Revisiting Old Stories

So I think that there are writers with old stories that they haven’t looked at in years. I have one from high school that I really haven’t visited for ages. I am curious though about how well the multiple first person POV would actually work in a much better written story. I know that my writing/knowledge of writing has gotten better but I am wondering as to how bad my original writing was. So since I don’t have very many views on this blog, I don’t feel really bad about showing a story that I wrote many years ago and don’t really care about anymore. So you may want to look away if you don’t want to read poor highschooler writing. Please keep your comments constructive since there really is no point in trashing it and all I am really looking for is feedback on the multiple POV in first person concept. You will see in the very story how old it really is. Considering that I have since writing this, gone through college and three jobs afterwards, yeah it is safe to say that this story is pretty outdated. Now, I feel that I have given you more than enough warning, so onto my bad first chapter of my story “Red Fox Inn”.

Bridget Young:

Customer: “Can I have some trout?”

Oh lovely another clod who ordered that damn dish. Can’t wait to tell chef that order.

Bridget: “Wouldn’t you rather have some onioned chips?”

Customer: “No thank you just some trout.”

Bridget: “Very well.”

Great, just great. Why can’t some of these halfwits realize that it costs too much to get fish? I mean so what if we are in London. The dollar collapsed last year and the Euro with it. No one can afford a boat anymore. That’s why I keep pushing the onioned chips and the turnip stirfry. Get the hint. Look at the times. It’s 2013 for goodness sake. Nostradamus wasn’t so far off you know, it’s just that instead of natural cataclysmic events, it turned out to be the New York Stock Exchange crash. I’m surprised I’m still living. I’d a thought that one of the street fighters would have gotten to me by now. Speaking of street fighters,…is that Capone Sound? Just my luck, well I’m going to give chef that order now. Sure I’ll get chewed out but I’d rather do that than serve Capone Sound.

Bridget: “Chef, guess what another clod ordered.”

Chef: “Trout. Why can’t you do your job?”

Bridget: “Hey, I tried.”

Chef: “Obviously that’s not good enough. You know darn well we can’t afford fish. Now try to sell some onioned chips.”

Bridget: “Alright but should I try to sell to Capone Sound?”

Chef: “He’s here?”

Bridget: “Yeah, sitting with his mate.”

Chef: “Well at least you don’t have to try to sell chips to them.”

Bridget: “That’s low.”

Chef: “But it be true.”

Bridget: “I’m going, but stop trying to be a pirate.”

Chef: “Yar.”

God I hope he doesn’t try to become an actual pirate. Anyone that would get stopped by him, would not take him seriously. They’d be on the floor belly-laughing. That was a low blow about the chip selling, but he is right. The street fighters never have very much money and a fish dish costs 5 times what other dishes cost. They can’t afford it.

 

Alfred (Capone) Sound:

Capone: “Look at the waitress.”

York: “Which one are you talking about?”

Capone: “The brunette with the locket.”

York: “You know what a locket is?”

Capone: “Yes, my mother used to wear one.”

York: “Oh well. What about the waitress?”

Capone: “She looked straight at us and frowned. She looked down at something and then went into the kitchen.”

York: “Capone you haven’t been chicken fighting again, has you?”

Capone: “No. Have you been stealing rifles again?”

York: “No I haven’t recently.”

Capone: “What do you mean recently?”

York: “Not here, but we might just have a job for you.”

Capone: “Great

Stealing rifles is my least favorite thievery. I hate it even more now that people have been setting their guns to go off the instant you try to clear the breach. Straight into your face, they fire. Chicken fighting, on the other hand, isn’t so bad. I can make fairly good money and still get eggs to eat.

York: “So where you’ve been Capone?”

Man I wish they would give me a better name than Capone. In England, Capone is just a wannabe. Now if I could get the name Ripper. That would be amazing. Unfortunately only the leader of the street fighters gets that name. I’d have to be just as good as the real Ripper.

            York: “I asked you a question Capone.”

Capone: “I know. I’ve just been walking around. Trying to find food, you know.”

York: “Why don’t you eat at street home?”

Street home, the hideout of street fighters, a stop for thieves, robbers and murderers, and a place to stay away from, for the everyday.

Capone: “You know you guys can’t cook.”

York: “Don’t insult me like that.”

Capone: “Wait you’re on KP? What did you do this time? Remark that Dodger looks like a porcupine or skunk?”

York: “No, but maybe I should mention to him that you said that.”

Capone: “Hey you do that and I’ll just say I was repeating what you said at Trading Ben.”

York: “Fine. But I may have told Marx that his soup was just as lethal as his Communism.”

Capone: “You’re lucky the worst he gave you was KP and not the copper pot on your noggin.”

