Hello,
The story is currently under construction.
That's what happens when you want to write so eagerly but haven't plotted the whole thing yet.
Or actually, I did plot it, but did a bad job and got stuck, repeating myself over and over again.
And who wants a boring story? I sure don't.
Sooooo, I hope to be updating soon. But it might take some time. But rest assured that there WILL be a story again at some point.
I'm adding the chapters one by one again.
In the meantime, maybe check out my other A-team stories and let me know what you think!
Cheers!
Robin
-May 2019
Chapter 1: Something is Brooding
It was early in the morning.
The sun was steadily climbing its way up the skyline of Los Angeles that was still coated with the typical West-coast marine layer. Outside, a cool breeze promised another nice and sunny Californian spring day.
All was calm at the V.A. Hospital… or at least it had been for the last past hour. Grateful for the peaceful moment, the orderlies and nurses quietly performed their morning routines. Some were preparing the medication trays and others were generally making sure that every patient was tended to.
Not much had happened yet if you didn't count the random incident in the mess hall during breakfast when one of the veterans leaped onto a table and started acting like a chicken. After his third cock-a-doodle-doo and the pretense of having laid an egg (despite the fact that one could argue if a rooster was capable of doing that in the first place), the orderlies decided it was time to take the rioter back to his room. Fortunately for them, the patient didn't make much fuss (if you ignored the disgruntled clucks), and simply followed them into his private room without another squawk. A straightjacket didn't seem to be necessary this time.
Soon after, everything was calm again and the rest of the morning carried on in an almost mundane fashion.
Yet… something was brooding.
Murdock sat on top of his cabinet with his legs dangling lazily over the edge. One foot, however, jumped nervously as he stared at his hands with a worried frown on his face. He flexed his long fingers repeatedly as if to make sure they were still obeying his commands. When that didn't seem to satisfy him, he gave his hands a wild shake before stretching and holding them at eye level.
"Bugger…" Murdock muttered as he let his arms fall to his side before jumping off the cabinet.
He adjusted his now lopsided cap with a thoughtful expression.
"What d'ya think, Pete?" The crazy pilot finally said. "Ya reckon it will stop soon?"
There was a small pause before a raspy answer filled the room.
"I guess it depends on the way you look at it..."
"Whaddayamean?" Murdock cocked his head at the speaker expectantly.
"Well, like good old Geoffrey Chaucer once said," the voice croaked, "All good things must come to an end".
Murdock shook his head at the disappointing answer.
"Oh come on! That's not even a tiny bit helpful..." he sounded disgruntled. "And I'm not sure 'this'," he flapped his hands above his head as if trying to shake something off, "is actually a good thing."
"The end, in the end, is just a point in time in which things come to a halt," Pete continued his babbling without even taking note of Murdock's brief interruption.
The pilot glanced irritably at the speaker.
"And every new beginning comes from other beginnings end*" Pete babbled on.
Frowning, Murdock opened his mouth in an attempt to get a word in edgewise but suddenly found the speaker facing him with an intense glare.
"You're going to face a trial, Murdock," Pete said in a low voice. "And mark my words, it 'will' be the beginning of the end… Your end"
The last words were spoken with a slight menace, though the pilot chose to ignore it.
"Pete! If I wanted a philosophical point of view, I could've read Dr. Seuss instead!" he grumbled while unconsciously wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
He felt warm and started to feel uncharacteristically testy.
Pete let out a long and high-pitched cackle that made Murdock's neck hair stand on end.
"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple**…," he countered. "But I guess you're going to find out soon anyway. Like REAL soon..."
Murdock rolled his eyes.
"And they call ME a nutjob…," he muttered, shrugging off the pesky feeling of foreboding while checking his watch.
"Uhoh...", he groaned as he noticed the time.
Soon couldn't come fast enough! Face was picking him up in less than ten minutes and it didn't look like he had time to handle any trials right now. Suddenly feeling very hot, Murdock stripped off his green-and-black plaid shirt. Hastily folding it into a ball, he knelt down beside his bed and reached for the pre-packed duffle bag underneath.
The pilot heard a chuckle close by as his clumsy hands tried to open the bag.
His long fingers were 'so' annoyingly uncoordinated that something as easy as pulling a zipper seemed like an enterprise on its own. But the pilot didn't let it get to him. He managed to open the bag with a cheerful whoop before finding out that his struggle wasn't over yet. While cramming his shirt inside, he pushed out some of the bag's other contents.
The pilot helplessly watched his slinky, comic books, shaving supplies, and toothbrush running amok over the floor.
"Oh no! Come back here!" Murdock cried, seeing the latter cheekily disappear into the dark shadows of his bed.
The pilot heaved a frustrated sigh. Sitting on his knees, he quickly gathered his belongings and returned them to the bag. Then he lowered himself onto his stomach to reach under the bed. Wondering about the importance of owning a toothbrush in the first place, his hand reluctantly moved around the darkness in search of the pesky runaway. He was about to give up when he remembered his scary dentist visits and decided it was definitely worth preventing an increase of these mandatory appointments.
A grin spread across his face as his clumsy hand finally closed around the thin plastic handle.
"Gotcha!" Murdock said while getting back up his knees. "Now don't do that again," he warned the object in his hands.
But his triumph didn't last long as he regarded the state of the thing.
"Ah hell...Dust bunnies...," Murdock moaned. "I fear I've never really acquired a taste for 'm..."
Pete snickered.
"It's a curious thing," he mused from his position on the pilot's bed. "How the dust of everyday's life is clinging to such a mundane cleaning device as a toothbrush."
"Owwww hush you!" Murdock said sharply while getting back to his feet.
Turning around, to face his visitor, he added: "You know, I thought you were gonna help me with my problem but so far you've been mighty useless."
"Well...," Pete replied, sounding rather indignant, "what did you expect from a talking parakeet, and an imaginary one at that…!?"
Murdock glared at the bird but said nothing. It was kinda hard to come up with a good comeback when your own imagination was making a valid point.
With the toothbrush still clenched in his shaking hand, he made his way to the sink and rinsed it under a cool stream of water.
So far, this promised to be an interesting day, and he wasn't sure whether he was looking forward to it or not. But there was no time to give it much thought because he really needed to start his performance about now.
Putting the toothbrush in the back pocket of his pants, the lanky man climbed on top of his dresser again. Worries forgotten, he cleared his throat, flapped his arms, and for the second time that morning, started his well-rehearsed cock-a-doodle-doo's.
TBC
* Seneca the younger - Roman philosopher
** Of course, a quote from Dr. Seuss
