Texas
Funeral
By: Jack Batcher
Texas Funeral
Published by Jack Batcher
Great River, New York
©2016 – Jack Batcher
www.JackBatcher.com
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, recording, print, or otherwise, without prior written
permission by the author.
This book is a work of fiction, Names, Characters, Places, and
incidents either are the product of the authors imagination, or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, who are
either living or dead, and events, or locals is entirely
coincidental.
“Mom! Mom! There is something wrong with Trigger!”
Julia Smithers heard her five-year-old son Gary’s
urgent call. She left her sewing behind, as she jumped out
of her seat at the kitchen table, to see what all the
commotion was about. Julia swung open the screen door
leading to the back yard and saw their dog, Trigger, acting
peculiar. Trigger’s steps were awkward like he was a
marionette in the wind. He dragged his right hind leg, while
slobbering uncontrollably. Julia feared that Trigger was
suffering a heat stroke. The temperature was already over
one hundred degrees, and it wasn’t even after noon.
“Gary, you come up here in the house,” Julia called
out, “and leave Ol’ Trigger alone, the po’ dog is sick.”
“Yes Mama,” Gary said, running up to the house.
“We’ll let your Daddy take a look at Trigger,” Julia
said, closing the screen door behind them.
Trigger let out a high pitched howl that stopped Julia
and Gary in their tracks. They quickly turned around to
look at their dog. Trigger’s body trembled as he walked
like a zombie toward the house. He howled again, only this
time the sound was cut short like someone had grabbed
Trigger by the throat. Blood burst out of Trigger’s mouth
and eyes like a broken dam. His head rolled off his body
and with a sickening thump he collapsed down on the
grass. A swarm of flies erupted out of Trigger’s decapitated
head.
“Trigger!” Gary attempted to run to the aide of his
dog, but his mother dragged him inside, and slammed the
door.
“Bill!” Julia called out to her husband, “Come here
quick!”
There was a loud crash. Bill staggered into the
kitchen in a daze. He stumbled like a zombie into the wall.
Bill turned to look at his wife and son. He let out a high
pitched howl. Blood spurt out of his mouth and eyes. His
head fell to the floor as if it were chopped off by an
invisible guillotine. Bill collapsed to the kitchen floor
knocking over the table. Gary and Julia screamed in horror,
as Bill’s head rolled across the yellow and white tiled floor,
and stopped by the cabinet under the sink. A swarm of flies
came out of his head.
Julia flung open the back screen door. She ran out of the
house with her son Gary under her left arm, while dialing
9-1-1 on her cell phone with her other hand. The swarm of
flies pursued her as she ran to the front of the house. Gary
was crying and Julia barley heard the Police dispatcher
answer her call…
“9-1-1 Emergency, this is Tanya speaking. How can I
help you?”
“My Husband! The dog! Dead! The flies!” Julia,
blurted out through her tears.
“Ma’am please try and calm down,” Tanya said,
“Please give me your location.”
“222 Lexington Drive, in Kilgore,” Julia said, “Help
us please… The flies are biting me and my son.”
Then Julia lost her cell phone connection. She ran
down the road with the flies still biting at her, to her friend
Elsie’s house. Elsie lived three houses away and Julia
thought she would be safe there until the police arrived.
Julia pounded on Elsie’s front door.
“Elsie, it’s me Julia. Let me in!”
“My word Julia, what all is the matter,” Elsie said, as
the elderly woman opened the door, “What are all these
flies?”
“Bill is dead,” Julia said, carrying Gary into
Funeral
By: Jack Batcher
Texas Funeral
Published by Jack Batcher
Great River, New York
©2016 – Jack Batcher
www.JackBatcher.com
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, recording, print, or otherwise, without prior written
permission by the author.
This book is a work of fiction, Names, Characters, Places, and
incidents either are the product of the authors imagination, or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, who are
either living or dead, and events, or locals is entirely
coincidental.
“Mom! Mom! There is something wrong with Trigger!”
Julia Smithers heard her five-year-old son Gary’s
urgent call. She left her sewing behind, as she jumped out
of her seat at the kitchen table, to see what all the
commotion was about. Julia swung open the screen door
leading to the back yard and saw their dog, Trigger, acting
peculiar. Trigger’s steps were awkward like he was a
marionette in the wind. He dragged his right hind leg, while
slobbering uncontrollably. Julia feared that Trigger was
suffering a heat stroke. The temperature was already over
one hundred degrees, and it wasn’t even after noon.
“Gary, you come up here in the house,” Julia called
out, “and leave Ol’ Trigger alone, the po’ dog is sick.”
“Yes Mama,” Gary said, running up to the house.
“We’ll let your Daddy take a look at Trigger,” Julia
said, closing the screen door behind them.
Trigger let out a high pitched howl that stopped Julia
and Gary in their tracks. They quickly turned around to
look at their dog. Trigger’s body trembled as he walked
like a zombie toward the house. He howled again, only this
time the sound was cut short like someone had grabbed
Trigger by the throat. Blood burst out of Trigger’s mouth
and eyes like a broken dam. His head rolled off his body
and with a sickening thump he collapsed down on the
grass. A swarm of flies erupted out of Trigger’s decapitated
head.
“Trigger!” Gary attempted to run to the aide of his
dog, but his mother dragged him inside, and slammed the
door.
“Bill!” Julia called out to her husband, “Come here
quick!”
There was a loud crash. Bill staggered into the
kitchen in a daze. He stumbled like a zombie into the wall.
Bill turned to look at his wife and son. He let out a high
pitched howl. Blood spurt out of his mouth and eyes. His
head fell to the floor as if it were chopped off by an
invisible guillotine. Bill collapsed to the kitchen floor
knocking over the table. Gary and Julia screamed in horror,
as Bill’s head rolled across the yellow and white tiled floor,
and stopped by the cabinet under the sink. A swarm of flies
came out of his head.
Julia flung open the back screen door. She ran out of the
house with her son Gary under her left arm, while dialing
9-1-1 on her cell phone with her other hand. The swarm of
flies pursued her as she ran to the front of the house. Gary
was crying and Julia barley heard the Police dispatcher
answer her call…
“9-1-1 Emergency, this is Tanya speaking. How can I
help you?”
“My Husband! The dog! Dead! The flies!” Julia,
blurted out through her tears.
“Ma’am please try and calm down,” Tanya said,
“Please give me your location.”
“222 Lexington Drive, in Kilgore,” Julia said, “Help
us please… The flies are biting me and my son.”
Then Julia lost her cell phone connection. She ran
down the road with the flies still biting at her, to her friend
Elsie’s house. Elsie lived three houses away and Julia
thought she would be safe there until the police arrived.
Julia pounded on Elsie’s front door.
“Elsie, it’s me Julia. Let me in!”
“My word Julia, what all is the matter,” Elsie said, as
the elderly woman opened the door, “What are all these
flies?”
“Bill is dead,” Julia said, carrying Gary into
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