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I made our way back to Hoboken. It was a bit of an adventure with the snowfall and trees laying across the road. Once I got back to Hoboken, I hopped on Facebook. Smiles messaged me, and I learned he lost his phone. He told me about going out for Halloween and how he lost it. We made plans to grab brunch, and I made my way into the city. I didn't forget about the lack of attention he paid me, but I tried to concentrate on the moment at hand. I was going to proceed with skeptical optimism. It was the only way I was going to keep my sanity. The day was long and arduous. Many of my coworkers were dragging their feet, and it was all I could do to light a fire under their asses. I was trying to be as time efficient as possible, but it was no use unless everyone else was onboard. When I didn't think my day could get any worse, my mother called to tell me my grandfather passed away. I was expecting the news, but I had no idea when the call would come. He had very advanced cancer, so it was only a matter of time. I know he was more than ready to go, at times basically asking the hospital to give him the "black pill," but no one likes to see a loved one go. I soldiered on through my day not mentioning it to anyone until I was about to leave. I needed to tell my boss I would out at the end of the week to go home for the funeral. He was very sympathetic and supportive. Really, after such a long day at the office, I wanted nothing more than to see Smiles. He could make me happy, no matter what physical state I was in. I hadn't seen him since Friday night, and I didn't get to spend the night in his apartment. I was itching for more time with him. When I was nearing the end of my workday, I texted Smiles to ask him if he wanted to grab dinner. After some time passed, he responded apologizing, "Ah shoot! Just seeing this now. I ordered pizza and I'm starring at the mess I have to clean up here." I was a little disappointed, but I wasn't giving up that easily. "Mind a little company for an hour or so? Not going to be around this week really …" I texted. We had a very big pitch coming up that week, and I knew I would be working late most nights. This was my last stitch effort to see him for a while. He replied, "Come eat this pizza and hang out. It's not like the mess is going to get any worse." This was my first time venturing to his apartment. I knew the general neighborhood, but not the exact location. After work, I took a cab to his apartment. I was very excited to see him and happy I was finally getting the invite to his place, even if I had to invite myself. His apartment was not what I expected other than the mess he was describing. He was in the process of moving and office worth of things into a storage unit. I didn't care about any of that. I just wanted to cuddle up next to him in bed. He offered me pizza, but I explained I already ate. He suggested we watch a movie, and I agreed. We went into his bedroom and chatted while he picked a movie. I told him about my grandfather, and he lent me his sympathetic ear. We'd already talked about how he was ready to go when we discussed religion at his birthday lunch, so he was already quite versed in the situation. In the meantime, he selected All Good Things while I snuggled up next to him. I have a thing with constantly petting guys I date. I don't know why, but I just crave the physical connection. I was constantly stroking him gently with my finger tips throughout the movie, switching my hand positions periodically. It was all I could do to refrain from jumping his bones. It wasn't the most romantic movie of the year, but I'd already seen it and had sex on the brain. It'd been a while since we last had sex, and I wanted more. Sadly, that wouldn't happen once again. When the movie ended, it was 11: 00pm. He gently hinted at my departure, even going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Yet another sexless night. I was really beginning to wonder why he didn't want to have sex with me. I wondered if it was my issues coming between us or if he wasn't attracted to me. He never gave me any compliments about my body even thought I made a point of complimenting his. Maybe he just didn't find me attractive. Regardless, I gave him a kiss goodnight and walked all the way back to the PATH station to head back to Hoboken. The whole walk, thoughts flew through my head like lightning. I was hurt and worried. Hard to admit, but I almost wanted to cry. That wouldn't be the worst part of my night however. In the middle
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of the night I was woken by violent stomach cramps. I ran to the bathroom and destroyed my toilet. At times, I had to debate which end was more priority to face the toilet. I got almost no sleep and had a full day of work ahead of me. There was no way I could take a sick day. In the morning I was greeted with a text from Smiles: "Maybe a stomach flu? Up all night with cramps and still hurting 😦." I finally nailed the source. I caught some bug from him. "I shared your pain! Still sharing … Was trying to figure out what I could have eaten yesterday … And I have to work all day today … 😦," I responded. To which he replied, "This is the worst!" Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 23, 2011 After being rejected yet again by Smiles, I became quite depressed about my situation. The guy I was dating just didn't seem all that interested in me. I was always chasing him, but it never seemed to go the other way. I needed to do something to distract myself. One was headed to the car dealership to pick up some paperwork for his new car. He invited me to tag along, and I jumped at the opportunity. Anything to get me out of the apartment and distracted from my own misery was welcome. We drove around for a while and the distraction was working for the most part, but my mind would periodically wander back to thoughts of Smiles. I knew he was at Six Flags, but had no idea who he was with. I was a little suspect, but I definitely needed to get out of that mentality. I WAS NOT going to have a repeat of the N situation! While at the dealership, I got a text from one of my other friends who wanted to go to the mall. I told him I'd go as soon as I got back to Hoboken from the dealership. We drove back, and I switched cars. The mall proved to be a decent distraction. I didn't need to buy anything, but shopping and browsing gave me something to concentrate on. I tried to be a good friend and help my buddy pick out new clothes, but he's not the easiest to shop with. While walking around, my new friend in the city (we'll call him LES for Lower East Side from here on out) texted back. He wasn't doing anything and was looking to do a little day drinking. I told him I would join him, but I was at the mall. "People still do that?" he responded. I showered and changed and made my way into the city. We met up at the 14th Street PATH station and walked down to the Village. I knew of a few fun bars near the NYU campus I thought we could hit up. I was forcing LES to get out of the Lower East Side and start venturing west. As we walked, we swapped a few fun stories. The first bar we went to was Off The Wagon, and staple in my old bar routine. We grabbed beers and chatted. After some time, LES proposed we do shots of Jäger. Jägermeister always gets me in trouble cause I get crazy, but I obliged. After Off the Wagon, LES wanted to go to a gay bar. The problem is, I don't know where any of them are, and he was in a neighborhood he was not familiar with. I know there are a fair amount on Christopher Street, so we headed in that direction. We came upon a few gay bars, but they all seemed to be packed with daddies and bears. Neither of us were thrilled with the clientele so we continued on. The good news was we were heading towards the Standard the whole time. We passed Employees Only, the bar I met Smiles in, and decided to stop in. LES was intrigued by its mysterious look. From the outside, it looks like a psychic's parlor, not a bar - This is done on purpose. Being there made me think of Smiles, but I was really enjoying my time with LES. There was no drama, and we were having a lot of fun. After grabbing one drink there, we started to make our way into Chelsea. LES wanted to stop into Gym, a slightly clubbish gay bar. He hit up the bar to grab us drinks, and I made my way to the restrooms. When I returned, he had four gigantic shots of Jäger waiting for us. I asked he what he was trying to do, and he explained there was a credit card minimum. He tried to give two of the shots away, but no one was interested. We each threw back two, and I prepared for a crazy night. LES wasn't thrilled with the scene, so he proposed we move on. It was time to hit up the Standard Biergarten, so we walked the last few blocks and bought our beer tickets. We found LES's roommates and friends and made our way to the ping - pong table with our large beers. I liked his friends, and it appeared they all really liked me. We played a bit and had
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a really good time. The Standard also reminded me of Smiles, but I was having too good of a time to get depressed about it. LES was doing a great job of keeping me in the present. Shortly after arriving, a strange black man came up to us wearing a letterman's jacket and started talking to LES. It appeared LES made a new friend. We chatted with him about his jacket and took pictures with him. Apparently it was this guy's birthday, and he was there alone. LES felt bad for him and bought him a beer, but I knew this guy was a stage - five clinger. He wasn't gay (wedding ring) and wasn't hitting on LES, but I could tell he was lonely and needed friends. I didn't want to get stuck with him for the night. Somehow, LES managed to ditch him. At one point, we discovered a photo booth near the restrooms. I told LES we had to hop in and take pix. We took some of the pumpkins that were lying around in with us and had a blast. After all that drinking and not eating, I was starving. I wasn't the only one. We all came up with a plan to distract the baker and steal one of the large soft pretzels they sell there. Everyone had a role, and we executed the plan flawlessly. I was having a lot of fun. I felt like I was back in college again, mainly because I was hanging out with a lot of fresh college graduates. We scarfed down that pretzel like a pack of hyenas over a fresh kill and washed it down with yet another beer. While we ate, LES turned to me and said, "So, what's the deal with this other guy?" I explained how we'd been dating for some time, but was honest about the uncertainty. I told him about Six Flags, and LES immediately replied, "You need to drop him!" I have a feeling he had ulterior motives, but maybe he was just looking out for me. It was flattering for him to ask about the "other guy." I took that to show he was interested in me. I was drunk. All the Jäger and all the beer finally caught up with me. LES was ready to go and proposed we head back to his place and smoke. We took a cab to his apartment and smoked while we watched an episode of Archer. All of a sudden, I felt incredibly nauseous. LES looked at me and suggested we go for a walk outside because I had "pukey face." I knew I did, so I agreed. I know myself, and I knew I would never give up to the urge to puke in his apartment. But, I also hoped the fresh air would help make me feel better. It did. LES was happy, and we went back inside. It was around 2: 00am, so LES invited me to just spend the night, and I climbed into his bed. I wanted to make out with him. It was all I could do to fight the urge to make out. I was drunk and not of sane mind, but I managed to realize how messed up that would be. As mad as I was about the Smiles situation, I still really liked him. I couldn't lead LES on like that. He was too nice of a guy, and I liked him too much to do that to him. As much as I wanted to get at it, I behaved. Not a thing transpired the entire night. When I woke early in the morning, I needed to make a quick exit. I had to get into work that Sunday morning, but there was no way I could go into work in the condition I was. I said goodbye, walked all the way across town to the PATH and went home to shower and change. This meant I had time to kill after work. My good friend A asked me to grab happy hour drinks with her. She recently moved our of Hoboken into the city with her boyfriend, so I was already seeing a lot less of her. We were due for a catch - up. She picked a place in the Flatiron District that's known for their happy hour. We cozied up to a spot at the bar and chatted about our new situations. It had been a while since I caught her up on the status between Smiles and I. I took her for a ride on the roller - coaster ride of emotions I'd been through. She gave me advice on how I should proceed and things I should watch out for. After five years, she knows me quite well and can predict a lot about me, so I've come to listen intently to what she says. She also took the time to talk about the new challenges she faced moving in with her boyfriend. I tried to give her my two cents for what it was worth. My biggest advice to her was to pick her battles. On the things she could let go, she should, but on the things she really cared about, she should make a stink. That way, he would realize with more poignancy when he was doing things that got under her skin. In
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the middle of our conversation, Smiles called to discuss dinner. He chose a place about two blocks from where we were drinking, and we agreed to meet in a half hour. When the time came, and A and I had our fill of cocktails, we walked to the restaurant Smiles chose. I coerced her into coming along to meet him since none of my friends had the opportunity yet. I introduced them to each other, and Smiles invited her to join us for dinner. A had plans to meet her boyfriend for dinner, and I could tell she was looking for a quick exit, so she agreed to sit with us for a few minutes. She was already running late. I appreciated her making the extra effort, and gave her the out she needed. I told her to get on her way. After she left, the conversation with Smiles was slightly forced and awkward. I was having a hard time breaking through and there were periods of silence. I learned he was feeling very sick and his stomach was bothering him. He had issues with his appendix, and it was inflamed and bothering him again. Now, I was worried. I genuinely cared for him and my paternal instincts kicked in. I was worried for his safety and said, "Don't be a hero on me here. If you aren't feeling well, we can go at any time. Don't soldier on on my account." The rest of the meal was pleasant, but quiet. I reached my hand under the table to rub his knee to try to make a better connection while we chatted. That, and I was still worried about his condition. When we finished dinner and desert, we had some time to kill. Smiles walked around the neighborhood looking for a massage parlor (legit, not sexual) in which to kill time before the birthday party. We couldn't find one still open to take advantage of, so we hopped in a cab and made our way to the party. When we arrived at the party, I was slightly overwhelmed by the crowd. I'd never been to a party so heavily skewed male in my life. I learned the birthday boy was gay, which answered a lot of questions for me. We found a comfortable spot to plant ourselves and each grabbed a drink and something to nosh on. We made a friend and chatted with him a bit. He was an extremely jacked and cut black man who is an interior decorator. It was interesting hearing him talk about his occupation, all while looking at someone who looked like a personal trainer. Both their eyes focused on me. The pressure was on. I didn't know what answer Smiles was looking for, but I saw this as an opportunity to gauge his reaction. I tilted my head slightly to the side nodding and said, "Yeah." Our new friend called attention to and questioned my head tilt heavily. I pointed out we didn't know each other all that long. I still look back and wonder if Smiles was actually looking for me to say yes. I still wonder if he was being distant because he thought I wasn't fully invested in our budding relationship. Of course I wanted to say yes, we were dating, but I didn't know where his head was at the time. I didn't want to scare him off by being overzealous. We were nearing the time to head out for the night, but I needed to use the facilities first. That was particularly a challenge because the bathroom was being used by a few to sign a birthday book photo album. Finally, I gave up and assumed I could go when I got back to Smiles' apartment. We went downstairs and hopped in a shared cab with one of the female guests from the party. As we progressed, I learned I would not be going back to Smiles' apartment. My destination was the PATH to go home. I was slightly shocked and annoyed. It was a Friday night. Why wasn't I being invited back to his place. I know I'd never been there before, but this was a bit ridiculous. It was around midnight, and I was dreading my trek back to Hoboken. He hopped out of the cab with me. We said goodbye on the street with a quick kiss, and I was on my way home. I'm not gonna lie. I was hurt. I felt rejected. There was only so much rejection I could take. As I walked, I pulled out my phone. I called Boston, but of course, he was still ignoring my calls. I left him yet another voicemail. I also called my new friend to see what he's been up to. No answer either. Finally, I texted the Principal. It'd been a while since we chatted, so I thought I'd given him enough space. We began texting, but I told him I'd have to continue the conversation on the other side of the river. While waiting for the PATH, I nearly p * ssed my pants. The train going into the city dropped off a tranny who felt the need to flirtatiously wave at me and say hi. When it finally arrived, I leaned my back against the wall and closed me eyes to concentrate on
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something other than my bladder. Two women were in front of me on the crowded train, and around a turn, one fell into me. They started arguing with each other and engaged me in conversation. Though not stated outright, I learned they were a lesbian couple, and they were hot. We had a long conversation, and when we arrived at the Hoboken stop, they invited me to come hang out with them. They had no idea my preferences fall in the men category, and they were inviting me back to their place. I used my bladder as an excuse and said goodbye. It was early enough, but I was not in the mood to play. While speed walking home, a very large black girl grabbed my arm, pulled me towards her, and shouted, "TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU!" I ripped my arm free and continued to walk home, all the while texting with the Principal. I was flirting slightly, but not to the point of crossing the line with him. I missed talking to him and our flirtations. I really did like the guy, but the distance was still killer. When I got home, I relieved myself and hopped into bed. I was disappointed I was there alone, but I opened up a whole new can of worms with the Principal. He still wasn't over me, and I just scratched open that scab again. I even went as far as to pull up Grindr again for the first time in over a month. Furthermore, I wouldn't be seeing Smiles the following day. Originally I was planning to go to a horse race in New Jersey and invited him to join. When the day was approaching I was no longer interested in going and sold my ticket. I was hoping to spend the day with Smiles, but I learned he was going to Six Flags with friends - without me. I understand he has a life of his own, and I don't have to spend every waking moment with him. But at this stage in our relationship, I wanted to spend more and more time with him. I certainly would have invited him on a fun trip such as the one he was going on. Apparently, he didn't feel as strongly for me. A clearer picture was being painted for me. Maybe he just wasn't that into me. Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 21, 2011 My weekend with Smiles was a decent one. I'm not self - destructive, nor do I get in my own way enough to think it was a failure or a bad weekend. Any time I spendt with him was progress, and it made me happy. But, I left the weekend feeling a little uneasy. I was denied twice in two days. Did he not find me attractive? Was he just thinking of me as a friend? Not knowing where I stood was eating away at me. It's obvious he was interested in me. But, it was his level of interest that worried me. We were in the beginnings of a budding relationship, or so I hoped. Things were supposed to be carefree and fun. The heavy stuff comes later. We should have been having sex like rabbits and dying to see each other. I felt like I was constantly chasing after him. I got no indication he was interested in chasing me. But, maybe I wasn't giving him the opportunity. Maybe I got so excited about him, I was constantly initiating our time together, and if given the chance, he would be asking me out on dates. On Monday evening I texted him to see if I could spice things up with a little getaway. "Hey. What would you say to getting out of the city for a weekend? … Celebrate your birthday, just the 2 of us … Something totally low - key and relaxing like New Paltz, NY. Gorgeous this time of year too and not that far …" I thought if we hit up a bed and breakfast, we could find the time to get wrapped up in each other with no other distractions. A big part of me thought this was a giant leap forward, and I was moving too soon, but another part of me noticed a little bit of stagnation. Things were getting a little stale. Maybe I needed to intervene to get us to that happy - go - lucky mindset. Just as I expected, he safely replied, "Hmmm that sounds like fun, can I think on that one for a min? I'd want to be able to give you my full attention and I think with [work] this weekend, the [possibility of a new prospective work project] starting and the over two jobs with a bit of clock on them, I might not be totally present. Which wouldn't be fair." I was right. Too soon, too fast. I didn't want to cower and backtrack. I had to play it cool. "Certainly. Wasn't exactly talking about this weekend. Was more thinking 3 + weekend out. Just wanted to throw it out on your radar," I replied. I wasn't lying. I was really just planning in advance. I decided to take some advice from friends and play a little hard to
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get. I stopped texting or calling. The next point of contact was going to be initiated by him. It killed me. I wanted to text so bad. I never went anywhere without my phone, waiting for him to text or call. Tuesday went by without a word. I was in a bad place. I started having doubts about the whole thing. We were only a couple of weeks in, and he already grew tired of me. These weren't good signs, and I started to really get down about it. I decided, I wasn't going to put myself back out there completely, but I was going to continue to put my ear to the ground to see what was going on out there. I started answering my messaged on OKCupid and chatting with a few guys. It was nothing crossing the line, but in a way, I was laying some groundwork if Smiles decided he was done with me. Finally, on Wednesday, he texted me to ask me how my day was going. The exchange went back and forth a bit before simmering out. I was thrilled - Back on top. I recognized how happy I was, but I also recognized how dependent I am on others for my own happiness. This is an issue. I really need to learn to be more independent. It's not healthy to need other people to that extent. In our exchange, he invited me to come with him to a bar to watch a friend's band the following night. I reminded him I had volleyball on Thursdays and couldn't go. I really wanted to go, but another part of me was happy I had to turn him down. I have a tendency to drop everything for men I'm interested in. I needed to show I was independent as well. Thursday went by, and we didn't talk to each other during the day. On my way to volleyball, I texted him: "Thinkin 'bout you 🙂." He responded, "Good luck at your game!" It was nice he remembered I had a game. He was showing a vested interest in my life, which is always a good sign. After volleyball, we texted a bit. He told me about how he didn't get the project he was counting on for work. I knew it meant a lot to him, so I tried to console him as best I could. I knew he would be depressed for a few days as a result because he was really looking forward to it. I called him, and we spoke on the phone. I also took the opportunity to ask if I would get to see him Friday night. It appeared things were back on the upswing, at least emotionally for me. The question remained. Would we continue moving up, or was it only a matter of time before things started sinking again? … During the whole ride, I had a lot of time to think. For me, this is deadly. When I have time to think, I crawl up into my own head and start digging around where I shouldn't be digging - This is why I lead such an active lifestyle. Thinking depresses me. A lot of thoughts about Smiles were going through my head. I was a little hurt and upset my advances were rejected in the morning. I also was very disappointed I didn't get to grab brunch with him. Overall, I guess you could technically deem the weekend with him a success, but I still wasn't thrilled. I was on unstable ground. I had no idea where I stood with him, and it was getting to me. As usual, I was over - thinking everything. When we got back to Hoboken, we stopped at the grocery store. I decided to call Smiles to see if he wanted to come over that night. I wanted to make him a nice home - cooked meal since he never cooks for himself. We always go out for dinner or order take - out. He agreed to come by. I also had ulterior motives. I wanted make - up sex for Saturday morning when I was denied. That evening, when he got off the PATH, I hopped on the motorcycle and rode down to pick him up. I was happy to finally get him out on the bike. He'd been on one before, so it wasn't as exciting as the first time I'd taken motorcycle virgins on the bike, but it was nice to have him so close to me. We rode back to my apartment with his arms tightly around me. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I started us off with some artichokes while the fillets finished grilling and the rest of the meal finished cooking. I made more food than the two of us could possibly finish. When we had our fill, I cleaned up, and we made our way to my bedroom for the night. He asked if he'd be spending the night. "Of course you're spending the night! Did you think I was going to kick you out now?" I responded. "I don't know. Some people need their rest before Monday morning," he said. I reminded him the size of the California king bed and assured him he wouldn't disturb my slumber. If anything, he
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would enhance it. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I started getting frisky. After not getting any the morning before, I was even more geared up for some great sex. We undressed each other and jockeyed for position once again. I wasn't making the same mistake again. I made sure I was in position to top this time. When I pulled out my night - stand drawer to get a condom and some lube, he made a comment about the large dinner and not sure it was a good idea. I surrendered, and we decided to use alternate methods. He climbed on top and used his hand behind his back. I was impressed with his ingenuity and his willingness to try alternate methods. However, it wasn't quite enough for me. It felt great, but I couldn't quite get over the final hump, as is my issue often. When I woke in the morning, I snuck quietly into my bathroom to shower so he could fall back asleep. If he wanted, I was going to let him sleep as long as he wished and just pull the door shut behind him. However, he had a few things he wanted to get to Monday morning, so he joined me on my morning commute. We casually walked to the PATH and hopped on. When the time came for him to get off, we exchanged a quick kiss. A lot was going through my mind before that. I was a little afraid to do it because I knew all eyes would be on me as soon as he got off. However, I was the one who initiated it. It was subconscious, but I wasn't going to let fear of others' reactions rule my actions anymore. I didn't care who knew I was gay anymore. I rode the rest of the way to work not making eye contact with others. I wasn't 100% comfortable in my own skin, but I was still growing with every day. Things were progressing nicely with Smiles, and they could only get better with added confidence. Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 17, 2011 After Smiles left for New York to return the rental car with the two other girls from the screening, I sat around waiting for my roommate to wake up. When I got bored with that, I hopped in the shower, repacked my bags and laid everything out to get ready for the wedding. The night before, I promised her I wouldn't wake her before 10: 30. Obviously, all that didn't take and hour and a half. Finally, the time came to wake her. I sat impatiently while she got ready. She suggested we go eat and come back to get ready for the wedding. I agreed. However, when we couldn't find a place to get brunch for about 45 minutes, we gave up and decided to go back to the house to get ready. We would grab breakfast at the first decent place we passed on the way to the wedding. I was ready in about 10 minutes and had to wait another 40 minutes until she finished getting ready. WOMEN! This always makes me realize part of the reason why I'm gay! I'm sure my straight male readers can relate to me on this one! We found a nice place to grab some great coffee and breakfast sandwiches. It was owned by a brother and sister pair far older than I. At one point, while talking to the gentleman in the booth behind us, they started to bicker. I put my head down and began to chuckle to myself. "Excuse me sir! I don't think this is very funny," the sister said towards me in a semi - joking tone. Now, I was laughing blatantly. "What's so funny?" she asked. I explained my relationship with my older sister and how I could easily relate to the brother. I immediately was on her bad side, but I could tell deep down she really liked me - It was all an act. Everyone was eying us up ever since we walked in the door. I was wearing a dapper suit and my roommate had on a hot dress. There was no way to simply blend in now. Once we got back on the road, I was reminded once again how bad a driver my roommate is. She was all over the road and scaring the crap out of me. In fact, as we approached a cop on the side of the road, she veered off the road once again. We got to the hotel and settled in. As we checked in, I noticed a guy in a tux (who I would later find to be the groom) who resembled me. I pointed him out to my roommate and she agreed. When the time came, we made our way to the church. We barely made it in time. We were actually running from the car. We made our way back to the hotel to hang out at the bar with my friends from college before we hopped on the bus to the reception. While closing my tab, the uncle of the bride asked me if I was a relative. I was a little perplexed since he was a relative. He should know if I was family. Then I
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realized there were two families coming together that day. I told him I swam with the bride in college. "Oh. You look a lot like the groom - Like you could be his brother or something," said this man. I laughed and said I noticed the resemblance as well. At the wedding reception, I really came to appreciate my roommate. As a gay man, I have limited resources for a wedding date since I wasn't in a relationship. I planned to go with another female teammate who is still a great friend, but she went and got pregnant on me so she couldn't travel. I floated the idea to my roommate to be my date months prior, and she jumped on the opportunity. She went to the same college as the bride and I, so I knew she'd fit right in. I witnessed another friend from college sitting at our table arrive to the wedding and the reception stag. We had quasi dated in college for a very short period. The bride actually tried to set us up. She was the only single person at our table (I'm not exactly sure how you get a table with an uneven number). I felt really bad for her, but I was also very happy I didn't show up stag myself. I got myself nice and lubricated with about half a bottle of scotch and had a blast the rest of the night. The only time my roommate and I weren't on the dance floor was to walk outside so we would stop sweating. Then, we'd make our way right back to the floor. The girl who came alone even came up to my roommate and made a comment about how lucky she was to have such a great wedding date (or so I was told later by my roommate). I had so much fun at this wedding - The most fun I'd had at any wedding I'd been to before. This is all for one reason. I had a great date! It makes all the difference. Who'd have thought taking your roommate to a wedding could be so much fun? After the reception, we went back to the hotel bar to hang out some more. The problem was, all my friends left, and my roommate and I were exhausted. Half an hour passed, and the bride was nowhere in sight. While we waited, I took the opportunity to text Smiles: "Sooooo much fun! Missing you!" We were ready to give up and go to bed, but not before we raided the cereal bar for a late night snack in our room. In the morning, we went down for the complimentary breakfast in hopes of seeing the bride again. I learned she wasn't coming down because they had to get on with their honeymoon plans. I also learned I missed her last night at the bar, had I only stayed a little longer. I also received a text while we ate from Smiles. "Morning! Glad you guys had fun. I wish I could have spent the afternoon out there with you!" It was a very nice sentiment, and it brightened my day a little.
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With self - publishing, you can publish as many books you want, as fast as you want, and the way you want to. The traditional publishing process can take years. You can start making money from self - publishing in as little as a few months. Agent Derek Turner from Covert Police Detectives Unit in Portland, Maine, is assigned to be her bodyguard. He goes home with her and her son to the Amish community where she was raised in Unity, Maine. Putting away her stalker is the most important thing to him, since that very same sex trafficking ring killed his wife for revenge two years ago. This short eBooks documents all the work at home jobs I have tried, even the ones that failed. I will give you my honest opinion on different online jobs and tell you of the scams I have come across. In the end, I'll tell you how I make money from home now and about the online courses I am taking to start my second home business. Agent Derek Turner from Covert Police Detectives Unit in Portland, Maine, is assigned to be her bodyguard. He goes home with her and her son to the Amish community where she was raised in Unity, Maine. Putting away her stalker is the most important thing to him, since that very same sex trafficking ring killed his wife for revenge two years ago. Police Detective Olivia Mast would rather run through gunfire than return to the Amish community of Unity, Maine, where she killed her abusive husband in self - defense. However, Liv begrudgingly dons her old prayer kapp and covertly investigates a murder there while protecting her old flame, Isaac Troyer, a potential target. The handsome cabinet maker falls in love with her once again, unaware that she carries a 9mm under her skirt. As the body count rises, Liv recruits Isaac to help her, but she has an important rule: to never let emotions, especially love, get in the way of her job. On a class trip to a crumbling castle, Naomi and her best friend Sierra find an ancient magic diary which takes them back in time to the medieval kingdom of Neveniell. Everyone in the castle realizes Naomi is their long lost princess, but not everyone rejoices. Someone covets her diary, even if it means assassinating the princess. After Sierra is injured with an arrow in the chaos of Naomi's abduction, Naomi doesn't wait for a knight in shining armor to bust her out of the enemy's dungeon. When her abusive ex - fiancé violently threatens her, Charlotte and her sister take refuge with their estranged Amish relatives on a tranquil farm in Unity, Maine. Soon after their arrival, the town experiences a rash of robberies. The community suspects Charlotte, but she fears her rampaging ex - fiancé has tracked her down to make her pay. Especially after her car is vandalized, her clothing is cut to shreds on the clothesline, and shadowy figures creep by her window at night. Hadassah was orphaned as a young child and raised in poverty by her older cousin Mordecai, but great things were destined for her. Blessed with incomparable beauty and grace, she is snatched from her home and taken to the castle with hundreds of other girls. The king of Persia will choose one of them as his queen, and he chooses her. They move from Brooklyn, New York to a small town in Maine, where she meets James and Janelle at school. James is captivated by Nichole's guarded personality and her passion for singing and playing the piano. Together they start a band and grow closer, but Nichole still feels empty, so she begins a dangerous, anonymous online relationship with a boy from school who only has bad intentions. Just as she begins to adjust to her new life, he betrays her. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live in an Old Order Amish community? This is the updated true story of my 4 visits to Unity, Maine where I lived with 3 remarkable Amish families. I went there to do research for my new Amish novel, The Ring Thief, and I did everything they did. I dressed like them, rode in buggies, helped make 100 quarts of applesauce, taught in their school house and even attended an Amish wedding. Join me on my fascinating Amish adventure! "This is a good perspective on the Amish. I have been to Lancaster County PA. and you can get a tour and visit the Amish attractions but this author went beyond internet research she actually lived with the Amish the only way you could go farther would be to become Amish for a longer period of time. A good book I read it in one afternoon." Lady Aria of Li - Aval feels like a prisoner, with a magnificent manor as her cage. Her father hides her from the rest of the world because Aria has hair like strands of gold. Literally, her hair is gold. When Aria's father tries to marry her off to an elderly man, she takes her deceased mother's necklace and runs away with her servant, Tina. They stumble upon Torenth, a city hidden behind a waterfall, and the Guardians welcome her into their castle like family. Lord Deric tries to win her heart, but Aria's eyes are on Owen, the shy blacksmith. Here are chapters of my newest book
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Amish Under Fire that you can read for FREE on Wattpad. (You have to get the Wattpad app to do this.) This book was a semifinalist in the So You Think You Can Write competition on Wattpad. Here's the link. Maria Mast waited in line at her bank in Portland, Maine, wearing a retro waitressing uniform she couldn't wait to change out of, the nametag printed with the word Kate. She removed it and tucked it away before anyone else could see it. The back of the dress advertised Miss Portland's Diner, and now she cringed at the thought of people knowing where she worked. The diner car restaurant looked as though it was straight out of the '40s with its marble countertops, hardwood booths and lively patterns. Kate Morgan. That's the name her checks from work were written out to. She'd had to lie to her boss about a lot of things, but she was grateful for the benevolent woman who had given her a job and hadn't asked too many questions. Like why Maria had shown up for her interview with bruises on her arms. Or why she didn't talk to anyone about her family or personal life. Or why she didn't make friends or trust anyone. Or why she glanced up nervously every time she heard the loud rumbling of a diesel truck pull into the parking lot. Maria lowered herself to the ground, watching as the gunman forced the woman to hand over all the cash available. Her heart seemed to have fallen into her stomach, and anxiety constricted her throat and chest. Maybe if they did what the men said, no one would get hurt. Her fingers reached up to her knee where her 9mm pistol was secured in its holster. She slid it out and rested her forefinger along the side of the gun, her heart pounding harder with every second. She clicked off the safety. A man a few people in line behind her caught her eye, seeing the gun, and gave her a nod. His eyes communicated to hers behind black - rimmed rectangle glasses, and his dark hair was gelled stylishly above a short, stubbly beard. When she hesitated, he nodded again and jerked his head ever so slightly to the robbers. "Look, the police!" the man shouted, his outburst making the two gunmen turn towards the window in a panic. In the two seconds of time he gave her, she aimed and fired, hitting the first gunman by the door in the leg. The man with the glasses lunged towards the other gunman who held the girl, knocking her out of the way, and after they moved, Maria hit that gunman in the leg also. Two other men in line leapt into action, swiping the weapons from the two robbers and restraining them as their screams of pain filled the air. The hours spent at the shooting range had paid off. She had traded some of her paintings for shooting lessons, and her instructor had told her she was a natural. And now, somehow, whatever plan this man with the glasses had had in mind had worked. He looked over at her, admiration radiating from him to her. The rest of the people in the bank turned to her, thanking her. Especially the girl's mother, who ran two her crying, throwing her arms around her in a hug. She had to get out of there. She pried the woman's hands off her and made a beeline for the door, then slammed into someone. Two strong hands steadied her as she looked up into the face of the handsome Glasses Man. "I'm Derek Turner, an agent of CPDU, but I'm off duty and didn't have my gun on me today. You just saved that girl's life, and we now have the criminals under control. So what's wrong?" he asked, peering in to her eyes, so close for comfort that she wriggled out of his grasp. Everyone dropped everything at Benson's sharp tone. Field Agent Derek Turner had just sat down at his desk to make a few reports from an arrest he had made earlier that day. Now it would have to wait. When Benson said' now, 'he meant now. All the officers, analysts and agents milled into the situation room, and Benson cleared his throat as everyone quieted down. "We have received some information on a sex trafficking ring in Portland. We think it might be the same ring that we tried to shut down last year." Derek remembered the case well. CPDU had managed to arrest several johns. But the most of the johns and the boss of the trafficking ring had relocated themselves as well as all the girls they had kidnapped, and then the trail had gone cold. "We think the ring has returned to Portland, possibly after relocating to Boston. We received a tip call from someone at the Maine Mall. The mall suspects that there are men there in their early twenties who are luring in teenage girls by flattering them, spending time with them at the mall then offering to drive them home or to a movie, but instead of bringing them home the men just brings them to the trafficking headquarters. Four girls have gone missing this month at the mall alone." Benson tugged on his belt that was
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snug under his round belly. "I need to assign four agents to go undercover on a mission. We think the traffickers might be keeping the girls temporarily somewhere in Portland. We are trying to pinpoint the location. I need four men to go in and pose as potential 'buyers' while gathering information." Benson made quotation marks with his fingers, making no effort to hide his disgust. Rage against the traffickers boiled Derek's own blood, but he listened intently as Benson continued. "Martin, Banks, Rogers and Smith, I will tell you the details of the mission after this meeting." As Benson continued speaking, Derek tried to listen. Instead, he slowly tuned Benson out, memories taking over his mind. The blood on the white carpet of his apartment, Natalia's bruised body lying skewed and broken on the floor … Everyone stood up and Derek silently chided himself. The meeting was over and he had zoned out. He hoped he didn't miss any important information. He'd ask Officer Martin about it later. Wait. He hadn't been chosen to go on the mission. He was one of the best field agents in the unit. Why hadn't Benson chosen him? Annoyed, he maneuvered his six foot frame through the people trying to leave the room and walked up to the captain. "No, Turner. It's not anything you did wrong. It's just … The mission will take place on the two year anniversary of your wife's death. I just didn't want you to be distracted, that's all. You are human, just like the rest of us, and distraction can lead to fatal mistakes," Benson said, sidling past him. "Remember last year?" Derek nodded solemnly. He had been so distracted by grief he had almost let a suspect escape custody. "That was last year. I won't make the same mistake again." "A woman just walked in here, Maria Mast. She claims her ex - boyfriend is abusing her, and he is one of the guys we think might be on the mall security footage who is taking teenage girls. She is Detective Olivia Troyer's cousin, who has been temporarily transferred to work on a case. Go talk to her and get as much information from her as you can. Let's arrest this trafficker," Benson said, tugging on his belt once more, his bald head gleaming in the light from the ceiling. "Report to me after. Go." Benson turned to the four agents he had picked and began discussing the details of the mission. When he saw his friend Jefferson Martin as one of the chosen, Derek could not deny that he felt a twinge of guilt. They had worked together for a few years now. Martin was a good in the field, but Derek knew he was even better. Even though he was only twenty - nine, Derek already had more experience than many of the other agents, thanks to his service in the military. The slender young woman walked towards him. Her long hair was highlighted a lovely shade of honey blonde, falling in loose curls that framed her beautiful face. She wore a simple gray sweater dress that might as well have been a ball gown, it looked so wonderful on her. Her brown eyes held fear, hurt and secrets as she walked towards him, her black heels clacking on the marble floor. She was a sight to behold. She was the woman from the bank who had saved the little girl. But her nametag had said Kate at the bank. Was her real name Maria? "You told them where I worked, didn't you? You saw that I worked at Miss Portland's Diner from my uniform?" Fear shadowed her already dark eyes, making him wonder just exactly what she was afraid of. "Actually, I didn't because you seemed like you didn't want any recognition. There were plenty of people in that bank. Someone else must have told them." "Well, whoever told them, the reporters found me at work and put me on TV even though I ran away, covering my face. And that's why I'm here. I need help." This woman intrigued him more and more. "I'm assuming this is why your nametag didn't say your real name. Follow me, please." He began to lead her to his cubicle, awkwardly clearing his throat, which suddenly felt like it had a cotton ball in it. "Is there someone who could watch my son while we speak?" Maria asked. Quietly she added, "I don't want him to hear what we will be discussing." "Oh, I understand. You can leave him with Betty," Derek said, turning to the woman at the desk. "Would you mind watching him while I speak to Ms. Mast?" "His name is Carter," Maria said, then turned to her son. "Stay with this nice lady for a few minutes until I'm done, okay? Listen to whatever she tells you." Maria followed Derek to his desk and sat down in the chair he offered her. She looked at him as he settled into his chair. His dark eyes searched
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hers, his thick dark eyebrows drawn in concentration. "Yes. Trevor Monroe. He was verbally abusive, but now he is also physically abusive." She pulled back her thick hair to show Derek bruises on her neck. "He has been to jail for the abuse before, but was bailed out. I don't know who did it. None of his friends seem to have that kind of money." Most of his violence is directed towards me when we were together. Though I was not living with him, I broke up with him two years ago and left him, and I moved and have been working under a fake identity. After he saw me on the news the other day, he went to the diner where I work and asked my coworkers where I live, even though I asked them not to tell anyone where I live. He could charm the socks off anyone and get anyone to tell him what he wants to know. Well, last night he found me and attacked me. I had a protection order, but he was gone before the police get there and they haven't been able to catch him. He's too quick, too smart. "" Many women do not report their partner's abuse because they are too afraid or they think it is their own fault. You were brave to report him. However, if he had been arrested again before today, we may not have found a connection between him and the sex trafficking ring in Portland, "Derek's deep voice rumbled as he leaned forward on his desk. He crossed his tan, muscular arms in front of him. Maria looked away, as a lovely blush rose to her cheeks." Do you know if your ex has been involved in human trafficking? "" What are you talking about? "she said, making a production out of smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of her skirt. It was a sign of nervousness. Was she hiding something?" No. I don't think so. Trevor may be violent, but he would never do anything like that, "she said, coming to her ex's rescue. Sadly, it was typical. Battered women often defended their abusers. Sometimes women even wanted to go back to their abuser after leaving them, believing that they needed their abusive partner to love them, falling prey to the abuser's brainwashing. He was thankful she hadn't waited too long to make a report." Well, we think we might have Trevor on Maine Mall surveillance footage luring teenage girls to get into cars with him so he can drive them to a sex trafficking hideout, "Derek told her." He may be guilty of kidnapping, among other crimes. He'd go to jail for a long time if we can prove it. Much longer than if he was only charged with domestic abuse. This time, he would stay in jail for good. "Her eyes doubled in circumference." You really think it's him? "Then she said more to herself," He would really do something like that? I mean, I know he is cruel, but this is so despicable … "" We should also have more solid evidence. Like a recording. We can come to your house to install surveillance, "Derek said, even though he knew in his gut that Trevor was guilty of abuse as well as kidnapping." I could arrest him for domestic violence now, and endangering the welfare of a child, but he might go to jail for a much shorter amount of time. I have an idea. If you don't want to do it, I completely understand. "" It might be better for you if we wait and also arrest him for kidnapping. If we can also prove he was involved in the trafficking, he'd go to jail for a very, very long time, and then you'd be safe. You might be able to help us follow him to the trafficking hideout. Where do you live? "" Here's my idea. What do you think about using him to help us find the kidnapped girls? "He felt horrible even asking her, but as soon as he got the words out, her eyes lit up with hope." Yes, I want to do whatever I can to help. Just tell me what I have to do. "For the first time since he had met her, she looked hopeful. For a moment, all the shadows of worry that shrouded her face were lifted. And she was delightful." Excellent. We would really appreciate your help, Ms. Mast. We've been trying to find out where he lives, and we can't figure out where he lives. Do you know where he lives? "he asked." Okay … That explains it. Here's what you'll have to do. We're going to set a trap. For the next week or two, we will have a patrol car parked and hidden by your house, waiting for the next time he goes there. Then we will follow him. Hopefully he will eventually lead us to the where the girls are, and we might be able to use him to shut down this entire trafficking ring. Write down your address here, "he said, handing
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her a pen and paper. "I know this will be hard, but you could help save several girls from slavery." She nodded slowly, writing. "I understand, Agent Turner. I'm glad to help. And actually, I can get him to come to my house tonight. Last time he attacked me he made it pretty clear that he wanted me back, and that he thinks he owns me. I can invite him over for dinner tonight to 'talk about our relationship,'" she said, looking up at him shyly. Now that she was closer, he could see flecks of gold in her soft brown eyes. He knew there must be so many untold stories and secrets hidden within her, and he had to admit, he was curious. He wondered how many times she had tried to leave her ex - boyfriend, and about the many times he had threatened to kill her that made her so afraid of him. "Yes, Ms. Mast. As I said, if he goes to jail now, we might not be able to convict him of kidnapping also. So, if he hurts you tonight he will go to jail for domestic violence, but if we can follow him home, he might lead us to the ring, and you would be safe for good once we arrest him for kidnapping. Here's a card for CPDU," he said, handing her a business card. He went even further by giving her his own personal number. "And in fact, I will ask to be the one in the patrol car near your house. And I can send someone to go put surveillance in your house right now if you are going home. This is my cell phone number. Call me anytime, night or day. Whatever you need, I'd be glad to help." Maria's almond - shaped eyes swept the cards, then she looked up at him, a little more confident now. "Thank you, Agent Turner, but I'm sure about this. We'll talk soon." She stood up and he walked her out, watching as Carter's face lit up when he saw his mother. The small boy ran to Maria and hugged her slim waist. "Well, her ex - boyfriend definitely attacked her and is abusive, all right. But I knew that the more concrete evidence she had, the better. She agreed to let us install surveillance in her house, and she agreed to help us. She will let us know when he leaves the house so we can try to follow him to the trafficking hideout." "That's a great idea. He could lead us right to where they are keeping the victims, maybe even the boss! She seriously agreed to doing this? Did you tell her if she feels uncomfortable that she doesn't have to do it?" "She was glad to help. And with your permission I would like to be the one in the patrol car outside her house, starting tonight." He remembered the tortured look in her eyes, and wondered if she'd be okay tonight. If anything happened, he would be right there for her. The Amish are a truly amazing, kind and smart group of people, as you will discover as you read this book. The Amish church began hundreds of years ago, but the Amish today are not very different from the ones who lived back then. (I won't get into the history. See the end of this book for recommendations on other books about the Amish.) For many people, the only things they know about the Amish are what they have learned from movies or Amish romance novels. These can sometimes stereotype or falsely portray the Amish. People think they are quaint and / or naïve, but they are far from naïve and living their lives is hard work. (Believe me, I know. I worked a lot during my stay.) They live the way they do for a reason. In the Bible God calls his followers to live "separate from the world." While most Christians would think that meant not doing some things other people do, the Amish take it literally. In fact, they take many of the things in the Bible literally. (You will learn more about this when I write about my visit to the Amish church.) The Amish do indeed live separate from the world not only by their location, but in the way they dress, pray, travel, and almost every other aspect of their lives. I think the Amish understand and know just as much or even more about the world than regular people. They separate themselves from the rest of the world, ignore strange looks from people and go without modern conveniences to honor God with their lives. They are hard workers, and family and friendship is so more important to them then material objects. They do not need any thing to be happy, and I could tell that they are happy. I highly admire and respect them. Growing up, I suppose like most people I knew the Amish dressed old fashioned, but I didn't really know why. About a year ago my mother gave me some Amish novels and I was hooked. (Later on I would learn that many of the books I read
