~Ghetto Bill~

Short Story

I wrote the following story for my English Literature class last semester. It may kind of be cheating using this as a post but i have nothing new to say and just like how the story turned out. I give it to you all to enjoy:

Blast From the Past

Monday had come too soon for Darrel. He woke with a jolt at six o’clock as his alarm buzzed. The throbbing headache he felt as he sat up from his resting spot on the living room couch came from a weekend of partying. Darrel promised himself he would not drink to get drunk anymore, but the birthday celebration that lasted the entire weekend seemed like a good time to break that rule just one more time. Standing up slowly, he drudged around the room looking for his shoes and jacket. After finding the misplaced clothes, he stepped outside into the cold November air to smoke a cigarette. The chill made his breathes even shorter as he quickly puffed the last of the cigarette. A long hot shower seemed like a great idea, so he hobbled his way up the staircase to the bathroom.

Darrel had walked with a limp for the past two years, and this decreased the speed with which he could get around. He had been in a severe car accident while driving impaired by alcohol and marijuana in his home town of Champagne, Illinois. A piece of metal pierced his right leg resulting in nerve damage, causing the limp he now walks with. While serving the jail time he received from the incident, Darrel decided to turn his life around. He knew that he would only get into more trouble if he continued to sell drugs for a living. He owed several people money in the drug rings but knew he could not afford to pay them back and had to leave to start a new life with a real job. Shortly after being released from jail, he moved to this house in Minneapolis with some of his old friends. They were willing to give a second chance and help him in finding a stable job. His friend Rick knew he had a passion for cooking and helped secure him a job at a restaurant downtown.

At seven o’clock, it was time to head out the door to catch a bus for work. Darrel grabbed his wheelchair and rolled to the corner. The limp was not severe enough to force him to use a wheelchair, but a reduced bus fair seemed like a great idea at the time. He sat shivering at the stop for a good ten minutes before the bus arrived to bring him downtown. It was eight by the time he rolled down Sixth Street to the front doors of the restaurant. Darrel was not scheduled to arrive at work until nine, but he always showed up at least an hour early. He had figured he had nothing better to do with his time anyway and work kept him out of trouble. Besides, cooking was the one thing that he loved and to him it was time well spent.

Darrel went through the customary routine of preparing some basic foods before the restaurant opened for the day. He was in charge of mashing all of the potatoes that would be used during lunch, as well as preparing the salad dressings for the dinner crowd. He was the most meticulous chef in the kitchen and always finished his list of chores before the others had finished half of theirs. He was content with his position in the restaurant and never anticipated the promotion he was about to receive that day.

The restaurant’s manager walked into the kitchen and scanned the area for Darrel. When he saw him by the fryers he yelled, “Darrel, can I get you to come into the office for a minute.” Darrel nodded and followed his manager Alex into the main office. Alex told Darrel how much he admired his commitment to his job and offered him the position of head chef on the staff. Dumfounded, Darrel could only mumble, “Ugh, yeah, I can handle that.” After Alex explained the new responsibilities to Darrel, he left the office feeling a great sense of pride. At 22, he would be the youngest head chef in the restaurants illustrious history. The rest of the shift seemed to fly by as the thoughts of being a head chef raced around in his head. Five o’clock came and he was free to go home and enjoy the rest of the day.

He did not use his wheelchair to get home; the promotion he received made him forget all of his slight pains. For the second time in less than a year he felt like a brand new man. When he walked up his porch steps and opened his front door, he yelled Rick’s name in hopes that Rick was home so he could share the great news with his buddy. Rick, though, was at class and the only person Darrel saw in the house was a thirty something old man sitting on the living room couch. The man had a rough beard and was wearing a leather overcoat with dark slacks. Darrel immediately said, “Ahh, who the hell are you?” The man replied. “My name is not important Darrel. What is important is that you owe my boss Victor a great sum of money.” Bewildered Darrel told the nameless man, “I have no idea what you are talking about man.” The man then exclaimed, “You know very well why I am here Darrel!” Darrel then realized exactly what that man had come to his house to do. Back in Illinois, he had seen dealers like himself get into deep shit when they did not pay the boss and Darrel knew he was in those same shoes at that very moment. He had all of two seconds to decide how he was going to approach this man who had come to collect the owed money. Darrel swiftly turned around on his heels and fled towards the front door. That is when the nameless man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the pistol that would drop Darrel dead in his tracks.


  1. 1 BigT says:

    Your roomate Darrel is dead? Who will pay his rent?

    Quote | Posted January 25, 2007, 12:58 am
  2. 2 Bryce Rausch says:

    sucks to be him. good story though. I didn’t realize you could write about anything but touching some guys’ sweaty hands in front of what you like to call “the tunnel”.

    Quote | Posted January 25, 2007, 8:41 am
  3. 3 m!les says:

    Is this autobiographical?

    Quote | Posted January 25, 2007, 2:28 pm
  4. 4 Chris S says:

    It’s amazing how he can get shot and then come back to cook again

    Quote | Posted January 29, 2007, 12:11 am
  5. 5 david says:

    Awsome story! That boss Victor guy is a dick!

    Quote | Posted January 29, 2007, 12:31 am

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