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Short Story / Gone, Gone (Analysis)
Gone
January 24th, 2030 – 8:45 PM
Pulling their suits on, the firefighters had no way of telling the severity of the disaster. The dispatcher had explained the fire as “Building fire within Velcon.” but that meant little in terms of range and force of the flames. Nevertheless, the band of four piled into the cargo area of the truck and sped through the open doors of the fire house. Seconds passed before the driver turned the sirens on full and the speed of the truck picked up. They barreled around turn after turn bypassing pulled over cars until they reached the last stretch of road before Velcon. The red paint nearly slipped off the engine as it swerved into the parking lot of the prestigious laboratory facility taking no time to stall. Four heads looked through undersized windows making time-tested assumptions of the probability of death. Due to the black smoke exuding through the windows, they each concurred, with a nod, that they had little time to react.
The doors were sealed with a retina scan, the latest innovation to building security, which the firefighters had no time to use. Instead, one took the worn axe from the hooks on the truck and slammed its head through the bullet-proof glass. Inside, the smoke danced its fatal steps luring the officers into a trancelike walk. They jumped up the stairs, raced down the halls, and avoided the falling pieces of debris all while looking for room 306. The two hundreds flew past their visors and the three hundreds came closer as they reached the third floor. Six doors down they found the room where the scientist was supposedly hiding.
Inside though, there was no man.
The flames licked the walls and sparks spackled the ceiling creating a colorful montage. They looked under what was left of the desk and behind the charred chair but still found no sign of life. With one last glance at a decaying machine, they shut the door and raced back down the stairs to the foundation.
Outside, three more trucks had joined in the effort, spraying gallons of water onto the crackling blaze. The front man of the pack lifted his visor and let out a cough before being patted on the shoulder by a man in a suit. He peered through his thick rimmed glasses and put on a half smirk as he asked, ‘Did you find him?’
‘No. Just a machine and a desk,’ he replied cordially.
‘A machine?’
‘Yes. A machine.’
His baffled expression left no room for words. In the silence, the firefighter walked away with his three comrades in pull.
There was nothing more they could do.
Gone
January 24th, 2030 – 8:15 PM
As the wrench gripped the curves of the final bolt, Frank Cantone allowed a smile to replace the emotionless expression sprinkling his face. It curled in a grandiose manner, as if to say that he was entering the finest moment of his life. Beside him, Kevin Garrity, his partner, couldn’t help but mimic Cantone’s facial features. ‘That’s the end, yes?’
Stepping back, Cantone put the question in his pocket for a rainy day. His eyes slowly moved up and down the steel monstrosity admiring the handiwork put into its creation. The legs, as thick as large tree trunks, had been hand curled with his own fingers and tools to create a roof-like structure over the machine. The base, obviously welded with expertise, secured the entire apparatus in a reassuring manner. Just on top of the base, the control box, which he had wired himself, sat idle with buttons untouched. For another second he acknowledged his accomplishment allowing the smile to remain. Finally, ‘Are you ready?’
‘I’m not the one to be ready,’ Kevin answered.
Cantone glanced away from the machine for the first time and looked into Garrity’s eyes. They were a stark hazel reminding him of Kenny Trumas’s muddy irises. As he continued to look over his friend he couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the man he loved and the man he hated. Their height seemed to match, their grin seemed to be equal, and the way they held themselves seemed to be identical. Cantone blinked a few times remembering the day he had the epiphany. All at once, his senses began to give out, one by one, falling victim to his polluted mind. Instead of room 306, Cantone’s mind brought him to his office in Building One behind the desk he had learned to hate.
