The Man in the Orange Suit
A Wayne Hemmerson Story
by
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He was reading the numbers on the doorways as he passed. The quietness of the hallway sounded each strike of his cane against the marble floors. Peering in, he spotted the Professor packing his briefcase. At the sound of his cane, the Professor looked up. When he saw him, he straightened his stand. "I expected to see you sooner or later, Sir," he said, shoving the briefcase to the center of the desk. "Really," he responded, "I had no idea we'd be meeting today; at least not until I found out Edda didn't come home this morning." Bradshaw smirked, rounding the desk to square off with him. "Well, if you're inquiring about her, she should be coming out of her last evening class across campus," Bradshaw said. "I won't worry about her now; I can catch up with her at home. I just came to give you a quick visit," he said moving closer, smiling. "Look...lets not get off on the wrong foot again," Bradshaw said, "I told you before, I wanted to spend time with Edda, but you wouldn't allow me to do that like a gentleman. That leave's me to have to see her in the streets." "I'm not crazy about the phrase, but I guess that sums up your strategy of the affair," he said standing toe to toe with Bradshaw."Except...you never spoke to me. You're probably getting me confused with my brother, people often do. At the mention, Bradshaw glanced to his cane. "Okay...so what is this, a warning to stay away from Edda?" Bradshaw smirked. "No...no warning. like I said, i'm not my brother. he's the talker you know." "So what are you, the ball of thunder and reasoning?" Bradshaw grinned. "Ball, no...thunder...most defiantly," he said, lifting his cane in an instant, striking Bradshaw below the kneecap, he climbed him, he hit him again across the arm; he heard it break. Stomping his chest, he lifted his head by his hair; looking him directly, saying, "I just came to help you out, my friend. Help you differentiate between your wife and Edda. Sometimes a man needs a little help with things like that; you know what I mean? Too bad these thugs came in here and messed you up before you could see Edda again, but that's life. See you around, Professor," he said releasing his head to hit the floor. With his cane, he limped to the door, spying the hallway; he shook his head. Too bad administration couldn't afford to hire guards; hoodlums were a terrible problem, so Bradshaw could attest.
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About the Book
The unit was operating at it's highest falsity, seemingly staring at the obvious; forgetting that they too must be absolutely positive that what they were seeing wasn't a mirage. They were trained to stay focused, but their sights had been altered; their perception, distorted; their thoughts, clouded; their reasoning; mislead. Enemies were changing the game; the sacred playing field of honesty and loyalty had been defiled. Things were not so clearly displayed anymore; now it was too late to alter the unenviable; because at this instant they understood, all along they had been, "Tied to Deception."
About the Author
Patricia Goodman is a married mother of four. She was born and reared in Manhattan, New York and now lives in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina with her husband, Wilbur. She worked with the Public Defender’s Office, in South Carolina, which serves as a drop setting for her novel. While many of the events in the novel are true, her imagination fueled with excitement to create, coaxed her to reach for the ultimate, which was to write this novel. She is an avid reader of mystery and suspense novels. She enjoys writing, the fine arts, music, and meeting the public. As of yet, she’s never been to Maine or Detroit.