S
Shamus The Brute
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Chapter One - Where the Sidewalk Ends
The propeller of the Cessna 206 floatplane completed a few (half) rotation turns and then spat and gurgled in such a way which was quite unorthodox considering that a successful landing had just occurred.
The commotion, strange as it were, prompted Thomas to look back over his shoulder as the pilot of the floatboat waved one last time towards his direction and then proceeded to manuever the plane opposite the shoreline to where Thomas stood. Standing motionless, Thomas watched as the floatplane's landing gear lifted steadily off the surface of the water and then up into the sky, a departure of which represented the end of "civilization" itself for Thomas.
To be sure, this trip was the most rugged experience Thomas had ever experienced. His travels in the past included only a few weekend excursions to Chicago along with half dozen trips made to three neighboring states on the mainland. By all accounts, Thomas was not an outdoorsman. Nature (by it's general definition to him), meant only a visit to the local zoo or city park. What had made matters worse for him is that since he first accepted the invitation to partake on this venture, Thomas' mind had been lingering all the while on the thought of being attacked out in the open by spying eagles, wild moose, and starved-crazed bears. Such thoughts had crept back within the recesses of his mind as he began to walk cautiously now with a heightened sense of paranoia. As he slowly made his way opposite the direction of the shoreline and lake, Thomas resorted to the fact that he must have gone crazy for the idea of accepting Mr. Own's invitation to visit Alaska.
A worn path, which did reveal itself, deceived Thomas at first as it appeared suitable for hiking. However, it's true ruggedness became more apparent with each stride that he took.
"Ugh," Thomas spoke out loud to himself, frustrated. "You would have thought with guests arriving that they would've hired a valet or rolled out the red carpet!"
As he reflected upon this for a moment, Thomas thought back to the invitiation he had received in the mail five weeks earlier and how the pilot of the floatplane today mentioned that Mr. Own's estate remains the only man-made structure erected on the entire property of Indian Island. Disgusted that he had agreed to place himself into such a remote environment, Thomas stomped down -hard- with his foot on a rock blanketed with moss which nearly caused himself to lose his balance and slip.
"Stupid frickin' rock! Can't you see I'm walking here?" Thomas spoke. As he looked down patiently waiting for the rock to explain itself, in a matter of self-righteousness Thomas dropped quickly the items he was carrying and picked up the rock and flung it towards a group of pines to the left of where he was standing.
As a matter of sabotage, it was not as if the rock itself was to blame. Earlier that day, Indian Island received a brief shower to where the rain droplets had saturated everything onsite with a light covering. The Italian black, leather shoes that Thomas was wearing did not particularly help his circumstance. As Thomas proceeded to pick up his belongings again to continue further down the path that he began to resent, the mud which was caked on the bottom of his loafers the entire time let down their guard and made an attempt to enjoy the "ride."
End of Chapter One
--------------------------------------------------
Chapter Two - The Waiting Game
"Everyone? Your attention please," the hired maid formally declared. "Once the last guest arrives, each of you will be shown suitable lodging and accommodations. Until then, your belongings may be left here and you are invited in the meantime to retire to the entertainment or billiard room."
Upon hearing of this direction, three out of the seven guests sat looking at each other while the other four randomly stood up anticipating a change of scenery from what they have seen so far on the estate grounds.
"Now, if you will follow my lead please, I will ..."
(KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK)
The rapping at the door interrupted the maid mid-sentence as well as her current train of thought. "Oh dear! That must be the arrival of number eight! If you will kindly excuse me please," she announced and scuttled off towards the direction of the foyer.
With almost the same amount of fervor the maid devoted towards her responsibilities, the four guests whom had stood up from their seats earlier reacted about as hastily and parked themselves right back down again in a way which looked deliberate but unassuming.
Unfortunately, by the time the maid had excused herself from the estate's library/study (the place where the rest of the guests were corralled), when she finally reached the front of the estate where the foyer was located the hired butler had already taken possession of the bag and gear that Thomas had brought along as he had finally arrived.
"Well, well, well..." Thomas spoke brushing off droplets of moisture away from the sleeves of his overcoat. "I cannot begin to tell you how enjoyable the journey was for me in arriving here," Thomas spoke in a snide form of tone. Without waiting to be invited, Thomas walked directly past the butler and crossed the estate's threshold and into the foyer.
"Your coat, sir?"
Without acknowledging him, Thomas shed off his coat and immediately focused his gaze upwards at the sizeable log-beams which supported the A-frame structure/architecture of at least one-half of the estate mansion.
"Good day sir, and welcome to Mr. Own's estate," the maid spoke up signifying her presence in a way which was positive but, also at the same time versed as she had to declare the statement throughout the day and at least seven other times.
"Hello. I am Thomas. Mr. Own invited me today for this little get-together he is having."
"Sir, if you please. I'll lead you towards the library/study room where the other guests have gathered," the butler interjected walking with Thomas' bag and gear towards the direction of the estate the maid had escaped from.
As Thomas stepped forward, he paused for a brief moment and without hesitation kicked off the right and then left Italian loafer shoes he had purchased just last month (indistinguishable now because of an encounter with Alaskan mud).
