Calvin the Author’s Audiobooks Ep 2 Story Transcripts




Eternal Knight: Seizures

Urban Fantasy, Action Adventure, Magic, Comedy,

Okay, creepy old guy alert. I strike his wrist with the palm of my free hand and yank the other free from his grip.

“You’re kind of strange. You know that right?” I ask him.

“Heed my words lad. Prepare yourself.” He tells me straight faced.

“Okay, well yeah, I’ll do that.” I point at the door leading out of the break room. “But, I, uh, I’m gonna do it out there. Away from you.”

With that I open the door and leave as quickly and as manly as didn’t make me look like I was running out there like a girl. My heart didn’t stop pounding until I had unlocked the driver’s side door of my ’86 Cutlass P.O.S. and had my butt firmly planted in the seat with the door shut. I put the keys in the ignition, start the car, and try to put that crazy old bastard as far behind me as possible.

The power steering whines as I make a right out of the parking lot. The street lights wink in and out of my windshield marking the distance between me and him.
I’d like to say I felt better, but the old guy really freaked me out.

Nothing like a little self medication to cure what ails you. I fish the flask out of my pocket and twist the top off with my free hand while I drive with the other. Sure, that kind of maneuver took a lot of practice to pull off. Lucky for me I’ve led a life full of reasons to facilitate such practicing of those opportunities.

After getting the lid free I take a long, disgustingly amazing, swig out of it, closing my eyes to truly enjoy, and savor the flavor and burn. Problem with driving with your eyes closed is the loss of your sense of direction and my P.O.S. sort of pulls to the right. Needless to say there was honking involved which snapped my eyes open just in time for me to swerve back into my lane and miss a Toyota full size truck.

Thinking I’d just dodged a bullet I take a victory swig, only to have it interrupted by the blue and red disco lights of a city cop pulling me over. Figuring that today’s events had been eventful, and shitty enough, I decide to forgo the high speed chase and pull into an empty parking lot.

Lucky him, right?

It takes a minute for him to get out and make his way to my car. Probably calling it in. “Yes, dispatch we have a loser in a rust bucket all over the road.” I say mockingly.

“Roger that coppie guy make sure you make his life miserable.”

“Roger that dispatch.”

When the cop finally gets to my door I don’t even turn to look out at him. I can play power games too.

“License and registration, please.” Officer numb nuts demands of me.

“What seems to be the problem?” I ask unsuccessfully containing a laugh at his expense.

“License” He repeats firmly “and registration, Sir.”

I laugh again. When stuff slides downhill like it does in my life this little episode was just another day in the life of Max Powers.

“Oh, oh right, sorry about that Mister Officer. I didn’t hear ya the first time.” I lie to him.

The officer bends down and shines his flashlight into my car. “Sir, have you been drinking tonight?” He asks me.

“Nope.” I tell him fishing the registration out of my glove box. “I am, however, on some liquid medication that smells incredibly like bourbon.” I say handing him my license and the registration out the window. “I think I left my Doctors note in my other pants though. Could you just let me off with a warning?”

There was a pause and strangely the officer didn’t take my information.

“Max?” The officer asks.

Ah, shit. I knew that voice.

“Dez?” I ask.

“Damnit Max, are you out of your mind?” Dez asks me with a hint of anger in his voice.

Fair question. I’d have to say pretty damned close, actually. That wasn’t his business though. “No. Why?”

“You were almost involved in a head on collision. You reek like a brewery, and you’ve been laughing and disrespecting me since I pulled you over. That’s why.”

Smell like a brewery? That’s distillery to you pal.

“Really? I got nothing but love for you Dez.” I tell him and believe it or not it was true.

He paces and shakes his fist at his side. “Get out of the car Max.”

“Am I under arrest?” I ask him.
“Not yet, but I can’t let you drive like this, man. Now get out before I have to do something I’m trying to avoid.” He tells me. This time there was definitely anger.

I weigh my options. Finally I relent. Better to trust Dez than get arrested and lose my job.

I open the door and step out into the night. I stand still for a minute waiting to see if he’d get his cuffs out or not. He doesn’t.

“Get in the car foo’” Dez tells me letting a little of that ghetto out in himself.

Dez was a good 6’3” and skinny as tomato stake. Don’t’ let that fool you though, his body was made of muscles built from tension springs that could lash out with a speed and power that would have you waking up trying to remember if you saw him move or not. He grew up poor in a place where a person of color wasn’t always treated nicely. That’s what drove him to be a cop. He wasn’t going to let assholes like the ones that messed with him and his family mess with anyone else.

