Category: Uncategorized

The Unquiet Land

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excerpt

Two doors opened off this part of the landing. One led to Caitlin’s room. The other had led to Nora’s room, but Nora was married now and had a home of her own in the village. Caitlin and Nora, night and day, his sisters in all but blood.
The priest turned sharply to the right and followed the landing alongside the stairwell to the front of the house. The old, brown wood of a large cupboard glowed in the lamplight. The door of the bedroom to the right of the cupboard stood half-open, and heavy, catarrhal breathing rasped in the dark interior.
Old Finn has feasted well and sleeps like a king, thought the tired priest. Better not disturb him.
The priest turned to the door of the bedroom to the left of the cupboard. His old room. The room in which he had lived as a boy, laboured over his books with the patient Caitlin, grew to be a man, a young, raw man, dedicated to God. Was the room the same as when he had left it? Yes, it would be. Nothing ever changed here. Tonight, or what was left of the night, he would sleep again in the old iron bed with the patchwork quilt. Nostalgic remembrance pierced the priest’s heart. The blood drained out into his belly and down into his loins. The hot blood chilled and made him shiver. The hair rose on the nape of his neck.
Seven years ago last September. Seven momentous years. Seven long strides from aspiring youth to zealous priest.
He turned the handle, and the door opened without a sound. He stepped inside, pushed the door shut behind him, and walked with silent tread across the polished wooden floor to the bed. He set the lamp down on the dresser.
“Caitlin,” he said in involuntary surprise.
She lay in a cloud of eiderdown. Gleaming even in the dark, her black hair trailed across the pillow, across the shoulder of her green-flowered nightgown. Her arm lay outside the shiny green covers. The priest leaned forward and touched the cool back of her hand. The body turned. The black cirrus stirred on the pillow.
Caitlin, the priest thought. My God, what a beautiful woman you are.
He had come unwittingly to the wrong room. Caitlin had given up her own old room and moved in here for some reason. Yet little beyond the bedclothes had changed from the way he remembered it. Caitlin had changed, though. She looked more mature and even more beautiful. Having seen her, he felt he had to talk to her.
“Caitlin,” he whispered.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763203

Savages and Beasts

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excerpt

“Oh, no,” she said and covered her mouth with her free hand.
Anton pulled her close to his body and held her tightly
when at that moment the laundry door was opened and Sister
Gladys made her appearance saying,
“Oh my, oh my…what have we here, lovebirds?”
Anton let go of Mary who pulled a little away, “it’s not
what it looks, we were talking of Mr. Kelly,” Mary said to Gladys.
“Oh, don’t mind me, sweet Mary and you Mr. Jonas, your
secret, or whatever it is you two have, is safe with me…only,” she
left her phrase unfinished.
“What do you mean, Sister Gladys?” Mary asked.
“Only one thing for you, sweet secretary…shut your door
from now on don’t let anyone come in…not anyone, ok?”
Mary lowered her head as Anton looked at her, dumbfounded,
and though without her saying it a whisper came out of
her lips, “I never invited anyone, nor have I ever provoked anyone.”
“You could be stronger,” Sister Gladys insisted.
“I know,” Mary admitted and her head was lowered even
more than before.
“Okay then, what of Mr. Kelly? What should I report to
Father Jerome?”
Anton told her in a few sentences the news about Dylan
after which Sister Gladys left them. Mary still stood away from
Anton with her lowered head and tears coming down her eyes.
Anton neared her, took her hand again, raised her head with his
other hand and kissed her lips softly.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be concerned, let it be, Mary, let
it be,” he whispered and hugged her tightly. Time passed like a
flood of sunlight flashing on them, light was there, at the end of
the tunnel Mary and Anton had passed, and now they were out
in the open, out in the beautiful summer August day.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602

Jazz with Ella

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excerpt

That idea began to grow within him. He wanted to try being Montreal Paul. Maybe it wasn’t too late. In Canada, he could also study Russian, he thought. By that time it was 1963—the Berlin Wall had been constructed two years earlier, and the fear of Communists had driven many Russian speakers to deny their heritage. Yvonne’s home, on the other hand, had become a safe haven for Russian emigres, a place where they could speak freely, down brandy, and discourse on Russian art without being accused of being bolsheviks.
“Surely this is the time to be learning the language of our enemies—not being afraid of it,” he announced to Yvonne, with the earnestness of a 17-year-old. Although he truly believed his own words, he was also restless. He wanted to get out on his own and see Canada again so he kept at this theme as a possible reason for why he must attend university there. It worked. Yvonne had put aside a trust fund for his university studies, and she turned it over to him on his eighteenth birthday. At the same time she also told him that she would leave the bulk of her estate to him on her death.
He was selected for the University of Vancouver, on the west coast of Canada, far from Montreal but not so much of a culture shock for a kid raised in California. For seven years, he lived in Vancouver and was convinced that the Russian language department was all he wanted. He was torn from his academic shell by the news that grandmother Yvonne had died suddenly of a heart attack. At age 75, she had taken a new young lover who, it was whispered at the memorial service, had exhausted her. The gossip was malicious, Paul thought, but if only half of it were true, he couldn’t help but admire Yvonne’s love of life and her ability to take emotional risks even into her seventies.
Why couldn’t he find a woman who exhausted him? Most of the women he met were not serious students so there was no meaningful conversation. They knew how to have a good time, kind of like the old days at Shakey’s Pizza, and he badly wanted to bed one of them—it didn’t matter which one—but it seemed dishonest because he knew it was purely to alleviate his own carnal desires.
Now, on this warm summer evening in the heart of the Soviet Union, some latent urge was manifesting itself. Unscholarly thoughts filled his mind: ice cold beer in the university pub, a woman’s browned skin in a white summer top. Sensual things, hands-on things. Music moved him.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

