Tim Chase

Flight

Many years ago I boarded a plane heading for Chicago O’hare airport then to Orange County California.  There wasn’t much thought to flying though I never had been on an airplane previously.  My ex wife helped me to pack my luggage and tied a red ribbon around the handle to provide a noticeable marker to easily identify it in between flights.  We were arguing about nonsensical obstinacies creating standoffishness between us.  A snowstorm was expected the week that I was supposed to leave.  It was a business trip I was excited for the new career prospect.  My wife was excited as well but she held on to a competitive bitterness that I didn’t understand.  She dropped me off at the airport with a measure of melancholy that came to her as I was ready to board my flight.  I felt the weight of her emotion.  To tell you the truth I was in ketosis because I was full of sweaty anxiety and besides coffee I didn’t eat a thing. The flight began and I was surprised with how flimsy the plane seemed.  On a different parallel it reminded me of my old Eurosport Chevrolet after I had gotten into a car accident and used a roll of book tape to make a new window.  There was a slight draft in the plane along with mid-flight turbulence.  The constant hum of wind could be heard I’m not sure if it something to do with cabin pressure or if it was just the way smaller size planes sound flying through storms.  Some of the other people on the plane seemed jittered the captain of the plane apologized for the turbulence.  I had nothing to compare it to and didn’t think much of the flight.

Where there was snow on the ground back at home the temperature was temperate and I noticed considerable amount of homes, trees, and then concrete and brick buildings.  I had heard that Chicago was a pretty city to visit.  History was a subject in school that I took interest in.  I’m a meat cutter by trade any one from my kind of background knows that Chicago was once a center for that industry.  There was vigor to being involved with movement and the excitement of something that is greater than any one individual.  Compared to the airport that I left from Chicago O’Hare airport was vast.  I had some time to spare in between flights needing something to eat.  First I went to the bathroom carrying a leather bound book binder with study material for training.  I didn’t want the bulkiness of lugging around luggage deciding to trust baggage handling to safely deliver my belongings.  For the reason of sanitation I was glad that I had an empty stomach going to the bathroom in one of the stalls I accidentally dropped the leather bound case on the ground quickly picking it up washing my hands making my way to the food court.  I decided to eat Chinese food grabbing a pair of chop sticks then began to eat.  For some reason I smelled something distinct that resembled feces.  I couldn’t place the origin of it then began to look.  When I had dropped my leather bookbinder it fell on the ground apparently where someone had missed the toilet bowl.  It was my luck making sure that I would never forget my first time on a plane.  The fact of having someone else’s fecal matter on my hands and my book binder turned my stomach.  To this day I can’t imagine a more disturbing occurrence. I had to go and wash the leather bookcase and the bits of fecal matter on my hands. What I did decide to do was share the story with my brother and wife.  While my wife was mortified my brother was ecstatic promising to tell as many people that he could.  For that reason I had to laugh. 

Several hours later I boarded the connecting flight to California.  It was my first time crossing the states in a plane.  Luckily I was able to be seated at a window.  There was someone sitting on the side of me that was a rough sort.  He seemed dirty, drinking a lot of hard liquor during the flight then he fell asleep and started to drool excessively it seemed unreal.  The most remarkable part of flying with a window seat was noticing the difference in geography with the nighttime lights.  I never felt that minute in comparison to the greatness of humanity. Traveling on the road is different than flying.  I’ll tell you the truth I like driving because I’m able to appreciate the scenery a little more closely but if I were writing a story with trying to have a god like perspective the only experiences that could top that are military planes and space flight.  Seeing that I was traveling to enter multi week sales training I wasn’t looking to be a god.  I was nervous studying continuously on the plane trying to master the material that I would later be rigorously tested in a class of other territory managers and higher ups would also be trained.  I was inexperienced in comparison to most of the others in the training class.  It was my goal to compensate my career experience with memorizing as much of the study material including the company processes.  The second flight was smooth and continuous the stewardess on the plane handed out free soda and the person on the side of me gave me theirs.  From there on in the flight was seamless it could have been that I got into study mode.  When the plane descended there was the inertia of the tilting of the wings on the plane and the spectacular view of the mountainous region of Southern California.  Years have passed with a lot of things happening in between.  In retrospect there’s not much of a comparison between myself professionally since I always move forward and I don’t regret upward mobility.  There’s a level of professionalism that I feel that I have reached including personal tact and skill that I didn’t posses at that moment. Since I’m writing about flying I’ll end with this.  I like the experience of flying, the vibrant energy that accompanies the hugeness of a busy airport.  The godlike view of the magnificent creations that remind me of how minute any one person is putting my anxieties into perspective.  The quick change in environment that provides something completely new with a change of energy that I’ve never had the change to experience otherwise.  Are there improvements with the woulda, coulda, shoulda’s of life lingering? “The best at everything” is a joke that an elder gentleman would say when he was asked what he was. That’s the kind of idealism that I aspire to become.  If were a better writer perhaps I would have sold more advertising when I was an AE and maybe I would profit from my current writing.  This particular position that where I was flying to a training class was the only job that I was ever fired from.  Hard work was always something that I prided myself in.  The business world is more complex in different areas of expertise with hard work not being the only path to success along with more paths to failure.  It lead me to believe that the woulda, coulda, shoulda’s of life motivate me to want something greater for myself.

Against The Current

The river was cold the water was rough and I paddled the best that I could to cut through the thick of things.  For some reason I was in a fog most of the day.  It was my hope that the rowing would calm me down.  As I reached the middle of the river I noticed water seeping into my kayak.  There was a hole in my kayak and there was nothing that I could to about it except paddle.  In an impossibly short distance and time the kayak was full of water along with the weight of the full boat dipping one end of the oar caused the kayak to spin dumping me into the water.  For some reason I didn’t bring a lifejacket with me luckily I kept a flotation square to sit on.  I put my hands through the loops and started to swim.  The rough water fought against itself catching me in the middle making swimming almost impossible.  My mind was clear but I felt the enormity of the situation with the realization that I would drown if I didn’t make way quickly.  I was caught in the middle of the river and there was nothing but water with the current pulling me in.  The realization of drowning was real, I told myself to stay calm and tread.  I swam for an uncountable amount of time in impossible conditions and my legs and arms were cold and I felt the strain along with the weakness that accompanied fatigue.  The floatation device was wrapped around my arm fastened toward my back.  I shifted it to test it’s buoyancy and luckily it held my weight and I floated for a while resting and paddling with one arm.  I hoped that I would survive and not die a fool’s death in a river alone to be found a blue bloated body as a headline in the news.  A few things popped into thought while I waiting for feeling to creep back into my tired limbs.  The first odd thought was a group of voices laughing and the vision of some sort of parallel to my grandfather who survived horrific battles while serving in the pacific during Pearl Harbor.  I swam like dog and I felt like one cold and shivering and I should have been weeping because I was scared.  Then I felt like a turd in a toilet bowl waiting to be flushed.  Floating down the river I felt the tingling and burning sensation returning to my limbs that usually happens after being frozen then warming up.  Soon I shifted the floatation pad toward my back and I started to swim again.  I gritted my teeth redoubling my efforts deciding that I would fight being flushed, that I would be a floater, a remnant, a smudge or some other turd reference in defiance of dying that day.  The river took me a very long distance with a lot of swimming with little movement but I did finally feel something solid under my feet.  When I reached the riverbank I maintained a solid composure as I said my thanks for surviving.  Looking around I noticed that there was nothing but open land except for a large box that was used to hold a lawn mover.  At that moment a group of ducks flew overhead then I reached for the keys in my pocket and began to walk.  

The Dante Grasper

“The world breaks everyone and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” Ernest Hemingway

He felt tired exhausted from the day-to-day battle of being an engineer feeling like he was working hard without respect.  At home he was fighting non-stop with his wife.  He liked the comfort of being married but he was stubborn and he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t allow him to be the man that he was.  One night after work he received word that his father had died from a heart attack.  That Christmas he had bought his father an elliptical machine but he could never get him to exercise or to want to try to eat a healthier diet.  He never felt like such a failure or so vulnerable in his life.  Jacques Lesperance at that point in time decided to take a permanent leave of absence from his position with the company that he worked for.  More than five years had passed along with a lot of the things that that the unemployed life brings.  He sat alone at the dining room table with pencil and paper sketching his scattered thoughts.

Jacques was a slave to the grind of work having moments of inspiration often spending long hours tinkering with contraptions and devices many of them being completely ridiculous in design failing miserably with use.  There was one design that came to him after a long bout with the flu along with bad thoughts and endless shivering with teeth grinding and perfuse sweating.  He was going through a divorce and his nerves were out of control along with his mind running madly.  During that time he felt like he was being bitten and eaten alive.  Being stubborn refusing to seek medical help through that time he sketched, drawing out his pain and anxiety and when it was all done he was left with many ideas that seemed like madness without end.  There was one design that stood out above the rest and it was the concept for a laparoscopic suture device.  The “Dante Grasper” was a device intended for laparoscopic vaginal cuff suture during laparoscopic hysterectomies.  It seemed simple enough with a typical grasper handle ending with a sealing jaw.  The device had a handle with dual bolt-action levers along the side of the handle.  He couldn’t believe that anything positive could come out of something that was filled with nothing but stress. Working in the medical field he preferred health and well-being. He held on to the belief that he was part of the solution by coming up with real ways to improve products that doctors either need or already use. Since he knew that he couldn’t cause the need for surgery or medicine and that the world of medicine is a collaborative his role was to work to develop a product that improved the condition of healthcare.

When pulled out of the package the Dante Grasper looked like a straight wand with a grasping handle and protruding pegs along its side.  In front of the grasper trigger was a side-to-side switch.  It was made in both 5mm and 10 mm size when it was placed down the laparoscopic trocar into the abdomen located over the vaginal cuff after uterus removal, the switch in front of the grasper would articulate the mouth of the internal suture jaw from straight to side.  With a grasp of the handle the device mouth would open to be placed over the vaginal cuff. The vaginal cuff is the term given to the stoma or open wound after the uterus has been removed during surgery. With the help of other laparoscopic graspers synching in all of the intended tissue to be sealed the grasper would be squeezed again to close the mouth of the jaw. While grasped the bolt action along the side of the device handle would secure the internal sutures synching it with a ratchet mechanism by pushing a button on the back of the handle then squeezing the grasper. When closed there was a safety on off button above the ratchet mechanism that would be activated to lock the jaw of the device.  While the grasper was locked with another swipe of the bolt action completes the synching of the sutures. On the front of the device handle another button would be pushed causing a small pop, it would secure the sutures with titanium alloy malleable steel clips. The clips were tempered and tested to ensure proper security.  Another small knob that was adjacent to the ratcheting mechanism along the device handle would be pulled at the end to finish the seal and cut the secured sutures.  When the cut was completed the push button lock mechanism would be reactivated to unlock the jaw of the device and the grasper would be used to open the mouth of the device.  Removing the device was simple.  When suturing was completed the switch in front of the grasper handle would be pulled back over to swivel the mouth of the device to straighten it out.  After that the handle would be grasped to ensure that the mouth was closed and the device would then be pulled out through the trocar.  It was a device that seemed a little bit complicated in concept but it worked wonderfully during surgery with the help of trained surgical device consultants. Jacques firmly comprehended the necessity to hire and properly train a clinical sales staff that would be competent to properly sell the features and benefits of the Dante Grasper, as well as to obserserve clinical cases to show the surgeon why the Dante Grasper improves the quality of healthcare within that particular procedure.  He knew that respect between a surgical consultant and a surgeon often forms when a rep offers a product that offers improvement to their surgeries.

As the lead engineer and prospective owner of the small start up company Jacques Lesperance drew up the design of the device before seeking a patent for it along with many meetings with venture capitalists to gain enough funding to produce the product therefore starting up the company.  After several years along with altered specifications with a long line of clinical trials and clinically certified studies the “Dante Grasper” had recieved 510k medical device status.  Jacques Lesperance was excited about this product because he knew that there was a clinical need for a device of this sort helping both the surgeon with creating a secure surgical seal along with helping the patient avoid surgical complications. During these the trials Jacques began to hire employees.  Among the many hires most of them to build an internal structure along with manufacturing workers was a well tenured clinical sales representative David Rudelle whom would serve as the VP of sales. With the hires Jacques being humble in personality decided to learn about clinical sales because for all of his experience with engineering he had little knowledge or love of sales or the real world of surgery.  Of course as an engineer occasionally he observed surgeries but it was mainly in a university setting where a strong structure was set in place where there was little variance.  In the smaller affiliates and hospitals the surgeons had larger surgical responsibilities often owning their own practices.  They also had more control over what products they would or wouldn’t use for their procedures. 
When the company officially started production Lesperance Surgical manufactured it’s product out of an old warehouse in the northern part of Rhode Island.  Jacques considered outsourcing production however; he held firm to the belief that a product made in the United States by tax rolled employees not only made for a better product but also for a company story that was American.  He knew that since he had only one product to sell that it better be a good product that was reliable and having made in America on the package he believed to help with marketing. The company had a rough start because it failed to win contracts with hospital group purchasing organizations.  Hospital group purchasing organizations help hospitals secure lower pricing by being a member of that particular organization.  If 1000 hospitals are members of them and if Lesperance Surgical had their product on the contract it would make stocking hospital shelves along with distributorships stocking their shelves with the Dante Grasper more affordable and easier.  That price benefit would have helped Lesperance Surgical gain instant access to larger Universities but unfortunately that was not the case.  The light at the end of those negotiations was the fact that while Lesperance Surgical did not win G.P.O contracts the Dante Grasper was a proprietary technology.  Propriety technology means that the Dante Grasper did something that no other product in that particular field had the capacity to do.  There was a product that was somewhat similar in this particular market.  The difference was that the Dante Grasper allowed for a complete automatic suture instead of one by one manual suturing that could get tangled in its own threads.

During the first year of the products release they failed to gain access into universities because of its independent product with non G.P.O status.  However; the Dante Grasper was a product that when the surgical gynecologist used it there was an automatic response because it drastically cut down the suture time for the procedure.  Along with the shortened suture time was the secure suture with a thicker gauge thread used for the sewing and clinically tested titanium clips to ensure its reliability. The end result was faster suture time with a secured seal.  Surgeons that had even one instance of having to repair the internal incision after initial surgery instantly bought into the Dante Grasper.  A line that David would use was this, "With all of the litigation and non reimbursement for what is considered "never events" that occur is it really worth the risk of not using the Dante Grasper?"  David Rudelle had more than twenty years of experience within the field of surgical gynecology and knew many of the surgeons that he consulted.  He was honest with Jacques informing him that while the product worked well it would seem complicated to a surgeon at first.  For this reason and because it was a small company he decided to personally hire and train every clinical sales rep himself. 