<
Frank Cantone yawned as he slid his blue BiC pen into its holster. Following it, his planner and journal found their place inside the confines of his bag making themselves cozy beside a dark blue lunch box. He closed the flap and leaned back in his chair glancing casually at the clock. Five minutes past six. Like an alarm, he could hear his wife Linda’s voice beeping in and out of his ear reminding him that he had fifty five minutes before dinner was served. With the forty five minute drive he had ahead of him (forty five on a good day) and the fact that he couldn’t break another promise to Linda, Cantone reached to the floor and lifted his bag. As he stood, he took one last glance around the room stopping on a face peering around the corner of his door. Muddy brown eyes hid behind thick black rims showing off the confident face of Kenny Trumas. His signature smile created deep dimples in his cheeks giving him the look of a late sixties game show host. ‘Frank,’ he started with his cigarette-induced voice, ‘glad I caught you.’
‘Kenny. Hey. Was just heading home actually.’
‘Figured that was a safe bet.’ He paused a minute to gather his thoughts while keeping his grin steady and his dimples smooth. ‘Could I get a second?’
‘Just a second, yes. No more though, Linda’s making lasagna tonight.’
With a nod, ‘Good choice,’ he stepped into the office with a stack of manila folders tucked under his arm. ‘Any chance you have time to fill out a few extra papers?’
Frank didn’t seem shocked by the question but rather perturbed that he was the poor soul being tortured with such an arduous task. Especially while on curfew. Nevertheless, there was no sense in saying no to a man with power like Kenny. Within Velcon there were three separate tiers of managers, Kenny being on the second tier. Above him sat Mr. Velcon himself, a rich man who had bought the company from Frank’s grandfather’s hands fifteen years earlier. In sum, saying no to Trumas most nearly meant signing your resignation letter. Instead, negotiating was your key source of freedom. ‘I already finished my paperwork for today. The Hughes-Bradley project is tied up.’
‘Very good. I knew you were efficient. That’s why I’ve decided that you would be best to handle the Laboe case as well.’ His grin faded slightly while retaining its overall shine. To Frank though, it was the lighting that made it look so bright.
‘That’s Henderson’s case.’
‘It was, yes. Mr. Velcon decided to promote Henderson earlier today though, he took Oliver’s seat in corporate.’
Cantone refrained from lunging over his desk and instead pretended that he wasn’t interested in a promotion. He looked at the clock again hoping that it would dissipate the brewing storm. Ten past six. ‘It could take an hour.’
‘It must be done though,’ his smile faded even more, this time causing his dimples to change into stretch marks, ‘we have a deadline to meet.’
‘But –‘ he bit his tongue and ceased the argument. The look in Kenny’s eyes, those magnified muddy eyes, was growing more and more corrupt with the passing seconds. It wasn’t worth fighting over. Nothing was worth it. ‘I can do it.’
The dimples returned bringing forth the deep lines in his cheeks once again, ‘You don’t know what this means to us.’ Happily, Trumas placed the stack of folders onto the desk without a word of fuss. He was happy to release his load and after doing so he made sure he didn’t linger long enough to hear a response. Cantone sighed as he looked at the pile and found his blue BiC.
He prayed Linda would understand.
>>FF
Linda never could understand why he put up with such maltreatment in the office. In fact, she was the one persuading Frank to leave the company and find a new job. Nevertheless, Cantone had stayed due to loyalty and the fact that his grandfather was once a man of power. In his mind, there was always a chance that his stormy days would clear and the blue skies would reappear.
As he delivered the news to Linda he received the response he was praying against. She protested against it, belittled his decisions, and made sure Frank knew he was making mistakes. The call ended abruptly with a sharp pain in Cantone’s ear followed by a ringing silence coming through the other side.
It would be that ringing silence that brought him to his decision.
Cantone shook off the images and looked back at Kevin dully. ‘Yeah?’
‘You ok?’
‘Yeah, why?’
Garrity came into focus again and this time hardly looked like Trumas. ‘I thought I lost you for a minute. Close your mouth, we got stuff to do.’
Cantone did as he requested and turned away from his friend again. His eyes found the control box and focused intently on the knob and switches. He had decided that for everything to work properly, he would only need two switches and a knob for optimal performance. ‘You know how to work it, right?’