He points to the car and I start walking. He opens the back doors and waits for me to get inside.

I cock my head sideways and look over at him. “I can’t ride in the front?”

“You’re already drunk and acting like a damned fool Max, now get in there before I change my mind.” He tells me.

Fair enough. I guess, so I get in the car.

Dez shuts the door behind me then climbs in the front. “You’re really lucky we’re friends, Max.” Dez tells me picking up his radio and cueing his mic.

“Dispatch this is car thirty-two.”

“Go ahead thirty-two.” They respond.

“Suspect was emotionally distraught over family death. Issued a warning and asked her not to get back on the road until she was in control of herself.” Dez lies.

There was a pause. For a minute I didn’t think they’d buy it.

“Roger that thirty-two. Good man.”

“Thank you, thirty-two out.” Dez replies.

I can hear Dez mumble under his breath. I managed to make out “stupid white boy” and “if we hadn’t been brothers.” I felt bad. He’d always been good to me when I’d still been a detective. We’d spent a lot of time together, on and off the clock.

Dez turns his red and blues off and turns on his turn signal on as he turns right out of the parking lot towards my apartment. There’s silence inside the squad car and since my buzz was wearing off I didn’t have anything funny to say.

Dez, on the other hand, wasn’t hindered by a similar short coming and broke the silence first. “What happened Max? How did you from working as Police Detective to drunk idiot behind the wheel?”

I just sit behind the metal screen that separates us and tug at my sleeves. I’d never told him why I left. I hadn’t even said good-bye or called.

He waits for an answer, drumming impatiently on the steering wheel while he does. “I heard rumors man. I heard you developed some kind of seizures and they deemed you unfit for duty.”

I remembered. They sat me down after my second episode. The one where I let a suspect get away. It had been a drug dealer that I’d tracked back to his house. I surprised him there and he ran. I pursued him through the streets, into an alley, almost catching him. Then the seizure struck me, followed by one of those damned visions. Two days later that same drug dealer shot and kill one of our own. I was blamed for letting him get away. They pinned his murder on me.

I wasn’t arrest or tried, but the brass felt I was as guilty as I had pulled the trigger for not disclosing my condition to them.

I didn’t even know I had a condition.

“Is it true?” Dez says snapping me out of my day dream. “That you have seizures Max?” He asks me.

I didn’t want to tell him. It shamed me to admit I couldn’t always control myself. That I was some sort of cripple. I didn’t want his pity.

Like it or not though Dez has done me a solid tonight one of many too numerous to count and I felt like I owed him something.

“Yeah. It’s true.” I tell him looking into the floorboard.

Dez’s reply leaps out of his throat like a clap of thunder. “And your prideful ass just decided I wasn’t friend enough to know? Like this was the first secret I’d ever carried for your bull headed ass?”

I just sat there. It’s not like I could deny his anger. I’d have been mad, too, if he’d done it to me. Didn’t change anything though. Didn’t make it any less painful.

“Did I do something to make you think I wasn’t worth trustin’?” Dez ask.

“It wasn’t about trust.” I tell him.

“What then? Pride?”

“A little bit yeah.” I answer.

“What else then?” Dez demanded.

“They blamed me for Billy’s death Dez! I had a seizure and lost the guy who shot him. I thought you might blame me too.”

Dez was silent. Stunned silent as thought he was processing what I’d just told him for the first time.
Finally, he spoke in almost a whisper “I didn’t know. They never told us anything about it.”

I was completely caught off guard. “Nothing? They didn’t tell you guys why they fired me, without benefits?”

He shook his head and looked at me in the mirror.

“All they told us was that they had just cause and left it at that.”

I couldn’t believe it. They hung me out to dry and made me seem dirty. All those years of service and they completely disowned me over one of these damned seizures.

My anger must have been written all over my face, because Dez felt the need to try and make me feel better.

“It’s not your fault, man, you’ve got to know that.”

Of course it was my fault. It was my body wasn’t it? I’m supposed to have control of it, wasn’t I? If I was stronger. If I’d have paid more attention. Then maybe Billy would still be alive. I’d still have my job and Steph… Damnit all!

Dez pulls into my complex and parks in an empty spot. He opens my door and helps me out of the car. He steadies me then aims me at my apartment door.

