Tag: life

Still Waters

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Excerpt

“No, he hasn’t mentioned it to me. Why? Do you think that’s why
your dad is here?”
She shook her head. It was a moment before she answered him.
“I had thought that, but now I don’t. I think I know why he’s here,
Cam. I believe our fathers are trying to set us up for more than a
drive home in the dark.”
Cam glanced at her quickly. “No kidding? I’m sorry, Tyne. Sorry to
embarrass you, that is.”
“I’m not embarrassed, I’m angry. How dare he meddle in my life?”
“Your dad must know you’re about to be engaged to a chap in
Emblem. Why would he try to set you up with me?”
Tyne took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. She wondered if
she should tell Cam the whole story, then decided she would lose
nothing by doing so. “My boyfriend … Morley … is Protestant. Dad
does not approve. In fact, he’s furious about it.”
In the dim interior of the car, she saw Cam nod. “And now,” he
said thoughtfully, “his old friend, Arthur Tournquist, who is Catholic,
calls to say he’s met Jeff ’s daughter. And in the course of the
conversation, Arthur happens to mention that his son is home from
medical school, and bingo! A bulb lights up in your dad’s brain.”
“Exactly.”
They reached the hospital grounds, and Cam drew up at the entrance
to the nurses’ residence. He shut off the motor and turned in
his seat to look at her. “Tyne, I’m sorry this has made you uncomfortable,
but don’t be angry with your dad. I’m sure he means well.
And my dad is as much to blame.”
She sighed and touched his hand where it lay on the seat between
them. “It’s okay, I’ll get over it. It was a lovely evening, and I really
enjoyed meeting your mother. Thanks for bringing me home, Cam.”
In the dim light she could see his sad smile. “Well, as we said the
other day, we may end up working in the same hospital sometime.
I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on
the lips.
Tyne did not pull away. Instead, her right arm went up to encircle his
shoulders. Suddenly they embraced, clinging together for a moment,
their cheeks touching. Then she turned from him, opened the car door
and ran into the residence before he could move from his seat.

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

The Circle

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Excerpt

Silence takes their thoughts and the surrounding area like when you stop before
the blooming hyacinth and your eyes become teary, or when you stare at the
orange sun at dusk before the sea takes him into her watery embrace, like when
the little chick chirps in the nest and its mother tries to teach it how to grasp the
worm from her beak and your eyes become teary, and you don’t know the
reason. It’s like that. The disappointment is obvious in Hakim’s face.
“When did they find my parents and what did they do with them?”
“The next day when I found out about the bombing, I ordered the search.
They found your father and mother in the rubble, and you as well. Your parents
were buried according to tradition, and I took you into my home.”
“What else happened on those days? Please tell me more about my parents,
about their property, what happened to it, how did the Americans manage to
bomb our home instead of someone else’s.”
“War, my dear boy, is a terrible thing. It brings out the worst in people. It’s
incredible to imagine what people do in times of stress, in times of fear, in times of
desperation. That’s what war does: it affects people in the worst possible way. You
see a brother killing a brother, you see friends who suddenly become the worst of
enemies, all for what, you may wonder, and there is no answer. It is unbelievable
what a person can do in the stress of war, when they don’t have means of feeding
their family, or when they are afraid for their lives, when one finds a rifle thrown to
the side of the road and takes it in his arms. At that moment, he becomes an enemy
of someone else, a killer capable of taking a life. This is why you see civil wars
erupting in every country after an event like this. The whole system is gone—the
security, the police, the courts, the justice system, all the apparatus of the country is
gone. In our case, even today after all this time, there are bombings and suicide
bombers killing people in the hotels, the plazas, even in the mosques. This is what
war creates, my dear boy, and you can only hope war won’t come your way ever
again. As far as what happened to your parents’ house, it’s still there, uninhabited,
still standing half-way; one day we have to address the issue of what to do with it.”
Hakim remembers now what he wanted to ask his uncle since yesterday.
“My uncle, how have you come to know these people, the Admiral and
Jennifer’s father, Matthew?”
Ibrahim laughs lightly.
“When you reach my age,my dear boy, you’ll understand I know a lot of people,
because I have met so many over the years; it is as simple as that. To satisfy your
curiosity I met the Admiral in Baghdad when he was a young officer at the American
Embassy before the days of the first Gulf War and Saddam Hussein. Matthew I met
yesterday, but I know he works for Bevan, who is Matthew’s boss.”
“What job do they do?”

