STORIES
If our lives are a book, the cars we drive define the chapters.
These are stories featuring cars, trucks, and even RVs that played a role in the lives of the people who owned or drove them. Many are set in Fort Stockton, Texas and involve a cast of characters in and around the dusty southwest Texas town. A lot of the stories are shared around the table at The Grounds for Divorce, where the ‘regulars’ meet.
Pull up a chair and let Lucinda pour you a hot cuppa joe and enjoy.
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THREE NIGHTS AT THE LUCKY LADY, Part III
THIS IS THE FINAL INSTALLMENT OF A THREE PART STORY The silver Chrysler didn’t arrive so much as it announced itself.It slid into the gravel lot of the Lucky Lady Lounge like a polished argument nobody in Fort Stockton had asked to hear but everybody turned to listen to anyway. A Chrysler 300 SRT. Low…
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THREE NIGHTS AT THE LUCKY LADY, Part II
PART II OF A THREE PART STORY The Buick announced itself before it ever came to a stop. It wasn’t loud in the way of cheap noise. No rattling pipes or desperate aftermarket nonsense. This was something deeper. A low, controlled thunder that rolled across the gravel lot of the Lucky Lady Lounge like it…
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THREE NIGHTS AT THE LUCKY LADY, Part I
THIS IS PART I OF A THREE PART STORY By the time Lyle Darnell turned the Ember Red Chevrolet into Fort Stockton, he had already proposed to Evelyn March three different ways in his head and ruined every one of them before the words ever had a chance to land. In the first version, he…
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FOUR IN THE FENDER, ONE IN THE CHAMBER
Every town has a few ghosts that never quite leave. In Fort Stockton some of them are people.Some are buildings.And a few are cars. If you spend enough time sitting at the counter of the Grounds for Divorce, somewhere between Lucinda refilling the coffee and Rusty Hammer explaining why the metric system is a socialist…
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THE WEEKEND MERCURY TRIED TO BLOW UP FORT STOCKTON
Fort Stockton, Texas, February 1972 The trouble started the way important trouble often did in Fort Stockton. With strangers in pressed clothes pulling into town like they expected the world to make room. They came in late on a Friday afternoon, five vehicles in all, led by a black Cadillac that looked too polished to…
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CHAPTERS
I was sitting in the office of CMC World Headquarters one afternoon months ago, up above the Ben Franklin on the courthouse square, when there came a knock on the door. Not the polite tap of someone asking if you had a moment, but the confident rap of someone carrying paperwork that had already decided…
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TROUBLE IN PARADISE, CHAPTER VII, The Aftermath
THE FINAL CHAPTER OF THIS SEVEN PART STORY Fort Stockton had seen strange endings before, but the conclusion of the Melba Duncan affair managed to land somewhere between Biblical justice and a county commission meeting that ran too long. Folks who had followed the trial closely agreed on one thing: nobody would have written it…
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TROUBLE IN PARADISE, CHAPTER VI: The Twist
CHAPTER VI OF A SEVEN PART STORY Fort Stockton had a long memory and a short attention span. The first meant people remembered things they probably shouldn’t. The second meant they were usually too distracted to connect those memories until someone interesting showed up and stirred the pot. That someone, lately, was Parker McHale. Folks…
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TROUBLE IN PARADISE, CHAPTER V: Taking Sides
CHAPTER V OF A SEVEN PART STORY If Fort Stockton had a smell that week, it was diesel, damp limestone, and something faintly metallic that clung to the back of your throat and defied any attempt to cough it out. It wasn’t just the kind of smell that lingered in the air. It moved into…
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TROUBLE IN PARADISE, CHAPTER IV: Measured Justice
CHAPTER IV OF A SEVEN PART STORY His name was Daniel Mercer, though in Fort Stockton he quickly became “Danny” whether he liked it or not. He was thirty-four years old, which in West Texas is that delicate age where you are either “a promising young man” or “a boy who hasn’t learned better yet.”…