Story excerpt from “Canaries Don’t Sing”

short story, writing


They never believe you when you say you’re innocent. In many cases, they would be right, but in this case, they’re wrong. I’ve done quite a few questionable things in my life, but that’s only due to my line of work you see. In this instant though, I didn’t do it. I didn’t murder anybody. I’d been framed. Unfortunately for me the judge lays down the verdict and pounds his gavel. I bet he gets a rise out of doing that.

I sit reflectively as spectators mill out the courtroom doors and into the mid-day heat. The bailiff that waddles over resembles a sausage stuffed into a casing. He roughly pulls me up and slaps the cuffs on. I’m sure they expect women to make a scene or a fuss, lord knows many do, but I’m not one of them. I’ve been trained to be calm cool and level-headed. My partner tips his hat as I pass, a remorseful look crossing his face.

“I’ll get you out of the pen as soon as I can.”

Good old Murray. I nod and let the bailiff lead me away through the door adjacent to the judge’s chair. I have time to mull over the events of just three days prior as I’m searched, stripped, and fingerprinted.

The date was April 29th, 1942. My partner, Murray, and I were assigned to obtain vital information about trafficking of rare gems in and out of the country. The target, Mr. William Tucker, was suspected as a trafficker. It was my mission to seduce him during one of his parties and trick him into confessing. All was going well, I had Tucker wound around my finger. He had a thing for blondes, which worked in my favor. Anyway, I had him in a room upstairs spilling his guts. Murray was downstairs in the party keeping watch. When I’m done with Tucker, I turn to go but he has other ideas. He grabbed me and started kissing me, I resisted and when he became more violent, I snatched a vase from a nearby table and broke it over his head. I checked to make sure he was still breathing, which he was. This wasn’t part of the plan, but nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I went back downstairs and melted into the crowd. Joining Murray, we quickly excited the estate.

The following morning the newspapers declared William Tucker had been murdered. Witnesses saw me go upstairs with him and I came down alone. Immediately I had the fuzz at my door. I cursed myself for not being more discreet. I stuck with the story that I had gone up and he had become physical, which is why I had shattered the vase over him. They asked me to explain how there was a gun with my fingerprints on it at the scene. I said there was no gun. They had said there was and they matched the prints from the vase to the gun. I was promptly arrested. Fortunately I had given the information to Murray so he could relay it to our superiors.

I just have to sit down and shut up and soon Murray will have me sprung. After all, agencies don’t generally want their spies locked up in prison. It’s bad for business.

The bailiff guides me to a cell, pulls the door open and shoves me inside. “You’ll settle in nicely Pearl,” he laughs as he slams the door.


quote of the day

history, inspiration, life, motivational, quote, quote of the day, racism

“If you can love your enemy, you already have victory.”

-Preacher Green, The

To me, this quote can mean several different things. I don’t think he means you necessarily need to love to person you consider your enemy. You do not need to feel love for them. Instead, you need to understand them. You need to treat them better, and in being that bigger person, you have won so much. If you can rise above the hatred they have for you, and refuse to hate them in return, you are already better than they will ever be.

In the context this quote was taken from, the preacher’s words are referring to racism. Just because a black person can rise above and avoid reacting to a white person’s hate, does that mean he has become victorious? Probably not, because the hate will still continue. But because he has chosen to turn the other cheek, he knows in his heart that he has done the right thing in the face of the wrong thing. And that’s what it comes down to in the end, staying true and right in the midst of continuous wrong doing. It took tremendous strength to endure the stupidity of racism from the day you were born until the day you died.


quote of the day

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“History is the version of the past events that people have decided to agree upon.”
-Napoleon Bonaparte
History is written by the winners. Therefore we have no idea what really happened, and this has always bothered me. I would love to hear the unbiased version of events in history. If we could hear both sides of the story we would better understand why things happened and what actually transpired. Knowing half of our story will only benefit us 50% of the time. We must be doomed to repeat past mistakes because we don’t have the knowledge necessary to fix them. Are we embarrassed by what the losers would say if given the chance to speak?