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are banned by Amish parents.) I became completely fascinated with the ways of the Amish. I just wanted to learn more about them. In case you don't know much about the Amish, here is some basic information on them. The Amish (not to be confused with Mennonites) live very simple lives. The Amish believe being content with a simple life is important because God looks at the heart, and God needs to be first in one's life - not possessions. That is why they do not need materialistic things to be happy. There are the Old Order Amish, who live without electricity and vehicles, and there are the New Order Amish, who may own vehicles or use electricity. Each Amish community is different and has different ways and rules. I will be writing about the Amish community in Unity, Maine, which is an Old Order community. I wrote this book from my own observations and experiences with the Amish people I stayed with and met there. Again, every Amish community is different. Most of this was written in a notebook as I was living in Unity. Last names have been left out in respect of the people I met in Unity, even though they did not ask me to do this. If you would like to call (they share a community phone) or write a letter to an Amish family I met in Unity, you may contact me at ashleyjoylowell @ yahoo. com so I can give you their contact information with their permission. You may also contact me if you have further questions for me that were not answered in this book. * * To see lots of pictures from my stay with the Amish, find me on Facebook. They are all posted on my profile. I will also soon be adding letters from the Amish to my Facebook profile under the "notes" section. I don't want to join the Amish. I want to research for a novel I want to write about a girl who has to go live with her Amish aunt and uncle she never knew she had after her parents die. I just need to go to a place where I can get away from worldly distractions and get to know God better. I need to be thrown out of my comfort zone and learn to live without everything I'm used to: electricity, chaos and doing things the quick and easy way. I want to know what its like to leave everything familiar and have to live with a family I don't know in a plain community. The driveway to Caleb's house was extremely slippery. Our car barely made it up. I didn't know how they walked it without falling. As a young girl watched from the house's front window, we parked inevitably near some horse manure embellishing the ground. We had to step over it to get out of the car. We grabbed our bags and went inside the house. We got there right after Caleb and Beth. They could walk quickly! The first thing I saw were three beautiful dark haired girls in pale blue and gray dresses sitting on a couch. Once I got a better look I realized one of the girls was Caleb's wife. She was so petite she looked just like one of her daughters. She was holding their newborn baby. They told us to put our bags by the door, and we put our coats on the sewing machine. I was surprised to see that the room's walls had been painted with light blue, and the kitchen's walls were light yellow. To our left was a huge quilt in progress being held up on a wooden contraption that resembled a table with the quilt as the table top. In the corner near the quilt was the sewing machine. There was a door leading to what looked like a play room with stuffed animals on a bench. To the right of that was a bookcase with encyclopedias and board games like Monopoly and Apples to Apples. Straight ahead was the couch, which had a blue pattern on it but was covered with a white sheet. There was no clutter. The walls were bare save for a clock and a calendar. There were hardly any pictures. To our right was a long, plastic topped kitchen table. I could hear a chopping sounds and pots and pans clanging. Caleb's daughters bustled around, already making dinner. From where I stood I could see the back of the gas stove, and I could feel its heat. One of the girls took a lighter from Caleb and lit the gas light above the table, which also gave off heat and surprisingly bright light. One of the other girls brought us chairs that were on wheels, but had been covered with plain gray fabric. We sat down and all the children were introduced to us. Regina, who is eighteen, is the oldest. Then there is Cara, who is the most outgoing. Then there is Beth, who is fifteen. Then Elsie, Rosaline, Mary Esther, Joanna, two - year old Jonas, and baby Emma Sue. Their mother's name was Rosie. The girls went back to making dinner while the younger ones quietly read. My mother, Caleb, Rosie and I talked. My mom and I told them about our family and how we homeschooled and I had gone to Veritas Academy for high school, which only had
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eight people in it at the time. When they asked us what we did for a living, I had to be honest. "Mostly I go to elderly ladies homes and wash their hair for them if they are unable to. And I cut men's hair," I said. Since the women do not cut their hair, I left out that I do many women's haircuts. I also left out everything else, like hair coloring and highlighting and manicures and pedicures. I knew this was coming. I hadn't really come up with an answer ahead of time that I thought they would want to hear. I was going to be honest, of course. I guessed I couldn't avoid the real reason why I was here. "Yes, that's me. I write novels. I want to write a novel about a girl from the city whose parents die and she has to live with her Amish aunt and uncle she never knew she had." "See, usually Amish novels don't portray us correctly," said Rosie, shifting the baby in her arms. "I don't let my daughters read them. They are always about romance." I didn't understand what she meant then, but later on Christina would explain to me the process of Amish dating. It is not secretive or scandalous, like in many Amish romance novels. Amish dating is serious and usually leads to marriage. "I write Christian novels," I said. "That is why I am here. I want to learn as much as I can about the Amish so that I can write my book correctly. I want to get everything right." "My father was a writer," he said. He went on to tell us about his father, who had died at the young age of fifty - five and had left Caleb the store. He wrote a book called Give Me This Mountain. After we talked for a while Rosie told us we could bring our bags upstairs and see the rest of the house. Regina led us up the stairs and showed us our room first. It had blue walls, a queen bed, a chest by the window and a nightstand with a kerosene lamp on it. There was also a closet with spare dresses in it. Then there was the bathroom. We were happy to see a toilet and a shower, but the sink had not been installed yet. They had been renovating the bathroom recently. Regina showed us the rest of the girls' rooms. I was surprised to see mirrors and perfume and lotion in their rooms. I wondered why they are allowed to use those things but not makeup. My guess was that makeup alters the appearance and lotions and perfumes do not. Soon dinner was ready and we set the table. They used plastic dishes that were a cross between bowls and plates. I noticed they did not use napkins. They had started making dinner around 4pm, when we got there, and we finished cleaning up around 7pm. Dinner was a three hour event. It was so good! They made the mashed potatoes, gravy with meat in it, a green bean casserole, corn, and we had the bread my mom had brought with jelly. After we were finished eating they sang "God Our Father." Mom and I didn't know it so we just listened, and it was so beautiful. Even the little children sang every word. "I like to draw." It was the only thing I could think of that didn't involve electricity or dancing or instruments, which are all things they are against. "Do you draw?" They younger children do not even speak English very well. They speak only Pennsylvania Dutch (the form of German the Amish speak) until they are around 9, when they start to speak English. But I made funny voices for the characters and I tried to be animated, so they smiled, even if they might have not completely understood what I was saying. It was strange to see the girls walking around in their long dresses and Kapps, which I had only seen before on movies or the covers of books. I was surprised by how normal these people were. They are so similar to us. They share many of the same interests. If not for the clothes, I would have thought they were any other regular Christian family. I learned that there is a Singing tomorrow at 6pm, but we heard it is supposed to snow at 12pm. I hope we can still go. A Singing is when the community gathers to sing for a few hours, and sometimes Amish boys will give rides home to girls they like. It is kind of like their way of going on a date. It sounds like fun, and I hope I can go. Mom managed to talk to the family about things the Amish are against without even realizing it. I did a lot of research before coming here so I knew what things they disagree with, but Mom didn't. for example, she told them about how my younger sisters do Soldier's Angels, which is writing to troops overseas. The Amish are completely against war. She asked them if there would be coffee in the morning, and I was surprised when they said they made coffee regularly. Mom
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was very happy about this. We discussed how we would travel to church in the morning. My mom offered rides in her car, and Caleb said he would let his girls ride in it if they wanted to. Caleb says it is not a sin to own a car but they believe it is better to own buggies because you have to really plan a trip with a buggy. I don't see why this makes it better to own a buggy. I guess it is all about being content with what you have. There is a dark, secret side to everyone I suppose, but mine might be darker than most. On the outside I may look like a sweet and innocent high school student, but my insides are constantly twisted into knots of regret and despair. I am haunted by a past of violence and a deadly secret that I am scared to tell. I'm scared that once people discover what I've done they will brand me with the scarlet letter of a murderer. Why wouldn't they? My secret is a deadly one. I lock it away in the far corners of my mind in attempt to forget about it … but it still lingers like a bad smell. I can't forget about it. It's always there, and it's become a part of me. You see, I killed my own father. I didn't mean to, but I took his life while trying to protect my mother and me from his violence. Self - defense is not murder, so technically I am not a murderer. However, I feel like one, and people have called me one. How could anyone love a murderer like me? It didn't matter. She came to school to learn, not make friends. She was determined to get the highest grades so she could get a scholarship and go to college for music. Her dream was to be a famous singer and songwriter, and if that didn't work out, she would be a music teacher, which she knew she would also love doing. Now she walked into her literature class, her favorite class. Nichole felt like she could focus on other people's problems that were in the stories instead of her own. She sat in her usual desk and put down her backpack. As other students chatted around her, she stared out the window and ignored them until the teacher arrived. After school, Nichole quietly stuck her key into the lock and let herself into her family's apartment. As usual, she crept in through the door, trying not to wake her father. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. Getting something from the kitchen would only risk awakening him and facing his fury. She tiptoed past the living room where the monster was sleeping in his lair and went to her room to do her homework. Nichole's father Harold stirred in his recliner. Helen and Nichole exchanged nervous looks. His stirring graduated to muttering and soon he was awake and standing in the kitchen. "Harold, I told you we can't afford it any more. I used the money to buy food," Helen replied. There was no warning. Suddenly Harold's hand was flying towards Nichole and her cheek felt the sting. Helen fumbled with her keys and looked at Nichole sadly as she made her way out the door. This was the last night they had to endure his violence. Tonight they were leaving him so they could go live with Nichole's aunt and uncle in Maine. Later on that night, Nichole grabbed a duffle bag and starting throwing in clothes. Helen was already done with packing her things, and now she was in the kitchen. Nichole watched from her slightly ajar door as her mother took some medication that would make Harold sleep. Helen had never done this before. It was her new idea. Nichole hoped the plan wouldn't go wrong as she mixed the medicine in the beer and handed it to Harold. He began to drink. Nichole waited for him to taste the medicine. Ten seconds went by. A minute went by and he was still drinking. Nichole assumed he couldn't taste anything and she resumed her packing. The car's tank was full, their bags were packed, and Nichole's father was sound asleep. She was hopeful that they would make it. Helen didn't have to tell Nichole to be quiet as they went out into the hallway. Helen already held her bag, and Nichole carried hers as she followed her mother into the kitchen. They tiptoed past Harold who was now snoring in his chair. The front door was almost in reach now. Helen grabbed her daughter's hand and pulled her towards the door. Nichole followed without hesitation. Even before they could reach the door Nichole's father had seen them with their bags and figured out what was going on. He clumsily got out of his chair, stumbling in the process. Then he was upon them. He was about to strike Nichole when her mother threw herself at Harold and tried to hold him back. Harold had never been on medication like this before. He was more furious than normal. Nichole knew he was going to hurt her mother badly. Nichole scrambled to her feet as fast as she could. She pulled at his arms but he just shoved her away. Nichole fell on the floor
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again but quickly got to her feet. She looked around frantically for something, anything to stop him with. Anything … Nichole's eyes fell on the new set of knives on the counter. That's too dangerous, she thought as her father attacked her mother. Nichole realized he was so intoxicated and angry that he might kill Helen. She was not going to let it happen. Nichole grabbed the knife and gripped the handle with white knuckles. She shouted at her father, "Stop!" Nichole's booming voice did not seem like her own. It was too authoritative, too confident. Harold stopped to look at her. He swayed a little as his angry eyes stared into Nichole's. "You think that'll scare me?" he seethed. "I know you'd never come near me with that." Harold began to attack Nichole's mother again and that's when Nichole lost control of her anger. Nichole fought him and did everything she could without using the knife. She didn't want to hurt him. What happened next was a blur. The next thing Nichole knew her father threw a wooden chair at her, but he missed and it landed in front of her. Harold came at Nichole, eyes blazing with rage. He swayed dizzily. He tripped over the chair and fell on Nichole. She automatically put up her hands in front of her to protect herself. They crashed to the crashed to the floor. After a second she shoved her father off of her, not yet fully realizing what had happened. Then she saw the blood … and the gash across his throat. He was not breathing. Frantically she felt his pulse and there was no heartbeat. She almost choked on fear as she just stared at him. Then she remembered her mother. Nichole forced herself to calm down then lifted herself off the floor and made her way to Helen. Nichole wasn't sure if her mother was conscious. "My mother is badly injured. I think she has some broken bones. My father has hurt her terribly," Nichole cried. "My father … I killed him. I didn't mean to. I had a knife and he tripped and fell on me. I was just trying to protect my mother from him." Saying it out loud made everything real. Nichole gave the phone operator all the information necessary as she sank onto the cold tiles. She collapsed beside her feeble mother, who closed her eyes. A few tears slid down Nichole's cheeks along with drops of blood from a cut on her forehead, which would always be a painful reminder of what she had done. Nichole gave the phone operator all the information necessary as she sank onto the cold tiles. She collapsed beside her feeble mother, who closed her eyes. A few tears slid down Nichole's cheeks along with drops of blood from the cut on her forehead, which would always be a painful reminder of what she had done. Helen had wanted to prove that her husband was abusive for a long time. He had always been careful to hit her somewhere that wouldn't show until the last time he beat her. Since they were going to try to leave him, Helen had put a voice recorder in the cabinet and set it on record right before they tried to leave. She had the entire thing recorded to show to the court as evidence. It proved Nichole had killed her father out of self - defense, and self - defense is not murder. Nichole was found not guilty, according to the court. However, she still felt guilty. Nichole's father's death haunted her. She felt like a murderer. When she closed her eyes she would still see his blazing stare, the knife, the blood … and the nightmares were even worse. Nichole would never see a knife the same way again. Helen and Nichole were both sure that Harold would have killed Helen if Nichole had not stepped in. So, in a way, she regretted what she had done, yet at the same time Nichole felt relief. Nichole had saved her mother. She would never have to fear her father's violence again. She was free. "You really should take it easy, Mom," Nichole told her mother several days after the incident of her father's death. "The doctor said you could go back to work, but I don't think he realized you'd be working long hours." Nichole brought her mother a plate of food for dinner and poured her some water. "We need to save some more extra money for our trip to Maine." Helen rubbed tired eyes, then rubbed her ribs and winced where one of the ribs had been broken. She took a long drink of the water and sighed, then dug into her plate of chicken and rice that Nichole had made. "Don't worry, sweetie. Once we get to Maine, things will get easier. And you've been such a big help working at the grocery store and helping me out around the house." Nichole leaned over the counter and let out a long breath. She knew Helen was stressed. It was all over her face. Nichole knew it wasn't stressed from work, which was what she blamed it on. She wasn't working any more than she had
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been before. A few years ago, Harold had ended up getting fired after walking into work drunk one day and didn't bother looking for another job after that. Helen was a banker and made enough money to support the family while Nichole helped with her job at the local supermarket. Though Helen was distracted by something she also seemed more relaxed. She used to always be so tense, always anticipating what Harold would get angry about next. Now it was like she could just relax and not worry about him. However, Nichole knew there was something else on Helen's mind, like she wanted to tell Nichole something but didn't know how. Like she was carrying around a secret. After she cleaned up from dinner, Nichole sat at her window of the apartment, wondering what Maine would be like. Even though they didn't have to leave Nichole's father anymore, Helen still wanted to go there. She wanted to get out of the city, but Nichole wasn't sure if she wanted to. The city was far below Nichole's window. The familiar sounds were like music to her ears: sirens, horns honking, people talking, the whoosh of passing cars. Smells of roasted nuts and hot dogs from street vendors wafted up to Nichole. People meandered down the dirty, trash lined streets. Some would call Brooklyn filthy and too crowded, but Nichole called it home. She loved all the commotion and excitement of the fast paced life. She loved the graffiti on the buildings, the chill of the subways, and all the people going this way and that. She was used to this life. She had never been anywhere else. How could she leave this all behind? Yet, this apartment held more bad memories than good. Maybe moving to Maine would be the right thing. Maybe it wasn't as country as everyone said … or maybe it was. The more Nichole thought about it, the more she wanted to go. As she walked through the apartment, the memories of her father were everywhere … and the blood stains wouldn't wash out of her mind. Even though she shut her eyes, the memories were still there. Helen came in Nichole's room. "Nichole, you should start packing soon. I'm sorry if you don't want to go … but I can't stay here any longer," Helen said with concern in her blue eyes as she handed Nichole some boxes. Nichole took a look around. There wasn't much in her room, just a bed with an old quilt her mom had made, a dresser, a closet … However, now Nichole could take everything that was important with her now instead of only one bag. One of her favorite things was her old radio. Nichole couldn't afford an MP3 player, but who needs one when you have a radio? She listened to all types of music: hip hop, classical, rock, especially country. Even though she couldn't really relate to all that talk of wide open spaces and green tractors, it was still music. She loved almost any kind of music. Nichole had head phones that she had plugged into her radio to tune out everything else … especially her father. Now she didn't need to. There was that feeling again … a mix between relief and guilt and shame. Nichole willed it away and tried to distract herself by turning on her radio. A country song began to play. Soon she was singing and packing energetically. Maybe moving wouldn't be so bad. Nichole didn't have any friends at school. She guessed they thought she was weird. She was shy and didn't talk to someone unless they talked to her first. She thought it would be hard to make friends with someone like her. As she continued to sing, something struck her as hard as a subway train. Nichole wanted to be a famous singer. She knew it was a crazy dream that would probably never come true, but how could she ever get discovered in Maine? It's not like she had developed a master plan to becoming famous, but being in Maine definitely would not help. There was no point in telling her mother. She'd just say, "Sweetie, I don't think being a singer is for you. You're great at so many other things. You're great at English, and I also think you could be a banker one day. Bankers don't need to go to college. You need to think about what's best for you and what will allow you to make enough money to support yourself." Either way, Nichole knew they had to move to Maine. Maine was where Helen and Harold had grown up. Helen had always talked about how beautiful it was there. Nichole's aunt and uncle lived on a little farm. They had chickens and horses. Nichole's uncle worked at the car dealership downtown, and my Aunt Lynn worked at the local bank. She was the one who had helped Helen get a job there. Maybe this would just be a temporary thing. Yes, she thought. It won't be long until Mom realizes how much she misses the city and we'll be right back here. She sat by her window for one last long look at her beloved city. Then she looked up beyond
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the skyscrapers. "If there really is someone out there watching over this world," she said, "I ask only one thing. Could you send me a friend or two? Maybe even someone who will love me someday? I don't want the kind of marriage my mother had. All I ask for is someone who will love me unconditionally." Many miles away from Brooklyn, James Johnson looked out his window at the green hills and forests in his backyard. All he could hear were chirping birds and the wind. Maine was certainly different than the city, and he liked it that way. It was hard to live up to the expectations of a pastor's kid. He felt like the congregation expected him and his twin sister Janelle to be perfect. He wondered how the church would react if they knew James used to steal cars with his friends, and how much he regretted it and the death it led to. Why had James insisted on stealing that particular car? Why had he run and left his friend Johnny behind? For the hundredth time, James wished he could go back in time and make the right choice even though he knew he couldn't. James knew God had forgiven him and healed him. Now he was close to his Creator. Normally James didn't feel the ache of regret, but some days he felt it more than others. Today was one of those days. Today marked two years since his best friend's death that James blamed himself for. If only someone understood what James was going through. James looked heavenward and prayed. Please God, could you send me someone who understands this pain? Better yet, could you send me someone I can help get through their pain by using my experiences? Nichole groggily opened her eyes to see trees, a house, and gigantic fields of grass. There were only a few houses around. So these were wide open spaces that were like the ones in the country songs. There was even a barn and chickens running around. Perfect. Then Nichole realized the lack of noise. There was no traffic, no taxis, no people on the streets, no sirens, no chaos. It was bizarre. There was only the sound of the breeze, chickens clucking and horses neighing from the barn. Now that Nichole was wide awake, she stepped out of the car to look around. Then who she assumed was her Aunt Lynn burst out of the yellow house, which looked like it had been through one too many winters. Aunt Lynn had a huge smile on her face as she ran down the paint chipped steps. She gave Nichole and Helen huge bear hugs. Of course. Who else would she be? Nichole just nodded. Aunt Lynn hugged Nichole again. Nichole could barely breathe or hear from being so compressed. Aunt Lynn rambled on about how glad she was they made it and how much fun they'd have, and something about dinner on the stove. Then she was all but dragging Nichole and Helen inside. The house was three times bigger than Nichole's apartment had been. It was nice on the inside. It looked like it had just been redone. There was a shiny wood floor with a new sofa. Nichole looked on the wall and jumped in surprise. There was a duck on the wall! And a fish … and half a deer! How could anyone kill something and be proud of it? This thought led Nichole to the memories of killing her father. She shuddered and pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Aunt Tess didn't answer because Nichole's uncle made a grand entrance. "Nichole, is that you?" Uncle Dean asked, smiling at her. "I hope you don't mind all my taxidermy. I know you're not used to seeing stuff like that." He put a friendly arm around Nichole and ushered her to the kitchen. "Come on. Let's eat. My best moose burgers are for dinner." "Here is your room," Aunt Lynn said after dinner as she opened the door. Nichole stepped into her new bedroom. On the floor was a white carpet. There was pretty white furniture and a neatly made bed with a blue blanket. The light blue walls had a horse patterned border running along them near the ceiling. There were even little horses scattered across the walls, and it almost looked to me like they were really running. Of course, Nichole wouldn't know. She had never seen a real horse before. Nichole set her bag down on the desk and nodded enthusiastically. This was the nicest bedroom she had ever seen. "I love it. It's really cute." Actually, for the first time in her life, she felt like she was home. Truly home. She had called Brooklyn home, but now that just felt like a stop along the way. Now Nichole had people who cared about her. These people who wouldn't hurt her, they would love her. That in itself was home. She unzipped her bag and pulled out her radio, then turned on the tunes. Nichole put away all her clothes in the big closet and white dresser. She finished putting away all her other things, and finally she was done. This was a whole new life. She could
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start over here. No one would know who she really was at her old school. Nichole could be whoever she wanted. She could try to forget her past. Nichole walked to the mirror on the wall and looked into it. All she saw was the scar on her forehead. The knife and the blood tore at her memory, even after she shut her eyes. She shivered. Was the scar all people would see when they looked at her? Nichole got a pair of scissors from the kitchen and before she could stop herself, strands of her long brown hair were falling to the floor. The hair that used to be long and fall in her face was now bangs that hid her scar perfectly. Now no one would ask her about it. After dinner Nichole grabbed a teal sweatshirt and made her way downstairs. At dinner Aunt Lynn had mentioned the horses in the barn and Nichole wanted to see them. Nichole had never thought the day would come where she, a city girl, would see a real horse on a real farm in the country. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her as she stepped out into the chilly evening. The sun had almost set and was smearing red and orange streaks across the fading blue sky like finger paint. Nichole reached the barn and heard the whinnying before she pulled open the red, rickety doors. They all looked at Nichole like she was an intruder, but she barely noticed because she was surprised by how huge they were. Nichole passed every stall and read the names on the stall doors. Redneck, Velvet, Elephant … well, her aunt and uncle sure had a sense of humor when it came to naming horses. Enter your e - mail below to receive ALL my future eBooks for free, plus 3 free eBooks instantly: Legit Work at Home Jobs, Finding Forgiveness (a novel) and a sample of Ashley's Amish Adventures. PLUS the printable Book Launch and Marketing Checklist that goes along with my new eBook, Fearless Author. What email should I send the free eBooks to? Use your best one so you don't miss them! I hate spam as much as you do and will only send e - mails when my new books are published or I want to share valuable content with you (like free eBooks). I will never share your information with anyone else. Please make sure you use your main e - mail. Important note: You will soon get an e - mail with the links you need to download your books after you confirm your subscription. If you don't get it after a few minutes, try refreshing your e - mail and checking your email's Promotions folder. If you have a question, e - mail me at amishbookwriter. com. Thanks! ENJOY!!! | Theme: Dyad by WordPress. com. Enter your e - mail below to receive ALL my future eBooks for free, plus 3 free eBooks instantly: Legit Work at Home Jobs, Finding Forgiveness (a romantic suspense novel) and a sample of Ashley's Amish Adventures. PLUS the printable Book Launch and Marketing Checklist that goes along with my new eBook, Fearless Author. What email should I send the free eBooks to? Use your best one so you don't miss them! I hate spam as much as you do and will only send e - mails when my new books are published or I want to share valuable content with you (like free eBooks). I will never share your information with anyone else. Please make sure you use your main e - mail. Important note: You will soon get an e - mail with the links you need to download your books after you confirm your subscription. If you don't get it after a few minutes, try refreshing your e - mail or checking your email's Promotions Folder. If you have a question, e - mail me at amishbookwriter. com. Thanks! ENJOY!!
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In 2004 I finally had enough! My husband took off and went to Nebraska and left me home with the 2 miniature horses, burro, Sam (big horse), dogs, and cats. He went to his son's (my step - son) for 3 days. We have not been able to go on vacation since we got the miniature horses. I pointed that out to him when he bought them... but that did not matter to him at the time. He could not have gone if he did not left me at home to take care of the animals. While he was gone we had a storm. Around midnight I sat in this double wide with the wind blowing 100 miles an hour. It was hailing so hard that it actually put holes in our guttering for the first time in 22 years. The hail was hitting so hard that I thought it was going to break every window!! When the wind blows a double wide the house kind of shakes. The car was not in the garage and I could not move it in the garage. How it was not hail damaged had to have been a work of God. Many times the electric goes off with weather like that. He should have come home that night but he stayed one night longer. Needless to say I was pretty upset!! We went to eat at a local cafe the evening that he got home. As we were sitting there we were both giving each other looks that could kill each other!! He had his way and now things were to continue as before. The next day our son called me and said that his dad had come to see him and told him that he was thinking about getting a divorce!! My son thought it was funny and said he was trying to talk his dad out of getting a divorce. Here is a man that I caught with another woman when my son was 3 years old and he is going to divorce me. My husband was in his recliner sitting smug and stubborn... both of us still angry! When my son called me and told me that.. it was just too much! I went into the living room and I told him what our son said. His answer was... "Yes, I am thinking about it!" My answer to him knocked him for a loop. I told him... "Let's go for it! I am sick of this relationship! We will have an auction sale and split everyPosted by It took me ever so long to FULLY trust the Lord. Is it that just being human makes us want to be in total control of our life?? Giving up that control is hard to do. We think that the decisions that we make will make a difference with the inevitable. When I first married my husband he was constantly threatening to pack his clothes and leave. It worked for him because I would beg him not to leave. Not realizing it for a long time... he was a controller. He did things like that to get his way. He did a lot of pouting and fit throwing through out our marriage. It was either his way... or the highway. After about 10 years my thoughts were... you may as well leave now as do it when you are 50 years old. Even though I said that to myself... I still did not give God total control of my life. I was still trying to solve my own problems. We are all born with a sin nature. If it was not true we would not have to correct young children. A good example is like walking into the bedroom of a 3 year old and they have colored on their wall. When you ask them who did that... they blame it on their 9 year old brother! I feel like we are all born with the knowledge of right and wrong. There are some that does not have a conscience. I know when I do something wrong; but sometimes I have pushed my conscience aside. Not a good thing. I went into Wichita today and met my daughter. We went to Walgreen's, garage sales, and ate lunch. We had a good time visiting. I forgot all about the walk for cancer!! My husband called me at 15 till 6 and asked where I was. I told him I was at Web and 54. He said he was going on to the school. I told him I would feed the dogs and then be up there. I bought 5 raffle tickets and won a shirt within 15 minutes!! I just gave them all the money I had in my wallet $12 and bought more raffle tickets. I am not usually that lucky. I told them I was getting ready to leave. She said just put my phone number on the back. It is for a good cause. I am really tired tonight but yet here I sit on the computer! Bill my step - dad did not call and let us know if he made it to Mo. I guess he did. Sometimes I call him but didn't this time. I have no idea when he will be coming home. My husband got my step - dad's lawn mowed, yard trimmed
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, and spread that dirt though out the yard. He said there was a lot of trash in that dirt. My step - dad can do some of the most stupid things at times. He does a lot of things just to get attention from the neighbors. I guess everyone does things like that when they get older?? We went to the walk for cancer at the local high school this evening. My son and his wife were volunteers. There was a lot of people there from our church. There was a tent for the church and a tent for the drug store where my daughter - in - law works. We had a good time. I am stuffed from eating brownies and pumpkin bread. BJ went with my husband to put the miniature horses up and let the dogs out. It was 11 p. m. by the time we got home. It is going to last from 7 p. m. until 7 a. m. in the morning. Our son and daughter - in - law will be exhausted. He will have to study for his sermon Sunday morning. James had his dad help him today set up. I can not believe the things that we have from garage sales and auctions!!! We had one of those tent things, 4 metal real state signs to put up their signs, coolers, lawn chairs, and a sign that goes on and off that says... Walk & Don't Walk. He gave the sign to them. Tiffany wanted it. They like unusual things. lolI had a lady stop and talk to me and I did not know who she was?? That is so embarrassing!! I asked Tiffany who she might be and I found out who she was. She had asked me to sing at the White Eagle Fest and then at the walk for cancer 4 years ago. So many people know me and I do not know them. It is from singing at different places. We went to church yesterday evening. Our son was going through Matthew. He showed part of a film first and then went through scriptures. It was about Jesus talking about things going into our mouth. He said it was not what went into our mouth but what came out of it. Seems like I am forever working on what I say. I can say something and some people misunderstand me?? I guess the expressions on my face confuses some also... so I have been told. Just the way I am. I seem to be able to read people so I must be studying them when I look at them. Gets me into a lot of trouble. Not really something that is good all the time. It helps me when dealing with people and knowing if someone likes me or not... but not everyone sees what I see. I have to keep still and just wait and see if I am correct. It is so easy to judge others. We should really try to see others just like they see us. What do others see about me. I am so tired tonight. Am a night person and really wish I was a day person. Father, help me to be what You want me to be and do what You want me to do. Amen My step - dad stayed in the hospital for 2 weeks. I was there twice a day. Two 60 mile trips a day. Then he went into the nursing home for another 2 weeks. I was there 2 times a day also. Within 1 month I lost 8 pounds. It is hard for me to loose weight. I was so stressed and my blood pressure started going up. The Lord has taught me a lot through my step - dad. I finally had to just let go of things to be able to be healthy myself. He was stressing me out something terrible. There were a lot of other things that I had to let go of also. How my mother passed away and what caused it. My daughter told the hospital that they could do an autopsy but my step - dad was saying no! In not a very nice way. There are things that I wonder about; but have let go of them. Yesterday is gone and I can not change anything. I knew what he was thinking when my mother passed away. He thought that he could start life over again. He had been secretly calling his daughter and even talking to his ex - wife a year and half before my mother passed away. He was calling her with a calling card. His daughter had not talked to him for years and did not call him dad. She even told him that he was not her dad... her step - dad was. He ended up with $27, 000 missing. His daughter called him and said she wanted money for a new house. She told him if she didn't get the money that she would never talk to him again. This was after he made a trip to see her in Washington D. C. I am proud to say that I do not owe my step - dad anything. In fact he owes me. I like it that way. I am just not a greedy person. He told me one time that he would let me sign my mother's name
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on the deed of the house so he could sell it. I don't think so!!! I could care less about the house or anything that is in the house. I don't owe him anything and he does not owe me anything. I did get upset because he would not let me have my mother's boots. He wanted to give them to his niece; no relation to my mother. He finally said I could have them. I did not want the boots after he got mad becausPosted by My step - dad had a brain tumor removed in the 80's; it was not cancer. The doctor told him that it could return in 5 years, 20 years, or what ever. I lost my mother December 27th and February 12 my step - dad has his first appointment to check out the brain tumor. He was so hard to deal with. He came first in everything. I told him that I would take him to doctor appointments. He knew that I was not a morning person but yet he would make his appointment for 8: 30 in the morning!! I had to take out the 2 miniature horses and feed the animals before I could take him to the doctor. He made it very clear that he no longer even liked me. The doctor was not in any hurry to remove the tumor. He told him that it was a slow growing tumor. It was not cancer. It had taken 20 years for it to get this big. My step - dad was 78 years old and turned 79 that May. I took him to 20 doctor appointments. He had surgery April 17th. His younger sister came and helped me be with him in the hospital. I had to be at the hospital at 5: 30 A. M. the day of surgery. I was going to be there early this next morning but our big horse, Sam got colic. I had to search for Sam. I could not find him. He was at the front of our property rolling!! Not a good thing! I called the vet and by the time he got here Sam had gone to the east field. We went to look at him. I am five foot 1 and Sam was a huge horse. I had to hold him while the vet checked him. I thought he was going to pull my arm out of socket!! Then the vet had me walk him for 30 minutes to see if that would help. Then he told me to walk him to the west side of the field up to the front property in case he had to put him down. Sam was all scratched up with his hide wore off his eyes, hips, and shoulders. The whole time I was walking him to the front of our property I was crying. I felt like I was taking him on a death walk. The vet checked him and told me that he thought it best to put him down. His intestines were twisted. He might not make the trip to Kansas City and he was over 20 years old. Poor GPosted by True to my word we did not talk about things like again about my mother. I will not go there!! I am the only child that my mother had and he was not going to ruin my relationship with my mother. I looked back over the last year that she was alive and wonder if he treated her mean. I know that she told me that he had not talked to her for 3 days one time. When my daughter would go into her house, my mother would tell her... "You see that house over there (looking out her kitchen window while sitting at the table) if I was well enough I would rent that house." The past can not be changed. We have to move on or the past will consume us with grief. The Lord told us that yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come. What we have is today. We should try to make the best of today. Things that we say can not really be taken back. Many times we look back at our lives and wish we could do things different... but we can not!! We can make today better. I feel like it is never too late to start over again. Confess our sins and move on to be a better person. I feel like that many nervous break downs are caused by not letting go of the past. I look back over my life and wonder why I did some of the things that I did. I think to myself... "Was I that stupid??!!" All I can do is pray for the Lord to forgive me of the choices that I made in life and to help me to become a better person. If the Lord can forgive me then I should forget the past and move on. That evening just after loosing my mother at the hospital... we had my step - dad in our car. We stopped for all of us to eat at IHOP. He said... "Well I am glad that she is gone!!" Then he added... "Because now she does not have to hurt anymore." He was real calm and cool at the hospital and sat watching
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all of us cry. He was just too calm! It was like he was glad that she was gone and would not have to do anything for her again. When we finally got to my mothers... the first time to walk in and her gone!!!! My step - dad said to me... "Tomorrow when you come into town could you buy me some Vitalise? I have not been able to wear it for years." He could have knocked me over with a toothpick!! My mother could not smell some things. She had a breathing problem. It was the smile on his face that made me angry!! Here is a man that I had known since 1969... the grandpa to my kids and my step - dad for 30 years!! He became a stranger to me within the next several years?? We buried my mother on Saturday. We drove the Blazer and the Van and had everyone together except my oldest son and his wife and daughter. On Monday I went to my step - dad's and I made out thank you cards for the flowers. I off the wall made the statement that at times I thought mom was angry at me and I could not figure out why. He said to me!!!!!! "Your mother was jealous of you. She told me that if you and I had anything to do with each other, that she would disown both of us." WHAT???!!!! I did not say a word. I was in too much shock to even comment back to him. That day he insisted that I drive him 240 miles the next day to choose her headstone. I was not wanting to go. It had just snowed a couple of days earlier and it was in the month of January. I did not want to drive in snow. I went to his house the next day. He held my coat for me to put it on. I yanked it out of his hands!! I stuck my finger in his face and I told him: "We will NEVER talk about my mother again like yesterday! She is gone and I refuse to talk about her that way!" From then on there sePosted by Life is finally getting a little easier... but only through the help of the Lord. Over the last 8 years I have done a lot of growing. I have finally realized that we can not change a person, their actions, or their choices... even when it involves us!! Having faith that the Lord will take care of each situation in our lives and being still... which is sooo hard to do at times. Going to the Lord in prayer and letting Him wrap us in His arms and comfort us in our hour of need. I lost my mother 2 days after Christmas of 2005. My mother would have been 80 in March. She had watched her mom die at 68 with cancer, my dad (her ex - husband) died at 69 with cancer, her brother died with a heart attack at 69, another brother died in his 60's with a heart attack, one brother died in a car wreck in his 40's, and she had lost 2 step - brothers with cancer that were also in their 60's. My mother was so scared of cancer and hurt for a long time before her death. My Granny had told her not to go to the hospital and let them operate on her. The minute that they opened up my Granny and my dad... they gave them 6 weeks to live. She refused to go to the hospital. The last year that my mother was alive... she could not hear that well. At the end she did not like for my daughter and I to come at the same time. She could not hear or understand what was being said... and felt like she was left out of the conversation. The day that my mother passed away; my daughter and I was going to go see her. She wanted my daughter to come first and me come later. When I arrived my mother was sitting in the bathroom in a kitchen chair... it had rollers on it. She did not know that I was standing behind her. She told my daughter that I did not buy her pajamas at Dillards... that I had bought them at some other store. I motioned to my daughter that I had bought them at Dillards. On sale of course. My mother had lost water in her legs and she needed some new pajamas!! Her pajama bottoms were soaked. Christmas night her legs were soooo swollen!! She refused to go to the hospital!! I am sure that she must have died from massive heart failure. Finally I touched mom on the shoulder and she looked up at me... wondering if I had heard what she said about the pajamas. This was December 27th; two days after Christmas. Everyone decided that I was to go to Wal Mart and buy her a pair of pajamas and my step - dad wanted me to go by and pay the electric bill that was due that day. While in Wal Mart my daughter called me on my cell
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phone and told me that my mother was bad and they had called the ambulance. I laid down the pajamas and ran out of Wal Mart crying with everyone looking at me. I arrived the same time they did. They had put her in the floor and my step - dad was screaming that they were not suppose to resuscitate her... really mean!! I guess him and my daughter had a few words when my daughter was screaming to call 911. This was the wishes of my mother... to not go to the hospital.: (This is what happened just the short time that I was gone. My mother slumped forward and died after choking. My daughter started screaming and crying while holding on to my mother. My daughter's tears were falling on myPosted by Today my husband and I went to the Assistant Living. He taught the lesson, another couple read scripture, and I sang 2 songs. I sang: "Farther Along" and "I Can't Even Walk" (without You holding my hand). Everything went well. We stopped at Pizza Hut and ate lunch on the way home. I laid down for an hour. I have been so tired lately because of being a night person. I feel like making an entry but yet my heart is just not in it. Going to decorate Saturday turned out well. The weather was fantastic and traffic was great. The 7 headstone saddles, 13 flower pots, and 2 hanging baskets looked good. For the last 3 years I have made headstone saddles for my mother, dad, and grandparents. I had not made any for my husband's mother or grandparents. His sister is kind of picky and I was scared that she would not like them. My husband told me to make what I wanted. I made one for his mother and another for his grandparents. His brothers told me how pretty they were. I am glad that I made them. I have decorated since loosing my mother. She use to do all the decorating. I am sure that she thought that I would not decorate after she was gone. I really do enjoy making each one. As I stand and make the flower arrangements.... many thoughts go through my mind of that special person. It gives me time to realize what a joy they were in my life. The flower arrangements that I made for 2 of my uncles... were the only thing that they received. I remember one of them bringing me milk for my 2 small children when I was single and struggling to make ends meet. I would come home to find a gallon of milk sitting on my porch. It was winter time. The other uncle bought me silly little items when I was growing up. Mom and daddy moved to Colorado when I was 3 years old. Everyone came out to Colorado to work. My Granny once again came to Colorado and got me. lol We rode home on the bus. I was asleep when the Catholic sister got on the bus. When I woke up and saw the Catholic sister; I told my Granny that she was one of God's angels and that was my Jesus on a Bible she had on her lap. The Catholic sister was real impressed with what I said. She asked Granny for my name and address. For 6 years this Catholic sister sent me coloring books, books, pamphlets, and many other things in the mail. She would write to me and my mom would read the letters to me. My mom wrote her back for 6 years. When we moved to Oklahoma my mother said that she did not tell the Catholic sister that we were moving. She said she was getting kind of tired of writing to her. I still have many of the things that she mailed me in a doll suitcase. This Catholic sister was an English Professor in Wichita, Kansas. She was from around Nowatta, Oklahoma. When I was in the 7th grade we heard that a Catholic sister got killed in a car wreck; and we thought it was her. Something very strange happened in the 1982. I moved in the Wichita area in 1975. Since I thought that Sister Margret Treas had been killed in a car wreck I did not try to look her up. One day my mother called me and said that something kind of strange happened in the cafe where she worked. It was lunch time and normally they were really busy!! This black Catholic sister came in. Mom said she just looked kind of radiant. Something different about her. When the Catholic sister went to pay my mom mentioned that she had known a Catholic sister that wrote to me for 6 years. They talked for about 30 minutes. The Catholic sister told her to tell me that Sister Margret Treas was still praying for me. I also thought it kind of weird so I got on the phone and started checking. Only one Catholic sister knew her. She was in Wichita in 1979. The Catholic sister sounded kind of strange... very hesitant to talk to mePosted by When I was about 6 months old my mother poisoned me with her milk. She got a job and wasn't going to breast feed me anymore. One night she let me nurse. I was burning up with fever. The doctor
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said if they gave me one drop of milk it would kill me. My mother and father was living with my Granny. Mom said she begged Granny to get me well. My Granny feed me nothing but the water off of soaked toast. I know that was not the plan of God, for me to die. I am sure that my Granny did a lot of praying. Right before I turned 4 I got scarlet fever. Mom and daddy had been living in California at the time. We lived in a trailer court. Uncle Dink and Aunt Wanetta came also. Everyone was working. Granny came to California and took me back to Kansas with her. I would go any where with my Granny. Soon after she got me back to Kansas I got scarlet fever. I can barely remember. I remember when mom came back to Kansas that I fell in the floor when running to meet her. Granny said I could not walk and almost had to learn to walk all over again. My 7th grade principle told me that he lost his daughter (same age as me) with scarlet fever. I am sure that I would have died if Granny had not taken me home with her. We moved back to the town where my Granny lived when I was in the 9th grade. I graduated from that school. They had a contest that summer before I went into the 9th grade. My Granny's sister's daughter... Jane Ellen played the piano. So Aunt Mavis and Jane Ellen decided that Lynette (7 years old) and I would enter the contest. haha! Lynette sang a Elvis song and I sang the old Johnny Ray song... "Just Walkin In The Rain". I remember my cousin saying that her fingers might not work... and I might be walkin 'in the rain!! lol My dad was pretty easy going but he was very upset that I was going to enter the contest. He said that I was going to make a fool of myself. Years later I realized that my dad was more than likely thinking about me singing in night clubs and etc. Being in the wild life?? I took 3rd place, the school band boys took first, and the banker's daughter took 2nd doing a dance. Her music stopped while she was dancing but she finished her dance without the music. lolI hated music class in school. I could never sing with the other girls because I was a low singer. Maybe if I had gone to music I would have learned to harmonize or something?? When singing with a group I have to sing with the men... tenor.. I guess?? I use to sing in the gym after gym class for the girls. I would take my song books and they would want me to sing. We would have about a 10 or 15 minute break after gym. The gym teacher use to let me sing?? My mom found out that I was singing because she worked at the local drugstore with some older girls. The girls that worked at the drug store told my mom that the science teacher use to let them sit there and listen to me sing. I did not know that until later years. lol My mom's boss was so funny. He was a pharmacist and he would have me come to the back of the drugstore and sing a song over his microphone. I was always so nervous doing that. lolI never sang anywhere for years but continued to sing with my records. I loved to sing. We moved about 6 miles from my Granny and I went to a different school. I went there 2 years. I was in the 7th and 8th grade. I loved to sing so when our music teacher told us that we could sing at our play in the 7th grade... well I said I would sing. I can still remember going to the mic and singing "Satisfied Mind". lol I have a very strong voice. I sang a couple of lines with the mic and then stepped away from it and sang the rest. lol The kids laughed and I laughed too. Everything went real well and the kids applauded for me. The next year, 8th grade... my music teacher got a hold of me and said she wanted me to sing!! She played the piano for me. She wanted me to sing "Tumbling Tumble Weeds"!! I told her that the music was too high for me. She said that she would lower it for me. I did fine through practice. Well the day that I sang on stage I think she raised the song!! I was nervous because the lights were on in the auditorium. I don't think the lights were on the year before. I could see all them kids out there watching me!! The first words of Tumbling Tumble Weeds is... "I'm a roaming cowboy"!! Of course all the kids laughed!! I thought they were laughing at me. To make things worse... my voice went into a high pitch sound! I ran off of the stage crying. My best friend went with me. I was in the bathroom crying so hard when my 8th grade English teacher came in to see about me.
