Rolling Thunder

by A. R. LEOPARD

  Rolling Thunder

  A. R. LEOPARD

  Copyright © 2021 A. R. Leopard

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  To the lonely, misunderstood child who just

  needed to escape sometimes

  Preface

  This is the only time I will ever explain this so listen well. You may have noticed that this trilogy goes by the rather arrogant and self-important title of, A Really Good Book. Why? I don’t know really. When the idea of the story itself was born I thought it was a funny title and then, as months drew out into years, as the book was left shelved and then picked back up again, I never got around to changing it. Here eight years later I’ve finished the last book of the trilogy and don’t have the heart to alter what has become so familiar. ARGB, those are the initials on everything pertaining to this work, so I’ve left it, as stuck up as it sounds now—I’ve committed to it this long, I might as well make it official. I have given the books themselves better names, big and bold so that no one gets hung up on the series title, but even if you do, I understand. But I’m also not changing it.

  So, what began as a placeholder and a joke gets to stay, not brazenly I hope (I only ever include it on the covers of the books and only then to make them [the covers] look more official). There is a quick mention of it in the first chapter of the first book, but it is so small you might very well miss it.

  There are other little things too, little easter eggs and mysteries that perhaps only the most avid of my readers will catch. Yet don’t feel you’ve missed out on too much if you don’t see them. They span the breadth of all my works and if you don’t end up liking my writing and don’t read any of my other books, you haven’t really missed anything. I do it to entertain myself and connect dots and intertwine facts that don’t end up having much real effect on the main stories themselves, but the practice amuses me so I keep doing it.

  Happy reading, and may these stories be a safe place for you, as they always have been for me.

  A.R.LEOPARD

  ROLLING THUNDER

  Book One

  A. R. LEOPARD

  1

  I Introduce You to James Redmond

  Cliff raced out of the thick forest and snapped around like a whip. He drew his shining blade out of its diamond-studded scabbard and braced himself. Just behind him, stumbling heavily out of the brambly wood, emerged the Shadow Leaper, his cruel mace swinging high overhead. He was raging and screaming as he approached Cliff.

  “You fool,” the darkness seethed, “you cannot escape from me. You think you alone can save this world?”

  Cliff laughed in the face of this threat and twirled his sword elegantly. “No, perhaps not, but I can very well try.”

  He flourished the sword again and it gleamed in the light of a scarlet sunset. The Shadow Leaper gave a horrible roar and swung his mace with incredible power and flawless skill around his black head, eyes bulging. Cliff jumped to the side, prepared for anything. Shadow Leaper released his club with a mighty heave and it landed with a terrific thudding crash on—

  “Dad! It’s three. We have to go right now. Don’t make us late again!”

  The wiry old man sprawled on the bed did not look up from his book, did not even acknowledge the annoyed female voice from belowstairs. No, instead, he hurriedly flipped the page as his eyes raced over the next words.

  ...on the ground, but inches from Cliff's right boot. Cliff leapt to the side and brandished his sword, preparing for a mad, and probably hopeless attack, on the brute in—

  The stairs creaked as someone ascended loudly. The door opened. A woman's head popped in, “Dad, I am not kidding. Time to go.”

  No response from the elderly man engrossed in his adventure.

  The woman, who looked to be about forty, came into the small room and snatched up the book rather unkindly.

  “You can finish this later.” she said as she put the book on top of a bookshelf. The man pouted and reached out for the book like a stubborn child.

  “Please, Sandra, I was in the middle of a fight scene. Just let me see if Cliff will survive this one battle. He's fighting the Shadow Leaper and no one has ever fought the Shadow Leaper one on one and lived to tell the tale. It’s a monumental moment.”

  Sandra Morton pushed the book further back on the shelf, “Nope, doctor's visit comes first. I'm sure the good guy will get the bad guy. They always do. Anyway,” here she pulled out her phone, “Gah! It's five after! We're going now.”

  She grabbed her father's hand and pulled him along, out of the room, and down the stairs, him whining the whole way.

  “Oh Sandra, they'll understand if we're a little late. Old folks are suppose to be a little late.”

  Sandra gave a short, harsh laugh. “Well, I'm not old yet and I don't like to be late. We're already a little late now so let’s not become a lot late.”

  Soon they were in Sandra’s VW bug, flying down the highway, radio blaring.

  “Please turn that wild music off, dear,” James Redmond was the father of Sandra Morton, and at the moment his face was contorted into a grimace, “It grates on my nerves so. It's like listening to a metal trash can roll down stairs. With a cat inside. Who’s having kittens. And I don't know how you're suppose to discern what words they're using. Everything sounds very crushed up to me.” and he shook his head in disapproval.

  Sandra huffed. “So opinionated! Come on, Dad, it’s what’s trendy these days.” But she turned down the volume a few notches.

  “So where are the kids today?” the James asked, searching for a topic of mutual interest, “Seems I only ever see them at mealtimes these days anymore, and even, then they don't seem to say much. I don't think it's natural for children to be so sullen. You were such a feisty girl at their age.” James gazed mildly at the fields of never-ending corn. It was early August and Nebraska's corn was golden for the harvest. At least it looked like it to James.

