Author's note; First I want to apologize for the length of time it has taken since "Merry Little Christmas" was published until now. I completed this about mid January. I sent it to my editor who never got back to me.Shortly thereafter, I got fed up with my girlfriend and we parted ways. Also some of my stuff parted ways.....like my PC. Luckily I was able to keep tabs on the non return from my editor via my Android.

Frustrated, I sought out a new editor. I found one who was honest enough to tell me up front that I was looking at a three week lead time. Thank you 76waystokiss for honesty and trying to help....even though I am an author, I'm not making this up. I figured that since I could read, write, and send e-mail from my droid, all I needed to do was forward my story file from my sent folder to 76wtk. Right? Fuck no. After waiting three and a half weeks, I got pissed and was about to send scathing words 76's way. My voice of reason asked that I re-check the sent email. Low and behold, I saw I sent words of introduction to 76, but.the file failed to attach. Silly fuckin me! So now, with help from the love of my life I give you an un-edited "Missing."

To clear up a misconception, this is not a continuation of "Merry Little Christmas." Marty appears in this tale but not as a main character. His tale gets wrapped up here though.

Before folk blast me about inaccuracies concerning the locations in this story, let me say I have only been to one of the cities and used literary license to make the others work in my tale.



My name is George Starsky and just over six weeks ago I was handed a death sentence. No, you're not going to hear about my last meal consisting of rare baby seal pate, forty seven White Castle Sliders and salad dressed in the pussy juice of a virgin. I don't know what my last meal will be or when it will be. Truth is it will likely be bland and shitty, as I seem to have problems holding solid food down.

Every last one of us begins dying as the sperm cell meets our mother's egg. Some of us just do it sooner. I don't know the exact moment, because if I did I'd pick an amusing place to die. Unfortunately I don't know exactly when, but I know my time is soon. I have known long enough to have made peace with it. As a matter of fact I welcome death. Maybe I'll get some of those pesky fucking questions answered, like, "Why do I never get the hot teller at the bank?", or Why do the birds shit more when I have washed my car?" or "Why are hemorrhoids called hemorrhoids and asteroids called asteroids? Shouldn't that be the other way around?" Most of all I want to know why it is that when I am running late the slowest assholes in town are in front of me on the roads.

So what, you might ask, is a guy so close to death doing on a boat in the Gulf of Mexico just south of Pensacola Florida? Keeping a friend alive. My friend Martin Fischer is an under water welder. I am in charge of monitoring his breathing air supply while he dives to weld repair patches on a boat. I have only known Marty for three weeks, but we became fast friends since we have things in common. We both love to dive, even though I can't anymore and have sold my gear because of my illness, and we were both married to faithless cunts who stomped on our hearts after ripping them out of our chests Terminator style.

I see by the welding gauges that he isn't welding any more. I start taking in the slack from all of the various lines running to him. Finally he breaches the surface and I help him board the boat. We secure the gear and then have a beer and a sandwich.

As we are eating, he tells me his tell of woe. He tells me about his ex wife; Josie, and how she had started sleeping with a guy she went to college with. She chose to go with the guy instead of Marty on several occasions, always lying to Marty about where she was going or lying to make Marty not go. On his final night in Santa Fe, she went to her company's Christmas party with the dick. When she left Marty packed his shit and left.

"I used a disposable cell phone to contact my attorney after I left. I had thrown my cell over the first bridge I crossed that had water under it. He told me that on the evening that I left, the boyfriend was killed by a drive by shooter. No one saw the shooter and all efforts to locate the car were fruitless. I sat down with cops in Tennessee to answer questions from the New Mexico police. When they asked me where I was at the time he was shot, I told them I was half way across Texas. I drove all night, so I really didn't have an alibi, but I had several gas receipts from my credit cards form locations far away from Santa Fe, including one five minutes before he was shot for gas in Dalhart Texas."

. He had told me bits about this before today. He knew most of my story as well. As a matter of fact he's one of few that know I am doomed. He took a pull from his beer and sighed. "I heard that when Josie got home and saw my note and evidence of her whoring on the table, she lost it. My brother said an EMT pal of his had to sedate her.

