Tuesday, August 6, 2019

Beyond the Fence by Sheldon Peart - Fun, Unique Cops and Robbers Saga!

Chappy was almost breathless. He tugged at the waist of his trousers. They were striped and baggy-looking and were already half way to his knees. He had made easy weather of Mr. Buddom’s booby traps. Now, the chain-link fence which loomed before him, would be the final challenge in his thirteen-minute obstacle course. He took three or four quick steps toward it and peered at the gaping hole in the fence. 
The heart-shaped opening must have been made by the goat and mango thieves, but it provided the perfect escape route. Mr. Buddom had given up on goat rearing out of frustration and had not even tried to mend the fence. Chappy smiled and lined up his body immediately in front of the heart-shaped savior. The rendezvous spot was less than a hundred yards away, but on the other side of the fence. 
Everyone in Sandy Valley had heard that Mr. Buddom’s fence was rigged, that he had vowed to electrocute the goat and mango thieves who had plagued his property for years. 
Only Chappy, the self-appointed electrical inspector, disputed the claim. He had insisted that ‘the set up’ couldn’t kill a fly and would trip at the slightest touch. 
Chappy moved closer to the fence, his face wrapped in unruffled sheets of concentration. He stopped and extended his arms as if he was sizing up his body with the hole, then retreated ten or twelve paces with his eyes fixed steadfastly on the opening. He sucked up a huge gulp of air, then rocked his torso backward and forward like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. 
Chappy was a mad man, a dare devil, some had said. His heroic and often death- defying exploits were well known and the posse brothers were sure he was more than a daredevil. He was a man possessed and perhaps, even the devil’s own son. This Monday night operation would depend almost entirely upon his wily skills and Chappy was cognizant of this. He also knew that he was already late for the all-important ‘pre-assault’ briefing and double checks. He pictured Johnny’s angry demeanor and hoped that with some luck, or even divine intervention, he could still make the rendezvous time. 
He flexed his rounded shoulders and took a long, deep breath, reminiscent of his spearfishing days. Porter was the first to spot him. 
“Chappy … No man, you crazy?” he yelled. “You must be a flipping mad man.” The words rang through the stillness of the midsummer evening and sped away with the cool breeze coming from the clump of bamboo trees in the distance. But Chappy didn’t seem to hear him, or had ignored him totally. His face lit up with his familiar dimpled smile. 
Three pairs of nervous eyes watched intently from the other side of the fence, as man and devil prepared to defy the odds and cheat the dreaded chain-link beast of its first victim.
“Him can’t do it,” whispered Porter.
“He going to do it,” screamed Johnny. “He do worse than that already and furthermore, tonight depend on him.” 
Charlie Boothan waived his hands frantically, as if to attract Chappy’s attention. “Don’t try it Chappy,” he shouted. 
“You damn fool?” Johnny was incensed. He pointed his fingers like a gun toward Charlie Boothan’s head. “Why the shit you want to stop him?” he asked forcefully. “Think I going to let one-man mash up the plan?” Johnny took two steps toward the fence, knotted his brows and gesticulated animatedly. “Do it Chappy and hurry up, we late already,” he shouted. 
“Don’t let him try it boss,” Porter pleaded. But Johnny’s cold stare quickly silenced him. “Chappy is a mad man. We just split if ‘im fry up,” said Johnny. The three watched in silence, interrupted only by the intermittent jangle from Charlie Boothan’s mandibles. 
Meanwhile, Chappy had sized up his thousand-eyed monster and was ready to pounce. His strategy was pretty obvious. He was going to fly through the opening at break-neck speed. But his calculations had to be perfect. There could be no allowance for the slightest error, especially considering his bulbous body. But did he even think of the huge bolder positioned on the other side of the opening, like a first division goal keeper? And was he truly convinced that the impact with the fence would cause the electrical circuit to trip? 
The tension was nerve-racking. Porter closed his eyes. Charlie Boothan drew closer to the fence, swallowing gulps of saliva as he moved. Johnny didn’t even twitch. The minutes were ticking and Chappy was his main man in the night’s operation. 
“Johnny, do something boss,’’ shouted Porter hysterically. “Is fry him going to fry.” 
Johnny took two steps closer to the fence and stood beside the terrified looking Charlie Boothan. He could barely see Chappy’s face. “Just jump through the flipping hole and come on, or I’ll break yu bloody neck” Johnny blasted. 
Charlie Boothan couldn’t contain his anger. He wasn’t going to sit by and allow Johnny to drive Chappy to his certain death. He spun around abruptly and was within inches of Johnny’s face, his eyes blinded with rage. “What the shit you doing?” he said furiously. “You not going to kill him and get away with it. Him is one of us.” 
Within seconds, Johnny was onto Charlie Boothan like a cobra. He grabbed him by his collar and with a vicious choke hold, squeezed half of his life through his now bulging eyes. 
“Who the shit you talking to boy? You forget who the freaking boss is?” He shoved Charlie Boothan with such force that he tumbled backward, hitting the ground, head first. He laid motionless. 
Johnny’s eyes popped open as spots of blood appeared on the underside of Charlie Boothan’s shirt. In a jiffy, the shirt was like blotting paper. Porter looked toward his seeming lifeless, bleeding body, rushed to Charlie Boothan and shook him violently, but he didn’t even twitch. 
“Is pure blood boss and him not moving. But you never have to do that. Now what you going to do?” 
Johnny quickly wiped the frightened look from his face and flashed Porter a mean grin. He could read his mind but wouldn’t back away now that the worst had happened. He spoke with the nonchalant air of a cigar-chewing cowboy. “I not doing a flipping thing, the boy get what him deserve. Him forget who the boss is. Jus’ bury him ... Him look like him dead ... but wait, ‘cause the other idiot might soon join him...”