York: “That is true, I guess, but hey I’m just that lucky. It looks like that waitress is coming over here.”

 

Bridget Young:

Might as well get this over with. I need this job. Guess I’ll have to pay for a hotel room. It’s raining cats and dogs outside.

            Bridget: “Hello. What do you want to eat?”

I used to say what do you want but the more perverse and or drunk would say me.

            York: “What soup do you have today?”

Finally someone who asks for soup.

            Bridget: “Vegetable, chicken, leftover, and goat.”

Capone: “Goat? Why would people be selling goat?”

Bridget: “They need the money.”

York: “Just vegetable soup for me and chicken soup for him.”

Bridget: “Coming right up.”

This order chef won’t mind at all. The rain just keeps coming on harder. Even if it did clear up its too wet too fall asleep on the alleys. I wish I could afford a flat by myself but I can’t and all the other flats have the maximum number of flat mates. Hope there’s a room open that I can afford. I’m not the only person who lives like this. We live on the streets when it is clear or at the very least dry. Unfortunately in England that’s not very common. Meaning on rainy days we live in hotels and all of our stuff is in warehouses. It’s not the safest way to live but it’s the best we can do.

            Customer: “Miss some water please.”

            Bridget: “Coming. Here you go.”

Need to give Chef these orders. Swoosh goes the door.

            Chef: “What are the orders this time? You better hope there isn’t a single fish order.”

Bridget: “There isn’t. In fact there are at least two orders for soup.”

Chef: “There are? Good, that means you’re actually doing your… wait. Let me guess who ordered soup. Was it Capone and his friend?”

Bridget: “Yeah so what. It’s cheap isn’t it?”

Chef: “I guess.”

Bridget: “There you go. Be happy with it.”

That got him. Now that everyone’s orders are given, I have time to sit back a bit and look at the newspaper. Reading the newspaper may be the only thing I have left for a routine except for the tea I have everyday of course. The only problem is that tea is starting to cost a lot. A necessary cost, I suppose. I wish the vinyl on this countertop wasn’t chipping. Then I could actually fill in the crossword. Then again the lighting in here isn’t the greatest. I mean half of the overhead lights on top of the booths are flickering. It’s not like the owner will pay to have it fixed. Better check to see if everyone is happy. If I don’t, a person might claim that the inn treated him or her rudely and refuse to pay for his or her meal. That would be a big detriment to keeping this job.

Bridget: “How are you? Do you need anything?”

Customer: “No thank you. We’re good.”

York: “Waitress.”

Capone again? Ugh.

            Bridget: “Yes.”

York: “When will our soups be ready?”

Bridget: “I’ll go check right now.”

York: “Good because we are in a slight hurry.”

Yes, that means they will be gone before my shift is over. Why anyone would want to sit in a tattered red leather booth with a flickering light is beyond me. I guess they don’t want a lot of attention. I wouldn’t either if I was a street fighter. They are unofficially an outlaw, in an everyday restaurant. They didn’t have to be a street fighter. To get in, you have to want to be a street fighter, a lot. Swoosh. Chef juggling again, why am I the only one who catches him at this?

Bridget: “Chef.”

Plop goes the potatoes.

            Chef: “What do you want?”

Bridget: “When are the orders going to be done?”

Chef: “Why do you want to know?”

Bridget: “A couple of customers are the ones who want to know.”

Chef: “Tell Capone that they’ll be ready when they’re and not before.”

Bridget: “Alright fine. Just trying to keep the customers happy, you know.”

Swoosh.

 

Alfred (Capone) Sound:

            York: “I wonder what that waitress did to make the cook yell like that?”

Capone: “I don’t know.”

Honestly like I’m supposed to know.

York: “Well I hope the cook doesn’t mess with our soup.”

Well neither do I.

Capone: “So what is the job that you have for me?”

York: “I told you, not here.”

Capone: “Fine. When’s the next time street home going to Trading Ben?”

York: “Don’t know. You should ask Dodger.”

Capone: “I might. It depends on his mood.”

Dodger doesn’t always have the best mood. I guess that comes from having to be in charge of people like me and York. He’s in charge of the jobs we do.

            York: “Ah. Here’s our soup.”

Capone: “No it’s somebody else’s.”

York: “Oh, well, how was I supposed to know?”

Capone: “What’s wrong York?”

York: “Nothing.”

Capone: “Come on. I can tell something’s wrong with you. You’re crankier than you’re usual.”

York: “Thanks.”

Capone: “I’m sorry but I’m just a little bothered.”

York: “Just a little?”

Capone: “You know what I mean York. Spill it.”

York: “Alright fine. It’s just that the upper levels are complaining about our sector of London.”

Capone: “What do you mean? They aren’t going to get rid of Dodger. Are they?”

