Yellow Mama Archives II

Michael D. Davis

Acuff, Gale
Ahern, Edward
Allen, R. A.
Alleyne, Chris
Andes, Tom
Arnold, Sandra
Aronoff, Mikki
Ayers, Tony
Baber, Bill
Baird, Meg
Baker, J. D.
Balaz, Joe
Barker, Adelaide
Barker, Tom
Barnett, Brian
Barry, Tina
Bartlett, Daniel C.
Bates, Greta T.
Bayly, Karen
Beckman, Paul
Bellani, Arnaav
Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc
Beveridge, Robert
Blakey, James
Booth, Brenton
Bracken, Michael
Burke, Wayne F.
Burnwell, Otto
Campbell, J. J.
Cancel, Charlie
Capshaw, Ron
Carr, Steve
Carrabis, Joseph
Cartwright, Steve
Centorbi, David Calogero
Cherches, Peter
Christensen, Jan
Clifton, Gary
Cody, Bethany
Costello, Bruce
Coverly, Harris
Crist, Kenneth James
Cumming, Scott
Davie, Andrew
Davis, Michael D.
Degani, Gay
De Neve, M. A.
Dillon, John J.
Dinsmoor, Robert
Dominguez, Diana
Dorman, Roy
Doughty, Brandon
Doyle, John
Dunham, T. Fox
Ebel, Pamela
Fagan, Brian Peter
Fillion, Tom
Flynn, James
Fortier, M. L.
Fowler, Michael
Galef, David
Garnet, George
Garrett, Jack
Glass, Donald
Graysol, Jacob
Grech, Amy
Greenberg, KJ Hannah
Grey, John
Hagerty, David
Hardin, Scott
Held, Shari
Hicks, Darryl
Hivner, Christopher
Hoerner, Keith
Hohmann, Kurt
Holt, M. J.
Holtzman, Bernard
Holtzman, Bernice
Holtzman, Rebecca
Hopson, Kevin
Hubbs, Damon
Irwin, Daniel S.
Jabaut, Mark
Jermin, Wayne
Jeschonek, Robert
Johns. Roger
Kanner, Mike
Karl, Frank S.
Kempe, Lucinda
Kennedy, Cecilia
Keshigian, Michael
Kirchner, Craig
Kitcher, William
Kompany, James
Kondek, Charlie
Koperwas, Tom
Kreuiter, Victor
Larsen, Ted R.
Le Due, Richard
Leotta, Joan
Lester, Louella
Lubaczewski, Paul
Lucas, Gregory E.
Luer, Ken
Lukas, Anthony
Lyon, Hillary
Mannone, John C.
Margel, Abe
Martinez, Richard
McConnell, Logan
McQuiston, Rick
Middleton, Bradford
Milam, Chris
Miller, Dawn L. C.
Mladinic, Peter
Mobili, Juan
Mullins, Ian
Myers, Beverle Graves
Myers, Jen
Newell, Ben
Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl
Nielsen, Judith
Onken, Bernard
Owen, Deidre J.
Park, Jon
Parker, Becky
Pettus, Robert
Plath, Rob
Potter, John R. C.
Price, Liberty
Proctor, M. E.
Prusky, Steve
Radcliffe, Paul
Reddick, Niles M.
Reedman, Maree
Reutter, G. Emil
Riekki, Ron
Robson, Merrilee
Rockwood, KM
Rollins, Janna
Rose, Brad
Rosmus, Cindy
Ross, Gary Earl
Rowland, C. A.
Saier, Monique
Sarkar, Partha
Scharhag, Lauren
Schauber, Karen
Schildgen, Bob
Schmitt, Di
Sesling, Zvi E.
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Simpson, Henry
Slota, Richelle Lee
Smith, Elena E.
Snell, Cheryl
Snethen, Daniel G.
Stanley, Barbara
Steven, Michael
Stoler, Cathi
Stoll, Don
Surkiewicz, Joe
Swartz, Justin
Taylor, J. M.
Taylor, Richard Allen
Temples. Phillip
Tobin, Tim
Traverso Jr., Dionisio "Don"
Turner, Lamont A.
Tustin, John
Tyrer, DJ
Varghese, Davis
Verlaine, Rp
Viola, Saira
Waldman, Dr. Mel
Al Wassif, Amirah
Weibezahl, Robert
Weil, Lester L.
Weisfeld, Victoria
Weld, Charles
White, Robb
Wilhide, Zachary
Williams, E. E.
Williams, K. A.
Wilsky, Jim
Wiseman-Rose, Sophia
Woods, Jonathan
Young, Mark
Zackel, Fred
Zelvin, Elizabeth
Zeigler, Martin
Zimmerman, Thomas
Zumpe, Lee Clark