There were instances where both Jacques and David were thrown out of hospitals and in those cases they found that it was because of a non compete environment.  Of course they were expecting that reaction from time to time because of not only sole source contracts even with proprietary technology but also because of hospital administrations that did not want reps even company CEO’s trying to surgical sell.  A surgical sale is when the products are being sold directly to the surgeon instead of going to the hospital purchasing asking permission to be able to sell a product to be stocked at the hospital.  The problem that both Jacques and David knew was that the Dante Grasper was a surgical product that wasn’t directly intended to be of benefit to hospital purchasing. There were times when Jacques himself got into shouting matches with hospital administrators because he knew that the surgical benefit did in fact save hospitals money and those heated debates often went un watered.  Many of those times they decided to go to the head of the surgical gynecological department to plead their case for a product trial.  Often because they offered free samples the surgeon would make a call to hospital administration.  During the day of the product trials when David Rudelle along with Jacques Lesperance went to hospital administration in order to gain access into the operating room there would be a silent tension often with hospital administration watching their movements.  On the way back to return their badges there was often a silent gloat to their movements happy with the products clinical outcome.

Cut The Fat

The meat bench had a metal backing with thick wooden boards for cutting.  The owner’s father was teaching his apprentice how to tie a roast while he was picking up buckets of leaned out chuck that was chopped for Hamburg.  “When you get out of the cooler I want you to bring me out a boxed chuck and get me a face while your at it.”  “What’s a face?”  The apprentice asked.  “The face is a knuckle that’s what we called it back in the day.”  In a few moments the apprentice brought out the box of chuck and a few cryovaked packages of knuckles and placed them on the bench.  The apprentice took the chuck out of the box leaving the shoulder there heaving it on the bench.  “Use the back of a knife and open them up so you don’t cut into the meat and here take this smock to pick them up and keep the blood in the package.  I don’t want you making a mess.” The apprentice opened up both the chuck and knuckle drying up the loose blood with the smock.  “I’ll show you how to break down the chuck for a chuck roast.”  The old meat cutter pointed to a long tear drop shaped piece of meat on the back of the chuck.  “I start with the jet. It’s the trapezius muscle but we call it the jet.  Remember that everything comes apart in seems.”  He grabbed his boning knife and a knife sharpener, “This is why when I tell you to keep a sharp blade I mean it.  When your breaking down cattle the tip of the knife is very important.” 
The old man took is boning knife in one hand and a small hook in the other hand.  He dug in the hook to the outer layer of fat on the chuck peeling back the tear drop shaped piece of meat. He placed the jet on the bench, “I’ll show you how to take out the gristle in the middle then we can save that for ground sirloin or cube steak.  It’s a very lean piece of meat and that’s what I use it for.” 

The old man slid over the chuck to the apprentice.  “I want you to start seeming out the cap of the chuck.  I took out the jet and if you follow the seem you’ll cut a big chunk of straight fat.  To give you an idea of the cattle’s anatomy a boxed chuck is the upper back and shoulder area ending where the ribeye begins, that is why there is a thick layer of fat because they store the fat there to deal with cold temperatures.  Unless were making beef sausage I don’t have a use for it.” 

The apprentice started to cut back the cap of the outer layer of the fatty chuck carving out the solid piece of fat.  “Let me show you a trick when your breaking down the seem use your wrist it’ll show you greater control so you don’t cut into the meat and use the tip of your knife.”  The apprentice peeled off the cap of the chuck.  “Good put that to the side you will lean that out for hamburg.”  The old man fliped over the chuck, “This is the short rib” pointed to a small section where the chuck meets with rib bones.  “Some customers like this for barbequing, it’s a little tough but it’s full of flavor.”  He cut out the short rib section.  “Put a cushion under this and put in a bag in the cooler.”  The apprentice did what he was asked to do walking back to the bench a minute later. 

“Next I’ll show you how to square off the chuck roll into a chuck roast.”  The old man cut off the end of the chuck narrowing it throwing the remains to the pile to be cut up for hamburg.  On the bench was a large lean looking piece of beef that was ready to be tied into a roast.  “This is what will be the chuck roast and after I show you how to tie it I’ll have you put it in a plastic bag then hang it from one of the hooks so the blood can drain.”  The old man and the apprentice started to cut the chunks of fatty cattle back meat into stock for hamburg.  “Lean out the pieces and remember this rule always split the fat with the customer.  Fat is profit in this business but we make our hamburg lean. It’s not like back in the day when meat was expensive customers care about health so we lean our hamburg.”  The old man and the apprentice leaned out and cut up the chuck shoulder for hamburg stock mixing it before putting it in metal tubs for grinding.

The apprentice put the knuckle meat in front of the old meat cutter, “The face comes from the upper thigh area of the cattle. You can make a spoon roast with it but its tough and lean that’s why I make cube steak or stirfry and lean stew meat with it. There’s the thick gristle that is the attaching tendon that is where I start.  The vetran meatcutter started to seem the knuckle into three different pieces of meat.  “The knuckle isn’t an expensive piece of meat so if you screw this up you can always blend it in for ground sirloin.  The apprentice followed suit breaking down the knuckle into three different pieces of meat cutting out the excess fat and gristle.  Then he grabbed a fish bucket separating the meat with pieces of paper and put them in the cooler.  When the apprentice returned to the bench they started to tie the roast.

The Gubernatorial Debate

The political candidates were on the debate stage in preparation for the televised gubernatorial event.  It was a tough year economically for this particular state in addition to the rise of social issue concerns.  The moderator a local television reporter began the introduction.  Outside of the college auditorium where the debate was being held a crowd was protesting outside.  They were voicing their protest with the barring of their independent candidate from all debating events. 

The republican candidate Glen Leyzard began his introduction.  He began by putting his hands together in an open book gesture.  “Today this great state is at a turning point.  The current condition of our state is like a ship in the ocean.  The ship to our future is in turbulent waters.  The sharks and remoras have surrounded this boat waiting for something to eat.  Mutiny has begun the stirrings with those on board looking to pirate others to walk the plank.  The winds have taken sale while the boat is still because of cross currents.  The other candidate will lead you to believe that the only choices are sailing toward shark-infested waters or getting stuck between the rocks ahead.  I’m running for governor because I know how to guide this ship toward the safe and healthy sea. A vote for me is a vote for pulling us together unlike my competitor who wants to pull all of us apart.  My name is Glen Leyzard and I want to be your captain.”  There was a short applause and the moderator then turned to the democratic candidate for governor Ron Lance.  “While I agree that this state is at a turning point I disagree with the direction that the republican candidate wants to take.”  He then took a step off of the podium and walked toward the crowd in the town hall debate style setting.  “Folks it’s not that difficult to see what the problems are.  Were not on a boat we live in the real world.  Go downtown and take a look at the conditions of the road.  Stop at a corner and look at how many people are out of work and not doing much.  Have a coffee at a local diner and talk to the locals and ask them what’s wrong and they’ll tell you.  It’s not that difficult, they want work, they want something to do and to matter.  They want to know that when you elect your officials that they care more than the words that they say about your future.  That’s why I’m running for governor. The leaves at the bottom of the pool might leave the water murky after they are removed but the water isn’t as dirty as the other candidate might lead you to believe.  The filter just needs to be turned on so the water can clear.  Yes there is some pulling involved but it’s not pulling us apart but pulling us together.  The current conditions already have us pulled apart.  I can’t do this alone that’s why I’m asking for your help in making me your next governor.”  Candidate Ron Lance went back to his podium where the crowd gave a greater response.  The moderator was energized with the prospect of an exciting debate.

The moderator began his questioning.  “Lieutenant Governor Lance, during the past four years state run deficits have increased including unfunded pension payments and increased unemployment among other social issue concerns.  Considering that you were the lieutenant governor how will electing you as governor change the direction of the state?” Candidate Lance began his answer  “First I’ll start by saying that the lieutenant governors position doesn’t set policy that the governor and state legislators set in place.  I will bring a different vitality that on a smaller scale I’ve been able to produce.  Next, I want each and every one of you to understand why our state is in the current position that it is in.  On a larger stage the pressures of economic recession have fallen on this state’s shoulders breaking the back and bank of our current expenditures and making the everyday taxpayer’s lives difficult.  Meanwhile our infrastructure has continued to decline.  When elected I plan on working with the congressional officials in order to get the proper federal funding that this state deserves.  I’m also pushing for new sources of energy through wind and solar.  This could create a whole new set of jobs that would come to this state and circulate new life into our economy.”  “Your time is up.”  The moderator informed Democratic candidate Lieutenant Governor Lance.  There wasn’t much a response from the crowd this time. 

“Mayor Leyzard I pose the same question to you.”  “First, I’ll say that I’ll stay on the boat and not go in the water.”  A slight chuckle came from the crowd.  “There are pressures from a greater level but the decisions of this current administration have hurt and not helped us get out of this mess.  I am not for staying on the current course.  Ask yourselves if were all pulling together then why are things so bad?  My answer: it’s the wrong way!  I’ll admit I don’t want to be your best friend.  But do you need me to be?  When elected I want to fight.  I want to cut the waste that has been the albatross around the taxpayer’s neck and hurts economic development for our state.  I’ll talk of overbearing expenditures but I’ll also talk about how our tax base has been hurt from bankruptcies that cause unemployment.  The only thing that the Lieutenant governor will cut is more private sector jobs.  How does that help fund anything but his own constituents.” 

“Ask the mayor how many bankruptcies he caused in his city?” Candidate Lance responded.  The audience murmured.  The moderator began to ask his next question, “Alright Mayor Leyzard what about the accusation that you caused bankruptcies in your city.”  Candidate Leyzard began to respond, “I’ll agree that the percentage of bankruptcies are up in my city, but so are they in just about every other city or town in this state.  The greater point is to ask this question, what is government’s role in the private sector?  If my job were solely to save distressed business and homeowners then we wouldn’t be living in a free market economy, which I believe in.  That is a fundamental difference between me and the other candidate.  Opportunity sometimes unfortunately comes at the expense of others.  Market conditions of a city or state shouldn’t be set by the governmental leaders in charge.”  “But your city does have the highest rate of bankruptcies in the state.” The moderator interjected.  “Again, the duty of the mayor isn’t to moderate the private sector, that’s something that leftists like candidate Lance believes in.  I have however as mayor decreased payroll expenses and balanced the city budget without excessive taxation.  This I believe helps to create a favorable business climate.” “Lieutenant governor your response.” Candidate Lance left the podium again and strolled in front of the podium with his fist clenched and thumb pointed out.  “I agree there is a fundamental disagreement between myself and the other candidate.  I believe that there is a better way then to let a lot of hard working everyday people in this state fail and losing everything that they’ve worked for just because its good for business. I can’t say that’s an ideological stance but I can say that its more responsible, humane, and I believe American.  Folks, I believe that while times may be tough if were willing to compromise and work for it then we can make things better even if in small ways.  That’s why I am willing to work with the federal level and state elected officials to make sure that we receive the proper funding to improve this state’s infrastructure that will create jobs.  I’ll also work on creating a greener cleaner energy environment that will improve the long-term conditions of this state.  I firmly believe that building up our infrastructure with help from the federal level will give this state a greater competitive advantage in a big business environment and for you everyday folk too!”  Candidate Lance walked back to his podium. 

“Mayor Leyzard what is your stance on green forms of energy and infrastructure projects?”  The moderator asked.  “First I want to address something.  I don’t like that some people are failing.  In my opening statement I spoke of sharks in the water that were waiting for people to fall off of the boat.  Symbolically those are the people that like failure.  The problem is that the other candidate and his form of leadership is what’s causing others to mutiny and go overboard in the first place luring the sharks toward our boat.  Take a look at the unfunded pension liability and outrageous state spending.  How can economic development take place in a state that raises business taxes in order to fund its own budget?  In concerns to infrastructure, I support infrastructure projects if there is a process in place for it to pay for itself.  As a republican I believe in the constitution and the 10th amendment.” Candidate Leyzard pulled out a copy of the constitution from his front pocket and held it above his head briefly.  “While I would work with the congressional legislators to receive adequate funding, I would also reserve the right to keep the powers delegated to this state.  Compromise shouldn’t have to come at the expense of our civil liberties or at the edge of federal funding.  My first job is for fiscal solvency of this state and don’t let the negative politics of fear disguise what the real issues are.”  “What about alternative energy?”  The moderator then asked.  “I support exploration of natural gas that this state have vast resources of.  When elected I’ll work to weaken the E.P.A’s political powers that blocks natural gas exploration.”  Candidate Leyzard finished speaking. “I’d like to respond.”  The lieutenant governor commented.  The moderator gestured to candidate Lance with his pen and said “Quickly.” “In my opening statement I talked of taking leaves out of a pool and turning the filter on cleaning the waters.  That’s what green forms of energy is about.  I’d like to walk forward and not fall back.  The EPA was put in place because of polluted environments that created conditions that were more than detrimental to the communities and people surrounding them.  I believe that the EPA is instrumental in ensuring that pollution standards are being followed.  Remember that it was the Republican Nixon presidency that gave the executive order to establish the EPA in the first place.” “Can I respond to this please?” Candidate Leyzard asked the moderator.  “I’ll give you 30 seconds.”  “What the lieutenant governor will fail to tell you is that most of the mills and industries that manufactured here and influenced the creation of the EPA no longer exist in the United States never mind in this state.  From the EPA came other agencies like OSHA and if you were to walk into a distribution or manufacturing center if you can find one.  You will notice a clean and safe working environment that has redundant measures set in place to follow.  The EPA has been used as a political tool to obstruct the development of our natural resources and in our state natural gas.”  “Your response lieutenant governor.”  “Look we’re not talking about a local horse farm dumping its manure over a hill that drains into a small fishing area.  From what I’m hearing the other candidate supports you the average taxpayer loosing your life savings so someone else can make money.” “That’s not what I said.” The lieutenant governor held up a hand, “I listened to you now you listened to me.  Were not chum for the sharks and were not dead on the rocks.”  The crowd cheered.  “I’ll not have the hard working people of this state loose their life savings, drink dirty water, or breathe polluted air.  Unlike you I don’t believe in torture!”  The applause continued. 