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Mrs. White. She wore glasses and I remember her even crying with me. She hugged me and told me that she was going to get permission for me to sing in her play. Oh No!!! No way was I ever going to sing again!! Never!! She said.. Yes you are. I will put a spot light on you and you will not be able to see the people in the audience. She got permission for me to leave my class for play practice. Our play was "Oklahoma". The song that I sang was "Red River Valley". She had about 4 boys sitting around a fake campfire day dreaming about their sweetheart back home. She had a spot light on me... and I kind of walked behind them. The play toPosted by Well there isn't any way that I can be making comments on any journals right now.: (I am on my old computer. Need to take my new one in and get it fixed even if I have to pay to get it done! I am not that smart when it comes to computers. This old computer is soooo slow!!! Back when I was growing up my family didn't go to church. Once in a while I would go to church with the neighbors across the field. I remember this little girl that I went to school with in the second grade spent the night with me. She had a little gold pin that was attached to her slip with a safety pin. She was Catholic. I really liked the little pin. She explained to me that it was to protect her. lol She gave me her pin because she said she had another one.:) I wore that little pin on my slip for a long time. My Granny was always singing... most of the songs she sang was gospel. I think just about everyone that was related to my Granny loved to sing. When I got older my Granny would want me to sing with her. She wanted me to sing lead and then she would harmanize with me. haha! I can still hear her saying... Janie Marie you are singing with me!! When I was 12 we moved to Oklahoma where she lived. One time she got me up in church to sing with her. Oh my!! Again she said... Janie Marie you are singing with me. What a treat it would be to sing with her now. I think I could sing lead now. lolFor years I would sit and sing with my records. I would sit for hours singing. I was an only child and didn't have that many friends. My dad would sing with me when we drove to my Grandma's. I had all them books that had the words to the songs in them. My mother would just sit the whole time we were singing. Mother's Day is this coming Sunday. I was in the kitchen doing something...?? The thoughts of my Granny came to mind. She was always like a second mother to me while growing up. I married a military man when I was 19 years old. I was an only child. I was gone away from family for 9 years. When my husband was sent to Okinawa I returned home to stay for 18 months. My Granny lived behind me on the other block. Soon her and my step - grandfather moved to a near by town 7 miles away. It wasn't long until my Granny started getting sick. She had pain in her left side. In my mind I always thought that when she had a fall on her back porch and hurt her left side... that is what caused it. She changed doctors. He talked her into having surgery. After the surgery the doctor gave her 6 weeks to 6 months to live. She had cancer of the pancreas and colon. She was a very strong lady so therefore it took her longer to die.: (She passed away the day before my birthday. Friday as I was standing in the kitchen thoughts of my Granny came to mind. She was 68 years old when she passed away. That is only about 3 years older than I am now. So young! I remember thinking how old my Granny looked. She had the silver blue hair and was over weight. Needed to loose about 50 pounds at the most. She was a loving person and would feed anyone. When my step - grandfather lost his job she took in little old ladies to take care of. One little lady would have died if my Granny would not have taken care of her. She took such good care of them. She would wash their hair, fix it, and even give them a permanent. Thinking of her... I am thinking... did she feel as young as I feel?? I am sure that she did. She just acted different than I do. lolIt was very hard on my mother loosing her mother. Three months later her brother got killed in a car accident. Oh... how it hurt my mother! Today I was getting ready for Mother's Day tomorrow. I vacuumed the whole house. I wanted to do some dusting in case some of the kids
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came to the house. Not that they would mind... just wanted it to look half way good. My step - dad called and said that he had cooked some beans with ham and wanted to know if we wanted to eat with him. Hmmm I did not want to go.: (Gary did not really want to go either... but we went. It seemed to just ruin and interfere with my plans. The next day it was Mother's Day. I lost mom December 2005. I set the table to eat beans and cornbread. I took 3 pieces of chocolate cake. Gary did not want any so I left them with my step - dad. I did the dishes and while standing at the sink I looked out the kitchen window that my mother had looked out. Looking at the plants coming up that she loved. As I washed dishes I was thinking of her standing at the sink. There was just a sadness in my heart. I was not wanting that feeling at this time and place. Not realizing that the place where the silverware goes in the dish washer... it was broken. The silver ware was falling through and I could not get the dish washer door to close! The more I tried to close the door.. the worse it got!!! I bruised up my hands and arms trying to fix it. I was so upset and my blood pressure was rising!! I was ready to tear the door off of the dish washer! This was just not my plans for the day! Beans usually upset my stomach. Why didn't I just say... No tomorrow is Mother's Day! Went to church this morning. We had a missionary and his wife from India through Sunday School. The message was a great message. Told us that America had changed in the last 3 years and we need to stay strong as Christians. Soon we may be without our freedom of religion. My son and his wife gave me a necklace, ear rings, and bracelet. My daughter - in - law made them. They also gave me an orchid and card. My other daughter - in - law sent me a card. My daughter wanted to come out today but poor little Carlie is running 102 temp. We went ahead and stopped at the local cafe and ate breakfast before coming home. Later my step - dad came out to our house. I made some strawberries with sugar; and served with angel food cake. He left at 5: 30. We had a lazy day watching old westerns. I had a wonderful Mother's Day.
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The drive back to Griffin was one of almost total silence and even the normal sounds of traffic seemed muted from inside the long black car as we left the big city behind. We all were lost in our own thoughts that must be processed and catalogued before we could talk about this entire happening, at least with the boys, and again I felt like I would be walking on eggs when and if they wanted to discuss their mother. I would have to think hard to find one redeeming grace that was left of the shell of Bubba's lovely, carefree daughter, and Gene's teenage bride. I knew, other than her needlework skills, I would be hard pressed to think of anything 'good' I could share, and try as I may, I could not come up with any thoughts that might soothe these small boys. "Oh yes," I reflected, "she was the mother of my handsome husband and these wonderful boys," so at the very least that was the one thing for which I was grateful. Secure in the fact I had discovered the best thing to say when someone asked me about Helen, and I knew the time would eventually come; I now had the perfect answer. Even before we reached the Agricultural Station right outside of Griffin, Gene and the boys were either asleep or had closed their eyes as if to try and forget these last two days had ever happened, and even Billy, with his head resting on mine, seemed deep in thought, or asleep. I felt like I would sound as if I were shouting in a cathedral if I tried to speak, so I just squeezed his hand softly to see if he was awake, and he immediately lifted my chin and kissed me on the lips and the forehead. I knew he would have plenty to talk about once we were alone, and I vowed to be ready to listen and do what I could to soften the grief that surely would follow the shock. All the way to Griffin Billy held me close to him, and as I laid my head against his broad shoulder, he laid his head against mine, and I knew regardless of the outcome of today, all was well between us, and that was the most important thing for me. It was dark bSome of Gene's employees and church friends were at the house, and several were playing with Michael who seemed no worse for our absence. Once again, after offering their condolences and any assistance to the family, slowly they began to leave, one or two at a time, until the house was empty except for Gene, the boys, Billy, Michael, and me. I was, for the time being, the 'woman of the house', and it was a very uncomfortable feeling and a huge responsibility for one so young. Although I offered to fix some supper, everyone said they were not hungry, but since I was the only 'mother figure' around, I insisted the boys at least eat a turkey sandwich and drink a glass of milk before they went to bed. Billy excused himself to change out of his uniform, but told me he would feed Michael when he returned. I only managed to kick off my heels before I busied myself in the kitchen. I cut large slices from the whole turkey that someone had brought to the house, smeared an entire loaf of bread with mayonnaise, and made a large platter of sandwiches. I then looked for the congealed salad I had seen pass through the house earlier since I knew all of the boys would like it, even Billy who had now joined me in the kitchen. First, he checked his son's diaper, which was clean and dry, and then he sat him in his highchair while I cut up some pieces of turkey and buttered some bread for our son, along with a bowl of the gelatin mold filled with peaches, Michael's favorite fruit. I felt sure as soon as everyone began to eat their appetites would return so I put the gelatin on the table, poured three tall glasses of milk, and a glass of coke for Billy. The boys, now in their pajamas, obediently joined us in the kitchen. They certainly did not make a liar out of me, and in no time at all the first plate of sandwiches was gone and I began spreading mayonnaise on bread to make more. Billy was eating with one hand while he attempted to prevent his son from throwing all of his food on the floor with the other, which was MichGene had disappeared towards the back of the house but I could make him a tray when he returned, and I knew if I put the food in front of him, he would eat it, even if he did not taste it. In the meantime, I poured more Coke for Billy and he thanked me with a kiss when I put it in front of him. I cannot say this was a typical meal with the boys since none of them was talkative, other than to tell me that these were good sandwiches, but I hoped with a few days away with their father in the mountains, they would return the same precious boys I had always known. All of a sudden, we heard glass breaking, and violent cursing coming from Gene, somewhere in the back of the house
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. With Michael strapped safely in his high chair, the rest of us rushed towards the boys' room where the sound came from, and found Gene standing in the middle of the room with an open suitcase dangling by one handle clasped in his hand. He had found a half full bottle of bourbon in the suitcase, and in his anger had shattered it against the wall, and the smell of alcohol permeated the room as it dripped down the paneling onto the floor littered with shards of broken glass. Innocently he had been taking down the suitcase from the closet shelf to pack for their trip to the mountains when he found the half - empty bottle. I imagined, like my father, Helen had hidden bottles all over the house, and Billy and I would find even more before the week was over and we had finished cleaning out Helen's personal belongings, per Gene's instructions. I was a champion 'finder of bottles', having had so much practice. Unable to look at his sons, Gene told Billy to go get a broom, dustpan, and some wet paper towels, while I ushered the boys back to their sandwiches and milk. At first, they seemed glued to the floor, but I promised them a bowl of ice cream with fudge sauce once they finished eating, and they all obediently filed out and back to the kitchen. During our brief absence, Michael had taken the opportunity to smear his dinner all over his tray, his face, clothes, and in his hair, but shortly, he would have his bath, just as soon as I finished feeding his young uncles. After the excitement of the smashed bottle, the rest of the evening passed in relative silence, with everyone physically and emotionally too drained to converse. With Billy's meal interrupted while he helped his father clean up the mess in the boys' room, I made a tray of sandwiches and carried them to the den where both Gene and Billy were sitting in silence while the television played in the background, although I do not think anyone was paying much attention. It was a relief when I was able to excuse myself to bathe my son, and after I put him into his pajamas, I took him upstairs to the den to say 'nite - nite' to his daddy, and Gene asked if he could rock him to sleep. Although Michael had long ago given up his bottle, he seemed to sense that his grandfather needed to hold him, so he did not try to cling to me as he usually did; rather he held his chubby little arms out to Gene, who put him in his lap and began to rock. He did not sing to him as I did, rather he talked to the baby in a low, almost monotone voice as if he were telling him a story, although none of us could hear what he was saying. Obviously though, Michael, mesmerized by his grandfather's soft whispers, in just a few minutes was fast asleep on Gene's shoulder. Billy rose to take his son from his father's arms and carry him to our bedroom, but Gene put his finger to his mouth and whispered, "S - h - h - h" as he rose and carried his only grandchild downstairs and gently tucked him into his makeshift bed. It seemed as if he was gone at least fifteen minutes, and when he came back upstairs, I thought I saw tears in his eyes, for the first time during the last two long days. "You know," Gene said, still speaking in a soft voice, "life goes on, and the next generation steps up to the plate when our time at bat is over. He sure is a bright little boy, and someday maybe he will want to work in the store too." Then, as if by magic his moment of melancholy over, without missing a beat, he was all business again as he sent the boys ofWe sat around in silence for about an hour, more listening than watching the television, when Billy rose, pulled me to my feet, told his father we were tired, and suggested that he too should call it a night, especially if he wanted to get an early start in the morning. Gene cut off the television and then, for the first time ever, he kissed me on the cheek and told me how much he appreciated my participation the past two days, especially the way I stepped in and took care of the boys. He then added if we found anything that either of us wanted that had belonged to Helen, to be sure to keep it. I really did not want anything of Helen's. I had felt sorry for her, but certainly had not felt any semblance of affection. She had treated my son and me with contempt and pure hatred at times, and while I could grieve for the boys, I could not grieve for her. She was in a far better place now than the hell she had made for herself here on earth. I have always believed that our God is a forgiving God, so I felt she was safe in His arms now and no longer was she burdened with pain and sadness. For the first time I realized there were some people that were truly better off dead than alive, and Helen was
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one of them, since she obviously had not enjoyed her life here on earth, and had made so many other lives miserable too. I thought surely Billy would be exhausted from our seemingly never - ending day, and he would just take off his clothes and crawl into the bed, but no, he wanted me to shower with him, so of course I did. From then on there was no going back and we made love several times before we fell into an almost coma - like sleep. We both must have slept the sleep of the dead, as neither of us heard David come into the bedroom to retrieve a wide - awake and loudly protesting Michael. Gene had told the little boy to let us sleep, if we were not awake, and by the time we did get up, Gene had changed Michael's diaper, fed him, and dressed him. He had found the diapers and folded stacks of clothes in the laundry room basket, and had done a very good job matching his grandson's outfit. I guess I had never thought about how much of the responsibility he had borne when raising his own three youngest sons, but he knew just what to do and how to do it. Michael was happily playing with the boys while Gene was fixing everyone pancakes for breakfast. I offered to clean up the kitchen while he finished packing, and hoped beyond hope that no more bottles would turn up this morning to dampen the almost holiday mood. Thankfully, all went smoothly and by 10: 00 a. m., Gene and the boys, in Helen's big station wagon, were pulling out of the driveway. Billy and I were now alone, with our son, in this big house, with a difficult task ahead of us, and a $2000 check for a car just burning a hole in Billy's pocket. I did not know if he would finally break down while going through his mother's personal belongings, with his brothers out of sight of his tears, but I was ready to console him to the best of my ability. With Michael contentedly watching cartoons on television, at least for a short while before he found something to get into, Billy, with that look of determination on his face that was so familiar, headed first for Helen's medicine cabinet in the corner of the kitchen. We had so often watched her as she walked in the door from work, I left Billy working on his mother's medication cabinet and, taking one of the brown bags, with Michael following close behind, I decided I would 'search' the house for bottles. Once again, my experience would come in handy, but I doubted if Helen could be nearly as devious as my father could and I always found his bottles. I started in our bedroom, which was the least occupied now that Billy was gone, looked under the bed, in the closet, the cabinets in the bathroom and behind the curtains, only to find just one empty bottle in the top of the closet behind the extra blankets. Now she would have to have done better than that to test my skills! I literally turned the room upside down since I knew without a consistent occupant, this would make a perfect hiding place; even the maid did not clean down here regularly. It was then I found a box that at first glance seemed to be overflowing with family photos, and interested in looking through them to see if I could find any of Billy when he was young, I dragged the box out of the back of the closet. As I reached in, hoping to find albums filled with snapshots of my handsome husband taken when he was a baby, and during his childhood, of which I had none, I found the box to be a subterfuge! Under the first layer of recent photos, even some of Michael we must have sent Gene, I found four full bottles of Four Roses bourbon, her favorite, and a half full bottle. Yes, this usually empty room had made a perfect storage space, and in the back of the closet, I found Billy's old golf bag, and sure enough another bottle. Billy had not played golf, nor been interested or had the time since he was on the team in high school so again this was a perfect hiding place. Michael kept up a constant chatter while I searched, since he wanted to know what I was doing because it looked as if I was playing a game, and in a way, I was. I decided to make a game of it for him too, so I told him that his grandmother had left hidden treasures, and his Daddy and I were looking for them. SatiHere were stored all the old photographs, for real, school supplies for the boys, the projector, the camera, and cases of film. Billy noted he had not seen his father take any film in a long, long time, so he added the movie camera to our 'stash', but all the unused film was out - of - date. I thought Billy was already beginning to stretch his father's generous offer of allowing us have anything of Helen's we could use, but decided to say nothing. If his father asked, I felt sure Billy would bring it back, but Billy thought Gene
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would not even miss it, and he was right. We tossed the film in the bag for empties and concluding our search in the cabinets found only one old full bottle of Scotch, so we presumed this belonged to Gene since it was not really 'hidden', nor was Scotch the drink of Helen's choice. We left it there and moved on to the living room, but not until I checked under the sofa, behind the drapes and all the large furniture. Billy dug into his father's recliner, and came up with a handful of change and Michael thought that looked like great fun, so Billy removed the cushion and let Michael's little hands get down into the nooks and crannies of the well - worn chair. In all, I think we found just over $6. 00 in change and decided to add that to Michael's piggybank since he had found most of it. Obviously, the boys had never thought to look for it since they rarely did without anything material. There was nothing else to search in this room, and nothing else was found, so we poured out the bottle with just a small amount in the bottom of it and moved on to the living and dining rooms. These two rooms were nicely furnished, and like at my parent's house, they looked rarely used. I thought it a waste of a huge amount of space, but I felt sure when Gene bought this house, he had planned to do a lot of entertaining, and of course with Helen's alcoholism, this never happened either. So here were these two large rooms, filled with the nicest of furniture looking brand - new, though a bit out - of - date. Now here was a place where we might meet with more success. Amazingly, Michael found the first bottle, quite innocently; when he pulled back the long drapes to look outside. We found another two full bottles hidden behind the drapes in the dining room and another empty in the dining room cabinet filled with sterling and china. Billy asked me if I wanted any, but I knew that would not be right, and we did not entertain formally in our small apartment anyway, so I told him to leave it there. Also his mother had given us six place settings of sterling as a 'pseudo' wedding gift, but she must have gotten a real 'deal' on it since already it was no longer being made. Now that he had found a 'treasure', Michael was really into the 'game' and moving to the living room; he pulled back the drapes and found two more bottles. Like my father, Helen was not going to run out of bourbon anytime soon! Both bottles were open, so we poured the contents down the drain. I could not believe how many bottles we had already found and not even searched but 2 / 3 of the house! Billy opened the coat closet door in the front hallway and took down his mother's mink stole and putting it around my shoulders said. "This is yours now." You have more than earned it for putting up with her. "He then gave me a quick kiss before he turned back to the closet. I really did not want the stole since I had only seen the wives of General officers and Colonels wearing mink, never a lieutenant's wife! I was far too young to wear fur, and I would feel far too conspicuous in it, but Billy insisted we take it with us, so I did, thinking that perhaps I could give it to Bubba later. I knew I could never wear it, even when Billy did become a Colonel, because it had belonged to Helen. I was the last person on earth she would have given it to, and it felt like a suit of armor over my shoulders. No, this was not for me, and I was sure Bubba would welcome something that had belonged to her daughter, even though she had her own fur. There were no bottles in that closet, not even in the top, so we moved on to the boys' room where Gene had found the partially empty bottle just last night. The room still smelled faintly of bourbon, but by the time Gene returned home the odor would be gone. There were three closets in this room, one for each boy, so while I searched the bottom, Billy searched the top. We opened boxes and suitcases, and neither of us felt like we were snooping - we were just following Gene's orders to rid the house of Helen's presence, and the first thing to get rid of would be her hidden bottles. We found nothing in the first closet, which belonged to Charles, except some old chicken bones, probably hidden there by a hungry little boy, so we moved on to the second. We worked in tandem again, Billy on the top shelf and me on the floor, and again we found two more bottles. One was inside a case that we had no idea what it had originally contained, and one was just stuck in the far back of the closet behind stacks of baseball shoes, bats, and other little boy paraphernalia. I wondered then if her sons had ever found her bottles, but due to the shock Gene felt on finding the first one
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, I doubted if any of them had ever thought to look. Gene knew Helen had a way of getting the alcohol, and as hard as he tried to keep her from it, he could not win, so I think he just gave up. Helen had charge accounts in every store in Griffin, and Gene never gave her any cash. However, as alcoholics will do, she would make a purchase and find some reason to bring it back, and insist on a cash refund, thus filling her pockets with enough money to purchase her bourbon. Since Gene did not want the 'secret' of his wife's drinking to run rampant through the small town, as if it had not anyway, he would not humble himself to tell the clerks just to credit his accounts and not give her the cash. Even if he had, she would have found another way, even if she stole money from the store. Alcoholics in need of a drink will use any subterfuge to gaiThe third and final closet that belonged to Dickie, the oldest, was empty of bottles, but now the boys had their shoes and other belongings neatly in place instead of just thrown haphazardly on top of the others. I could not bring myself to leave them the way we had found them; rather I organized as we searched, although I was well aware they would not stay that way. Finally, we looked under the four twin beds, behind the curtains, but once again found nothing. We then moved on to Helen's bedroom, which I had been dreading with the thought she had died in this room. I would never have gone into that room by myself, but Gene had the old mattress removed right after they took her away. Now a brand new box springs and mattress was on the bed, no sheets, no spread, so I decided to make up the bed for Gene so he could finally sleep in his own room when he returned. The maid was coming on Friday, but Billy and I were leaving for Atlanta after we let her in and showed her the things we had set aside for her and her church, but it would not hurt me to make up the bed. Actually, I think I was just stalling opening her closet, dressing table, and chest - of - drawers. This room had been her domain, and until today, I had never set foot inside it. I looked for the linen and found it in a huge linen closet in the hall where I also found stacks and stacks of brand - new towels of every color imaginable! Calling Billy, I stepped back to show him the excessive amount of towels, and he decided we could use some, and again his father would never be the wiser. He took eight matching sets of washcloths and towels, after he asked me to choose the colors, although I was not too sure Gene would not miss them, but I also knew I could not change Billy's mind, so I kept quiet. Sometimes now, I think perhaps I should have said something, but as events unfurled at that time, I was glad I did not. Little did we know that Billy's' golden calf 'was about to turn to stone! He finished the linen closet since I could not reach into the upper shelves and, as expected, he found no bottles there. Michael did find two more behind the lush drapes in the bedroom, and I could not help but laugh at his delight in being such a good helper. Both of these bottles were not only full but looked brand - new, so they joined the others we had put in a cardboard carton since now there were far too many for a paper bag. We would gain quite a bit of cash if we could return them. It was such a simple, but effective hiding place - behind floor - length draperies! My father had often used the drapes as his hiding place, and even with short curtains, he would place the bottles on the windowsills. Who would think to look there, except perhaps another alcoholic, or his or her families. Now it was time to tackle her personal belongings, I certainly did not look forward to this job, since I knew everything I would touch, she had touched, and for some reason I felt strange about that. I began with the dressing table and tossed used makeup into our trash bag, but I kept the barely used perfume - most of it the real thing, and not cologne - and the unopened cosmetics. Helen's complexion had not been as fair as my own, but during the summer, I thought perhaps I could use the makeup or even give it to my mother or my aunt. We had half a bag filled with unopened cosmetics, including those Billy found in the bathroom, and I decided obviously everything Helen did went far beyond necessity. I then opened her large jewelry box, filled with name brand costume jewelry, and I knew I could use these accessories for my social obligations as an Army officer's wife. I also decided I could use her hats and gloves since I had only one hat and two pair of gloves, both white, one short, one long. Hats and white gloves were required at many events, especially parades, so these I would definitely use.
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I had never seen Helen wear a hat, not even on that unpleasant Easter Sunday, and many still had the tags on them - perhaps tThen I found Helen's pearls. Gene had just given her a three - strand necklace of cultured pearls the previous Christmas, and I now had them in my hand. I had thought Billy's father kept all of her 'real' jewelry in the store's safe, but I was holding what looked like the pearls I had seen her put on after opening the box. I asked Billy if we should give these back to his father, but he told me to keep them since Gene had said I could have anything I wanted or could use, but this was different, something very valuable, or so I thought. I continued to remain suspicious about Helen keeping this valuable a necklace at the house, so I put a pearl in my mouth and with my teeth scraped it a bit and exposed the bead under the nacre - these were NOT her real pearls! Had Gene just 'fooled' Helen, or had she turned the real ones in for cash? On the other hand, had Gene taken the real ones back, or kept them in the safe and left these at the house for her to wear? Knowing her propensity for returning items for cash, and the amount she could obtain by returning the pearls that just might be the case. I did not feel I could ask Gene since either way he would be embarrassed or upset, but I felt better about putting them in my bag of things to keep. Without actually scratching the bead, no one would know if they were real or not since they were expensive 'fakes'. Eventually, years later, I would have my own 'real' pearls, and every time I wear them, I think of that moment. I added her hosiery and under garments to the bag of trash, not wanting to give away such intimate apparel, but kept a beautiful, filmy gown and negligee set that still had the price tags on it, and was the exact shade of blue as my husband's eyes. I thought I would wear it for him the first night we were home and once again had a bedroom to ourselves! Now to tackle the closet and I knew Helen had plenty of expensive dresses and suits since I had never seen her wear the same thing twice! I was right! The closet was so full I had a hardThere was one other closet in the master bedroom that belonged to Gene, but I thought we should not even open that one. Always curious though, Billy just had to get a look behind those doors, and when he opened them, he found a magnificent double barrel shotgun, and he just HAD to have it! I asked him why he even needed it since he was not a hunter, but he just said he needed it because he wanted it, and he added this to our 'stash'. We did not disturb Gene's chest - of - drawers since we knew there would be nothing of Helen's in there, and I thought the temptation for Billy might be too great if he found something else he wanted! I was beginning to think I had married a 'thief', although only with his own parent's possessions! With just one more chore before we left in the morning, Billy called the minister of the First Baptist Church and told him we had a box ready for him to pick up, while I dumped the water out of all of the fresh flowers that had come to the home. Most of the arrangements were beginning to wilt anyway, so I threw away the flowers and nearly all of the vases, keeping three. Too late, I thought perhaps we could have combined the still fresh flowers and taken them to the hospital or a nursing home, but Billy was anxious to finish and go to Atlanta to buy his new car! The minister said he could be there about 4: 00 p. m., and it was now past lunchtime, so I quickly fed Michael while Billy cleaned himself up a bit. He then changed Michael's, by now dirty diaper, and put him into clean clothes, since we had all gotten filthy cleaning out closets and cabinets. While Billy took care of his son, I went to the bedroom, washed up, put on some clean shorts, and pulled my hair back into a neat ponytail. As I put on a bit of lipstick and mascara, the girl who looked back at me from the bathroom mirror certainly did not look old enough to be married and have a child of her own, much less accomplish all I had in the past three days. I may have looked young, but inside, my soul was old, and it had been since I was about eight years old and decided I was the only adult who lived in my house. Now I had someone to look after me, and I thought we both did a remarkable job of taking care of each other. I sprayed a bit of perfume on the insides of my wrists and behind my ears, and then joined my husband and my son. Billy gathered up the boxes of full bottles, and if I remember correctly, there were now about nine of them. We left for Helen's
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favorite liquor store hoping to collect a 'windfall' of cash refunds, although I had no idea how much a bottle of bourbon cost! Parking in front of the store, Billy carried the first box of bottles inside while I waited in the car with Michael, thinking a liquor store was not an appropriate place to take a two - year - old. I watched as Billy gestured angrily at the box of full bottles and at the car, presumably referring to the second box. Finally, I saw the clerk reluctantly open the cash register and begin to count out the bills one at a time while Billy retrieved the carton from the car. After he collected the money, recounting it carefully, I could barely wait to ask him if he had any trouble. "Just a little bit until I told the man he should be ashamed he sold my mother the bottles, and I felt sure he was well aware of her condition and it was his alcohol that had killed her!" Of course, Billy did not really think that was true, he still had the idea his father strangled her, but the ruse worked, and the man felt guilty and gave him the cash. There was over $120. 00, so we celebrated our sudden wealth and went to our favorite restaurant for a late lunch or early supper, and Billy ordered his favorite, the most expensive item on the menu, fried shrimp. He had worked hard, his heart had broken over, and over again that morning, so I thought he deserved to have anything he wanted, even two servings if he was that hungry. I ordered a small filet mignon with béarnaise sauce and a child's plate of shrimp and fries for Michael. We would not be hungry again before bedtime and I was too tired to even think about cooking supper, although the house was full of prepared food. There were still over a dozen untouched casseroles, and I had covered them with foil and put them in the freezer, leaving a note for Gram, since she and Poppa would be coming to Griffin to take care of the boys wI felt sure Gene did not plan to stay long in the mountains, only long enough for us to clean out the house, but Gram and Poppa would be arriving from Atlanta on Friday, this was already Wednesday, and I am sure they hoped to stay only until Gene could make arrangements that were more permanent. I did not want Gram to have to cook that first week while she became acclimated to feeding so many mouths once again, so I knew the casseroles would come in handy. I was more than anxious to get out of Griffin. Our emotions were overwrought, and we were both exhausted after we finished fulfilling Gene's request as quickly as possible. Frankly, I wanted my husband all to myself, if only for a weekend before he returned to work! Selfish, perhaps, but I was also having nightmares, and every night I was waking up in a cold sweat as the image of Helen in her casket continued to haunt me. Surely, I thought, once we were back in our own small apartment, away from Griffin I no longer would have this disturbing interruption to my sleep. Little was I to know that until an even more horrible image replaced this one, I would continue to dream about Helen in her pink shroud and expensive casket as she clawed at the glass that entombed her! We arrived back at the house just minutes before the minister came to pick up the box destined for the church, and while he and Billy talked, I took Michael inside for a bath. After we put our tired little boy to bed, Billy and I took a long, hot shower, once again using all the hot water, and this time there was no one who would need it after us! We actually made love in the shower that night, although I really cannot remember how we managed, but when Billy wanted something badly enough, he always managed! Since I had not been fulfilled by these awkward manipulations, Billy slowly and tenderly took me to the moon several times once we got in the bed, and by then we both were so tired we did not even awake until we heard the maid running the vacuum! What day was it? What time was it? We needed to get on the road to Atlanta and look for a new car! All of us had slept later than usual; even Michael who had worn himself out running through the large empty house as he excitedly enjoyed our 'treasure hunt'. After a hurried bowl of cereal, it was almost 11: 00 a. m. before Billy had the car packed, and this time it was full from trunk to backseat, from floor to ceiling. There was only a small space on the seat for Michael to nap; otherwise, I do not think we could have squeezed one more thing inside. We were all dressed and ready to leave and Michael, as always anxious to ride in the car, was so excited I had a hard time keeping him still long enough to change and dress him. With Gene's check tucked firmly in Billy's billfold, and our unexpected windfall from the full bottles of bourbon we had returned, we were excited and more than ready to get on the road to shop
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for our new car. I had thought the maid would not be in until Friday, but 'Mr. Gene' had asked her to come in on Thursday so all would be clean when his mother and father arrived the next day. Actually, this worked out better since there were several things I needed to go over with her, rather than leave lengthy notes. While Billy packed our car, to include the new cooler, packed with meats, I asked her to thoroughly vacuum and wipe clean all of Helen's drawers and closets. I also showed her the huge box of clothing I had set aside for her, or her church, and she was very grateful we had thought about her at all. She assured me she would have the house sparkling like new and would even wash the inside of the windows since no one knew when last they were done, and agreed to wash the curtains that were not dry clean only. Bored by my instructions to the maid, Michael and Billy went outside and played with old Fella ', who had been mostly ignored all week, except for his nightly meal. Billy had reminded me to ask the maid if it would bother her to feed the old dog, and she said she usually did it anyway, so it was no additional work for her. "Besides," she said, "he is a good ol' feGram then asked if Billy was there, and when I told her he was outside playing with Michael and the dog, she said that was just as well since I could probably tell him this news better than she could. She continued by saying that somehow Bubba had found out Billy and I were getting rid of all of Helen's belongings, and said she never ever wanted to see or hear from Billy again! Although Gram had tried to explain to her he was only following his father's instructions, Bubba was not satisfied with that explanation. She wanted Gram to tell us the next time she saw or talked to us that we would never be welcome in her home, not ever again, and as far as she was concerned, Billy was' dead 'to her! Gram tried to assure me she would soon forget, and as her grief lessened, all would be forgiven, but I could not overlook what she said about Billy being' dead 'to her! I told Gram that was a horrible thing to say about anyone, particularly her own grandson, she agreed, but also told me something I did not know, that Bubba had been a fiery redhead when she was young, and Helen's unpleasant disposition had been inherited from her mother. Now that was something I never would have thought, but I had learned a lot this week, and most of it I would have been quite happy never knowing. Gram told us to have a safe trip, and I thought it best not to mention we would be in Atlanta today, but rather she found out about the car from Gene, just in case she slipped and told Bubba. I knew that Bubba would think Gene had paid us off for doing his dirty work, and that a car was so important to Billy he could erase his mother's existence in this house with no qualms whatsoever. I doubted if she would ever think perhaps it would not benefit the little boys if they came home to a house filled with their mother's belongings, as if she would be coming home soon, and that I thought this had been Gene's reason for asking us to clean out her things. I told Gram we would see her at least by Thanksgiving, if she wanted us, and sheAfter we hung up, I collected some small packages Billy had left behind, and told the maid we would not be back that evening, so to let herself out - and then I asked her if Gene had paid her. She assured me he left the check every week and not to worry. As we piled into the old car for the very last time, it was almost nostalgic, but not as much as it had when we traded in the old Ford that Billy drove on the night we had our first date. We had spent so many love - filled moments, both at the copper mine, and necking on Crown Mountain in that old car, but this old car too had its own share of memories. It had carried our newborn son home from the hospital, and had seen its share of our love and even some tears, but I still could not believe we were finally getting a brand new car! Once we were on the road, Michael promptly fell asleep, without asking for even one song, he was so tired from his late morning romp with his daddy and the old dog. I then told Billy about my talk with Gram, and at first, he was very quiet. I knew he had to be upset since Bubba had always played such a large part in all of their lives, and Billy had undoubtedly, even to the anger of her own sons, been Bubba's' favorite 'grandchild. I could tell he was trying to assimilate the message, and his brain was working overtime as he thought about what Gram had said. In just a few minutes, he pulled me over next to him, and with his arm over my
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shoulders and a squeeze, he said, "As long as I have you and my son, I don't need anyone else - I really don't. I don't know how I made it before I met you, little girl, and I do love you more than life itself." "Oh Billy, my darling Billy," I said as I kissed his hand and held it to my cheek, "It makes me very happy we are your world, and I know you don't think so now, but soon you will miss your grandparents." I tried to reassure him that Bubba had spoken in haste and grief, and I thought, correctly, as it turned out, after she got over her anger, she would miss both her gra [Foreword] [Contents] [Prologue] [Chapter 1]
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Author's Note: This is a fanfic for the movie Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Scull, and it takes place in 1958, almost a year after the movie ends. I wasn't overly fond of the movie, especially compared to the first three, but I did love the idea of Indy having a son, which is what this story focuses on. This was written for The Little Spanko's Prompt Challenge. I picked the prompt 'Accident'. Mutt anxiously watched the clock, willing it to go faster and end his torture. He'd been such an idiot to agree to go back to High School. School was a major drag, and his English class was the worst of the worst. His teacher started droning on about the symbolism in Moby Dick, and Mutt fought the urge to lay his head down on the desk. No doubt if he did, the old bat would rat him out to the principal, who would rat him out to his father. Mutt sat up a little straighter in his chair when he realized what he'd just done. He'd just casually thought of Indiana Jones as his father. It had been roughly nine months since he'd found out that Indy was his biological father, but knowing it, and feeling it, were two very different things. He tried to pinpoint the moment he'd started feeling as if Indy was his father, but couldn't. It wasn't while his mother and Indy had been dating. That had been an awkward two months for all of them. Marion and Mutt had moved into an apartment close to Indy's house almost immediately after getting back to America, specifically so that Indy and Mutt could get to know each other. But when Indy would come over to visit with Mutt, Mutt often found reasons not to be home, in an attempt to avoid talking about school. So Indy had ended up spending more and more time with Marion instead. It wasn't during the whirlwind four months that Marion and Indy were engaged. Mutt was sure of that, because his mother had specifically asked Mutt to start calling Indy 'Dad'. He'd done it for her a few times, but the word sounded wrong every time it fell from his mouth, and he tried to avoid addressing the man at all. He'd gotten a job at a local auto shop, and worked as much overtime as possible to avoid everyone. It wasn't the day Indy had married his mother, though that had been a good day. Mutt didn't think he'd ever seen his mother so happy. Once the reception was winding down, Indy had taken Mutt aside. He'd told him gruffly, "Look kid, I'm your father by birth, and now I'm your father by marriage too. I'm going to do my damnedest to be a real parent to you. Not because of any obligation, but because I want to. I want us to get to know each other." Indy had pulled the unsuspecting boy into a quick hug, and added, "When your mother and I get back from our honeymoon next week, we'll talk about school." Mutt considered that day again. It had been a turning point of sorts. That was the day that Mutt decided to start giving Indy a chance, instead of just avoiding him. It wasn't the day Mutt had agreed to go back to school. He scowled. Their talk about school hadn't gone well at all. Caught off guard, Mutt's forkful of eggs stopped halfway to his mouth. He knew this talk was coming, but his mom and Indy had just arrived home from their honeymoon last night. "You wanna talk about that now?" Mutt had been thinking about it for the past week. He didn't want to go to school again, but he did want to get to know Indy, and didn't want to start things off with a huge battle of wills. He'd decided a couple of days ago that he was going to be the bigger man, and give in without an argument. He figured he owed Indy that much since the man did help him save his mother and Oxley. With a reluctant sigh, he said, "I thought about it while you were gone, and I'll do it. I'll study for a few weeks, and take the test to get my GED." Mutt was too shocked to speak for a few seconds. He'd been expecting smiles, nods, and maybe even a thank you from the man, not a dismissive 'no' with an order attached. Once he finally found his voice, it was louder than usual. "Where do you get off? You can't order me around!" "Unbelievable!" Mutt tossed his fork onto his plate. "I was trying to start things off right! I was trying to be nice by agreeing to get my GED! I didn't even want to do that, but I was willing! Now you can forget it!" Mutt blushed with embarrassment. It was bad enough that she used his actual first name, but hearing his middle name too, meant she was really irritated. "Moooom," he complained as he sat, "You know I hate it when
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you call me that. "" Listen kid, "Indy said," getting your GED isn't the same as getting a diploma. People don't see those as equal. You're only twenty, and you just dropped out of school last year. Jefferson High School is only six blocks from our house. You could enroll today, start classes tomorrow, and graduate with the rest of the class in four months. "Indy sipped his coffee and said," I know for a fact that they will. They'll count your credits from last year towards this one just like a regular transfer student. I contacted the principal, Mr. Kallen, a couple of weeks ago to explain the situation, and he assured me that "" No Mom! "Mutt said, turning his anger towards her." Don't tell me to lower my voice! He went behind my back before you guys were even married! Did you know about this? "" Hey! "Indy's voice boomed out in the room, startling both Mutt and Marion. Indy pointed a finger in Mutt's face, and said," Don't you dare raise your voice to your mother. "Mutt rolled his eyes at the ridiculous threat. He thought, 'You and what army?' but he kept the comment to himself, because he knew that Oxley would have reprimanded him for the same thing if he'd been there. Turning to face his mom, Mutt said sincerely," Sorry Mom. "" Thank you, "Indy said." For the record, I wasn't trying to go behind your back. I just wanted to know what your options were before I talked to you, because I know it's a touchy subject. None of the other kids would even know you missed a year. You'd be like any other transfer student. "" You don't need a job, you need to focus on school. "Indy gestured to the house around them and said," You have a home here with us for as long as you want. I inherited this house from my father, and someday you'll inherit it from me. "Mutt was too surprised to comment. He'd never considered inheriting anything from Indy, so finding out he'd inherit the house someday left him speechless. Indy shared a smile with Marion at the expression of wonder on the boy's face. He said," Your mother and I want you to live here with us for at least a couple of years, so that you and I can get to know each other. "Mutt nodded. They'd had that conversation right before the wedding, and they'd all agreed. She spoke over his protest." The last school you went to was a private school, and I paid for a full year of tuition. But because you dropped out before the term was over, I didn't get any kind of refund. "" You didn't? "Mutt played with the edge of the tablecloth anxiously." Why didn't you tell me? "Mutt glanced at the clock. Still five minutes left of his English class, before he was free for the weekend. He was scheduled to work all day Sunday, but he enjoyed working at the auto shop, so he didn't include that as part of his servitude. He used to work all day Saturday and Sunday until his father had had a casual conversation with his boss about how much homework Mutt had. With a deep frown, Mutt realized he'd just thought of Indy as his father again. He'd been attending Jefferson High for a little over three months now, and sometime during those three months, he'd stopped thinking of the man as' Indy 'in his head. He wondered if it had happened last month, when his parents went on an adventure without him. Oxley had sent Indy a letter with map coordinates, and nothing else. Indy had excitedly shown it to both Marion and Mutt. The coordinates led to somewhere in Egypt, and Indy was anxious to find out what was there. He told Marion to pack a bag so they could leave that night." What about me? "Mutt had asked while his mother went to pack. Nothing made him feel worse than getting left behind. Mutt had scowled and crossed his arms. Indy had been threatening him with a spanking at least once a week since that first time, and Mutt had come to realize it wasn't an actual threat. When Indy said it, it was the same thing as his mother using his middle name during an argument, or Oxley pursing his lips and using the phrase' that was uncalled for young man '. It was Indy's way of letting Mutt know that he was unhappy. The thought of his parents doing that still made Mutt slightly uncomfortable, and he squirmed in his desk chair. Only one minute to go before the bell rang. He heard the kids around him shuffling their papers, and getting ready to make their escape. The instant the bell rang, Mutt was on his feet, and out the door. He dutifully went to his locker and got the books he'd need for his homework, and then headed for home. While he was walking, he decided that the week his
