Tag: life

Water in the Wilderness

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Excerpt

“You shouldn’t have bothered, Moe. I could get a bite at the hospital, you know.”
“It’s no bother. And you need something home cooked after that hospital food you’ve been surviving on. The meals aren’t any better than they were when we were students.”
It was only after Tyne had eaten that Moe, sitting at the table with her, said lightly, “Aunt Millie called a little while ago. No, it’s all right. And I didn’t tell you earlier because I knew you’d go rushing off without breakfast if I did.”
Tyne sat forward, her heart in her throat, ready to bolt from her chair. “What is it? Why did Auntie call?”
Moe smiled. “Morley is awake and asking for you.”
Tyne let her breath out on a deep sigh, sat back and covered her face with her hands. “Thank you, God, thank you,” she whispered, then shot out of her chair and ran to get her coat. Moe was right behind her, car keys in hand.
Rachael didn’t think she would like riding in a bus. Not a bus this big, anyway. As the huge vehicle, with the long skinny greyhound painted on its side, drew to a stop in the bay behind the Emblem bus depot, she shuddered and moved closer to Mrs. Milligan. A man in a sort of uniform was standing beside the open door, taking tickets from people, punching holes in them, then handing them back. When it came their turn in line, he did the same with the tickets Mrs. Milligan handed him.
The man looked down at Rachael. “Hello there, little lady. Where are you going today?”
Rachael thought he must already know that, but he was trying to be nice to her so she said quietly, “We’re going to Calgary.”
“It’s her first bus ride,” Mrs. Milligan informed him.
“Is it? Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Be sure to sit beside a window so you can see everything. And look for the herd of deer on the right hand side; they’re usually grazing in the field there.” He held out his hand to the person behind them as Mrs. Milligan guided Rachael up the steps, and led the way along the aisle to seats half way back.

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The Circle

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Excerpt

HAKIM IS UP VERY EARLY this Wednesday morning, and following his half
hour of meditation, sits at his workstation to communicate with his uncle. It’s
about seven in the evening in Baghdad, and someone must be at home; he hasn’t
heard from them in the last couple of days and is concerned. They must have
some news by now; the tests were to be done a few days ago.
“Hello there, my uncle, how are you?”
“Hello Hakim.” Rassan answers.
“Hi, Rassan; where is everybody?”
“Mara is at the hospital with Ibrahim; she stays overnight to keep him
company. They had tests done yesterday and today; it doesn’t look good.”
“Tell me, what were the test results?”
“They did a couple of scans and detected two small tumors—a tiny one in his
liver and a bigger one in his pancreas. They are to do biopsies tomorrow and then
we’ll have answers.”
“How is he? Is he in pain?”
“Well, in the hospital he is not in pain as they have him on painkillers; I don’t
know how he will feel when he gets home, if they allow him to come home.”
“Is he that bad that you think he may not come home soon?”
“I don’t know Hakim, I’m not the doctor. We’ll see; what I know is when he
was here the last few days he was in pain constantly.”
“Thanks Rassan, I’ll reach you again tomorrow about the same time. Make
sure you are around to give me an update of how things are. If need be, I may
come over for a few days to keep Mara company.”
“She’s going to be very happy to see you, I’m sure.”
“Say hello to both of them, and pass on a message to my uncle from his friend
Bevan, who sends his regards.”
He turns the computer off and puts on a robe; Jennifer is still asleep in the
bedroom.He walks to the balcony and looks at the weather in Los Angeles; clouds
cover the sky, in the same way that they cover his heart with this latest news. The
temperature is around 15 degrees; a pleasant temperature for the time of the year.
He has to go to the office and check on things; the business has been going a bit
better the last couple of weeks and Peter Bradshaw is very excited about a new…

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HEAR ME OUT

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The Lost 1%
Finally you turned me into yourself, my love!
Or perhaps I’ve been this way all along unable to answer the same way when they tell me “I love you”. Unable to say, “me too…”, or “I also love you.”
The phrase almost reaches my lips but is not stated.
To observe other men with that sad and full of agony glance, the one I noticed in your eyes for a long time, and not being able to answer.
Now I can understand what you felt.
I feel the same way.
Now, I know what it means for the other person to expect something from your lips and you unable to utter a word.
And it is not that you don’t love the person, it’s not that you don’t care for them.
The opposite, you care and you hurt more so. But that 1 % that is missing, that you miss and without it the word isn’t said.
That 1 % you know you won’t ever find.
That, as if you came faulty out of the factory and you miss something, what you’ll never acquire and as a result you’ll never be able to give it to anyone.
And you’ll remain like Sisyphus to go up and down the mountain with the weight of love on your back, forever searching to unload it and to offer it somewhere.
70
But there will never be anyone to lighten up your load no one will ever walk along with you up the mountain and no one will ever give you a hand just to stop you from slipping down the slope.
Because simply you can’t grasp onto anybody’s hand you can’t grasp onto anything.