Beyond the Fence

By Sheldon Peart

Back in the corner of the bar with Koffee blasting out her latest, the Invisible Posse were gathered to plan their next heist...

Johnny was an intelligent man, who worked hard--even if he was not too concerned about "what" he was working at. His posse were charmed by him and loyal, sitting listening as to what he had planned for next Monday. Then one by one they left the table, slinking into the corners and finally leaving as invisibly gone as they had come...

Everything was planned down to each detail and they were scheduled to meet to go as a group. Only Chappy, perhaps one of the most important men besides Johnny, was running late... He was moving fast, cutting every known corner to meet the guys, at least, on time...

Chappy had already made it through every hurdle Mr. Buddom had set up. He had at one time tried to keep thieves from stealing his goats and mangoes, but nothing had worked, and the worst was that a big hole in his fence had been made, even after he'd electrified the whole length.  Chappy had been involved and figured that there was not much to be concerned about, so when he was moving fast, he decided to head toward that hole in the fence and cut off minutes more...

He had it figured...he'd take a run and leap right through the middle of that hole...

When the team saw Chappy, they all yelled to him not to even try it...while Johnny, the Boss, had to take the opposite view in order for them to make their timeline...

Two of the Invisible Posse didn't make it...

And Johnny, to protect his leadership, called out to bury them...and left... But the two men were not buried that night...

In the meantime, Mr. Buddom's wife had a problem with their television--again... getting assistance of the right kind while her husband was heading out. The affair was not known...yet...but...but there was a murder in the bed that night and Sadie was afraid she might also be dead if she didn't keep quiet...

Ahhh, covering up murders is often harder than the killing, especially when those murders weren't planned, but came about through some type of mischief.

At the same time, Johnny starts questioning just how everything so well planned, just happened to go so terribly wrong... 

Peart gives us a trade-off between laughter and suspense as those who are guilty of various issues come up against...the law... Inspector Donovan Black leading!

With lots of sexual escapades, thieves hitting the rich communities around, and dead bodies taking everybody's attention... finally everything comes out into the open...and the town settles down so that the women can head to the hairdresser's to give and learn all the news! Enjoy the romp! Highly recommended!


Sheldon Peart is retired and lives in St. Ann, Jamaica, West Indies. His working career has allowed him to experience life from many different perspectives. But it is through his love for writing and story-telling that he finds his footing in society and fulfillment as a husband and father. An accomplished guitarist, Sheldon is married to Cavell. They have four adult children, two grandsons, Kaesen and Zane and two dogs, Sparkles and Champ.


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