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parents had been in Egypt could have been the turning point for him. That week he'd started referring to them as his' parents' instead of 'my mom and Indy' when people asked where they were, to avoid awkward explanations. Now he wondered if saying it repeatedly out loud might have been a catalyst for him to start thinking it as well. By the time Mutt got home, he decided this was a good change. He liked thinking of Indy as his father. The man was gruff and bossy towards Mutt, but now Mutt could see the underlying affection in that, and Indy was always kind and loving towards Marion. Indy was the kind of man Mutt would like to be someday. He was successful in his chosen profession, he was confident in his actions, and his friends were loyal because they knew he was a man of his word. Mutt opened the door and said, "Mom, I'm home." Getting no response, he looked at the side table next to the door and found a note from his mother. She was doing the grocery shopping. Mutt went to his room and dumped his backpack on the floor. Thinking about all the homework he had to do that weekend put a scowl on his face. He gave the backpack a little frustrated kick. It wasn't that he was incapable of doing the work. It wasn't even that the work was difficult. He just hated the time he lost while doing it. He especially hated doing homework when it was something he'd done before. He'd read Moby Dick two years ago on his own, and he'd discussed it in length with Oxley. Now he was going to have to waste a perfectly good Saturday writing an essay about something he already knew. But if he didn't do it well he didn't want to go there again. Two weeks after he'd started school, he'd spent the weekend hanging out with new friends, and didn't make the time to do any of his homework, even though there were three assignments due on Monday. He was more than a little surprised Monday night when Indy had come home angry, and barked at him to go to his room so he could talk to Marion alone. Not knowing that the upcoming conversation was going to be about him, he'd left them alone to work things out. He blushed at the memory of what had happened after that. Indy glared at him, and said, "It's what you didn't do that's a problem. I got a call from principal Kallen. You didn't turn in any of your homework today!" "Yeah?" Indy said, "Then maybe you should start acting like it. A man doesn't sulk and refuse to do the right thing just because he doesn't want to, that's something a child does." Mutt looked her in the eye and said, "I'll do my best from now on. No matter how much I hate school, I'll do my best. I promise." With a sigh, Mutt shook his head to get rid of that shameful memory. He got his books out, and laid them out on his desk, but didn't sit down. He decided he needed a snack before he could endure the torture of an essay on Moby Dick. While he was eating a piece of toast, he wandered over to the table by the front door to look through the mail. He got a letter from Oxley every week, and it usually came on Fridays. He found a letter with Oxley's return address, but the envelope was addressed to 'Henry Jones', not 'Henry Williams'. Frowning, Mutt held the letter up to the light, to try and see through the paper. Oxley almost never wrote letters to Indy, unless it was a lead on an artifact. Mutt shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth, and held the letter in both hands. He despised the thought of his parents going on another adventure without him, especially while he'd be stuck in school. Mutt examined the back of the envelope, to see how well it was sealed. He looked at the front again, and only concentrated on the 'Henry' part of the name. He thought, I could say it was an accident. Tell them I thought it was for me. Tell them I only noticed the Henry part, and didn't realize it wasn't for me until I started reading it. I hope this letter reaches you swiftly, because I don't know when I'll be near a phone. Our mutual friend, Joseph Marlow, has been searching for the Seal of Solomon since the day he heard your father's theories about it. And if your father's theories are to be believed, we do not want that ring getting into the wrong hands. Unfortunately Joseph either got too close, or he succeeded in finding it, because he is missing. A week ago I met with Joseph in Israel, per his request, to help him in his search. But I didn't get the chance to speak with him about it, because three Russian men were following him when he arrived. He confided in me that he was afraid for his life, and I provided
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a distraction so he could escape them. He agreed to meet me later that same day, but he never came, and I fear the worst. Joseph had a house in Ohio, half a day's drive from you. Please search the house for any information on the Seal's location, and bring what you find to me in Israel. I'll have a scout at our usual place every day at noon. He can give you my whereabouts once you get here. I'll be cautiously trailing the Russians for now. Yours, Joseph's address was on the bottom of the letter. Mutt scanned it one more time, and felt a stir of excitement in his gut. Oxley had told Mutt bedtime stories about the Seal of Solomon. Whoever wore it was supposed to have power over demons. Mutt wasn't sure if he believed in demons, but after seeing aliens with crystal sculls, anything was possible. And if the ring worked, and if Russians got the ring before the United States, that could lead to very bad things happening. He desperately wanted to go to Israel, too. But he knew he couldn't. The stir of excitement turned to acid in his stomach. He'd promised to go to school. He'd promised to try his best. Running off for a week, when there was only one month left of school, would be breaking both of those promises. He was reluctant to admit it, but he did want his new father to be proud of him, and breaking his promises would not make any of the authority figures in his life proud. Mutt looked at the clock. His father wouldn't be home for three hours. He looked back at the address, and a smile formed on his face. He might not be able to go to Israel, but he could have his own little adventure, and help out his old man in the process. He picked up the phone and called the auto shop to let them know he couldn't come in on Sunday, but would work both days next weekend to make it up. Next he went to his room, and hastily shoved a change of clothes in his backpack, and grabbed his toothbrush. He went back to the table by the front door, flipped his mother's note over, and wrote: I accidentally opened the letter from Ox, and decided to save you a trip. I'm going to search Joseph Marlow's house, and I'll be back with what I find Saturday afternoon. I called into work, so I can do my homework on Sunday. Mutt She looked over at the side table, and found his note. She scanned it, and almost dropped her groceries. "Oh Mutt, tell me you didn't." She rushed to the kitchen to set the bags down, and went back to pick up both Mutt's note, and Oxley's letter. After reading them both, Marion went straight to the phone, dialed Marshall College, and asked for her husband. An hour later Marion and a furious Indy were on the road headed to Joseph's house. Mutt stopped to eat a quick burger for dinner, and still made it to Joseph's house before one in the morning. The house was located in a small suburban neighborhood right off the freeway. Mutt parked his motorcycle in the driveway, and went to check the front door. It was locked, so he walked around the house and tested the back door, and then the windows. They were all locked, so he went to the back door and picked the lock. He let himself into the kitchen, and turned on the light. He shut the door behind him, and went in search of clues. He made it to Joseph's office, turning the lights on in the house as he went. Joseph's desk was littered with books and paperwork, all pertaining to the Seal of Solomon. Smiling at his luck, Mutt walked towards the desk to collect the papers, but never made it that far. A sharp thwack to the base of his skull made him stumble forward and fall to the ground. Everything faded to black before he saw who'd struck him. Mutt woke with a start when cold water was splashed in his face. He automatically tried to bring his hands up to cover his face, but couldn't move his arms. His entire body struggled for a moment, before he realized he was tied up. He shook his head to get the water off his face, and looked down at himself. He was tied to one of the kitchen chairs with thick rope. The rope wrapped around each booted ankle, keeping his feet snug against the two front chair legs. It wrapped several times around his stomach and upper arms, trapping his arms against his sides, and keeping his lower back pressed against the back of the armless chair. His hands balled into fists on his thighs while he struggled to get free one more time, but his bindings didn't budge. "What are you doing in my house?" The female voice startled Mutt out of his struggling. His head snapped up, causing sharp pain at the base of his skull where he'd been struck. There across the room of the office a young woman stood holding a large carving knife. She
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wore black pants, and an oversized blue tee shirt that hung down to mid thigh. Her blond hair was gathered into a ponytail, and her eyes were wide with terror. "What?" Mutt asked, still disoriented from the blow to the head. "Your house?" He looked her up and down. She didn't look old enough to own a house. "This house belongs to Joseph Marlow." "Are you slow?" She asked. "If you know my father's name, this isn't a random burglary, so answer my question. What are you doing here? What were you looking for?" Mutt wasn't sure how to answer that. He'd already scared the poor girl by breaking into the house, he didn't want to tell her that her father was missing and probably dead. He said, "I was looking for information on the Seal of Solomon, and I had no idea that Joseph had a daughter. I'm real sorry about breaking in. If I'd known, I would have knocked. Do you know Harold Oxley? He's the one who sent me." "Harold?" She studied him, and the knife slowly lowered to her side. "How do you know Harold?" She brandished the knife again and scowled at him. "And how do I know you're not lying just to get me to trust you?" Mutt held his hands up in a placating gesture, but because of his ropes, they only got about one inch above his thighs. "I've known Harold Oxley my whole life. He was a good friend to my mom. He's in Israel right now with your father, but" utt paused and decided to go with a half - truth. they got separated, and Ox asked me to gather up all the information on The Seal of Solomon to send to him, so he can figure out where your dad might be. "a She lowered the knife again." Separated "er eyes got even wider for a millisecond. he put a hand over her mouth and whispered," You mean something's happened to him. "" It'll be okay, "Mutt said in a gentle voice." We're going to find him. How about you untie me, and you can help me gather up everything for Ox. "He usually liked it when people called him that, but he didn't want her to be afraid of him. He understood how frightening it was to have a missing family member, and wanted to help her." What can I do to make you trust me? Every minute we waste here, is a minute we're not helping Ox find your dad. "" Yes. No one else is going to show up. It's just me, and you can trust me. My name is Mutt, what's yours? "" You know what? I do trust you. But you probably shouldn't have trusted me. "She pulled the rubber band out of her hair, and it fell neatly into place, as if it hadn't been in the ponytail for long. She pulled the oversized tee - shirt over her head, revealing a form fitting black shirt cinched at the waist with a black belt." What's going on? "Mutt asked nervously. The smile she gave him was cruel." What's going on? "She pulled a pair of black leather gloves out of her pockets, and put them on." You really are innocent aren't you? That's cute. More like a puppy than a dog. "Her grip on the knife had been desperate earlier, but now it shifted to a more comfortable and familiar hold. She moved towards him and said," Since no one is coming for you, I can take my time getting information out of you. And since you're only an errand boy, I'll have no reason to keep you around once you've squealed. "They both heard the sound of a gun cocking, and turned to see Indy standing in the doorway to the office." Yeah? "Indy said," Try getting your kid to graduate high school. "Glaring, she held her hands up in the air, with the knife still clutched in her right fist, and stepped away from Mutt." Good, "Indy said, moving father into the room." Now set the knife down on the floor gently, and come stand by the door. "Keeping his eyes and gun aimed at her, Indy knelt down and picked up the carving knife. He moved behind the chair Mutt was tied to, and darted his eyes down for a millisecond to see the ropes. He set to work cutting the rope while keeping his gun and eyes mostly on the woman. Indy pushed the ropes off, and pulled at Mutt's upper arm to get him to stand. Once Mutt was standing, he kicked the rest of the ropes off his feet. Indy held him at arm's length, with a hand on each of Mutt's shoulders." Did she hurt you kid? "Seeing the worry in Indy's face made Mutt feel both loved and guilty at the same time. He lowered his head, and
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put a hand up to the base of his head. "She hit me with something. Knocked me out cold. I don't know how long I was out." Indy physically turned the boy around, and gently explored the back of the kid's head with his fingertips until he felt the lump. Mutt hissed and flinched at the touch. Once Indy was done checking it out, he turned Mutt back around. Indy held up two fingers for Mutt to see. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Indy pulled the kid into a tight hug, and said to Marion, "He's got a good size goose egg, but no bleeding." Indy let go so he could look at his son. "You hurt anywhere else?" Still a little surprised by the fierce hug, Mutt shook his head. Marion glared at the younger woman who'd hurt her son, but the woman was too busy glaring at Indy to notice. Marion took two steps, and hit the woman on the back of the head with the butt of her gun. The woman fell to the floor unconscious. Shocked by what his mother had just done, Mutt's eyes opened wide, and his mouth popped open in a silent 'Oh'. "Darling, we need her awake to answer questions," Indy said. Marion looked at her son, and then back at Indy. Nodding reluctantly, she stuck her gun in her pocket, and gestured to the woman on the floor. "Indy, Dear, if you'll take her into the kitchen for me, I'll tie her up while the two of you get things settled." Indy let go of Mutt, and went to pick up the unconscious woman. Marion walked up to her son and pulled him into a hug. He hugged back and said nervously, "What's going on Mom?" She squeezed him hard once, and then patted his back before letting go. She took his chin in her hand to make him look at her and said, "You should know that I'm one hundred percent in agreement with your father on this. Don't mistake my unhappiness for disagreement. You've been pushing the limits since the day you found out he was your father, and today you went too far." Mutt shook his head and backed up a step to get out of her grip. "What do you mean I went too far?" "You lied to us!" "I was trying to do you guys a favor!" Mutt yelled. "I left you a note, and I'm not missing school! How is any of that going too far!?" Indy came in sporting a grim expression, and made a beeline for his son. Upon seeing his father's expression, Mutt backed up a few steps, and bumped into the desk. Getting into the kid's personal space, Indy glared and said, "What did I tell you about raising your voice to your mother?" The older man grabbed Mutt's wrist, and pulled him over to the chair he'd recently been tied to. Indy sat, and hauled the younger man face down over his lap. Mutt let out a surprised grunt when his stomach made contact with his father's thighs, and his hands automatically went to the floor in front of him. Indy wrapped an arm around the kid's middle to keep him down, and started raining down swats on his backside. Reality came crashing down on Mutt, wiping out all the illusions he'd had about his father not following through on the spanking threats he'd made over the past three months. Mutt put one hand on Indy's knee, and pushed up while twisting his upper body to look back, and blurted out the words, "You were serious about spanking?" Indy paused in the swatting. "You thought I wasn't?" he asked while pushing Mutt's hand off his knee. He pressed on the boy's upper back to get him back down into position, while keeping an arm wrapped around his middle. "Of course not! It's ridiculous!" Mutt shouted. Mutt started to seriously struggle. He lifted his upper body again, and put both his hands on Indy's thigh to shove himself up while also trying to get his feet flat on the ground. Indy had to stop spanking so he could put both his arms around Mutt's waist to keep him down. "Henry Walton Williams!" Marion scolded. Both men froze in place and looked over at her. She shook her finger at Mutt and said, "You stop that right now, young man. We are your parents, and we both think you deserve this spanking. If you don't respect us enough to stay in place until it's done, then I'm ashamed of you." Mutt's face was bright red with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and shame. He broke eye contact with his mother, and focused on the oriental rug under the chair. He'd been twelve the last time he'd been in this position, and it seemed ludicrous to be in it again now that he was twenty. He struggled with his pride and his conscious for a few seconds, before slowly lowering his upper
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body back down. He put his hands back on the floor, stretched his legs out behind him, and kept his head down. Indy sighed. "Look kid, I don't want to do this, but you haven't left me much of a choice." He started swatting hard and fast again. Mutt remained completely silent. He held his body stiff with anger and resentment as the blows kept coming. He did not think this punishment was deserved, and he certainly didn't think it was appropriate for his age. He'd decided to cooperate, because he wanted to prove to both of his parents that a spanking wouldn't affect him at all. He tried to distract himself by thinking about getting his own apartment in the very near future. Indy knew exactly what Mutt was doing. He'd been on the receiving end of this scenario more times than he'd like to admit, and he remembered the anger. He stopped swatting as quickly as he'd started. "Not even close." Indy took his arm off his son's waist long enough to take off his own belt. When the arm came off his back, Mutt turned his head to see what his dad was doing. Seeing the man pull his belt off, made Mutt's stomach take a dive. Even though he didn't want to admit it, his ass already hurt so much that he could barely keep his reactions to himself. Indy doubled the belt over, holding it so that the buckle was tucked safely in his hand. He wrapped his free arm back around Mutt's waist and snapped the belt down onto the seat of the kid's jeans. Despite his best efforts, Mutt let out a small grunt in reaction. Indy nodded to himself and said, "Okay, it's time to talk. Tell me why you think I'm spanking you." He held the belt down at his side, and waited for a response. Glaring at the floor, Mutt sneered, "Okay professor, I'll tell you what page we're on. You're spanking me because I tried to do you a favor. Don't worry, it won't happen again." Mutt heard the whistle of the belt before he felt it. He kept his grunt of pain in, but when the belt snapped down again, and again, he couldn't hold back everything. By the time the sixth smack landed, Mutt's grunts were higher pitched. "Do you think I'm stupid?" Indy asked with some anger in his voice. "Or do you think I believe that you're stupid enough to make that kind of mistake? You're not, so stop lying about it, and maybe we'll be done here before that girl in the kitchen wakes up." Having forgotten about her, Mutt's eyes darted over to the open door of the office, and he prayed that the girl was still unconscious. "Okay!" He said urgently while trying to keep his voice down. "Okay I did it on purpose." Mutt flinched, expecting more swats, but they didn't come. Indy's eyebrows went up in surprise. He remembered hating it when his father left him behind, and he said with sympathy, "Ah kid, it's only one more month, and then you can come with me every time. Okay?" The last of his anger went away at Indy's tone of voice, and Mutt was able to admit to himself that opening that letter had been wrong. His voice was strained when he answered. "No." Indy tightened his grip and started spanking again. He made sure not to bring the belt down on the same spot twice in a row. "Ow!" Mutt yelped. "Ow! Ow!" His legs twitched with each smack, and he had to grab one of the chair rungs to keep his hand from trying to block the blows. "You're right, okay? Ow! I'm sorry!" "No you weren't," Indy said, his irritation surfaced. "You were trying to get away with something, and I'm not going to let you pull that kind of crap. You scared your mother and me half to death! This was a dangerous stunt, and it's not going to happen again." He snapped the belt down to make his point. "Not before I know all the facts I don't," Indy said, slapping the belt down again. He started lecturing, and gave Mutt a swat after each sentence. "You purposely came here without talking to me about it. Not because you thought you could do a better job than me. And not because you were trying to help me out. You did it because you knew I'd tell you not to. That kind of irresponsible behavior will get you killed someday, and it shows me that you still have a lot of growing up to do." "Ow!" The spanking was bad enough, but the lecture on top of it made Mutt want to die from shame. Even though he didn't want to, he heard truth in what Indy was saying. "I'm sorry! Really, really sorry! It will never happen again!" Hearing repentance in
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his son's tone, Indy calmed down. "I'm sure it won't happen again, but you should know that if it does, you're going right back over my knee." Mutt shook his head. "I'll never do it again! I swear!" "Ah! Ow! Please Dad! Ow! Please stop! Ahhh!" Indy set the belt on the floor, and waited for the boy to settle his squirming. Once he did, the older man said, "Tell me what you learned, and we'll be done." Breathing hard, Mutt tried to blurt out the words as quickly as he could. "Don't lie to you. Don't open your mail. And don't go on an adventure meant for you without talking to you first." "Easy kid," Indy said, patting the younger man's lower back. "It's over. You gave me the right answer." Mutt's body went limp upon hearing those words, and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and recover from the pain. Indy took his arm off the kid's waist, and rubbed soothing circles on his back. After a few seconds of silence, Indy patted his son's back and said, "Alright, come on. I'm sure your Mom is anxious to make sure you're okay." Getting up was awkward, but Mutt managed it. Once he was standing, he tentatively rubbed his butt, and grimaced. He kept his head down, his hands on his ass, and his eyes glued to the carpet. Then he took a few steps back, away from his father. Indy stood too, and carefully studied his son's posture. "Hey, look at me." The boy glared over at his father. Mutt's face was bright red both from embarrassment and from being upside down. His eyes were suspiciously shiny, and his hair was disheveled. Indy said softly, "You can hate me for this all you want. It's my job to make sure you turn out to be an upstanding member of society, and I take that seriously. It's not my job to make you like me." "Indy?" They both heard Marion's voice, and turned to see her standing at the office door. Indy waved her in, while Mutt dropped his hands to his sides, and turned his glare back to the carpet. "I'll be in the kitchen," Indy mumbled, giving his wife a chance to talk to their son alone. Keeping his eyes on the ground, Mutt groaned and said, "Please tell me that the girl is still unconscious." "She is." Marion said. She put a tentative hand on her son's arm. "Mutt" she said, trying to get him to look at her. He shrugged her off, and took a step back. She waited a moment before stepping forward, and putting her hand on his arm again. He didn't move away this time, so she stepped into his personal space, and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. He tensed for a moment before bending his head down to rest his forehead on her shoulder. She kept one hand on his back, and stroked the back of his head with the other. A couple of minutes later, Marion whispered, "I was so worried." Mutt trailed his mother into the kitchen, and tried not to think about the way his sore skin chaffed against his jeans when he walked. When they got to the kitchen, the girl was just coming around. Ten minutes later, Indy gave up on trying to get her to talk. She remained completely silent, refusing to answer even one of his questions. He turned to Marion and said, "She's a professional. She won't talk." Indy rubbed his hand on his chin. "I'll go pack up everything I'll need to take to Ox. You two see if you can get anything out of her." While Indy packed, Marion and Mutt both asked the girl some questions, but she completely ignored them, even when Marion gave her a slap. A few minutes later Indy came in holding a satchel full of documents. He looked at the girl and said, "No luck?" "We're not going to resort to torture, so we'll" ndy opened his mouth to speak, and then turned a suspicious eye on the girl. e waved his family over to the kitchen door, and soon they were all standing outside with the door shut. I'll take Mutt's motorcycle to the nearest airport, and catch the first flight to Israel. he two of you go back in there and call the police. ell them you're house sitting for Joseph, and have that woman arrested for breaking in. s soon as you're done with the cops, use my car to go home. "Wait a minute," Mutt said. Why isn't Mom going with you? ou guys could take the car to the airport, and I could stay here until the cops get here. "e looked at his mother, but she simply shrugged, not knowing the answer herself.
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ndy said softly, "I'm not going to leave you alone again until after you graduate." e saw his son scowl, and quickly added, "It's not because I don't trust you. just I don't want you to feel lonely or left out." M rion smiled at her husband for the sweet gesture. "Yeah you can, but you're not gonna." Indy held out his hand. "Give me your keys, and look after your mother while I'm gone." "Mutt." Indy cut him off. "Stop arguing, unless you want to be grounded too." He touched his fingertips to his palm a couple of times, in a gesture for Mutt to hand over the keys. Frowning, the boy dug them out of his pocket, and gave them to his father.. "Thank you." Indy pulled the unsuspecting boy into a tight one - armed hug. Mutt wasn't as angry as he had been earlier, and hugged his father back. Indy let him go, and then gave his wife a hug and kiss. "Be careful," she said. "Always," he said. With the satchel of paperwork in one hand, and the motorcycle keys in the other, Indy walked around to the font of the house. Marion put an arm around Mutt's waist, and they waited to hear the motorcycle start up. After a few seconds, Marion started to tense up. "Something's wrong." They heard a gun cock behind their heads. Both of them put their hands in the air and turned around. A large man with dark black hair and a mustache was pointing a gun at them. With a heavy Russian accent he said, "Keep hand where I see them, yes? Into house." He gestured towards the kitchen door with his gun. "Okay." Marion said, and both her and Mutt went back into the kitchen. The woman was struggling to get free with no luck. When she saw the dark haired man, she said something in Russian. He answered, "Da." Mutt didn't know much Russian, but he knew that meant yes. The woman stood up, and walked up to Marion. She dug into Marion's pocket, and pulled the gun out of her pocket. Once it was in her hand, she glared at Marion, and backhanded her across the face. "Mom!" Mutt yelled, and lunged towards the woman. The dark haired man stepped up to him, and punched the boy in the gut before he made contact with the woman. "Mutt!" Marion yelled, "Don't fight them!" Mutt fell to the floor on all fours, and tried to catch his breath. Marion held up her hands, and tried to get the man's attention. "We're not going to fight, okay? We'll do whatever you say. You don't have to hurt us." Everyone looked up to see Indy standing in the doorway with his hands in the air. Two more men were standing behind him with guns pointed in his direction. They'd confiscated Indy's gun, his whip, and Joseph's papers. "I think you have that backwards Dr. Jones," the woman said. "Help us find the Seal, and we won't hurt them." Mutt gave him a curt nod, while trying not to vomit. The three men, and the woman, conferred in Russian for a few moments. While they were talking, Indy and Marion shared a worried look. The woman finally said, "Looks like we're all going on a nice little trip to Israel." "Leave the kid here," Indy said. "He has nothing to do with this." The woman squatted down in front of Mutt and brushed the back of her fingers against his cheek. "Not a chance Dr. Jones. Keeping this one will assure your compliance." She leaned in and whispered in the boy's ear. "And if it doesn't, I'll have the pleasure of making you whimper, Puppy." He jerked away from her. She laughed and stood up. She gave a command in Russian, and one of the thugs pulled out a needle, and plunged it into Indy's neck. Indy fell to the ground. "Calm yourself Mrs. Jones. It's a sedative." The woman gestured towards Marion and Mutt, and each of them got a shot as well. Mutt's world went dark for the second time that night. When Mutt woke up, his head felt fuzzy. He opened his eyes slowly, and tried to get the blurry images to focus. "Mutt?" Indy's voice was right beside him. "What happened?" He felt as though he couldn't wake up all the way. "They drugged us. Remember? We were at Joseph's house, and then the Russians were there." Mutt blinked a few times and looked at his surroundings. They were in a relatively small cargo airplane. There was rope around Mutt's chest, holding him upright against the bench seat that ran the length of one side of the airplane. His hands were tied together
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in his lap, and his ankles were tied together, with his feet resting on the floor. His father was sitting on his left, and when he turned to his right, he saw his mother. She was also tied to the bench, but her head was hanging low, and her head bobbed with each bump of the airplane. "Mom?" He said, starting to panic. He looked back to Indy. "What's wrong with her?" "Calm down, son, I'm sure it's just some kind of sedative. I've been awake for about twenty minutes now. If we all got the same dose, she'd be the last to wake up, because she has the smallest body mass." "She will." Indy said with conviction. "She can drink me under the table. She won't let a little sedative take her out for long. Don't you worry." Wanting to believe that, Mutt nodded, and looked around. He saw a group of men with guns sitting on a bench along the other side of the airplane. And the woman who had ambushed him was sitting in the middle of the men, looking through the paperwork they'd taken from Joseph's house. "No buts!" Indy winced at how sharp his tone had been, and eased up a little. "Listen kid, don't go trying to be a hero, especially while we're up in the air. We're outnumbered, and there's no place to run." "What for?" "For everything. Opening the letter, and going to Joseph's house. If it weren't for me, you probably wouldn't have even run into those guys." Mutt shifted on the bench, trying to relive some of the pressure off his butt. "Ah kid, you've got it all wrong." Indy smiled despite the circumstances, "Look, I'm new at this parenting thing, so maybe I forgot this part earlier. After a punishment, the slate is wiped clean. I forgive you for opening the letter and going to Joseph's house. You shouldn't feel bad about it anymore." Indy cut him off, "Then you're not to blame. Really I should be thanking you for getting me to Joseph's house so quickly. If I'd waited to leave until I got home from work, those Russians would have been gone, along with all the information Joseph had on the Seal." Half an hour later, Marion woke up, and a few minutes after that, the woman who had captured them walked over with a handful of paperwork. She stood in front of Indy and said, "Dr. Jones, we have two hours before we land in Israel. I'm going to untie your hands, so you can look through Mr. Marlow's paperwork." She held a knife up to show him, and then leaned in close to his face. "I want your word that you're not going to try anything stupid, because if you do, it will be these two" he gestured with the knife to Marion and Mutt. "who pay the price for your stupidity." a She focused on Mutt, and smiled. Moving to stand in front of him, she leaned down, and rested her hands on his thighs just above his knees, with the knife handle pressed between her right hand and his left thigh. Getting a bad feeling, Mutt pressed his back up against the bench to get away from her. She put her mouth right up against his ear and said, "The puppy wants to help? That's sweet." The woman chuckled and leaned back so she could look Mutt in the eye. "Lucky puppy. You don't know how difficult it is for me to keep my knife and hands off you." She rubbed her hand up his thigh, and said, "I'd love to hear you yelp." "Keep your hands off him, bitch!" Marion yelled, and struggled against her restraints. "The name is, Marta," the younger woman said with a dismissive glare towards Marion. She looked more closely at it, and Indy pointed to the numbers. "The quotes don't match the verses. I'd have to check, but I'm ninety percent sure that all these quotes are from Song of Solomon, but the side notes reference other books of the Bible." Marta handed the paper back to him, and called out to one of the men unloading the airplane. They spoke in Russian for a few minutes, before she turned back to her three captives. With a smile she said, "I'm going to untie all of you now. There's a truck waiting to transport all of us. If any of you give me the slightest hint of trouble, I'll sedate the puppy." "My name is Mutt!" the boy hissed, annoyed with the demeaning nickname she'd apparently given him. Indy put a hand on Mutt's shoulder, and squeezed it hard. He said to Marta, "We get it. None of us will give you any trouble." She called to her men to untie them. While they were waiting,
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Indy turned to Mutt and said, "No heroics kid." He held up the paper with Joseph's notes. "I need to figure this out so we can find Joseph and Ox." "Good." Indy patted his shoulder before letting go. An hour later, they were all in a house on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Marta had some food brought in for everyone, and set Indy up at a desk with a bible, Joseph's paperwork, and some blank paper. Indy lost himself in the research, blocking out everyone and everything around him while his mind went to work. Mutt spent his time cataloging everything about the people holding them captive, to use against them when the time came to try and escape. Marion watched her husband, and knew the instant Indy had it figured out. There was a specific expression the man always got when realization dawned, and she couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm for knowledge. While Indy was quickly cross - referencing things and checking his new insight against the documentation, Marion whispered to Mutt, "Stay sharp, it's almost time." Marta immediately went over to stand next to Indy. He pointed to Joseph's paper, and the paper he'd written notes on. He said, "Joseph thinks the Seal is buried at The Garden Tomb." "Well I didn't say he was right, I said that's what he thinks." Indy pointed to the paper and said, "It's not buried in the tomb itself, it's under the tomb. Look at this first quote from Solomon and then look at the quote from Exodus that the numbers reference." "They both talk about things that are hidden from view. The next quotes are about things underground, the next two are about secrets, and so on down the list. Each pair of quotes match up in some way, and the numbers match too. The chapter and verse in Song of Solomon matches the numbers for the chapter and verse in each of the other books." She looked at the quotes for several minutes. Indy pointed to one of the last quotes and said, "This here has to indicate the Garden Tomb. But if you don't think so, I'm happy to hear your theory." "A stony face" he slowly nodded in agreement and, turned to her men. he said something in Russian, and they rushed out to do her bidding. nderstanding bits of what she'd said, Indy scowled. If you had him here this whole time, why the hell did you need me? "Getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Indy looked at his family, and then towards the door. The men brought in Joseph and Oxley. Oxley was slightly roughed up, but Joseph couldn't even stand without help. He had obviously been tortured for days. His clothes were brown with his own dried blood, one eye was swollen completely shut, and there was a gaping wound on his left forearm that appeared to be infected. Joseph whispered," Indiana Jones? "With a cruel smile, Marta said," That's right Mr. Marlow. You didn't think I was going to give up just because you wouldn't talk did you? It took Dr. Jones all of two hours to figure out what you've been keeping from me for days. "He held his hands up in surrender." Don't be stupid, Marta. You can't take him to the tomb like that! It's a public place, and I don't know where the entrance to the tunnel is, so we may be wandering around for a while. Get a doctor to patch him up so he doesn't pass out on the way, and get him cleaned up so we don't attract attention to ourselves. "The woman considered this for a few seconds, and then said," Clever of you Dr. Jones, but not clever enough. I will have him cleaned up, but you will not be using this time to consult with your friends and family. "She called out new orders to her men. They hauled Joseph over to a chair, and dumped him in it. Then they grabbed Indy, tied his hands behind his back, and took him out of the room with them." Dad "utt said nervously, and started to stand. arion grabbed her son's hand and pulled him back down, while Indy said," It's fine kid. ust cooperate with them. "Marta had refused to let Indy anywhere near the rest of the captives during the truck ride over, and kept him by her side even now." Where do we start Dr. Jones? "Marta asked. Indy pointed to the last two bible quotes and said," These last two quotes talk about eyes, so we should start there. "He pointed to the outcropping of stone that resembled a skull. Marta nodded, and looked up at the sky. The evening was coming, and the tourists were thinning out. She spoke to her men, and they moved forward, leaving only Marta and one guard with the five captives in the parking lot. Marta said," We'll wait for their signal. "Thinking this was the
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perfect opportunity for escape, Mutt tried to catch Indy's attention, but the older man was focused on his paperwork. He looked at his mother with an eyebrow raised. She shook her head no. He scowled at her and nodded, trying to get her to agree to an attempted escape. When she still shook her head no, Mutt focused his attention on the guard. The older man had his gun pointed at Indy's stomach, but he was looking towards the tomb, and away from the group. Mutt saw his chance and took it. He kicked the man's gun hand, and while the gun clattered to the ground, Mutt tackled the man like a football player. The two tussled for a few seconds, both trying to get the upper hand on the other. They both heard a high pitched whistle and froze. Mutt turned towards the sound. Marta was pointing a gun at his head. "Puppy," she said, "I don't find your antics cute. Be a good boy and heel, before I decide to put you to sleep for good." "If you don't want him hurt, you'd better keep him in line." Marta aimed her gun in Indy's direction, and yelled at the guard in Russian, prompting him to scramble to his feet and grab his gun off the ground. "You okay kid?" Indy asked. He held out his hand, and helped Mutt to stand up. Glaring back at his father, Mutt said, "This was the perfect opportunity! If you'd pulled your eyes away from those papers for two seconds, you could have helped me! Then we'd be the ones holding the guns!" Indy shook his head and said, "You need to keep your head down, and stop drawing attention to yourself until this is over." He pulled Mutt in and hissed in his ear, "If you attack them without my permission again, my hand will be having an unpleasant conversation with your butt. We find the Seal first, then we escape." He pushed the boy back towards his mother, and muttered, "Playing the hero can get you killed." Marion put an arm around Mutt's waist in a side hug. Mutt's heart was racing. He'd been trying to help, and this was the thanks he got? Silence settled on the group, and a few minutes later, one of Marta's men came back to the group wearing a security uniform for the Garden Tomb. He waved them forward, and the group walked across the parking lot, while a few tourists moved towards their cars, complaining that their visit to the tomb had been cut short. While the parking lot cleared out, Marta made sure all the real guards were knocked out and tied up, so that her men could take their places, and keep the area secured. The rope jerked to a stop, causing Indy's body to bump against the cliff. Latching his fingers into the crevice that formed the right eye, Indy pulled himself up close. He held a lighter up so he could see in the fading light. All he could see was dust. Feeling around inside the eye, he wiped off some dust. The only thing he found was a tiny indent the size of half a marble. Pulling himself across the cliff face to the other eye socket, he found nothing, except another indent. He pushed the tip of his thumb into the indent, but nothing happened. "Hey!" he called up to Marta. "Send one of your flunkies down here! I need to reach both eyes at once, and my arms aren't long enough." Indy moved himself over to the first eye, and looked around the rock for any other clues while he waited. A few minutes later, he saw Mutt being lowered down towards him. Glowering he yelled up to Marta, "I said a flunky!" "Come look at this." Indy waved him over. Once Mutt was close, the older man pointed to the indent and said, "There's an indent just like this in the other eye. I want to try pushing on them at the same time. Indy counted, and then they both pushed on the indents together. When nothing happened, Mutt looked over at his father, wondered what to do next." I guess it was a long shot, "Indy said." Feel around and see if you can find "A deafening rumbling of the earth cut Indy short. The ground all around them shook for a few seconds, causing the men who were holding the ropes to stumble. Indy saw Mutt drop a few inches, and sway." Dad! "Mutt yelled with panic, and held his hand out to the older man. Indy pushed off from the rocks to swing himself closer to his son, and grabbed Mutt's hand. The two of them swung back towards the rocks, and Indy yelled," Try to find a foothold on the rock! "It didn't take long, before both of them were scrambling over the edge, to stand with the others on the top of the cliff." What happened? "Marta demanded. Indy pointed down to the ground level and said,
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"The seal is under the tomb. Something just opened up down there." "Well then" arta gestured with her gun. What are we waiting for? "Indy and Mutt stepped out of the ropes that had been holding them up, and walked back down along with the group. When they got to the actual tomb, they all saw what the rumbling had been. The back wall of the tomb had shifted back six feet to reveal a stairway made of stone under the ground. Marta rushed to the entrance, and ordered one of her men to shine a light down it. They could see nothing but stairs leading down into the darkness. With a dismissive glare, she ordered two of her men to go first. Indy, Mutt, and Marion came next, followed closely by Oxley and Joseph. Marta and two more of her men brought up the rear, leaving a few of her men up top to guard the entrance. The group went down, down, and down some more, until the light from the entrance far above them disappeared, and the air around them became cold and dank. Suddenly, Mutt heard a soft swishing noise, and the man at the front of their group yelled out in pain, before tumbling down the last five steps. Indy put his hands out, touching his wife and child, and hissed," Stand absolutely still. That was an arrow. "Arrowheads were sticking out of the walls waiting to be tripped. Marta issued some orders, and her men started cautiously walking towards the arrows. Indy said," They're going to get killed, or get us killed, trying to get them out by hand. "" If I had my whip, I'd use that to get them out. As it is aybe if we put two of our belts together, that would be long enough to set off the arrows without anyone getting hurt. "She thought it over for a few seconds, and called one of her men over to her. She held out her hand, and he dug Indy's whip out from the military style backpack he was carrying. Marta held it up to Indy and said," If I give this to you, and then you try and turn it against me, I'll shoot the puppy first. "Glowering, Indy held his hand out, and she gave it to him. Three cracks of the whip later, the arrows had all been taken care of with no more casualties. Indy attached the whip to his belt, and said," Move slowly, and keep your eyes out for more. "Marta gestured for her men to take the lead again. The three Russian thugs walked past their fallen comrade looking for more arrows. They'd made it to the bottom of the stairs, and were walking through a stone tunnel. A few yards away, the tunnel made a sharp right. When no screams or other sounds came from the Russian men, the rest of the group quickly followed. The room at the end of the tunnel was empty, but the walls were covered with pictures and ancient writing carved into the stone." What is the meaning of this? "Marta shouted." Where is the Seal! "Marion shushed her, and pointed out the three scholars in the room. Joseph, Oxley, and Indy were all looking at the walls intently. Each drifted towards a different wall as they tried to decipher what the images and words meant. Joseph was the first to speak. He pointed to a picture and said," This shows that only a direct descendant of Solomon, or someone pure of heart, can control the power of the Seal. "Mutt had scanned all the pictures on the walls while the older men were trying to translate the words. He found his eyes drawn to a small picture near the corner of the wall Oxley was examining. The image was much less ominous than the others. There were no demons, no death, and no images of the Seal itself. It was a tiny image of a fish, and the fish appeared to be smiling. The fish was alone in a corner near the stone floor. All the other images ended three feet above the fish. Mutt walked closer, and kneeled down to get a better look." Hey Dad? "Mutt reached out and tapped the fish a few times." What do you suppose this one means? "The stone where the fish had been crumbled away, leaving a one foot square hole in the wall. A dusty looking dull gold ring lay in the rubble. Mutt was about to reach his hand in, when Marta shoved him out of the way. Mutt's body smacked into the wall, while Marta's fingers closed around the ring." Are you insane woman! "Joseph shouted." Don't touch it! You can't control it! You'll bring on the destruction of humanity! "" Fool! "Marta said as she shoved the ring onto her middle finger." Do you expect me to believe your tricks? You only want the Seal for yourself! But it's too late! It's mine! The power is all mine now! "Mutt scrambled to his feet, and went to stand by his mother. Marta made a
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fist, and held her hand up in the air. She started chanting in Latin, and the ring started to glow. Everyone else in the room backed away from her. "What's she saying?" Mutt asked his father. Joseph answered for him. "She's calling upon a demon from Hell to do her bidding." She said more in Latin, and he translated. "She's demanding that Asmodeus appear before her." They all heard Marta finish her chant. The entire room was bathed in a blinding light from the Seal for a full second. The light went away, leaving the Seal a dull gold color again. The only sound in the room for the next three seconds was breathing. Then Marta's face contorted into a grimace of pain, and she let out an ear piercing scream. She doubled over, held her stomach, and then fell to the floor still screaming. Mutt's shoulder's hunched at her tone. He turned at stammered, "Um well" H s eyes went back to the woman on the ground. M rta was still writhing on the floor and screaming while her men gathered around her watching. H s focus went back to his mother, when she put her hands on her hips in a very familiar unhappy gesture. M "I should hope so," Marion said. Joseph pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and quickly scribbled some words on it. He whispered in Mutt's ear, "If you're able to get the ring away from her, put the ring on your finger and say this." He handed the handkerchief to the boy. Joseph nodded, and opened his mouth to talk, but before he could, Marta's screaming stopped. Everyone turned to stare at her. She quietly stood and dusted herself off. With a smile, she ran a finger over the seal. "Marta?" one of her men asked. An inhumanly deep booming voice came from Marta's mouth, "I am Marta no more. I am Asmodeus." She made a fist, and pointed it at the man who had spoken. Asmodeus said some words in a language no one knew, and the ring started to glow. A few moments later, the Russian thug fell to the floor screaming. Asmodeus pointed the Seal at another of Marta's men, and started talking. Marion's eyebrows drew together for a moment while she thought about that. She looked back at Asmodeus, who had stopped pointing at the second man to work on the third, because he'd tried to run from the room. "Budapest?" Mutt asked. Indy grabbed Mutt and hissed in his ear, "No matter what happens, get the ring and put it on. Don't hesitate." Indy pushed the boy away from him, unhooked the bullwhip from his belt, and took aim. Asmodeus was pointing the ring at the second Russian man again, when the end of Indy's whip wrapped around the slender wrist of the woman Asmodeus had possessed. Indy yanked the whip as hard as he could, trying to pull Asmodeus off balance. As soon as he could move, the second Russian man ran from the room, escaping. Asmodeus stumbled, but stayed on his feet. He laughed at the feeble attempt to stop him, and pointed the ring at Indy while chanting. Mutt shook his head, feeling helpless, and lost. Marion snuck over to one of the Russian men writhing on the floor, and with stealth born from experience, she slipped the machete style knife from the sheath at his waist. She held it up and rushed Asmodeus. Indy hollered in pain, and dropped his end of the whip in the same instant that Marion tried to attack. Asmodus whirled around, and pointed the Seal at Marion. She instantly stopped in her tracks, unable to move. With a snarl, Asmodeus turned his head to glare at the boy. The moment of distraction allowed Marion to move her limbs again, and that was all she needed to complete her mission. While the demon's focus was off her, she raised the machete, and brought it down as hard as she could on Asmodeus' wrist, severing the hand from the rest of Marta's body. "No!" Asmodeus boomed. The room erupted in chaos. The two Russian men on the floor stopped screaming. Asmodeus and Mutt both went diving for the ring, while Marion, Indy, Oxley, and Joseph all rushed to block Asmodeus' path. Marion, being the closest to Asmodeus, took the brunt of his forward momentum, and the two crashed down to the ground, practically falling on top of Mutt. Suppressing a gag, Mutt snatched the severed hand up off the floor, and pulled the ring off as quickly as possible. He stood, dropped the hand, and shoved the ring on his own finger. On the floor in front of him, Marion, Indy, Oxley, and Joseph all struggled to hold Asmodeus down. The demon growled in rage, while the blood poured out of his host's body. The two Russian men stood up. Mutt held Joseph's handkerchief up and shouted the words, "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei!" One of the Russian men jumped on Indy