End of Chapter Two
Chapter One - Where the Sidewalk Ends
The propeller of the Cessna 206 floatplane completed a few (half) rotation turns and then spat and gurgled in such a way which was quite unorthodox considering that a successful landing had just occurred.
The commotion, strange as it were, prompted Thomas to look back over his shoulder as the pilot of the floatboat waved one last time towards his direction and then proceeded to manuever the plane opposite the shoreline to where Thomas stood. Standing motionless, Thomas watched as the floatplane's landing gear lifted steadily off the surface of the water and then up into the sky, a departure of which represented the end of "civilization" itself for Thomas.
To be sure, this trip was the most rugged experience Thomas had ever experienced. His travels in the past included only a few weekend excursions to Chicago along with half dozen trips made to three neighboring states on the mainland. By all accounts, Thomas was not an outdoorsman. Nature (by it's general definition to him), meant only a visit to the local zoo or city park. What had made matters worse for him is that since he first accepted the invitation to partake on this venture, Thomas' mind had been lingering all the while on the thought of being attacked out in the open by spying eagles, wild moose, and starved-crazed bears. Such thoughts had crept back within the recesses of his mind as he began to walk cautiously now with a heightened sense of paranoia. As he slowly made his way opposite the direction of the shoreline and lake, Thomas resorted to the fact that he must have gone crazy for the idea of accepting Mr. Own's invitation to visit Alaska.
A worn path, which did reveal itself, deceived Thomas at first as it appeared suitable for hiking. However, it's true ruggedness became more apparent with each stride that he took.
"Ugh," Thomas spoke out loud to himself, frustrated. "You would have thought with guests arriving that they would've hired a valet or rolled out the red carpet!"
As he reflected upon this for a moment, Thomas thought back to the invitiation he had received in the mail five weeks earlier and how the pilot of the floatplane today mentioned that Mr. Own's estate remains the only man-made structure erected on the entire property of Indian Island. Disgusted that he had agreed to place himself into such a remote environment, Thomas stomped down -hard- with his foot on a rock blanketed with moss which nearly caused himself to lose his balance and slip.
"Stupid frickin' rock! Can't you see I'm walking here?" Thomas spoke. As he looked down patiently waiting for the rock to explain itself, in a matter of self-righteousness Thomas dropped quickly the items he was carrying and picked up the rock and flung it towards a group of pines to the left of where he was standing.
As a matter of sabotage, it was not as if the rock itself was to blame. Earlier that day, Indian Island received a brief shower to where the rain droplets had saturated everything onsite with a light covering. The Italian black, leather shoes that Thomas was wearing did not particularly help his circumstance. As Thomas proceeded to pick up his belongings again to continue further down the path that he began to resent, the mud which was caked on the bottom of his loafers the entire time let down their guard and made an attempt to enjoy the "ride."
End of Chapter One
--------------------------------------------------
Chapter Two - The Waiting Game
"Everyone? Your attention please," the hired maid formally declared. "Once the last guest arrives, each of you will be shown suitable lodging and accommodations. Until then, your belongings may be left here and you are invited in the meantime to retire to the entertainment or billiard room."
Upon hearing of this direction, three out of the seven guests sat looking at each other while the other four randomly stood up anticipating a change of scenery from what they have seen so far on the estate grounds.
"Now, if you will follow my lead please, I will ..."
(KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK)
The rapping at the door interrupted the maid mid-sentence as well as her current train of thought. "Oh dear! That must be the arrival of number eight! If you will kindly excuse me please," she announced and scuttled off towards the direction of the foyer.
With almost the same amount of fervor the maid devoted towards her responsibilities, the four guests whom had stood up from their seats earlier reacted about as hastily and parked themselves right back down again in a way which looked deliberate but unassuming.
Unfortunately, by the time the maid had excused herself from the estate's library/study (the place where the rest of the guests were corralled), when she finally reached the front of the estate where the foyer was located the hired butler had already taken possession of the bag and gear that Thomas had brought along as he had finally arrived.
"Well, well, well..." Thomas spoke brushing off droplets of moisture away from the sleeves of his overcoat. "I cannot begin to tell you how enjoyable the journey was for me in arriving here," Thomas spoke in a snide form of tone. Without waiting to be invited, Thomas walked directly past the butler and crossed the estate's threshold and into the foyer.
"Your coat, sir?"
Without acknowledging him, Thomas shed off his coat and immediately focused his gaze upwards at the sizeable log-beams which supported the A-frame structure/architecture of at least one-half of the estate mansion.
"Good day sir, and welcome to Mr. Own's estate," the maid spoke up signifying her presence in a way which was positive but, also at the same time versed as she had to declare the statement throughout the day and at least seven other times.
"Hello. I am Thomas. Mr. Own invited me today for this little get-together he is having."
"Sir, if you please. I'll lead you towards the library/study room where the other guests have gathered," the butler interjected walking with Thomas' bag and gear towards the direction of the estate the maid had escaped from.
As Thomas stepped forward, he paused for a brief moment and without hesitation kicked off the right and then left Italian loafer shoes he had purchased just last month (indistinguishable now because of an encounter with Alaskan mud).
End of Chapter Two