The moderator then shifted subjects, “Tonight outside is a crowd protesting for their independent candidate State Senator David-Anthony Jarrods.  He supports investing pension funds into natural gas vehicles for all government vehicles using natural gas that is harvested from this state’s resources for fuel.  On his website he’s set up projections for jobs and tax revenue, and investments funds that could generate great returns for state pensions.  What are your thoughts on his candidacy and his stance on using pension funds for investment on natural gas vehicles and fuel?  Republican Candidate Mayor Leyzard I’ll ask you first.”  “Well I appreciate his enthusiasm but I think that he would chase after Moby dick in a row boat with a spoon and take the tarter sauce with him.”  The crowd chuckled.  “Where I agree with the state senator is in his support of natural gas exploration. I’m severely skeptic and hesitant to comment on using pension funds for any kind of government program.”  “But in an abstract way can you understand how it would generate a return for the pensions and create economy?” The moderator remarked.  “It makes some sense, but I don’t believe that the government has that kind of role in the economy.”  The moderator then turned his attention to the Democratic lieutenant governor, “Any comments on the state senators position Lieutenant governor?”  “Sure, first I would say that I would welcome his presence at the debate.  The state senator has a history of taking extreme stances.  I’ll go out on a limb and say that I’m interested in the possibility of using natural gas for vehicle fuel but I need more information.  In Los Angeles public bussing has converted to this fuel source and it is reported to be 80% cleaner in emissions, but I will never invest our states pensions on it.”  “What about the financial benefits of natural gas fuel for vehicles.”  The moderator questioned the lieutenant governor. “You sound like an ad for the T.Boone Pickens website.  Listen natural gas vehicles is more than a state issue.  Would drilling for natural gas for conversion to vehicle fuel create economy?  Of course it would, that’s common sense!If I were governor and had the possibility to purchase natural gas fueled vehicles for public vehicles I would be interested, but if the gas were drilled in this state the EPA would be by my side at all times.”  “Any response to the lieutenants governors comments Mayor Leyzard?”  “First I will state that this is speculatory, but let me address a greater issue.  There is a fundamental difference between the democratic candidate and myself.  I believe that the private sector is the solution to our problems as where my competitor believes in overregulation and obstructionism.”  The lieutenant governor held up his hand wanting to comment.  Mayor Leyzard continued, “I do agree though that natural gas vehicles is more than a state issue.  Again, in a free market economy if the market would support natural gas and a low price point for the fuel then the market would shift in that direction.  Realizing that this country conducts business in a global environment, as governor I would work to harness some of that global energy to direct that toward our state’s economy.  Why has almost all of this state’s manufacturing already moved overseas?  Is it just all about wage?  That’s something that I will focus on.”  There was a short applause. “Proper precautions and pollution standards isn’t over regulation it’s proper representation.  And the people of this state deserve that along with a governor that will fight for the working class and not against them.” Lieutenant governor Lance responded and slapped the podium while the crowd responded enthusiastically. The moderator started speaking to the camera, the crowd, and then the candidates.  “We are nearing the conclusion of this economy focused debate.  We will now begin the closing remarks starting with you Mayor Leyzard.”  The republican candidate smiled and began his closing remarks.  “I’m running for governor because I believe that I will provide the right kind of leadership to lift this state from its current conditions.  There is a big difference between myself and the other candidate and its not only words.  I believe in cutting government waste along with the red tape of bureaucratic obstructionism that blocks the private sector from creating non-governmental economy.  The other candidate is offering more of the same government based taxpayer funded answers.  That’s the current direction that our boat is heading and look where it has gotten us and ask yourselves, is hitting the rocks or getting eaten by the sharks our only answer?”  Mayor Leyzard held up his pocket-sized constitution,  “This document says no and so do I!  With your help we can guide this state toward clear waters.  I’m asking you to help me to become elected governor of this great state.”  Mayor Leyzard concluded his statement and the crowd gave applause.  The moderator motioned to the Democratic candidate Ron Lance.  “Your closing statement lieutenant governor.”  Candidate Lance unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up as he walked from the podium to the crowd.  “Folks, I’m running for governor because I am looking to build a greater future for the people of this state.  I roll up my sleeves because I’m willing to work and fight of the people of this state.”  He held up his fists to show strength.  “There is a difference between me and the other candidate and it is more than his rich upbringing and my poor upbringing, it’s in our leadership philosophy.  I believe in a cleaner greener economy and working to lift up those less fortunate so that they can stand on their own.  The other candidate believes that the only way to grow our states economy is by cutting off the blood supply to the heart of this state and that is you the everyday person.  Ask yourselves, which ship really sails in shark-infested waters. Turning the filter on and cleaning our pool creates a better condition for more than just those swimming on the bottom.  Folks I’m running for governor because I believe that we are greater than our problems.  I’m asking for your vote to be the next governor of this great state because I believe that I am ready and the right person to lead our future.”  That lieutenant governor concluded his statement and walked back to the podium.  “Candidate Lance and Leyzard I want to thank you for agreeing to this televised debate and thanks to you in the crowd and at home for watching.” The crowd gave its final applause.

Broken Bricks

She was a homely sort a recluse finding reprieve in the company of her pinto Parfait.  Patricia was sensitive taking up a persona to protect herself from the negative opinions from others.  She had naturally curled often-tangled fiery red hair and dark brown eyes with freckles that covered her pale skin.  Patricia was a sickly girl not having a large bosom she felt inadequate amongst the company of her peers.  When she was a schoolgirl she was often made fun of getting beat up by boys because she was labeled a “cootie” resulting in her peeing her pants several times in the classroom.  At home she was a victim of verbal abuse by her parents who would get into violent fights, usually on Friday nights after payday and a long night of drinking.  When she was fifteen years old she met a forty one year old man who showed her affection. She dropped out of school that year moving in with him after running away during one of her father’s drunken fits.  Her father told her that she was a mistake an egg that had been dropped that nobody wanted to pick up.  Those words hurt her and she ran away but could never get away from the memory.  The words “Cabbage Maggot” bounced around her head on long sleepness nights.  That’s what her mother called her because she said that she was full of rot and that she was a whore for running off with a man that was as old as they were.  It didn’t matter how many pieces of artwork Patricia created and sold she was never good enough. She stopped using the name Patricia shortening it to Patty because she didn’t wanted to be reminded of the voices of her parents calling out her name.  After moving in with her boyfriend there was a battle between her father and her boyfriend and it wasn’t over his age.  Patty was artist a non-official artist she had a natural talent for creating things.  She sold these items at local fairs making a descent living all of her own work.  Her parents had become accustomed to taking half of her earnings finding comfort in having full shelves stocked with food and a fridge full of liquor.  Patty liked the freedom of doing what she wanted at a young age finding liberty in not being self conscious like she was around others.  Her boyfriend Lange was bird like.  Lange Medallion was tall and lanky holding jobs on and off mixed in with a scattered criminal history.

They lived on a farm that Lange inherited from his grandfather.  It was a country town several towns over from where Patty was raised.  The first year living on the farm Patty married Lange got pregnant and had a miscarriage after he knocked her down a flight of stairs.  At first they got along well though Lange was never sensitive and didn’t like to have long conversations.  He chain-smoked Winston Cigarettes and drank nearly a case of Carling Black label or Ruppert beer every day.  Most of the days Lange sat on the porch drinking or hung out at a local bar.  Meanwhile Patty learned how to work a tractor tearing out the old stumps of trees that Lange cut down.  Through the mail she ordered several sacks of hayseed spreading them throughout a five acre parcel of tilled soil.  During that time she had Parfait a pinto that she had traded one of her stick sculptures for.  She hadn’t put much thought into it because she learned to hide away her feelings but she was happy to have a horse that she could call her own.  She never knew much about horses growing up on the property Patty had old horse tack that was better suited for a thoroughbred than a pinto to saddle up with but she taught herself how to ride.  Into the second year Lange was miserable to be around and his alcoholism and abuse made Patty a well weathered battered wife.  Through this time she never drank she was almost eighteen and to an outsider she would appear like an attractive off beat young woman but on the inside she was more like the pile of shattered mason, ketchup, bean, water, and other jars that her husband had started to pile up on the property. She hurt without the ability to talk about her feelings to anyone.  She felt anger resentment all without the will to fight her internal repression.  To take up the space of the feelings that resided in places that she pushed off she created things and worked hard.

On the nice days Patty rode Parfait around the property.  It was a thirty acre plot of land most of it wooded.  She had learned how to handle her horse and with practice earned the trust of her Pinto.  She didn’t have much of her own but her relationship with her horse was a saving grace that helped her to keep herself grounded on the days when there was nothing to look forward to.  As the hayseeds began to grow into full fields of hay Lange would cut the hay with an attachment on the tractor and with an old rusty bay haler that Patty had bought.  Since Lange didn’t work Patty was the breadwinner of the household.  Growing hay was a good way for her to earn money because there were times that her pieces didn’t sell. During one of the county fairs Patty was at her booth.  For this particular event she was selling ez seal mason jars full of different type of flower seeds that she had collected throughout her property.  She had dried herbs for tea and other herbs for holistic healing along with bars of soap that she started to make at home.  During most of these events Lange would hang around wearing a cowboy hat with a feather in it serving as a bodyguard of sorts.  He wasn’t a very cleanly man having a habit of impersonal conversation often losing patience with potential customers.  It was for that reason that Patty often let Lange do his own thing which meant him sitting in a chair holding a cup spitting chewing tobacco in it.

Not long after the event began a young couple walked in browsing the items standing in front of Lange.  The man was of a portly build with a long handlebar mustache and the woman was short with tanned skin.  She had long black hair braided on both sides with feathers sticking out at the bottom.  Lange stood up from his chair after noticing the couple staring at him.  “Are you going to stare at me looking stupid or are you going to buy something.”  The man stood several inches shorter than the almost six four when he stood up straight Lange.  He clenched his jaw along with his hands.  “Is that how you talk to all of your customers?” The man asked.  Lange put the cup down took out a tooth pick cleaning his teeth before throwing the tooth pick over the concession table near the mans feet.  The man huffed, “I can see that you don’t appreciate potential customers.”  Lange smiled, “I like customers just fine if they are going to buy something which is why I asked if you two were going to buy something.”  Looking over to the other side of the concession stand Patty noticed that Lange seemed to be in a heated discussion with customers.  She quickly completed her transaction walking over to stand on the side of Lange.  The couple looked to the young woman with tangled fiery red hair.  She seemed attractive to the portly young man in a lost puppy kind of way.  “Is there something that I can help you with?”  The young tan skin woman with braided hair let out a sigh of relief avoiding eye contact with the tall bird like man.  “We wanted to introduce ourselves.”  The portly young man with the handlebar mustache finished the sentence, “My name is Bony and this is my wife Leona, were the Hoggins.  We have a concession stand a couple of tents down we sell leather good and authentic Indian apparel.”  It might not have seemed out of place to the Hoggins seeing Patty smile but she did and it was something that she hadn’t done in a long time.  Lange made a mean face seeing her reaction walking back and forth behind Patty.  “Normally I sell arts and crafts that I make at home but I’ve stocked up on wild flower seeds and various other flower seeds that I grow on our property along with herbs and organic soap.”  Patty smiled tucking her tangled hair behind her ears.  Lange stood behind her snickering.  “Maybe you can help me with something.”  Leona said “With what?”  “Well I like to go swimming in our pool but every time that I do I get a rash.”  The young woman didn’t know much about allergies or medicine but she had spent a lot of time reading about herbs and natural healing.  “Wait here for a minute.”  She walked along her table picking out a bar of soap.  “I don’t know what your allergic to but if you go into your pool it could be the chlorine I’d suggest that you take a shower right after you get out and use this apricot oatmeal and milk soap it might seem odd but its good for cleaning your pours and leaving your skin soft.”  Leona grabbed a couple of bars along with a container of flowers.  Before leaving Bony Hoggins and Lange Medallion held firm eye contact with obvious tension before the young couple left the concession table. 
At home on the farm Lange was verbally abusive to Patty.  He was mad at her after being nice to the Hoggins.  He made her scrub the bathroom with a toothbrush, paint the porch, and clean out the barn that was full of old things that his parents collected.  Throughout this he observed while drinking beer throwing the empty cans on the floor making her pick them up too.  She couldn’t comprehend why she was being treated so poorly for being nice to fellow trade show entrants. When she started to clean out the barn that is when Lange decided to leave her to do her work.  He sat on his newly painted porch drinking beer listening to an old Zenith radio.  Inside of the barn was a cluster of a mess most of it was junk but she did find some antique items that she knew that she would be able to sell at the next fair along with set of china plates and bowls and a silver set of silverware.  She left them in the barn out of fear that Lange would break them.  Cleaning out the barn took nearly a week and her horse Parfait grazed on grass but it was a relief for her not be around Lange because she didn’t want to take any more abuse.  By the time the next event was within driving distance she had plenty of old nick knacks, dolls, old baseball cards, antique pots and pans, tea kettles, coffee makers, and lots of other items to sell.  Lange seemed non-challant about it all he had a bad relationship with his parents and didn’t think that their belongings were worth anything.  To him any of the proceeds meant that he could afford a steady supply of beer and cigarettes.  Patty had other ideas.  Now that the barn was empty she started to make plans for it.  It was a sturdily built barn with old style construction.  The support beams were thick like old rail road ties along with old unfinished wood for the walls and stalls with iron jail like bars for windows.  She wanted to sand and varnish the wood with thinking of saving up money to buy a couple of cows and a bull along with new horse tack for her pinto Parfait. 

Patty seemed a little apprehensive about the prices that Lange was insistent on getting for the old antique items.  Before the next show she sketched posters touting antique hard to find items.  As they were setting up their tables they noticed that the Hoggins were setting up their concession stand one tent over from theirs.  Lange made eye to eye contact with Bony Hoggins spitting tobacco in a cup before turning his back on him heading back into the tent.  Patty wanted to wave to Leona but Lange shook his head no. Surprisingly they did very well selling a lot of what they had to offer.  There was some haggling back and forth on items that seemed too expensive to the customers but Lange would interfere unwilling to budge on price.  On the last day of the event Leona Hoggins walked over holding a wooden walking stick with a head that resembled a dead goat.  It had leather around its ears with horse manes braided dangling down from its leather strapped ears.  Along the manes were peacock feathers with chickens feet and sea shells.  It seems unreal to Patty without saying a word she held out her hand to her.  “What is this?” Patty asked “A medicine man staff that I made for you.  Put it on your wall it will help you to ward off evil spirits.”  “Are you sure that you don’t want something for this?”  “You did give me something the soap helped with my rash.”  Patty walked to the table-grabbing thick book with a bottle of moonshine in it.  “I want you to have this in return.”  “No I can’t accept gifts”  She looked to Lange who was talking to customers while eying Leona every now and again.  “Besides” she said, “I think that you could use some help in warding off the evil in your life.”  Patty smiled before opening up the book with the bottle of moonshine, “This also helps to get rid of spirits.”  Leona smiled accepting the gift while Patty accepted hers.
Several events passed without seeing the Hoggins meanwhile Patty sold the rest of the old antique items that were in the barn.  Lange seemed content with being able to have a steady stock of cigarettes and beer along with buying himself poker table with a set of chips and cards. He planned on having his friends over once a week to play cards.  Patty wasn’t a fan of this idea because it meant that she had to be the bar maid.  What she did like is the fact that she had enough money to buy a couple of cows and a bull along with trading with one of the other vendors for a used belt sander, palm sander, and several gallons of varnish. Patty kept the staff inside of the barn deciding to put it on the wall in the barn once it was finished.  The first week of poker playing wasn’t fun for Patty with Lange’s friends being crude with their language and sharp with their orders.  Patty had to serve them beer and make them food.  There was one of the Lange’s friends there was seemed different than the others his name was Sal.  He was the son of the owner of the Redneck Reservoir the bar that Lange would often hang out at.  Keeping to herself while the men were playing cards reading a book about horse behavior Patty was lost in reading.When they got hungry she made them battered chicken with home made biscuits and gravy.Sal noticed how quickly and without remarks Patty worked he stopped her after she served them food.  “You know Patty if Lange wouldn’t mind we could use your help at my fathers establishment.”  Lange seemed a little awkward then looked sternly to Patty.  “She is awfully busy here and she does make good money.”  Sal expected hesitation, “How about two days a week, night shifts just for extra money?”  At that time the drinking age was eighteen and Patty had turned eighteen several weeks prior.  Lange was the one to decide, “She’ll work two nights a week and that is all.”  It was decided for her with the unexpected excitement of her first legitimate job. 