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, and tried to pull him off Asmodeus, while the second one lunged towards Mutt, knocking him to the ground. Indy and Mutt both fought with the thugs that had attacked them. Indy elbowed the Russian in the stomach, causing him to stumble. Indy stood up and soon the two were exchanging punches. Mutt and the other Russian rolled on the floor, both trying to get the upper hand in the fight. Mutt got a close up view of the Russian man's blood red eyes, and doubled his efforts. The kid landed a solid punch to the possessed man's temple, and rolled on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Joseph yelled, "Say it again, and point the Seal at Asmodeus when you say it!" Mutt scrambled to stand, and kicked the Russian man's side as hard as he could to keep him down. The second Russian man tried to step around Indy to attack Mutt, but Indy blocked him with a punch to the gut that took the possessed thug out of commission for a second. Mutt held out his fist, pointed the ring at Asmodeus, and repeated the Latin words. The Seal lit up, and the demon's deep inhuman voice screamed, "Nooo!" Marta's body started to convulse, as if she were having an epileptic seizure. Everyone that had been holding her down let go, and backed away. Indy kept exchanging punches with the Russian thug, and yelled, "A little help here!" Mutt pointed the ring at the thug, and said the same words. The ring lit up again, and the Russian man dropped to the ground. The instant the ring dimmed, Mutt turned it towards the second thug, and said the words a third time. Marta's body was the first to stop convulsing. Within seconds both Russian men stopped moving as well, and silence filled the room. Marion nudged Marta with the toe of her shoe. When that got zero reaction, Marion kneeled down and felt for a pulse. "She's dead," Marion said. "Their bodies couldn't handle the possession," Joseph said. "Marta's soul would have left her body the second Asmodeus took over." He gestured to the men on the ground and said, "Same for these two." Mutt yanked the ring off his finger, and held it out towards his father, not wanting to touch the thing anymore. Indy shook his head, and gestured towards Joseph. Mutt held it out to Joseph. "Wrap it in the handkerchief first," Joseph said. "I don't think it can cause problems as long as I don't put it on, but just to be safe." Mutt wrapped it up in the handkerchief, and handed it over to Joseph. Once he was rid of it, Mutt felt immensely better. Marion went to him, and pulled him into a tight hug. Relieved to still be alive, Mutt hugged her back tightly. Indy came over and wrapped his arms around the two of them at once. "You kept a level head in the middle of all that chaos," Indy said. "I'm proud of you, son." Oxley said, "We're not out of the woods yet. There are still three men with guns up there." He pointed to the ceiling. "They could be waiting to ambush us." Indy let go of his family, and picked up Marta's gun off the floor. "Let's be ready for them," Indy said, searching Marta's body for any hidden weapons. Marion searched one of the dead men, while Oxley searched the other. By the time they were done, they had three more guns and two large knives. Mutt rolled his eyes when his mother handed him a knife, and put the spare gun in Joseph's hand. "Wait," Mutt said, looking at the gun in Joseph's hand, "Why didn't Asmodeus just shoot us?" "I have no idea." Joseph said. "Maybe a demon can't possess a body that's already dead, so he wanted us alive." Oxley said, "Guns are a relatively new invention in human history. It might not have occurred to him." Indy led them cautiously through the tunnel and up the stairs. When they reached the top, Indy went out first, prepared to fight, but the tomb was disserted. He waved them all up into the tomb, and said, "Wait here." He went out alone to check the area. Minutes later he came back and said, "They're gone, and they took the car." "Mom?" Mutt couldn't quite believe his mother was looking forward to stealing a car. In fact, he couldn't quite believe she knew how. Indy shook his head. "We don't have the manpower left to lower two of us in front of the cliff again. We take the Seal to the Embassy, and I'll get in touch with a friend in the government. There's a facility where the American government keeps things like the Seal." Joseph shook his head and said, "But what if" ndy cut him off. It will be as
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safe there as it will be anywhere. t's impossible to have a one hundred percent guarantee that it will stay safe, no matter where we put it. ut right now, only a few of us even know it's been found, and that's the best protection there is. "Chuckling, Indy clapped Mutt on the back." Come on, son, let's get you home. If we're lucky you'll only miss one day of school. "Mutt looked around the room at his friends and family with a smile on his face. Earlier that day he'd walked down the isle, and received his diploma, officially ending his servitude in the prison his parents liked to call High School. His parents had thrown him a small party at their house to celebrate. Oxley had come, along with most of his co - workers from the auto shop, and the two friends he'd made while going to school. Everyone had eaten cake, and Mutt had opened some nice gifts, including an expensive looking set of tools from his boss at the auto shop. After he'd opened all the gifts, and thanked everyone, Indy handed Mutt an envelope. Mutt pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of his jacket." I know the person graduating doesn't usually give gifts, but "e nervously handed it over to his father and said," I thought you might like this. "'Indy exchanged a confused glance with his wife, and then took the envelope. He opened it up, and looked over the document inside. Indy starred at the paper for several seconds, while Marion looked at it over his shoulder." Oh, Mutt, "Marion said," what a lovely gesture. "Startled out of his sentimentality, Indy raised a confused eyebrow at his son. Mutt smirked," Now I can't get in trouble for opening a letter addressed to Henry Jones. "Laughing, Indy shook his head. With a smile on his face, he shook a finger at his son and said," I'll still put you over my knee if you open any mail with a Jr. after it. "
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I was beginning to get annoyed. How much more information would they need before I would be allowed to see the doctor? My world was collapsing around me and all they cared about was getting my personal and insurance information. "Okay Mr. Fox. All I need now is your insurance card and then you can have a seat over there. Dr. Haverty will be with you shortly," the receptionist said. Luckily, I was the only patient in the reception room. I felt uncomfortable enough just being there without having an audience. I had never talked to a shrink before so I was a little nervous. Dr. Haverty had been recommended to me by our company doctor but I wouldn't have been there at all if my boss hadn't insisted that I get psychiatric help. I admit that I needed help but the idea of having to talk about myself to some old man who couldn't possibly understand or appreciate my life bothered me. I hadn't met Dr. Haverty yet but I had developed a mental picture of him. I saw him as a short old man, bald on top with a horseshoe of long gray hair around the sides of his head. Sometimes I pictured him with a goatee and other times with a full beard. I usually pictured him smoking a pipe as he asked questions like, "How did you feel about that," or "How did that make you feel?" The receptionist was quite attractive and I had given her my best smile when I came in but I got no response from her. I tried to make eye contact with her again as I walked across the room to the door that led into Dr. Haverty's office. The receptionist looked at me, pointed to the door and then looked back down at the papers on her desk. That was part of my problem. I was losing the touch. I stepped through the door into the doctor's office but the room appeared to be empty. I stood for a moment and looked around. The room was cozy without feeling small. To my left against the wall was an oak roll top desk with a large red leather chair pulled up in front. The wall adjacent to the desk and across the room from where I was standing was made up entirely of bookshelves filled with books and journals. To my right, at the far end of the room was a window covered with heavy draperies. The room was dark except for the light given off by two lamps. One on the oak desk and the other a floor lamp next to the stereotypical patient's couch that was positioned in the middle of the room facing away from the desk. The low lighting of the room added to the feeling of coziness. The room had a definite smell. I noticed the slight scent of a woman's perfume but there was another smell and it was more overwhelming than the perfume. The only way I could describe it was that it smelled like despair or was that just my imagination. I was still contemplating the scent of the room when the chair at the desk began to turn and I found myself facing a young woman. She looked no older than thirty. I was shocked because I had thought that I was alone in the room. I was initially confused. What was this woman doing in the doctor's office? Dr. Haverty was about five feet five inches tall with long dark hair. Her eyes were brown and warm. Even the professional looking pants suit she was wearing couldn't hide the sensual shape of her body. She was hot. I wanted to punch myself for sounding so stupid. I had never had trouble talking to a beautiful woman before. I couldn't understand why was I so tongue - tied? I thought about that for a minute and realized that I did want to be there. I wanted to get help with my problem but it took my boss to insist and now that I had met Dr. Haverty and saw how hot she was I really wanted to be there. I just wished that the couch was turned so that I was facing her. This was the part I didn't like. I had been dreading talking about my problems when I thought the doctor was an old man. It was going to be even harder to open up to this sexy woman. I was still hesitant but I was beginning to think that maybe by opening up to this woman and telling her about myself I could get her to like me. Maybe even make her want me. One way or another I was going to have to talk to her so I might as well try to make the best of the situation. "Well, you saw me when I came in," I said. "I don't think I am bragging when I say that I am a handsome man. Women have always been attracted to me. There have been very few times since I had my first girlfriend that I haven't had more than one girlfriend at a time including when I was married." "I never thought of it as a need. I just liked having more than one girl to have sex with. I liked the variety I guess," I said. "I haven't had sex with a woman in five months. I can't even get a date with
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a woman. I used to go to bars at night and the women would come on to me. Now they avoid me. "" Because they are women. Who the fuck knows why they do things? I was good to all of them. I always told them what they wanted to hear and I kept them happy in bed. What more could they want? Hell most of these women were married so it wasn't like they should be expecting more out of the relationship. It wasn't like I promised to marry any of them. "" Okay. I was born in Knoxville and my parents moved to Paducah when I was seven. I've been here ever since. My mom and dad got divorced when I was fifteen. "" My dad was always out fucking some broad he picked up in a bar. One night my mom caught him in their bed with another woman. She threw him out of the house. "" Pissed off. I liked having my dad around. We used to do shit together. After the divorce he would come around and take me places but by the time I was sixteen he wasn't coming around anymore. "" No. I blame my mom. I love her but she made him go away. Maybe if she had loved him more he wouldn't have cheated on her. "" Yes. I was supposed to be spending the night at a friend's house but he got sick so his dad took me home. My mother was working the second shift at the hospital that night and was supposed to stay until one o 'clock in the morning to cover part of a shift for another nurse. "I walked into the house around nine o' clock and when I saw that no one was home I went up to my room. About 10: 30 I heard my father come in. I started to go downstairs to tell him I was home when I noticed that he had a woman with him. They both seemed to be drunk and dad led her straight into his bedroom." "Yes. I already knew about sex but I had never seen anyone doing it. My dad hadn't turned on any lights when they came into house but he did turn on the light in the bedroom. I noticed right away that he didn't close the door all of the way so I snuck downstairs and stood outside the bedroom and spied on them. When I looked in, my dad was standing behind the woman and was kissing her on the neck while he reached around and started to unbutton her dress." "When my dad had the dress unbuttoned he pulled it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Then he unhooked her bra and removed it. That was the first time I had ever seen a woman's breasts other than in a picture. I was so excited that I almost climaxed in my pants. Next, my dad pulled her slip and her panties down completely exposing this woman to me. I quickly pulled my cock out and climaxed in my hand without even stroking it once." "Of course. I was fifteen years old. I had been masturbating since I was thirteen. It was what my dad did next that really fascinated me. He pushed the woman down on the bed and he climbed between her legs and started to eat her pussy. I had never even dreamed about doing that but there was my dad sucking away on her puss." "Hell no. It gave me another hard on. The idea appealed to me right away and then when he got on the bed and she started to suck on his cock while he ate her I had a second orgasm. I had managed to catch both loads in my hand. They weren't very big after all, I was only fifteen." My dad had just started to push his cock into the woman when I heard the door open behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. My problem was to get my cock back into my pants before my mom saw me. I managed to hide my dick but not before my mom saw me standing at her bedroom door. She came over to me and put her hand on my shoulder and started to say something to me when she looked into the bedroom and saw my dad with his friend. "" No. I just thought that it was natural for a guy to want as many women as he could get. I guess it was a mistake for him to bring his lady friend to our house but my mom wasn't supposed to come home that early. "" Like I said, he didn't leave my mom kicked his ass out. Other than that I had a pretty good childhood. I don't remember anything all that upsetting happening to me. "" You know I never really counted but there were more than a fifty over the last eighteen years. Some lasted more than a year, others only a night or two. You want me to talk about all of them? "" I want to hear you tell your story without interruptions, "she said." That will give me a better feel for who you are than if I lead the conversation. Don't worry, I will have questions when you
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are done talking. "" Don't worry, I am not easily offended. I have heard it all before, "she said. Just tell the story as if you were bragging to a friend only don't exaggerate. Try to be truthful." It was funny. I had always wanted to brag about my sexual exploits to a woman and now I was going to get the chance. For the next forty - five minutes I talked nonstop. What follows, as best as I can remember, is the story I told Dr. Haverty that day. My first real girlfriend was Tracy Fowler. We started dating toward the end of our senior year in high school and by May we thought we were in love. We had been dating for just over two months when I took Tracy's virginity at her parent's house. Tracy's parents were going out of town for the weekend and they were leaving Tracy at home alone. Earlier in the week Tracy and I were sitting in my car necking when she told me about her parents going away for the weekend. We began discussing what we could do while they were away but I was afraid to suggest having sex so I suggested that we have a party. Tracy nixed that idea. She said she would never be able to get away with that. The neighbors would tell her parents. I had Tracy pretty hot that night so I asked her if we could have sex when her parents were away. I was surprised when she agreed. I guess she was as eager to try it as I was. The night Tracy's left we had been at a dance at the high school. We went to Tracy's house after the dance, put some music on and sat down on the sofa. I immediately put my arm around her and we started necking. You have to remember that we were just eighteen years old and neither of us had any prior sexual experience. I had done some necking before but nothing more than that. Our kissing quickly escalated from light pecking to very passionate kisses. I slipped my tongue over Tracy's lips and she opened her mouth just a little and let my tongue run between her lips. For the next several minutes we were locked in deep tongue kisses. I began rubbing Tracy's breasts through her shirt. Tracy pulled my hand away from her breasts and pushed me off her. She stood up and I was starting to apologize for whatever I had done wrong when she stopped me. Then she started to unbutton her shirt. I asked her to let me do it for her and I stood up I opened the rest of the buttons on her shirt and helped her take it off. Tracy dropped the shirt on a chair and turned to face me. I couldn't help staring at her bra and I began to have difficulty breathing. Tracy opened the button on her jeans and unzipped them. Then she pushed the jeans down over her hips and let them slide down her legs to the floor. She was now standing in front of me wearing only her bra and panties. I wanted to tell her how sexy she looked but I couldn't seem to get my mouth to work. Tracy bent down and picked up her jeans and placed them on the chair where she had put her shirt. By the time Tracy sat back down next to me my cock was almost ready to explode. I started kissing her again and playing with her breasts. I took my time and was very gentle. I knew that Tracy might stop me at any moment so I didn't want to scare her by moving to fast. By the time I finally reach around behind her and unhooked her bra she was ready. I removed her bra and threw it on the chair with the rest of her clothes and began to gently kiss her breasts. I kissed and sucked on one and then the other. I licked and sucked on her nipples. Then I ran my hand up her leg and let it rest on the outside of her panties for a minute. I waited to see if she was going to stop me and when she didn't make any move to stop me, I began rubbing her pussy through her panties. I could feel the heat from her sex on my fingers followed by the growing damp spot in her panties. Tracy pulled my mouth to hers to kiss me and I slipped my hand inside her panties and began rubbing her naked pussy. I had never touched a woman down there before. The only actual pussy I had ever seen was the one I saw that night in my dad's bedroom. I liked what I was feeling but I had no idea what I was supposed to do. The only thing I knew was that whatever I was doing Tracy seemed to be enjoying it. I pressed my fingers against her slit and one of them slipped inside her. I loved the way she felt inside, warm and wet. I wiggled my finger around as I moved it in and out of her slit and while I did this Tracy started humping my hand and letting out a soft moan. I didn't know it at the time but Tracy apparently had a small orgasm while I was fingering her. I continued to push my finger in and out of her and her pussy juices began to run down my wrist. I
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continued to finger Tracy's pussy as she slid down onto the sofa. Tracy was lying on her back with her eyes closed and when I pulled my hand out of her panties, she sighed but didn't open her eyes. I stood up and removed my pants, shirt, and my underpants and dropped them on the floor. Then I began to pull Tracy's panties off. She opened her eyes but didn't say anything. She just stared at my stiff cock. I stood next to the sofa and Tracy reached out and touched my cock. It jumped and surprised her. Tracy laughed and I made it jump again. Then she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled me closer to her. Tracy kept her hand on my cock as I sat back down with her. She began stroking me as I went back to sucking on her nipples and pushing my finger inside her pussy. After a few minutes I kissed Tracy and then asked if she was ready. "Tracy watched me roll the condom onto my cock. I had practiced putting a condom on, so that I wouldn't look foolish the first time I used one. I was having difficult time trying to remain calm as I was getting more excited by the second, knowing that in a minute I was going to actually be inside Tracy for the first time. Inside a woman for the first time. I had been waiting for this moment for a long time. I got between Tracy's legs and lay on top of her and I used my hand to guide my cock to her opening. It took me a few tries to find the hole and when I felt the tip of my cock pressing against her pussy I felt my excitement growing. I finally found the opening and as I began to slide my cock into her, I had to stop when I was in only a short way. Tracy asked if it was going to hurt and I said I didn't know. Tracy said do it fast, and get it over with." I gave one quick push and slid all of the way into her. Tracy gave a little whimper, and then she made me stop and hold her for a minute until the pain went away. I was very gentle and kept asking her if she was all right. In a couple of minutes she told me to start moving slowly and she should be okay. For the next fifteen minutes I stroked in and out of Tracy very slowly, bringing her to one terrific orgasm and then I climaxed. I held her for a few minutes then I pulled out. Afterwards, we sat and watched television in the nude and played around with each other. Tracy liked playing with my cock and I wanted to get a better look at her pussy. We explored each other's bodies for a while and when my cock got hard, I got another condom out and we had sex again. After that first night, we had sex every chance we got usually in the back seat of my car. In the middle of July I ran into Karen Barnett one night, when Tracy was out of town visiting her grand parents. Karen was really hot. She had blond hair and blue eyes and a great body. Until that night I thought I was in love with Tracy and would never cheat on her, but when I sensed that Karen liked me I knew I had to have her. I managed to give Karen the impression that I had broken up with Tracy without ever saying that I had. Otherwise, she would never have agreed to go out with me. Karen was a friend of Tracy's so I had to be careful that Karen didn't find out I was still dating Tracy and that Tracy didn't find out I had started dating Karen. The first time I had sex with Karen was in the back seat of my car. The car was a ten - year - old Lincoln Town Car my uncle sold me. It was a great car for going out on dates because of the large back seat. Tracy and I had fucked many times in the back seat of that car by the time I got Karen into the back seat. That night I took Karen out to a movie and then we went parking. The uncle that sold me the car had an old farm a few miles outside of town and that was where I always went parking. It was private property but I had my uncle's permission to be there. I parked the car far enough up the driveway that it couldn't be seen from the road and we sat and listened to the radio as we began necking. After a half hour of heavy petting, with our clothes on, I suggested that we get in the back seat. There was something in the way that Karen had teased me; that told me she had done this before. Knowing this, as soon as we got into the back seat I started to unbutton Karen's shirt and she didn't stop me. I soon had Karen's shirt and bra off and was sucking on her nipples. Karen was wearing shorts with an elastic waistband, which made slipping my hand inside her panties quite easy. I had just started to finger her pussy when Karen stopped me. Karen lifted her legs up and pushed her shorts and panties off in one quick motion
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and then she pulled me on top of her and kissed me. I slipped my hand between us and started to finger Karen's already wet pussy. Karen began nibbling on my ear and then started to whisper to me. I couldn't believe what she was asking me. It was something I had thought about many times after seeing my dad doing it but I had never had the nerve to suggest it to Tracy. Karen had me so horny that the idea of getting my face that close to her pussy appealed to me very much. Karen moved back so that she was leaning against the door and her legs were on the seat. I had to open the door on my side of the car to get more room. I had my feet on the ground outside the car, and I leaned in and moved my upper body onto the seat between Karen's legs. Karen moved her right leg out and put her foot up on the back of the driver's seat giving me access to her pussy. My car was full of the musky scent of her sex. There was nothing unpleasant about the smell so I was encouraged to move closer to her mound. The closer I got, the stronger her scent became and the more I liked it. When I was close enough to press my lips against her pussy, Karen put her hands on the back of my head and pulled my mouth against her wet opening. After her orgasm Karen told me it was my turn but I didn't know what she meant. She told me to take my pants off and get back in the car, which I did. Then Karen took my cock into her mouth. This was my first blowjob and it was fantastic. Karen had me close to climaxing a couple of times, but she seemed to know when to stop to keep me from coming. I didn't think I could handle any more when Karen finally stopped. I reached for my wallet and pulled out a condom but when Karen saw it she said, "You don't need that. I'm safe. I'm on the pill and I want to feel your juices inside me" So I dropped my wallet and the condoms on the floor and moved on top of her. Karen put her right leg up on the back of the front seat and her left leg going up the back seat with her foot on the rear deck under the window. I got between her legs and pushed my cock into her pussy. I had known all along that Karen wasn't a virgin but she was so tight, that she could easily have made me believe she was a virgin if she had wanted to. When I was all the way inside her tight, warm, and juicy love tunnel; I was laying on top of her with my knees bent and my feet pressing against the window in the back door. I began stroking my cock into Karen and she lifted her hips on each down stroke. We soon had a very comfortable rhythm going and we kept that steady pace until we both climaxed. That was the first time I had sex without a condom and it was the best. I knew right then that no matter what happened with Tracy I was going to keep fucking Karen. Everything was great until the middle of August. I was dating both Karen and Tracy and getting more sex than I had ever dreamed of getting. It was then that Tracy told me she didn't want to go out with me any more. She said she was going to be leaving for college in two weeks and she didn't want to be going steady anymore. It pissed me off that she broke up with me but I was sure that she'd be back. I was her first and a woman never forgets her first. I knew that she would always be thinking about my cock and how it felt that first time. I knew that I would bed her again and I told her so. "Barry, we are just getting started. You will need to tell the rest of your story so that you can understand what is happening to you. We will have to meet at least five more times, maybe more. It all depends on you," she said. "Any woman can be taken from her man. If you know the right things to say to a woman it doesn't matter how much she loves another man, she can still be seduced. If you happen to be the one who took her virginity it just makes it easier to take her," I said. I showed up ten minutes early for my second appointment with Dr. Haverty. I wanted to use the extra time to see if I could get a date with Linda. When I walked into the office Linda looked up at me and smiled. "That is very inappropriate behavior. I don't want you trying to get dates with my staff do you understand?" Dr. Haverty said. I could hear anger in her voice. "Okay, I got the message. Sorry." I said. In the back of my mind I wondered if she was jealous. I hoped she was. "Last week you were telling me about Tracy and Karen," Dr. Haverty said. "You said that Tracy broke up with you because she didn't want
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to be going steady with you when she left for college. Why don't you pick up your story from there? "
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It was a crazy time for everyone. You know how it is in August. The rains are really heavy, and half the time the school bus is late. Or your shoes get wet on the way to the bus stop and you feel so cold! And when you get to school, the prefect scolds you for being late or not wearing your socks. (I told her they were wet, but she just would not listen. She can be mean!) August is also when all the festivals come. I don't know why they must always come in the monsoon. November, now that is a good month! Lots of good things happen in November. My friend Aishwarya's birthday is in November, for example! August is a month of wet shoes and unit tests. In the middle of all the unit tests and homework, this year, my school decided to have a dance program for Navaratri. Practices would start two months early, in August. Of course, Aishwarya and I raised our hands to participate. Aishwarya is the best dancer in my class. And I also love to dance. There would be three different dance performances on the last three days of Navaratri. The small girls would dance the first day. They were going to do many folk dances of India - bhangra, garba, koli dance and dances like that. The big girls would dance the second day. They were going to dance some story about Rama or Krishna. The best dancers in the school - small and big - would dance on the third day. I feel very proud to tell you that we were straight away chosen for the third day. I told you Aishwarya was the best and I am also quite good. On the third day, we would each get a chance to choreograph (that means to make up your own dance and dance steps, in case you don't know) a small dance item for about five minutes. We could choose our own music and if we wanted we could ask others to dance with us or we could dance solo. Wasn't that exciting? Aishwarya and I began to discuss what music we wanted to use. We both like to dance, but we like different music. I like film songs, remixes and pop music but she likes classical music. We decided to make up two dances but On Teacher's Day in our school, the teachers go away for a holiday and the senior girls teach. They dress up in saris and wear make - up and they come to our classes and we have to be nice to them. In the afternoon, they treat the teachers to lunch or to a movie, but we are not allowed to go. Anyway, that morning, while other people were in classes, the head - girl was supposed to check and make sure everyone had chosen their music and begun thinking about their dance. That was when it happened. It was Aishwarya's turn to play her music and show the head - girl that it would not take more than five minutes. When she reached into her bag, there was no tape. The head - girl got quite angry. Aishwarya said, "I promise, I brought it, I did the work, it was right here in this pocket." But it wasn't. I had also seen the tape there. I told the head - girl but she just scolded me also. Crest - fallen, we left the auditorium where we had assembled for this. Aishwarya was going to cry, I could see, so I consoled her saying that it could have fallen out of her bag when she was getting off the school bus. "Was it a copy or the original?" "A copy," she said, brightening. So I went with her to her house straight from school and we made another copy. We showed it to the head - girl the next day and played it for her and she said it was okay. We were very relieved! We were already practicing by our selves, but the big rehearsals began on the 13th of September, which would give us about a month before the big show. There is a girl called Rachna in the eighth standard. She has been learning dance for a long time and she was going to do a Kathak - style dance. She was putting on her ghunghroos when she suddenly screamed. Her hands and her foot were bleeding and there was blood all over the ground. She was crying and the head - girl held her while telling people to go get a teacher, get the first aid kit, and get someone grown - up. Aishwarya and I stayed put and we saw what had happened. There was a rusty nail sticking out of the ghunghroo from between the bells on the inside, so when she tied it on, it poked her and tore her skin. But why would there be a rusty nail in a ghunghroo she had used and put away carefully just the previous day? We felt very sorry for Rachna. It did not look like she would be able to dance for a few days at least and we knew that if she missed practice she may not be allowed to dance at the show. How disappointed we would be in her place! The teachers arrived, and the head - girl was sent
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to take up practice again. So we got distracted too. Practice was everyday and so we were back the next day in the same place at the same time. Everybody except Rachna was there. That day, our dance teacher and the vice - principal also came and as the head - girl called us one by one, they made some notes. They wanted to decide the sequence in which we would dance at the show. At the end of the session, we walked over to where we had kept our bags and shoes. Aishwarya and I were busy talking, as we got ready to go, when something fell. We swung around and it was a big cardboard box full of old newspapers. One of the seventh standard students was standing under it and she fell, but when she fell, she knocked down an umbrella stand. Thank god, there were no umbrellas to poke her eyes! She just sat on the ground in shock. We just stared, rooted to the ground. No one moved to help her. It had happened so fast that we were stunned. The teachers came running. One of them helped her up and checked for injuries while the other turned around and asked us, "Who kept that box there?" "We don't know, ma 'am. We didn't see anybody." "Who else was here?" We couldn't answer that question either. It was not a very good question anyway because during the day anyone could have come there. And in any case, only some of the big girls could actually reach that place to put something there. The third day, we heard that Rachna had to have tetanus injections. We did not know if she would be able to dance in the show. The seventh standard girl was there - we found out her name is Meena. The rehearsal went smoothly except that some of us started giggling and couldn't stop at all. But even the head - girl was smiling so it was okay. We escaped! When we came out, one of the girls put her foot in her shoe, and screamed - there was a dead lizard inside. The shoes had just been there an hour or so. How long does it take for a lizard to crawl in and die? We shuddered and left. Still, we gave it no thought. After all, our school had large grounds and a garden. The next day, when we went for practice, our teachers came back. They wanted to finalize the sequence of dances. So we all did our dances according to the order that they had prepared earlier. Just after mine was a fifteen - minute dance by three girls who had pooled in their time. It was very nice, a little story actually. I was removing my ghunghroos and standing under a fan, when one of them slipped on stage. Ouch! The teachers, the head - girl and everyone else crowded on stage. They made us all go away. I did not understand. Aishwarya and I had just danced there and we had not slipped. I was going to say this to Aishwarya and I noticed she wasn't standing with me. Everyone else had gone and the stage was empty. Maybe she went to the bathroom, I thought, and I picked up her schoolbag and mine and went outside. We heard the next day that there was cold cream on the stage. What I did not understand was how anyone could have put cold cream on the stage between our dance and theirs. There was hardly any time in between and everybody was right there. I replayed what had happened then. I left the stage first, and then Aishwarya did, a few seconds later. As soon as I got off, the head - girl came to ask me if my dance had a name. Then the teachers also came to talk to me. They wanted to tell me that I needed to bring full information about the song I was using Our next day's rehearsal was cancelled since they had to clean the stage. hen we met two days later, the head - girl was absent. nother captain took up our practice. he was allergic to something in the room and kept on sneezing, her eyes watering. t was very mean of us but we could not stop laughing. inally, she stopped practice early and we all came home. The teachers came the next day because the head - girl was still sick. For three days, the rehearsals went smoothly. Then on the fourth day, something else happened. Again it happened to Aishwarya's tape. I was sure it was jinxed. She put her tape in and it did not play beyond a couple of notes, it did not play. So we all crowded around the cassette player to see. It was stuck. Well, that happens, you will say! But here's what was really strange - it was stuck by bubble - gum! Just minutes ago, one girl had been dancing to another tape, and now suddenly there was bubble - gum in the cassette deck. How could this happen? Aishwarya is so finicky, her first reaction was not, "My tape is spoilt!" but "Yuck! Jootha bubble gum!" I couldn't stop laughing, but inside a part of
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me was wondering. What is going on? The following morning, I asked one of the girls in my class, Annie, who was in the other program if their rehearsals were going okay. She said, "Yes, we are practicing everyday. But I heard that things keep happening at your rehearsals." I told her about the nail, the dead lizard, the cardboard box, the missing tape and the bubble - gum. She shook her head and said, "Too bad Nancy Drew isn't here!" No, I thought, but I am. Did I already tell you that I love detective stories? Why don't I solve this mystery, I thought. The first puzzle was to decide whether these were just many accidents or very foul play. Could there be so many accidents in a row? That would make it a jinx. But do jinxes exist? That was a mystery I could not solve. I knew that. It seemed highly unlikely that everyday for a week almost one thing should go wrong. I decided it was foul play because it just did not seem right to me. I was going to tell Aishwarya about it. After all, she was my best friend and we kept no secrets from each other. For some reason, I did not get a chance that day. The next day, I woke up with red, itchy eyes. I hate conjunctivitis! So I could not go to school or see Aishwarya after school. No storybooks, no TV. But I had a lot of time to think about this mystery as my mother made me lie down with my eyes closed. I went over the events of each day. Day One: Aishwarya's tape had gone missing. One minute it was there and the next, it wasn't. Day Two: Rachna and the rusty nail. Even now I shudder to think about it. Day Three: The falling cardboard box and the near miss with the umbrella stand. Day Five: Cream on the stage. Right after our dance. Day Six: Chewing gum in the cassette deck. Poor Aishwarya! I began to think about it. Detectives in storybooks always look for motives. So why would anyone do these things? Were they meant to be a joke? Impossible because the rusty nail could have become really seriously septic and box and cream resulted in fractures. I couldn't think of anyone who would find those things funny. Someone, I thought, was trying to stop the program from taking place. But who? And why? Maybe it was someone who was not chosen to take part. But they would have had to be at the rehearsals each time. The dead lizard was put into that girl's shoe during the rehearsal. The cream on the stage and the bubble - gum in the tape deck were put right before they were found. In the case of the first, we had just finished dancing and in the case of the second, someone else's tape had just been taken out of the deck. This brings us to the next question all detectives ask. Who had the opportunity? All the girls who were at the rehearsal. I could not suspect the teachers. After all, what would they gain from the cancellation of the programme? For that matter, it was hard to see what the head - girl would gain or what any of the participants would gain. Still, a good detective would not give up so easily. So I began to think. Who could have removed the tape from Aishwarya's bag? Only she and I knew it was there. I did not. Why would she? Who could have found a rusty nail and put it in Rachna's ghunghroo? Anybody could have found the nail. Who would have had a chance to put it in the ghunghroo? I thought about all of us at the rehearsal. We would come in to the lobby of the auditorium and take off our shoes and leave our bags. Then we would go in with our ghunghroos (if we were using them) and put them on. Then, I remembered. That day, Rachna did not put hers on immediately. She was putting them on in the middle of rehearsal when she found the nail - or rather, the nail found her! So, someone could have put the nail there while she was watching the rehearsal. I began to think of who else was in the room. We were not allowed to the leave without permission and as far as I know everyone stayed inside. Except Rachna. She got permission to use the toilet, and her ghunghroos were lying in the seat next to Aishwarya. Everyone else was sitting too far away to get up and walk to them without being noticed or scolded. But of course, Aishwarya would never do such a thing. I was left pondering. Similarly, who could have put the cardboard box in that odd place? First of all, none of us were tall enough. Yes, anyone could have walked in and done it, but why would they? It had to be someone from this group. That was a tough one. Someone would have had to carry it in unseen, and then found a way to keep it on top so that it would fall down. It was easier to see how
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someone could slip a dead lizard into a shoe. But the thought that someone would find a dead lizard, carry it in and then drop it in a shoe was just horrible. Who was so full of hatred or anger that they were willing to carry a dead lizard? I could not think of anyone like that, least of all in our dance programme group. Then, I remembered something really unpleasant. Aishwarya had found a dead lizard in her house and was going to bring it to school to show in science class. She was less squeamish than I about animals but I know her, I love her and I know she is not like that. She is too nice to do such a horrible thing. The cream on the stage was the next accident. Again, I remembered that Aishwarya had not been with me right after our dance. We were all talking on the side and she came joined us a minute or two later. She certainly had the opportunity. But what would be the motive? After all, a cancelled show meant that she would not get to dance. I could not believe I was actually wondering about my best friend. I got really angry with myself and tried to fall asleep. But that doubt remained with me. And then it cleared. After all, Aishwarya was the victim of the next accident. Why would she spoil her own tape with chewing gum? My mind answered: so that no one would suspect her. This was not nice at all. I did not want to be a detective any more. I wanted to cry. But my eyes were hurting and it was hard to cry. What a horrible day! It is not nice to walk around school suspecting your best friend of doing mean things. For that matter, it is not nice to walk around school suspecting that anyone there would be that mean - spirited. I think most people are actually nice. I could not tell anyone what I thought. After all, she was my best friend and I could not say bad things about her. It was a horrible day at school. Particularly because Aishwarya was so nice to me all day. As soon as I walked in, she came running and gave me a hug and said, "I missed you so much!" Then she had got me a chocolate. I had spent the entire day at home thinking about how she could have done those horrible things. So I decided, such a nice person cannot do those things. It is impossible. I am a very stupid and a very bad person. We had rehearsal again in the evening. This would be the last one for a week. We had to practice everyday by ourselves but would not practice in sequence until next week. Everyone wanted to know where I was the previous day, were my sore eyes okay now, where did I catch the disease. It was nice that all the big girls also came and talked to me. I felt very important. I cannot forget what happened that day. In Aishwarya's dance, there was a part where we had to dance together like those ballerinas. You know, where the male and female ballerina dance together and the male ballerina holds the female ballerina? They do very hard things like jump and he carries her in the air and all. Of course, we could not do all that. We were supposed to circle the stage with Aishwarya standing behind holding me. We were moving really fast, and suddenly she left me. I fell on my face, and cut my chin. I also bruised my knee. There was lots of confusion and people after that. But I remember two things clearly. First, I remember that everyone crowded around, asking how I was, telling me not to cry, getting me water. Aishwarya was not there. She was just standing in the back. And she did not say sorry. When I thought that, I started crying. I know I am not a baby and I should not cry like that. That is what my mother said when she came to school. When I saw her I cried even more. How could my best friend be so mean? So I did. What a relief to tell someone all about the accidents, and the motive, and the opportunity, and how terrible it was that my best friend would do these things. She listened quietly. Then, instead of saying, "We must get her expelled," she began smiling, then laughing. "My dear girl," she said, "what you have is what Perry Mason calls circumstantial evidence! Those are all coincidences. It does not mean Aishwarya did those things. It is just that she could have done them or that they happened in ways that she could have done them." When she said that, I felt so light. Of course. I always watch Perry Mason on cable TV. Of course. Actually, I was never sure what circumstantial evidence meant, but now I knew and I was so happy to know. Just then, the phone rang. It was Aishwarya's mother. "Aishwarya has not stopped crying since she got home. She says she made your daughter get hurt. Is the child all right? Can we come over?" "She
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will be fine and it would be a wonderful idea for you to come over. "Ma looked at me and said," You have to clear this up with Aishwarya. "She was right, as always. Aishwarya and her mother came within an hour." I am so sorry, "she said." My hands were sweaty and you slipped out of them. We can change that part of the dance. "" What for? "Then, I told her. She got very angry with me." How could you think I would do such things? "I was very quiet while she talked to me angrily. I thought I deserved it for my suspicions. Suddenly, she began laughing. That is Aishwarya for you - one moment angry, one moment giggling." What are you laughing at? "I asked, puzzled. She could barely speak." How could I have put that cream, silly? You know I am allergic to cream and that is why I have to use coconut oil on my face and body. And that is why my hands got sweaty today. "I was so relieved, I also began laughing. We began talking about all the things that had happened and how strange they were. We decided that someone was trying to stop the show and that we would have to do something about it. 5. Investigation underway The next day during the short break, Aishwarya and I went to the corner of the school ground. We had a plan. At the next big rehearsal, we would not sit together before and after our dance. We would sit at two ends of the room and watch everyone closely - who comes in, who comes out, who looks suspicious. And if anyone left the room, one of us would sneak out and shadow them. The rehearsal began. Now, we were practicing in the sequence of the final program. Aishwarya's dance was fifth and mine ninth and so we both had to be present at the fifth and ninth items. That could not be helped. We would just have to hope that nothing happened at that time. Luckily the first person to leave the room left during the eleventh item. Aishwarya left to follow her, and I stayed behind to make some excuse for Aishwarya if anyone noticed. Aishwarya followed the girl to the toilet and straight back. That was both a relief and a disappointment. Just as she was coming back, another girl got up to go out, and she did not ask for permission. That made me suspicious. I got up to follow her out, but Aishwarya had not returned. Luckily she entered just as the girl was slipping out of sight. I moved quickly and slipped out of the auditorium. The girl walked out to a safe distance and pulled out a cigarette. I was shocked! But I was also a little relieved. The truth is, I am not sure what I would have done if she had been the person we were looking for. I am not the police or the principal after all. I saw her put the cigarette in her mouth, and then I went back to the auditorium. It was her problem that she had this bad habit and if I told, I would have to explain my sneaking out. She came back a few minutes later. I don't know how she hid the smell. The rehearsal ended, and we went out to the lobby area for our bags. The teachers kept their shoes at the end of the shelf. On the shoe next to theirs, there was a cigarette stub that was still smoking. We now had a suspect. The girl whose shoe it was, was Annie's cousin Louisa. The teachers were very angry with her and took her to the principal. I couldn't say anything, I felt really bad. The girl who was smoking just looked and looked away. Who was she? The next day, we asked some of the other girls who were one class ahead of us in school." Do you know all the girls in the programme? "They knew most of them. So we asked about each one - the girl in Rose house, the girls with the long hair in Lotus house, the girl whose shoe had the lizard. The girl who was smoking was Aarti and she was in the ninth standard. Aishwarya's cousin's friend was in the ninth standard, so we sat next to her at lunchtime." How come you are not dancing in that program? "we asked her." How did people get chosen in your class? "We did not really care, but we thought she would tell us about the other girls. We were quite clever. She did. Aarti had won a dance prize last year. Priya told us that she had lived in Japan when she was a child and she only joined our school two years ago. Aarti had a twin brother who went to another school (naturally, because ours is a girls' school). Aarti was also a good tennis player and she and her brother played together. Now, we were not that interested in Aarti. We did not know what information we really wanted so we let Priya talk and talk. We did not tell her what I had seen. One week before
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the program, we had one dress rehearsal so the teachers could check our costumes and we would have time to change them. At that dress rehearsal, we were watching Aarti closely. She just sat there. She had brought a book with her, and the only thing she did was to quietly read it while pretending to pay attention to the rehearsal. Four girls were about to perform a Naga dance. They had brought bamboo sticks with them and placed them on the side of the stage. When they went to pick up the sticks in the middle of the dance, the sticks were neatly cut into halves. They would have to go around Bombay looking for new sticks. The girls began crying. Aishwarya and I were dismayed. Aarti had not budged all hour long. It was not she. Then who? We left the rehearsal frustrated. We were silent all the way home and then I went to Aishwarya's house with her and we discussed what had happened. The girls had placed the sticks there, full at the beginning of their item. No, actually, they had done so right at the end of the previous dance, which was only by one person. There was however, some problem with their costumes and it was ten minutes before they started their dance. We tried really hard to remember where everyone was at that time and who went on stage. Rachna did. She had dropped something on the stage. But the rusty nail had hurt Rachna. Louisa went up to look for her ribbon, which had fallen off. Aarti had just sat and stared into space. Who could it have been? Aishwarya and I were really puzzled. Perhaps we were just not good detectives. I told my mother this, and she said, "Of course not, you are great detectives. If you want to do something you can do it excellently." Then, she looked at me and said, "But beta, some things are just meant to be mysterious." That did not make any sense to me. If we could be excellent detectives, why would we be unable to figure out who was causing these accidents? Sometimes mothers say strange things. We were getting really busy. The costumes had to be cleaned and pressed and ready. Each of us had two costumes and then we had to choose matching jewellery and things. Both our mothers were strict about what jewellery we could wear and so as far as possible it had to be things we made ourselves - no real jewellery and no buying jewellery and both our jewels had to match. So we were becoming good at crafting what we needed from aluminium foil, gold - colour paper, old beads and buttons. That is not what this story is about though - all I wanted to tell you is that the last week before the programme was really busy with all these small - small things. We had the first dress rehearsal - the first time we were meeting after the bamboo sticks were broken. All of us were tense. After all, so many accidents had taken place through the last two months. This rehearsal went off without a hitch. Maybe the jinx was over. Maybe we had had so much bad luck that now there was none left to have. That is what we hoped. They were false hopes though. I still cannot get over what happened at the second and final dress rehearsal (which was on the day of the second programme, but we used the stage first in the afternoon). I told you that in our programme, each of us had to choreograph an item for five minutes. The teachers did something really clever. They saw all our items and using something from each of them, made up an introductory and a farewell item in which all the students danced together. As the final dress rehearsal began, all of us then went on stage, and as we started dancing, one of the floorboards on the stage just snapped! I can still feel the stunned silence. We just froze where we were. Luckily no one was standing at that spot but we had all danced over it in the previous minute or two. The floor was fine all these days and the board just snapped right then. Some of the girls began crying. To tell the truth, I also felt like crying but I couldn't. I was like ice. I slowly looked for Aishwarya and she was shivering and sweating at the same time. The teachers came running up and the prefects also came and began leading us off - stage. The teachers sent for the school caretaker. This was a serious safety issue and also in three or four hours, parents would be coming in for the evening programme. We just sat around quietly for an hour or so, sometimes talking, sometimes just crying or sitting quietly. None of us could understand what was going on. After a very long time, the teachers came and sat down and asked us how we were. We muttered that we were okay. Isn't it strange that you never really say you are not? And I suppose that by saying you are okay, you become okay too. The vice - principal said, "It will take them a few hours to repair the stage, so today's programme is being postponed to the day after tomorrow."
