Tag: Fiction

Arrows

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Excerpt

Despite it all, I felt gratified to be useful. Rats were a frequent
nuisance on ships; they woke us up at night, walked on us, dug their
teeth into our flesh. Many sacks had holes, and in some the rats were
still feeding. What to do? Benjamin was wiggling a stick in his hand.
He snuffled repeatedly while throwing me a similar weapon.
We took the hideous fruits of our slaughter to the upper deck,
spilling them overboard. The bodies of the rats floated on the surface
until two small sharks appeared and devoured them.
“Do what’s bad and expect it back,” Benjamin said, waving an
accusatory finger at the rats. I couldn’t tell whether he was joking.
Normally he was laughing. His eyes turned into a glittering line
whenever he laughed—but for several hours he had seemed almost
despondent.
“Something bothering you, my friend?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve been from here to there and back all my life,
not knowing where night would find me. I thought life at sea would
be better, but . . . I should never have come.”
Our work together below decks had brought us together. This
was a different sort of confessional than I was accustomed to
hearing. I felt the solution was not necessarily in God’s hands.
“Why don’t you come with me to join the expedition? I’m sure
they will need a strong man like you.”
He looked up, eyes brighter, then his shoulders slumped again.
“I’ve signed on for five years with the captain,” Benjamin said. “I
have to stay.”
“You leave that one to me,” I said. And so devised a simple plan,
knowing I would soon be losing my brother’s companionship.
Although I felt I did not need my older brother as a protector, I knew
Bartolomé liked to feel he was necessary to me in that way.
Therefore, if Benjamin went to Bartolomé and volunteered to act as
my guardian in the New World, my brother might allow Benjamin
to leave the ship to accompany me, for my benefit…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Jazz with Ella

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Excerpt

The tour wound up at the fairground’s major landmark—an impressive communications tower. Natasha launched into her set speech. Several of the group yawned.
“Excuse me, Natasha,” interrupted Ted. “In Toronto, we’re just now building a free-standing tower like this one—for telecommunications. It’ll be the tallest in the world.” He beamed proudly, removing his baseball cap and flicking one hand through his curly hair.
For a split second Natasha’s face twisted in rage. Colour rushed to her cheeks and she drew up her chin.
My god, I think she’s going to explode, thought Jennifer. Several of the students backed away hurriedly.
“How many metres?” Natasha snapped.
“Oh, well, I’m not sure…”
“Ah.” Recovering, Natasha smiled triumphantly. “But this one has a restaurant at the top…that revolves.” Ted smiled and shut his mouth.
“I thought she’d lost it that time,” Paul muttered to Jennifer. “Have you noticed how touchy the Soviets are when you criticize—or even make a suggestion that anything could be wrong in their country?”
“Yeah, they’re pretty defensive.”
“I’m too tired to take in any more,” Paul continued. “Let’s zap over to that ice cream stand and sit on the grass for a while.” The two slipped away and were not surprised to see Lona and David following them.
“Whoo,” David shuddered, sprawling beside the others to suck on a strawberry cone. “You have to have the constitution of a bear to see this country right.”
“I hear we’re going to visit an elementary school tomorrow,” said Lona. “I think I’ll pass and go to the Trediakovsky Art Gallery instead. I must see the Rublev icons.” She rearranged her cream linen suit and settled gingerly on the grass.
“I’d like to meet the children,” Jennifer said mildly, dusting off her faded blue jeans. She was aware that she was supposed to be supervising this unruly crowd, but she was torn. In her opinion they were over-supervised between Natasha’s military command and Chopyk’s academic requirements. Fortunately, this morning the professor had dashed off on his own errand, putting her in charge. Surely the students could be allowed to explore at their own pace? That’s what immersion in a country was all about, wasn’t it?

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

Swamped

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excerpt

these images oen came to his mind when he walked
the seawall along the Dundarave to 22nd Street. When he reached
the dock, he would go to the end, lean over the wooden structure,
and gaze at the sea bottom, at the sea life around the big wooden piles
full of barnacles, on which the small fish fed, at the crabs visible from
above where he stood. He remembered all the times he and his
brother would chase and try to outsmart the small crabs on the rocks
of his homeland, and how they would get soaked by the waves crashing
against the same rocks where they hunted the crabs and sea snails
their mother could turn into tasty meals that he devoured eagerly
every single time.
The sea’s familiar aroma filled his lungs. He looked around at all
the people standing and admiring the skyline of the University of
British Columbia across the bay or gazing out at the open sea toward
Vancouver Island, which was clearly visible in today’s sunshine. His
ears picked out a strongly accented voice behind him saying something
about the size of the university campus across the water and
the number of students that went there, and then a similar voice answering
him. The people talking were Iranians. He knew the accent.
Having an accent himself, he had learned to discern the accents of
others during his twenty years in Canada. He leaned over the wood
fence again and looked down into the water. It had a fascination that
attracted his eyes every time. He couldn’t imagine himself living in
the interior, in a place far from the sea. The restless, changeable sea
with its serene, glassy surface or its rough waves when the winds ran
amok. It was too important to him.
Eteocles Armenakis from Crete, had worked for a while for CP
Rail when he first came to Canada. The other yard men, his co-workers,
couldn’t handle the name Eteocles, so they had renamed him
Eteo. This prompted Eteocles to file for an official name change, and
he became Eteo Armen, simplifying both his first and last names.
Eteo raised his body up from the edge of the dock and felt the
tears filling his eyes. The images of those early days would remain
forever in his memory. They would always bring tears to his eyes. He
started walking back toward Ambleside Park.
His phone rang. It was Herbert.