The next couple of days passed quickly with Patty working hard sanding the horse stalls while Lange spent time at the bar.  Her arms ached and throbbed from all of the work.  She was beginning to develop a compact frame from the consistent day-to-day life of living on a farm.  The first night working at the Redneck Reservoir she was introduced to Sals father Mann.  He was a bear of a man with a big stomach buckled in by the farmer jean overalls that he wore.  He talked with a deep voice with a slightly southern accent.  Most of the patrons there knew Lange and they were surprised to see how young and pretty his bride was.  She tied her hair in a pony tale and wore long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans.  While she might not have seemed nervous to others she was.  If there was something noticeable about her it was that she was shy never making eye contact with the patrons looking at the floor while she carried beer or food to their table.  The first week she made descent money for what she considered to be easy work.  She wasn’t the most personable and Lange didn’t go to the bar while she worked instead he decided to have poker parties on the nights.  After a couple of weeks she began to familiarize herself with the regulars at the bar talking a little bit more to them.  At home she worked in the barn sanding the stalls high and low using a latter to help her reach all of the places that were out of reach.  When she was done sanding then she started to varnish the sanded wood.  That part of the project she thought was simple herself.  Her pinto kept her company during her time working in the barn.  She found herself talking to Parfait and with those conversations found herself talking out loud some of the things that she had pushed away.  If there was motivation for her to work it was in the words that brought anger and hurt to the surface.  Her nights at the Redneck Reservoir proved to be consistent income coming at a time when there was a several month lapse between fairs that were in driving distance.  After the first month of work she talked to a local farmer that had cattle for sale she bought two cow calves and a bull calf. During the days they grazed on a two-acre plot of wooded fenced area along with Parfait. With the business that filled Patty’s schedule including work nights Lange became more possessive and physical.  Some nights when he drank more than usual he would act on his anger un strapping his leather belt and he would whip her in the back buttocks and legs.  He’d threaten her that if she ever left him or told anyone that he’d kill her.  Those nights she’d cry unable to sleep because of the pain from the beatings.

Patty avoided Lange spending all of her available time inside of the barn varnishing every sanded piece of wood that she could find.  Patty felt dirty she felt dirty inside cleaning everything that had dust on it inside of the barn.  She took steel wool pads to the iron bars of the horse stalls before painting them black. There was an office inside of the barn built in between the stalls.  The office floor was covered with linoleum and when she tore off the linoleum she found that there were oak flooring beneath.  This gave her more to vent her frustrations on taking the belt sander followed by the palm sander to smooth out the gunked up surface of the floor.  Through this time Lange was unrelentingly aggressive with him beating her accompanying his demands because she was not a “good submissive homemaker wife” and that her mother was right that she was a “Cabbage Maggot”.  There was no love left between herself and Lange she decided that her feelings were final but her will was broken and she was fully vested in the house, property, and to her animals.  To her this was prison, a prison of the mind as well of the soul.  Her two days a week working at the Redneck Reservoir went by quickly with her working diligently without conversation or eye contact.  Mann had his suspicions about what might be going on he decided to have a wait and see attitude.  He considered Patty an extraordinarily good waitress she was fully functional.  What he did recognize is that if she showed some charm toward the regulars that she would get more tips. 

One night when Lange was in a mood angry with the politics that ruled the news seeing that Patty didn’t agree with him he decided to use his fists instead of his belt to beat her.  She had two black eyes and broken nose from one of Lange’s wild swings that hit her directly in the face.  She was small standing five foot five weighing barely one hundred and twenty pounds.  That one punch knocked her down to the ground hard, she saw stars barely able to maintain consciousness.  Hovering above was Lange swearing at her with none of the words recognizable everything was a whirl.  When she got up she was full of blood instinctively running to the kitchen grabbing a knife locking herself inside of the bathroom contemplating killing Lange if he broke through.  That night she slept inside of the bathroom filling the tub full of water staying in it as long as the water stayed warm then showered until the water went cold. She laid on the bottom of the tub letting the water hit her.  She shivered full of anxiety eventually vomiting and having diarrhea.  The next morning Lange banged on the door telling her that he was going to knock it down if she didn’t open it up.  He wanted breakfast cooked and he wasn’t taking no for an answer nor was he apologizing for what he had done.  Reluctantly she opened the door.  Lange looked at Patty unsympathetically before pushing her out of the door entrance closing the door behind him.  She cried throughout the day staying in the barn calling into work cancelling her shifts for the week.  During her conversation she talked to Sal saying that she had come down with a case of pneumonia with the possibility of being out for a considerable amount of time.  She avoided contact with Lange for nearly a week after getting beaten setting up a blanket and pillow inside of the office of the barn.  Lange stuck to his usual schedule of drinking on the porch or going to the bar.  The one thing that was different was that he didn’t have his friends over for poker.  Finally after a full week of no contact Lange walked in after Patty as she went into the house to get food.  “I need you to go shopping.”  He told her.  Out of fear she nodded yes but she didn’t want to go out in the public because she had black eyes and a severely swollen nose.  “I didn’t mean to hit you I just lost my temper that is all.” That was the apology that Lange had to offer.  Patty nodded her head grabbing food quickly before trying to get to the door.  Lange grabbed her by her wrists, “What my apology aint good enough for you?”  She froze, “It is I’m just in the middle of working in the barn.”  Lying to him hoping that it would work.  Luckily for her it did,  “I want you to sleep in the bed with me tonight.”  She nodded while avoiding eye contact before walking out to the barn. 
Months passed by without physical incident but she never let down her guard.  They began attending local fairs selling items at their booths.  Patty found herself in an artistic rut unable to create anything that she felt pride in selling.  She did replicate many of the things that sold in past and while they did sell she couldn’t rid herself of the gloomy feelings and thoughts that boggled her.  One night she received phone call from her mother that her father suffered a stroke.  There was an argument between Lange and herself because she wanted to go to the hospital to see him and Lange ran to the car ripping out the spark plug wire.  Patty ran out of the house and into the woods after their argument.  She ran until she was completely exhausted finding herself sitting on the side of an old and winding road.  It was nearly three o’clock in the morning before she saw the lights of a car approaching.  Lange pulled up their vehicle rolling down the window pleading with Patty to get into the car.  Moments later he put the car in park getting out walking around grabbing her by her hair and shoving her in the passenger seat.

Encaged in thoughts she contemplated the uncontemplatable pleading with Lange for him to let her drive to see her father in the hospital, but there was no Leeway when Lange made a decision.  The following night Lange dropped Patty off for her normal shift at the Redneck Reservoir.  Hours later when he drove to the bar to pick her up after her shift was completed he was informed by Mann that Sal had driven Patty to see her father at the hospital.  He thought twice about picking a fight with the barrel chested Mann deciding to drive to the hospital to pick her up.  Lange was drunk taking a twelve pack of beer along with him while driving.  He was covered in grime from working on his car that day.  After driving for a long time crossing the lines in the road he made it to the hospital able to find directions to Patty’s fathers room telling the nurses that he was Pattys husband.  When he got to the room he saw Patty standing on the side of Sal along with her mother and her father hooked up to intravenous tubes and a respirator.  He was in a coma from his stroke.  Patty froze in fear of what might what happen.  “Sal, I’ll drive Patty home.”  Sal looked first to Patty before looking to Lange noticing that he was drunk.  “I’ll don’t think that’s a good idea.  You look like you have had a little bit too much to drink, I’ll drop her off after she’s done visiting.”  Patty’s mother interrupted, “ She’ll stay with me tonight I’ll drop her off in the morning.”  Lange wasn’t happy with the answer leaving the hospital abruptly.  That night Patty slept in her old room and bed sleeping soundly for the first time in recent memory. 
Hiding all of the trauma that she had endured she sat at the dinner table eating breakfast with her mother. 

Quietly eating eggs and toast her mother was the first to talk.  “Your all grown up” She said Patty who took a sip of her coffee remaining silent.  It wasn’t the same with them as it was several years back when she ran away.  Her mother noticed how muscular and woman like Patty was.  Tear drops fell from her cheeks, “Patricia I never thought that we would talk again.”  The sound of her full name Patricia caused her to pout holding back tears.  Patty felt hurt along with a bunch of other feeling that were bundled within her.  She was also hardened remembering everything that unfolded without forgiving her parents.  Her mother reached for her hand, “Please forgive me for letting you move in with a grown man.”  Patty feared Lange and that fear came to the surface because she thought about what she was going to encounter when she returned home. She pulled her hands back tucking in her tangled fiery red hair behind her ears before returning to eat her breakfast, “When will you be driving me home.”  “As soon as you want.”  Patty put her silverware down wiping her mouth, “I’m ready.” 
On the way to home Patty’s mother tried to have a conversation with her one-word responses is what she got back in return.  When she arrived her mother noticed the house and barn along with the animals that were grazing.  Before leaving she insisted on getting a tour of the property.  Waiting on the porch was Lange drinking beer listening to the radio.  He wasn’t happy to see Patty’s mother walking inside with her.  The house was small but it was clean with hand made crafts on the walls.  Her mother was happy to find that her daughter was a good homemaker.  There was something disturbing to the both of them.  There were old cuffs on the table, that looked like there were used to shackle slaves with.  Patty began to talk taking away attention from the cuffs asking her mother to walk to the barn with her.  They walked to the barn and when Patty opened the doors her mother’s demeanor changed.  She told her mother about all of the work that she had done to the barn the cleaning, the sanding, the varnishing then she walked her out to the grazing area with a bucket of grain telling her mother about how she grows and sells hay along with the history of her horse Parfait.  The time with her mother was the most that she talked to another person in a while.  She conversed with her mother as an equal and that seemed odd.  When her mother left she didn’t say goodbye to Lange whom she never liked but she was in tears from the conversation that she had with her daughter.  Patty didn’t cry but she felt full of feeling and resentment over visiting her father in the hospital.  She walked inside of the house to wash her hands in the sink.  Lange walked behind her and without saying a word he picked up the old cuffs bent her over the sink then shackled her.  She struggled and screamed trying to do everything that she could to get Lange to let her go.  “You need to learn to obey my commands when I talk to you woman!” He picked up walking her into the woods where he tied her to a tree shackled.  “What are you going to do?”  “I’m leaving you out here to think about what you done.”  “What did I do?”  “You know what you did woman and what you do and I want you to think about it.” 

Her mind was blank she couldn’t think about anything else except for trying to get break free.  She was shackled and tied to a tree but the one thing that she was grateful for was that she wasn’t beaten or abused.  The silence of being tied up and the soreness from not being able to move caused her muscles to stiffen with exhaustion along with the overbearness of the daytime summer sun.  When night time arrived it was also her night to work at the Redneck Reservoir thoughts about her employment came to the surface.  She laughed to herself considering the position that she was in. At the house the phone rang Lange was sitting on the porch drinking his beer listening to the radio.  Mann was calling because Patty didn’t show up for work.  He had a funny feeling that something was going on because of the conversation that he had with his son along with his encounter with Lange the previous night.  Something that he never done was make home visits for his employees but this case seemed different and he didn’t know why.  He grabbed his vehicle keys leaving his son in charge. 

Mann knew the town just as good as anyone, he also knew the property and the history of the property.  He remembered that this particular property was used during the underground railroad to hide away freed slaves.  When he arrived he sawLange sitting on the porch alone.  He got out of his truck holding his keys in his hands scratching his head when he approached the porch.  Lange didn’t budge.  “Patty didn’t show up for her shift and no one answered the phone is everything alright?”  “Yup everything’s fine” Lange said before taking a sip of his beer.  “Can I talk to Patty?”  “Nope!”  That response made Mann a little bit upset.  “Is there a reason why that I can’t talk to Patty?”  “Yup”  Lange responded taking another sip of his beer.  Mann had patience but he was starting to lose it with Lange.  He decided to further the guessing game, “Is there a reason why I can’t talk to Patty?” Lange looked to Mann took out a cigarette lit up and responded, “She aint home she’s stayin at her mothers house.”  That answer did seem likely but Mann was well weathered and owning a tavern knew people and he knew Lange.  In knowing Lange he knew how he acted and what he was capable of as well as what he had done in the past.  On the other hand Patty staying at her mothers house seemed likely to be true. 
Across the way a little past the barn was Patty tied to a tree extremely thirsty looking at what was going on at the house.  There was a cloth tied tightly around her head covering her mouth she tried as hard as she could to scream but it was to no avail.  She tried gnawing and moving her jaw create some kind of space to scream but she couldn’t.  Feeling hopeless she stopped trying to struggle. 

Mann got back into his truck starting it up not knowing why he decided to angle his vehicle in the direction of the barn putting on his high beams.  At first he didn’t see anything nor did he expect to but then he thought that he saw someone tied to a tree.  Without waiting he put his vehicle into first gear power shifting as fast as his engine would let him he drove forward toward the barn.Tied to the tree was Patty, he grabbed his buck knife that was in the glove compartment running out quickly cutting the rope that bound Patty to the tree noticing that she was also shackled.  Grabbing one of her arms with his bear like paws he lead her to the truck.  In a hurry he turned the truck around before speeding toward the driveway.  There stood Lange holding a rifle taking aim and then shooting.  The first shot missed the vehicle completely Lange noticing that the truck was fast approaching shot again hitting Mann cleanly in the forehead. The unfortunate part for Lange who was drunk was that he was standing directly in the path where the truck was driving.  Patty sitting on the side of Mann screamed in horror as the bullet penetrated the front window hitting Mann in the forehead.  He was dead on impact; handcuffed and unable to do anything about it Patty sat helplessly as the vehicle hit Lange while driving very fast.  The vehicle sped for some distance before colliding indirectly with a tree.  Not wearing a seatbelt Patty flew up against the windshield knocking her unconscious. 

She woke up at the hospital a couple of days later with her mother by her side.  That night when Mann never returned to the Redneck Reservoir Sal decided to visit Patty’s house.  When he drove up that’s when he saw what happened.  Patty was unconscious and unresponsive but she was alive.  He saw that his father was dead along with Lange who was unrecognizable laying in the driveway.  Sal ran inside calling the police waiting with Patty until they arrived.  Patty suffered a severe concussion, a couple broken ribs, and a broken arm but she was spared severe injury.  It was a nightmare of a marriage one that should have never taken place to begin with.  Several months later being fully healed and feeling good about herself for the first in a long time she decided to rent out her horse stalls.  She wanted to formalize herself and property into a business.  She made an agreement with a horse trainer to give her lessons with the intent on showing along with the people that rented tack and board at her barn.  She had a sign put up at the beginning of the property, “Lobbed Logs Barn”  A  week after putting up the sign in drove Bony and Leona Hoggins along with their trailer with two horses that they intended to board at the barn. Patty Medallion slicked back her tangled fiery red hair putting it in a pony tail looking down her drive finally happy with herself.  A couple of years later she sold her cows and bull buying herself new horse tack and an Arabian saddle bred mare where she would later go on to win many awards with.