“C’mon man, lets get you inside.” He tells me.

I don’t argue. At this point he knew just about everything so he might as well get the last of it. He helps me up the stairs by following behind me and making sure I didn’t tumble down them. We walk down the landing until we get to my door. I fumble for my keys, trying to stall more than anything else, before finally unlocking my door and going inside.

The place was trashed. Dirty laundry and half eaten junk food packages littered the furniture and floor. Dez lets out a whistle as he surveys the damage.
“Damn, son, you need me to fill out a report on a B and E?” He asks me.

Ah, humor, now he finds it.

“No.” I tell him. “I think if someone had broken in, it would look better than it does.”

“Steph lets you keep this place this dirty?” He asks.

I don’t answer him. I move one of my hoodies and a Ho-Ho wrapper so that he can sit down if he wants.

Then I head into the kitchen.

“Okay” he says with a quizzical look on his face. “You guys fighting or something?”

I wondered to myself if Dez thought the word personal in personal life meant ask a whole bunch of damned questions I didn’t want to answer. But, like I’d said he’d gotten most of the story so he might as well get it all.

“She left me.” I tell him.

“She left you?” He asks surpised. “Five years and she just left you?”

“Six, actually.” I correct him. “My seizures got worse and she couldn’t handle it.”
I take a bottle out of the cabinet and start pouring it into a medium sized fast food cup. What? It saves on dishes.

Dez lets out another whistle. I couldn’t decide if he was referring to Steph or the fast food cup. I decided not to speculate and just started drinking.

“You gonna be all right?” He asks.

I nod. “Yup. Pretty sure I can’t get a DUI on my couch.” I tell him walking back into the living room and cleaning off the couch.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Dez says under his breath following me back into the living room and sitting on the recliner I had cleaned off for him earlier.
I kill the rest of the glass after I finished cleaning off the couch. It didn’t take long for the new bourbon to find the old and they worked together to help me forget.

“Max, why didn’t you just call me?” Dez asks. “Why do this all alone?”

I shrug and lay down feeling the alcohol doing it’s job and making reality disappear. “Just figured you were another casualty in the shit storm that hit my life.”

Dez just shakes his head. “No buddy, I’m not. I’m pissed you didn’t trust me, but I’m still your friend.”

“Right. No.” I tell him indifferent.

My eyes were getting heavy.

“Do you think she’d have stayed if I was normal?” I ask him.

If he answered I didn’t hear him. My world was swallowed in darkness and I was enjoying the sweet sounds of nothingness.

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Calvin the Author’s Audiobooks ep 1. Story Transcripts

Eternal Knight: Seizures

Urban fantasy, action adventure, magic, comedy





Darkness isn’t so bad if you don’t expect the light. I liked being in the dark. Fewer disappointments if you can’t be seen. Fewer judgments if people can’t see what you’re up to.

“Max” The voice squawks through the cheap radio that was clipped to my shoulder. I ignore it, smiling, continuing to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Max,” it calls again through a broken signal. “I know your radio’s on, Max. I can see the light on the switchboard.”

I snarl and cuss as I snatch the radio off my shoulder firmly hold down the call button. Stupid technology. “I’m busy Janet, what in Christ’s name is so important?”

“There’s a drunk terrorizing the cafe court and Sam’s a little too old and too fat to take care of him.” Janet responds.

“Is the light from my radio broken?” Sam chimes in.

“Tell me I’m lying.” she retorts.

Those two needed to get a room and I needed not to think about that. “Alright. Fine. I’m on my way.” I spit into the radio before letting it go.

Stupid drunks. Don’t they know better than to wander into a mall and cause trouble?

Carefully, I put the lid back on my flask and tuck it safely into my back pocket before I pick my six foot-eight frame up off the over turned bucket I’ve been sitting on and open the broom closet door.

God I hate drunks.

My footsteps echo off the sandy colored linoleum as I make my way through the empty pastel painted halls past cell phone kiosks, brightly lit storefronts and vending machines towards the large group gathering in the cafe court.

Pushing through the crowd I can hear the deep grumblings of a man I can only hope is very large, mildly out of shape, and doesn’t have a glass jaw.

Breaking through the inner ring I see my prize and feel a little happy inside. The guy looked to be a little over six feet tall and two-fifty if he was a pound. His tattered flannel shirt and dirty jeans hang loose on his frame as he swings wildly at a couple of kids from one of the pizza shops. In his right hand he has a can of cheap beer and rest of him looked like he hadn’t bathed or showered this side of three days. Dude was a mess. If it hadn’t been for pesky things like laws I’d have lit him up right there, but the bills don’t pay themselves and I need this crappy job.