For the months following my exit from Santa Fe, my ex tried to track me down. My attorney told me that she had hired a PI to find me. How she afforded a PI I don't know; her boss was so pissed that she had used his business as a cover to cheat that he fired her. He couldn't have it on his conscience I guess. I even quit contacting members of my family for a while because she was getting them to try to talk me back there. I left her everything, and only took a few things with me."

He looked off into the distance and took a deep breath. "I thought she and I were forever. Now she seems to think we still can be, but when I gave her the chance, she chose him. I just hope she never finds out I am down here. I like it here and don't want to leave. I still get questions about the shooting every now and again. I drop hints to those that I still speak to back there, that I might be Canadian now." We laughed at that. "Fuck her! I don't have time in my life for an unfaithful cunt who won't choose her own husband over some random swinging dick." I know exactly what he meant.

Finally I had to ask. "Did you shoot him?"

"The truth? George I'm not sure you really want to know. I will tell you that if it wasn't for a few brothers' help, I wouldn't have an almost airtight alibi. I had a couple dudes riding this way with my credit card to buy gas along the way so I would have time stamped receipts. But the kicker is that if I did theoretically shoot him, it wasn't because of her.

My uncle was an early member of the Sons of Silence. I still have his 1% patch. I don't know if the whore knew it or not, but when they were at Stanford her slime ball boy toy got caught peddling horse at school. When he was arrested he turned state's evidence. He implicated several Sons and one whole chapter went to prison. My uncle died in prison because of that smarmy cock sucker.

Maybe when my brothers found out who my ex was banging, I was given an opportunity to endear myself to them and gain their gratitude for life. Maybe that's what happened is all I'm sayin'."

He looked at me as if he wanted to reassure me, "I regret not handling her differently. I should have tossed her whore ass out as soon as I had evidence. Some guys might think I'm a pussy, but I wanted to make it work with her. That is until she chose him over me at important times." We finished our sandwiches and stowed the diving gear and turned for port. Even though he didn't really confess to me, I added two and two and came up with one dead jerk off. I didn't think any less of Marty. I know there are a couple of people out there that I would love to whack. My own mother among them.

Forty five minutes later we are pulling into his slip at the marina. We secure the boat and walk up the pier. He waves at Tiffany. He is close to my age I think; she is no where near either of our ages. He says she's 23, but if I was a bartender I'd doubt her ID if it said she was 21. She looks 18 and has the perkiest set of tits this side of the equator.

She is obviously very pregnant. I am glad because Marty has told me many times of his ex's miscarriage and the hell that put him through. At least he'll know a joy that I never will. My legacy dies with me.

The closer we get to her the more stunning she appears. Hell, I'd kill for twenty minutes with her. I could never do that to Marty so I am friendly with out being too friendly with her. Besides, I don't trust any female farther than I could throw her.

We say our good byes and they get in his new ZR1 Corvette. I climb into my trusty Chevy Tahoe and head for my apartment. As I drive I think back over the years. One cunt in particular has caused me more heartache and stress than I would wish on Hitler.

My tale actually starts 22 years ago at the ripe old age of 7. I lived with my mom and dad in Jacksonville. My dad was a cop and my mother was a stay at home mom at that time. My mom's best friend from high school Tammy moved in up the street from us that year. Tammy Lloyd had a daughter Linda. With Tammy and my mom being close friends I saw Linda just about every day, and soon we were inseparable.

When I was 10 years old, my mom hot a job at the bank. Tammy would watch me after school, which was fine because Linda was my best friend. We did everything together. We would go for hours long walks around the neighborhood everyday. Even at the age of 10, I couldn't picture my life without Linda.

When we were both 12, a new family moved onto our block. They had a son who was our age. So before long Linda and I had an inseparable third. Randy Meisner was a tall athletic boy where I seemed to be stockier and more able to figure things out. At first Linda wasn't too keen on our new neighbor. She thought he was too much of a jock, and didn't think he'd find most of what we did fun.

