Medicine People


Medicine People
by Thadd Presley



The man pushed the needle under her flesh and smiled. He whispered into her ear, as he pulled the plunger back. “Drugs aren’t exactly good or bad, you know?” Her, until now, uncorrupted blood mixed with the sick, brown liquid and delighted the man. “You’re like a medicine man,” he mused. “You’ve heard of then haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled. Already able to feel the strong concoction. “They’re like Indians…”
“Yeah, well kind of, but many cultures them. They were the people who had the guts to try things the others were too afraid to do.”
She nodded. “Like shaman?” She pronounced it slowly: “Shay-men.”
“Exactly. They’d go into the spirit world and come back with knowledge from the other side.”
She smiled. “Like wisdom.”
“That’s right! And it would change everyone’s life? They found out things from the ancestors and were decades ahead of their time. Centuries, even.
“Yeah.”
“Are you afraid?”
“No.”
He pushed the plunger and forced the liquid into her vein. She smiled as the numbness flowed across her chest and up her neck. Her eyes drooped twice and then closed peacefully as she slipped from the world of the living and entered the spirit world.



Copyright Thadd Presley — All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Jack’s Apartment (part 7)

Jacks Apartment
by Thadd Presley

He woke sitting up on his couch. The quilt had fallen in the floor and was laying too close to the heater. He could see steam rising from it. Sunshine streamed in through the windows,brightening his living room.
Then the knock came again. The same three booming knocks. He looked at the red, digital numbers of the clock blinking 12:47 PM

“Damn, the electricity must have gone out,” he said to no one. Then, to the knocking, he yelled, “hold on.”

“Jack,” someone called. It was a familiar voice. “You in there?”

“I said hold on. Just a second.”

Two sleepy steps brought him close enough to the only window for him to see the red pinto on the curb. It was Adam come to visit him. He opened the door.

“Mornin’ Adam.”

“Boy you’re a light sleeper,” Adam joked.

“Lucky I slept at all.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Adam sympathized. “I hope you feel up to coming to the food drive?”

“I had the craziest dream,” Jack began without being asked about the dream. “Something I hadn’t felt in along time.”

Adam saw the unsettled look in his eyes. “You have to give it time, Jack. It’s been a long time since you lived alone. It will get easier. Perhaps, it’s the temptation manifesting itself…”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Have you had urges…”

“Yeah, I guess, but no not really. I haven’t had time to think about all that. Trust me, that’s not what this is.” Frustration was showing in his voice and Adam heard it easily.

“Well, tell me about it on the way to the church. We have a food bank to stock. I’ve got some coffee in the car. Maybe I can help you figure out something that will help you readjust to your new surroundings.”

“Do you believe dreams have a meaning,” Jack asked,turning from the door, allowing his friend to enter. Then, without letting him answer, “I mean, I know what it’s about. I remember it perfectly, but you think it might mean something in the real world?”

“Maybe, probably, maybe not. What was it about?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“You are crazy.” Adam said smiling. “Or, maybe you should be.” He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Look, you probably just slept wrong.” He pointed to the couch as if it was proof.

“It’s not the couch, Adam. I’ve slept on way worse at the church and at the clinic.”

“Well, we’ll pick up my daughter’s old bed after the food drive just in case. I don’t want you sleeping on that old thing anymore. Who knows where it’s been. And then, tonight, we’ll have a few beers and talk about your new life. It’ll make a world of difference to talk about it and work out a few details of the coming week.”

“No, no, my stuff’s s’posed to be here today.Matter of fact, I should stay in and wait on the movers. Plus, I want to look around and see the best way to get started on the renovations.” But that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to stay.The dream was still fresh in his mind. He could hear the girl’s voice so clearly. He had to get that key, had to help her.

“Well, you going to tell me about the dream or not,”Adam asked, looking around the room. “It’s probably got something to do with this place.”

“That’s it exactly. It is this place. Maybe it’s the whole building.” He closed his eyes, trying to close out the locked door right in front of him, trying not to see his dream.

“Well, it’ll pass as you get used to it. Now, when do the movers get here?”
“Noon-ish,” Jack answered. “I just have the few things from the storage unit. No reason to pay forty bucks a month while I have all this room. I can put stuff in one of the other rooms until I get around to cleaning it up.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could. Tell you what. I’ll give you a call tonight.”

“Just give me a few minutes before you leave. I want to tell you about the dream.” He was starting to feel uncomfortable again, claustrophobic. “I need to tell someone.”

“Wow, this is really got a-hold of you, huh?” Sweat was visible on Jack’s face, and Adam realized then that his friend was actually shaking. “OK. Start from the beginning.”



Copyright Thadd Presley — All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Rubbish Day (part 3)

Thadd Presley

For a while, Jerald allowed them to race with him side by side, speeding at nearly eighty on the newly black-topped road towards Crossville through the community of Deer Lodge. When the Honda’s wheels lost traction, it spun the car into the shoulder where it began to fish tale wildly.

Jerald’s heart leaped into his chest.

Just when it seemed the G-forces were going to take the car over into a roll, a stroke of remarkable luck sat the car down hard on all four wheels. It swerved back into traffic, not far behind Jerald.

That was close enough for Jerold. Too close. All he wanted to do was scare them a little. But it couldn’t take him away from getting to see his daughter. He slowed the Porshe to the posted forty MPH and said her name. How had he allowed these kids to get him so out of control? It nearly ended the very important things he had to do.