“Sir.” I say to him in my official voice. “ Sir, what seems to be the problem here?” I ask him as I walk into the clear the crowd had created around him.
“I wund dat soopid, sheeting, whore brought oud here now!” He slurs. “She gonna gets whas she’s gawt comin’d to ‘er!”
“While I feel that all cheating whores should get what they have coming to them.” I sympathize. “I believe that, that, particular description would include many of our shoppers and female employees, for whom I have been hired to protect. So I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”
I hear the inhaled hush of the crowd and realize that perhaps the couple of nips I’d had from my flask had caused me to overstate my point a bit. Best to change the subject before any questions were asked.
“So, I need you need to vacate the mall grounds, including, but not limited to, the building and the parking lot or I will have to forcibly remove you.” I say with as much power as I can muster. In the back of my head I’m begging this guy to put up a fight.
The drunk takes a stumble step then looks at me with a mean mug. “Wha, what did you jus’ say to me?”
I take a step closer and look the man in his eye. “It’s quite simple sir. Go home, sleep it off, and you just have to be embarrassed about being drunk in public. Or…” I raise a finger so he understands I’m making a point. “You can refuse to leave, I beat you unconscious, and you wake up in a jail cell embarrassed you were drunk and you got your ass kicked in public.”
“Why you little sawed off…” The drunk guy starts to cuss me.
“By law” I interrupt him. “I am required to tell you that I am thoroughly trained in self defense and have been given permission to use that training to remove you if necessary.”
“You ain’t shit.” The drunk guy at the end of a long silent and very disgusting burp. Then throws his beer can down and raises his fists.
Oh, thank you Lord.
I settle into a ready position and wait for him to throw the first punch. Pesky laws. I don’t have to wait long before I’m staring down the end of his arm as throws a haymaker so slow and telegraphed that I couldn’t tell if he was trying to hit me or hug me. I chose the former and raise my arm to block.
As the pressure of his arm bears down on mine there’s a flash of light and I lose sight of the drunken man. There’s another flash and I can see the drunk again this time his hand is drawn back for another blow. I shift my weight preparing to block again when I’m rocked by another flash. This time I can see bright green hills standing starkly in front of dark storm clouds. I can smell pungent aroma of dew covered grass mixed with dirt and campfires.
Oh God, not now.
There’s another flash of light and I’m back in the mall. The drunk man’s ham hock of a fist comes crashing down on my jaw, jarring my senses, streaks of red pain course through my head. I cover up my head and face and try to buy some time to counter.

Another flash of light and I can see the grass covered in droplets that shimmer by morning light. I can see smoke in the distance, but I can’t place it’s source. I sense fear all around. Fear and anticipation of something.

Again I’m rocked by a bright flash of light. As I open my blurry eyes I see that I’m on the floor. My back and head are aching like crazy. I can only imagine that I went down hard for one reason or another. I roll onto my side just in time to see the drunkards foot coming right at me. I clench and try to tuck, but I’m a little to slow as I feel his foot sinking into my stomach. The air wooshes out of my lungs through my teeth like I was an untied balloon. I’m treated to an astronomers dream as I watch stars dance before my eyes.
I want to fight back I want to stop this guy before he finishes with me and finds someone else. Putting that plan into motion, I right myself so I can push myself up on my feet. I’m woozy and sore, but on my worst day I know I can take this guy at his best.
Taking a step back I test my legs. They seem strong. I roll shoulders to see if there’s any kink in them. They work fine. Even my ribs and head seems to be clearing up. Maybe this guy didn’t hurt me as bad as I thought. Too bad for him I plan inflict a lot more pain on him than he’s managed, so far, on me.
Finding my opponent I know I need to end this quick. It’s been a long time since I’d had a seizure like this. I had almost hoped that I’d gotten better. Seeing my opening and put everything I have behind my right arm and swing for the fences.
Another flash of light.
I can see the grass again. I stare intently at the individual blades while waiting for another flash. Hoping for another ticket back to reality. It doesn’t come.