‘Of course.’
Cantone nodded and took in a heavy breath. He wanted a cigarette. It didn’t matter that he didn’t smoke; the fact that it was something he had never done made him want to do it. He wanted to play the guitar too, and the violin, and he wanted to run in a marathon. Everything he could think of, he wanted to do it all before Kevin flicked the last switch. Perhaps it was nerves, or the idea that not all experiments go as planned. Either way, he thought back to the pioneers of it all. Jacobson, Delia, and Plomb each had success so why couldn’t he?
‘Are you ready Frank?’ Garrity asked again.
Cantone let the silence overtake the air as he looked back at the monstrosity. Pounds of twisted steel formed into one idea. As his thoughts raced from good to bad, they stopped on Linda showing her long brunette strands and her sky blue eyes. He could see her dancing at their high school prom whispering promises in his ear. In a dash of excitement, Cantone walked in the mouth of the machine and faced outward toward Garrity. It was time to make his life right. ‘Ready.’
‘You remember the deal, yes?’
‘Of course. Don’t you worry about yourself.’
Garrity grinned, ‘Hardly.’
With the reassurance he needed, Kevin Garrity approached the control panel with slow steps. He turned the first knob with a shaking hand and stopped when the LED panel read 2015. Looking inside, he winked to Frank, ‘This is it.’ Frank nodded again and bit his teeth together. With hope in mind, Kevin flicked the first of two switches and stepped backward. Crackling filled the air before a sudden flash exploded within the confines of the machine. From the thick poles, ten thousand volts of electricity bounced in and out of Frank’s body until there was nothing left. Garrity watched with mixed emotion in his face while the electricity trickled off. ‘Frank?’
Silence was his answer. With hopes high and success in his future, Kevin flicked the second switch on the panel. A counter starting at three replaced the former message on the LED board. As it counted down, Garrity shut his eyes and prayed for the last time.
After three seconds, the explosion came. Flames encased the room pushing their weight on weak pieces of floor. Garrity’s body disintegrated completely before mixing in with the scraps of falling steel.
Just as Cantone had planned, things were underway.
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superkleric reviewed Version 2 -
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DCAllen reviewed Version 2 -
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The action moves quite well in the first few paragraphs. OK, you’ve cut out a lot of the first part. Now the second part is much, much longer than the first. These parts need to be balanced.
Proofreading notes:
Velcon.” but (replace period with comma)
The red paint slipping off the truck is a bit too much.
decaying machine (I’m not sure that “decay” is the right word.)
for a rainy day (cliché – I’d change this unless you are going for satire.)
fifty five minutes . . . forty five = fifty-five . . . forty-five
project is tied up (Do you mean wrapped up?)
ready Frank?’ = ready, Frank?’ (address)
sky blue eyes = sky-blue eyes (prenominal compound modifier)
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katirra reviewed Version 2 -
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Overall, I liked this piece. The opening was engaging and when the firefighters found nothing I was intrigued. One critique I had was the story is a bit confusing at times. For example, on page 7, after the flashback, it took me a moment to figure out that story was back to Frank & Kevin. Also, it was unclear that it was Frank that was in the time machine (I am guessing it was a time machine). I think this is a good start but could benefit from some added details to help clarify the story.
samfreely reviewed Version 2 -
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I’m not exactly sure what is happeneing and that may be a good thing for this piece. I get that he built a time machine, but I feel like I’m missing half the story. Like why he built it? What was the purpose for him to go back to 2015? I thought your execution was great, but still have these questions that seem to be unanswered. This seems like it could be expanded upon.
“The two hundreds flew past their visors and the three hundreds came closer as they reached the third floor. ”- I’m not familiar with fire fighter operations, what does this mean? Are you refering to the suite numbers of the building?
Either way, fiarly decent. So keep at it.
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