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

Still Waters

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Excerpt

Carol Ann tossed her head. “I can’t think of anything better.”
Tyne grinned and glanced at her watch. “Hey look, gang, it’s getting
on to dinner time. I’d like to go have a peek at the roster before
we eat. So hurry up and change, then we can get to the cafeteria before
the rush. I’m starved.”
A few minutes later, as they hurried along the corridor, Tyne said,
“Did either of you see the menu board? What’s for dinner?”
“It’s Sunday. Need you ask?”
“Oh no, not beef stroganoff on my first day back?”
Moe poked her in the ribs. “No, sorry to disappoint you, kiddo.
Not beef stroganoff. That’s just their fancy name for it. It’s plain old
beef stew.”
Tyne groaned. The house mother, having overheard their comments,
looked up and scowled as they passed her desk.
As they spilled out the door onto the street, Tyne murmured under
her breath, “Oh, Mom, I sure miss you now.” 
Tyne stood at the nursing station on St. Francis and listened intently
as Sister Mary Louise assigned the graduates and student nurses
their duties for the day. Six of them gathered around the desk, two of
them third-year students. Joan Farr from the September class looked
nervous. She had just attained her third-year status, and probably
did not feel quite ready for the private patients on St. Francis, many
of whom were professional people, two of them doctors.
Tyne remembered Moe’s words as the three roomies ate breakfast
in the dining hall that morning. “It doesn’t matter how much money
they have, Tyne. Just remember that in bed with nothing on but a
skimpy nightshirt, they’re just the same as you and me.”
Tyne repeated the words to herself as she made her way down the
corridor with a tray of medications.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763068

He Rode Tall

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Excerpt

Joel wasn’t sure what it was, but somehow he had connected
with the peace and tranquility of the land. He was wondering
if there wasn’t some way he could make a go of the Circle
H. Joel knew that he had lost his soul a lot of years ago, but now,
maybe just maybe, he had found his soul in the hills.
“So who is this Smith character?” inquired Joel.
“Big rancher. Moved in about ten years ago and hasn’t stopped
buying since. Must control almost the entire county. Between
what he has already put his hands on and what he has tied up in
first right of refusals he pretty well owns Sweetwater Country.
They say he runs over 5,000 head.”
Even Joel knew that 5,000 head was a lot of anything let alone
cows. Anyone who has enough land to feed that many cattle
would be just about as close to a king as you could get in this dry
country.
By now, Harry had run out of chores to do and things to tinker
with so he slowly turned to face Joel. It was then that Joel clearly
saw the withered, weather-stained face of the man he was speaking
with. Joel couldn’t help but think that Harry’s head was too
big for the size of his body. His tiny frame carried maybe 140
pounds, none of it fat. With a thirty-inch waist, this ranch hand
of fifty or sixty, or was it seventy, years appeared to be in excellent
condition. His face featured a big nose, ears the size of tea saucers,
and an abundance of thick black hair. And his hands. His
hands were those of a worker and his big head seemed out of proportion
to the size of his lithe body.
“Lives over there,” offered Harry.
“Over where?” asked Joel, almost forgetting who it was that
they were talking about.
“The Buck Smith Ranch Corporation Headquarters are just
over those hills. Maybe a mile across.”
“Then we are neighbours.”
“Might say that. A mile across the hills but must be ten miles
around on the roads. Don’t see much of them over here. Just
their cows all over the hills.”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897955