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How disappointing for those students and their families! Then she looked at us and said, "This particular group has had more than its share of bad luck, so I am going to ask you this and I want you to tell me honestly as if I was your friend or your mother. We are willing to cancel this show if you all feel like you don't want to do this any more." "Think about it. If you don't want to do it, we can announce the cancellation today, and then you can perform this quietly during a school assembly some time. Nobody will say anything to you. Nobody will scold you." She paused again. "If you do decide to go ahead with the programme, then we will have the rehearsal in the morning, and the programme can go on in the evening." No one said anything. Everyone must have felt a little like I did. I was scared - what else could happen to us? But not dancing tomorrow was such a sad thought. Then my best friend said, "I think that we should still have the programme. After all, if someone is doing all this on purpose, we should not let them have their way." Then Aarti said, "I agree, we have been working so hard on this." She looked at Aishwarya and asked, "Do you really think someone is doing this on purpose." I almost blurted out, "Yes, and we thought it was you!" But luckily, I didn't. One by one, everyone expressed similar views. And Rachna said, "I must confess I am scared. I have already had one accident and so many horrible things have happened, I am afraid of what is left to happen." When she voiced that fear, she gave us all permission to be scared also. Scared or not, the teachers came back to a clear decision: The show must go on. We went back the next morning, with a prayer in all our hearts that everything should go well. Everyone - our parents, our teachers, and our classmates - told us we were really brave and they were really proud of us. That made us feel much better. Making the correct decision always feels good even if it is not safe or easy, don't you think? The morning rehearsal went well, although we were getting nervous. Everyone was really nice to us and one of the teachers actually bought us all samosas as a treat. (Although, if one of us had got an upset stomach it would not have seemed like such a good idea!) It was actually a holiday so we went home for lunch and returned at 4 to put on our first costumes and get ready. The show began at 6. From the stage we kept peeping out to see if our families had come yet. I spotted Aishwarya's family - her grandparents were there, and her baby cousin and all the other people. I spotted my family too - my mother was there and so was my sister. I pointed them out to Aishwarya. She began waving as if they could see from that distance, and she was waving so hard she almost fell out to the other side of the stage curtain! It was 5. 45. The teachers came in and made us all close our eyes and sit quietly for a long time. Then they asked us to breathe deeply, in and out, in and out. We learn yoga in school and that is called pranayama, in case you did not know. It makes you calm and it gives you energy. At 6 p. m. sharp, the curtains went up. The first chords of the first item started, and we all trooped out on stage. After that it was like clockwork. In to change, out to dance, in to change, help someone else, out to dance, in to change, sit quietly, help someone else, out to dance, start clearing up and packing up, out for the final dance item and then curtains. We got a standing ovation. Naturally. First of all, we were really good. Secondly, the audience had people who loved us and they would have clapped anyway. I said this to Aishwarya and she gave me that disapproving look of hers and said, "Come on, just accept that they liked it!" Sometimes she sounds like a grown - up! The principal was saying something on the mike. Suddenly, someone burst into the green room and said, "Come back to the stage all of you!" What a surprise awaited us there! Each of us got a special certificate (my mother called it "commendation") for courage and tenacity (that means that you stick to something once you start; I thought she said tennis - city!). The principal had told the audience all the things that had happened to us during rehearsals. She told them that in spite of everything, we wanted to dance that night. The audience stood up and gave us a standing ovation. Wow! I cannot tell you how great I felt. Aishwarya, who always has the right words for everything said, "That is what the seventh heaven of delight must be like."
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Aishwarya and I met our families off - stage and they had another surprise for us - we were going out for dinner and could choose between chat and pizza. Wow! What a perfect day! Aishwarya and I still don't know who did all those things. For that matter, no one does. Were they really accidents? Did someone try to stop us and fail? Maybe we will never know. What we do know is that we had a lot of fun - dancing, planning the dances and the costumes, playing detective (except for when I suspected Aishwarya) and then being the brave heroines of the school. I wish though that Rachna had not got hurt and the other bad things had not happened. And I am sorry that I had to keep quiet when Louisa got into trouble; luckily, they believed her. As our mothers said at the celebration dinner, you cannot know the reason for everything. And maybe it is not worth knowing. Maybe. I will leave it to you to solve the mystery. Why do you think it happened? Who do you think did it? How do you think they did it? While you worry about it, my friend and I have exams to study for, and Diwali to get excited about, and then Aishwarya's birthday on November 18th! All I can say is, "WOW!" Swarna Rajagopalan
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There was a house, not a real fancy house, nor not a very plain house, but a nice house. It was not a small house nor a big house either. It had a front porch for sitting and visiting when the mosquitoes would let you. Word was it belonged to a man named McLean: a man that had moved away from Manassas to this remote village to get his family away from the war after a cannon ball ripped through their kitchen. At any other time in the past four years this would have been a great irony. But, not today, the war stopped here. It was a Sunday in April when the soft woods are starting to bud, the hard woods, the oaks and the walnuts would wait until the days were a little longer before their stolid branches would turn green with leaves. Next to the house the hyacinths were beginning to push their blue tops out of the ground, and it wouldn't be long before the tulips came in. The house yard was just starting to turn from brown to green; that is where it was not worn down by treading. The eyes of sixty thousand men were watching the house knowing that a momentous event was to take place this Palm Sunday. First came General Lee dressed in his finest uniform, a shining saber at his side. He was astride Traveler who was known to every soldier in the Army of Northern Virginia. He stopped and patted Traveler's neck saying something that only he and the horse could hear. Dismounting he handed the reins to a young Union soldier then gave a perfunctory salute as he courteously removed his hat at the door. The wait continued: sixty thousand men and only a slight murmur here and there. Then out of the Union side came, "Hey, Johnny we sure licked you at Gettysburg". The tension broke for a moment with cat calls and whistles then grew quiet again. "You had us bested 'cause you had so many catch up with you that were still running away from Manassas Junction," came in retort. Cat calls and whistling again. Then it all stopped; General Grant had just ridden up to the house. He dismounted and all could see that his uniformCaptain Jonathon Jordan sat his horse so he could see over the heads of the men standing two hundred deep. He could see even at this distance the arrival of General Lee and General Grant. He said nothing; thinking only of what it would mean to be the conquered. Would they have to stay in some prison or would they be paroled? And what would it be like at home with the Yankees in charge. Would it be the same, probably not, but how would it be different. He hadn't heard from his family in over a year. They knew his brother had fallen at Sharpstown, but he wasn't able to find his body because the Yankees chased them off. He just hoped that some farmer would bury him and say a few words over him. He had heard how this Yankee general, Sheridan, had moved up the valley running off livestock and burning houses, barns, and crops. "I hear they're gonna let us keep our horses and maybe a sidearm," he heard from another soldier nearby. "I don't think they'll let us keep a rifle or anything like that though," came from another direction. "I live in the mountains and have to hunt for our food. How am I to do that with a pistol. Never could hit much with it anyway. Just used it to scare the Yankees," came from behind him. He picked up his reins from the horses neck and turned him and began to maneuver his way through the horses and men. "Hey whar you goin?" came from one soldier that had to move aside for him, "Just need to go back up in the woods for a bit," he answered. He was asked this question many other times before he reached the end of the men and the beginning of the woods. He rode though the woods in a running walk looking for just the right spot. Seeing a big oak tree that sort of stood in a bunch of blackberry bushes, neither had leaves yet, he turned around he looked to make sure he was out of sight. Riding up he tied his horse's reins to a bush and took out his saber. Putting the blade in the fork of the tree he pulled until it broke. Then leaving the point of the blade in the tree he began to use the other end to dig beside the tree. When he felt he had a hole big enough he went to his horse and took down a rolled up piece of Yankee tent. He laid it on the ground and unrolled it to see the almost new Spenser rifle along with two bags of cartridges then placed them in the hole. Taking his pistol from the hostler on his belt he looked at it and asked himself if the Yankees would let him keep this; it was a good Union Navy Colt he had taken off a dead Yankee officer at Spotsylvania Court House. He grimaced as he thought back and saw again that the Yankee blown completely in two. It had all stopped for him right at that moment: the war was over; I will fight no more;
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it's time for me to go home. He decided right then and there that he would stay with the troop to Lynchburg, but from there he would go home. He had given three years and a brother to the cause: a cause that was finished. That was enough. He placed the pistol with the rifle and threw in a bag of cartridges, rolled it all up and buried it leaving the broken blade in the tree to mark the spot. On the way back he crossed a small creek that was running with good clear water from the snow melt in the mountains. He stopped reached out and pulled the bridle off his horse and let him water off. The east reaching shadows were getting longer when he returned to the waiting men. The officers on the porch and in the yard were standing in small groups talking. The front door was still closed. He asked the time of those around him and one man had a watch; it was nearly four - thirty. He had just settled back in his saddle to wait when the front door opened and an officer stepped out. It was a pensive moment; the officers on the porch and in the yard gathered around. The sixty thousand men made very little noise. When an officer stepped to the edge of the porch and waved a paper the cacophony erupted. He could see the Union band playing in the street in front of the house but could not hear it over the shouting and guns being fired in the air. The southern boys were cheering but not as loud. It was a sad happiness; they had lost but it was over. The officers began to fan out, grey and blue, to find their commanders so the message could be passed down the line. He just waited and watched his eyes tearing up with emotion. He thought of it all: the blood, the blown off arms and legs, the sight of men dying of disease cramped over in pain, and death the sometimes relief, the life ending of so many young men. He asked himself the question that he had asked over and over again, "what makes men do this to each other. Where does it begin, and where does it end." He had no answer. "Captain Jordan, please come up." He heard in the distance. Touching his horse with his spurs he began to move through the crowd of men who were spreading to make a path for him. He saw a group of company commanders gathering around his regimental commander. "Here is the message we need you to take to the troops. We for the Lord's sake don't want any incidents. These are the conditions of surrender." He choked when he said the word surrender and his voice broke. It was a full minute before he could begin again. He took up a paper and began to read "'In accordance with the substance of my letter to you of the 8th inst., I propose to receive the surrender of the Army of N. Va. on the following terms, to wit: Rolls of all the officers and men to be made in duplicate. One copy to be given to an officer designated by me, the other to be retained by such officer or officers as you may designate. The officers to give their individual paroles not to take up arms against the Government of the United States until properly exchanged, and each company or regimental commander sign a like parole for the men of their commands. The arms, artillery and public property to be parked and stacked, and turned over to the officer appointed by me to receive them. This will not embrace the side - arms of the officers, nor their private horses or baggage. This done, each officer and man will be allowed to return to their homes, not to be disturbed by United States authority so long as they observe their paroles and the laws in force where they may reside.' There will be three days time before this is concluded and for that period we will be considered prisoners of war with all the rights and privileges accorded. The Yankees have agreed to give us rations during that period as is only fitting. Gentlemen, you must relay this to your companies in a manner that it will be understood my each man. Warn them that any offense will be dealt with in the most severe manner. Before you go I wish to thank each and every one of you for Jonathon turned his horse and began moving through the crowd looking for his junior officers. As he saw one he beckoned him to join him and the other officers. As they gathered he began to relay the terms of surrender. They all sat on their horses without talking." Gather 'round. Here are the conditions of surrender. "He told them what the cornel had read adding that they should find a way to help the enlisted men keep their horses. His heart sank; the man looked so down trodden," I doubt if anyone would take any Confederate money now. "Jonathon watched as the men rode through the men milling around. He felt almost sick inside thinking: four years and all those lives for what? The Confederacy is gone and slavery is gone. Seems like such a great price to pay. He spotted a clear spot beside a tree near the line
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set up to be the barrier. He stepped down loosened his girth slid the saddle off laying it on the ground beside the tree, He pulled the bridle off and stooped down to place a set of hobbles on the front feet. Looking around he saw that there was no grass to eat. He patted the horse on the neck saying softly, "I'll try and find you something to eat." They hadn't had any horse feed for a couple of days except for some dry corn fodder they found in an old vacant barn when out scouting. Some forage but not much nutrients. The horse stood there; his head down relaxed. He knew to rest when he could. "Cap 'n mind if we share the tree with you?" he asked stopping in front of Jonathon. "Sure, but I ain't a captain anymore, just a prisoner named Jonathon Jordan. Unsaddle your horse and hobble him over there with mine," he said without getting up. He motioned with his thumb towards where his horse was standing. "Name's Virgil Cain. Used to be a lieutenant but now I'm just like you a Yankee prisoner." He put his saddle against the tree, took off his tunic and folded it to make a cushion. Virgil looked to be a couple years younger than Jonathon. He was light in weight from the war, but you could see that he had long straight hard muscles built up from hard work. His hair was longer than he liked it and his beard, not a beard grown and groomed, but only from not shaving, was choppy and uneven. His uniform looked like everyone else tattered and thread bare, and boots were worm completely leaving holes in the soles and vamps. He wore only one spur. Both men leaned back and sat quietly. Virgil was the first to speak, "I hope they come right along with that food they promised us. I ain't et since day before yesterday. Then it was only some parched corn then." "Hope they bring some horse feed too. I ain't got as far to go as some, but I need Luther to carry me." Turning to look at Virgil he asked, "how far you got to go? I'm just north and west of Staunton. Folks got a place up there we farm and raise horses; not so many saddle horses but work horses. And, my pa will trade some mules once in a while if they come along." Jonathon caught out of the corner of his eye a wagon loaded with hay and what appeared to be bags of grain. "Look over yonder," he pointed, "let's get over there and get some feed before it's all gone." He got up and started walking hurriedly towards the wagon. Virgil was already on his feet making big strides. They both returned with their arms full of hay and their hats full of grain. Jonathon led Luther a bit away from Virgil's horse and dropped the hay and emptied his hat on the ground. Luther started to move over towards Virgil's horse to fight him for his feed, but Jonathon smacked him with his hat and gruffly spoke, "Here get back over there and behave yourself. You got feed of your own. Don't be worrying about anybody else's." He turned and followed Virgil back to the wagon for more feed. They returned with arms and hats full again. They dropped the hay along with the other. "Better hold off on giving them oats. They ain't had none in a long time and they might founder." They dumped the grain under their saddles and covered it up. The wagons with food had just started to pull up, and one was close to Jonathon and Virgil. They came back with a piece of salt pork clutching some hardtack biscuits in each hand. They each took out their knives and started eating without talking. Jonathon was the first to speak, "Damned if this ain't the first time in a long time that these biscuits don't have weevils in them." Broke off another piece of hard tack and asked with a mouth full, "where you from, Virgil?" "East Tennessee, little town of Greenville. My pa has a farm up in the holler. We didn't go to town much,' bout couple times a year was all. We had neighbors and a little school at somebody's house and one of the mother's would teach us. So, we didn't need much. We didn't have a preacher, but somebody would read from The Book on Sunday, then we'd have a picnic or something. Nice place to live and raise a family. I got a neighbor girl I benna sparkin '. Just hope she's still there. You can bet on one thing when I get back there I'm stayin'. Ain't leavin 'them hills for nobody. How' bout you?" "Looka yonder. The Yanks are settin 'up sentries. Guess they don't want us to run off before they finish with us." He watched as a sergeant marched a squad of soldiers in blue uniforms along the line leaving one off every fifty yards or so. A soldier was placed near Jonathon and Virgil
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; they were next to the edge of the clearing. "Virgil, let me ask you something." Jonathon leaned back against this saddle. "Why did you join up. I mean you could have stayed back in those Tennessee hills and just kept on living". "We knew about the war from gossip, then one day a rider came through telling us that they were forming a company in town. Me and Nathan, my older brother, saw this as an adventure. We could leave the mountains and fight just like some of the stories in the Bible. Nathan was just rearing to go, and I would follow him to the end of the world. He fell at Shiloh on the first day just about the time we lost General Johnson. I buried him that night as best I could on the side of a hill overlooking the little town. We'd only be in 'bout three months." His voice began to break; wiping his nose on his sleeve he went on, "Nathan was always the one for takin' chances. Even as kids he was always getting us in trouble. I didn't mind taking the whippings; he was my big brother. I got home for just a little while a year and half ago, and told the folks about Nathan. I would rather be gut shot than see that look on my mama's face again. I thought about just stayin ', but we had the Home Guard: a bunch of cowards to scared and lazy to help out. If you didn't go back they said you were a deserter and could be shot. One of them was my cousin. He said he couldn't go because his back hurt him. That's the same thing he said when there was work to be done." After that I just kept goin'. One day they asked if any of us could ride and wanted to be in the cavalry, and I said yes. And here I am three years later. "He stopped speaking and sat silently for a moment." I've seen enough for a hundred lifetimes. I have to tell you something: I was going to run off from this one. I was going home. "" I had a brother, name was Robert, only I was the big brother. "Jonathon began." I lost him at Sharpsburg. He rode runner for Colonel Ashby in Jackson's Army. We both rode for Colonel Ashby, one of the finest officers I will ever know. He fell at Port Republic not far from our place. "We knew about the war starting, but didn't give it much thought until one day a horse buyer came by looking for horses. They were forming a cavalry under General Jackson down near Lexington. He had a string of about twenty - five horses already, and Pa sold him five more. He needed help to get the string to Lexington so Robert and me hired on to help him. We made a couple of more stops along the way and had over fifty head when we got to Lexington." Before he would accept the horses, General Jackson wanted to see each one of them ridden. So. Robert and me spent the next three days riding horses. Some of them were pretty well broke, some were just green, and some were kind of salty. General Jackson refused to take about ten of them so he and the buyer sat down one whole afternoon bargaining. General Jackson was as tough as a dried out boot. Just about evening they struck a deal, but it included Robert and me staying on breaking horses for the army. I said, 'Whoa back. We didn't sign on to join the army'. The buyer stepped in and told us not to worry all we needed to do was stay around a top a few out then go home. He said if we didn't he wouldn't be able to give us our money. We knew we were being tricked, but we went along anyway. The next day we started riding horses. Now Robert and me were both good horse hands we had been doing it all our lives, but they started running in some big stout horses off the mountains that were as tough as I ever saw. I got bucked off more that first week than I had been bucked off my whole life. We had been there a couple of days when we met Colonel Ashby. He talked to us about how it was necessary for the South to fight off the Yankee invaders. How if they took over they would t "The next day the horse buyer stopped by and gave us half the money he owed us and promised to get the other half to us soon. We never saw our money or the buyer again. He did tell us that he would stop by and tell Pa that we had joined the army; at least he did that. They gave us brand new uniforms, boots and all, and we started cavalry training and breaking horses at the same time. Some times that got pretty exciting." You asked why we joined. I guess the answer is: we just sort of thought it was the right thing to do. After all we were Virginia boys and she was at war, so it was our job to join in and help
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. "Sure we had slaves. Had two of them. But they weren't like real slaves; they were mostly like black family members. Walter and Minnie had been around ever since I can remember. My pa said he bought them from a trader when he was young and just startin 'out. They were man and wife but never had any children of their own. We, Robert, me, and my two sisters, were their kids. Minnie was just as much mother to me as my own mother. And, we knew Walter could take a switch to us just like Pa, and he did too. They had a little house out back that Minnie fixed up real nice, and they ate with the family at the same table. One time Minnie was sick and Ma sat up several nights tending her. From time to time we would have other slaves. Pa would buy and sell a few. I never thought if it was right or wrong. It was just the way it was." Are we fightin' to keep our slaves. As far as I am concerned our slaves are free and have been for a long time. I realize that our slaves aren't like the rest of them, but would I fight so some could keep their slaves? No, I wouldn't. I don't think it's worth the price. And I'm not so sure that some folks should own other folks. It just don't seem right. I guess the war has made me look at life a little different. "" I never saw a slave before the war. "Virgil said." We had a black man come through one time looking for work. That's the only one I ever saw. We didn't have any work for him, but if we had I'm sure that Pa would have hired him and treated him just like a white man. Ma fixed him a little sack of food. So to ask if I would go to war to keep the blacks in slavery, the answer is no, just like you. Would I give up my brother just so some rich white man can keep his money? No to that too. I might fight to protect my family, but that's about all I would fight foThe both just sat quietly each contemplating his own life. Jonathon turned to the guard that was just a few yards away. "Hey, Yank, let me ask you a question." They both turned to see if the guard would respond. He turned and hesitated then walked to where Jonathon and Virgil were sitting under the tree. "What did you say?" He held his rifle across his chest and leaned forward. "Say it again I can't hear too well. Too much cannon fire." "First thing I ain't Yank not anymore at least. My names Harold: Harold Davidson. I don't want to be a Yankee or a Union or anything anymore. I just want to go somewhere and sit, so maybe I can figure this out." He put the butt of his rifle on the ground. "Well, I guess we're all in the same pen. This is Virgil Cain and I'm Jonathon Jordan. My question is: where you from?" he paused then added, "Harold." "From Ohio. Plumb out on the west edge a little town of Dayton. Not many people, and I guess I'm related to most of them in some way or another. Where you boys from, if you don't mind my asking?" "I'm from Virginia, a little north and west of here, and Virgil is from Tennessee. We're both wanting to go home." Jonathon replied. "Why are you here if you don't mind me asking?" Virgil looked up and asked. "I mean Ohio's a long ways off, if my mama's book is right. Did the war get that far that you had to come here to protect your folks?" "Well I'll tell you." He began to relax, and talk like someone who wanted to tell his story. "In '61 word came out that President Lincoln was calling for men to join up and fight the Rebs. They made a big to - do about it in town. My pa has a farm just north of town. They put up a table in front of the store and put big ribbons on it and started taking names. Man said it would only be for ninety days. Me and my two brothers talked it over and since it would only be for three months we would go. So, just after we helped Pa get his crop in the ground, that was' 62, we got our uniforms. They put us in railroad cars and started us east. It was spring but it was still cold riding in them railroad cars. At the first stop we found us a bucket and picked up some coal and made a fire in the car, but it was so smoky you couldn't hardly breathe. So it was live with the smoke or get cold. We kind of did one then did the other for a while. We had three days rations and some guys ate theirs up just as soon as they
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got them, so you always had someone asking for food. We got three days rations every four or five days. We spent fourteen days on that train; had to get off and march one time for two days. It was cold but at least we had some fresh air. "" That Yankee cold would have 'bout killed some of southern boys. We're not used to that kind of cold. It gets cold down in the mountains where we live, but not that northern cold. I been told about it. "Virgil said." When we got to Washington they assigned to a big tall tent with ten other guys. They made us march and drill every day. Made us get up' bout day light and march till dinner time then we got a break for a while then drilled the rest of the day. I think I know one thing we could out march you rebs, don't know if we could've out fought you, but I know damned well we could out march you. "Our three months ran out, and we were ready to go home when they came around wantin 'to stay another ninety days. Me and my brothers talked it over and decided to stay on a while. The food wasn't that bad, and we were getting' paid regular. We were getting fourteen dollars a month. We saved most of our money except for a couple of times we went to see a sportin 'woman and get something special to eat. We didn't drink no liquor. The Bible says,' Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit. 'We stayed in Washington all that summer just drillin' and training, you know how to use a bayonet and all. A couple of times a week they would march us out by a river, and we would practice shootin '. Then just' bout harvest time back home they put us all together along with a bunch of others, and we started marching north. We marched for four straight days across some pretty country, 'though it was a bit hilly for my taste." "Flat where you come from?" Virgil was leaning back almost laying down. "I come from the mountains where there ain't no flat at' all. We got cows with two legs shorter than the others from grazin 'on the side of the mountain." He looked over at Harold and smiled. "As I was sayin'. We marched quite a way to the north makin 'camp ever night. Then on the fourth night they came around and handed out ammunition and told us not to make camp but sleep on the ground with our rifles beside us. Me and my brothers we all agreed that we would stick together." He sat down on his haunches and drew back into himself talking but seemingly not talking to anyone, only himself. His eyes were looking a thousand miles away. "Yeh, that's what we did we agreed we'd stick together and help each other out. After all we was brothers." He paused and no one said anything there was just a murmur coming from the rest of the men as they lay around. Some had made fires out of the sticks lying around. The sound of the peepers made a background. "Well, we all agreed to stay together, the three of us. It was just about daybreak when we heard rifle shots and cannons go off. We, all three of us, started to get scared. This was real; it wasn't just practice. We heard that the Eighth Ohio, was being held in reserve. So we just laid there all morning listen' n to the shootin 'goin' on over the hill. That's what we did; we just laid there. Then about dinner time they came and got us and marched us over to the bottom of a hill. We couldn't see over the top, but we could hear a lot of shootin '. I looked around and Bill and Frank were right there beside me just like we planned." The captain held up his sword and told us to move forward up the hill. We still couldn't see. As we got to the top we could see that the rebs were down in a ditch of some kind shootin' over the edge. We couldn't shoot at them very well but they were a killin 'us. I started to back down the hill and looked over and saw Frank get hit with a cannon shot. He just turned into a red cloud. Just red stuff floating in the air. I ran over and called "Frank, Frank' but he didn't call back. I looked all around for him and couldn't find him. He was just gone. My mama's baby boy was just gone." He stopped and looked at Jonathon with a puzzled look. The timbre of his voice changed to almost a pleading howl, "He was just gone. I ran over and started picking up little pieces and putting them in my cap so I could take them home to mama." He was no longer talking to Jonathon and Virgil but looking far off into space and talking. "Frank was her baby. I started hollering for Bill
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to come help me, so we could get all the pieces. But he didn't hear me; there was too much noise. So I ran over to where I last saw Bill and found him lying on the ground. I shook him to wake him up so he could help me with Frank, but he wouldn't wake up. I shook him again and then reached up to shake his head awake, and he didn't have no head. I said 'Bill, we got to find your head, so's you can get up and help me with Frank'. I started looking around for Bill's head, but I couldn't find it. He was going to need his head if he was going to help me with Frank. I was crawling around on my hands and knees when someone ran by me and grabbed my jacket and pulled down the hill. "He paused and looked down at the ground. Virgil and Jonathon sat quietly listening." I just sat there on the ground not knowing what to do. Then it got night and the shooting stopped. I walked back up the hill and found Bill and drug him over to Frank and started picking up little pieces. All I got was a cap full. I laid down my cap there beside Bill and told him to stay there I was going over to find his head. But I looked and I looked and couldn't find it. A man can't do much without a head. I said to myself, 'Mama's not going to like this'; she'll probably have Pa take a switch to me for getting her boys killed. You see I was the oldest, and it was me that was supposed to look out for the others. But I better go home and get it over with. So I put Frank inside Bill's coat so I wouldn't drop him, and picked up Bill and started walking. I walked a long ways. I walked through a soldier camp and went on. Nobody said anything. I even walked through a reb camp. I walked until I came to big river. It was too wide. I sat Bill down and leaned him up against a tree and checked to make sure Frank was okay. It was too wide. "He looked first at Jonathon then at Virgil and tears started down his cheeks," It was too wide. I couldn't get across. It was too wide. I wanted to take them home, but it was too wide. I couldn't swim very much; Bill was always the swimmer, but he couldn't carry both me and Frank. "He looked pleadingly at Jonathon then at Virgil," It was too wide. I couldn't take them home. So I slipped Bill into the river and told him to go on home and make sure Frank got there too. Tell Mama I'm sorry. Tell her I didn't mean to get you killed. I couldn't go home without my brothers so I went back to the company. I just hope the Lord understands. "He looked first at Jonathon then at Virgil," I never told anybody about me getting Bill and Frank killed before. I was too a shamed. A man should be able to keep his brothers from getting killed. Now the war's done and I got to go home. That's right I got to go home. "He got up without saying anymore and walked to his guard post. Virgil and Jonathon sat backed against the tree. Virgil scratched the ground with a twig, and both were quiet. Then, bang, they jolted at the sound of a gunshot; it came from where Harold was standing guard. They both quickly looked and saw Harold on the ground; his legs were twitching. Jumping up they ran to him and saw that the top of his head was nothing more than a bloody mass. His rifle lay beside him; smoke was drifting out of the barrel." Get your hands up, you God damned rebs! "A soldier in blue was holding a rifle pointing at them." Just get away from him! "He was young and the bayonet point was shaking. He sounded like the 'God Damn' was alien to his mouth." Hold on! Mister We was just trying to help. "Jonathon said as he and Virgil raised their hands over their heads." We was just talking to him over there. "He pointed with his hand still in the air." Helping my foot! You was trying to steal everything he had. I know you rebs. "He was still pointing the rifle and the bayonet was still shaking." I bet he didn't have much to steal, "Virgil said quietly." What did you say, Reb. "He poked the bayonet at Virgil." I don't want to hear any of your reb smart talk, so you just get over there where you're supposed to be. "He poked the bayonet again." Now, git! The lieutenant will take care of this. "When they got back to the tree Virgil said," Damn all I been through and to get shot by some kid in a Yankee suit who's too scared to even think. "They both just sat and watched
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as several soldiers gathered around the body and the young soldier pointing their direction talking to an officer. When he finished the officer walked toward the tree. He walked like a man with a purpose. His uniform was new and just a little big for him. His boots were new and a saber rattled by his side. His mustache was young man's: thin and short; he had the look of a nineteen old on his face. "Don't you men stand and salute a superior officer?" He said standing over Jonathon and Virgil. "Well, Sir," Virgil said not getting up. "Yesterday we would have, but today we decided we ain't soldiers no more; we're just folks. This here is Mr. Jonathon Jordan and I'm Mr. Virgil Cain." "Well, I don't know how it is in the reb army, but in the United States army you don't just quit anytime you want. You must wait until you are properly discharged." He took a pistol out of the holster on his belt. "Now, I will suffer no insubordination from rebels. So you will stand up and properly salute a superior officer," Both Jonathon and Virgil slowly stood up and gave a snappy salute. Each with their eyes on that pistol. "I think I better take you two to the captain. So you will walk in front of me with your hands in the air." He motioned with his pistol. "I think the little son - of - a - bitch would shoot us. I been in about ten battles and go get shot by snot nose kid. That would beat all." Jonathon whispered as they were walking toward the Yankee camp. The lieutenant kept motioning with his pistol and giving directions until they were in front of a tall round tent. There was a soldier standing by the opening leaning on his rifle. "Soldier you are out of order. Stand up straight and fix your tunic and salute a superior officer when he approaches." The soldier snapped to attention, reached down an straightened his tunic, then saluted. "That's better," the lieutenant returned the salute. "Now go in and tell the captain that Lieutenant Hapsgood is waiting with two prisoners." The soldier opened the flap of the tent and ducked inside. "What the hell does he expect me to do about it. Hell, I got twenty thousand prisoners, and I don't disturb his evening," bellowed from the tent. "The captain would l like to know the nature of your business. He is a very busy man," the soldier stuck his head out of the flap. There was a strained look on his face of someone who wants to laugh but knew better. "Yes, lieutenant, just what is it that requires my attention". Around the tent were boxes some three feet high and a bunk. In the middle of the tent sat a short pile of boxes made into a desk. In the desk were some papers and a jar of clear liquid. A lantern affixed to the center pole cast down a yellow light on the captain, a man of perhaps thirty years, he had the look of a much older man. His tunic lay across a box along the edge, and they could see his boots were muddy and worn. "These two prisoners," the lieutenant was standing at attention having put his pistol away making sure the cover was buckled, "can give us some information about the man who was killed". He stopped and waited for an answer, when the captain didn't speak, he went on, "They can tell us just how the man died and give us some information for our investigation." He stopped again. "How he died. We know how he died. He committed suicide, that's how he died. He shot himself. There is no investigation. There is nothing to investigate." The captain sounded annoyed but restrained. "But, sir, we must determine the cause of death before we make any assumptions as to whether it is suicide or murder." "Lieutenant. The regimental surgeon investigated the body and found that was an entry hole in the roof of his mount and an exit hole that took off the back of his head. Now, it appears we have two options here: A. He had his head held back with his mouth open gargling salt water when someone shot him in the midst of sixty thousand men and no one saw the shooter. Or B, he shot himself. Now you decide which I should put on my report along with your name as chief investigator." He looked straight at the lieutenant. "I understand, sir. But what am I to do with these prisoners. They both were disrespectful to me as superior officer by nature of their being prisoners." His voice was tempered with embarrassment. "That's what happens when your uncle is a congressman. You boys want a drink of liquor?" he pushed the jar across the desk. "We ran across a still the other day. This ain't the best I ever had. I think it wanted to set a little longer. Like I said it's green but drinkable." Both Jonathon and Virgil
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winched as they swallowed. "I expect you boys better get back to the area. Sentry!" When the soldier stepped in, "escort these men back to their area". It was way past moon rise when they settled down beside their tree. They each found a place on the ground where they could sleep pulling their saddle blankets over them to ward off the cool night air. The next day it rained and they had to pull their saddle blankets over their heads to keep the rain off their heads. On the Tuesday it was still raining, and the orders came down that the men were to line up by units to stack their weapons and battle flags. All around there were color bearers revolting by burning the pennants or tearing them apart and giving each man a piece. "By God the damned Yankees never got this a fightin ', and I'll be damned if they're going to get it now." Then it was over. The rifles stacked, the paroles issued, the oaths taken. Men dispersed some walking some riding but all going home. Their uniforms were ragged, but they held their heads high. They were bested but not beat, whipped but not conquered.
