SHORT STORY: Track 1 - Misery

Introduction

With all of the music in the world that is continually evolving, there truly is something for everybody, and in the event where something is missing, some inspired individual takes the torch and creates something new. So with all of this music filling our ears with an endless onslaught of this and that, it is a rare occasion that someone finds something that is truly perfect on all levels of enjoyment. The perfect sound, the perfect lyrics, the perfect riffs, the perfect energy; the list goes on, but I am sure you get the point. For me, one such album that has achieved the perfection status is Let Your Dim Light Shine by Soul Asylum.

For me Soul Asylum has been one of the few consistent bands to produce quality music as the years go by, and I am not ashamed to admit that I stumbled onto the band on accident over a decade ago. Way back when, where there was not a computer in every home and when the internet was available at every fingertip, when you heard a song on the radio you liked you had to do a little research rather than download. Now I heard this song that I liked and having heard “Shove” and Runaway Train” by Soul Asylum before, I thought that this song was also by them because it sounded like it fit into their sound. Now, it turns out that I was wrong, but luckily I only found out this information after I headed to my local used CD shop and picked up a copy of Let Your Dim Light Shine because that was the only album in the Soul Asylum catalog that they had. I listened to the CD and I became an instant fan, and years later I still frequently listen to the CD, I own all of their other CDs and I have seen them live in concert. A fan for life was born on that day when I mistakenly thought they sang a song that they did not, which happened to be “Cats in the Cradle” by Ugly Kid Joe, who I never got into besides kinda liking that one song. It is weird how life works sometimes, and I hope you enjoy my tales inspired by each of the tracks off of Let Your Dim Light Shine…and if you have never heard the album before and have an open mind to music, check it out, it truly is amazing.

Track 1 – Misery

George sluggishly opened his eyes and struggled against his restraints. “What the hell,” he screamed in confusion. “Hello, is anybody here? Help.”

If there was anybody there it was not anybody who responded, and definitely not anyone who would help. George tried to sit up through the pain that encompassed his entire body, but he could not budge for he was tethered by his feet to the metal table, his hands were clamped in shackles hanging over him, and a great leather strap was bound across his chest leaving him no leeway to move.

“Is this a joke?” George cried out in rage. “I have money, what do you want?”

No reply, George’s frustration grew.

Why am I here, George asked himself, thinking back not too far to the last cruel act he completed. Well I am not innocent, George figured, but I am necessary.

“Show yourself,” George continued to clamor, less to learn of why he was there and more so that he did not have to be alone anymore. Ever since he was a child George was afraid to be alone, perhaps for fear of what his own thoughts would bring, but the conditioning and beatings that he fell at the hands of his father would prevent him from ever admitting to the weakness in his later life.

“No one I know has the gall to take me on,” George sneered. “Which means you were hired and therefore can be bought back.”

George waited for a nonexistent reply.

“You are obviously a business man, and running a successful business, which means that you cannot turn down a good opportunity when it presents itself,” George softened his tone. “How does half a million dollars sound to let me go, and a full million if you clue me in on who hired you?”

Silence remained.

“This offer will not be on the table forever,” George shouted, but upon using the table metaphor he was immediately pulled back into his dire situation. He knew he needed to get himself free from the table, or at least figure out who was behind the ordeal so that he could use that as leverage in his bargaining.

Could it be my cousin Frankie, George ran the possibility through his logical brain. No more than a year ago the two were out on a lunch together and stopped by the bank so that George could make a hefty deposit from a bribe he received earlier in the day. While at the bank, prior to completing his transaction with the teller, three armed and masked assailants ran in butting people with their guns and making demands for all of the money on hand. Thinking quickly, George turned to Frankie and asked him how much money he owed him for buying into his company two months earlier.

“Almost one hundred thousand dollars,” Frankie answered. “But I told you that you do not need to worry about the money, I will take it out of the dividends you will be making, I just needed your name associated with it for the clout that follows your name around, but this seems like hardly an appropriate time to discuss. Our lives are in danger.”

“Let’s call it an even hundred thousand,” George said as he looked up at the banks security camera, popped open his briefcase to reveal stacks upon stacks of hundred dollar bills, and handed the briefcase over to Frankie.

“What the hell are you doing?” Frankie yelled, before he was silence by a gunman who ripped the case from his hand and welted him in the stomach.

Frankie is certainly a viable candidate who would put him in this misery, George considered, but because George turned around and sold his shares of the company to a competitor who drove Frankie out, George knew that Frankie could not muster up the money to hire anyone for anything. Frankie was living on the streets now after all. It was a good thing that George was wise enough to make sure the transaction in the bank was captured on camera, which sure did help in the lawsuit, and so did the fact that the judge was a fraternal brother of George from back in his Princeton days.

Who else would put him through this misery if Frankie is out of the question, George racked his brain. Some protestor from his work? George owned a pharmaceutical company that did great research into developing immunizations, vaccinations, and inoculations for some of the most prevalent and newer viruses, although the protestors and a great number of lawyers believe that George’s company was also responsible to leaking some of the diseases they were profiting off of curing. That is neither here nor there, George shook off, protestors are nothing more than the next generation of hippy, who would rather wield a sign than do a day’s work.

“Who the hell are you?” George screamed at the peak of his aggravation. “I can’t take it, either tell me what the hell you want or put me out of my misery. If there is one thing I cannot stand it is dragging your damn feet.”

George’s ears then tingled as he picked up a faint rustling across the room. His eyes flickered over and in the shadowy doorway he spied a form that was not there before. George could not fully comprehend the menace that the form held, but he knew there was nothing but malice in the way it stared at him through the darkness and he could not mutter a single word; speechless.

A heavy boot step deafeningly echoed throughout the small metallic room and the form moved forward. One boom of a step followed by another and the person was nearing the dingy overhead light that dimly provided some glow. George held his breath in anticipation as he waited the eternal seconds before the face was illuminated and he could identify his captor.

“Oh,” was all George could muster out upon making out the face which contemptuously peered at him. George’s heart sank as he realized how this was going to play out, and he knew that he truly did deserve every horrible thing that was going to happen to him.