Summer Shorts-Four Short Stories Read Online Free PDF Page B

solemnly added
"Sandman, I'm afraid the show's closing down in a few minutes. I've
got just a couple of tricks left in me…then I'd appreciate a big
finale. Really light it up for me…okay?" Again there was a pause on
the radio, and a subdued Sandman replied "Understood. You call it,
BB."
    Attaching the low light Twilight scope, BB
began picking off the VC as they slithered towards the wreckage in
the darkness. Each one cried out in surprise…amazed that they had
been seen in the fog shrouded blackness of the jungle night. BB
felt neither joy nor remorse as he shot one after another. He
thought for a moment that he was back in his basement shooting
gallery with Hercules looking on from his cage.
    The sound of a vehicle braking squealed
beyond the tree line. With a last ounce of hope left in him, BB
clicked the headset and muttered "Sandman, you expecting company?"
A quick reply shot into the headset "Not friendly, BB. You're in a
bad spot". The tree line seemed to quiver as a dozen VC emerged
from it in the darkness. They moved towards the wreckage like
shadows…silently gliding through the mist.
    "Oh, you think so?" BB mused. "The crew only
gave me one clip. It's empty"
    Then BB added: "So Sandman, do you know the
words?"
    Sandman asked "What words?"
    BB chuckled "Oh bullshit, you know what
words!"
    "You start it" Sandman urged gently. BB sang
the verse alone, then Sandman joined in on the chorus…the only part
he ever knew:
    "…Cold blue steel in his hands,
    He's the champion of the land,
    It's a rifle-not a toy,
    He's our hero, BB Boy"
    The pin from the phosphorus grenade dropped
to the metal floor of the Huey. Sandman saw the flash, readied his
bomb release, and flipped the switch. The jungle seemed to erupt in
a river of fire that engulfed the chopper and streamed into the
tree line where it swallowed the VC truck and all around it.
    Turning for his home base, Sandman made one
more pass, dipped his wing, and sang it one more time.

" Mirror, Mirror"
    "Thirty years past
your prime" he remarked to the mirror. "Now just what are we going
to do with you…huh?" Even though the task at hand was to take down
the time-worn, massive bathroom mirror; he, like everyone paused
occasionally to check his hair: not just the "good hair" on top of
his head that seemed to be holding its own against the ravages of
time, but also the "bad hair" that sprouted from the perimeter of
his ears, his nose, and eyebrows.
    He was a young man of thirty-two when he
first beheld his image in that mirror. His home was brand new then,
and he was at the top of his game in his career. His very successes
that previous year had given him the down payment for this, his
first house. With his young wife and two small children, they
planted the grass, landscaped the yard, and finished the basement
into a family room. It didn't seem so long ago, but indeed thirty
years had gone by.
     
    So many jobs at so many companies had gone
away too for him as well. At each job, he had worked hard and
studied his trade. But between poor management decisions, bad
economic times, and sometimes his own temper; he had moved from
company to company never staying long enough to build a retirement
for himself. What little he was able to save was spent on surviving
the times in between jobs. Life seemed to be a never ending cycle
of one step forward--two steps back for him.
    Such it was that on that particular day, he
was again unemployed. In between searching the various job search
websites and going to worthless interviews with worthless job
recruiters or "headhunters" as he referred to him; he had been
given a simple task by his wife: take down the old mirror.
    With him being off work again, it was a good
time to spruce up the home. The "honey-do list" was comprised of
simple, inexpensive tasks that could be completed on the limited
funds of the wife's salary and his unemployment checks. Hopefully
the tasks would clear away the dark cloud of depression that had
enveloped