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I saw myself inside my house standing in front of my mother, who was folding and keeping washed clothes in the closet, and asking her as to what my father was talking about on his mobile, in the lawn downstairs. It had been half an hour and he looked concerned and intense as he walked on the grass, in the dim light of a distant tubelight at a corner of the lawn. "Are we having some problems, some health or money problems?" I asked, without thinking. My mother stopped in the process of folding clothes and looked at me, and said, "It is your aunt. She's having some troubles." I don't clearly remember if this aunt was my father's sister or friend, but anyways, I again saw my father through the window of our house, as he talked and tried to counsel her and convince her for something, maybe. I was then reminded of my project meeting I had that morning with my mentor. I had to find a partner for that project. I decided to take her as my project partner. Lets name her P. Now I knew that all I had to do was to meet her the next day and ask her to be my project partner. Then suddenly I remembered that the project required coding and she was not a computer science student. I thought, "oh, never mind. I'll do all the computer science part." I then saw two kids coming in from the front door of the house. It took me some time but I finally recognized them as my cousins. My father came in and said, "Hey kids, how have you been doing?" with a smile. The two kids didn't look cheerful. The boy must be about 10 years old and girl some 7 or 8 years old. "Your mother has got some work, so you both would be staying here with us for a some days. I'll have your luggage kept inside." he said. Later I learnt that my aunt left town to make some arrangements and sold her house before that and all her stuff was kept in our garage. My sister a couple of years elder than the boy. She took them to their room and tried to make them comfortable by talking to them and arranging their stuff in her room. I was impressed by her for I knew I couldn't do suPosted by I saw myself in my hostel room in NBH third floor. I kept the door open and frequently stared at the corridor on the other side of the doorway, with a strange fear in my mind. Then suddenly I decided that my room was not a safe place anymore, and simultaneously saw myself in a huge lobby of a big house, which was as if had been teleported to the big house or my room had suddenly grown large, or maybe it was just my imagination. The idea of examination next day increased my fear, and I had a lot left to prepare. It all started the evening last week, at the beach party where I and my friends started the game of a new kind of hide and seek. The beach looked lovely with the lighting and the palm trees and large no. of people singing and dancing, but we had lost the mood for the party. So, we all went and sat a little away from the crowd and while chatting decided to play hide and seek with a small alteration in the rule that the ones found by the seeker would also become the seeker, something like becoming a vampire after being bitten by a vampire. We played that game all night till the last campfire burned out. In a state of agitation, I decided to study with my friend Atul in his room. Atul was one of the players of the beach party hide and seek last week. I started studying again, doing my preparation the usual way. Next thing I see myself sitting in the corridor, beside the open door of my room, with friends from the beach party beside me. They said it was fine, and that it was just a game and that I should forget it. One of them, Gaurav I think, said that he was the seeker and he touched my arm to show that what I was thinking was my imagination and was not true. The fact is, I was having visions, visions of places I was not at that time. While studying, once in a while, the pages of the book change into someone's bedroom or lighted road in the campus and it was not because of I drowsing while studying. I drowse quite often while studying and I know the difference. It wasn't day dreaming either. It felt like I was in those places, the visions looked so real. And with all these visions I saw a man, in his late 40s or early 50s, looking at the beach from the window of his suite. I thought that as a seeker I had some kind of powers to see what the other seekers of the game are viewing at any time of the game, one at a time, just like one can change view while playing video games. Our last game was left incomplete because we had run out of lighting on the beach and it was too late to continue. Since I was one of the
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seekers in the last game, I thought that the powers of a seeker again took over me at the time same as the time last week when we played the game. I then realized that similar thing happened last week as well, but since any part of the beach looked mostly the same as the others I didn't notice the visions at that time. I saw myself in my present college life, a pleasant yet slowly turning into a highly irresponsible guy. I saw myself doing nightouts for no good reason and sleeping all through the day, sometimes skipping classes and scoring average in exams... The dream looked like reality, and felt like I wasn't sleeping, that I was still awake and living my life, until he came... I saw myself in some circular shaped, highly spacious room which looked like an office. I saw a man standing behind his desk, his back towards me, looking outside the window behind his desk. He was short in height, and reminded me of babidi, a villian in DragonballZ. Let's call him Mr. A. "I have heard a lot about you and so wanted to meet you in person", he said with a bit of squeakiness in his voice, still facing the window. I felt numb and nervous, and thought, "this must be about my skipping classes because of no attendance taken, and about my late submission of assignments." "Wrong", he said, and turned away from the window, to face me. I was astouned at his remark. He did look a little like babidi. "I wanted to meet you because I want your expertise, your skills. I want you to work for me, in my research lab. You would be paid well." "I don't understand", I said. "I haven't been going in any direction as far as my MS in IIIT - H is concerned. I have been procrastinating all my work. I think there has been some mistake." "No, no mistake. I know who you are, what you do with your time. All I want you to do is, work for my lab and I'll fund you during your MS and PhD and beyond maybe. I could provide you with assistance in your MS. There are things to be done in my research lab that only you can do." He gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. Instead of living on mere stipend from college, why not get a full pay package by devoting a few hours everyday for his work. During early hours of that evening, in some classrooms (our classrooms were large seminar halls), some or the other movie was to be shown. I went into one of the classrooms, and sat on a seat in the Posted by I saw myself in a hasty process of getting ready for school. I saw myself wearing my uniform as fast as possible, and hang the tie with an untidy knot around my neck. As I started wearing my socks, I felt the need to attend nature's call. "Damn", I thought, "why can't this happen when I wake up in the morning, everything has to happen at the last moment!" While sitting in the loo, I was reminded of something that was important to me and that I had to do. In my mind I saw myself with a backpack, a modified form of my schoolbag, but stuffed with heavy stuffs. I was getting late with every passing second. I heard the chattering sounds of school kids and a few honking horns of the bus. My sister shouted that the bus won't stop for me! Of course it won't! I was again reminded of something that I had to do, which was important to me. I thought, "I chose this life for myself. I am doing this for my friend. I didn't mean to harm anyone, but no one understands the language of love and peace. I have to help my friend and save him." I rushed out of the toilet, while pulling my pants on, and tucking my shirt. I grabbed my schoolbag, looked at it for a few seconds, smiled and rushed outside. The bus had already left. I decided to catch it at its next stop. I took a short - cut, the connecting paths between the buildings. The bus followed the road and hence took a longer route to its next stop. I reached the place and was standing there when I saw the bus appear from behind the last building I could see on that road. I smiled at the driver as the bus stopped in front of me. I got into the bus and sat beside my sister. Looking at her I was again reminded of that day. That day, me and my sister got lost in a carnival. I don't remember my parents presence in the carnival. I and my sister stood at some foodstall, when I saw a man staring at us. He had long hair, and traces of beard on his face. We left the stall and went elsewhere but he seemed to follow us. I started running with my sister. We ran between strings of foodstalls on eithPosted by I saw myself in one of the events
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that happened in my life earlier. I saw myself standing on the bridge which is famous for some reason I don't remember. I don't even remember its name. This bridge is en route from Rameshwaram to Trivandrum. It was a big and wide bridge with a road on it, and pavements where vendors sold fruit salad / slices, channa, bhel etc. My father parked our car along the pavement and my mother got out and asked me to follow her. We went and stood at the edge of the bridge. It was breezy early evening with warm sun - rays and moving and stationary vehicles and people on the pavement keeping the bridge road a busy, occupied place. She said, "Isn't this a wonderful view!" I stood there looking at the river water and the tiny disturbances on the surface of water, those tiny waves when suddenly I felt nauseatic and dizzy. I stood at the corner of the bridge and felt like I would loose consciousness any moment. I then realized that I didn't feel comforable looking down from a considerable amount of height. I lost consciousness. Next thing I remember was being at our old neighbor's house for lunch. They were our older neighbors from another city were we lived earlier. I remember myself riding a bike, a bicycle with strong tyres, in front of their house. One of the children in their neighborhood were riding their small bicycles and one of them hit her bicycle to the tyre of my bicycle and the tyres of her bicycle broke into pieces. She started accusing me of being the reason and I argued with her that she hit my bicycle's tyres and I wasn't the one coming in her way. Other children also took her side and said that it was my fault. They started shouting at me. Next thing I saw myself allowing her ride my bicycle for sometime. Since she was quite small, I held the bicycle for her and she pushed the pedals with the tip of her feet. She had won the argument and I had to allow her to ride my bicycle for sometime. There was a crazy TV set in the garage of my former neighbors at whose home we had gone for havinPosted by After a series of exciting experiences, which I forgot when I woke up, I slept again in the hope of reviving or resuming those series of experiences. The scene took a different turn and I saw yet another weird and "different" kind of dream, something that has never happened to me in real life. I saw myself, with my college mates going to some other place, as a team to attend a workshop and conduct some experiments as a part of that workshop. We took a bus to that place. The place looked like very old, with faded colored walls with dark patches, and dingy ambience inside the buildings. We wore special suits kind of thing, like what bomb disposal squad wears or those dealing with viruses or biological weapons! I saw myself and others sitting in the same row, with old looking desks and apparatus, with washing sinks in front of us. It reminded me of the chemistry lab of my school which looked quite like that lab we were sitting in. After the trip, I felt like I desperately wanted this kind of work or project. But I didn't have good CGPA or experience to support my predicament. Nevertheless I approached the professor, and as expected he dismissed me because he expected some "better" students to take up such projects. I couldn't believe it because the professor believed in giving anyone a chance. In my desperation, I fell for my friends' suggestion of fabricating a false identity that showed that I belonged to a family which was a part of some specific groups of families. The trick worked as the next day the professor called me himself and offered me the project. My friends' had changed my identity quite meticulously in each of my records with the college authorities. A couple of days later, during late hours of evening, as I walked by the dean's office, I heard this, "I found this. He's son of an army officer, he's an army kid." and before I could think of my next move (I easily guessed they were talking about me.) the professor saw me, and his face showed anger and disappointment. I looked at the dean, and (OMG, what hapPosted by I saw myself totally petrified at the idea of taking part in a speech olympiad kind of thing. I saw huge stadium with people from all over the world as audience as well as participants. It was an international event. I was one of the participants purely on the basis of my academic performance, is what I recall. As I walked across my room, slowly keeping each foot after the other one, with soft sun - rays entering my room (illuminating the dust particles and keeping my room warm), I tried to build the speech in my mind on a random topic. The main point here was to keep on speaking on the topic without any long or lingering pause or pauses. I did that for a few topics in my mind till I couldn't control my anxiety any longer. For all I could recall, I had never spoken in front of any audience anything for a duration
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of five minutes. And now I was supposed to keep them engaged and interesed in my speech. I asked my mother about the topic of my speech and she said she had given the slip of paper with the topic on it, to me a couple of hours ago. I started looking for the slip of paper and when Ifound it, read the topic on the paper. It gave me cold feet. My mother then suddenly came to my room and asked me for some medicines. She said they were for my father. I took out the medicine kit from the closet, looked for those medicines and gave them to her. Well, most of the medicines in that kit were for me! It was but evident that I couldn't take part in the speech olympiad because my parents had to leave as my father 'shealth had gone bad and he also had to get back to work in a couple of days. My mother urged me to take part and return home a couple of days later, but I refused. I felt slightly relieved for not speaking on the podium in front of such eminent people making the audience, but I also knew that it was a big opportunity lost. I met her yet again, this time when I got back home after not attending speech olympiad. Meeting her made me forget all about the speech olympiad. She told me that she'd moved to this city but Posted by I saw myself in a huge bathroom, with tiling on floor and walls completely covered with mirrors. It had a huge bathing tub, and a shower area with curtains... I suppose I was a guest in someone else's house, perhaps some aunt of mine. Next thing I saw was being late to a grand party, which was supposed to be in some awesome place. My father kept on asking me to hurry and get dressed. I quickly got dressed in my suit (probably tuxedo) and my parents, my sister and I left for the party. I remember getting down from the army vehicle (gypsy) and walking into the grand place with my parents and sister. My parents walked straight into the grand hall where other officers and their wives were sitting. My sister and I walked up the steep curved lane to the first floor. For a person looking at that building from outside, from one side it would look like a cylindrical shaped tall structure, because of the curvy path to the upper floors. As we reached the first floor, we saw a few kids with fancy conical caps, masks etc. peeping from a hole in the wall beside the curvy pathway, while one other kid who stood at the entrance of the first floor hall, on hearing someone call his name, ran inside the hall. The curtains had been drawn, and so I looked inside the hall and saw few small kids running all over the floor, chasing someone or being chased by someone and perhaps falling in the process. I went inside and asked one of the persons responsible for taking care of the kids and providing them with soft drinks and eatables, when they asked for some, about the shooting event. He said that the shooting competition was on seventh floor. Surprise was my first reaction, urgency became my second reaction. My sister and I left the first floor and walked up to the second floor. Second and third floor had teenagers and in one glance at the second floor hall I saw a few of them chit - chatting, talking about all kinds of stuff, and saw a few groups p about stuffs, playing games in groups, and we passed those floors quickly. Third floor was more Posted by I saw myself running frantically on the corridor of a school / college building. I was on the second floor. I looked at the class numbers on the tiny wooden boards as I passed by each class. I was looking for the exam room in which I was supposed to sit for my exam. After two rounds of the second floor, I went to the third floor to find the exam room. I saw science labs, sports rooms, kindergarden etc. After half an hour of running around, I found Dhingra having water from the water cooler. He saw me and asked me, "Did you complete your exam?" "I can't find my exam room, did you finish you exam?" "Yes, a few minutes ago. Others are still writing, but you know me, I leave the exam hall before everyone else." "Yeah." I couldn't find my exam hall and only half an hour was left when I looked at my watch. I walked into one of the rooms where some students were giving exams. I talked to the teacher / invigilator sitting there about my situation. Surprisingly she got me my question paper and made me sit in one of the seats. I started writing as fast as I could. After the examination time was over, she was kind enough to allow me to write till I completed my exam. She sat beside me which made me a bit uncomfortable because she occasionally read my answers which were not neat (both in presentation and language). She was pretty, though. I saw myself with my friend who was asking me to hurry lest we might be late for some place we
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had to go. Actually I was involved in doing something else and he came and reminded me of the fact that we had to be somewhere at that time, which was more important. So, I stopped whatever I was doing and took some essentials like my diary, my ID card etc. with me so that I may be able to enter the venue. Before we could reach the place, I was kidnapped! Actually it happened so that I and my friend was walking to that place, on an early sunny evening, on a road with trees on both sides. He walked a little ahead of me and I remember him wearing a light blue shade suit as I looked at him from behind, walking away. Next thing I remember I was sitting with a couple of men, both in their middle ages who were asking me about my identity and some information about the meeting or the place I had to go to. At first I tried to lie, suspecting some conspiracy or danger to me, my family or something or someone else. They looked so desperate. They threatened to call my parents and ask them about it. Iimagined my parents standing there and my father telling me to tell them everything about myself and that it'd be no harm to do that. Due to fear, I told them everything, about me and about the meeting that I would have attended, had they not have interrupted. I was left alone for sometime, tied to a chair with a rope, in that dark dingy room, with some last sun - rays coming through a broken glass ofthe window. They returned and untied me, and told me about their motive of keeping me that way. They said that they had made something, and they showed me the draft and the prototype. They said that their model was much better than that which would be shown in the conference that I'd have attended. I could then imagine people sitting in the conference, with a couple of men showing the prototype for the purpose that they were talking about. They explained that the prototype to be shown in the conference involved fusion of a few things at variousPosted by First thing I remember was a huge 'Khaai' or canyon. It was deep and beautiful. It was vast and covered with vegetation. I saw it while safely standing on top. Next thing I remember is our professor coming up with a crazy but interesting idea for a project. It involved the whole batch. It was a big project and had a lot of scope but he asked us to start our work one week before the end semester exams. And no one was in a mood to work for the project as we had other deadlines to meet. I took a part of the project that I would be doing, after few of my batchmates planned and discussed the division of the work of project amongst us. My mind raced through the schedule for coming week and allotted time for the project in that schedule. Last week of semester proved to be disastrous. After missing two English classes because of staying at home during that week sometime earlier in the semester, this week I missed one class and was late for one, after I overslept due to fatigue. I reached the class half an hour late and sat beside Bhanukiran. He asked me where had I been in all previous English classes. Of course he knew the reasons. One should never lie in life. I had not good reason to lie but I did the same. I stood at the first floor corridor of school building, looking into my notebook at a half torn page in the bottom half of which I had written a few things that could help me conveniently prepare for exams. I looked at it, both in amazement that I have a shortcut now, and in disbelief that, will this really help me? I would never have thought this in my worst nightmares, but I sensed it now. I felt that the headmistress was standing behind me, looking at what I was looking at. I turned slowly, cautiously and found a couple of students walk past me. I turned to my notebook, closed it and as I turned to leave, I saw the headmistress standing in front of me. "I would like to look at the page you were looking at, in your notebook!" I sensed danger! I turned the pages of my notebook back and forth in an attempt to find a similPosted by I saw myself traveling with my parents and sister. We were all traveling by train, and it was dusk. I sat there and my mind wandered into yesterday, the instance when it all started. There was a man who looked quite like J K Simmons (the egotistical newspaper editor in the Spiderman movies). I recalled the last time I looked at him, he wore a black overcoat, and I could see his face for a brief moment when the light flickered on his face, then it went dark again. I remembered the fact that the man was not very much liked by anyone. He was a shrewd and tough guy, and rude sometimes. We had to leave the house we stayed in because yesterday, like sometimes, he didn't speak in a very good manner with my father. But yesterday was different. Unlike everytime when my father, on the
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advice of my mother, ignored his rude irritating behavior, yesterday my father told him about what the fact that the man was rude and wasn't very cooperative while working, and my father being a kind of person not tolerating such kind of behavior, vented all his anger and frustration in the form of words and louder pitch in voice. My father scolded that man yesterday. The man was either my father's colleague or his boss. A couple of hours ago, me and my sister were suddenly woken up while I was enjoying deep sleep. My mother said that we had to leave the house immediately. I saw packed trunks and furniture, paintings etc. wrapped in gunny bags and cardboard. All the luggage looked packed. Next thing I knew I was standing at the station. I felt strange that within an hour I was standing at the platform, waiting for the arrival of the train. It was still dark and we, and a couple of people who'd come to see us off at the station and help with the luggage. I looked out of the window, and saw the slow process of darkness vanishing and things coming to light and the bluish greyish ambience. Early morning freshness was not the only reason for my pleasant mood after the sudden turn of events. I knew we'd be going to a new house, meet new people, make newAbhishek This time, it were not snakes but crabs that troubled me. From what I can recall, I found myself lying on perhaps a sandy beach or some similar place where lots of crabs live. I stayed lying there and couldn't get up. I saw a couple of crabs slowly moving towards me. One of the crabs near my feet hit me with its forehand claws (or whatever they are called!). The crabs looked like the red colored crab "sebastian" of Disney's Little Mermaid cartoon. The hit woke me up and I found myself lying on my bed. My first instinct was to look at my feet that was hit. I slept again, this time to visit a big conference kind of thing in some foreign country. I remember being in one of those large halls, among big celebrities, though I don't remember seeing anyone distinctly. I remember me and Mohit staying in luxurious hotel room, with lots of celebrities in neighbouring rooms. One evening at dusk, after the conference when I came out, I looked around at the big glass buildings and the broad roadways. I felt the cool air and the bluish dimness of the dusk. After sometime, I saw Shah Rukh Khan walking across in front of me. I was totally taken aback after looking at him from such a close distance. He was perhaps looking for someone or something as he stood there in front of me, and looking here and there with his searching eyes. My first instinct was to ask him for an autograph. He looked at me for an instant and I froze at my position. When he turned his gaze away, I walked up to him and asked for an autograph. He obliged, but I didn't have any page or notebook or something on which he could give me an autograph. At that moment, Mohit walked up to me and I asked Mohit to get a sheet of paper. He got a sheet of paper and Shah Rukh Khan gave his autograph on it, one each for both of us, on the top and bottom half of the sheet. I wasn't looking when he was giving the autograph. Something strange happened and he struck off the autographs given by him with pen strokes on it (was it because of IPL, but that can't be because they'd wonPosted by The first thing I remember is being in a big closed box, traveling with Alok and Abhinav, on some big and long two wheeler vehicle. They didn't know that I was in that box, and when I couldn't stay in the box any longer, I came out and they were surprised (of course!). Unfortunately, the thing that I replaced myself with, in the box was very important for them and so they started grumbling about the fact that they'd have to go back and get that thing. The road looked dim and things around looked bluish, probably it was early morning time. Next thing I remember being with my parents and sister, in a tourist bus, going to some place. In the middle of the journey, our bus broke down on a deserted road. It was dusk. We all got down from the bus, and started looking around. My parents, sister, I and a few other tourists walked a little further away from the bus, and saw a pathway on the left side of the road, leading to some place. The pathway was at a certain depth from the road, and was lit by a bulb, which showed human habitation there, or nearby. So we got a rope from the bus, and started going down by holding the rope. During my mother's chance to go, (she was the first amongst us to go) her hand slipped and she fell directly on that path. None of us had noticed (it was getting dark in the evening) that there was a snake beside the tiny plant which marked the start of that path
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. Beside the plant was a deep trench and hence one had to land on the other side of the plant. My mother did land on the other side of the plant, but she also activated the snake. The snake started hissing and this caught our attention. I saw that and was terrified. I was afraid to go down there, even to help my mother!: (But suddenly something happened, and I directly jumped near that plant (or was it my father who pushed me?), didn't use that rope), and slipped a little towards the trench. I was flat on the floor, in between my mother and the snake. I started blowing air on its face from my mouth, to prevent it from coming on to me. That tPosted by I saw myself as a school student, with same teachers teaching me who taught me in 11th and 12th class. I saw myself sitting in the same classroom, wearing that same uniform and having that same school backpack. This week the teacher teaching computer science had given some work to me, which I had to show her on monday. Also, there was this movie being aired that weekend. Me and my friends decided to go for the movie. That evening, we reached the cinema hall but we were not allowed to go inside because we were not invited, or rather not eligible! I couldn't understand what did he mean by "not invited". We stood outside the entrance, looking for a chance to sneak inside. The cinema hall was small and had one small screen hall, like a small town cinema hall. A few of my friends also tried disguising themselves differently (rather as adults) and tried to get in, but all in vain. Eventually I, and also my friends saw that the gate - keeper wasn't there, so we all rushed in. I was hesitant, as I saw the gate - keeper coming from a distance. All my friends had entered and were signaling me to hurry up! I looked at them, then at the gate - keeper who was chewing something and moving towards the main - gate, with a long stick in his hand. All I did was pretend that he wasn't there, and coolly walked in. My heart beat stablized only when I was well inside the corridor. I saw the door of the hall open. I went inside and saw nice cushion chairs covered with white cloth, and the floor covered with carpet. I was suprised to see only few people sitting inside. We waited for about half an hour, then started to leave. I saw my computer science teacher, and looked for a place to hide. But she also saw me and called me. She told me that the movie had not yet arrived, and that she and her family had also planned to come by and watch this movie (why weren't we allowed in, then?). I was happy she didn't mention anything about the work. As I walked out of the main - gate, I turned my head around and saw the gate - keeper sleeping on his chair and Posted by The Puppet - MasterThe first thing that I remember was confessing my love to one of my friends after I met her after a few years. She and I used to study together in the same school and knew each other very well. She also liked me but yeah, didn't love me! She just smiled after she heard what I said and said that she, kind of, had that feeling that I might be in love with her. Next thing I saw myself walking with her in the corridor of some place which was either a school or some other place. Surprisingly enough she was holding my hand while walking. She entered some place which was in fact a dressing room. I said that I'd wait outside, but after sometime I went inside and saw her a bit undressed from the top, standing in one of the sections. I felt like hugging her and kissing her. Her face showed strange anxiety and fear, which I couldn't help notice. We were standing together in some well lighted, well furnished railway station, which more looked liked an airport than a typical Indian railway station. She spotted her mother, and we went to her. I greeted her mother, and tried to show extra respect by bending a little. Her mother had a baby, which was supposedly hers. Only baby's nose was showing, rest was covered. I requested if I could see his face to see if he looks more like her mother or her father. Aunty obliged, and when I saw his face, it looked like both of his parent's face, a perfect blend. We then realized that the train in which we were to go, was leaving the platform. We quickly bid goodbye to her mother and started running. I asked her to hold my hand, which she did and then we finally caught up with the last bogie. We didn't have any heavy luggage, just a backpack each. I got onto the stairs of the entrance of the bogie, then got inside, then helped her inside. I saw that it was a luggage compartment without any direct path to other bogies. The train also had stopped temporarily for a few
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seconds, and had then again started moving. I asked her to get down, got down myself, then went into the compartPosted by The first thing I remember was that I was in a big room on a ship or in some hotel room and there was this pretty young lady with me. It had been a rainy day and black clouds covered the sky. We had met somewhere in the city and somehow got this liking for each other. I saw her standing on a bridge and me standing in front of her and we were talking and laughing... Next thing I remember is that we were having sex... I could feel the warmth and the touch, the smell, it was gentle and smooth... I was totally into it... looks like I am telling myself subconsciously that I want something (even though I don't really think about it while I'm awake) and also I am training myself for the same subconsciously using the information gained from external world and the coded information in my genes... oh it's too complicated, let's stop at that! I hardly ever get angry enough to shout, but something happened that changed it all. I received the news of death of one of my best friends of high school and I think it was Himanshu. I had not met him since last 4 years and it was a straight shock. So, that evening itself, when someone wascracking a joke on me (like sometimes people do and I play along) while we were standing on atraining ground (beside the rope climbing area) which looked like a military exercise ground, butthis time something inside me, which seemed wanting to come out, came out and with rage I abused him and abused all the others. They were shocked and realized something was wrong. I hadn't noticed that earlier but that pretty young lady was also standing there. I said, "Time changes a person. I was deeply upset after receiving the news of my friend's death and I guess that came out as rage from within me and you all had to see it. I'm sorry." I rather felt light hearted and better and from then spoke such words occasionally whenever I felt like. This time my house (group) was supposed to play host. We had to prepare the meal, decorate the place and invite other houses (groups). I had expected this as the last thing oPosted by ExaminationI saw myself with my parents and sister in a new city where we were tourists. We were roaming about, trying to kill time and at the same time, trying to reach the railway station lest we should not miss the train. We reached the station and I saw myself holding on to something with my arms and hanging in the air while my mother and sister were pulling my legs, one each, and I was shouting and asking them not to do so while they were laughing. I had a few bags hanging on my shoulders and it seemed that I was hanging there in air to get those baggages across to a large store room. I saw a coolie (porter) come to me, and I left one hand free, to give him the air - bag that was hanging on my shoulder. He took the bag, dumped it in the store room and took the other one from me which was hanging on my other shoulder. When I came back down, I asked my mother and sister not to pull my legs again when I'm hanging in the air! My parents, sister and I caught a bus and we came to the place where I was supposed to give my exams. The place looked familiar. It looked quite like some part of NDA Khadakwasla, Pune or IMA Dehradun. Many of my batchmates were there and we were supposed to give two exams, C / C + + and Algorithms. I was highly unprepared for both, but was more afraid of Algorithms. My parents left me at the entrance, all three of them wished me luck and I walked inside, through the open gate into the campus. I saw the soft sun - rays of early evening fall on the campus. I walked through the long corridors until I reached a long hall. I walked inside, only to find my batchmates and a few other students who had come to give that exam. I knew that I had very little time and that after giving both the exams, I have to rush back to the railway station. Interestingly enough I had my laptop with me and the hall where I was sitting had Wifi facility. I thought I still had some time before my exam starts, so I opened my orkut account and was surprised to find a scrap from someone who'd hardly come online. She had replied tPosted by I was sitting in my room, when I heard a knock followed by lots of footsteps. I was startled, and perturbed. I opened the door, only to find a person with a gas - mask pointing a maverick at me. He took a step back and said, "Start moving", pointing the gun in the intended direction. I saw many of my friends, moving out in a queue, climbing down the stairs. I could not understand. I was afraid now and my mind was filled with
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the incidents of last night, watching "Wedding Crashers", chatting in the corridor. The sun was just rising in the east and in the midst of the soft sun rays, I saw the cold, unfriendly masked men with snipers and mavericks. Next thing I remember was that we all were divided in groups for doing a series of assignments. We all sat in some classroom, with benches, desks, a green - board, a cup - board. As I sat on my seat, and looked around, I found many of my batch - mates and college - mates but I also saw some unfamiliar faces. I saw a few of the same gun - men whom I had encountered in the morning. The assignment looked tough and I wished that I was in some other particular group because I was unfamiliar with my group - mates and they didn't show the willingness to work and finish the work. I was eager to be the person to finish his work so that he could be allowed to go home. At night, we were directed towards a line of barracks having long rows of bunker beds, like a long dormitory. The atmosphere looked war - like and we lived as if living in concentration camps. The work done by us was all academic kind of stuff. We were given an assignment each morning and we had to submit it before sunset. The assignment had a few questions and each group was given an assignment sheet with questions printed on it. I felt that courses at IIIT were much better than these assignments. Surprisingly, after a few weeks, our results were declared. That day also, gun - men were standing near the entrance of the classroom. I was nervous, like I am whenever results are declared. I knew these results didn't matter anymore to me, as I Posted by Haunted TourismI found myself standing in a corridor brightly lit by bulbs on the decorated walls and had a layer of carpet below my feet. I saw in front of me, small cabinets for dining, and saw a child eating his meal at a round table, laughing perhaps with others of his age whom I couldn't see. A few couples and a group of ladies passed by me as I stood at the corridor, looking at things around. I heard my father calling me and I walked away in that direction. After dinner, my mother insisted that I wear a sweater / cardigan as it'd get colder late in the night. It was when I looked out of the window that I realized that we were in a ship. I saw dark blue world outside, foggy weather, moonlight giving some visibility, and when I looked down at the sea, it looked calm with gentle waves. I saw a few tree stems in the middle of sea, a little distance away from the ship. It looked both spooky and adventurous and reminded me of Pirates of Carribean series. Next day we reached the shore, but our destination was still a little distance away. We hired a gypsy car and were accompanied by a few foreigners (UK natives). That evening, after reaching our rest house, my parents fell asleep as they were very tired. My sister watched TV as I came out of the room to stroll outside for a while. While coming to that resthouse, in the way I'd seen a small lake. I walked till that lake. It was still foggy outside with the bluish greyish mix backdrop, giving it a perfect spooky look. I saw the lake in front of me, it's water still as ever, and enclosed on all sides by land with fog floating on it's water surface. I started walking along the lake, on the banks of lake. Something happened that was far more spooky and made me chill down my spine, much more than the whole winter season had done so far. For the distance along the bank that I walked, water in that corresponding part of the lake started freezing and froze along as I walked. I felt like stopping but my feet continued to walk as my mind stopped working at that time, so I walked aPosted by The first thing I remember is that I am sitting in some classroom and struggling to learn something. Bhanukiran walks upto me and says, "Dude, it's quite late, it's night time. And you're sitting in the dark staring at something I can't clearly make out what! Is something troubling you? I stared at that thing again and then replied," Nothing ". The truth was that I was nervous. And something was troubling me. I was in a situation that I wanted to do something but didn't have the courage to withstand the wrong consequences. Our college was one of the colleges selected for some martial arts fighting competition and it was to be a 'team fight'. As far as I can recall six members were there. One of them was Gaurav, not sure if Atul was also a part of the team. We had a teacher who was an expert and we had evening sessions for a couple of months. Evening sessions were cool. I learned some nice stunts / tactics about self defence but the idea of taking a punch or kick in the face is what was making me nervous. Luckily during evening sessions, nothing of that sort
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happened! After the two months of training, we were trained in weapon fight. We started with a Bo. It reminded me of Donaltello of TMNT cartoon series. I eagerly learned each and every move with that Bo, but getting a stick in my face added to the list of my fears!: (Our first match was against some local college which we won convincingly. We traveled in a bus to that college and returned late at night. The task was simple, make all the opponents fall on the ground. I tried to use the Bo as Master Splinter of TMNT and it worked in a few cases because the other team was also smart. I was the first one to fall to the ground from my team but I made 2 people fall before falling. I was happy and thrilled never the less because it was my first experience in a combat and my face was not hurt! There was a machine which had crawled the whole web, indexed every information available on the web and had made a graph of the hyperlinked structure of web. Our college had built that mPosted by I slept early yesterday, at 11 pm. Does this affect the kind of dreams I get? I guess not! The first thing I remember is that I and my girlfriend are alone in my house (I don't have a girlfriend, though!) and we are together in the attic. The attic has wooden floor and is quite spacious and also big enough for a person to walk erect. I saw all this from a third person view. Even though I couldn't see either of the person's face clearly, I know the guy was me. There was only a bulb throwing yellow light to light the attic and it was hanging in the center of the roof of the attic. We did some things (I don't remember much. We ate fruits and other things, we read something... can't recall what we did.) and frequently kissed each other then I saw us naked and having sex and then suddenly I saw us dressed again and with her lying on me and smiling at me while we looked into each other's eyes. All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. As a third person view from the attic I saw my parents enter the house and I and my girlfriend greeted them. My father told me that there's going to be a festival in some place in India (I guess it was Kerala, because what I saw later, most of it looked like the temples and palaces of Kerala since I have lately visited Kerala). This festival is quite famous and also has an event of boxing in it. I thought in my mind, "so what?" but then my father interrupted my future thoughts by telling me that I was good at boxing and so I should participate in it. Now that is news, I thought, but never mind, I'll see a few games then try to do what other participants would be doing. Then I imagined myself standing fully dressed for boxing, with gloves on my hands and wearing a red hood on my head and looking at an ongoing match, trying to learn their moves. I saw myself in Kerala (my imagination tells me that it was Kerala and this time, I have first person view.) with my parents. We went to a temple to seek blessings for me, I really needed blessings! When inside the temple, I looked around. It was dawn and sunPosted by Hi! I am working as a researcher and a developer at Tata Research, Development and Design center, Pune. I am a retired member of Madhapur Toastmasters. I like watching movies, sitcoms and reading novels. I enjoy writing.
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Willie has been taking care of my dad on his days off. As much as I love my father, he can be very challenging to care for. He has trouble getting to the bathroom on time, and refuses to wear a depends. He will ask what we are going to have for lunch, and then say he's not hungry once you get lunch ready. He refuses to let his bath aid give him his bath at least once a week. His dementia leaves him unable to remember something that you just told him ten minutes ago. You have the same conversation with him over and over. Willie has been very patient and very kind to him through it all. They have been talking a lot and learning more about each other. They have been watching golf together. According to Willie, Dad really seems to like to watch golf. He has told Willie stories about how he used to caddy when he was in high school. Something I never knew. Willie says he doesn't seem to like baseball though. He falls asleep when that is on, well, who doesn't. Willie and Dad haven't always been close. Not that there have been any hard feelings between them, just that they haven't had a lot in common. Willie loves to garden, Dad loves to watch TV and read the paper. Willie loves sports, Dad has never been one to watch sports, (honestly though, I'm not sure that was his choice, Mom hated sports.) They just are different people. The day that Willie and I got married Dad was as proud as I have ever seen him. Not knowing much about the proper ways of weddings, I had Dad and Willie dressed in black tuxes with tails and ascots. This was really much too formal for the rest of the wedding. I thought they both looked perfect though. As my father put out his arm to escort me down the aisle his smile was as wide as I'd ever seen it. He promised not to let me trip and fall. We turned and headed toward Willie. Willie had not seen my dress. He had no idea what it was going to look like. He never even saw the pattern that was being used to make my dress. I was kind of superstitious about all things wedding. I didn't want to even come close to torking off the wedding god's. Willie did not see me the day of the wedding until those doors opened for Dad and I to walk down the aisle. (hey, we've been married thirty years come this next April, you going to argue with that?) Dad walked taller and straighter than I had ever seen him walk before. His limp, due to his prosthetic right leg, was barely noticeable. We walked at his pace, which was slow, but strong. He smiled all the way to the alter. Asked who gives this woman to marry this man, he proudly and firmly said "I do." He helped me up on to the alter with Willie, let go and sat down next to my mother. Willie was smiling ear to ear as my father and I walked toward him. He saw, for the first time, the lavender satin dress with white lace over lay that I was wearing. I smiled back at him. I felt like I was walking through a fog to my very own prince charming. It was the happiest day of my life. I couldn't stop smiling. Willie and my dad have spent more time together than they ever have before. They are learning much about each other. Finding more they have in common. More things to talk about. Dad's dementia makes it harder, but they are getting there none the less. We will be finding out what other sports Dad likes or doesn't like. Golf, yes, baseball, not so much. NASCAR, he seems OK with, football, we Posted by Sitting in a hospital room all day, trying to talk to a person who can't respond, can be very hard on the joints and the emotions. I quite often get up and roam around the hospital. While I walk feeling very helpless, my sister is driving herself crazy in Des Moines. When we were kids money was tight. I don't think we, as children, ever knew it though. My dad worked hard every day. I hardly ever remember him taking a sick day. He worked six days a week with two weeks vacation every year. About the only time he missed work was when he was sick enough to have to go to the hospital. It wasn't until my sister reached her teens and started going to a junior high school on the, let's say, more well to do side of town, that I started to realize that we didn't have a lot of money. Stacey had a hard time, as all teens do, seeing just how much she didn't have. I don't know if she had started realizing it sooner, but junior high really accentuated it. She had friends there that lived in big houses, that didn't have to share a room with their twerpy little sisters. Kids that had all of the fashionable clothes, the right shoes, everything she didn't. I think this was
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very hard on her. Ben and Stacey have had a tumultuous relationship from the day she was born. They have fought on and off my whole life. I, as the ever cute little sister, would always pick a side. Sometimes my sister's, sometimes my brother's. Even as a four year old I knew to pick the side which would better suit my need and desires. Usually, I would side with whoever was left in charge at the time. My mother had a job ever summer, from the time I was seven I think, at a Girl Scout resident camp about fifty miles away. She was gone for weeks at a time. This left my dad to take care of my sister, brother and me. Having to work six days a week, that meant my brother and sister were always left in charge of me. They always fought over who was "in charge" of everything. Ben would delight in pointing out the things that Stacey didn't have that all of her friends had. Stacey would delight in poking at his buttons of insecurity as well. They worked very hard at making each other angry. That's when I would step in and make things worse by siding with one or the other. Our lives were like that for years. I don't know that my sisterWhile Stacey was running all over central Iowa, I was with Ben. No changes, no answers, no progress. It has been a heart wrenching week. Usually, there are up and downs. With Ben there have just been downs. More and more downs. The hospital wants to get Ben out of the ICU. His vitals are stable, his decline has seemed to reach bottom. He really doesn't belong in ICU any more. We understand that. Instead of move him to another floor they want to transfer him back to the hospital in Des Moines where this all started. None of the different services, at the hospital he's at now, want him on their floor. Neuro is convinced he is suffering from hepatic encephalopathy, Liver diseases are convinced he is not. No one is willing to take him on their service. Stacey has another fight to fight while I stay with our father. She is calling the social worker that has been working with Ben for the liver transplant. She is calling the patient advocate. She is being the hero Ben needs. Room With a View There has been no change in Ben. He is neither progressing nor regressing. I fear the doctors are slowly giving up hope. They come in, desperately attempt to get him to follow even the simplest commands, always to no avail. They attempted a repeat MRI last night. He moved around too much and they couldn't get any pictures. They are discussing today if it would be safe to sedate him to try again. They have been giving him lactolose to try to clear toxins from his blood stream to see if that would help, so far it hasn't. All it has done is turn his stool to water. They decided to hold it for now. Ben is in a room where we can see a large ornate tower. I don't know what it is or what it symbolizes, if anything. I know that if I could ask Ben he could, and would, give me an hour long lesson on the subject. When I was in nursing school I had a term paper due. In the past I had gotten away with hand writing my papers. I couldn't type, and had no typewriter, yes I said typewriter, nor a computer. This particular teacher was requiring the paper be typed. My brother offered to let me use his computer. "It's easy to use," he told me, and then gave me a typical hour long tutorial. Of course I tuned out after the first two sentences. Ben wasn't good at dumbing down instructions. He either didn't get that others didn't understand his technical jargon or he just liked being superior. I suspect a little bit of both. After his instructions session was over he went into his room and I stared blankly at the screen. I was terrified. I just knew I was going to do something to wipe out the whole drive thingy he was going on and on about. There was no choice, I had to touch the keyboard. It looked harmless enough. I didn't see teeth or any indication that the mouse doohicky was really a rattle snake in disguise. I started to "type." I use the term type very loosely. I was typing in the sense that I was touching the keys, and letters were showing up on the screen. To say I was typING though was a LIE! It took me forever! Nine hours later, that is not exaggerated in any way, I had typed nine pages. I was so close to done. For some reason, and I can't remember why, the kids were with me that day. Willie must have been working. They must have been being very good, too. Honestly, I only remember Josh being there. There is a reason for that. I was almost done. I was on the last page. I'd been sitting there for, really truly, nine hours working on it.
