Samples of Stories by Ronald L. Herron
~ From the award-winning novel: "Reichold Street"....
It was late August, 1962, when I first saw Albert Parker. After all this time I still remember the year quite distinctly. It was my second teenage summer, part of life's first great transition, and I had been waiting months for something special to happen, something magical. Something like having Marilyn Monroe show up on my doorstep, wearing that flouncy white dress she wore over the subway grate in The Seven Year Itch.
In my dreams she would ask me, in her breathless whisper, to "take her." At the time, I wasn't even sure what that meant. Hell, it didn't matter. Just having her show up would have been enough, as long as the rest of the gang saw her. Of course, Marilyn never came to 722 Reichold Street in Brickdale.
Albert did.
It was late August, 1962, when I first saw Albert Parker. After all this time I still remember the year quite distinctly. It was my second teenage summer, part of life's first great transition, and I had been waiting months for something special to happen, something magical. Something like having Marilyn Monroe show up on my doorstep, wearing that flouncy white dress she wore over the subway grate in The Seven Year Itch.
In my dreams she would ask me, in her breathless whisper, to "take her." At the time, I wasn't even sure what that meant. Hell, it didn't matter. Just having her show up would have been enough, as long as the rest of the gang saw her. Of course, Marilyn never came to 722 Reichold Street in Brickdale.
Albert did.
~ From the short story: "Sharon Ann".... available in the collection: "Tinker"
The barn stood on a high, rocky rise, and was visible over the gnarled old apple trees to the north of the old farmhouse. While the basic structure was almost as run-down as the house, the hayloft in it was fairly new, with fresh-hewn flooring and a new outer door. I liked it in the loft. With little effort, I could see north as far as Sam Prichard's fish pond and south all the way to Newt Pearson's General Store.
I looked south now, and strained my eyes to see in the waning light. There were a lot of cars at Pearson's. That was not unusual. Many men, mostly those I never saw at the New Bethlehem Church on a Sunday morning, gathered regularly at the store. They arrived from various directions on the old gravel road and plunked themselves down on produce-crate chairs. Soon, a thick, blue haze of tobacco smoke floated in an endless galactic swirl, while lanky young forms waited a turn on the tattered pool table that graced the center of the room....
The barn stood on a high, rocky rise, and was visible over the gnarled old apple trees to the north of the old farmhouse. While the basic structure was almost as run-down as the house, the hayloft in it was fairly new, with fresh-hewn flooring and a new outer door. I liked it in the loft. With little effort, I could see north as far as Sam Prichard's fish pond and south all the way to Newt Pearson's General Store.
I looked south now, and strained my eyes to see in the waning light. There were a lot of cars at Pearson's. That was not unusual. Many men, mostly those I never saw at the New Bethlehem Church on a Sunday morning, gathered regularly at the store. They arrived from various directions on the old gravel road and plunked themselves down on produce-crate chairs. Soon, a thick, blue haze of tobacco smoke floated in an endless galactic swirl, while lanky young forms waited a turn on the tattered pool table that graced the center of the room....
~ From the short story "The Devil & Charlie Barrow".... available in the collection: "Zebulon"
It was widely accepted that Charlie, if you let him, could sell anything to anyone. Freezers to Eskimos and oil to the Arabs, that kind of thing. But it was also a generally held conviction that it was hardly a reason to condemn him. People should be held responsible for their own foolishness, after all.
When he stepped into the bar that cold night in December, Charlie acted as if Flanagan's was definitely not the first stop he had made. If anyone had asked, everyone, and I do mean everyone, from me to Mayor O'Reilly, would have said Charlie looked like he had been partying since noon. Still, he somehow maintained the dignified presence that seemed to follow him wherever he went. As Charlie smiled and wobbled his way slowly through the tables, I shook my head in wordless wonder. Charlie ignored many empty seats and finally plunked himself down at the bar.
He took the stool right next to old Beelzebub....
It was widely accepted that Charlie, if you let him, could sell anything to anyone. Freezers to Eskimos and oil to the Arabs, that kind of thing. But it was also a generally held conviction that it was hardly a reason to condemn him. People should be held responsible for their own foolishness, after all.
When he stepped into the bar that cold night in December, Charlie acted as if Flanagan's was definitely not the first stop he had made. If anyone had asked, everyone, and I do mean everyone, from me to Mayor O'Reilly, would have said Charlie looked like he had been partying since noon. Still, he somehow maintained the dignified presence that seemed to follow him wherever he went. As Charlie smiled and wobbled his way slowly through the tables, I shook my head in wordless wonder. Charlie ignored many empty seats and finally plunked himself down at the bar.
He took the stool right next to old Beelzebub....
Ron Herron's books are available in print and e-Book versions at Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble. The award-winning novel "Reichold Street" is also available as an e-Book for Sony, Kobo and Diesel e-Readers, and for iPhones and iPads at the Apple iBookstore. Herron's other books will also be available as e-Books from those additional retailers in May 2012.