Tag: literature

The Circle

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Excerpt

Thursday morning Los Angeles opens her eyes, staring at the sun rising steadily
on the eastern horizon, gifting the city with warmth and joy. Even the homeless
smile this morning knowing it will be easier to locate food in the restaurant garbage
bin or the neighborhood pub garbage; there’s always something edible
there. The smog overarches the city touching the taller buildings, sitting lazily on
top of the high-rises. Rush hour is beginning and traffic increases with bottlenecks
in main arteries. One can hear the morning sounds of the commercial,
business center as people slowly reach to their destinations, stores open their
doors and customers rush in.
Ibrahim Hazim Mahdi sips his morning coffee and reads the latest news. He’s
pleased with the way his day went yesterday; he felt pride with Hakim next to
him all along. Sometimes, he remembers having asked Allah why he wasn’t
gifted with a son of his own, yet that was years ago. These days he takes what
comes his way as a gift from the Almighty because he knows the days of each are
counted first by Him and next by His people.
Ibrahim knows deep in his heart that Hakim is going to do just fine with the
money that he’s leaving for him. He also knows that Hakim will take good care of
his Auntie Mara, as long as Allah choses to keep her in this world. Despite all
these positive thoughts there still lingers an unexplained anxiety which has taken
hold of his mind and makes his heart ache; yet he cannot find the reason for it.
He wonders why he feels this now, after has taken care of everything.
The phone rings and he answers to a girl’s voice.
“Good morning, I’m calling from the medical center. Mr. Mahdi, please.”
“This is Ibrahim Mahdi.”
“Sir, I need to arrange an appointment for you with the specialist who
examined you. He has the results from your tests. What would be the best time
for you later today?”
“Any time is fine, young lady.”
“Alright then, is one in the afternoon okay?”
“Yes, that will be fine; I’ll be there at one.”

It’s early evening in Baghdad, and Ibrahim decides to call Mara. He dials his
number at home. The maid gets the phone and calls his wife.
“Hello,” he says, “how are you? I haven’t talked to you for two days.”
He hears Mara weeping on the other end and asks, “Why are you crying, my
beloved? I’ll be home in a couple of days. Is everything alright?”
“Yes, everything is alright,” she manages to say while sobbing. “Are you really
on your way home soon?” She doubts him.

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

Arrows

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Excerpt

Through the smoke I made out the hem of her dress some distance
away. She was kneeling beside an inert body, which was pierced by
an arrow through the thigh and another in the chest. It was her
husband.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a near-naked man running. The
smoke partially hid him, but I saw he was tall, with strands of black
hair pasted to his chest by sweat and speed and others floating over
his shoulders. Funny, I thought, I have not seen that kind of long
loincloth before.
Then I realized he was charging toward Josefa. He bore a
belligerent expression, and there was blood on his naked chest
under his quiver’s band. A pang of fear hit me like a bucket of cold
water. Surely he wouldn’t kill a woman, would he?
We were both closing in on Josefa and her dead husband but from
different directions. I was closer than he was. Josefa looked up at the
Indian, open-mouthed and white as the ghost she was in danger of
becoming. I sprinted toward her, heart throbbing, and tore the
buckler from her dead husband’s grasp. There was a serviceable
harquebus lying at his side and the sheathed dagger at his belt but I
didn’t want to use any potentially lethal weapon.
I squared my shoulders and braced myself for whatever might
come. It was God’s choice to see us through or not. I raised the small
shield on my forearm as I had seen others do. His bare feet landed
underneath the buckler, and he delivered a savage blow that
shocked its way up my arm, pushing me back, the clang resonating
in my ears.
He held his arm high, ready to deliver another blow. I was
crouching, peering over the buckler. Josefa yelped. I charged and
overthrew him, grunting like a beast. He fell but was on his feet
before I knew it, the hellish macana still in his grasp. His eyes leered
at me from his horribly painted face. I could feel his anger, his pride,
his hate, but there was a fortitude that sent a chill down my spine.
He turned and swung at my belly, but I leapt backwards as the
macana came within inches. “Run!” I shouted.