Realizing this is my new reality I begin looking around my new surroundings. The first thing I notice is that I’m not actually standing on the ground. I’m on a horse. Another look shows me that I’m not alone either. There seems to be thousands of men teaming around me, either on foot or on horseback. All of them dressed in armor covered with a shock white tunic embroidered with a crimson cross. My history is kinda rusty, but they kind of reminded me of the Templar Knights.

Slowly I start to raise my arms and examine the clothes the clothes that I have on in this crazy construct my mind gas made for me and to my surprise I also have the same gray chain mail with a shock white tunic.

Putting my arms down and looking around me I see spears, flags, archers, and squires. It’s a regular D and D round table minus the wizards and elves. In my mind, I know that this is only in my mind, but I have to be impressed with the level of detail my subconscious put together. I can see and smell everything. From the green on the grass and to the sweat on the horses.

I just can’t hear anything. The sounds I do hear come through muffled and indistinguishable as if my head were submerged in a bathtub. Moving my head back and forth I try to find a better angle so I can hear things more clearly. All I get is garbled junk.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and swivel my head to see it. In front of me I see a knight on a horse with wavy ravens colored hair as well as a beard. He looks angry as if he’s yelling at me, but I can’t make it out. I try to read his lips, I can feel that he’s trying to tell me something important, something I need to do. I can almost make it out.
There’s another flash of light and open my eyes. I’m lying on a bench in the faculty changing area. There’s the uncommon smell of sweat, dirt, and popcorn in the air. Someone must have gotten hungry on their last break.

My neck and back are still sore. As well as my shoulders which probably joined their ranks sometime after the last seizure/blackout.

I raise up off the bench, where I was placed, and take a look around. I didn’t see anyone. Loving bunch my co-workers turned out to be. They just left me here unconscious. Then again I really couldn’t blame them. It’s not like I had a wife or girlfriend to call. Sure, they could call my parents or family, if I had any. Then there’s that little insurance waiver I signed to get the job stating they weren’t liable for any injuries, lost personal items, or money related to any seizures I had while on the job. Gotta love capitalism.
I fish around in my back pocket and find the one true friend I can truly depend on. Opening the flask I take a big pull and let the bourbon warm my chest and the rest of my body. Nothing like that first burn to make a man feel alive. A couple more sips and I don’t even notice the soreness in my back or shoulders anymore.

I take another for good luck before safely tucking it away. I slowly right myself and head over to my locker. After opening it I put my radio on the top shelf and being unbuttoning my uniform shirt. Getting all of the buttons undone I pull out an empty hanger and hang up my uniform. I snatch my hoodie off the hook under my radio, a gray relic from the Rocky Balboa days and grab my keys before slamming the door. I turn to leave only to see a janitor pushing his cart through the gliding door.

He’s an older fellow, early fifties maybe, he has white hair as well as beard and is wearing a pair of dark gray coveralls with a name tag stitched tot he front that read “Jim”. He’s a big guy. He was probably as tall as me when he was younger, but age had taken a couple inches.

He eyes me for a second and smiles. “Finally awake are we?”

I scratch my head embarrassed. “Saw that did ya?”

“Yeah” he says picking up a spray bottle and rag. “Hard to miss really. You’ve got interesting technique when it comes to fighting.”

Oh good, this one’s a comedian.

“I have a medical condition.” I tell him.

He nods and sort of stares through me as he ponders what I said. “Well, in any case, you got him.”

My head jerks up in surprise. “I did?”

“Aye, you did.” The old janitor sprays the counter and starts wiping it off. “That last right you threw connected and you both went down. Cops came and grabbed the drunk. No one knew what to do with you so they just laid you down back here. Thought I’d check on ya. Make sure you didn’t swallow your tongue or somethin’”

Maybe he wasn’t such a bad old fart after all. “Not yet. I say with a smile. “Just a little sore. I appreciate you checking up on me though.” Extending my hand out towards him I ask “What was your name again?” Knowing damned well it’s on his shirt, but not wanting to be presumptuous.

The old man takes hold of my hand and points at his name tag. “Jim” is written in capitol, block letter stickers.

“Right. Thanks for checking up on me Jim.” I tell him and give his hand a firm shake.

When I was done shaking his hand and released my grip he still held his firm. Firm enough I winced a little, on the inside. I look back up to say something to him only to find the smile I had seen just a second before had been with a keen focus and seriousness.

“You take care of yourself lad. There are things coming for you lad, Things you’ve not seen the like of. Mayhap you get the answers you’ve been looking for, mayhap the price be steeper than you’d want to pay.”

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