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

Arrows

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Excerpt

I helped him up and guided him to a seat on top of the same barrel
he had supposedly broken. His weight caused the wine to pour out
even faster. Without a word, I turned to Benjamin and offered him a
hand.
“The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.”
I smiled, extending my hand further. “I apologize for the push; I
didn’t think I could stop you otherwise.”
His eyes darted from my face to my hand, and he took it with a
grunt. I smiled even more, digging my heels to support his weight as
he stood up. I patted him on the shoulder. I was getting rather good
at applying Bartolomé’s persuasive techniques.
“The barrel must have been damaged already,” I said. “You do
realize it could not have been broken by this little fall alone, don’t
you? Please, don’t hurt him or anyone else again.”
Benjamin put a hand on his dagger and leered at the Indian, who
was already picking up the damaged barrel and loading it onto his
narrow shoulders. He was lean and small, the barrel undeniably big
for him.
I met Bartolomé’s eyes, intense and darkened by the shadow of
his scowl in the dawn’s dim light. The corner of his mouth twitched,
and he gave me an imperceptible nod.
“Back to work!” he bellowed.
I felt ashamed for all of us. It sickened me to realize that every
man among us, even Benjamin, someone who had a tendency to be
jovial, was inclined towards cruelty towards the Indians, as if by
some pre-ordained right.

Soon it was almost time to leave Borburata for the city of El Tocuyo.
We would be a party of ten men on horseback, one hundred Indian
servants, fifty tame Indian warriors and three hundred head of
livestock.
The horse they offered me must have been the oldest quadruped
ever to walk under the sun, and a moody one at that. It glared at me.

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

Ken Kirkby, A Painter’s Quest for Canada

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Excerpt

He ran to the first aid clinic next door. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“There’s been an accident on the road,” the medic said.
“What sort of accident?”
“A tractor-trailer jackknifed and went off the road.”
“Anyone else involved?”
“A pickup truck. There’s other help coming from town.”
Ken’s skin crawled. He forced the bile in his throat back down into his
gut and ran back to the lab, yelling through the door to John that he was
going to check on Jessica and her family. He cranked up the truck, his
heart pounding, an unnameable fear rising in his chest. He put his foot to
the floor, the truck careening around potholes and over the rutted washboard
road. About thirty miles down the road he saw the flashing lights.
He pulled up, got out of the truck and ran to the RCMP car parked at the
edge of the road. Below him, at the bottom of the embankment, amid the
jagged broken-up pieces of the semi, the pickup burned. Shaking beyond
control, Ken ran, stumbling and sliding down the steep slope. The young
RCMP officer he had met previously was struggling back up toward him.
He held up his hand. “Don’t go down there!” he shouted to Ken.
Ken stumbled toward him.
“Don’t go down there!” He yelled, again.
The officer grabbed at Ken’s shirt. Ken spun away. “Is the pickup blue?”
he shouted.
“I don’t know.” The officer said.
“How many people are in the truck?”
“I don’t know.”
“How many people in the god damned truck?” Ken screamed.
“Three, I think.”
“What do you mean, you think?”
“Don’t go down there, the officer pleaded. “Please don’t go down there.”
Ken ran down; tripped, fell, rolled, picked himself up and scrambled
down. He stopped when he hit the wall of heat bursting from the truck.
The flames were dying; the truck was gutted. But what he saw was a vision
he would spend the rest of his life trying to erase from his mind – a scene
that would come to him in nightmares over and over, until sleep meant
nothing but reliving the carnage – pieces of charred bodies inside the truck
– one of them still wearing a piece of fringed and beaded leather jacket.
I have spent so much of my life trying to contain these feelings – to deal
with these things. For a person of that age I had seen far too much death. I
was born to it – born in it. Anyone looking at me – coming from the right
side of the tracks, from a privileged family – anyone who would imagine the
sort of life a person like that would have would be completely off the mark.
So, I have to deal with these feelings very severely because I can’t make the
pictures go away. They don’t go away.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073573

Arrows

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Excerpt

“I’ll talk because the time for our farewells is near,” I said, “and I
don’t want us parting like this.”
“Try me.”
He turned to look at the ship. His aftershave aroma of lavender
and storax, mixed with our sweat, filled my nostrils and sharpened
my senses. Watching him reminded me of my own looks, a sort of
discovery. Over the years, although he was four years older,
Bartolomé and I had become more alike, despite the inequality in
weight and his hooked nose. The main difference was the ripple of
his strong muscles visible under his shirt. Sometimes it was like
watching the movements of a powerful horse.
When I had come to board the ship, we were shocked to see each
other again. We always wrote and knew everything about the other,
but six years had passed since our last encounter. He took me by the
shoulders and looked me over from head to toe. Apparently
satisfied with my growing into manhood, he patted me on the
shoulder and grabbed my tonsure, shaking me softly before
squashing me in a bear hug.
Now we would soon be taking our leave of each other, and only
God knew when we would be reunited. I realized I was staring at
him and turned to face the sea.
Illuminated by the rising moon, the ship swayed, two lanterns
glowing on the castle decks. I watched the white spume of the waves
breaking, their hissing claim on the beach. The breeze carried the
voices of the men still sitting around the fire.
“Why the hell did you flog yourself?” Bartolomé asked.
“To purify my heart.”
“Purify your heart? Salvador, you haven’t done a bad thing in
your life!”
I snorted, shaking my head and reaching back to pull at my habit
and detach it from my wounds.
“I beat him,” I said. “I beat Pánfilo. He was having his way with a
girl. She wanted to resist. I don’t know what came over me. I
couldn’t believe my eyes, and before I knew it I was beating him up.
I didn’t mean to.”