Frustration

With a paint scraper in hand he chipped off the barnacles that had collected on the bottom his son in laws fishing vessel “The Malta Lee.”  Jan was grumpy!  “The lazy pipsqueak asshole” he muttered to himself.  Well into his retirement years content with spending most of his days on his property with his wife Jan felt the need to remain active.  He was a stubborn sort that believed in hard work and the old fashioned way of things. Several years prior he had a massive heart attack needing open-heart surgery.  After the slow recovery he changed his diet and began to go for walks with his wife.  His daughter Faith and son in law Craig owned a business in a neighboring town part of his need to stay active was so that he didn’t dwell on being sentimental.  He hated getting old seeing the friends that he grew up with barely resembling their younger selves many of them dying along the way.  Sadly it had become the norm to see his relatives only at family funerals.  Jan and wife Joanna lived in Waipahu Hawaii not that far off from the coastline, for those visiting it would seem like a paradise.  On his property there was a barn that used to house farm animals.  When Jan retired he sold all of his animals leaving his barn empty.  Later it was used as a warehouse for the candles and wine that Craig and Faith sold at their retail location Dionysus Refined. 

This day Jan planned on fishing alone on his son in laws boat.  After throwing the paint scraper and the towel that he used to wipe down the outside of the boat he swore to himself that he would never clean up his son in law’s mess again.  Joanna stepped outside to get a look at what her husband was doing.  To her he looked like a child throwing things about while kicking the dirt.  She walked up to the side of him, “What’s got you so angry.”  Jan grabbed the handkerchiefs from his pocket wiping his mouth from the spittle that remained from his last tirade.  “Craig left a goddamned mess of his boat and its leading me to take a shit.”  Joanna held back a smile, “Really?  It didn’t seem to look that bad to me.”  Jan swiped his handkerchiefs in his hand and shook his head, “I would expect that kind of reaction from you Joanna.  You always take their side.” Jan walked over to the remnants of the barnacles that he had scrapped off of the boat, “This is what I’m talking about.”  Joanna walked away from him toward a chicken coop that housed their chickens.  “Where are you going?  That’s just like you to walk away when I’m trying to have a conversation.”  Joanna unlatched the door to the coop and in unison the chickens followed her to where Jan was standing.  The chickens began to eat the barnacles that were on the ground.  She looked to Jan seemingly amused, “What is it that your angry about?” Jan muttered to himself.  “You could have just left it there it’s their boat not yours.”  It wasn’t in Jan’s nature to see a mess and leave it there instead of staying mad he kissed his wife goodbye and left for his fishing adventure.
Jan arrived at the docs he dropped the boat into the water before walking to the bait shop to buy the chum and bait that he needed to fish.  Along the way he picked up a coffee where he bumped into an old high school girlfriend.  It was something that shocked him because he never planned on seeing her again or reliving the long ago heartache.  He was old and so was she and he never forgot how she broke his heart.  The feeling was instant and he grimaced with facing one of his demons.  Wearing a hat he put the brim of it low trying to hide his eyes and go un noticed.  He ordered his coffee along with a sandwich and he left the shop happy that he avoided her.

Jan baited the crab cages preparing them for his fishing trip.  He felt the presence of someone watching him to turn around and see that it was her.  From the looks of it she kept herself in healthy condition.  She was pretty not looking as old as he would expect, though he did noticed that she died her black with dark mascara around her eyes along with black lipstick.  She noticed Jan after he ordered a cup of coffee figuring to follow him to have a conversation.  She held her hands above her head like she was a mermaid.  They made eye contact shaking his head no he tried to power walk out of the boat and down the fishing dock.  Walking behind him was his old high school girlfriend following him while he walked away from son in laws boat.  She wore shorts and tee shirt.  He did his best to keep to himself walking back to his boat after a short walk avoiding her until he stepped on to his boat and put his bait down.  Surprisingly he kept cool, “Gonoroah” he spoke acknowledging her presence.

She held her arms up above her head like she was a mermaid again.  “The siren has come to take me out to sea.”  He grabbed a rope and tied a tight knot around one of the crab cages.“I thought that I would never see you again.”  She told him.  He kept his head down, “What do you want from me I’m an old married man and from the looks of it you’re a old woman that’s trying to be younger than who she is.”  After saying those words she held her hands to her cheeks opening up her mouth.  “My mother always told me to watch out for sea witches.”  “Jan you can’t still be angry what happened between us?”  He remained quiet finishing up his preparation for his fishing trip.  He put the key in the engine starting up the boat.  “If you don’t mind getting off of the boat I’m ready to leave.”  “It’s a nice boat that you own.”  “Its not mine its my son is laws boat.”  Gonoroah took a seat resting her feet on an upturned bucket.  “How about I join you for your fishing expedition?”  “How about not!  I’m a married man and look at me do I look like I’m an attractive eligible bachelor?”  Gonoroah untucked her arms holding them out wide, “What would lead you to believe that I’m looking to attract you to anything?  Or did you forget who dumped who.”  After saying those words Jan grabbed a clam rake and tossed it across the boat, “Now you listen to me, I don’t know what your up to but I’m about to go fishing so get off of my boat.”  “It’s not your boat.”  That’s when Jan grabbed her by the elbow.  She shrugged away his firm grasp “Your taking me fishing with you.”  Gonoroah took a good look at Jan, “Its not like were doing anything wrong.”  “That’s not what my wife would say.”  Gonoroah placed her left hand under her breast smiling to Jan, “besides how would she find out that you went fishing with an old friend unless you told her yourself.”  Jan wasn’t convinced and he didn’t want her on his boat.  “If you don’t get off of my boat so help me god I’ll treat you like a man.”  She laughed, “Good then treat me like a man and lets go fishing.”
Jan felt guilt overwhelm him and he was anxious because he was contently married to his wife.  Seeing his high school girlfriend Gonoroah he felt hurt and bitterness and her presence caused him confusion.  “It’s not a good idea for you to be on my boat I want to have a day of piece and quiet all to myself.”  The motor to the boat was on and Jan went below deck to grab his rubber gloves to ready himself when he needed to pull up the crab cages out of the water.  Gonoroah was quick on her feet she cranked up the anchor to the boat removed the line to the moor and set the boat in motion. 

Below deck Jan had trouble finding his gloves.  He was hoping that when he walked upstairs to the deck that Gonoroah would be gone.  Jan was miserable to start off his day and she was making it worse.  Slightly rocked he held on when he felt the boat go into motion.  Quickly getting his ground he ran upstairs as fast as he could to see that the boat was quickly leaving the docks with Gonoroah behind the wheel.  “What are you doing?” Jan shouted seeing Gonorroah smile and laugh.  Though he was determined to spend the day alone he was smitten with her persistence. He felt the stab of guilt along with the pain of seeing his long lost high school girlfriend. Through her dark make up and dyed hair he saw though that she was still attractive.  She was thin with long black dyed hair along with dark eyes that had this eyeliner around them.  From the look of her figure seeing the outline of her breast it looked like she aged well.  He shook his head “You dont like to listen do you?”  “As a matter of fact I like to think that I can make my own decisions thank you?”  “Thank me for what?  Getting taken hostage?”  “That’s right I remember now Jan the good little church boy that cried his eyes out when I dumped him because he was too religious.”  It was a sore spot for Jan something that he relieved countless times.  He grabbed a bucket and threw it overboard and punched the side of the boat with his fist.  Gonoroah saw that he was serious. 

Rubbing his chaffed fists he kept his distance from Gonoroah while gritting his teeth.  “The miserable bitch” Jan muttered loud enough for Gonoroah to hear his words.  She didn’t fear Jan as a matter of fact she thought that he was about as mad at her as she was at him. About a half of an hour had passed she was quiet sitting in her seat timing herself. For her age she was in good shape she decided to loop the bottom of her tee shirt through the neck of her shirt to make a makeshift-bathing top.  Jan looked the other way, “Get over it Jan!”  Shortly after he began to drop the crab cages with buoy line attached then turned off the engine and dropped anchor.  Through this time he was quiet not feeling the need to acknowledge the presence of Gonoroah.  On the other side of the boat she was paying attention to what Jan was doing she could tell that he was avoiding her.  She wasn’t a naïve woman having been married and divorced twice and widowed once she lived a hardened life having strained relations with her children deciding to stay in Hawaii while her last divorce took her two children to California more than thirty years ago.  Gonoroah walked along the side of Jan as he readied the fishing poles.  She noticed the beginning of the long scar that ran down the middle of Jan’s chest.  He stopped to look at her as he noticed that she was looking at his scar.  Jan was wearing a tropic Hawaiian button up short sleeve shirt.  He had unfastened the top two buttons not paying attention to himself until he noticed her.  He froze and they both made eye contact before she reached forward running her hand along the scar.  Jan shook his head no, “Gonoroah!” “It must have been painful” she said retracting her hand before turning around.  There was tension to their words and movements and they were silent for several moments before Jan handed her a fishing pole.  “I nearly lost my life.” 

Several minutes later they had their lines in the water before Jan handed Gonoroah a glass and a bottle of beer.  “This makes it better though I am more of a wine drinker.”  “Your in luck then!” Jan got up walked below deck opening the wine cabinet that was there and brought up a bottle of Corvina Veronese with a shiny golden string attached to around the top with a little white card.  Jan handed it over to Gonoroah without looking at the card along with a cork screw.  “My son in law owns a wine company.”  She took the bottle reading the index card that gave a brief description of the wine along with “Raven-Black” in quotations.  She liked the description.  After reading the card she uncorked the bottle and poured herself a glass of wine.  They sat side by side for several moments holding their fishing poles with lines in the water.  “Did you live your life the way that you wanted to?” Gonoroah asked.  Jan kept his eyes focused on his fishing line, “Mostly”  “I never meant to…” Gonoroah started to say until Jan put up a hand.  “Don’t apologize for something that happened between us fifty years ago.”  It was quiet for several more minutes.  Both of them reeled in their lines and recast them back into the water.  Gonoroah refilled her glass with wine while Jan grabbed himself another beer.  “How many kids did you have?”  Jan asked surprising even himself that the question came to his lips.  “Two a boy and a girl both of which I rarely speak with. You?”  “Three kids two of them live in Honolulu and my youngest lives not that far from us.  The one that lives close to us owns the company who’s wine you are drinking.”  “You should be proud of yourself as a father.”  He shook his head, “I’m content with myself I’ve lived the kind of life that I don’t regret.”  Gonoroah pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse.  Jan placed a hand over hers making eye contact with her, “Don’t!”  “I don’t smoke a lot mostly when my nerves tell me to.”  “Don’t kill yourself before your meant to go.”  Gonoroah made a bitter face, “Easy for you to say your happily married with kids that seem to be successful.”  There was a bite on Gonoroah’s line and happened with an abrupt jerk with her line shifting around rapidly.  She was lucky that the pole was secured in its holder because the tug was strong.  It took nearly thirty minutes along with the help from Jan before the fish was reeled in.  “Wahoo” Jan exclaimed “I’m excited too.”  He looked to her, “That’s the kind of fish that you caught.  Some people call it the Ono.”  She looked oddly to Jan.  After unhooking the fish and knocking it on top of the head with a club he weighed it before placing it in a large built in tub taking several bags of ice out of the freezer below deck covering the fish.  “Thirty seven pounds”“That’s a big fish” she replied “Not really for the kind of fish that it is”  Jan washed off his hands and sat back down.  “That was exciting” Gonoroah said her eyes were full of life and her blood was pumping from the excitement.  He had to admit to himself that it felt good to have someone else to fish with.

He opened up a pack of chocolate cracker rods that had grabbed before sitting down.  “Want one?”  “Sure why not?” Gonoroah had recast her line into the water then placed it in its holder.  They were quiet for several moments munching on their snacks.  “What did you do for a career?” Jan asked her breaking the silence.  “What haven’t I done is the question.  I did some modeling when I was young and was pretty.”  Jan nodded his head, “That doesn’t surprise me.  Were you successful?”  “I met a lot of people including my first husband he was a photographer.”  “Seems like you lived the good life.”  “It was for a while but that was the sixties and women had their role and men did what they wanted.”  “That’s not the way that it worked in my life.  I never did what I wanted.  I was raised to have responsibility.”  “Well my first husband wasn’t a church boy!  Anyway he cheated one me with countless women and died of a drug overdose.”  Gonoroah waved her hands angry with saying those last words then reached for a cigarette lighting it before Jan could respond.  “Can’t get away from them can’t you?”  “Get away from what?” She said looking sharply to Jan. He eased his posture, “I was going to say smoking cigarettes but I can see that bad memories were the them that you can’t get away from.”  “Why torture yourself over things that you can’t change right?”  Jan didn’t like having this kind of conversation but he felt the need to offer his opinion.  “ Why abuse yourself because others found it easy to abuse you?”  She fidgeted her fingers.  “After my first husband died I started to drink a lot and that shot my modeling career to hell.  I was a single mother stuck at home and both of my parents had died before we graduated high school.”  “I remember, it must have been hard to cope with.”  “I went on welfare for a few years then I decided to go to nursing school.”  “What happened with that?”  Both of them reeled in their lines rebating their hooks them throwing them back in the water. 

After casting their poles back into the water Jan decided to talk about himself noticing that she lit another cigarette.  “After high school I found a job in the shipping industry and worked a career there.”  “That simple.”  “I like it simple!  I have a barn at home that I leave empty my daughter asks me why, I say because I like that way things are nice when they are empty.”  Gonoroah laughed, “Sometimes it’s the commotion and complications that give life the most meaning.”  “Well, I’ve been married for over forty years and I have three grown children.”  After those words Jan got up to check on the crab cages.  Perhaps it was the day that it was unfortunately there weren’t crabs in the cages.  He realized that Gonoroah was a different person that he was and he didn't feel remorse for that difference.  When he sat back down Gonoroah was reeling in her line.  “I’m impressed.”  She reeled in the fish herself Jan grabbed the line as the fish reached the surface.  “Blue-Spotted Grouper not my favorite fish.”  “I'll take your word for it, I'm here for the fishing but I'll let you keep what I catch..”  “I'll tell you what I’ll unhook the fish and let you put it back in the water.”  Jan grabbed a pair of work gloves.  “Here put these on grab the fish and toss it into the water.”  Gonoroah put on the gloves grabbed the flailing fish and tossed it as hard as she could.  “That was fun” she said taking off the gloves and handing them back to Jan.  

Momentarily they were quietly sitting with their lines cast into the water.  Gonoroah was the first to speak, “I did get my nursing license.”  Gonoroah confided to Jan in return he shook his head, “You should be proud of yourself.”  “I’ll tell you a secret about Nurses.” Jan looked skeptically to Gonoroah her eyes were full of fire a kind of life that he hadn’t seen in her up until this point.  “Nurses are a bunch of bitches!”  Gonoroah’s secret made Jan laugh and it seemed to break the tension between them.  “Why would you say a thing like that?”  “Don’t get me wrong us nurses save lives, wipe asses, take hell, follow orders, and at times get overworked like horses in a race but are they the biggest bunch of bitches that ever existed on god’s green earth.”  “You must be talking about yourself.”  “Sometimes! I do have to admit to myself though I’m a nurse educator and worked in a supervisory role for a long time I tend to have the need to be hands on and I have heard just about every excuse in the book.  I thought that when I was a model that people couldn’t possibly be more temperamental.”  Jan crossed his arms disagreeing with her, “The nurses that treated me were like godsends from heaven.”  Gonoroah wagged a finger at Jan, “Don’t get me wrong we love our patients for the most part and there are some that make you laugh till you cry and others cry without laughter.”  “It seems like you like you career choice”  They were quiet again after those last words Gonoroah lit another cigarette and tears streamed down her cheeks.  Jan was never the most comfortable around emotions.  He clammed up like a schoolboy on his first day of school not sure how to respond. 

