Masters of Gilligan

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty-Six

            Hurricane Adam made landfall at Cypress Point Plantation Island, southwest of Charleston, just after midnight on the first Sunday in September. Hurricane Bartolo was the weaker sister storm and it diverged north from Adam’s plowed pathway and made landfall seventy-two hours later up South Carolina coastal Route 17 at Bull Bay harbor near the small town of Mcclellanville, the second time that area had been in the direct path of a major hurricane event in twenty years.  The first time was called Hugo.

(Continue Chapter Thirty-Six of Blacksmith's Girl, the final episode.  Thanks to readers who followed along, and thanks to Bob for supporting and indulging the long project!)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty-Five

Cynthia stood straight and tall and held the gun in her gloved hand at her side.  She pointed the flashlight to the floor, its beam dimming yellow.

“You don’t know how happy I was to see you come back, Rob.  And our time together.  How it reminded me of our time on the island years ago.”

She stepped a foot or two closer to Robby, watching her feet as she took each step.  She halted in the place Carrington had been standing before he was shot off his feet.  Slowly, Cynthia pointed the light across the floor and up Robby’s body.

“Do you remember?  The summers?  The nights?  Did your life in the big city, and your new wife and kid ever make you forget?”

Robby shook his head.  “No…I didn’t forget you.”

(Continue Chapter Thirty-Five, the climax, the penultimate chapter of Blacksmith's Girl!)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty-Four

            Cynthia held Robby’s face in her hands.  Light flickered from outside the walk-in closet from the opposite wall.  Carrington’s flashlight beam.  Robby could see Cynthia’s eyes, wide and insistent.  Not as fearful as the tone of her voice.

            “He knows,” she whispered.

(Continue Chapter Thirty-Four of Blacksmith's Girl.)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty-Three

            “They still there?”

            Robby stretched the phone cord to the guesthouse window.  He lifted the edge of the plantation blind, and peeked out through the sheets of rain.

            “Yeah,” he said.  Still there.  A state trooper’s Crown Victoria.  Lights on.  Wiper blades slashing, visible through the trees.  Waiting on the side road near the guesthouse.  They noticed.  They noticed when Robby fled the big house and dashed back across the marsh and the course.  So they planted a car and a cop to watch for the rest of the afternoon.  It was dark all day from the billowing storm.  It was nearly completely dark by evening.

(Continue Chapter Thirty-Three of Blacksmith's Girl, with only three episodes remaining.  After this one.)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty-Two

The rain pelted the metal roof of the guesthouse, a drumbeat that rattled Robby’s nerves in the dizzy morning after the long sleepless night.  Torrents of rain fell, forming new lagoons out of the fairways and cart paths between his place and the big house.  As he stood in the open doorway he considered whether an ocean kayak might serve as better transport instead of the mad dash he intended to risk through the early storm bands to confront Cynthia with what he knew.  To assault her with the truth about Carrington.

(Continue Chapter Thirty-Two of Blacksmith's Girl.  Appearing Tuesdays and Thursdays here at MoG.  The series wraps up in the next two weeks!)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty-One

It was nearly morning light and Robby Cochran was pouring coffee for a dead man.  A resurrected man.  An old friend who should be held down, beaten, tied up and left for the cops to sort out his story while Robby cleared the gate and headed for the mountains.  There were several problems controlling that scenario.

(Continue Chapter Thirty-One of Blacksmith's Girl.)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Thirty

            Robby released Carrington’s shirt and let him fall back onto the ground.  But he stood over him, straddled him, and coiled in case Carrington fought back.

            “Explain it to me.  Get up and explain it to me.”

            Carrington slowly rose, propping himself up, sliding his legs out from under Robby, who stood poised to pummel him down.

            “I’m trying,” Carrington said haltingly.  “I’m trying to figure it all out, Robby.”

            Robby was about ready to smash him to the ground.  “Talk!”

            Carrington shielded his face as he crouched and tried to stand. “Don’t hit me.”

            “God damn it, you tackled me!”

(Continue Chapter Thirty of Blacksmith's Girl.)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Twenty-Nine

            “CYNTHIA!”

            Robby closed the distance between his car and the Angel Oak grounds swiftly, sensing his leg muscles strain and tighten the harder he ran.  There were no lights to guide his way in the darkness, so he slowed when he reached the dense set of trees close to the parking lot.  He sucked air deeply into his nostrils then spit.  And listened for the rustling in the brush and the struggle.  There it was.  Cynthia’s muted cry, feet kicking, and fists flaying.  At the edge of the parking lot Robby could barely make out the scene but he could see her being dragged from behind into the woods by a figure whose arms were wrapped around Cynthia’s face and neck.

(Continue Chapter Twenty-Nine of Blacksmith's Girl.)

Note:  Now appearing on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  It's practically all Blacksmith all the time on Masters of G.  But it's getting pretty near the end! 

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Twenty-Eight

            Robby read the numbers off of the phone card and punched them into the pay phone next to the bathroom in the clubhouse restaurant.  He abandoned his cell phone a few years ago to escape the nagging calls and interruptions.  These days he regretted that decision.  After years of being hounded and surrounded by people his seclusion was creating pains of loneliness.  Maybe a cell phone, and greater accessibility, would connect him again to the fibers of life after so long a time away?  Or maybe its constant silence would remind him more of his voluntary solitude, his self-inflicted exile?

            Sure would make it damn bit easier to make a call when he needed to make a call instead of searching out for the fast-disappearing species of pay phones that were hidden in the dark corners and dank hallways of America.  Might make him less of a publicly pathetic person than he appeared while using a pay phone to display his self-abusive nature to the world when he tried to speak with his soon-to-be ex-wife.

            “Hey…this is me.  What are you doing?”

(Continue Chapter Twenty-Eight of Blacksmith's Girl.)

Blacksmith's Girl: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Russ Venable was a nearly forgotten character in Robby’s misadventures on Cypress Point Plantation, but he was immediately reminded by Ms. Heinrich that the lawyer/candidate was the foil for Carrington’s antics on his last night, the fireworks before the actual fireworks.  It was their confrontation in front of the camera lights that caused what Robby took at the time to be the show rift between Carrington and Cynthia to demonstrate to all eyes that he was drunk, distraught, and prone for an accident.  So when Heinrich reminded Robby of Venable he didn’t need to cover up or pretend when she asked if Robby knew anything about the man.

“No.  I’ve heard of him.  Saw him once.  Why?”

Heinrich grimaced and shook her head.  “Oh well.  Asking anybody I can about him.”

“Maybe you should ask his wife.”

(Continue reading Chapter Twenty-Seven of Blacksmith's Girl.)