The Incidentals

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Pungent Emotions
Autumnal smells full of pungent
emotions, sweat on the cloth seat
twelve hours a day driving along
narrow laneways, wide congested
streets and during the full moon
vaguely seen by eyes unfamiliar
to bright sunshine when he drives
customer to the airport, a good run
the taxi driver ponders on today’s
take, a slow shift, perhaps in the afternoon
when the offices close he might
get a little boost, needs to go over
one hundred dollars to call it a fair
day’s earnings, enough for his tight
budget; the customer in the back seat smokes
an aromatic cigarette, he asks the name
of the cigarettes, the customer offers him
one which he takes brings to his nose,
yes, aromatic indeed, a jasmine scent,
special cigarette shop in Gastown carries
such delights, his customer says, taxi driver
chooses to light his special smoke after
his supper a smile appearing on his face,
the world can be beautiful even when
one drives a cab for a half-decent living.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763637

Twelve Narratives of the Gypsy

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And thus I, the smiling anchorite,
the destroyer who blasphemes
in the sulfuric heat of our lands,
feel the freshness of belief inside
of me and I dreamed of living
among them though even them
cried out: go gypsy, go.
Let them exile me. I revere them
I the speaker of beautiful truth
none of the demagogue revenge
guides me and for this I stand
before you so you can hear me
chiming my slow, funereal bell.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D3LP7NW6

Red in Black

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Deliverance
Diaphanous or foggy
because of your angst
your eyes were overflowing
with your emotional upheaval
as you put on your nightgown
and walked out
to the fresh daybreak
justification for
your night-long ambivalence
between your wish for divine inspiration
and your deliverance
from earthly eroticism

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1771713208

Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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excerpt

to the tiny chapel and monks’ refectory above the monastery ruins. Finten, with
the girth but not the disposition of a jolly monk, puffed and panted to keep up
with the abbot.
Shortly after sunrise, Father Finten hurried down to the beach, his tan cassock of
sheep’s wool blowing above his knees. A shock of unruly reddish-yellow hair blew
from behind the stubble of his shaved St. John’s tonsure, and his scraggly beard
groped about his face like strands of frayed hemp.
Unless I can get these dawdling Brothers out to sea before ebb tide, we’ll spend
another day and night on this rock-strewn island. Father Finten cupped his mouth
to shout above the wind. “Brothers, Brothers. Hurry. We must be away.”
Brother Lorcan, a midget of a lad, stood high on the cliff as a lookout above the
harbour. Gazing out to sea, he seemed not to hear.
Come on, Brother Lorcan. Dear Lord, can he not hear me? … Ring the bell. Lord.
No. We must go silently. Father Finten mumbled under his breath. Finten was twenty-
six, much younger than many priests of the order, but older than the teenaged
Brothers he travelled with.
A shrieking pair of gulls swooped down to squabble over a dead crab at the water
line. More gulls arrived and soon there was a battle royal.
Finten covered his ears. Screams of terror from a terrible time seized his mind.
Twenty years earlier, his mother and three older sisters had been torn apart by Viking
monsters. He had crawled beneath a pile of kitchen rags, afraid to breathe. When he
peeked out at the blood spattered walls, his baby sister Ossia ‘Little Deer’ hung over
the shoulder of a Norseman. Finten’s elder brother Senan rushed in to tackle six
huge men. As Senan was brutally knocked out, a hairy hand seized Finten by the hair
and pulled him from his hiding place.
Brother Ailan, the cook, trying to carry too much at once, pulled Finten back to
the present. The bucket Ailan dropped splashed water onto the path as it rolled several
yards to crash against a large rock. Father Finten shook his head and muttered
through tears “Clumsy oaf”.
Finten still felt the whips, hunger, and pain. In his mind, he saw Senan, chained to
a bench and pulling on the big oar, while he, far too young to row, carried the water
bucket from slave to slave. The filled pail was heavy. Water slopped over the edge.
From somewhere above he felt a slap and a kick, then more slaps, kicks, and laughter,
as the pail slipped from his grasp and rattled, empty, down the sloping deck.
A young Brother hurried down the path carrying sleeping gear and a basket of
fresh-baked bread. He stopped and balanced his load to pick up the empty water
bucket, which he handed to the smiling Brother Ailan. “Are you not awake yet,
Brother? Did you not have a good night?”
“Thank you, Brother Rordan. I slept.”
Finten remembered the countless terrible nights when he learned to dread the
dark. Norsemen did unspeakable things to boy slaves in the dark.
Brother Rordan paused as he passed the troubled priest. “Are you all right, Father?”
“Thank you, Brother. Get on with you now.”
Finten’s rebellious brother, Senan, had been torn from him and sold to Danelaw
pig farmers.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763106