Arrows

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Excerpt

I gripped the lifelines, my habit soaked and
pasted to my body. He shook his head and curled his mouth as he
placed his bare feet on the steps.
Bartolomé glared when I came up to the quarterdeck. He and the
helmsman were fighting with the long tiller to steer the Isabella who
was surfing a wave downwind with increasing speed. He was too
busy to pay me attention.
I could see he was thinking hard, for he had seen men break their
bones when propelled by the long tiller as the waves jerked the
rudder.
The pilot concentrated on the movements of the needle in the
compass set in a wooden box fixed onto the binnacle. A sailor tried
to record the time and course while another minded the sandglass.
Every man there had a duty to perform; all others were tucked away
in the relative safety of the ship’s innards. Bartolomé chewed his
inner cheek, as he always did when considering his options.
The visibility was nil, no other ships were in sight. Every vessel
was on its own now, each full of men fighting for their lives and
praying, the galleons surely better off than the Isabella. They didn’t
have the wretched high castles fore and aft, taking all the wind and
making the vessel ungovernable.
Bartolomé growled, covering his eyes with one hand and
lowering his head without releasing his grip on the tiller. I saw his
lips move silently amid the roar of wind and sea. He could attune his
senses to the mood of the wind, feeling it on his nape, sniffing it out
of the air, hearing it on the sails and rigging.
Bartolomé knew I was adamant about staying on deck; nothing
short of an angel or God’s thunderous voice would send me down.
He aimed a sullen glare in my direction and yelled to the sailor
minding the sandglass to pass me a coil of line. I caught it in the air
and fumbled, keeping an eye out for waves until I found the end of
it. Bartolomé motioned me to bring it around my waist. I managed a
knot above my Franciscan cord and tied myself to the rail as the
others were to the binnacle, but he sighed, nodded to the pilot, let go
of the tiller and came to tie the knot to his liking.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Swamped

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Excerpt

“Let’s go Susan, I’m hungry,” he said, taking her by the hand. They
walked past Logan and Helena into the hallway. Alone with Susan in
the elevator, he rewarded her expectations with a kiss, to which she
responded as eagerly as he had hoped. They said nothing until they
reached the ground floor and crossed the street to Da Carlo’s, an Italian
eatery and one of the best spots for lunch in downtown Vancouver.
The place was already packed, but he was known to the manager,
who escorted them straight to a table. When they had settled down,
he gazed wordlessly at Susan. Her brown eyes were brighter now than
earlier, even in the dim light of the restaurant.
“You look beautiful today, Susan,” he said, taking her hand in his.
“Thank you.” Her answer echoed so loudly in his ears.
He called the server, and they each ordered a pasta dish with
chicken. He suggested half a litre of red wine to go with the pasta and
tomato sauce. Susan agreed and added with a smile, “You plan to get
me drunk?”
“You want me to, sweet Susan?” he answered with a question.
She enjoyed being with this man. Since they had met and gone
out a few times, she had gotten used to drinking wine. Canadian born
and raised, Susan had grown up with beer and pubs rather than
restaurants and wine, but he had had an effect on her in that department
and Susan now appreciated the European ways he had kept
after all his years in Canada. He still spoke with an accent, and Susan
sometimes had trouble following everything he said. But other than
that, she loved his ways and in particular his romantic touch, often
expressed unexpectedly on the spur of the moment. She felt very attracted
to him and didn’t shy away from showing her affection. He
felt the same way. She had sensed this as soon as they started dating.
His only concern was what other people in the company might say.
He extended his arm to the middle of their table, where a few
seasonal flowers were placed in a small vase. He took a rosebud and
gave it to her.

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

The Circle

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Excerpt

“How about we meet at Starbucks by Westport Mall?”
She’s ready to agree, but suddenly hears herself asking, “Why don’t you come
over and we can have coffee here?”
Who said these words? Why were these words said? What is Emily’s purpose
this rainy morning in September? Perhaps the hope and knowledge that there is
always sun behind the clouds? But, of course, this is why she invites him to her
house. Talal’s mind runs to their sweet exchange in the restaurant, and he smiles
as he says, “That’s a better idea. I’ll be there, shortly.”
“Do you know where I live?” she asks, surprised.
“Of course, I do. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
She’s very excited now. Her mind won’t let her relax. Anticipation turns like a
sweet song in her mind, and on her lips she has a thirst for his, like the song of the
poplar to the sunlight sieved amid its leaves. She stands still, holding the receiver,
overtaken by excitement. She realizes she’s still wearing her robe. She definitely feels
aroused, her sexual hunger captivates her once more. Matthew is coming home
tonight. If he didn’t work so hard, so long, if he wasn’t so far away for so long. She
desperately tries to find a justification for all the thoughts of wild sex she’s dreaming
of with this young Iraqi man, because Emily Roberts knows very well what is going
to happen in her house very soon. It’s inevitable, it’s desired, it’s anticipated, it’s
something she has thought of so many times—the young Iraqi man with the
charming accent, with the lovely smile, and all this sadness in his dark eyes.
She runs upstairs, undresses, and steps into the shower. She puts on her
jogging pants and light sweatshirt. Now she is ready, but for what? What’s she
getting ready for? Perhaps, they’ll have coffee and that’ll be it.
He’s there within ten minutes and rings her doorbell, making her heart race
like it wants to leave her chest and fly to the clouds, where her mind has been for
the last few minutes. She opens the door and he stands before her with his
enchanting smile.
“Hi, Emily.”
“Hello, Talal, come in,” she says, softly, and as soon as he steps into her foyer,
their lips lock in a passionate kiss, Emily exploring his mouth and Talal
exploring the fine lines and contours of her body. Before they know what’s
happening, they are by the couch and they have no clothes on. She guides him to
the floor and gets on top of him, while Talal enjoys the view of her breasts
bouncing as though singing a heavenly song that only the nymphs of the forest
know; those nymphs who have come into her living room and guide Emily to the
zenith of her eroticism and to her fantastic orgasm. Her face shows such
satisfaction, and the softness of such a completion ends with her soft relaxing
moan, a moan that could rise the dead from their graves.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186524