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The Circle

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Excerpt

…back for a while; his thoughts travel to his good, old friend in Baghdad. Ibrahim has
done well with this young man; he has brought him up the right way. It’s no wonder
the old man is so proud of Hakim. It’s no wonder that he sees him as a real son; he
even calls him his son. He gets the check and goes out to find a taxi to take him to the
Sheraton. The rest of this weekend is going to be smooth and pleasant for Bevan
Longhorn.He may even sleep in peace tonight since he knows everything is coming
together nicely for his exit strategy. His plan is unfolding like clear spring water
running slowly down to freshen up the roots of the delicate vegetables and flowers.

Monday has gone by slowly but steadily, as if time learned to go by unnoticed,
like a well-tuned machine with gears grasping everyone in between them,
stretching and pulling to the point of being ready to snap. Hakim and Jennifer
spent their Monday getting ready for their move. She took the day off and did the
packing of things one does last; Hakim also stayed home and together they organized
the details of the actual move. Today, Talal has come to help them. He’s the
one who’ll get the rental truck. Emily is there as well, doing what is necessary to
help Jennifer with the kitchen items, since men do not always do things the best
way in a woman’s eyes when it comes to the kitchen.
Ahmed has gone with Talal to get the truck.
“I’ll get the stuff tomorrow,” Ahmed says.
“You got it, already?” asks Hakim.
“No but it’s ready; it’s just a matter of going for it.”
“Alright, now be careful. Who are these guys?”
“Leave that to me. Don’t worry about who they are or why they are doing
this; leave that to me.”
They get the truck and Talal drives it back to Hakim’s apartment. They start
putting things in one by one and Jennifer and Emily tell them where to position
them in the truck. It takes about an hour and they are ready to go to Emily’s for
the rest of the things. Once they finish there, they drive to the new place and
move everything upstairs. One elevator has been reserved for them and that
makes work a lot easier. By two in the afternoon, they are done; the only thing
left to do is to put together the bed and put away the kitchen things, while Talal
and Ahmed return the truck to the rental company.
When all that is done and Talal comes back with Ahmed, Hakim orders a
couple of pizzas and they sit around and enjoy the food. The weather had given
them a break with sunny periods throughout the day, and while it’s late in the
afternoon, there is still plenty of brightness, and one can see the beauty of the
view to the west toward the Pacific Ocean.

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The Circle

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Excerpt

Bevan Longhorn dresses in casual clothes and goes down to the lobby of the
Sheraton Hotel. It’s Sunday morning and the lobby is filled with people coming
and going. Bevan has stayed here before, and this time, although he has only
been here for one night, intends to make the best of it. He has arranged his
departure for the evening with American Airlines and is to arrive in Washington
sometime before midnight, giving him enough time to relax and get to his office
Monday morning. On the other hand, if he feels tired the next morning he can
always skip work for a day; the agency will survive without him.
What presses on his mind today is making sure he can put his hands on what he
needs to proceed with his plan of exit, as he calls it. These two young men better have
thought of everything; he doesn’t have the time to pussyfoot. However, he has faith
in the old man, whom he has always trusted to deliver what is necessary.
He walks into the hotel restaurant and orders his breakfast. He opens the
morning paper and reads the headlines; the same stuff again and again. His breakfast
comes and he tries to enjoy it, despite the headlines and his thoughts. What happens
if the two young men cannot get what he needs? A shiver travels down his spine like
a thunderbolt as this thought sinks deep in his mind, and he squirms out of fear that
all his mental preparation for this last mission might be in vain.
He overhears two couples next to him talking about the Oscars scheduled
for sometime in March. They seem to be very absorbed in what they are
discussing; he hears one of the men supporting one actor over the others, and
the other three people seem to agree, as Bevan doesn’t hear any objection to the
first person’s remarks.
His thoughts take him away again to his plan of action, and he glances at his
watch; it is only 10:30 a.m. He’s so anxious about his plan that he cannot wait to
meet Hakim at Earl’s and get answers. Ibrahim’s nephew had better have good
news for him, or else. What can he do if they cannot get it?
He finishes his breakfast, pays his check and goes for a walk around the hotel
grounds with the manicured lawns and the pretty shrubs and flowers
everywhere. He needs to clear his mind and the crisp morning air will help. He
also needs to stretch his legs.

