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Jump to Conclusion by Dan Schwartz

  Copyright © 2011 Dan Schwartz

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Other Titles Available by Dan Schwartz

  No Cure for Nature

  Superhero’s Welcome

  Adventure, Sorrow, and Humor

  The Living Puppets

  Terminal Vampire

  For more information on Dan Schwartz visit https://www.banocanut.com

  Part I

  Fran Peabody took in a much needed lungful of fresh air as she stepped out of the smoke filled casino where she had sacrificed the majority of her past day. Fran had never partaken in the pastime of cigarette consumption, but after spending twelve hours at the slot machines at Mohegan Sun, she felt like she had been addicted since she was twelve; allowing for thirty years of lung deterioration. Fran looked up at the sun in the cloudless winter sky and squinted her eyes; was it rising or setting? What time was it? Fran questioned, but had no idea of the answer of what time it really was; casinos have a way of shielding its patrons of knowing the proper time with the eternal light and the constant commotion.

  Fran looked around the seemingly endless parking lot for her red Ford Taurus; it had to be where she had left it, but she had no recollection of where that location was. Fran strolled up the aisles bouncing her eyes back and forth as if she was watching a nail biter at Wimbledon and she reflected on how much she had lost. She had just received her Christmas bonus from her job as a store manager at Home Depot, and with high ambitions she drove from her hometown Newport, Rhode Island to the famous Connecticut money trap.

  Why did she throw all of her bonus away? She needed that money. She needed knee surgery and her insurance was not going to cover nearly enough; plus the amount of time she was going to miss work would definitely take its toll. How could she be so foolish, no greedy? She was not a fool, she was doing this with the small hope that everything would turn out alright; but that is never the case. Now she is broke and she is alone in a parking lot with absolutely no idea where her damn car was. Wait, there it was, right next to a white Bronco.

  Fran got in her aging car and turned the key. The Taurus sputtered for a moment and then revved up as per usual. She pulled out and noticed that the arrow on E meant that she needed to fill up; what else can go wrong? She made the decision that she had enough gasoline to get her back into Rhode Island and she would just fill up later. She did not have the will power to throw any more money away at the moment. Fran sighed loudly in the confines of her vehicle as she pulled onto Mohegan Sun Boulevard and embarked on her hour long and self sorrow filled journey.

  Fran kept the car quiet for most of the ride so that should could mourn her loss in piece and she was grateful that traffic was relatively light. Fran neared the edge of the non-island portion of Rhode Island and was prepared to cross over to her island home by means of the Jamestown-Verrazano Bridge when she saw the one sight she was really not ready for; brake lights. Fran slammed on her breaks and narrowly avoided a collision with a Toyota Corolla before arriving at a dead stop.

  “Come on,” Fran cried out loud while she craned her neck to see if she could get a glimpse of what the holdup was, but there was nothing to see besides more bleeding red taillights.

  Fran inched along the slim bridge and with each full rotation of the slow motion wheels of her car she thought deeper into her financial troubles. What was she going to do? She needed that surgery, and she needed the money she no longer had. She logged a few more feet on the bridge and was almost at the crest when she spied an unusual beacon amidst the sea of red. A beacon of blinding white; blinding white headlights. Fran abandoned her woes and with awe clinging to her face, she studied her surroundings.

  It looked like an accident of sorts, Fran noted as she peered at the turned around green sedan that blocked one of the two lanes of traffic. The car was inches away from the barrier that stood no more than one and a half feet tall and hardly served as any protection from plunging into the frigid and unforgivable waters of the Narragansett Bay that flowed underneath. There was only one car , Fran noticed, which means that this car either spun out of control on the ice that frequently sheets across the surface of the bridge, or some prick hit them and drove off like a coward. Whatever happened it was a miracle that they did not go over, Fran concluded as she noticed the faces on the two young children that sat embracing each other in the front seats. So young; no older than twenty or so, and yet so complacent. Had they realized how close to death they had come? Of course they did, Fran determined, but at the same time could not help but smile for them.

  Here I am dwelling over what was, Fran thought to herself. I was letting things I no longer had control over negatively affect the future state of my happiness. Why bother? I had a chance to make my life better, and I knew there was risk. It didn’t work out, so what? Is that the end? No, I will push on. I can always take out a loan for my surgery, and then when I am back to my old self I can just work some overtime or take on a second job. Is it really that bad? No, I will survive.