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My dad and Ben must have been entertaining the kids that whole time. Valerie was maybe seven, Josh was three, and Alyssa was one or so. They had been so good. Josh came over to give m "Hit save." "Was I supposed to do that?" That night Ben went through my entire paper. He cleared out every last strange little symbol that didn't belong. He probably corrected my grammar and spelling as well. He printed it off and handed it to me. He was my hero again! The doctors just tried a drug that they hoped would get him to react quickly. It was called flumazanol. It blocks benzodiazepines from brain cells. They said there was a chance that meds that had been given even a while ago might still be roaming around in him. This drug would block their effects. It would work quickly, with in a few minutes. Ben could be back in a few minutes. It didn't work. There was no response. No response, save one. I saw a tear roll down the side of his face. I feel in my heart now, that he is very aware of what is going on. That he heard the doctor say how this drug would work. He was very hopeful. When it didn't work, he cried. When my sister was here with my brother the other night she must have had trouble sleeping. Ben's moaning gets very loud. The nurse called and requested a sleep kit for her. It consists of a mask and earplugs. By the time it had gotten up to the floor, Stacey was asleep and the nurse wasn't going to wake her up just to give it to her. When we were kids our family went camping a lot. When we went on vacations we were camping. Anytime there was a long weekend, we were camping. Inevitably, there would also be car problems. My dad drove a Chevy Corvair. It's engine was in the back instead of the front. I don't know why. Dad liked them though. Corvairs did not have a large enough engine to tow a camper trailer, but tow a camper trailer it did. When the car broke down, and it always did, my dad would cuss at it and always blame this one set of mechanics that chained the oil once. It was always their fault because they did something to it to make it leak oil. It was never because a little corvair shouldn't be towing, well, anything. One trip we took down to Nauvoo, Illinois, was a rare time we didn't have engine trouble, but we still had car trouble. We had stumbled upon Nauvoo on a previous excursion. My dad was the stereotypical male driver. He would not ask for directions, he would not use a map. He KNEW where he was going. We got lost, A LOT!! Almost every time we got into the car to go somewhere new. We lived in Des Moines, Iowa, and we were going to Geode State park in south east Iowa. Somehow we ended up in Illinois. Now how my dad didn't notice us crossing the MISSISSIPPI, I'll never know. We ended up in Nauvoo. My mother, who was a big history buff, absolutely fell in love with the place, so we returned there many times. (Still getting lost most of the time. Dad KNEW how to get there damn it!) This particular trip to Nauvoo it rained. It rained a lot. it rained hard! As a child, I didn't care. The state park had this wonderful playground that was right in the middle of a pine forest. You could play there in the hardest down pour and barely get wet at all. Ben would always push me on the swings and do underdoggies. (For those who might not know, an underdoggy is when the person pushing you on a swing would push you so high that they could run under you) Ben would swing him self as high as he could and jump out of the swing. He would fly through the air, arms and legs flaying around. I thought he was superman. It was at this playground that he encouraged me to jump from a swing for the first time. He wouldn't let me go very high to do it though. The day we were to head home Dad noticed that the car and the trailer had both sunk deeply into the rain soaked ground. Being a kid I thought it was a wonderful thing and that maybe we'd get to stay another day. Dad, had to be back at work the next day, you know the real world, that kids are so oblivious to, so get the car unstuck was the mission. My dad has an artificial leg, a WWII injury. It always came down to my mom in the driver seat, my dad pushing by the driver side door so he could give my mom "instructions", and my brother pushing at the back of the car. (Did you notice I said, always, yeah, this happened a lot, too) This particular time Stacey and I were in the car because it was still raining. At some point dad felt the car move just a bit and told my mom to floor it
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. She did. She stomped on the gas, and held it down. My brother, still in the back, got pummeled with mud and water! He was covered head to toe. He looked like a mud monster. My mom and dad were completely unaware of what was happening in the back. My sister and I were rolling around on the back seat howling with laughter. We got very angry looks from my mom and dad. Mom let off the gas and asked us what we thought was so funny. We pointed out the back window at Ben. My mom held back her lThe nurse came in to give Ben his bath. That didn't even rouse him. The nurse and I both started really worrying. Then she had to clean around his catheter, he moaned! I was never so happy to hear that moan. He moaned for a little while more while she finished his bath. He kept moaning after she was done. I drifted off to sleep. Posted by My sister has stayed with my brother the last two nights. I stayed home and tended to my dad's needs. Yesterday I brought my dad out to see Ben. He talked to Ben and told the nurse stories. Ben's nurse had been in the air force so he listened very kindly to my dad's stories of WWII. I'm not sure how much my dad is understanding about what is going on. One minute he is very aware that his son is very sick. The next minute he refers to Ben as his brother. Not just mixing up his name, but really believing he is his brother. He has several times said that if Don, meaning Ben, passes away, that that will leave him the last one. The last one of what, I'll ask. The last one of the old people. The last one of "his" family. I try to remind him that Ben is his son, not his brother. Sometimes it takes, others it doesn't. Maybe Dad is protecting himself from the hurt by believing that it is Uncle Don in that bed, rather than his son. He knows, it is very possible, that the person in the bed may never come back. He just is very confused as to who that person is. I got to the hospital today and bought an iced chai tea and headed up to the fifth floor where my brother lay fighting the battle for his life. When I got to his room, the electrodes for the EEG had been removed. That machine was out of the room. He was still moaning and still reaching to the sky. I thought once or twice he was trying to make words through his moans. Wishful thinking I'm sure. I talked to him. Told him the goings on of family members. Told him how excited his grand niece was to start preschool. I reminded him that he needed to be here to watch his nephew's upcoming excursion into fatherhood. I thought I saw a glimmer of response, was it real or coincidental? My brother is a techy. He loves just about anything there is to do with technology. He built the website for his church, St. George's. He is very proud of the site and very possessive of it. He works hard on it. I'm pretty sure most if not all of the photos on the site were taken by him. A friend of his from church told me that every now and then he would offer Ben a photo for the site, Ben would politely say no for one reason or another. He apparently wanted the work to all be his. Ben loves his computers. He knows how to fix about anything on a computer. If he was told he had to give up either his books or his computers to survive, he'd probably choose not to survive. This all being said, Ben, has a flip phone. Yes, a flip phone. The only reason that he has that is because his previous phone, a model from 1988, fell in the toilet. Ben will trudge around carrying a huge computer, his iPod and his cell phone everywhere he goes, rather than buy a smartphone. In February when my father was having gallbladder surgery Ben was lugging all of those things with him throughout the hospital. The computer is not a light thing to carry. I don't remember how the subject came up, but we got onto the subject of smart phones. "I don't need a smartphone," he said, holding up his phone from 1922, "this one works just fine." I looked at him. I looked at my sister. I looked back at Ben and his collection of stuff all around him. I held up my iPhone and said, "see all of that stuff all around you, that heavy computer, that iPod, that phone. I have all of that stuff, RIGHT HERE!" He looked at me, with the ever famous I know more than you look he has, "but if I want to edit a photo for the St. George's web site, I can't do it on that." I sighed, looked at my sister, and sat back in my chair. There was no winning this one. The Father from the local church
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came by again today. He said a prayer for healing. I thought I saw a little spark of my brother come through while he was here. It is just so hard to tell. When the Father left I went to the bathroom for the fiftieth time. One thing good about drinking chai tea, you get your exercise. Ben sometimes seems to listen intently to his music that I keep playing next to him. Especially prayers, and chants. Once in a while he seems to try to chant along. Then returns to moaning. I keep the music going, and hope that at some point his moans will turn into chants. The barrage of tests go on. Blood cultures, so far, are still negative. Spinal tap cultures, so far, are still negative. Urine samples, stool samples, sputum samples, all negative, so far. I know this should feel like a good thing. No infection, so far. It doesn't feel good though. If just one came back with a positive then they could treat it. If they treat it, Ben might come back. My brother has a, shall we say, a very unique sense of humor. He enjoys a pun much more than any normal person could. When he tells a joke he quite often uses references that most people have no idea what he is talking about. Then when you look at him blankly, obviously not getting it, he delights in showing his superior intelligence to explain it to you, you poor uneducated soul. Ben is a studier. He is like a sponge. If he decides to learn about something, he learns every last detail. He reads every study, manual, or book on the subject and retains it. He retains it all. He enjoys the process of learning. He would swim in knowledge if it was possible. Letting it soak in through every pore of his body. He seriously loves to know things. Then he enjoys even more imparting his knowledge unto others. Hence, the fifteen minute answer to a yes or no question. Asked a question, any question, he will fold his left arm over his stomach, rest his right elbow on his left hand. He will bring his right hand up to his chin, stroke his beard, look up and off to the right, squint his eyes, and say "Wellllllll." Anyone that knows Ben, has seen and knows this gesture all too well. When you see it, you know you are in for quite a history lesson, or a detailed account or about to be regaled with a litany of facts about what ever trivial question you made the mistake to ask. I admit, you will always learn something, whether you like it or not. You will always leave with a new bit of knowledge you never thought you would know. You always have some new factoid stuck in your head. However, when the question you asked was, "is this DVD yours or Dad's?" You Becky Berry My brother had to have another EEG. Apparently they haven't ruled out seizures as a cause of my brother's condition. Yesterday when they did one, the tech finished it and took the leads right off. Today, she printed off a copy of the results and left to go show it to the doctors. She left the leads hooked up. I got up to talk to my brother. I noticed that there was a mess in his bed. The tube they had put in to gather his stool had slipped out. I decided to go downstairs while they changed his bed and cleaned him up. I went down and got some substance formally known as food and tried to eat. I called a Father at a local church that had called to check on Ben. I took deep breaths and said a little prayer. Not a prayer of thankfulness for pail watermelon and mushy lasagna, I knew God wouldn't believe that anyway. I'm pretty sure lying to God is a mortal sin. I said a prayer for healing or relief from pain. If God is ready to bring Ben home then please let it be painless. If he wants him to get better then please let it be quick. My brother's religion is Greek Orthodox. My sister is Jewish. My father is Roman Catholic. My mother believed in Native American theology. Religion is not a binding factor in my family. Neither is it something that is causes tensions. One thing my mother instilled in us as children is a tolerance and even embracement of other beliefs and cultures. Which is probably why our own family is very diverse. I don't have a church, but I have very strong religious beliefs and a strong faith in God that has led me to believe in the idea that every situation has a multitude of outcomes. Something that may seem horrible or terrible at the moment it is happening to you may be the best thing that can happen to you in that situation. It may take decades before you know that, but you will, one day, know it. I have learned over the years that when you pray your heart out for something, and God says no, which he will, one day you will know why. When you finally realize why, you will look back and see, "damm
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, God really knows what he's doing. "So, I've learned to pray for what he thinks is best, rather than what I think I want. When I do that it is with an open heart, I am often amazed at the outcome. Usually something I would have never thought of. I got back to the room, my brother was still hooked up to the EEG. I asked the nurse and he said they were still evaluating the results. If they find something they may still leave him hooked up. I put on a gown and gloves and went in. My brother was restless. I hooked up his Becky Berry Tuesday morning Dad and I woke up and started our usual routine. I had remembered that my dad ate a lot of poached eggs when I was a kid so I decided to try to make him poached eggs for breakfast. With the stress of the weekend I wanted to make him a breakfast he would enjoy. One was a success, one was not. He ate them both, because that's just how he is. The phone rang, it was my sister." They are no longer going to send Ben to the nursing home. "She said." The doctor said he took a turn for the worse overnight and they are going to transport him to University of Iowa. He is no longer forming any words. He is responsive but just can't make words. "My brother is a very verbal very wordy person. Asked a yes or no question he will give you a 15 minute answer. He was one frustrated person." Thank God, "I told my sister. She went on to explain when it looked like they would get him transferred. Transferring from one medical facility to another is a long process. All of the stars in the universe have to align just perfectly and then it will take two more hours beyond that. I got things all packed up for Dad to spend as much time at the hospital as he was comfortable. I packed extra jeans and underwear, just in case of accidents. I got his meds all together and made sure he had his glasses. I called my kids and let them know what was going on with their uncle. They each headed out to. our house to wait for the call that Ben was on his way. Finally about 2: 30 pm the call came, that would put him in Iowa City between 4: 00 and 4: 30. About 4: 00 pm I started the process of getting Dad to the car. I pushed his wheel chair down the hall, carried it down the front steps and locked the brakes. Dad got his walker, stood up and slowly struggled his way down the hall and down the steps. In his wheelchair I walked him around the house and to the car. Once he was inside the car I put his wheelchair in the back. The rest of us all climbed in and we took off for the hospital. We got to the emergency room and they took my dad, my sister and I back to the room my brother was placed in. The ER staff seemed a little confused as to why he wasn't just taken to the floor. They ran tests, a rather unpleasant neurology intern kept running in and out yelling at my brother like he was deaf. My brother was still able to understand. He could respond but not with words. He was laughing some at appropriate times and crying at appropriate times. He was trying to ask me something and I couldn't figure out what. I looked to Stacey and she said he might be trying to ask me why I was doing this. I looked at her perplexed. She continued that he had asked her that the day before. We as siblings had had our differences. Some more severe than others. I looked to Ben and asked if that's what he was trying to ask. He looked at me in a way that I knew it was. I just looked at him and said," you're our brother, how many brothers do you think we have? "He looked at me, tears rolling out of his eyes as he reached out to hug me. I hugged him back as he kept crying. A friend of Ben's from his church came to the hospital with Stacey. He talked to Ben and even chanted to him. Ben tried to chant along with him. Waiting in an ER exam room is awful. The bed that Ben was laying on was uncomfortable, he kept putting his legs over the rails trying to crawl out. The chairs for visitors are really ancient torture devices cleverly disguised as modern furniture. It was after ten when they finally moved him to a floor. He was put on the Neuro floor. From the time he got to the floor he started another decline. He stopped responding to me as much. He wasn't making eye contact as much. He was moaning rhythmically. There was a change. I stayed the night in his room. As much as he had been fighting to get out of bed I didn't want him to end up falling. About 4: 00 am he settled down and seemed to be resting. I dozed off as well. When I woke up, Ben had declined further. He
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was now not following verbal cues. He wasn't following verbal commands. He was however still pulling away while the lab personnel took his blood. My brother is needle phobic to a very severe extreme. He leaves the room when my dad even needs his finger poked for an INR. He will recoil if someone is getting a shot..... on TV. The fact that my brother was still fighting back against needles was, well, a good thing in my eyes. A barrage of tests were ordered. Many IVs were hung. A decision was made to move him up to intensive care. More tests were done. An EKG, an EEG, blood tests, urine cultures, chest Xrays. Still no real answers. In the afternoon they decided to do a spinal tap. I told the doctor under no circumstances let him see that needle. He would freak. They came in to do the tap and asked my sister and I to leave. We went downstairs grabbed a bite and headed back up. They were still in the room. We went back down to the waiting room for a few minutes. When we went back again they had just finished. The nurse came out and told us they weren't able to get the fluid. In a weird way we were both happy. Not that they couldn't get it, but maybe it meant he fought it, that he was being Ben. She went on to say he did great with it, they just needed weren't able to get in. Our faces must of sunk because she looked at us oddly. "It's good that it didn't bother him," I explained, "but it was very bad that he was a trooper." That was NOT Ben. That was not what we were hoping to hear. Stacey and I decided to head home and get some sleep. We got home and explained what had happened throughout the day to Dad. He seemed to understand. This morning I called before I came back into the hospital so I could give Dad an update before I left. Ben was the same as the day before. He had some swelling that they wanted to check out and were sending him for a CT scan of his abdomen. They had put in a nasal gastric feeding tube to start giving him a medicine to lower his ammonia level and see if he responds to that. The liver doctors don't really believe he has hepatic encephalopathy, but it certainly won't hurt to try treating him as if he did. After getting Dad his breakfast and showing Stacey where everything was I left for the hospital. When I got there I saw that they had put him under contact isolation. If I wanted to touch him I needed to wear a gown and gloves. The CT scan had shown some fluid on his abdomen. They wanted to do a paracentesis to analyze it. Make sure there wasn't an infectious process going on there. Ben has had paracentesis before. Liver disease can cause fluid to fill the abdomen. Sometimes this fluid needs to be removed to take pressure off the other organs and make him more comfortable. I'm now in the waiting room while they stick my brother with yet another dreaded evil needle. There is still no real answer. He is turning into a science experiment. The only choice they have is to check for everything and hope they stumble upon the answer. When we were kids he would pick on me. He would tickle me relentlessly until I would cry because I couldn't breath. He would boss me around when our parents weren't home. He would constantly make me feel stupid by correcting me. In other words, he was a normal big brother. I would get my revenge in any way I could. One of my favorite ways was to call him Benny Boy. He hated it. That's why I loved it. My parents actually were kind of amused by it. So, of course, I made sure to call him Benny Boy when they were around and he couldn't get retribution. My parents would laugh, Ben would seethe. I was quite a bit younger than my sister and brother, so I could get away with stuff like that because I was cute! There were times though, that my big brother was my protector. One time when we were vacationing in the Black Hills, Ben, Stacey and I were out walking. Somewhere along the way I stepped on a cactus. The thorn went through my tennis shoe and poked my foot. I cried, I was a bit of a cry baby. Ben picked me up, put me on his back and carried me, piggy back, all the way back to camp. I realized probably Half way down the hill, and it was a big hill, that my foot wasn't really hurt, but I loved getting piggy back rides from my brother. We got back down to camp, where our parents were. My mom grabbed me and checked my foot. It was fine. My mom was very proud of my brother for taking care of me that day. I remember her telling the next door neighbor and a few other people about in the days after we got home from vacation. She would glow with pride every time I heard her tell it.
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My brother was also my teacher. He taught me many things. Including, most important to me at the time, how to ride a bike. My mom didn't believe in training wheels. She thought they were a crutch, and that kids got addicted to them. Yeah, I don't get it either, but there you are. Ben ended up being my training wheels. He encouraged me for weeks to keep trying to ride the little red bike that used to be his. My dad took out the piece that made it a "boy's bike." He was much too tall for it. Therefore it was now mine. Though he reminded me often that it was really his. He would hold me up on my / his bike, running beside me making sure I didn't fall. He was the one to give me that last push off. That final hands in the air, "I'm not holding you any more" let go that transitioned me from learning to ride a bike, to actually riding a bike. Therefore, my hero. My brother is now the one who needs protected and needs a hero. He has been battling non alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver for several years now. It turns out that he has a genetic abnormality that caused Ben not to produce a necessary enzyme that protects the liver. Over his lifetime the damage was occurring unknown to him. By the time he found out what was going on, the damage had been done. He needed a new liver. Getting an organ, any organ, is a very complicated process. It takes a long time. You have to qualify, not just medically, but financially, you have to show that you can keep up with the medication regime, and show that you have support for back up. You have to have a specific person ordained as your support person. That person has to be able to come to appointments with you, be available to make sure you take your meds, basically be your best bud plus. Ben has been going through all of the interviews and tests to get a transplant. The one thing that has been holding him back is the financial part, and his MELD score. A MELD score is a battery of scoring how severe a disease process is, and how badly a person needs a transplant compared to someone else who may also be a match for that organ. His MELD score has been at a point where he is considered not sick enough for a liver. Saturday evening things changed. Things changed abruptly and severely. A very frightening life turn. I got a call from my sister. I couldn't get to the phone in time and missed it. She left a voicemail and I figured I would check it in a few minutes. I was busy making supper. Then my phone rang again. This time it was my brother's ring tone. "Ooooh, myyyyy, oooooh myyyyyy," George Takei's distinctive voice kept repeating. This time I got to the phone. I picked it up, slid my finger across the screen to answer it. In broken words, out of order and hard to understand, my brother started talking to me. He was at work. He was wondering if his speech pattern sounded weird to me. I listened hard and tried to understand what he was saying. Once I got what he was trying to ask me, I told him that yes, he sounded very weird and I was having trouble understanding him. He asked if I thought he should go to the hospital and I told him, yes. He had already called my sister and had told her that if he hadn't snapped out of it by 8: 00, he was going to have her take him over to the hospital. I told him to go right away. He was the only one working and needLast night, the hospital said they were going to send Ben to University of Iowa Hospitals today to have them biopsy the lesion. They weren't equipped for such delicate procedures. Since it is affecting his speech, it, or at least part of it, is quite probably in the language center of the brain. That makes biopsy and extraction even more difficult. I wanted Ben transferred right away, but they wanter to wait until today. Today my sister got to the hospital and found out they were going to transfer Ben, to a nursing home, with a very poor reputation. She was able to nip that in the bud, but they were still determined to ship him out. Out any where they could. They started talking about a home in Perry, another hour away from here, and another hour away from Iowa City where he needs to go for most of his appointments. As it turned out it was another nursing home with a bad reputation as well. My sister kept fighting them. At one point I told her to have him discharged to home and then just take him to Iowa City to the ER. Ben was worried about the legality of it. While I'm sure it is legal, I don't think he was willing to take the chance his insurance would decide not to pay if he did. Oh, and by the way, at this point we still don't know if my brother has a malignant
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time bomb in his head. Finally, the social worker found a good nursing home in Baxter. Ben agreed to it. Baxter is actually a little closer to me and not that far from my sister. It seemed like a good compromise. As the weekend turned into the week, not only did my brother not improve, but according to my sister has gotten weaker. He doesn't have the strength to walk even with a walker. He actually fell while trying to go to the bathroom Sunday. Whatever is wrong is not getting better. Tomorrow, my big brother goes to a nursing home. We still don't know what is wrong. We still don't know if he has a cancer brewing in his skull. He is depressed. He needs a hero. Posted by Today Dad and I had to go to Des Moines to get his toe nails clipped. Yes, it seems silly that we had to drive an hour and a half to get toe nails clipped. I have, since he moved here to live with us, tried to keep as much normal as I can. One of the things I have insisted on is that all of his medical care continue at the VA in Des Moines. It is where he is used to. He knows his way around, he knows people there. Everything else in his life has changed, I wanted to let him have something that didn't. On the way there he talked about things from the past. He talked about things that we drove past. While he didn't talk like he was living in the past, he wasn't quite in the present either. As we were leaving the house today, he asked about the neighbor lady that brought us some tomatoes yesterday. Then said that they were the neighbors that had asked permission to build something next to the fence on our property. "But then they tore it down," he said. We don't have a fence. He pointed to our shed and insisted that was the building. The building he had just said had been torn down. I told him, no that was our shed. He was confusing our house with his house, where a neighbor did ask and build a shed, next to the fence, on his property. He has good days and bad days, today wasn't the best. All the way to Des Moines, he would point out things that had been there forever and talk about them like they were brand new. At the same time he talked of taking his mom to Davenport to see her sister. The concept that that was a long time ago seemed intact. He knew that his aunt had passed away a long time ago. We got to the VA hospital, he knew where we needed to go. He directed me in the right direction and we got a few other things done besides getting his toe nails cut on his one foot. We went to the eye care clinic and got his glasses adjusted again, and got him some ted hose. He even got to chat a bit with some physical therapists he worked with while he was at the Community Living Center there. I think he kind of enjoyed the trip today. On the way home he started talking about the past again. He told me a story about Billie Jean Triber. Billie Jean was, I think, his first love. He met her while he was in the service during WWII. I think, perhaps, had her parents been different, he would have married her. Her parents had money, he didn't. She was going to college in Nevada. I haven't quite figured out how they met, but I do know that her mother didn't approve. They were from Alaska, and Billie Jean's mother made her leave college and come back home. She had someone more suitable in mind for Billie Jean to wed. This isn't the first time I have heard of Billie Jean. When Dad speaks of her, a little light, stardust perhaps, gleams in his eyes. He has a look I never see any other time. He said today that he would like to see her again. He knows there is a possibility that she has passed away. He almost said it, but got a catch in his voice when he did. He said, "the last letter I got from her was the day before her wedding, she was asking me to come get her and bring her home." He said that twice. I think he wishes he had done just that. I looked up Billie Jean Triber in Alaska tonight when I got home. I got one good hit. There is an organization called Pioneers of Alaska in Anchorage. I found a newsletter dPosted by Since my dad came to live with us, most of my time is spent looking after his needs. If he wants to go out for a ride, we go, but then he usually doesn't want to get out of the car. We just drive around. Sometimes with a destination in mind, sometimes not. Most times though, if we have a destination, it is someplace that I run into real quick, like the store. About the only time we ever really stop anywhere is at Olive Garden to eat lunch. I never thought I would say
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this, but I'm kind of tired of Olive Garden. Once we tried going up to Coralville Lake. At that time the water was really high so most places were blocked off. We never got out of the car then either. Today, Dad was out and about with my brother for the day. Bazinga and I had the day to ourselves. I grabbed my camera, we got in the car, and away we went. I didn't know where I was going to go, I just went. I was out of the house, and I could go where ever I wanted. I pointed the car southwest and drove. I had a sense of freedom I hadn't had in two months. I love my dad dearly, and I am so grateful to have this time with him, but it is hard sometimes. Dad's dementia is getting worse. Not quickly, thank God, but it is progressing. He asks me the same questions over and over again. Every single time Bazinga barks at something dad laughs and says, "what is he barking at now?" He thinks it is funny that he's barking. Me, not so much. There are times when he goes thru his mail and asks me the same questions over and over. He will put one piece of mail down, after asking me questions about it, then pick it up again in a few minutes and ask the same questions again, and again a few more minutes later. I keep having to tell myself that he's not doing it on purpose. His short term memory doesn't transfer to long term memory. He truly doesn't remember asking the questions. It can be very frustrating, more for me than him, as he doesn't remember already asking. That's why today was so needed. I needed a day to just clear my mind. A day to just chase dragonflies and watch ducks. A day when I didn't have to answer ANY questions, much less the same one over and over. I sometimes feel like a mother of a toddler again. I know that sounds awful, but it is quite like that. Only this toddler is 160 pounds, and has every legal right to say no. The saddest part is knowing that Dad is going to get worse, not better. A toddler grows and develops. He learns and becomes a little person. Dad is going to decline. He is going to lose what makes him, him. Knowing this makes me want to spend as much time with him as I can, but I do still need a break now and again. Honestly, I think he enjoys the break from me, too. Bazinga needed time out and about as well. We both enjoyed the day. We spent a long time at a little county park we found by Montezuma. There was a lake, and ducks and bullfrogs and dragon flies. We sat and watched. Just watched. And watched some more. We got sunshine, we got fresh air, we got cleared minds. Well, Bazinga got fresh air and sunshine, there isn't much of a mind there to clear. He was happy none the less. He did all of the dog things. He sniffed, he peed, he sniffed, he peed. When he was done with that, he sniffed and peed some more. Whoever decided that someone who has a hard life has a "dog's life" didn't know my dog. My favorite part of the day, just taking pictures. I fell on my butt at one point trying to get a photo of a dragonfly, but I didn't care. (I just hoped no one saw me. If they did, well, who cares. Odds are I will never see them again.) I picked myself up, brushed myself off and kept snapping away. Luckily, I didn't land on Bazinga. He was very happy about that. Quiet surrounded me. It was wonderful. It was exactly what I needed. It fueled my energy. It helped me gain strength for the days to come. Bazinga enjoyed the long ride home. His head out the window. His nose sniffing happily away. The chicken made it! Willie and I drove from Williamsburg to Grimes with the air conditioner on full blast the whole way. The horse rode in the back of the van, and the chicken rode on my lap. We made it to the park, both cakes intact, Willie and I, popsicles. Nothing melted, and nothing broken. With a birthday in August it is a perfect time to have a party in a park. Somehow, every year, the weather has been wonderful for her party. Even last year when the Midwest was a scalding hot wasteland, the day of her party was wonderful. This year was no different. The weather was perfect. Not too hot, a nice breeze blowing. It was a good day. Kahlen and her friends played long and hard. Presents were opened and Kahlen made out like a bandit. One wonderful present was from her Grammy, Shane's mom. She is going to pay for a year of dance lessons for Kahlen. Such a perfect present for her! She loves to dance and already tries to do ballet moves. After watching
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the gymnasts in the summer Olympics she has been seen doing moves like she saw them do. Now that she is a big girl, she can do things that only "big people" can do. Like climbing the jungle gym. "Only big people can do this," she told me. "It is very scary!" Baby brother Paxton got in on the fun. He was a little cranky that day. We now know why, he was working on cutting his first tooth. Swinging in the swing made everything all better. He would have stayed there all day if he hadn't gotten hungry. I do believe the birthday girl had a fabulous time. Her mommy and daddy gave her a wonderful party! When she got home she played on her bike for a while, but was exhausted. Mommy told her that it was going to be an early bedtime night, and Kahlen said, "OK." 100% proof that it was a successful day! Alyssa asked me if I wanted to make Kahlen's birthday cake this year. I love making birthday cakes. I don't have any training with it, so things don't always work out the way I hope they will. I try real hard though. Kahlen wanted a farm theme party. Alyssa and I had taken Kahlen and Paxton down to my friend Dawn's house for a weekend in May and Kahlen fell in love with all of the animals she had. Even the chickens, despite one rooster (forever to be known as the "bad chicken") chasing her down and terrifying her. For her cake she couldn't decide between a horse and a chicken. I'd ask her and she'd say, horse. I'd ask her again and it would be chicken. I finally said, how about both! She smiled and said yes. The horse cake I made out of cupcakes. Lemon cupcakes with blueberry filling. I "painted" a poster board with frosting to set them on. The frosting made the cupcakes stick into place and gave the horse a back ground besides a white board. The chicken was a lot more complicated. The easiest part was the nest. Chocolate almond bark, melted and chow mien noodles stirred in, then shaped into a nest. Easy peasy. Kahlen wanted strawberry cake, so that's what the chicken would be. I baked the cakes and then froze them so they would cut cleaner to shape them. I made a strawberry cream filling for between the layers. Quite tasty if I do say so myself. However, tasty did not make for sticky and the layers kept sliding apart. I looked around the kitchen for something to keep the layers in place. I found a reusable plastic straw, I ran it through the layers, and it worked! The next step, the head. Dawn's rooster, Ernie, was my inspiration. Ernie, WAS NOT, the BAD chicken. I had been given explicit instructions, by Kahlen, not to make it look like the BAD chicken. To make the head I used rice crispy treats. They are moldable and stick together pretty good. I molded the head around the end of the straw sticking up out of the cake. I had to hold it together for quite a while. It was hot enough that day that the marshmallows didn't want to firm back up. Once I got it just about where I wanted it I stuck it in the fridge to get it to stay in place. Of course every chicken needs a tail. Yeah, yeah, I know, it looks more like a turkey tail, but poultry is poultry. Kahlen didn't know the difference anyway, as long as it wasn't the bad chicken. The tail kept trying to slip off as well. I called Willie to see if they had bamboo shiskabob (I know I didn't spell it right, not even close enough for spell check to figure it out.) skewers at Lowe's, they didn't. I looked around the kitchen again. A BABY SPOON! I stuck a baby spoon down the chickens tail. It seemed to be working. While I was applying the gray frosting all I could think of was the movie "Steel Magnolias." Do you know that movie? It is one of my favorites. One of the main characters, Shelby, was getting married, and her groom to be asked his aunt to make the grooms cake. He wanted an armadillo, and they are gray. It was a red velvet cake. They called it the "bleeding armadillo cake." This wasn't red velvet, but it was strawberry. More details were added. It took quite a while as I had to stop to put it in the fridge every now and then. The end result was pretty good. I think it looked like a chicken anyway. Next question, would it make the trip to Grimes with out either melting or just falling apart? My daughter in law, Caitlin, is pregnant. If you didn't already know this it must be because you don't live in Iowa, and not Facebook friends with anyone I know. You see, Caitlin is very happy and very excited to be pregnant. She has wanted a baby well, at least since the second she and Josh said "I
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do. "I suspect however that this longing for a baby was inborn in her. She is one of those people who were just born to be a parent. The theme for the shower was Rock a Bye Baby, with the emphasis on ROCK. I had a lot of fun making the invitations. I experimented with several different, what I called, prototypes, and settled on the one shown. The card stock had several shades of blue, and they were all hand painted, so each was unique. Unfortunately, some got out a little late, that's what happens when you do things by hand though. (that's my story and I'm sticking to it!) My daughter Valerie came out to my house to make cupcakes and help make some decorations two days before. My daughter Alyssa, and my friends Dawn and Kelley and I spent the evening before decorating. As you can see we carried the music theme into the decorations. Family and friends were there. The soon to be new great grandmother and grand mother were both there. This will be the first grand baby for Caitlin's parents. I think perhaps, even as excited as they are, just perhaps, great grandma is just a tad bit more excited. There was also food, onsie painting, silly games and conversation. We had people write happy, (OK silly and some a little sarcastic,) messages on diapers for the new parents to use for those endless middle of the night diaper changes. Something to make them giggle in their delirium. Many had the message," make Josh change this one. "We had clues all over in the decorations, for people to try and guess the baby's name. Which is Noah. I think people had fun. I know Caitlin was excited and enjoying seeing everyone. There were babies galore there, that made her even happier. One little glitch, which I had nothing to do with, so, not my fault, was the baby registry. She was registered at Target. You know, so that she would get the things she wanted and needed. AND not get any duplicates...... She ended up with three pack and plays. Yes, three. OK, maybe one was my fault, I went at the last minute and bought one. I had noticed the day before that it wasn't checked off the list. When I got to Target the list wouldn't print out, (see still not my fault) and I took the chance and got one anyway. On the bright side, I think they took two back and used it toward a crib. One game we played was one I made up. I painted five different pictures on poster board. Each one depicted a song with the word" rock "in it and a little hint about who the artist that sang it was. Below are photos of said paintings. Can you figure out the songs and artists? I am a self proclaimed artist and photographer, but will never make any money at it because, lets face it not many people get that chance. But thats ok, because it means my art is all my own, not what someone else wants it to be. Although, I have recently made a little money painting windows, which has been a lot of fun. I love my family more than I would have ever imagined. That is the one constant in my life. I am a wife, mother and grandmother. Even with every change that comes along, no matter how far I am from them, my family is my life. Please know that all of the text and photos are copy right protected. All rights reserved. Not to be duplicated or used in anyway with out express permission of the author of this blog I know It has been forever since I posted. I just haven't been able to find words to write. It's not that I haven't had... Stroganoff. What does stroganoff have to do with Tucker the Pig... well, I'm going to tell you. If you are a great foodie who loves his... I woke up this morning full of hope for the day. Stacey was coming out to stay with Dad while I went to a doctor appointment. After my app... Yesterday, I decided it was time. I've lived in this house for a year and a half now. The room has been there the whole time. I peake...
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Michael and I grew up together. We went through grade school together. Then on to high school, where together we stayed. Neither of us wanted to pursue a "higher" education, so we decided to travel to broaden ourselves, as the terminology was in those days. At that time, we thought good would always win out over evil. But we were yet to be taught our lessons of the real world. Evil does sometimes triumph over good. Michael James was six feet tall. He had straight blonde hair and blue eyes. The bluest eyes I ever did see. If limpid means clear as I think it does, then Michael's eyes were limpid pools of blue. The color was that of the sky, perhaps a little lighter with flecks of yellow throughout the irises. Upon meeting Michael for the first time one was taken aback by his eyes. They did not bore into your soul - they lit up your life. Then there was his smile. I had known Michael for many years and I don't think I ever saw him without that shit - eatin 'grin on his puss. And that grin, and its persistence, was amazing, given the fact that Michael suffered from a skin problem. He had large red patches on his skin, including his face. They came and went. I thought the name of the disease was psoriasis, but of that I am not certain. Michael had no mother. She died when he was quite young... before I knew him. He had no siblings; he was reared by his father, which is probably the reason I am alive today. By that, I mean he was raised to be a man. He was taught "The Code" of real men, which is: You do what you have to do. Though we both had the travel bug, my case was more pronounced than his. During the summer between our junior and senior years of high school, I took off and bounced around the country while Michael held down the fort, so to speak. When I returned to finish my last year of school (at that time I still bought into the myth that you needed at least a high school education to survive in the world), I regaled Michael with tales of my adventures. Well, after hearing what a wonderful world awaited us out there, Michael could not wait to hit the road. He wanted to leave immediately, but seeing as how I had just come in from a three - month run, I prevailed upon him to wait a few months and allow me to at least try to get my diploma. He said he would wait, but he did not, or he could not. Within six weeks of my return, Michael was on the road. Michael was hip, and the only place for a hip guy to migrate in 1968 was San Francisco. And that was the end of Michael's roaming. He fell in love with the city. I endured my senior year as long as I could, but two weeks short of graduation I said, "The hell with it!", stuck out my thumb and headed for San Francisco to rendezvous with my friend. This will tell you something about my friend Michael: He always had a place to live out there, and never paid rent. People were always asking him home, and once there, he just moved in. They were always glad to have him. And when I would hit town, he'd take me to wherever he was living and tell me to make myself at home. The person who actually owned the domicile never looked askance when he brought me through the door, they all loved Michael, and any friend of Michael's... For the most part, Michael stayed in San Francisco. I, however, could not stay in one town for more than a few days. I was like a pinball, rebounding from coast to coast, and from Canada to Mexico. While on the road I was alive. When on the road, I interacted with humanity and had to live by my wits. I loved being on the road. Because of Michael's reluctance to leave San Francisco, I had two homes, one on each coast. My mother's in Miami, and wherever the hell Michael was staying at the moment in San Francisco. On one of my forays to San Francisco, I was introduced to Linda, the love of Michael's life - his soul mate. They had met at a Clint Eastwood marathon. A movie house was playing the three Sergio Leone films. You know, A Fist Full of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly … non - stop, twenty - four hours a day. Michael had a bag of Red Acid, and in 1969, what girl wouldn't swoon toward a man who was into Clint Eastwood and had a bag of LSD? It was love at first sight. Now that Michael had himself a woman, he got his own digs. Every time I hit town they were living in a new place. It wasn't always easy to find them, but somehow we would always meet up on Haight Street. I stayed with them on Geary in the Tenderloin. We stayed south
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of Market in the low rent district, we stayed across from Golden Gate Park, and at the end, we were again in the Haight - Asbury district. One thing I must tell you about Michael so you can get a sense of the man. And yes, he was a man; though we were the same age, he was a man, while I was just a kid. I think Michael knew he did not have much time in this world. He could not wait for anything. Back then, we were doing acid all the time. Normally, you would swallow a pill and wait for it to take effect. But not Michael. The twenty minutes or so that it took was just too long for him. He had to shoot the acid into his vein to get off instantaneously. Of course Linda and I would have to follow suit or there would be no peace. And in those days, I just did not have it in me to stick myself with a needle. Michael did the honors. The last time I came into San Francisco and saw Michael and Linda was in 1970, it was July. They were living in the Haight. It was a crummy neighborhood; the Summer of Love was three years gone by then. All the shops on Haight Street were boarded up with sheets of plywood, and the denizens of the street were the leftovers from that long ago summer. True to form, it was not Michael's apartment he took me to; he and Linda were living with a guy named Bobby. Bobby was a likable enough fellow. He just didn't know bad men when he met them. Bobby had set up a "drug" deal to buy two pounds of marijuana. Nowadays it seems ridiculous to term buying two pounds of pot a drug deal, but in those days, that was heavy shit. It was my first night in town and we were sitting in Bobby's pad smoking a joint when Michael told me he was going to be a father. I looked over at Linda, she was radiant, and she was also blushing. I was just about to say something appropriate when the door crashed open, and two guys burst through the entrance. They were the assholes that Bobby was supposed to buy the pot from. Only one of them had a gun, but that was enough for us. When told to lie on the floor, we did so without protest. They then said to Bobby, "Where's the cash?" Bobby answered, "In my pocket." The guy covering us with the gun told the other guy to get the money. Bobby, trying to be helpful, reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Then it seemed like a lot of money, but now, as I look back on that night, it couldn't have been more than $500. 00. Before I could think of anything to do, Michael bounded to his feet and rushed the guy with the gun. When I saw Michael go into action, it released me from my paralysis, but not soon enough to help Michael. He took a bullet to the chest. While Michael was being shot, I picked up a lamp from a table and smashed it over the gunman's head while his partner stood frozen in place. The man with the gun went down hard and the gun fell from his hand. All this went down fast; in a blur, I did not have time to think. I picked up the gun from the floor while the other guy still stood frozen. Obviously they were not professionals, though, at the moment, that did not enter into my thinking. I aimed the gun at the one standing and shot him dead with two shots. Then I turned to the one on the floor. He was moving and about to get up when I put a bullet into his head. By the time the second one fell to the floor, Linda was bent over Michael. I dropped the gun and went to them. He looked at her and smiled, then he looked at me and said, "Get her out of here." We both, Linda and I, said at the same time, "No!" Then Michael died. It took me a full minute, which at the time felt like an eternity, to make a decision. I grabbed Linda by the arms and pulled her into a standing position. She was numb. I told her we had to get out of there; that this was a drug deal gone bad, and there were dead bodies - four of them! I told her prison was no place to have a baby, and Michael knew that. That is why he wanted her out of there. I told Linda to collect everything of hers and Michael's that could identify them. I had the presence of mind to wipe the gun clean, but not to pick up the cash lying on the floor. Linda could have used it; she had a baby on the way. I took Michael's wallet. He had never been arrested so I knew they couldn't identify him by his fingerprints. After I had Michael's wallet, and while Linda went about collecting her things, I took the time to vomit all over Bobby's
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