Dorthy LaVern McCarthy, pen name, LaVern Spencer McCarthy, has written and published nine books, five of poetry and four of fiction.

Her work has appeared in Writers and Readers Magazine, Meadowlark Reader, Agape Review, Fenechty Publications Anthologies Of Short Stories, From The Shadows, An Anthology Of Short Stories, Visions International, Fresh Words Magazine and others.She is a life member of The Poetry Society Of Texas and National Federation of State Poetry Societies, Inc.

She resides in Blair Oklahoma where she is currently writing her fifth book of short stories.

Tommy’s Dilemma

It was a fine Monday morning when Tommy got the news he had been waiting for. The doctor who delivered the results of Tommy’s test seemed reluctant to announce that Tommy was dying of aggressive cancer. It had been found in many parts of his body. And he was advised to start chemo at once.

Tommy’s eyes bugged out and he dropped the phone, grabbing his throat where he was choking on his own breath. His wife, Phyllis, heard him gagging and rushed from the kitchen. She whacked him on the back, afraid he had strangled on his coffee. Finally, his face returned from blue to its normal reddish color.

“What’s wrong?” she inquired. Tommy grabbed her in a bear hug and began to weep.

“I’m gonna die!” he bawled.

“Who says?”

“I got a call from the doctor. I am eaten up by cancer.”

“Oh, no, there must be some mistake.”

“No mistake, I heard it from the doctor.” Phyllis squeezed him.

“We’ll fight it together. There must be something that can be done to at least slow its progression.” Tommy sniffed and wiped his eyes with a sleeve.

“He sounded very sure. I thought my life was finally straightening out after being in prison for fifteen years after being caught stealing little old lady’s purses. The one I killed accidentally, deserved it. She had a black belt in karate, and I had to brain her with a brick to get her off me. I’d rather die than go back to that hell-hole of a prison.”

“There, there,” Phyllis soothed, handing him a napkin from the coffee table to wipe his nose with.

“Come to breakfast, she said. “Things will work out. You’ll see.” Tommy wasn’t so sure. He could already feel something crawling around inside him.

After quitting his job and lying in bed for a week, Tommy decided that since he was going to die, he might as well do a few things he had always wanted to do. He was thinking of robbing the bank where he did business. The place had stolen enough from him with fines from all those overdrafts he had made in the past. He went to the local watering hole in order to have several beers and think things over more thoroughly.

As Tommy sat there on a bar stool, blubbering in his beer, the bartender came over and asked him what was wrong.

” I’m dying!” Tommy wailed. The bartender rolled his eyes.

“You are always coming in here upset about something. Did your mistress dump you?”

“You know I haven’t had a mistress in years.” The bartender smirked.

“Oh yes, I remember you caused quite a scandal when you tried to marry her when you were already married. I’ll bet your wife never forgave you for that.”

“Leave my wife out of it,” Tommy snarled. A wheezy laugh came from the back of the room. Sam, the town drunk, looked pleased.

“What are you laughing at?”

“I’m laughing because you are going to finally get what you deserve for the way you treated my daughter. Bartender, set up drinks on the house for everyone except Tommy.”

Tommy bristled.

“That was many years ago,” he told the old man. Sam took a swig of his drink.

“Maybe so, but you compromised her and then dumped her. She never saw a dime of child support.”

Tommy set his mug on the counter.

“I caught her down in the sleaziest part of town with a pimp. I don’t think the child was mine.” Sam shrugged.

The child looked just like you, and the poor little boy was so ugly, he wanted to hide his head in a sack.” The beer mug that caught Sam right beneath his left eye seemed to come from nowhere.

“Take that!” Tommy roared. Old Sam looked at him bleary-eyed for a moment and then slid slowly from his chair, hitting his head on the hardwood floor. The bartender hurried to him and made sure he was still breathing. He tried to mop up the blood with a bar towel. He glared at Tommy.

“I won’t have charges pressed against you, but Sam might when he regains consciousness. I want you out of here and don’t come back!” Tommy went, but he was smiling. He had always wanted to do that. It felt good.

***

As he drove through town, Tommy thought about going back to prison. He decided he could endure it if he was going to die. He would have medical help, free meals and a roof over his head. He tried to forget the worst aspects of his experience there.

At night, when the staff had gone home, the guards would sometimes harass him. They reminded him that he killed an innocent lady while trying to rob her. Tommy was silent about the fact that she was the meanest old lady he ever tried to mug. If not for that loose brick he found on the street, she would have eaten his lunch and his dinner too. He felt he killed her in self-defense, but the jury saw differently. At prison he had spent a great deal of time in solitary confinement from fighting with the other prisoners.

Tommy was like a caged tiger in that place. He had always treasured his freedom and to lose it was the worst punishment he could think of. Then there was Brutus, a giant ogre of a man who was also imprisoned for life there at the same time. Not only was he feared by the prisoners, for he bordered on being a homicidal maniac, but he was also the grandson of the old lady Tommy had murdered.