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

Jazz with Ella

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Excerpt

the civil rights movement would make headlines in the Soviet Union. It would probably be couched in the language of the state extolling how the slave masses had risen up against the capitalist oppressors or some such jargon. She realized she had not seen a single black person since her arrival in the country, although Moscow University reportedly attracted African students.
“Excuse me. I am naïve,” he went on. “I must ask a very important question. Promise me not to laugh?” She nodded. “Is it only black persons who make jazz music in Canada or America? Or can white people like me make jazz?”
She tried not to grin at his earnestness. “Why would you ask that? Lots of people of all colours play jazz! You’re safe there to play whatever music you want…” She could see his discomfort, so she continued more gently. “It’s true, jazz has its roots among black musicians, that’s for sure. Many of them grew up singing in church choirs, like Aretha Franklin, for example. She’s my favourite. Do you know her?”
“No, tell me.” They spent the next while with Jennifer dredging up anything from her memory that she had ever learned about jazz, gospel or blues in the west to share with Volodya. While they were engrossed in this, Alya tapped on the door and entered with a bottle of brandy, some cheese, bread and a cut-up cake that she served. She settled herself comfortably with an air of possession. When the three were seated, the woman’s eyes swept up and down Jennifer appraisingly. She asked the usual questions in broken English. Where did she work? Was she married?
Jennifer responded more quickly this time on the marriage question. She had decided to answer questions with the vague, “My husband and I no longer live together,” rather than a more elaborate explanation.
Volodya switched on a radio that played American swing music. “It’s time for Voice of America,” he told her. “Reception is good at this time of day.”
“They must be broadcasting from somewhere outside of the Soviet Union?”
“Military base in Germany, I think.”
“Please eat,” said Alya, who was not having any of the cake herself.
Jennifer was just getting ready to ask Alya about herself when the woman swung toward Volodya in a gesture of approval. She rose, made her apologies, and left the bedroom with a significant glance at the bed.

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

He Rode Tall

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Excerpt

“Well,” Tanya said, “you certainly have as nice a string of horses
as I have ever seen. You have a dozen good horses here that are
better than all the horses I have ridden in my entire life. What are
you going to do with them?”
“What do you mean?” Joel asked.
“Well, the word around the rodeo grounds is that, with you
running the Circle H, it isn’t going to be as easy as it has in the
past for a cowboy or horse trainer to pick up a CircleHhorse. You
know, a lot of those cowboys came to depend on your dad for
quality horses at a cheap price. I used to hear them say that they
were only afraid of one thing—that your dad would leave the
ranch one day and discover what other people were selling their
horses for. I heard that there are a couple of trainers that aren’t
too pleased with you, Joel.”
“Well, news certainly does travel fast in these hills, doesn’t it?”
“So what are you going to do?” Tanya pressed.
“I am not sure. After the success of selling the old blonde mare,
I started to figure out that I have some pretty sought-after stock
here. I am just trying to figure out what would work best. Do you
know Cindy at the auction yard? We had lunch a week or so ago
and she was saying that she might be able to interest her boss,
Roy, in doing a special sale right out here at the ranch. I don’t
know about that, but, with these horses coming along the way
they are and the end of summer around the corner, I guess I
better figure out what would work best. What would you do if
these were your horses?”
“The first thing I would do is pinch myself to make sure that I
am not dreaming. Just about any horse is beautiful to me, but
these are special animals. And if everything I hear about their
breeding is true, this may be the finest band of horses in this part
of the country. Is it true? Are the mares all daughters or granddaughters
of Doc Bar? Is your stud an own son of Topsail Cody?
That would be really incredible!”
“Incredible it is. Yes, that is exactly what we have. There is
only the one old mare that is left that is a daughter of Doc Bar

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

Swamped

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Excerpt

That was something the clients wouldn’t understand.
He could only try to convince them using the excuse of averaging
down but he couldn’t risk pushing them, and he couldn’t blame
them for refusing. The shares hadn’t done much for them. Why
would they want to invest even more.
He called Logan back into his office.
“Who can we approach to promote this a little? Who do you have
who might be interested? We can base our argument on the prospect
of new brokers coming in.”
“I don’t know, Dad. We could burn a few people with this. You
know that.”
“Give it some thought. Perhaps we could offer an incentive.”
“It would still be a hard sell. When they look at this market,
they’ll see weakness. Who would go into that, incentive or not? And
incentive from whom? From us? I wouldn’t risk it for someone like
Richard.”
Logan sounded disappointed by his father’s willingness to support
Richard Walden when the older man knew very well that this
company wasn’t likely to go up any time soon.
“What have we done with the disposal of some of the real estate
company’s stock? Have you talked to anyone?” Eteo asked, changing
the subject to one they were both more comfortable with.
“Yes, and we got a few approvals. I already have some orders filled
and some still in the market. I’m bidding for some new shares already
for the clients I’ve already sold.”
“Very good. Let’s focus on that for today and tomorrow.”
Logan went back to his desk, and Eteo turned his armchair toward
the window. He gazed at the blue sky and leaned his chair back
a little, closing his eyes and traveling back to a place where the sun
was bright and hot most of the year and where he used to go swimming
as early as April. He would go to visit his brother soon. He
would spend a month or more over there. Logan could look after the
clients.