This visit to his daughter’s new house in Crossville was already going to be a bad situation. One that would require a good helping of courage and decisive action. It was imperative that he remained calm and clear-headed. Not a word of his introduction could be out of place or his daughter would suspect that something was wrong before he got the chance to fix her situation once and for all.

Once and for all, he thought.

Yes. It would be just that.

 ONCE because it would only take once; and, FOR ALL, because he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for his daughter, his wife, and everyone who might have to interact with the man. Jerald was doing this FOR the benefit of ALL.

Suddenly his nose began to burn and tears blurred his vision. Just the thought of his daughter being mistreated was more than he wanted to know.Also, the shock of the near accident possibly had something to do with the rush of emotion. He allowed it to wash over him.

It was enough to cement the fact that he couldn’t get sidetracked by distractions. Anything that might cause a show of emotion at his daughter’s house would ruin everything. Hiding the immense and deep anger he had toward his daughter’s boyfriend, would be hard to control on it’s own.

He shook his head, as if scrambling the thoughts that were beginning to stack in his frontal lobe. He saw no need in letting the idea of consequences gather against him. Nor could he allow the idea of his daughter’s freedom psyched him up before he actually had accomplished something.

He knew then that he needed a moment of peace before he went any further. He had to take a breather.

He pulled off the highway onto a familiar dirt road the locals called Rocky Hollow. The road was rough on his Porsche, but he’d been down it many times before and was sure he could get in and out without much trouble.

 Jerald enjoyed swerving around big ricks and through the mud puddles. Above him dark clouds began to blow from over the mountains giving the woods a dark, fairy-tale atmosphere. At the end of this road was a deep rock quarry where he and his friends used to swim as teenagers. But he hadn’t been all the way to the ledge in more than twenty years. He’d smoked his first cigarette on the ledge and drank his first swig of whiskey there.

Jeez, that was over forty years ago.

He knew the area well and was looking forward to seeing the water again.He made so many memories in this one place, it seemed wrong that he never brought his wife her and had a picnic. But then, perhaps that wasn’t wrong. He had the right to keep it a secret if he wanted.Maybe something in him didn’t want to tell her about the quarry.

 It was his secret place. No one from his adult life knew anything about it or the things that happened there.

Just as he got to where the trees opened up enough to see the ledge, he saw that all the water had been drained.



Copyright Thadd Presley — All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


Rubbish Day (part two)

There weren’t many Porsche in this condition. Ever since James Dean wrecked and killed himself in the same car, they were prize possessions and most were repainted, reupholstered, and otherwise ruined by zealous owners in an attempt to copy the car Dean drove on that fateful day.

Jerald could have driven any of his cars, but he chose the Porsche on this day because he was on an important mission. Perhaps even a dangerous mission. The weather was nice, the sun was shining, it was not too hot, and the Porsche gave the day – and his life – a nostalgic feel. Today, Jerold was taking his life back from the all the indecision he had surrendered to over the last two decades. He was taking charge of everything and making sure he was in control of everything that happened to him.

When the Honda suddenly jumped up it’s speed in an attempt to pass the Porshe, Jerold swerved aggressively and cut it off. “You shall not pass,” he said to no one and laughed a little. The Honda sped up and tried to stay on his bumper, but it was easy or Jerold to pull away from it. He gunned the motor a tad and looked in the rear view.

The Honda tried to pass again, but at the last second Jerold gunned the motor and pulled away easily. The Honda had no choice but to follow at a distance. It had no chance against the Porsche.

Of course, the young man driving the Honda couldn’t have passed the Porsche even if he had a faster, more powerful car. Jerald was a much better driver.

It amused Jerald, as he watched the driver grow visibly angry, but he didn’t want to put any of the other drivers in danger, so he did not taunt the driver. He did not want him to become any more aggressive than he had been. That was exactly the opposite of what he wanted.

Jerald kept his eye on the Honda in the rear view and thought of an endgame. This couldn’t go on for much longer or they’d both get hurt or go to jail. The driver showed no signs of slowing.

Then,unexpectedly, the driver flipped Jerald the bird and sped toward him.For a moment, it looked as if the Honda was going to ram the rear of the classic, but at the last second it backed off.

Maybe,he backed off because he thought better of it or maybe he was a coward. At any rate, and with a sigh of relief from Jerald, the cars did not collide.

Jerald pressed the clutch and revved the engine. He easily left the Honda in a cloud of black smoke. After that the Honda never gained an inch that Jerald didn’t offer.



Copyright Thadd Presley — All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

We are a Spiritual Manifestation

This is an except from a Jordan Maxwell talk. I made it into a poem of sorts.


I am pure spirit

I always have been

I always will be


there is inside of me

a place of confidence

of quietness and security


where all things are known

and understood

this is the mind of god


of which I am apart

which responds to me

just as I ask of it


this universal mind

knows the answers

to all of my problems


even now the answers

are speeding

their way toward me


I needn’t struggle

I needn’t worry or strive

the answers will be there


I give my problems

to the great mind of God

I let go of them


confident that the answers

will return to me

when they are needed


through the great Laws

everything that I attract in life

will come to me


It is not necessary

that I strain about this

only believe it will be so


I see the hand of divine intelligence

in the flower, in the tree

the desert and the meadow


I know the intelligence

that created all these things

is in me and around me


I can call upon it

for my slightest need

I am a manifestation of that spirit


that spirit is perfect

therefore my body is perfect

therefore I can enjoy life


Each day brings

a constant demonstration

between the universe and myself


I am confident

no matter what the obstacle

it is nothing but perspective


There can be

no obstacle

to the mind of God


which is in me

around me

and serves me now