Word got out soon enough that Tommy had done this dastardly deed. From then on, Brutus focused on every vile thing he could do to him outside of killing him. The guards helped by throwing Tommy into Brutus’ cell whenever they so desired. Brutus loved to beat Tommy with massive, ham-like fists, and one time he nearly bit Tommy’s ears off. Tommy complained about the treatment he got, but no one cared. He once spent a month in the prison infirmary with broken bones, compliments of Brutus.

Putting the bad stuff out of his mind, Tommy sat at the intersection in the middle of town. A bent, old man with a cane was in the crosswalk. Tommy waited until the man was directly in front of him and then peeled out, leaving scorching tire tracks on the street. The old man, moving with alacrity he did not know he possessed, reached the sidewalk in about two seconds. He shook a gnarled fist at Tommy, who was sorry he had missed him. He had always wanted to run someone down on the street, and he almost had.

When Tommy’s bank came in sight, he decided if he was going to rob it, it was now or never. Of course, the old hens who cashiered and did other bank business would recognize him. He had gone round and round with them before over the checks he had bounced, had been humiliated by the bank president who told him he would never get a loan from that bank.

Tommy drove around the corner and walked to the bank. He thought he had a good chance of escaping with his bounty since no one in the bank was fleet-footed enough to outrun him. As he came into the lobby, he saw several customers cashing checks and making deposits. He walked up to Ms. Mildreth, the oldest cashier who worked there. He pulled a pistol out of his pocket and pointed it at her.

“Do as I say, and you won’t get hurt,” he said in his best James Cagney voice. Ms. Mildreth looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“That’s a bad joke to make in a bank,” she replied.

Tommy looked at her evilly.

“I’m not joking, sister, and you’d better listen. I want all the money in the drawers put into a paper bag, and you need to do it quickly, or this gun might go off and take the top off your balding head!” Mrs. Mildreth looked at him, decided he was serious and immediately began to empty all the cash drawers. The other workers stared, frozen with fear. A fat lady who was standing next to Tommy, finally perceived what was happening and began screaming as she fell to the floor. She began having convulsions, and Tommy promptly kicked her.

“Get off the floor, old heifer,” he demanded. The woman continued to jerk and kick. At last, she took a long breath and expired. Scarcely giving her a second glance, Tommy grabbed the bag of money and ran. As he went around the corner, he heard the bank’s alarm system go off. Oh no, he thought. I’d better hurry, or I am going to be caught. I won’t have a chance to spend any of this money.

He hurried to his car, thankful that he had made it that far. He knew he had been recorded by the bank’s camera, and not only that, everyone there knew him. It was only a matter of time before the authorities would capture him. Before he went, he wanted to eat a good steak.

At Ye Olde Steak House Tommy ordered the biggest steak they had with all the trimmings. He indulged himself with several glasses of red wine. He smiled at the waitress and made small talk with her as she passed by on her way to other diners. When he was done eating, he overturned several tables, spilling food onto other customers’ laps. He walked his ticket and did not bother with a tip although his pockets were stuffed with cash. Of course, the police were called, and it was soon known that a mad-man was running around town doing crazy things.

The next thing Tommy did was just as atrocious as the rest. He went into a wig shop and set several wigs on fire. A woman was trying one of them on when it burst into flames. She screamed and slapped it from her head and began stomping it. Tommy laughed and thought of how much fun he was having. The wig shop owner came at him with a broom, and he was forced to leave. Some of the wigs were real human hair. They made a terrible stench.

Tommy decided he needed to go home. Phyllis must be worried about him by now.  He was driving through town when he heard the siren and saw through his rear-view mirror that a police car was directly behind him.                                                    Tommy increased his speed, and the police did also. Suddenly Tommy was afraid. He knew he was going to die, but he wanted to have a little freedom to do what he wanted before being carted off to jail. He zipped through an alley, knocking several trash cans over. Frantically, he stopped the car and ran into a building through a back door. As he did so, he heard the wail of more police cars.

Inside the building Tommy tried the elevator, but found it out of order. He raced up the stairs as fast as possible. The building was ten stories high, and he was exhausted when he reached the roof. He heard the tramp of feet below as he opened the door to the roof. Once outside, he tried to catch his breath while looking for a hiding place. There was nowhere to go.

Tommy stood at the edge of the roof. Just before the authorities appeared, his cell phone rang. It was Phyllis. She sounded excited.

“Hi dear. I have wonderful news! The doctor said he made a terrible mistake. Your test was negative. Someone else has cancer, not you. Come home and we’ll celebrate.” Tommy thought about prison with its many indignities. He thought about Brutus.

Tommy did what any sensible person would do. He jumped.