It didn't take long before all three of us were together all of the time. Whether we were swimming, reading or just walking around town we were together. Linda still seemed to favor my company; she'd often sneak over to my house after Randy's mom called him in at night.

Randy was a month older than Linda and three months older than I, so he was the first to get a driver's license. Once he had that little piece of freedom we rarely walked anywhere.

Shortly after Linda got her driver's license, Randy began dating Vicki Peterson. Mostly Linda and I would cruise around, never parking out where lovers seemed to go, but we were still often linked in people's talk.

I did once ask Linda to go with me to Homecoming. I was just 16 and had my first car. It was a 68 Camaro RS/SS that my uncle had owned for years but couldn't take with him to Alaska. Shortly after I asked Linda to the dance, she called me to come to her house. When I got there and Randy was there. Randy didn't have a date for the dance because Vicki had to leave town that weekend for a wedding so Linda didn't feel right going with me. We decided for all three of us to go and share the evening. I was pissed that instead of going and finding another date, Randy had whined until Linda changed our plan.

Linda had agreed with both Randy and myself that there would never be any romance between any of us so that our friendships would never suffer. Of course they didn't know this but I was suffering. From about the time I had my first wet dream, I realized that I was in love with Linda. I couldn't tell anyone, which made it worse for me.

On February 13th of the year that I would turn 17, my father was called to a robbery at a mom and pop jewelers downtown. He was shot four times for his efforts and died that evening. My world was thrown into a tailspin, and even the fact that my friends were there for me didn't help. Aside from the pain I felt in missing my father, all I could think about was how much I loved Linda and could do nothing about it.

Randy took me out one March night and we got shit faced. His older brother had bought us a couple of cases of Bud Light and we finished it all in one night. During my drunken stupor, between bouts of crying over my father, and swearing revenge on the bastards that hot him, I professed to him my love for Linda.

As we talked we figured out that since he was taking Vicki to the prom, I should ask Linda. We had just over two weeks, but I figured I could get things lined up in time.

When I got to school that Monday the first thing I saw was Vicki Peterson walking out of the building pissed off at the world. She shot eye daggers at me when I said "Hi" to her.

As I got inside, Jerry Whitehorse pulled me aside and told me what was going on. It seemed that Vicki had walked into homeroom and caught Randy making out with Joan Black. Joan had been dating Tommy Perry but they'd been on the outs for a couple of weeks.

Randy was kind of fucked up about his fight with Vicki, but I figured he'd ask Joan to the prom now. I forgot all about asking Linda until after lunch. As I was walking to my last period class, I saw Linda and Randy talking by her locker. They both saw me coming and headed for their classes. I thought maybe Randy had been priming her for me.

That day after school, Linda called and asked if I could come and talk to her. She acted kind of funny but I said I could. When I got to her house she came out to meet me.

"You knew that Randy and Vicki broke up didn't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, she caught him and Joan macking on each other in homeroom."

"Yeah, but then it turned out that Joan was just making Tommy jealous. So they got back together and Randy was left out in the cold for prom. He told me that you and he had discussed it at lunch, and that you were totally cool with him asking me. So he did, and I said yes. We are looking for..."

I didn't hear another word she said. I felt like I had been punched in the gut by Mike Tyson with an iron glove. I don't remember crossing the street back to my house, nor do I remember getting in my Camaro. I don't even know how I ended up twenty miles out of town sitting on a little finger of dirt at the edge of a lake. The sun had gone down and I had no memory of getting there. I realized it was where that traitorous cock monger Randy had brought me that night the week before to get drunk.

I thought over what recourse I might have. He was larger and stronger, so kicking his ass was out of the question. Plus I am a peaceful man at heart, so evil intent was not in me. I decided that I was definitely not talking to either one of them again for as long as I was drawing breath. They could both fall off a cliff as far as I was concerned.

I asked my self, "Why are you mad at Linda? She didn't know you were planning on asking her." But as I followed that train of thought, I remembered that it was her idea to not have any romance between any of the three of us, because of Randy's fucking whining. I guess that rule went out the window for poor heart broken Randy. Well fuck him, fuck her and fuck everybody.