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Straits and Turns

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Phaedra

…what beautiful mound hidden under that skimpy bathing suit she
wore, the Muse of my day with her flowing brunette hair, her balanced
curves, her excellent sized breasts, her exquisite buttocks which she
moved in an erotic way unparalleled to any I had ever seen and trust me
I’ve seen many, far too many to know the beauty from the average and
even more so from the unworthy of my glance and this ethereal beauty
walked as if floating over the smooth sand just as my dream of touching
those exquisite curves brought me to heavens. Indeed, the ancient
Muses were there interacting and playing with her, and I couldn’t see
any difference between today’s earthly Muse and the Ancient ones,
and here she was turned towards me when, suddenly, our glances met.
She sensed that, behind my sunglasses, my eyes were fixated on her
ethereal saunter, and she remained focused on me for more than ten
seconds: the first acknowledgement.
Yes, I was looking at her, and she knew it, and that was enough
for the game of love to be played when she went back to her chair and,
turning it to the sunshine, she lay her calligraphic body onto the multicoloured
towel and gazed at the open water of the quiet and serene
cove. I let myself travel along with her glance. I marvelled at the natural
beauty of the cove with lapping waves and its whooshing breeze,
while I didn’t hesitate to imagine this day’s wonder in the body of the
tourist. In her early thirties she represented the female queen of the
beach, yes, there were others too, some very pretty as well, yet this
one was the special one of who one with exquisite taste, like myself,
could easily get himself loose in the imaginary game two people play
when the chance arises and this were my thoughts when suddenly the
Ammoudara Aphrodite turned her body to her stomach letting the
bright sunshine play with her back, from the top of her head to the
very lustful buttocks and legs of hers, indeed it was that moment that
she stared towards where I was sitting and realizing I was still with her
she fixated her glance towards me. I raised my hand and lowered my
sunglasses a bit, and seeing her from the top of my glasses, I smiled
a full smile at her, to which, to my utter surprise, she also lowered
her sunglasses and stared at me from the top of hers.

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In the Quiet After Slaughter

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excerpt

– I guess we better get going, I said. We don’t wanna miss our rendezvous.
Burt didn’t budge. Finally he said, Ain’t gonna be no rendezvous.
He loosened the flaps of his pack and spilled its contents.
River rock. I dumped mine — the same.
– What’s going on, Burt?
– Ain’t no satellite receiver, little brother. Those two buggered off
long ago. And look, he said, fingering the napkin map and peering
over the edge into the ravine. They were hoping we’d have ourselves
a little accident.
– But this cable! And the TV store!
Burt chuckled. The van was leased, he said. The TV store was
rented by the month.
I still wasn’t convinced.
– I was checking on my stash one night when I overheard the two
of them talking. It was all Swanson’s idea. He’s done this before.
Bud’s his stooge.
– And?
– I told the cops everything. Those two are probably in cuffs by
now.
Burt removed a nylon bag from his pack.
– Open it, he said.
It was stuffed with paper money, and plenty of it.
– Explain, Burt . . .
– While Bud was trying to find mine, I was looking for his. A couple
of times we almost bumped into each other. With a little help
from a friend, I found his first. All the share money, his cut of the TV
sales.
My brother separated the money into three piles and pointed to
the tallest. The bills were stacked like a column of Chinese characters.
– I figure we’d turn this in, he said. It belongs to Aunt Peggy and
the others. But this one—he stuffed the second pile into the pack—
is ours. After all, folks have their TVs.
– And the third?
– That’s for cousin Mark. A reward. He’s the one found a couple
of Bud’s chewed-up toothpicks down by the river and suggested we
start digging.

