13 Comments

The Assistant

The Assistant

A short story by Keven Newsome.

The Assistant is presented as a multimedia experiment. You will be asked to play some music as you read the text. Unfortunately, WordPress will not allow this content to be embedded. Please take a moment to load the song in YouTube. The following link will open the song in a new window/tab. ** CLICK HERE** Do not allow the song to play yet! When instructed to in the story, press Play and continue reading. Take your time… soak it in. And for additional effect, try reading aloud.

William supported his head with the palms of his hands, elbows resting on the table.  Tears ran unhindered down his forearms as his body convulsed.  An unopened beer sat on the table to his left… a .45 to his right.

Nothing else mattered.  Either choice would suffice.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, a handsome man with slick black hair.  He wore a black trench coat and dark sunglasses.  Smiling with one side of his mouth, he stepped to William’s side.  With one finger he touched the small puddle of tears collecting on the table.  His smile deepened.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” the man said as he moved behind William.  He put his hands on William’s shoulders and squeezed.  “You can end this anytime you like.”

He moved his hands to William’s cheeks and lifted, guiding him to look beyond the tears.  “Have you forgotten the gun?  Why must you continue to be so miserable?  Pick it up.  End this now.”

William sniffed and the tears stopped.  He stared at the gun.  His fingers twitched toward it.

The man moved to the other side of the table and knelt behind the gun in William’s line of sight.  “It won’t even hurt.  Just a gentle squeeze of the trigger, and all this pain goes away.”

William tore his eyes from the gun and put his head back in his hands.

“What are you waiting for?  They’re not coming back.”

William reached for the beer and pulled the tab.  He threw his head back and guzzled for several seconds.

The man stood up and circled the table.  “Go ahead.  Numb the pain, but it’ll be back.  You know I’m right.  And what are you going to do then?  You can’t stay drunk your entire life.  Think about it.”

William set the can down and stared at the table.

“Let the alcohol work through your system.  It’ll make this easier.”

The man knelt by William’s side and leaned close to his ear.  “Don’t you want to be with them again?  Don’t you want to see your son?  Your daughter?”  He leaned in and whispered. His lips almost brushed William’s ear.  “Your wife?”

He stood and started circling again.  “You miss them.  You miss their voices, their presence. They left you. They left you… alone.” The last word seemed to echo from the walls of the kitchen.

William’s fingers flexed toward the gun, though he continued to stare elsewhere.

The man smiled, curling his lip.  “You could be with them in only a few moments.  It would be quick.  Why wait?  They would want you to.  They want to see you again.  They’re waiting.”

William’s hand moved a little.

The man stepped closer and loomed over William.  “You can be happy again.  You can end the pain.”

William moved his hand further.

“Do it! Now!”

William grabbed the gun and pulled it close, holding it to his chest with both hands.

The man knelt again.  “Don’t worry.  I’m here to help.  I’ll talk you through it.  I’ve done this many times.  I was there to help your wife.”  He put a hand on William’s arm.  “The important thing is for you not to listen to the lies.  No matter what anyone else has said, no matter what your instincts tell you, you need to realize that it was your fault, just as you suspect.”

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About Keven Newsome

Keven Newsome is an author, musician, and theologian. With a music degree from William Carey University and a theology degree from the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, Keven has actively served in ministry as both pastor and worship leader. He is the author of the Winter series: Winter, Prophetess, Acolyte, and Mantle. This supernatural thriller series has been an award finalist for multiple awards. His short stories can be found in the Aquasynthesis anthology and Avenir Eclectia Vol. 1. He is also the author of We Are One, a non-fictional study on generational ministry (published as KW Newsome). Though originally from south Mississippi, Keven now lives in Camden, South Carolina with his wife and children.

13 comments on “The Assistant

  1. my dearest Kevin,

    very powerful scenario!

  2. I feel like I’m showing bias by posting a comment here, since I got to preview the story :). But, gonna say it anyway: Good job, Keven!

  3. Remind me again why you picked me to joing this group, Keven?
    .
    .
    .
    .
    .
    The posts lately…….

  4. Not sure why you insisted on the music. I think it would be better and stronger without the distraction of that repetitive noise. Good story though.

    • For me music heightens the experience. I can’t write effectively unless I have music playing. And I often plug earbuds in while I read. I wanted to present this story as an experiment to see how others viewed the integration of music and printed words.

      Of course, I am a musician. So maybe that explains it.

      • Music inspires me, but usually when reading or writing the only kind of music I can listen to are those without lyrics such as what you gave us a link to.

        It certainly did heighten the experience for me, that’s for sure.

  5. I am the exact opposite when I write. . I like the silence. For this, I simply turned the music down to a whisper. Great job, Iguana.

    • I prefer silence when I write too. I listened to the music because Keven asked me to, but I turned it off when it got so repetitive and annoying. LOL The end of the story was so much better without the noise. But I’m sure there are more people who like music and feel like Keven does about it being “enhancing” than there are people like me who can’t multi-task. I’m not a music hater, but I only listen in the car, and only if I know where I’m going (if I’m lost, the music is the first thing I shut off, then I threaten passengers) . I have very narrow tastes in what I like too. Has to be CD, not radio, because radio has too many songs I don’t like and no “skip” feature.

  6. I’m crying like a baby, and I have the music turned up. It repeats but it changes, too, like the tempo of the story. Most excellent. You just have to keep pushing that envelope, don’t you?

    Thank you for sharing, Iguana.

  7. Well done. Very chilling.

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