  “Well, I told you at breakfast that Zachary was visiting a friend, Fabio, from soccer. They have some computer game they’ve been working on for weeks and spend a lot of time together during the summer doing that. Mason is at the gym with Gracie and Shay. After that they thought they might go to the mall.”

  They were silent for awhile after that, at least James was. Sandra was humming since one of her favorite songs had just come on.

  James piped up as soon as it was over, “Have the kids been reading much this summer? You know I was wondering, have they ever read The Crossbow's String or The Song of Vengeance? I bet they'd really enjoy those. They're real page-turners, full of excitement and pop, and just a tad of the unreal.”

  “Dad, do you ever think of anything but books?” Sandra put her right blinkers on and made an exit, “If the kids do read, they read their own texting or Instagram posts. Anything else seems too schoolish. And who can blame them? I'd rather be doing stuff than reading stuff any day.”

  “But Sandra,” James’ voice raised in pitch when he got especially worked up about something, “you can have so many grand adventures when you read a book. You can be anyone or anything. You can go anywhere without having to leave the comfort of your own room. It's all so very captivating! You never know what will happen next.”

  Sandra sniffed somewhat disdainfully, “Life itself is adventure enough for me. Plus, half the things you read in a novel could never really happen anyway. And in real l
ife, people don't like not knowing what's going to happen next.”

  “Well then, what about the morals or lessons we can learn from reading?” James curbed his volume somewhat, “Sometimes they are very deep, you know, and usually quite practical. Surely you enjoy searching for those.”

  “No, not really.”

  James sighed. “Well I love a good gripping story, and I like it even better when it has good lessons to be learned. When even was the last time you read a really good book, Sandra?”

  “Well, quite frankly, I'm not sure I would call any of the books I've read before all that good.” Sandra softened her tone somewhat. Probably because the car behind her had almost rear-ended her, “I guess that’s why I don’t read much anymore now.”

  “Figures,” and James, cunningly turned the volume down another notch or two, “You know, Sandra, you're being difficult.”

  “Me difficult!” Sandra laughed, “I don't think so!”

  And they were silent for the rest of the drive.

  Before long they had pulled into the lot and had walked into the doctor's office. James sat down while his daughter signed him in. He glanced over the magazines. Nothing interesting, as usual. Sandra sat down next to him.

  “Sandra, could I use your iPhone to read something or maybe play a game? There aren't any good magazines.”

  “No Dad. I'm using it right now.”

  James wasn't too put off by this. He readjusted himself in his chair and took a good look around the room and at the other faces there. Doctor's offices were always full of interesting people, and this was no exception. So while Sandra texted her friends, James took it upon himself to conjure up stories for all of those seated around him.

  There was one very thin man who had just come in. He had a very stern scowl, dressed with ill-taste, and limped on his left leg. He was decidedly a retired pirate who had lost his ship to mutiny. Probably cast over into a raft and left to survive on his own. Most likely he had been bitten by a shark at some point in this episode, thus explaining the limp. Captain Storm Brow, he would call him. Bitter, broken man with few, if any, friends.

  Sitting across the room from James was an elderly couple. Both looked quite spry, though a bit on the plump side. A traveling pair, who had had a romantic and adventurous past. She had been an actress and he, a millionaire. And now they were living out their days in peace, prosperity, and happiness, slowly getting rounder and rounder.

  To the right of the room was a very old, frail-looking man. He had weak-looking eyes of a pale, watery blue, eyes that squinted and blinked rapidly. The kind of eyes that make you feel you have to blink more yourself just looking at them. They were happy eyes though, as he looked at a young woman sitting next to him. She was talking to him in animated tones and listened attentively when he answered her back. James sighed happily and let the picture sink in. There was a story that needed no embellishing. A loving granddaughter taking her poor frail grandfather out for his doctor's visit. How perfect!

  “Dad, she called you. It's your turn.”

  James took a deep breath, adjusted his spectacles, and stood up, looking down at his daughter with a little gleam in his merry eyes, “All that talk of being late, my dear, and here we've been sitting for at least a quarter of an hour.”

  She didn't answer that, but stood up, slipped her phone in the pocket of her plaid shorts, and led her father towards the nurse.

  —————

  The car was racing back over the highway, past the same captivating corn fields, but this time there was no wild music and both James and his daughter were unusually quiet.

  James’ mind was back at the office, as he painfully relived that unreal moment when the doctor told him very solemnly—

  “James, old friend, let me be honest with you.”

  James had wondered why he had never been told that he and the doctor were such good, old friends and said that he sure hoped that the doctor was always honest.

  The doctor had sighed at the attempt at humor, “Your eyesight is on the rapid decline, James. Your eyestrain is getting considerably worse and if something doesn't change, you may do some permanent damage to your eyes.”

  That had made James a bit nervous. One never liked to hear of potential and permanent damage. Especially to one’s eyes. He had then asked his doctor what was to be done. Were there pills for that kind of thing? Or shaded glasses perhaps? Maybe a change of diet?