The Monster of Hinchley


by Michael D. Davis



   Mama Leroy never left the shade of her porch, nor did she ever need to. People came to her.

     Sitting on her swinging bench, the old woman would watch the town of Hinchley. The cars scooting along, people walking, children playing. People waved as they passed, more often than not completely stopping, so they could sit and visit awhile. Everyone knew Mama Leroy was always there to talk. Often when some were feeling down, or simply didn't know where to turn, they came to her.

     If something truly needed handling away from the porch, Mama would call her boy, Flick. A whisper in the ear and he was off completing his task. Standing seven-feet-seven and weighing over five hundred pounds, there was little Flick couldn't handle physically. Although people liked saying it around town, he was no moron, either. It was an assumption, among others, that people always made about him because of his size and the way his head tilted so his left ear was sitting upon his shoulder. Also, his voice, the fact that no one had ever heard it, not even people say, Mama Leroy herself.

    In town, kids laughed at him and ran, shouting at the top of their lungs, "WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT! IT'S THE MONSTER OF HINCHLEY!" Flick never minded them.

     Littering the usual tasks put upon Flick, there was always an odd one. One time, R. W. Barnett came running up to the porch, shouting that a fight had broken out at his bar up the street, and those bastards were gonna wreck the place. Mama called for Flick, and he went walking up the street at no hurried pace. As he entered the bar, the few wise fellows stopped what they were doing. Two middle-aged men, who created the main ruckus, went at each other on the floor. Flick simply picked them both up by their collars and took them out. That was that.

     None of this ever bothered Flick, because he was doing it for Mama. He'd do anything for Mama. There was only one other person he cared for as much as he did Mama. A girl he knew back in school named Kate. Now, I don't know if this is true because Flick never seemed like the social type to me, but some say back in the day, those two were thicker than thieves. Sounded like she was always an oddball type as well, so rumors could be true but either way, it was her that Flick's heart beat twice for.

     Out of school Kate got herself married to a local boy and had a kid. The years passed under growing clouds until one dark day. Mama Leroy sat swinging on her bench when a little girl came fast down the street, tears rolling down her cheeks. It was hard to understand through the sobs and cries what exactly she was saying, but Mama finally deciphered it. The little one's Mommy was in trouble and her Daddy was mad. It was Kate's daughter; Mama Leroy knew it and so did Flick.

     The door flew off its hinges as Flick ran out of the house. No one had ever seen him run, but today he was sprinting up the street. At Kate's house, he entered shoulder first. On the living room floor, Kate laid unconscious. Entering from the kitchen was her husband, drunk and angered.

    "What the fuck are you doing here?" he yelled.

     Flick grabbed the man's throat and lifted him off the ground. With some of the largest hands in the world, Flick crushed the man's neck, letting his head fall limp and dead. It's said that he was still holding his lifeless body when Kate came to, on the floor. She looked up at Flick with her husband in his hands and screamed and screamed and screamed.

     Dropping the man, Flick ran back out of the house. When the cops nabbed him, he was in the fetal position at his mother's feet, bawling his eyes out. Mama Leroy was on her bench, Flick’s big hand in her lap. She patted it, and whispered to him, trying to calm him, tears running down her cheeks as well.

Michael D. Davis is an author and cartoonist from Iowa. He has written a multitude of short stories and drawn a feverish amount of cartoons in his measly years on this rock. Author of one short story book, four cartoon collections, and one coloring book (all available on Amazon), and he is just getting started. If Michael isn't at home doodling or working on his next book, he just may be in a field somewhere laying an egg or blowing his nose. I should know because I am Michael D. Davis or at least I think I am. I just might be a talking dog named Theodore, you'll never know.  

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