He began by clearing his throat, “I’ll tell you this much. I worked in the shipping industry for a long time and there were a lot of people that came and went some worked there nearly as long as I did.  There were a few that I spent more time around then I did my wife and while we worked we were like brothers.  Many of our wives had kids at the same time.  I hate to admit it but on my last day when I walked to my car tears were streaming down my face and it was partly because of the work but mostly because I knew that I would never see those few that became like a second family to me ever again.”  Gonoroah related to Jan’s words of comfort, “It’s the work that keeps me going because god knows that I don’t have the personal things in my life to fill up my spare time.”  Jan felt compassion sitting on the side of his old high school girlfriend.  He placed a hand over hers knowing that for him that was a bold move.  She wiped her cheeks then tapped the top of Jans hand, “thanks for caring.”  With that he retracted his hand and started to laugh.  Gonoroah took out the band that held her hair in a ponytail waving her hand through her hair.  Jan looked the other way feeling guilty looking at another woman.  He admitted to himself that he had a soft spot for her.  She stood in front of him, “What do you think about going for a swim?”  “What?”  He responded turning his head standing up “I’ll be honest with you Gonoroah I don’t think that it’s a good idea for you to be swimming in the water and it’s not that I don’t think that you can’t swim.”  She reached for his hand, “I read about what happened.”  “What are you talking!”  She cut him off quickly, “Your daughter drowned.”  Jan sat back down it was something that he tried hard not to think of.  Grace was Faith’s twin sister she drowned after slipping on a rock falling into the water.  It was a part of the beach that he brought his daughters to that was full of rocks and dangerous tides.  He felt comfortable with keeping his daughters safe and one day when he allowed his daughters to walk ahead of him Grace leading the way she slipped on a piece of sea weed falling into the water where there was a rapid eddy.  They never recovered her body.  He became quiet looking the other way.  “I think that we should head back.  Be thankful that you caught a couple of good fish.”  Gonoroah didn’t like that response she stood in front of Jan looking down to him.  She was quite authoritative placing a finger under his chin pointing lifting it until they made eye contact.  “It’s not easy losing someone that you love especially a child, the hardest part is coming to terms with yourself without taking all the blame.  Unfortunately for me death is a part of a nurse’s life.  Death of patients isn’t the death of a child but there were some that broke me down like I never thought possible.”  She refocused herself speaking strongly, “My point is that you shouldn’t want to end our day fishing because I brought up something that hurts.  In case you haven’t noticed that is what we have been doing most of our time while not catching fish.”  Jan noticed that Gonoroah had caught another one, “You’re the one catching the fish.”Gonoroah decided to not reel in the fish taking off her top smiling at Jan then jumping in the water.He shook his head in astonished disbelief because she held up well.

She swam in the water while Jan reeled in the line.  The water was temperate and the sun shining down as if god approved of the time that they were spending fishing together.  Gonoroah circled the boat then grabbed the rail on the side of the boat and climbed back in.  Jan was sitting after unhooking the fish holding up a towel looking the other way. She grabbed the towel standing in front of Jan blocking his view so that he couldn’t look away.  He tried not to but he smiled.  “Not bad for an old lady?”  “I aint saying a word.”  She grabbed her top and put it back on before sitting on the side of him.  Gonoroah refilled her glass with wine, “I needed a swim you know the water is refreshing.”  “I believe you but I prefer just to fish and stay dry.”  “I had them worked on last year.”  “What are you talking about”  “Them!”  She looked down.  “I didn’t have implants just tightened and lifted.” “Are you expecting a reaction from me?  I’m an old married man what do you want?”  She looked seriously at him, “Nothing?”  “What do you mean nothing?”  “Forget it I’m guessing that you never learned how to give compliments.”  He took a sip of beer then shrugged his shoulders remaining quiet.  She was quiet as well.  It remained that way for some time.  In some ways she was relieved not that she would have regretted herself but she felt relieved that Jan had enough respect to hold his own self standards. “You know most men would have wanted to do something.”  Gonoroah said somewhat defensively.  He looked to her raising an eyebrow, “Wanting and acting on the want are two different things.”  His hand shook a little and she noticed it.  Responding quickly she reached forward and held his hand.  Surprisingly he didn’t pull back they were quiet.  “I wasn’t at first but I am glad for this day.” Jan said surprising her. 

A couple of hours later they arrived back at the docs.  Gonoroah helped Jan secure the boat to the moor.  It was fishing season with the plan to keep the Boat in the water throughout the summer.  She put her hair back into a ponytail lifting her arms up again like she was a mermaid.  Jan smiled, “A siren trying to take me out to sea.”  “It’s a good thing that you didn’t go into the water.”  She walked up to him, “So this is it?”  He looked seriously into her eyes they were welling up.  They both recognized the seriousness of their meeting.  “We will probably never see each other again.”  Gonoroah said “I know.” Jan replied she grabbed his arm reached in and gave him a kiss on the lips.  He didn’t pull back.  “Take care of yourself will you?  He said to her.  “You do the same!” She replied and they parted ways.  The drive home for Jan was tougher than he thought it was a day fishing with someone that he hadn’t seen in well over forty years.  She had broken his heart when he was young and full of life and he felt part of that pain become new.  It was the first time that he had seen another woman naked or kiss someone else besides his wife in almost the same amount of time.  He was void of guilt but not of sadness with another final goodbye.  Shortly after he arrived home he unpacked the fish that he had caught surprising Joanna because it was a lot of fish.  After putting away the fish Joanna went inside to make dinner Jan sat on the porch drank a beer thankful that he had a good day.

Woonsocket Wilderness

A group of retired old men met at a local diner during the weekdays for breakfast.  During these times they would discuss everything under the sun and solve the complex problems of the universe. “You know Woonsocket was once known for its wildlife.” Old Billy says as he takes a sip of his coffee.  “What wildlife, don’t you mean night life?  Oh but our savior Kevin K. Coleman came to our rescue and took that away.  What a way to rally the troops!”  John a retired postal worker added into the conversation. “John quit being a fresh! Besides, who wants to raise kids in a town that has nothing but bars?  You remember how it was.”  “Yeah Billy, but was it better then or now?” John questioned with a smirk on his face.  “You got a point but still! Anyways, I was meaning to talk about Woonsocket wildlife, because Woonsocket used to be known for 1 particular species.  Before I was rudely interrupted I was saying that as a matter of fact, I heard the day that the St. James hotel burned down a guy had one of them Woonsocket seahawks in a cage.  Them things are near to extinct now but he had one of them.  The thing got out of that there cage and knocked over his ashtray and the cigarette that started the fire.” Billy finished his coffee and motioned for his waitress Constance to re-fill his coffee. 

The door into the diner opens.  “Morning Joe” The regular morning breakfast group says.  Joe takes his seat, “Good morning darling, I’ll take my coffee and an order of raisin toast.” “Sure thing Joe.”  “One more thing Connie, is there anyway you can ask your dad not to burn my toast today?”  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t” John nudged Joe with the back of his fist. “Get a load of the jibberish that Billy’s talking about today.He’s talking about something called a Woonsocket seahawk.”  Joe strokes his chin and laughs a little.” So you mean that you’ve never heard of the Woonsocket seahawk?  That’s what caused the fire at the St. James hotel. The guy that owned it fell asleep with a cigarette lit. He left the door to the cage open and the thing knocked over the ashtray onto his mattress.  Poor thing died in the fire.”  John made a face, “that’s what Billy said, I think that your both full of it.”  Billy shook his head up and down and felt the need to get back into the conversation.  “Nope that’s the story and it’s the truth.  Ray you heard the same thing right?”  So far Ray a retired policeman was quiet. 

Ray began to talk.  One thing to note is that though Ray was a retired policeman he always had aspirations of being a speaker or preacher, or something public.  He had a bad habit of talking and using his hands in shaking and sweeping motions, to some it could include a slap or two when he got passionate about something.  He sort of resembled the pope benedict taking light in that fact. “I was on patrol the day that the St. James Hotel burned down.  I remember the morning, it was quiet I had given out a couple of tickets to some people speeding on Harris ave.  I remember getting the call from dispatch and then seeing the smoke in the air.  The good thing was that nothing else caught on fire because that was a pretty big building.  But yeah, I remember hearing that a bird knocked over the ashtray that started the fire.  I even remember seeing a fireman carry out a birdcage, said it was in the room where the fire started.”

Billy happy as a clam looked over to John laughed a little and said, “Well there you go!” John looking a little angry at the odds of the crowd fought back, “Just because they found a cage doesn’t mean it was a stupid Woonsocket seahawk.”  Ray put out both hands and said,”Woah oh don’t be angry just because your wrong.”  “I’m not angry, I’m just sayin that there aint no such thing as no Woonsocket seahawk.  Constance go get your father!”  Constance was in the middle of making her coffee refill rounds.  The old men loved Constance.  She was quick and always in a good mood, not to mention was a pretty woman.  If she did have one flaw, it was that she had a slight hint of a mustache, but these old men weren’t so superficial.  Constance or Connie was in her early 30’s as her parents had her late in life. The old men liked how when she talked to them they felt like they were the only person in the room.  She liked good tips, so attention seemed to be part of the job.  She opened the door to the kitchen and called for her father to come out front. 

“Phil, I need you to solve something for me.” John said.  It was easy to see the heightened frustration in his demeanor.  “These guys are ganging up on me today telling me some stupid story of a Woonsocket seahawk.  Ever heard of it?”  Phil was a bit of grump and in his late 70’s but moved like a man in his 40’s.  He sat down on the opposite side of the counter.  “Oh yeah I remember that old Woonsocket seahawk, pesky bastards. You know one of them started the fire that burned down the St. James hotel!”  The group except for John erupted in laughter.  “I aint laughin! You bunch of miserable bastards.” John got up angrily and took a few steps toward the door.  Ray stood up and swept his hands in musical fashion. “Cmon Johnny, you can’t be mad.  We’re not mad.  As a matter of fact were happy. You see hahahaha.”  “Your laughin at me”  “No… were not laughing at you, were laughing with you.” Ray said sarcastically and he sat back down. Billy the oldest and unofficial leader of the group spoke, “John, quit being a baby and sit back down.” “Yeah sit back down.” The chorus of the other three added. “I don’t care what you do just pay your bill first.” Phil spoke before he headed back to the kitchen shaking his head in disbelief.  “How the hell can an old man act like a child?” The group heard being yelled from the kitchen area. “You better not order toast today John.” Joe said and the group laughed. 

The door to the diner opened again.  “Morning Norman!” the group except for John called.  Norman a heavily decorated retired Naval officer walked into the room.  Norman was in his 80’s but walked with strength and dignity.  Although angry, John always respected Norman’s opinion.  “I have a question for you” John slowly started to speak.  “If I were to say Woonsocket seahawk, what would you say.”  “I owned one.” This time there was no laughing but acknowledging eye engages and smiles.  John was quiet this time and trying to calm himself.  “When you say that you owned one what do you mean?”  John started to do his best impression of an investigative reporter.  “I mean that during the War a bunch of us sailors brought some seahawks with us to Woonsocket.  During the war I was stationed in the Pacific.  A group of us wanted something to remind us of our time over there.  Seahawks were about the fiercest flying sea creatures and a local had captured a bunch of them.  He gave us them for free.  We weren’t supposed to take them, but our superiors looked the other way.  Woonsocket was a fun town then and it’s where we went to celebrate.  Some of the dolts let the birds go, and soon the term Woonsocket Seahawk was adopted.”  “How come I don’t remember hearing anything about them or seeing any?” John asked.

“It was a secret because we weren’t supposed to bring them here and something that my commanding officer negotiated to keep quiet.  Soon enough though, they began to take on a life and history of their own.”  John’s mood lightened and he finally felt like he was uncovering a good story.  “So if this is all legend, where are they today?” “Buy my breakfast and I’ll tell you the full story.”  “Hey Constancinople, Normans breakfast will be paid for by me today, let him have what he wants.”  “Oh big spender Johnny want to pay for mine too” Ray said and Joe seconded.  “What am I made of money? Pitch in to pay for Norman’s breakfast since you all are going to listen to his story too.”  Bill fidgeted a bit reached for his wallet and dropped a $20 bill on the counter, “You miserly sons of bitches, what ever this buys including mine is what it buys. You guys are always hands out and never hands in.”  “Bill you’re a gentleman and a scholar.” Joe quickly countered, but didn’t hesitate to accept his breakfast toast and coffee to be paid for.  Of course Bill wasn’t angry, but he hated bickering about money.  It’s one of the reasons why he didn’t listen to local am radio.  When he did he’d only listen to one local radio show, and that was because the fool that hosted the program did impersonations and sang songs and was different than the other hosts.  Bill liked the perspective and life that charisma and honesty brings.

Bill had finished his coffee a few minutes prior and had a thirst.  He held up his glass, “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.”  They called over Constance to order their breakfast.  “Connie where were you 50 years ago when I was on the market” Billy said with all the charm that he could muster.  “Where were you yesterday when all the customers were grumpy?” Connie replied.  ”Good one!” Ray pointed to her and motioned back to Billy “If I were her husband I wouldn’t let her around good looking fellas like us.”  She winked at Ray and took his order. 

Norman ordered breakfast and lunch for later.  He figured why not take advantage of a good opportunity.  He could tell stories at anytime to just about anyone that he wanted to.  Discipline and personal preference gave him the right temperament and ego that needed no stroking.  For this reason he was mostly a man of little words.  Today was different and he welcomed the conversation. Meanwhile; Constance completed her order taking and coffee refills and headed for the kitchen.  As she went into the kitchen Phil popped his head out through the double doors.  For years Phil and Norman held an unspoken rivalry.  Phil served in the Marines and Norman the Navy, this made rivals of sorts.  Years ago, Billy made the observation to Joe in explaining their situation was like they were brothers that lived in the same house, but spent their time in different rooms. They only really talked when they were in the dining room together.  In this case, it was true.  They both held respect for one another, but were men of discipline.  “I want to know when Norman starts his story.” Phil said to his daughter. 