I hope they don’t. Dodger, while cranky and annoying, is still a pretty good guy. He doesn’t turn us in every time. Hey, once in a while he’ll let us off the hook because he was in on whatever the prank was too.

            York: “I don’t think so, but I hear they might move us into different sectors and push us into more dangerous jobs.”

Capone: “I can see why you are anxious, York. It sounds like the upper levels are trying to get us killed.”

York: “Yea no kidding.”

Capone: “Now here’s our soup York.”

York: “Good.”

Bridget: “Here you go.”

Capone: “Thanks.”

Finally something warm and satisfying getting into my stomach. It’s been a couple of days since I had anything but cold sandwiches. Walking the streets of London doesn’t exactly get quality food. Man I need money. Or at least another flat mate. Me and Fredrick can’t afford our flat by ourselves anymore. All of our money and stuff goes into keeping it. No way would I want to fall asleep at street home. Thus the fact I put so much energy into a flat. I know too many of the lowlifes in London. Sleeping on the streets is, in my opinion, just asking to get robbed or mugged. I hope that we don’t get moved by the upper levels of street fighters. If we do, I might never have another flat. Wonder what Rick is doing there. I’ll probably be alright with it as long as it doesn’t get him or me arrested. I had to stall the coppers once so he could cover up the evidence. After that episode, I told him no more visible illegal activities. He told me that I have no room to talk, which unfortunately is true. I do illegal activities just like he said, but I do “petty” thefts. That’s why I said visible illegal activities. It’s not that I want to do all of this crime. I just can’t survive by honest means. I would if I could, work honestly that is. Heck, I was headed to a University like Oxford. Once the Pound crashed, a lot of colleges crashed financially along with us common people.

            York: “Mmm… this is good. Don’t you think Capone?”

Capone: “Yeah.”

York: “Listen. Stop by the hideout before you go home or wherever it is that you go.”

Capone: “Why?”

York: “We need to discuss a prospective job.”

Capone: “Oh.”

Man I was so hoping he wasn’t going to say that.

            York: “I got to get going. You can take up the tab right?”

Capone: “No, not really.”

Of course he leaves me with the bill.

York: “You can manage it.”

Capone: “What, come back here.”

            York: “Bye.”

Great, I have to pay the tab. I can. I just don’t like to. I need to save all the money I can. So like York. He’s so inconsiderate.

Capone: “Waitress. Bill please.”

Waitress: “Coming. Here you go.”

Capone: “Thanks. Here’s the payment. Goodbye.”

Guess I have to go to street home now. I am so not happy right now. Swoosh.

 

Bridget Young:

            Man am I glad that shift is over. Time to hit sleep’s shore. It’s so quiet tonight.

            Bridget: “Oooo…”

I am tired and that yawn I just had proves it. Oh well. The lamp poles look like little glowing gumdrops. Wow. My head flitters into nothingness when I’m tired.

            Thomas: “Bridget Young is that you?

Bridget: “Yes and who’s asking?”

Thomas: “Thomas Kipling that’s who.”

Bridget: “Thomas am I glad to see you.”

Thomas: “Same here friend. It’s been awhile since state school.”

Bridget: “Yeah I agree. What have you been up to?”

Thomas: “Not much except that I got a new job.”

Bridget: “Really. Right now I have two jobs.”

Thomas: “I bet you’re renting a flat. Aren’t you?”

Bridget: “No. I’m trying to go get a hotel room right now.”

Thomas: “How come? I’d have thought you were savvy enough to live fair.”

Bridget: “I have too much stuff. I’m renting a warehouse section instead of a flat.”

Thomas: “I see. Why don’t you get one and take your stuff there?”

Bridget: “May I ask what your job is? I can’t afford both a flat and a section of a warehouse. Also I have a lot of stuff. What do you do for storage?”

Thomas: “I work for a rich lady. She has way too much space for her own good. I’m the butler slash handyman. I get to keep my stuff there.”

Bridget: “Do you think I could work there?”
Thomas: “I don’t know, maybe.”

Bridget: “I hope so. I could use a place to stay every night.”

Thomas: “Wait, you don’t sleep on the streets, do you?”

Bridget: “Maybe.”

Thomas: “Don’t sleep on the streets. You know what? I am so getting you a job over there.”

Bridget: “Well thanks. Hey it’s getting late and I just got off work. Maybe we can talk some other time.”

Thomas: “Yea. Goodbye.”

Bridget: “Goodbye, see you again.’

Thomas: “Yea.”

It was nice to see him again. It’s been awhile. It’s great that he cares but I have to do what I can to live. I hope I get that job. I so need some sleep.

Bridget: “Do you have a room available?”

 

 

 

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