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

The Circle

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Excerpt

Could she be cheating on him? Matthew has been married for a long time; he’s a
fifty-five-year-old established bureaucrat. Why suddenly does he have all this
anxiety about his wife being unfaithful?
He turns on his other side and crawls under the sheets. He changes the TV
channel and slowly his eyes grow tired. He feels all the emptiness in his stomach
and in his heart. Then his worrisome mind slows down and he falls asleep.
“What did Dad have to say, Mom?” Jennifer asks.
“Nothing important, honey, the same old story.”
“Is he coming home on the weekend? I heard you telling him Hakim has
gone to New York. Did he say anything about that?”
“No honey, nothing. He says he’ll be home on the weekend.”
Jennifer goes upstairs to her room and Emily pours herself a drink.

Wednesday morning in New York and the sky is clear. A tired city awakens from
a last night of excitement and partying. New York is a city that never sleeps, like
Las Vegas. New York has the reputation as being the best entertainment city in
North America, although the big corporations running the Las Vegas casinos
like to think their city is the best in that department.
Hakim is up. He gazes at the view of the waterway. Far to his right he can see
the boats as well as cars in the streets. He has been up for a while when Ibrahim
comes into his room, prepared for the day.
“Good morning, my uncle.”
“Good morning, my dear son.”
Ibrahim calls Rassan to order their breakfast. While they wait Ibrahim calls
his lawyer, William Polson.
He speaks to the receptionist, “Good morning, this is Ibrahim Mahdi. I amin
New York and I would like to talk to William.”
It takes a few moments before a person answers.
“Good morning, Ibrahim, how are you? Welcome to New York. Where are
you staying?”
“Good morning, William. I am at the Manhattan Sheraton as always. I want
you to get Bill Wanton and Regis Hudson and come over for an hour, some time
after eleven. I need you all for an hour or so. Get Regis and Bill to bring along the
necessary forms for new accounts. You also need to prepare a power of attorney
and bring it along.”
“That sounds good, Ibrahim; I’ll put everything together. I’ll confirm our
timing within half an hour.”

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

Ken Kirkby, A Painter’s Quest for Canada

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Excerpt

The days and nights blended one into another, and long
periods of quiet contemplation were interspersed with intense bouts of
hunting. Ken learned to breathe differently. Taking in great gulps of the
frigid air would have burned his lungs, so he inhaled slowly and measurably
through his nostrils, calculating each breath.
One day another group of people arrived at their camp with several
dog teams. Among them was a boy in his early teens. He too had recently
come from a residential school and was sullen and spoke to no one.
The group brought word that the caribou had not come their way and
they were here to join Ken’s group and hopefully share in what they had.
Ken’s group agreed to travel together and to share their abundance. They
planned to move further east, to where they hoped to find enough seals
and walrus to provide meat for the long winter.
One day before setting out, the troubled youth was particularly disrespectful
to one of the elders and was quietly chastised. He walked away
from the camp and had gone only a short distance before several people
went in search of him. No one could survive long in this cold. The wind
began to howl picking up ice crystals and blowing them across the land
and the searchers hurried back to the tents. Within minutes the world
was white; taking even one step outside the tent was certain death.
They waited in silence and Ken found himself feeling both disconcerted
and exhilarated by their patience and lack of anxiety. He was unsettled
because he had lost all sense of reference and elated because each moment
was perfect. He was alive in the now and nothing else mattered. The
long hours of silence gave Ken only one point of focus – himself. He was
meeting himself for the first time and the self he was meeting was neither
good nor evil – he just was – and Ken embraced that self with his mind
and heart, quietly blessing every event that had led him on this journey
to this place.
The white storm lasted for several days and when it ended, the people
left their tents to resume the search. There was no sign of the dogs,
just small mounds of snow scattered around the tents. When the people
nudged the mounds, the dogs emerged from their igloos, shaking the
snow off and wagging their tails furiously. They untethered several of
them to assist in the search, and their acute sense of smell led them to
another mound of snow under which they found the frozen boy.
There was no crying or wailing. They wrapped him in caribou hide
and with great effort moved rocks, that the wind had swept bare, to form
an oval. Gently, they placed the boy in the oval, placing some of his possessions
with him. Then they walked away. They had eaten animals all
their lives; in death, they completed the circle and returned their bodies
to the beasts.

