Flash Fiction Magazine

Daily Flash Fiction Stories

Not Fade Away

42 Comments

By Jay Bechtol

This Story Was an Honorable Mention in Our Contest

Learn More About Our Contest Here

Tommy Mickelson was six years old the first time his mother let him ride in the front seat. He punched the buttons on the AM radio, moving the tuner from station to station. Pick one, his mother said. He chunked the thick button, and Buddy Holly’s voice came out of the dashboard. Tommy looked at his mother. Why don’t songs end like books? he asked. Why do they get quieter and quieter until they are all gone? Shouldn’t he say, ‘The End’ when he’s done? She laughed and patted his leg. Well, Tommy, some things end and some just fade away. She never took her eyes from the road.

In third grade, Tommy’s teacher gave him a blue ribbon. For being good at math. He stood in front of the class and she said wonderful things about him. In fact, she announced, we are going to let Tommy do math with the fourth graders. She beamed as if this was the greatest news ever. No, thank you, Tommy said and returned to his desk leaving his teacher holding the ribbon.

One day during gym class, Mr. Robineaux, the basketball coach, pulled Tommy aside. You’ve got a sharp eye, Tommy. Shoot better than most kids I’ve seen. You should join the Freshman Team. With a little practice, you could make varsity as Junior. He clapped Tommy on the shoulder and grinned a wide grin. Tommy looked to the other side of the gym where the older kids dribbled basketballs. They’re all taller than me, he said, and I prefer Tom.

Tom pulled his car into an empty spot at the far end of Ruby’s Drive-in. The other kids’ cars were all crammed together. Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride” thumped in the night. Tom reached down and turned the radio knob until he found the same station. He bobbed his head in time with the music and watched Paula Driscoll dancing with her friends. He wondered if he asked her to Senior Prom, what she would say. He ordered a root beer float instead.

You like the Stones, Private Mickelson? “Gimme Shelter?” It’s just a shot away? Sarge tapped his thick finger on Tommy’s helmet. You wanna get home, private, you keep your head down. Charlie’d love to shoot it off and hang it from a tree. Can you keep your head down? Tom nodded. Yes, Sargent, I’m pretty good at that.

Tom tacked a small picture to the wall of his cubicle at Xerox. An island in the South Pacific. It looked a bit like the jungles of VietNam, but with fewer people trying to take his head off. Jackie, in the next cubicle, popped over. Wanna get lunch? Tom shrugged. I’m not terribly hungry. Jackie laughed. You’re never hungry. She pointed at the photo. You thinking of going on vacation? Tom stared at the island. Someday.

Tom’s rocking chair creaked on the front porch. He set his book down, pulled the blanket a little tighter across his lap, and ran his hand through what remained of his thin white hair. A vintage Cadillac zoomed past, music blared, and the kids inside screamed along with some song he didn’t recognize. The car faded into the distance like the memories of his life and…

…the music echoed in his ears.

…the music echoed in his ears.

…the music echoed in his ears.
…the music echoed in his ears.

Dialogue That Zings with Laura Besley - November 7 & 8

Learn dialogue from every angle, from giving each character a distinct voice to avoiding info dumps and knowing when to cut a tag.

Learn More and Enroll

Reader Interactions

Comments

  2. So much to enjoy in this piece. Well done. I especially like the line, I’m not terribly hungry. You portrayed his lack of hunger for taking a chance on himself and life so well.

    Reply

  5. This is a cautionary tale. I like the structure very much and how it leads the reader into Tommy’s tale and how his names show the passage of time.

    Reply

  6. Jacalyn
    An entire life story in so few words. I would never have guessed it could be so skillfully written.

    Reply

  11. Jay,
    I was lost in your prose from the beginning. After reading, I sat here for a moment and burst into tears, unexpectedly.
    Your story struck several emotional cords.
    The goal of writing is for the author to make the reader feel something.
    You aced it.
    -The End

    Reply

  13. I just decided to read a few lines but I couldn’t leave till the end. Wonderful, what a tapestry of incidents woven together!

    Reply

  17. This is a quiet little story that reaches into what you are familiar with and pulls you along for the ride. Masterful. Wouldn’t change a thing. Why didn’t it win 1st?

    Reply

  19. Congrats for the perfect flow and pace…a thought provoking read to help us remember not to fade away but to live our lives to the full…

    Reply

  20. I have this story very compelling and sad. Tom seemed more of an observer in his life as opposed to an active participant. I think he sacrificed a lot to avoid taking risks. I appreciate the opportunity to read this great story.

    Reply

  21. Tom sounds like a phlegmatic and I’m disappointed I don’t get to meet him. I’d read a novel based around this character, especially if it’s set in the past.

    Reply

    • Thanks! I have an ebook called “The Great American Coward.” Different main character, but shares some traits with Tom here… also, not set in the past.

      Reply

Leave a kind or constructive comment.