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

Still Waters

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Excerpt

Sister had warned the staff this morning to be careful what they
said in the hearing of their patients, especially this couple. Yesterday,
as his wife was being admitted, Guy Aubert had overheard the nurses
at the desk.
“The patient going into 224 is a threatened abortion,” one of them
said.
“This is not an abortion,” Guy Aubert yelled, his French accent
becoming more pronounced with the level of his outrage. “We do
not do such a thing as this. We are Catholic, and the church does not
allow …”
It had taken Sister several minutes to calm the young man down,
and explain what she meant by the medical term. Tyne cautioned
herself not to refer to her patient’s condition as anything but a
threatened miscarriage. Her heart ached for the couple and the obvious
distress they felt at the possible loss of this first baby they wanted
so much.
Shortly before three o’clock, Tyne made the final rounds of her patients
to assure herself that all was in order for the oncoming evening
shift. The young boy with the ruptured appendix seemed to be doing
nicely. His anxious parents had not left his bedside. The middle-aged
man, who had been admitted two days earlier with a heart attack,
slept peacefully. There was nothing more to do at the moment for
the bowel surgery in 216. His wife sat quietly by his bedside, and
smiled at Tyne as she bid them good night.
Jeannette Aubert was alone in her room, still lying on her back,
still clutching her rosary. Tyne could see where the tears had dried
on her cheeks.
She covered her patient’s hands with her own, and said gently,
“Shall I give you a back rub, Jeannette? You’ve been lying in this position
for most of the day. We don’t want you to get a bed sore.”
Tyne knew that, unlike her elderly patients, young healthy skin did
not develop pressure sores so readily, but a back rub would afford
her the chance to talk to the young woman alone. It might also help
Jeannette relax, and take her mind off the baby for a few minutes.

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

He Rode Tall

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Excerpt

The land, the buildings, all of that old
equipment, and the horses. Heck, you wouldn’t even have to
unpack. I’ll write you the check right now and you can cash it at the
bank on the way through town as you head back to the city.”
Joel could have very easily taken the money. Heaven knows he
could use it. He really didn’t have anything that was stopping him
from accepting the offer. And 60,000 dollars could go a long ways
in Costa Rica, or wherever he ended up. Maybe he could even buy
a nice little bar on a sandy beach to keep himself occupied. He
could see himself passing out cool cervezas and renting out
sea-doos to tourists. Or maybe just passing out. That sure would
have been his preferred behavior in the past. But there were a few
things bothering him about the offer. First of all, he just didn’t like
Buck Smith. Secondly, from what Smith had to say, there probably
wouldn’t be a place for Harry in the Buck Smith Ranch Corporation.
Thirdly, the offer just came too easy, and if Joel was any judge
of character, the offer was probably significantly below market
value. Joel was feeling confused. He knew that life was all about
the choices we make, and right now, it seemed as if he was faced
with a big choice. He could either sell the Circle H to Buck Smith
for 60,000 dollars or he could be a stubborn son-of-a-gun and try to
make a go of it in this god-forsaken country.
The consequences were obvious. On the one hand, he could
have the bar on the beach in Costa Rica with the scantily dressed
babes, and on the other hand, he could have a grizzled-up old
ranch-hand and a bunch of horses. What the hell was he thinking?
One thing he knew for sure—right now, standing in the
sparse and desolate yard of the rundown Circle H, there was a
battle going on inside of him between his head and his heart. And
he didn’t know which was winning.
“Let me think it over,” Joel said.
“Think it over. Hell, man. What is there to think over? This is a
good offer and there just aren’t any other buyers for a small
standalone place like this. Besides that, your dad and I had it all
arranged.”