Constance briskly walked back out front and told Norman to hold his story until after breakfast is served because her dad wanted to hear it.  Norman just nodded his head in response.  The group swayed in their seats at the non spoken enormity of the gesture.  Changing the subject to fill the silence and time John started to speak, “So I’m in traffic yesterday around the time when the school gets out and I’m looking at the kids walking home from school.  You know not the first ones that are walking home but the ones that start walking 15 minutes after school gets out.” He starts to get red in the face as he is talking and wipes his mouth with a napkin and crunches it in his hand. “So I’m looking at these kids and they got pants sagging like they took a wet poop in them and were walking with a limp. I’m thinking these kids don’t have a clue.  I’ll tell you this, they might be kids but I don’t like any of them.”  “Tell me about it. I have neighbors who have kids like that.  Five years ago they were good kids, but now it’s like every other word out of their mouth is motherfer this and motherfer that. I’d like to rinse their mouths out with soap.” Joe says in disgust.  “John we both know what it’s like living near the projects, its the same situation but different today.  We dressed better, but remember that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god.  They’re still just kids.  It’s a lack of parental discipline and the influence of a bad neighborhood.  When you add all of that tv and computerized business and then you got today’s culture. We had the service and the church and school was even different then.  It’s sad because I’ve seen generations of this.  Most of the kids are good, just looking to fit into something.  Some out grow their awkwardness, and some make victims of the awkward ones.”  Ray comments while waving and ringing his hands.  “I agree Ray, but they’re letting everything go to hell and I can’t stand it.  At least in the old days, the mills provided jobs to some of the lost ones.” John exclaimed and finally releases his napkin.  “What are you going to do?  Things change but stay the same.  These kids will eventually learn and probably the hard way, just like a lot of people that we know. All I can say is this, if I were a kid and got into a fight I want to fight one of them low pants kids.”  Joe finalized.  There was a laugh around the group and a sigh of frustration as well. 
Breakfast was served to the group and Phil had the other cook handle the orders.  “Norman, you can tell us the story now.” Bill announced.  Norman began his story, “Well, as I said earlier a group of us sailors got some seahawks while we were stationed on the pacific coast.  We got them for free with the cages and brought them back with us.  I stayed with some relatives in the North End and Elle slept in her cage.  That’s what I named my bird.  She ate just about whatever I gave to her but mostly small rodents.  I’ll tell you that there’s no handling with kid gloves on this one.  You need thick leather ones.  Their talons were sizeable and beaks sharp.  Needless to say, these birds were never meant to reside in Woonsocket or to be personal pets.  We were brave soldiers, not necessarily smart men.  Anyway, eventually the birds became too much for the owners to handle so some let them loose. On the other hand I kept mine, because I was good with a bird like Elle.  You’d be amazed at how a man and a bird of prey can form an attachment.

Well, it soon became 1950 and I was shipped to Korea.  I built a coop and kept it in the city.  Everyone knew each other then and was ok with the bird staying in the coop.  My brother Dave was in charge of taking care of the bird when I was gone.  In truth there was no promise of my return because from what we heard, Korea was bad.  I made my peace with Elle and said my goodbye’s to my family.  I was deployed to the Korean pacific and by the grace of god, I lived to come back. 

By the time that I had come back in 1953 unfortunately some things had changed.  While I was gone, it appears that the loose birds had begun a dominance war and were multiplying.  My bird Elle, was stolen by some drunk thinking it fun to steal things.  I knew who it was because he was eying Elle for some time before I was deployed.  Thou shalt not covet doesn’t apply to people that don’t care about anything but themselves.  Anyway, that was one of the things that I was really angry about and the drunk was already near death by the time I returned.  In rememberance I got a tattoo of Elle on my chest but it looked like an eagle, so that’s that I told people that it was.  But so you all know, it’s really a tattoo of Elle.”  The group was silent and stunned with the candor and openness of the self revealing story so far.  “Don’t let me stop you all from eating.  I’m going to continue with my story.” 

“Elle was no longer my bird, but Woonsocket was well underway in its wildlife fight.  When I was deployed, the birds that got loose started to nest and develop territories.  At the time the seagull population was quite large.  Quicker than seemed possible, the seagull population disappeared in the city.  They were still there when I got back and it was something to watch.  A seagull is a pretty big bird but they would get plucked out of the sky by these Woonsocket seahawk.  I’d say that I felt a bit guilty, but I must admit it was fun to watch.  The people in the city were already alarmed, but no people were hurt and their pets were still safe.  Soon though, the well known turkey vultures that you see on top of the buildings today were in battle with the seahawks.
The territorial battles between the Woonsocket seahawks and turkey vulture should have been something for the record books.  I don’t know where all of the turkey vultures came from but they seem to be flocking to the city.The Woonsocket seahawk is a very protective animal so these battles would be flying collisions of violence.  The Woonsocket seahawk was slightly larger in size but the turkey vultures would gather in numbers.  It wasn’t that rare to wake up one morning walk or drive down the street and see lots of bird feathers bits of talon and bird parts scattered everywhere.  On more than one occasion, I’d find severed turkey vulture heads on the side of the road.  The Woonsocket seahawk was a smarter bird than the turkey vulture and when they were wounded would try to hide and die in solitude.  I wouldn’t be so surprised if whole seahawk skeletons could be found today.  Well, some time went on and things started to simmer down.  All wars end and that applies to nature as well.  By the late 50’s there appeared to be a natural agreement between the Woonsocket seahawk and the turkey vulture.  There were barriers of where each species could be seen.  Some of the Woonsocket residents started hunting the seahawk because of their menacing nature.  By 1962 when I retired from the Navy, a new type of bird started to fly the skies in the Woonsocket.  Since I was involved with the introduction of the seahawk and history, I kept in contact with a Navy biologist.  One of the local residents shot one the new birds with a 22 and brought it to me.  I brought the carcass down to the Navy biologist.

The new bird was a weird sort.  It had the size and symmetry of the Woonsocket seahawk, but the head of a turkey vulture, it was a dorky looking thing.  During the examination of the animal the scientist came to the conclusion that it was a hybrid species.  He was baffled actually because it wasn’t thought that these two species of bird could interbreed.  However; the proof was evident in the carcass of the bird.  It was then that the complications of my groups original celebratory trophy taking had its consequences.  Unlike the turkey vulture or Woonsocket seahawk the newly classified sea vulture was had a different set of behavior habits and territorial boundries. These were a resourceful bird but dangerous as well.  At first, when local residents had contact of this new species they called them gutter birds.  For some reason this new bird wasn’t as menacing to other wildlife but went for the easier food source; trash.  I mean don’t get me wrong, it was still a predator, but seemed almost seagull like in its like for trash.  It really became a nuisance in the city.  By 1965 things started to change in Woonsocket and so did the people’s temperament in relation to birds such as the Woonsocket seahawk and Sea vulture.  So, it was agreed upon that these birds needed to be eliminated.  Of course I understand their sentiment, but I disagreed with their judgement.  Soon enough though, every drunk with a gun was at it taking target practice with the poor birds. 

Remember that it’s Woonsocket, so nothings really a science and remember the source of who was hunting them.  Sure enough though, by 1970 it was hard to find these birds.  I wasn’t so sentimental on the seahawk though I did bring one here and was sentimental about her.  I knew that there was a large population of them on the west coast so in following the biologists lead we didn’t aim to capture them. However; the sea vulture was a new species that was still a mystery and for scientific reasons was worth saving.  We set up nests on my property.  It was actually a bunch of old tents that I had gotten for free from a military depot.  My lawn stunk a bit because I used old fish heads and fish tails to lure them in.  Remember, I said that they liked food that they didn’t have to work for.  There was a netting system created by the biologist to keep them trapped in the tent once they were inside.  A few weeks had passed and luckily we captured about a dozen of them.  My biologist friend took them from that point and brought them in for research.  That’s my story of the Woonsocket seahawk and sea vulture!”

The breakfast group were mesmerized with the detailed and enthralling description of Normans story.  During the story the men stopped eating their breakfast, not out of loss of appetite, but out of not wanting to miss any part of the story.  John was the first one to speak, “Norman why’d you stop your story so long ago?  Didn’t you keep in contact with your scientist friend?” “Occasionally” “So what happened to the birds?”  John inquired.
“He kept some in captivity for research and let some free in the coastal area of one particular city, but that’s been secret. Anyway, from all I know the Woonsocket seahawk is no longer the Woonsocket seahawk.  The one that started and died in the St. James hotel fire was the last time that I heard of one in this area.  So, that is the story of the Woonsocket seahawk.”  “Show us your tattoo!” John said like a belligerent child.  Norman looked at John a little strangely and unbuttoned his collared shirt and showed his tattoo that spanned across his chest.  “Well it does kind of look like an eagle” John opined.  No one in the group Phil included who was still seated spoke.  John was the only one that questioned the story.  “Alright, so if this bird was loosed into the along a coastal city, which one is it, are they still around, what do they eat, and why don’t they talk about it?”  The group started coughing and murmuring. Norman lifted a hand for them to calm down and like clockwork, they did!  “First, they got released near Fall River the battleship cove area.  The Braga bridge seemed like a good spot for their original release.  They are still around, but as it turns out they are nocturnal creatures.  I’m sure that somewhere along the lines people talk about them, but they aren’t hazardous to people and might even help them in some way.”  “How’s that?” “Well as it turns out the sea vulture is the number one predator of jelly fish, and the beach community there seem to like that fact.  They keep the jelly fish population down and stay out of the way of people during the daytime.  This resourcefulness has helped them to not be hunted as they were here in Woonsocket.  That is the end of my story. Now don’t you feel lucky?”  “One last question Norman, I’ve known you for decades why have you never spoken of this?”  “Because till now I don’t talk, I’m in my 80’s and it seem the right time to blab.  My only other time was with Boats my friend that passed away, but we served together and he knew already.” 

With that Constance filled up a new cup of coffee to go for Norman and handed it to him.  He didn’t drink anything from start to finish of his story.  Phil finally stood looked Norman in the eye and said, “Good story.  Tomorrow breakfast is free.”  Phil walked back to the kitchen.  The rest of the group was pretty much speechless.  They did start to finish their cold breakfast though.  “That was a good story” Bill said.  A few minutes had passed and it was about time to leave. “Norman it really was a pleasure to have heard that story, I felt like I learned something today.” John said questioning himself for being angry earlier. Ray stood up and figured to break the seriousness.  “John, you know you got off of paying for breakfast today, but if you want to pay for mine tomorrow, I’ll tell you a good story.”  The group looked at each other expecting something good except for John.  “Oh yeah, what story would that be?”  “Well of the time that I arrested Boo Boo Steamer, but that he bent the bars with his bear hands and walked out of the Woonsocket Police Station.” Ray said shaking his hands free. The group laughed and John did too but murmured under his breath.  “I don’t recall a time when we all were so quiet and ready to leave.” Billy said “Yeah, it feels like we just went to church” Joe commented, and the group left the diner together that day.

Emotional Wounds

We sat in the café drinking our coffee.  I ate a croissant while she took small bites out of her bagel.  “We need to talk” She started off the conversation saying.  I placed my hand over her hand softly looking into her almond shaped eyes, “I’m here to listen.”  Had this conversation taken place years prior when we were married a knife would have been on the end pointing in my direction.  Luckily years of reclusive ness dulled the emotion but not the memory.  It was the first time that we had spoken since our separation; she still had her beauty and magnetic breathtaking presence.  Unspoken sensitivity has always been something that reigned me in with such force that I never wanted to escape from its air tight wrapping.  Her curly brown with blonde highlighted hair had grown long passing her shoulders with a few locks covering the edges of her eyes.  She grabbed on tightly to my hand, which surprised me because when we separated it was not something that I wanted nor could I prevent. “What is it?” I asked

When we were married I thought that we would have several kids grow old under the sun and live a long life together.  Had I been in control and not subject to my own personal demons or her subjected to the will of others things might have turned out different.  Since our separation I had given up the bad habits that plagued my life and learned to live in solitude.  Moistness formed teardrops and trickled down her plump cheeks. I was caught in the moment otherwise I might have questioned the situation because when we were separated she was cold like ice emotionless almost as if she was someone completely different.  She licked her lips and wiped one of her eyes,

“I’m getting a divorce.”  I let go of her hand nonchalantly and took a sip of my coffee absorbing the moment.  I wasn’t sure what she was expecting from me.  Within days of our separation I drove by the house and saw her hand in hand with Sue a man with a girls name who was an old high school friend that apparently lost his moral compass.  When I drove by I held a mason jar with a firefly inside opened the car door placed it on the lawn yelled in frustration and drove off.  My face reddened with the memory I became firm.  I always told her that marriage often means that there will be times when your swinging in the air fighting both each other and one self.  My one word reaction came out as “Oh”.  I wasn’t sure if she was expecting something more out of me and I was always open.  During our marriage I never put up walls and was always willing to do what it took to make good things happen.  I realize that to some it made me appear as sniveling and weak but I thought that my malleability made me durable and able to conquer any obstacle.  She flicked one of her curly locks from her eyes and started to talk in a tremble.

“Sue is seeing someone else and told me that he wants a divorce.”  I knew the feeling and I felt anger and hurt deep within.  I understood that having patience left me open to these kind of things for some reason I was always a good punching bag and took the hard hits and remained strong like a brick house.  “It’s been nearly a decade since we last spoke”  I said to her.  She smiled and a twinkle in her eyes appeared.  “A lot has changed” She replied.

I kept my distance after our separation moved to a neighboring town and never returned or passed by our old house.  “Why contact me?”  She took a deep breath, “You always knew the right things to say.”  She looked at me full of emotion and smiled.  I tried to fight myself and remain unexpressive but it was involuntary I smiled because whatever it is she had it.  I call it hooked because I was caught by her emotional lure.  “Tell me about your life” I said to her.  “Sue and I started a marketing company eight years ago.” I took a sip of my coffee, “Was your company successful?”  “Actually yes it has been very successful so much so that we bought a small building downtown and hired a small staff.”  I felt bitter because when we were married no matter how hard I tried she would never go along on joint ventures and was adamant that we keep everything individual. “What’s going to happen to your business?”  Her demeanor changed slightly, “That is still yet to be decided.”  I didn’t want to intrude with my own opinion took a bite out of my croissant consuming without words.  Being there in person it was surreal and not what I expected and somehow I felt like I was gypped out of whatever it is that I should have had the right to have revenge for.  “That’s not all.”  She said and opened up her purse then took out a picture of what appeared to be her elementary school aged son.  Considering that she never liked children and fought tooth and nail with me on not wanting them I bit the inner portion of my cheek and sat silently.  He looked like his father and it caused my stomach to turn. I had enough and felt that I showed enough patience more than what should have been afforded.  In the decade since we divorced I changed in ways that made me more solid unafraid and physically hardened.

“What are you expecting from me?” I barked sharply unable to hide my hurt.  “I thought that you would be happy to know that I have done well for myself.”  I looked into her eyes and though I always felt what was natural for me I had become someone that I believe to be greater.  “I never questioned that you would do well for yourself” I replied.  After taking a sip of my coffee I tapped the top of her hand.  “You look as beautiful as I remember but there were things between us that didn’t end well and I gave and gave until I had nothing to give and that proved to be not good enough.  I hope that you can understand why I can’t finish this conversation.” 
With that I stood and walked to the exit of the café while she remained seated in silence.  Somber was the best word to describe the mood void of thought as I drove out of the parking lot. I looked through the window of the café where she remained seated making eye contact from afar following the movements of my car.

Several weeks had passed and I continued with a bit of a chip on my shoulder from our meeting.  Life continued and being a man if that’s not meant to be a damning term I manned up and continued with my ordinary routine.  Being near wintertime I walked to the back of my property and started to saw a few trees to split and prepare for winter.  I had several trees cut into sections when I noticed a figure walking toward my direction in the distance.  I shut off the saw and recognized her as she came closer.  She walked to where I was working and I was full of wood chips and sweat.  A decade had passed since our separation but there lingered that familiarity that urged me to soften. 

