 years.  Technically speaking there was no death.  No Body, no death."  said Ms. Wright.

Annie and Daryl Bremmings, the soon to be new homeowners of 369 Cove Rd. sat wide eyed, eagerly starring across the hardwood table at Ms. Wright.

 

      "Well, as you can see, I have a picture of every client I have ever sold a house to, but the Serron's were certainly the strangest and gloomiest bunch I'd ever dealt with.  I congratulated the Serron's on the purchase of their new home, and tried to make a fast retreat, but like I said, unseen forces were at work that summer afternoon.  A bizarre storm rolled right on in with that hair flippin' breeze producing some of the largest hail ever recorded.  Seven in all and of abnormal size fell that day.

 

 The oddest, was certainly the three that landed stacked one on top the other in the Nemick boys front yard.  I sold their mama that property before they were even brought into this world.  Their Mama passed away several years back, leaving her two hillbillies son's with the property.  That horrid snow beast was much taller than their dingy trailer and twice as wider too, but something was off about the way they sat one on top of each other.  Why it reminded me of a mentally challenged snowman.  I thought it fit the Nemicks quite well.  Jesus have mercy, I know I shouldn't say these things, but those damn rednecks gutted the middle of that beast with a chainsaw, stacked it head high with alcohol, strutted around in fatigues, you know camouflage.  By noon they were too drunk to walk, so they sat post in lawn chairs; a gun in one hand and a beer in the other, like guardians of Atlantis.  "Cool off with Jack Frost" read the local paper. "Have one on Frosty,"  "The World's Biggest Beer Chiller," read others; it wasn't long before we gained national attention.  Our little mountain town was crawling with all sorts of people claiming it to be a sign from alien intelligence. Haley's Comet was on its seventy six year return that year, and with it was coming world peace, or so said those dirty hippies that flooded every square inch of our little town.

      Preacher Milton convinced the Sherriff into bulldozing that un-melt-able beast down, but it just wouldn't budge.  I hate to say, but that thing nearly lasted the entire summer before melting down into the devil's clutches. 

     

The fourth ice crater to fall found this guy right here."  Ira points to a blonde haired man in her sales book.  "I sold him a nice a piece of property with a garden and produce store attached to the home.  Mr. Stinger was a businessman who relocated from California a few years ago.  The locals saw Mr. Singer as just another foreigner with money who fell in love with the mountains of North Carolina.  Unfortunately for him, a large icicle split his brand new 1986 T-top corvette right down the middle.  The car was cut with the precision of a warm butter knife.  It's not like he didn't have the money to buy another, but he sure acted as if he didn't.  I could just see the smile on the Lord's face watching him prance around like some sort of possessed native, as if his lovely car was more precious than gold.

      The fifth fell a few miles north at Blue-Hill Farm, one of Gordy's oldest milk cows had been pushed several feet deep.  The only thing recognizable were her four hooves that peeped out from under that goliath of an ice ball. 

      Certainly the largest to fall was the sixth.  For Mr. Floyd, things weren't as fortunate in the fact that he didn't lose a fancy sports car or a prized milk cow, but his wife, Mrs. Floyd, was sent directly to hell from their second story bedroom.  Apparently, they were about to"I just don't understand how any man could be attracted to something like that.  Mrs. Barb "The Bruiser" Floyd is what the locals called her because she was built like a boxer. Lord forgive me, I shouldn't say things like that, but she just wasn't very friendly.   Barbara spent most of her time in bed, and Stanley, Mr. Floyd, took care of her every waking need.  It wasn't until Stanley put in French doors that she was able to make her way into town, and when she did come out; she would carry on about how everything was too small.

      "Stanley, these car seats are too small, can't you get a real man's car." The salon chair was too small, can't you take me to a real salon Stanly."  The department stores clothes were too small. She even told the butcher, the cows he bought were too small.  The nerve of that woman was most unbearable. 

      Mr. Floyd explained to the Sherriff.

      "The lights went out, and seconds later when they came back on, there was no bed and no Barb, just a big hole.  I leaned forward to see, and there was yet another much bigger hole, one that went right straight to hell I reck'n."  Day's later, with many man hours from local volunteers; the Sherriff finally reached the bottom.

      "Why, that looks just like Gordy's old moo cow." he said.

When the words finally echoed to the top, the crowd snickered and laughed. 

      "Why the only thing recognizable was were hands and feet, which protruded from underneath that frozen tundra," said the Sheriff.

      "Are you sure it was Barbara Floyd Sherriff if all you could see were Mr.'s Floyds hands and feet?" said a local reporter.

      "We positively identified Mrs. Floyd from her wedding ring Mr. Lammer," said the Sherriff

Now, even though the storm was short lived, I'd say it lasted no longer than ten minutes, but Mother Nature was determined.  I thought I was running through a swarm of yellow jackets, and Mr. Serron nearly met his maker. Fortunately, the step that led to the front porch of their new home gave way, just as god intended is how I see it, sending him backwards like a flopping duck right on top of Mrs. Serron and myself. 

      "Holy Jesus Blood I yelled, and there it was, the seventh to fall, blocking the entrance to the Serron's new home. The storm disappeared as fast as it appeared." 

      Margery, the Serron's next door neighbor had seen us sprawled out on the lawn.  She ran over to make sure we were all OK. 

      "My goodness, are you all OK?"

      "Everything is fine.  You can go back home." exclaimed David.

Margery was a bit set back by the rudeness of Mr. Serron.

      "Please forgive my husband's rudeness.  We've been driving for the past three days from New Mexico, and now this!"

Author's Note

Still a rough draft, but need your advice. I'm concerned with my punctuation of dialogue. Well, I'm concerned with everything. I also realize that I don't have much description and could use some advise here. Thanks to all who help me on my journey. Your time is greatly appreciated.