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

Arrows

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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

The Circle

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Excerpt

“Are you okay? You look like something is bothering you.”
“Hakim, do you ever think about home? Do you miss home?”
“Yeah, I think about home, why?”
“For a long time now I’ve been having these dreams. I’m losing sleep because
of nightmares.”
Hakim’s eyes get cloudy while he browns the prawns in a pan. He turns and
looks deeply into Talal’s eyes and asks, “Why do you have nightmares? What
kind of nightmares?”
“Things from back home in Falluja, the war, the destruction,
things like that. I have nightmares about my parents when they died in front of
our house, their bodies badly burned. I see them in my dreams all the time.”
Hakim becomes agitated when he hears Talal’s description of his dead
parents. He finishes cooking the prawns and checks the rice in the cooker; it will
be ready in a few minutes. He knows very well about nightmares—he has his
share of them. He has had his own nightmares for a long time now, and hasn’t
said anything to anybody, not yet. Not even to Talal, who opens the discussion
about nightmares as if they were his monopoly. He knows too well the
devastating images from home, during those dark days of the war. He has seen
himself under the rubble of his house, covered by pieces of cement blocks and
broken furniture, the night when the American bombs fell from the sky like lava
from heaven and destroyed most of Baghdad. He takes his wine glass and raises it
to Talal’s glass.
“Don’t worry, bro. Don’t let these nightmares control your life. Here’s to
you!”
Talal doesn’t answer. Instead, he goes to the fridge and takes out the lettuce
for the salad. He starts to cut the lettuce, “I see the images of my parents over and
over in my head, as if they are in front of me, like the day it happened.”
“Tell me how your parents died, Talal.”
“It was that offensive; I think it was 2004, at the beginning of the war, when
the Americans fought against Falluja, against what they used to call insurgents.
Do you remember?”
“Yeah, those were the days of hell. I remember well. I was with Uncle Ibrahim
during that time. By then, our house was already destroyed.”
“Well, in our case the Americans tried white phosphorous against the
insurgents. They used chemicals that burned the bodies like fire. That is how my
parents died, because they didn’t leave their house. So much damage was done to
the people who stayed behind instead of leaving as they were advised to. People’s
flesh got burned up right on the spot. That’s how my mom and dad died. We
were a couple of kilometers away at my grandfather’s house,

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

The Circle

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Excerpt

Emily Roberts is still in bed this Monday morning, although it’s late for her. Usually,
she’s up at dawn but not today. Her mind is busily trying to organize Matthew’s
birthday party for Saturday. She has invited about thirty people: friends,
some of his co-workers, even the boss, Bevan Longhorn. She has taken a chance
and invited him, but isn’t sure whether he’ll show up.
They have lived in a beautiful house in the northern part of Los Angeles for
about eight years, and she finds it very difficult to think of living anywhere else.
She wonders what is going to happen when Matthew retires, because he has
mentioned before that he doesn’t want to stay in the same house afterward
especially once Jennifer is gone.
Emily feels lonely this morning. She doesn’t want to get up. She misses
Matthew. Her mind takes her back to their early days as teenagers and to all the
beautiful things they used to do together. Her thoughts mesmerize her and cause
her to feel excited; she tosses and turns in bed.
Emily is a gorgeous forty-seven-year-old blonde who knows she looks as
baeutiful as most girls in the fashion magazines. She feels proud when looking at
herself in the mirror. There have been times when she wished she had the
courage to go out and be with someone, anyone, just for the sexual satisfaction
she misses so much.
Matthew has been away from her almost all the time because of devotion
to his career. Sometimes, she misses even the weekend quickies, although
those sessions only serve his satisfaction. Emily hardly ever comes to the
point of climax with his two- or three-minute efforts. But this morning is
different; she needs to be satisfied. She resorts to her small bottle of oil; she
leans over to the nightstand and takes the lubricant from the drawer. Two,
maybe three, drops are usually enough. She applies the oil and feels the
smoothness that always excites her. After a slow, methodical rubbing, her
body relaxes. Two or three more minutes, and her orgasm is dynamic as
always.
The nextminute she jumps out of bed and runs to the shower,where thewarm
water flows over her and relaxes her as her mind turns to all that she has to do
today. She needs to do so many things—to arrange for the food with the caterers
and to order the flowers. She needs to find a gift for Matt and she needs to organize
the house cleaners. The list of things to do seems endless. She completes her
shower and is rushing out when she hears the phone ring.
“Hi, Mom, what’s up?”
“Nothing, honey, how is your day going so far?”
“Okay, Mom. Listen, do you want to go out for lunch with me? It will give us
a chance to go over your list of things for Saturday.”
She would have preferred to be on her own today to meet with her good
friend Cathy, however, she agrees to meet Jennifer at Mario’s at one o’clock.
She puts the phone down and her mind flies free like a bird in the morning,
and her sexual hunger re-emerges from the depth of her being, as if something
special will happen today, but what? She tries to put the feeling out of her mind.

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