Jazz with Ella

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Excerpt

Jennifer suddenly realized she was the hostess. “Listen, let me order some drinks or coffee. Tell me about yourselves. Do you live here in Moscow?” She moved to the phone then realized that room service might be a foreign concept in the Soviet Union.
“No need,” said Misha, pulling two tall bottles of fizzy water from his satchel. “We cannot stay very long and we have brought some drinks. May I pour?”
“Yes, please.” She picked up the two cups that sat beside a metal teapot on a corner table, and Misha poured and passed the drinks to his wife and Jennifer. He took a swig from the bottle.
“We live in Tula,” Marta said. “It’s about 60 miles south of Moscow. You know about it?” Jennifer shook her head. “The traditional samovar town—we make the finest samovars for all of the Soviet Union there. It’s also close to Tolstoy’s estate, Yasnaya Polyana. You are a language student, correct? Surely you will be visiting the home of such a great author?”
Misha cut in, “You must come to visit us. Tula is 100 kilometers east of the village where my father and your mother were born.”
“Yes, I’d like that,” Jennifer replied. She had so many questions. “When my mother got to England and met my father it was the start of a whole new life. She wouldn’t have known that her brother was still alive. Did he go back to the village after the war?”
“Only to find everyone gone: father and mother dead, sisters missing,” Misha replied. He fell quiet for a few seconds. “He said it was the saddest moment of his life.”
Misha continued to describe their family background, Marta chipping in occasionally and smiling fondly at Jennifer. Even little Nadya left her magazine and put her arms around Jennifer’s neck, calling her “auntie.”
I could grow quite fond of these people, Jennifer thought.
“We have applied to leave the country,” Misha told her. “As you know, Jews are allowed to leave—some of them. We will go to Israel.” He looked about uncomfortably. “But perhaps it’s best not to speak of these things here.” He nodded at the wall indicating a grating with a tilt of his head. Of course, microphones. They had been told that the hidden spying devices were in all the hotels that catered to foreign tourists.

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

Swamped

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Excerpt

known how to handle the new reality at first, but he was a fast learner,
and he had stayed afloat despite all the rough spots along the way.
Like the night Logan had come home late with a bunch of his high
school friends and while his father, brother, and cousin were asleep,
one of those friends had stolen all his credit cards. Luckily, he had
found out the next day when the credit card company called inquiring
about some unusual purchases.
Yes, there had been a few rough spots, but he had faced up to
them. He had stood tall and made things work. Logan was doing well
in the office as a junior stockbroker, and he had already made plans
for Alexander after he graduated in a couple of years. As for Jonathan,
he was due to graduate soon with a first-class degree and a bright future
awaiting him back in Greece.
His attention was caught by the green leaves of the gardenia plant
in the office. A flower had bloomed and the fragrance filled the room.
He got up and walked over to the pot, leaned in a little, and savored
the aroma. He remembered how his mother had always kept a couple
of gardenia plants in the house. Back then they used to plant them
in rectangular metal containers; it was said the metal was good for
the plant, especially after the container had rusted due to the watering.
He touched the soil and noticed that it was dry. He called Helena
in from the outside office where her desk and Logan’s were located.
“It feels dry, Helena” he said, pointing to the plant.
“I’ll take care of it,” Helena said and went to get water.
Helena Poulos was the daughter of a Greek family that he didn’t
know personally but of whom he had heard. Her family was in the
food business, with two restaurants, one in North Vancouver and one
in Kitsilano, but Helena hadn’t been interested in that, and when the
opportunity arrived to work for a stockbroker downtown, she had
jumped at the chance. He had been very happy with her work ethic
and commitment, and she had also brought all her family members
and a few friends in as new clients.
The rest of the morning flowed uneventfully, but when the time
came for lunch, his mind ran to Susan. He dialed her internal number.
“Want to go a catch a bite?” he asked her.

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