It was past midnight when I arrived home. I could see Linda's bedroom light was on, as was Randy's. I hurried into my house before either one of the fuckers could come out and call out to me. I went straight up to my bedroom and undressed without turning on the light. Five minutes later my mom opened my door and came in.

"Randy has been trying to find you all evening. So has Linda."

"Fuck those two!"

"George! What have I told you about that language?"

"Sorry ma, but those two back stabbing fucks can go choke on each other as far as I'm concerned. They're dead to me."

"Now I know I have told you over and over that I wouldn't get involved in your troubles unless you wanted me to, but you three, especially you and Linda have been friends far too long to fall out over something trivial."

"Trivial? I planned on asking her to prom, and since he couldn't keep his dick in his pants, he had to stab me in the back and ask Linda. So no, there will be no getting past this. If I have to move to Alaska with Uncle Cyrus to avoid those pukes I will."

"Now Georgie," she knew I fucking hated it when she called me Georgie, "You can't go around avoiding those two. Sooner or later, you'll have to be the bigger man and forgive."

"Not bloody likely. He's lucky that I aint a fighting man. He'd be a blood smear on a sidewalk somewhere."

"Now go to sleep dear. I'm sure it'll all be better in the morning."

I awoke to a ringing phone Tuesday morning. As my mom was answering it I was getting in the shower. She came into the bath with the phone in her hand.

"Linda's on the phone for you babe."

'Fuck her!" I yelled as I turned on the shower.

"He'll have to call you back dear." She said as she hung up. "She might have heard you son. You need to be more polite to your friends."

"I hope she did hear me. You want to be polite to shit like her? Feel free. I'm going to try for a turd free lifestyle."

Mom muttered something as she left the bathroom. I silently reminded myself to start locking the damn door. I could hear the phone ringing again as I finished drying off and was getting dressed. I locked the door as soon as I heard my mom answer it. A moment later, she was at the door. "Randy wants to know if you want to ride with him to school today."

"Not if I had two broken legs and arms."

As soon as I was dressed I went to the kitchen and grabbed some toast. Mom was getting ready to cook breakfast. "I'm out of here mom. I wanna get an early start."

"Don't you want breakfast?"

"Nope. I aint hungry anyway, and I want to be gone before those assholes can try to pen me in here."

"Aren't you being a bit melodramatic son? You act like there's a conspiracy to make you see them."

"Conspiracy or no conspiracy, I plan on avoiding those two like the plague. See you tonight mom."

I went out and got in my car. As I started it I saw Linda's curtains move. I quickly backed out of my driveway and sped off down the street leaving two long black streaks that I'd get bitched at for later.

When I got to school I parked in the south parking lot, the parking lot furthest away from their last class. We'd always parked in the east lot since it was nearest to the front door and most convenient when school let out.

I was glad that my locker wasn't near theirs. I wouldn't have to work too hard to avoid them all day. I only had home room and one other class with Randy, and I only had three classes before lunch with Linda.

I got to homeroom twenty minutes before the bell rang and found a seat near Chris Nicholson. Randy hated Chris with a passion and Chris didn't have two good words to say about Randy. Chris was the long haired, head banging pot smoking sort. So naturally everybody's all American Randy didn't like him On the other hand Chris and I had several classes together and we got along just fine. In truth, I had more in common with Chris than I did with Randy.

Chris and I were sitting there discussing the new bands that were coming out, he turned me on to an album I wasn't aware of, when Randy walked in to class. He looked at my usual seat and then looked around the room. His gaze faltered when he saw me. He almost started towards me and then seemed to rethink. Chris made a comment about the possibility of Randy and his buddies being closet queers, I laughed and silently wished that were the case.

At the end of homeroom period, Randy waited in the hall for me. I walked out with Chris and we bullshitted all the way to our lockers. I knew Randy was walking just behind us, waiting for Chris to break off and go his own way. I got my books for second period and headed that way with Chris. We stopped at Chris' locker and he got his books. We shot the shit for another minute or two, meanwhile Randy, in danger of being late for P.E. had to quit tailing me and head his own way.

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