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Straits and Turns

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excerpt

FROZEN SALMON

…worst of all had occurred when a passenger couldn’t hold his or her
bowel and the cab would turn into a crapping space, which would
take two good hours of disinfecting and cleaning before one would
be allowed to take another fare. It happened to Costa once, when he not
only lost most of his shift, but he also had to do the cleaning, to boot.
The driver’s thoughts kept him busy as he travelled over the Granville
Street Bridge, and upon reaching Broadway, he turned to the right,
and after two miles of distance, he turned left on Blenheim Street, which
would take them to the reservation. He noticed that his customers were
half-asleep; yet the stench of their breathing forced him to open his
window to get some fresh air. Night had fallen when they arrived at the
Indian reservation community, although towards the west, there were
some bright gleams of the sunset that no one paid attention to. Such
romantic images weren’t important since his customers struggled as
they searched their pockets for the money to pay the fare.
“Where is your money?” the white man asked the Indian, who
pretended he didn’t follow his buddy’s question, and he started getting
out of the car.
“Where are you going?” the driver asked angrily, “Who’s paying
the fare? Eleven sixty…” he indicated to them, pointing at the meter.
They stared at each other. No word was spoken. No fart or any
other foul smell was detected. Then, the Indian showed his middle
finger, as if to say, you know what a man means when he raises his
middle finger to someone and now Costa was angry since the fare
turned into something dramatic. Nonetheless, he had not the slightest
inclination to forego his fare for these two assholes. Costa grabbed
the white man by the sleeve and yelled,
“Eleven dollars and sixty cents, or I call the cops.”
They both started searching their pockets again. No money was
found.
“I don’t have a dime…” the Indian said.
“I don’t…” the white guy said, “you knew I had nothing left, I
bought the last round, don’t you remember?” he said in a questioning
way, then he suggested, “Ask your wife for a twenty-dollar bill.”

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Still Waters

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excerpt

…made and she could not take a chance on hurting them by refusing
their generous offer. It was kind of them to even think of an engagement
gift, but she wished they had decided on something less ostentatious.
Oh well, maybe if it was a small, inexpensive car she wouldn’t
feel so bad about accepting it.
She had not told her parents. She did not want them to feel they had
to give the newly engaged couple a gift. Such a thing had never entered
her mind, and she hoped Cam did not expect it either. And anyway,
her parents certainly could not afford anything as lavish as a car.
Maybe I’m out of my league, Tyne thought. We’re just simple
country people. I shouldn’t be marrying someone like Cam.
This new revelation made her uneasy, taking the edge off the excitement
she felt about returning to the city. She turned to look out
the window onto the bleak winter landscape, but a little girl in the
seat beside her suddenly caught her attention and offered a welcome
diversion for her thoughts. The blond-haired child held up a story
book and asked her a word.
“That says hospital,” Tyne replied, smiling into the innocent face.
Noting the pictures in the book, she asked, “Is your story about a nurse?”
The child beamed. “Yeth. When I grow up, I’m going to be a nurth.”
“Are you? That’s lovely. I’m a nurse, and I work in a hospital like
that one in your picture book.”
The little face turned up, the blue eyes wide and incredulous. “Oh
… oh, you’re a nurth … oh.”
Tyne laughed softly, and could not resist the urge to put her arm
around the little one and hug her. Looking up, she saw the warm
smile of a young woman sitting across from them.
“You’ve made her day, thank you,” the woman said, smiling.
“Are you her mother? Oh then, I’ll trade places with you so that
you can sit with her.”
“No, no,” the mother waved her hand. “She wouldn’t thank me for
that.”
Tyne laughed and turned back to the admiring child. Someday,
would she and Cam have a little girl like this dear one? A girl who
wanted, more than anything, to be a nurth?

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In the Quiet After Slaughter

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excerpt

Every couple of days Swanson visited Aunt Peggy’s. He and Bud held
court at the kitchen table. They fell silent if any of us came too close.
Most evenings Burt retreated to a spot on the river and helped
Mark with his knots. A fear of cougars prevented me from joining
them.
One night Swanson and Bud asked to talk with us. They waited
until our cousin was asleep.
– We’re gonna hook up the receiver on Sunday, Bud said.
– What of it? Burt said. We’ve got a TV back home.
– We’ll need assistants.
– Paying top dollar, Bud said. Up to it?
– Why tell us? Burt sparred. We’re students. On vacation.
–We’ve had dozens of applications, Swanson said.He removed his
cowboy hat. There was a wart above one eye looked like a ladybug.
– We don’t know nothing about receivers, I said. We don’t even
know what one looks like.
– You boys ever heard of the Sherpas? Swanson asked. They help
climbers in the Himalayas.
– Think it over, boys, Bud said. It’s a great opportunity.
After Swanson had left, our aunt scouring dishes, Bud leaned into
Burt and said, Jails are full of punks like you.
He slid a fresh toothpick into his cheek, then quickly removed it
again.
– One night changes their whole outlook. Get my meaning?
– I was 14. I didn’t.
Burt wedged one of Bud’s toothpicks between his lips.
– That the reason, Uncle Bud, you walk like a girl?
Pork Chop Hill seemed considerably steeper standing in a pasture at
its base than it did from downtown Coppermine. Its flanks were
dressed in dense old growth, the highest point smothered in cloud.
A hundred people must have turned up to see us off. A photographer
from the Gazette snapped photos; the school band did its best.
Flatulent cows grazed lazily amongst the muddy pickups.
Swanson reiterated our tasks. He and Bud, carrying sensitive…

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