  “Your optic nerves are very tired, James. I know you read a lot because we talked about this last time. Now I’m not saying you can never read again ever, but I am strongly recommending you quit for a season and just give your eyes a break. I would add to that you use no tv or bright tablet screens either.”

  James felt the darkness seeping in.

  “Fortunately, there are many hobbies people have found they enjoy that don't put any real strain on the eye. You and your family could look into some of those to occupy your time during this sabbatical. Get outside. Take up fishing. Or backpacking. But no more reading. Not for a spell anyway. Your eyes are just too tired.”

  A strike harder than any the Shadow Leaper had ever struck came crashing down on James. No reading? Impossible! When would he be allowed to read again? How long was this “season” suppose to be?

  “Come back in three months and I’ll evaluate how you’re doing. I’ll have a better idea then. My hope is that in three to six months your eyes will be well rested and back in good health.”

  James gasped inside. Six months? Whatever would he do with himself? Just a moment ago he thought he would do anything to save his sight, but now? Oh, this was a cruel, cruel fate for such a sweet and innocent man as himself. What had he ever done to deserve such punishment?

  —————

  Sandra was the first to break the formidable silence.

  “Well, I hope you know that reading really is out. You heard what the doctor said.”

  James said nothing.

  “But I was thinking and I do have an idea of a hobby you could pursue instead. Bird watching.” she said it like it was the greatest idea she had ever had, “I can get Theo to hang some feeders right outside your window and you could study the little things when they come to eat. Lots of people really enjoy doing that.”

  He remained silent.

  “Hey, it's a good idea. We could also get you a fish tank and fill it with some exotic fish. You’d like that.”

  James looked at her with a rather vacant expression, “Where in my room would there be space for an aquarium?”

  “We could put it where your bookshelf is now. Won't be needing that for a spell.”

  Sandra was just turning the dagger deeper into his already painful wound. James sighed pitifully and watched as the corn flew by, though as a side note, I hope you know corn can’t really fly.

  —————

  James walked into his room, a room he had left in anticipation of returning to continue the adventure he had been so abruptly pulled from. There was little hope of his ever finishing it now. Sandra was right behind him and quickly caught up that book and several others.

  “Don't want these around to tempt you. I'll send Mason in to collect the rest later. I'm going out to buy you some feeders and bird seed.” she waved her finger at him, her expression stern, but softened slightly by a note of pity, “No reading while I’m gone. And there’s no need to look so down either. It'll be fun, trying something new and all.” and she trotted out of the room.

  This coming from someone who'd admitted she'd never read a good book before was not very heartening. What did she understand of such a punishment as his?

  James slumped onto his bed once she’d left. The open window let in a slight breeze which wafted in the scent of the neighbors cook-out. He tried to imagine his life as it would now be. But bird watching? How would that compare to the wild, fantastical adventures he was accustomed to? They were just birds for heaven’s sake! And his book? He would go mad if he had to wait six months to find out what
happened to Cliff. But maybe one of the kids would read it to him. That was a hopeful thought and if not that, maybe he could find the audiobook somewhere. His life looked a little less black with that silver thread of a thought.

  It wasn’t long after Sandra left, that he heard the light girly step of his granddaughter on the stairs. She was coming to take his books away. He tried hard not to think of her as the enemy, but it was rather difficult when she was coming to take away his best friends. She pushed open the door and walked in, lugging a box behind her.

  “Mom said she wants all the books taken out of here. Sorry about your eyes. Hope you don't lose them.”

  James tried to smile sweetly at her crude sympathy.

  The energetic teen soon had all the books in the box and was about to lug them out of the room when James ventured a question.

  “Mason, do think you could find time to read a book to me? I'm not allowed to read for quite some time but I was in the middle of a book.”

  Mason shrugged her shoulders, “Doubt I'll have time. Ask Zach. Might have more luck there.” and with that, she was gone.

  Before long the feeders were up and the birds were busy, and just as James suspected, he found them boring, even when he tried to be interested, and he said he really did try, though I’m not entirely convinced that’s true. Zachary had flat out refused to read to his grandfather on the logical grounds that, if it was a book old people enjoyed, he would probably fall asleep reading it. Kind grandson indeed. James was then forced to turn to audiobooks for amusement. But it just wasn’t the same. They were read wrong or were too costly. And even the good ones he felt were lacking something. That silver thread he had begun to stake so much on had snapped and now he was floundering in the dark again.

  —————

  About five weeks had passed since that fateful day. James had tried and failed with many various methods of activity over the past weeks and was feeling very discouraged. It was the end of another such dark and directionless day and James had spent a great deal of it writing a long and newsy letter to his brother-in-law, Afton Banks. Afton was the closest thing James had to a best friend since his beloved Carol had passed. However, even writing had been rather exhausting since Sandra had made him stop every fifteen minutes to rest his eyes for the same amount of time. In any case, he had gone up to his room right after dinner and had wearily prepared himself for bed. He then sat on his bed and gazed numbly out the window as the sun slowly sunk. His daughter was watering the tomatoes. His son-in-law Theo was cleaning the grill and chatting with Sandra. Zachary was at a movie with some of his buddies and Mason was sitting on the fence texting Gracie.