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

Arrows

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Excerpt

Fresh tears filled her downcast eyes and rolled over her cheeks as
she blinked.
“How did you come to be here, Pepa?”
“I was one of five daughters. The last one,” she said softly.
I glanced at her husband, who had stirred in his sleep and
mumbled noisily before resuming his snoring. I knew exactly what
she meant. A daughter could mean the opportunity for a good
alliance or a financial burden on her father. In a household of five
daughters, the father would be happy to find anyone to take them.
Without a dowry, a girl would likely never be able to marry, or to be
choosy about it. Pepa told me her husband had agreed to marry her
without a dowry, despite her knowing how to read.
Gregorio awakened at the sound of her voice. He was listening. I
couldn’t help that. In her town, she said, everyone thought her
strange because she could read. It had been a relief to accompany her
husband in his quest for fortune in the Indies.Her mother had tried to
convince him to leave her in a convent, but he wouldn’t hear of it.
Gregorio kept watching her, sympathetically. He might have
consoled her himself had her husband not awakened at that instant.
Gregorio narrowed his eyes and shot him a loathsome look from
head to toe. “I’ll have something brought for you, señora,” Gregorio
said. “You’ll need your strength.”
“Gregorio is right, you should eat,” I said.
This unexpected attention seemed to perk her spirits. “I can read
something to you all, if you like,” she said, eyes lowered.
“Of course,” I said, breaking the silence. “What do you have
there?”
“It’s the Lazarillo de Tormes,” she said, taking a small book out
from under the folds of her skirt. The corners of her mouth trembled
as she tried to smile. She must have been protecting that book like an
amulet.
“This is a story about a rascal who is a blind man’s guide. Do you
know it? Here, listen: Fainting and dying of hunger, I staggered along the
street, and while passing by the Barley Square I found an old praying
woman with more tooth than a wild boar . . .”

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

Swamped

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Excerpt

Logan getting up and walking to the shower. The sound of the water
mixed with the chirping of birds in the trees around the house. Logan
came down ready for an early departure to the office.
“You’re up very early today, son,” Eteo said.
“Yes, earlier than usual, but let me share a coffee with you before
I go,” Logan replied. He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a
cup, then sat next to his father.
“What should we focus on today, Dad?”
“Keep on buying slowly in the new company. We have plenty of
orders, right?”
“God, yes, at least half a million, but I’ll do it slowly.”
“Yes, and carefully. If you notice anything strange, let me know
right away. And don’t forget we have plenty to allocate to our clients
from the private placement.”
“Yes, I remember, and yet we still have lots of orders. When the
market goes after it like we do, what do you think will happen to the
price?”
“We don’t like to chase it up ourselves, you know. We want other
people to do that.”
“Yes, of course.”
“And something else. Let’s try to unload some of that loser we
bought a year ago, that real estate deal that didn’t do well. Let’s call a
few of our people who invested in it and convince some of them to
take the loss and reposition into this one. They’ll have a better chance
of recovering their losses and maybe even making a few dollars this
time. Get Helena to talk to some of them. Let’s see where that takes
us.”
“Okay, will do.”
“Have you got enough stock for your key people?”
“Not for all, but I’ll keep on buying. Slowly, as you said. We have
enough right now for the two brothers and Angelo. Have you talked
to them?”
“Yes, I talked to them and to Yannis. Kenny too. Position him
and his friends in this one, but slowly, as long as we get some stock
for all of them, okay?”

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

Water in the Wilderness

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Excerpt

“But where would they go, otherwise?” Millie said. “There doesn’t appear to be much choice, does there? Corky, as nice a guy as he is when he’s sober, certainly isn’t a fit parent.”
When Tyne didn’t answer, Millie pulled herself erect and stared at her. “You’re not thinking you should … that you could …? Tyne?”
Tyne looked down and began to move her coffee mug in circles on the table. “Yes, Aunt Millie, we have talked about fostering the children. Would that be so bad?”
Millie reached to cover Tyne’s hand, stopping its circular motion. Tyne looked up.
“Goodness no, child, it isn’t wrong to want to do that. In fact, it would be really kind of you and Morley to take the children in. But are you ready for that? Have you thought of the commitment it would take to raise two young ones? And you’re just starting out in your marriage.”
“I know … I know what you mean, Auntie. It would be a big decision, but we’ve grown to love Rachael and Bobby. Neither one of us can stand the thought of them being neglected like Ruby’s kids are.” And she went on to tell her aunt some of the ways the children had endeared themselves during the time they had lived on the farm.
When they got up from the table to start the dinner, they were both laughing through their tears. Tyne carried their mugs to the sink, saying as she went, “It may be a moot point, anyway. We can’t make any plans until we know Corky’s wishes. But he’s a reasonable kind of guy when he’s sober; the trick will be in catching him when he is sober, and talking to him.”
Millie put an arm around Tyne’s shoulders. “Leave it in God’s hands, dear, and seek his will. Remember, all things work together for good to those who love him.”
Tyne smiled and covered her aunt’s hand with her own. “Yes, Auntie, I know that even though it’s a hard lesson to learn sometimes.” She turned and kissed Millie’s smooth cheek. “Thanks for being here for me like always. I love you.”
As they set to work to prepare the noon meal, Tyne’s heart felt lighter than it had for days.

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