By the Cold Clear Waters (Re-envisioned) - Writers Forum

cyberspecter · 02-13-2005, 01:34 PM

Hi again. I went back and made some big changes to the opener. I also rethought the character a bit. I am really considering changing Trevor Foote to John Prophit another character I have because of the undertones of what is going on with this character.
As always I appreciate any and all comments and suggestions.

-CS

Someone seeing Trevor Foote for the first time would never think he was different than any average person. They would never suspect that just six months ago, Trevor sat up suddenly in his hospital bed, with all the wires and tubes sticking out of him, and named the person that put him there. Without ever seeing that man, Trevor had given his description, where he lived, and where the weapon he used was.
But that was all in the past.
As Trevor walked down the street, he was wishing that he could tell the future as well. He was wishing he could reach out with his mind and twist reality to his desire. He only had one desire and for the tenth time in the last half a year, he was determined to fulfill it.
He got to the station and went inside. It was absolutely no trouble navigating the halls. The stairs were a breeze and he avoided bumping into desks this time.
The sounds of computer keys being pecked and voices intermingled with the ringing of phones. It was more like home than his quiet apartment would ever be.
"Hi, Sam," he said as he opened the door and stepped into Sam's office. He shut the door, went to the chair and sat down. "May I come in?"
"What now, Trev?" Sam asked. He voice carried mild amusement. That was a good sign.
"I want to come back to work."
"Trev..." Sam began. He sat back.
"No." Trevor stood up and leaned on the desk. "You have to let me come back, Sam. Did you see me come in?"
"You walked here, huh?"
"Yep and not one accident I might add."
"That doesn't prove anything." Sam sighed and picked up his...coffee cup. Yep it was definitely his coffee cup. "Tell officer Shaw to come in here will you."
Damn. Telephone. Ah well. It was a minor thing and no one knew. Small objects were still mostly guesswork.
The door opened and a woman walked in.
"Trevor Foote, I'd like you to meet officer Emily Shaw."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, mister Foote." She extended her hand. Trevor took it in his.
"Please call me Trevor," he said. She smells good, he thought.
"You can call me Emily."
"Ok," Sam said. "Here's the test."
Trevor frowned at Sam. This didn't sound good at all.
"Emily, slap Trevor."
"You want me to do what?"
"Go on. Slap him."
"It's ok." Trevor grinned at Emily. "Give it your best shot."
Emily just stood there. Sam was silent. The clock ticked thunderously.
"But Captain," Emily said very slowly. "He's blind."
"Am I?" Trevor said. He chuckled.
As if that were a signal, Emily swung her right hand at his face. He easily moved out of the way and caught her wrist. A tad clumsily, he thought, but I got it. He let go and turned to Sam.
"Wow," Sam said. "I'm impressed."
It was a nod. Trevor was positive. Sam had nodded his head at Emily. Had to be. He turned his head and ducked just barely in time to dodge another slap. He blocked the next one.
"Ok, that's good enough." Sam said.
Trevor smiled at Emily and sat down. Emily stood for a moment then seated herself as well.
"You aren't blind?"
"Yes and no," Trevor said.
"Trevor is somewhat unique," Sam said.
"I passed your little test, Sam. Are you happy?"
"What color is her hair,?" Sam's voice was just above a whisper.
Damn. Damn it all to hell.
"That's not fair."
Emily's gaze went to Sam, back to Trevor, then to Sam again.
"What's this about?"
"It's nothing, Shaw," Sam said. "You can go now."
"Very well, Captain."
Trevor pounded on the desk hard enough to shift most of the contents.
"Damn it, Sam. That was a cheap shot."
"I had to do it, Trev. I'm sorry."
"Shit."
Sam stood up, walked around the desk to stand near Trevor. He was wearing Old Spice cologne. The scent was not overpowering but rather it was familiar, comforting.
"We go back a long way," Sam said softly. "What do you want me to do? I can't hire you and put you on a desk. You weren't a good typist when you could see."
"There's got be a way," Trevor said. "I have fourteen years of hard earned experience. That has to count for something."
"You were a good cop. But all those years taught you how to...what? Read people? Look for clues? See past the obvious? You catching all these key words?"
"Fuck you."
"Trev," Sam said Something was different in his voice. Maybe awe? "There is that thing you do."
"What?" Trevor snorted. "You've already made it clear that it isn't enough."
"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the other thing. You know. The...thing."
"Wow, you really have a way with words."
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Yes, but that's not an option."
"Look," Sam said. Now his tone was eager. "You asked a minute ago what would it take."
"Well I'll be damned," Trevor said as realization dawned. "You had this all planned out. All this 'test' nonsense was a sham."
"Not entirely. We felt that you needed to see how hopeless it was."
"We? As in more than you?"
"Me, the commissioner, the mayor."
"What's this really about, Sam?"
"I can't tell you unless you agree."
"You know this...this curse gives me migraines right?"
"Yes."
"You ever have a migraine, Sam?"
"Nope."
"So, if I do this thing, then I'm back?"
"Not officially as a cop. More like a consultant to the department." Sam didn't give Trevor a chance to interrupt. "It would be like you were a cop. You'd have full disclosure."
"This really sucks, Sam."
"You'd be working again."
"Shit."
"I'll take that as a yes," Sam said.
Trevor could feel, almost hear, Sam smile.
"Fine, when do I start?"
"Tomorrow. I'll put a rush on the paperwork."
"Then you tell me what's going on?"
"Agreed."
* * * *