There were reasons for me to remain rigid and so I did not talk.  She smiled, “I never pictured you to be a lumberjack.”  “The wood is used for winter heat.”  I was wearing a t-shirt with my flannel covering a tree trunk.  “Your noticeably bigger.”  “I needed a good habit to replace my bad ones.”  I picked up the biggest tree section that I could carry on one shoulder and I’m guessing that it was well over two hundred pounds and nearly six feet in length.  First I bear hugged it lifted it on top of another log then squatted low tilted it on a shoulder and squatted it up and began to walk.  It might have been rude and showing off but I did have work to do.  She walked behind watching me power walk and struggle towards the end before I dropped the log where I intended the pile to be. 

“Is there a reason why you’re here and how did you find out where I live?”  “I looked you up online and didn’t think that you would be angry and didn’t expect you to walk out on me like that.”  Having a bad temper was never an attribute that I carried with me, being in work mode I was hyped up from the physical labor.  “Does it look like I’m in the mood to have a long winded conversation?”  Then I started walking back into the woods grabbed another log and walked to where I placed the other one.  She was standing still wearing a lightly colored flowery dress and she noticed that I quickly checked her out.  She was always quick on her feet squinted her eyes in what I was guessing trying to figure me out because she always could. 

“Your not angry with me are you?”  I dropped the log and walked back for another one.  Sure enough she was standing there in the same spot where I dropped the log. “I can do this all day” She said. “Me too” I replied and as I turned my back I smiled.  It was something that I shouldn’t do but I couldn’t resist.  Shortly after I returned with another log and placed it with the others I was winded needing a rest.  I walked to the house without giving her notice and she followed me in.  “Home” she said looking around my small cottage.  “I don’t have the luxury of owning a business.”  I washed my face and hands walked to my bedroom and changed my shirt.  I grabbed a couple of glasses and poured them full of chardonnay then sat at the table. 

She took a seat, “You drink wine?”  “I’m not the heavy beer drinker that you remember.  I drink a glass with dinner or to relax I never drink to get drunk anymore.  Why are you here?”  “I didn’t want our conversation to end like it did.”  She took a sip from her glass and so did I.  After breathing deeply and thinking of my words carefully I looked to her and began, “In the past when we were married I was like a puppy always happy to see you and follow you where ever you went.  I remember how frustrated you would get at times and how thankful you were that someone cared about you like I did.  At the end of all of that I wasn’t enough and the material you wanted more of the material and when I was empty handed you left me for a boy named Sue and I was the pauper left to whore the streets alone.” 

Listening to me speak to her directly she took those comments in stride looking at me firmly in what I was guessing to be thinking of a response.  “You’ve changed”  She said.  “I had no choice.”  “I used to always tell you that I wish that you were more of a man and now here you are.”  She was glowing but I wasn’t, “Time doesn’t heal all wounds I’ve kept myself busy to become stronger in other areas so that I don’t hurt and I’m not as ‘weak’ like I was thought to be before.”  After talking I drank my glass of wine then poured myself another needing to relax. 
She took a sip of her wine, “I’ve had my world turned upside down and I can understand how you feel.”  In some way I’m sure that she could understand that much but it didn’t change the past nor did it do anything more than poke holes in my defenses.  I chewed the inner part of my cheek and placed my hands behind my head.  “This conversation is ten years too late, you have a kid when all you did was fight me on how you didn’t want children, you left me for Lazy bum a smoke and not return the favor Sue.  How in the hell are you expecting me to want to come to terms with that?”  She shrugged her shoulders and was quiet.  “You used to leave me letters on how I couldn’t eat food because I was fat when I was a little sloppy but I am willing to bet that your soon to be ex husband is a sobbingly oaf.”  She laughed “He is” “This is some real shit” I told her flat out.  She took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.  “You smoke?”  “I picked it up along the way, want one?” 
Year’s prior I quit that nasty habit,  I took one and figured why not.  One cigarette wasn’t going to cause me to pick up a pack a day habit like before. We sat smoking cigarettes drinking wine and were quiet for several moments.  I wasn’t sure if she was expecting me to jump and rush to fill the uncomfortable silence like I always used to when we were together, because I wasn’t that same person.  “Where was this person ten years ago?”  “Locked up not allowed the freedom to be who he is or loved for who he is.”  “I was a bitch.”  “And I loved you for that.”  She was still attractive and her sleeveless dress showed her shapely arms.  She puckered her lips and squinted her eyes.  “Your not sad like you were at the café.” I said to her, “You made me angry when you left me flat” She replied.  “You did much worse to me and I was left for a very long time having to deal with those consequences and nothing to fill any of those holes with except for my own will to continue living.”  We both took sips from our wine.  She picked up the bottle and looked at the label.

“Dionysus Refined, I’ve never heard of that brand before.  I like the picture of the guy stepping on grapes with vines as a cape and a wine leaf crown.”  “Miss communication, I forgot that you own a marketing company.  One of my friends in town owns a wine and candle shop it’s called Dionysus Refined.”  “That’s catchy.”  “I talked to the owner he and his deceased wife came up with the concept of the store after greek mythology and though Dionysus was known as the fool Refined means that the fool isn’t a fool anymore he refined.  I like the maturation concept.”  After giving the explanation I shrugged and looked at her firm offering no further words.  She didn’t speak and it was quiet again. 

A moment later I said to her, “I related to my friend who had the deceased wife because that’s how I looked at you after we divorced.”  “What that I was dead?”  She asked.  “Well, to me you were and the lack of having you along with abruptly having a different life was death of everything that I loved and worked hard for.”  I looked down for a moment because I hadn’t expressed myself openly like this ever and I was talking to the woman that shattered me.  I was embarrassed to talk about what it was that was built up within me and I wasn’t convinced that it was right that I was giving.  After those words I was silent and took one of her cigarettes smoked and sipped my wine.

“I went to talk to my lawyer a couple of days ago”  She began speaking and I was silent. She lit a cigarette, “The business is going to be on the table and I’m not happy that it is but I will keep my house and Sue will have to pay child support.”  “That was our house I wouldn’t doubt that you will be able to keep it.”  With the mention of her current divorce I was silent and unsurprisingly detached from her situation.  “Why come back here to see me after all of these years and considering that you knew that I did everything that I could to save our marriage?”  She paused for a moment, I’m not sure if she ever had her own moments of thought of us or feelings but I did and the void of not having anything left me with a lot of time on my hands to mull and eventually come to terms with myself and my past.  No matter how many times I replayed my past, I always felt that while I’m not perfect I tried to be as good as I could.  I gave and gave honestly and openly and I proved to be a sucker for wanting to build a good life.  “I’ve thought about finding you several times through the years but never carried out those thoughts.  Sue proved to be quite controlling and then we had our son.”  “I wasn’t good enough to want to have kids with but Sue was?”  I said with sincere anger.  “It just happened.”  “That’s a crock!” I blurted  “I remember clearly that you always took the pill and we fought a million times because I wanted you to stop taking the pill not only for children but for your own health.”  “I was stubborn.” 
It was quiet for a moment.  “I appreciate that your here to visit and I’m sorry that your going through a divorce but I look at you and I can’t help but to be full of emotion and resentment.  I suffered while you went on with your life without a hitch.”  I stood up pushed in the chair that I was sitting in and opened up the door.  “I’m not leaving” She said.  “Well I’m going to finish lugging the logs to the pile that I created.  Feel free to drink more wine.”  I walked outside back into the woods grabbed a log and started back to drop off the log.  Close to an hour had passed and I carried all of the logs to the pile and noticed that she was still inside.  What I liked about the physical exertion was the quiet clarity.  When I first started I was angry and clouded with many thoughts brooding and most of them were fighting each other.  The heavy physical work calmed down the flow of anger until there was only work and then slowly finality and a glimpse of optimism appeared.  I walked to my front door and went inside of the house where she was cooking dinner. 

“What are you doing?”  “You said that I could stay.”  “No I told you that you could drink more wine and when did you learn to cook?” She flicked a loch of hair and held a spoon in my direction,  “I took classes because I wanted to network with group of business owners.”  I shook my head because I knew that she was resourcefully business savvy and that is something that the both of us would have done. “I went through your fridge and food cabinet.  Your neat, I trained you well.”  I slightly smiled  “What are you making?”  “Squash and shrimp ravioli with a garlic squash sauce.”  “You made the ravioli?”  “Yes and my secret for the dough is that I used a little bit of sour cream.”  I looked at her skeptically, “Thing have changed.”  I walked to my room grabbed clean clothes and took a shower.

Shortly I was cleaned shaved and changed.  She had set the table and was holding the one bottle of wine that served as a pinnacle of my cherished items.  I don’t know why I was surprised to see her holding that particular bottle.  “That’s an 80 year old bottle of wine.”  She smiled at me and winked, “I read the label.  Hermitage” She stood holding the bottle with a cork screw in the other hand.  Staring at me seriously she uncorked the top and placed the bottle on the table.  It could have been that she was testing me but I was still worked up from the heavy lifting, “I would believe that only you would have enough nerve to do that.  I won’t tell you how much it cost or how long it took for me to save to buy that bottle.” “I’m worth it” she smiled and I shook my head. 
“Why did you pick that bottle?”  “The name Hermitage suits you and I figured that you valued this above the others.”  That was classically her I thought, “It’s from the Dionysus Refined vintage wine brands and there is a story behind Hermitage wine.”  “Tell me about it.”  “Well, it’s a wine produced in France south of Lyon from the Syrah grape.  The wine was created by a French knight that returned home wounded after a battle in the Albigensian crusade in 1224.  He was given the authority by the queen of France to build a small farm to recover.  He lived as a hermit and developed his own wine.  Because of the thick tannin of the grape it takes a longer time to age.”  She started readying the plates of food after pouring the glasses of the expensive wine. 
“I never thought that you would turn out like this”  “You would be amazed at what happens when a man in solitary is left with no other option than to rot.”  She made a face, “Is that what really happened?”  “Yes!”  I quickly changed subjects because I did not want to fight.  “I’m surprised that you made dinner” I said to her.  “I didn’t expect you to avoid me and stay outside.  I noticed that you were busy working so I thought that you would appreciate a nice meal.”  She smiled at me and we sat.  We toasted our glasses.  I wasn’t ready to have dinner and I was angry that she opened up my best bottle of wine but I went along.  The meal was flavorful and not too filling.  I savored the wine and during the meal we didn’t talk very much.  I got up to clean the table and she placed a hand on my shoulder for me to remain seated.  She cleared the table and started to clean the dishes. 

“Why don’t you leave them there I’ll wash them later.”  “I’ll wash them since I made dinner in the first place.”  Without hesitation I stood on the side of her taking the dishes that she cleaned rinsed them grabbed a towel and dried them.  We never worked in unison like this when we were married.  In our motions I accidentally bumped up against her and she placed her hand on my hip to steady herself and we made eye contact.  There was something there and it was a serious moment causing me to take a step back.  “I think that I will let you finish the dishes.”  I sat at the table and lit a cigarette and swallowed a mouthful of my cherished Hermitage wine. 

It was unsettling and I thought about how gratifying it would be to have face-to-face time with her.  There were legitimate resentments and real barriers of suffering that I was put through.  I was rejected in a marriage that I worked hard to make lasting and she continued like I was an object that lost its luster.  Yet here she was after another failed marriage standing in my kitchen imposing her beautiful magnetism that I wasn’t sure that I could resist.  I wanted to know her angle and then cut the string and free myself from her line.  If she was going to be resurrected and waltz into my house then she better have a greater sense than living in the moment.  She sat at the table and lit a cigarette after cleaning the dishes. 

“Dinner was good” She said.  “I’ve never had squash ravioli the garlic brought out the flavor of the meal.”  “It’s my version of shrimp scampi.”  “You used to be a terrible cook.”  She smiled, “I’ve gotten older.”  “So have I.” I took a sip of the wine.  “How poetic that your sitting here drinking my prized wine that I held as a symbol of my status.”  She smiled waved her hand through her hair and lifted out her chest.  I squinted my eyes slightly and kept eye contact.  I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that if I were to impose my own charm we would have been in my bedroom a while before this point but that wasn’t my objective.  I wasn’t in my early twenties looking to score.  I wanted healing of what cost me and caused me unbearable suffering.  I deserved that much not because of what I put into our relationship but because my experiences and I learned that it is important to respect myself. 
“Why did you come here and stay when I went to finish my work outside and then make dinner?”  She paused for a moment, “I wanted good company.”  I didn’t want to fight with her so I went along with the conversation, “When we were married why did you start seeing Sue?”  I think that I caught her off guard because she tensed and clenched her wine glass.  “Things were different and I was different.”  I still didn’t have her angle other than the fact that I was easy to catch.  “Maybe that’s what separates you from me.” I started to tell her.  “I told you when we started to see each other that I was difficult to get along with.”  She said and started to smoke another cigarette noticeably out of her comfort zone.  I shook my head because it was bogus I decided to change subjects.

“What happened with Sue?”  “He started seeing one of the secretaries at work about a year ago and kept it hidden from me until I answered the front door and she was standing there.”  “Where was he.”  She flicked her nose up, “He was sitting at the dinner table drinking a beer eating dinner.”  “Did you expect it?”  “We were going through some tough times, our relationship wasn’t like when we were married.  You loved me and I loved you too but things were different.”  “You mean I lost my job and couldn’t find another one.”  “You could have gone back to your old one or worked a normal job.”  “It was more complicated than the surface.  Marriage is more than money and what you own.  I wanted to go back to college and either be certified for something different or get another degree.  We had the money to do it but you wouldn’t go along.”  She turned her head, “What happened after you answered the door?”  “The secretary told me that she has been seeing Sue for a year.  I flipped out screaming throwing everything that was within my reach at him.”  “Where was your son?”  “He was in his room.”  “Traumatic!”  “He’s been handling it well.” 

I didn’t want to talk about her child but I understood that kids are often traumatized by divorce.  She didn’t want to have my child but she had another man’s kid and that still left with shaking my head.  I sighed and continued to talk, “Work must have been difficult to continue.”  She put out her cigarette, “I took a leave of absence and fired the secretary.”  “How long ago was this?”  “Two weeks ago.”  “Where’s your son?”  “He’s with his grandparents.”  “The proper thing to tell you is that I’m sorry that your going through this but I have had my own world of hurt without much upside other than building what little I have for myself here.”  “She’s pregnant.”  With her last words I looked at her seriously.  “It hurts doesn’t it?”  She breathed deeply replying, “It seems that things turned full circle.”  “With the exception that you’re sitting here drinking wine sharing misery talking to the person that you rejected for a world that could offer you more things.”

I was hitting her with heavy built up angst while she was going through her own issues.  I decided to be myself and not her by taking the initiative when it was against everything that I was put through.  That was my weakness and hated the sacrificial lamb aspect that made me who I am.  I was always tough enough to take more than I dished out,  “I’m glad that you’re here” I said softly.  She smiled and lightened up her posture, “I wasn’t sure what to expect, I needed someone that wasn’t part of my world to talk to.”  

She stood up from her chair and walked to my side of the table and stood in front of me.  “I’m not the same as before” I said to her.  “Neither am I” she said and I stood and wrapped my arms around her and she cried.  I didn’t offer more than standing strong with my arms around her and running my fingers through her curly brown and blonde highlighted hair. I knew that she needed me at that time and it was what I needed for more than closure to all of the bad that tortured me after our separation.  After our embrace she looked into my eyes and leaned in for a kiss.  That is when I leaned back smiled and whispered, “Not yet.”  We both laughed!