Craven Danger on the Run- Part One
Craven Danger dodged one bullet. Than another. He ducked into a dark alley, turned on his heels and fired his weapon.
Click! Click! Click!
“No bullets!” said Craven. “Dang it Betty! How many times do I have to say it? When your done cleanin’ the gun, ya gotta put the bullets back in!”
But Betty wasn’t there to hear him. Craven was on his own. But he still heard that voice in his head.
Why do ya need bullets for? Ya never gonna shoot nobody. Ya ain’t got the nerve.
“Whaddaya mean I ain’t go the nerve," said Craven. “I’ll show ya some nerve!”
That said, Craven stood tall and holstered his pistol. He then picked the lid off a tin garbage can, held it up to his face and rushed his assailant.
“How’s that for nerve!” said Craven. “I got it comin’ outta my ears!”
When Craven heard the click! click! click! of his peruser’s gun he knew he had his man.
“Freeze!” said Craven. “And no one gets hurt! I’m taking you in!”
“You couldn’t take your own grandmother in," said the assailant. “You ain’t got it in ya. I seen more backbone on a quivering jellyfish.”
“Betty?” said Craven. “Is that you?"
When the alarm clock went off, Craven bolted upright and whacked Betty with his pillow.
“Hey! What’s the idea?” said Betty. “And it better be good, because that didn’t tickle.”
Betty sat upright in the bed and ran her fingers through her hair.
“Sorry, Betty” said Craven. “I’m having those bad dreams again.”
“Which one was it this time?” said Betty. “The one where your chased into the lake by the bunny rabbits? Or was it the one where the pigeons toss you off the roof? ‘Cause ta tell ya the truth, Mr. Danger, your dreams are killin’ me.”
“No," said Craven. “It’s the one where you're shooting at me and I shoot back, but I ain’t got any bullets. And you keep tellin’ me I ain’t got any nerve.”
“I never said ya ain’t got the nerve,” said Betty. “I said ya ain’t got it in ya to shoot nobody. There’s a difference. It's psychoillogical, Mr. Danger.”
“That’s psychological,” said Craven.
“Whatever,” said Betty. “All’s I know is, ya just gotta see a head doctor. Someone ta open that skull a yours and help put together the missin’ pieces. You’re like a radio that ain’t quite pickin’ up all the stations. Ya need somebody ta fix your antennae. First thing tomorrow mornin’ I’m makin you an appointment with the doctor down the hall from the office. Before ya no it, Mr. Danger, you’ll be static free and havin’ none a them bad dreams no more. Like the one where that mouse is dragging you down the stairs by your ankles.”
“I hate that mouse,” said Craven. “He always seems to enjoy it. And could ya do me a favor, Betty, and stop callin‘ me Mr. Danger. We‘ve been married more than a year all ready. It's Craven.”
“I can’t help it,” said Betty. “It’s stuck in my head and I can’t get it out. Now come over here and make it up ta me for hittin' me with that pillow. I’ll make ya forget all ya bad dreams for awhile.”
As Craven Danger fell into Betty’s arms, all his emasculating fears melted away.
Moments later, Betty would moan the name Craven three times. It would only be on such occasions that she would do so.
Dr. Hugo Retch, read the sign on the door. Psychiatrist.
“I hope this guy knows what he’s doing,” said Craven. “‘Cause I sure don’t.”