Emily was standing just outside the office waiting for Trevor. She was holding something... a helmet.
"Hello again," she said. She dropped the helmet.
Trevor caught it in mid-air. He laughed as he handed it back to her.
"Got you stumped, don't I?"
"Yes."
He took off his sunglasses. He heard the sharp intake of breath. He sensed her hand going to her breast. She even stepped back like most people do when they see for the first time that he had no eyes. Just empty sockets.
He replaced his sunglasses and started to step around her.
"I know it's none of my business," she said. "But..."
"How do I do it?"
"Yes."
"Haven't a clue." He tapped his temple with his index finger. "Something got re-wired in here when I was shot on the job."
"But," she said hesitating slightly. "Your eyes. What happened to them?"
"The guy that shot me," He pointed to a faint scar just above his right eyebrow. He knew exactly the location, though it had happened five years ago. "Took them as souvenirs."
"That's really sick."
Trevor nodded. It's like a broken record, he thought. He'd had this same conversation a hundred times since he woke from his coma suddenly, after two years.
"Want to know something really strange?"
"You mean stranger than having someone steal your eyes?"
"I can still feel them there. The doctor says it's like what some amputees go through. Phantom limb syndrome or something like that.
"But I don't know. I think there's more to it than that. I think it's connected to what I'm able to do. Does that make any sense?"
"You mean being able to see?"
"No, this is something more. It comes from somewhere darker I think."
Trevor shook his head as if waking up from a dream. He tried to smile, but it felt false to him. "Look, I was just babbling. Trying to impress you or something I guess. Forget what I said huh?"
She just stood there. He wished he could see her. Then again, he thought, maybe not. Not if she was looking at him like he was the main attraction in the freak show. On the other hand she could be waiting on you, dummy, he thought. Ah hell. Never get anywhere if you don't ask.
"You want to get a drink?"
"Ok," she said. "But don't think you are off the hook with that lame explanation."
They stood there a moment, each waiting on the other to move first.
"Tell you what," Trevor said grinning. "I'll let you drive."
She stood there for a moment, then burst out in laughter.

Aevin · 02-13-2005, 06:00 PM

Cool ... I read your first draft of this, and this is definitely an improvement. First of all, the way you opened it was far superior to your first draft. You did an excellent job of creating a "hook" to catch readers immediately--it worked for me. Your use of dialog is also top-notch--there are only a few places it got confusing, near the end of the exchange between Sam and Trev, and in the exchange with Emily. You might watch out for places where putting in an extra tag will clarify things. I also liked some of the humor--I think it was new--in the scene with Sam and Trev. You progressed the plot much more nicely. Most of your errors are minor ones, misplaced commas and the such. A great improvement. Keep working on it, and I'm sure you can make it even better.

--Aevin

Ilan Bouchard · 02-13-2005, 06:39 PM

Yep, I was hooked as well. I thought it was well written too, only a few places that didn't make sense to me. The biggest was the part where Sam looks at his coffee mug. Not sure what that was about.
In either case, if there's more, please post it. I wanna read it.

Aevin · 02-13-2005, 06:49 PM

I think Trev was looking at Sam's mug, and the repetition was meant to emphasize the difficulty for Trev in identifying such a simple object.

cyberspecter · 02-13-2005, 07:25 PM

Hi guys! Thanks so much for giving this a look see. I was trying to do exactly that with the coffee cup. I will, on rewrite, try to make that clearer.
I wanted to firm up the opening to this story before moving on. I have a general outline, for mystery I think it's essential. But as yet no other chapters exist. I hope to have a couple of good chapters by the middle of next month.
We'll see.

Thanks again for your responses. I, of course, will be looking for your stuff and giving what little advice and input I feel I'm qualified to give.

CS