Take It Away Sam
Stefan opened the first drawer of the tool cabinet searching for the proper tool to deal with his predicament. He eyed the 18-inch hacksaw with the blue handle. It would do the trick, but the outcome would be too devastating. There was surely a less drastic measure. He rummaged around and found a 5-inch X-Acto knife with an aluminum handle. Much more precise and less damaging.
Rust covered the blade. Stefan opened the second drawer looking for something to clean the blade. Fine sandpaper would do the trick. He folded the sheet and wiped the blade as much as he could. Stefan then walked up from the basement up to the second floor bathroom. In the medicine cabinet he found a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He poured the alcohol on the blade. He took out a long wooden match that his wife used to light up the candles when she was taking a relaxing bath. She normally worked till five and would not be home for at least four hours. He lit up the match and heated the blade. No need to get infected. As the flame created a soot deposit on the blade, Stefan wiped the blade with toilet tissue.
He removed his socks and sat on the side of the tub with his feet touching the cool white surface. He lifted his left pant leg above the knee. He tied an old scarf around his leg below the knee and tightened it as much as he could. He placed a wooden spoon in his mouth. With the X-Acto knife in his right hand, Stefan sliced the skin from the inside top of the tibia down four inches. Blood started to trickle down his leg and he noticed the whiteness of his bone. Biting hard on the spoon, Stefan inserted his right index finger under the skin. He easily felt the small inserted microchip. With the tip of the knife, he scraped the glue that bonded the chip to his bone. The pain overwhelmed his senses that the knife slipped and opened his wound a further two inches splattering blood on his right pant leg and across the tub.
Stefan felt his determination weaken; he did not know how long he would last. He poked the blade between his bone and the chip. He twisted to the right and then to the left. He sensed an opening and inserted the blade a little deeper underneath the chip. With a final twist he dislodged the intruding device. He dropped the knife which made a loud clunk. It rolled to the drain leaving a bloody smudge in the tub. He took out the spoon from his mouth and placed it on bathroom floor. With his index and thumb, Stefan retrieved the tracking chip and brought it up to his face. Triumphantly Stefan said: “Got you, you little sucker. Finally, I’m free.”
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Norman Marcotte
Norman Marcotte is an author who enjoys writing speculative fiction with the aim of stimulating different points of views. He has published in Friday Night Reader, Flash Fiction Press, 101 Words and 50-Word Stories. Website: www.normanmarcotte.com
We are left with murky uncertainties about the circumstances surrounding Stefan’s predicament, no doubt intentionally so. The introductory declarative sentences leading up to the procedure constitute an unnerving march toward a precipice. The candle lit relaxing baths are an eerie counterpoint to the bloody agony. Overall, very effective.
A few problems: wouldn’t the tourniquet be placed above rather than below the knee? The title evokes memories of “Play it, Sam” in Casablanca, but doesn’t seem to fit with the narrative. The last sentence of the penultimate paragraph seems to be missing some words.
Thanks for the constructive feedback.
Decent story, but could use tightening of sentences/actions, almost bordering on becoming purple prose. First paragraph was concise and definitely had a hook.
Thanks Crystal for the feedback.
Interesting story. I liked it.
Thanks Eva. Glad you liked it.