Water in the Wilderness

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excerpt

“He’s making a snowman with Ronald and Freddy out back,” Rachael said. “I wanted to go outside, too, but I have work to do.”
Tyne frowned. “What kind of work?”
Rachael started to answer but Lyssa interrupted in a loud voice. “Nothing much, she’s just sayin’ that. Mom gets her to tidy the kitchen, and she thinks she’s working hard.”
For a moment Rachael stared at her cousin, then she turned away. “Goodbye, Aunt … Mrs. Cresswell. Thanks for bringing the presents.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Tyne said hasty goodbyes to the two Harrison girls, then hurried outside before they could see her tears. Wiping her eyes on a tissue, she picked her way through the snow to the backyard where she could hear excited young voices and peals of laughter. At the corner of the house she stopped and watched. Bobby was rolling a ball of snow along the ground as it grew larger, while Ronald and Freddy lifted another ball onto the rounded base of the proposed snowman.
“Whoa, stop Bobby,” Ronald called, “or his head will be bigger than his bottom.”
Bobby stopped rolling, plopped himself down in the snow and giggled. “That’s funny, Ronnie. Nobody has a bigger head than a bottom.”
Ronnie laughed. “You would if I rolled your head in the snow.”
Bobby giggled again, obviously enjoying his cousin’s teasing. But when Tyne stepped forward out of the shadows, his laughter stopped abruptly and he scrambled to his feet. “Auntie Tyne,” he squealed, launching himself at her.
She caught him in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground. “Bobby, honey, how are you? It’s so good to see you.”
He wiggled out of her arms far enough to look into her face. “Have you come to take me home? Is Uncle Morley here? Can we go see the animals now?”
With a tug at her heart Tyne realized that by home he meant the farm, not his father’s house in town. How could she say no and watch the smile disappear from that sweet face?
“Bobby,” she said gently, lowering him to the ground…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/192676319X

Unfulfilled

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Jump Rows

One line to another said:
My future is with you
As long as not together – yet
The future’s nothing new
Turns out that they were parallels
The same way that time flows
Like space, like us… whatever else
Like life’s theatre rows
We need a glitch, we need a turn
We need to meet right now
Get to another universe,
Jump rows… I don’t know how

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763688

Swamped

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excerpt

and as the time approached for the bell to announce the end of trading,
he called Rebecca Horton and suggested they meet at Da Carlo’s,
to which she agreed.
When they met Rebecca in the lounge of the restaurant, Eteo
hugged her. Her body, firm and willing, excited him, and he remembered
when Rebecca had told him about travelling to Crete the summer
after her graduation and the great time she had had there with
the Cretan lover she had met there and would never forget. Eteo had
joked at the time that Cretan men knew how to make a woman happy
and since then they had developed a relationship, a strange one since
Rebecca was a married woman now, but her desire for a Cretan man
had remained in her mind and Eteo was the only Cretan man around.
at was their secret pact, and whenever the opportunity came along,
they enjoyed each other in the fullest of ways.
She was hot today, with an obvious fire burning in her eyes, a
flaming, dark red lipstick and a body that moved next to Eteo in an
outrightly sensual way. As they talked, he couldn’t take his mind away
from the desire to have her today. They sat close to each other and
ordered a drink, but business had to take priority.
“Talk to me” Rebecca said.
“I have a small group I can use to raise a couple of hundred thousand
dollars,” Eteo replied, “and I have a good property from George
Beaton. He assures me it will go through very easily.”
“So you want to put together a new shell company.”
“Yes, and I have the directors. You know my people.”
Rebecca frowned at this.
“You think I shouldn’t use my regulars?” Eteo asked her.
“Well, investors keep an eye on who’s in there, and they tend to
dislike the same people as directors, especially when they aren’t as
qualified. Remember the article that came out lately?”
Rebecca had a valid point. Eteo remembered the article very well.
It was by a well-known VSE critic, George Gains, and had appeared
prominently in the business section of the Vancouver Sun. Gains was
famous for reporting everything and anything he could learn about
the low-lives that run around law firms and brokerages hatching
shady deals.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WP3LMPX