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Old Town Pasadena – Part II

28 Saturday Jan 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in aging, exercise, dating, families, Fiction, FRIENDSHIP, romance, teenagers

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                                                            #

( Previously, Kristie was getting some unwanted attention at church. She called on Sam Reynolds, her boyfriend to help. He then decided they could both use a short vacation. They are on their way to a B & B in Pasadena.)

They stopped at a McDonalds on the way down to get some lunch and regroup. Sam pulled out his street map of LA.

“Okay, I think it’s right here.” He pointed.

“Alright,” Kristie replied putting some French fries in her mouth.

“I think we can, yes, get over the Grapevine down on the 405 and then branch over at the 210 to Pasadena. That should save us a bunch of LA traffic.”

“Sounds good,” Kristie said, “want me to drive?”

 Sam stole some of her fries.

“Uh, sure. You want?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll put the address into my phone for the GPS thing.”

Back on the road, they had traded places and it was Sam’s turn to snooze.

Kristie looked over at him. I love watching him sleep, she thought to herself. Actually, I love watching him anytime. A buff dude, Sam spent a fair amount of time in the gym keeping in shape. He would wear a turquoise cut off gym shirt that played up his bright blue eyes and she would just sigh. I am a lucky gal. Not everyone my age, divorced with two grown kids can say the same.

Driving along, her mind wandered back in time to her divorce. She had filed when she discovered her husband was cheating on her on his out-of-town trips. When she had confronted him with the evidence, he had just crumpled like an over-blown balloon. He had wanted reconciliation, but she had suspected this for a very long time. Who knew how many women it had been. She was done playing games.

Oddly enough, her two daughters continued to take his side for a long time and insisted she was being unreasonable. She learned to stop arguing with them about it. Phil was still in the LA area and her two girls still gravitated more to him. Although he had been the absent parent, always gone with work and trips and she had been the caretaker, they still seemed to care for him the most. She couldn’t understand it.

She sighed at the memories. However, since Sam had showed up on the scene, they seemed to be coming around more. They both enjoyed his easygoing manner and gentlemanly ways. He would kid them about this and that and they would both laugh hysterically. Like kids again, she thought. Just like kids again.

She consulted her cell phone again, the little arrows were starting to point toward the 210. Traffic began to slow and Sam woke up.

“We there yet, Mom?”

“Getting close. Look at this map again would you, I think the offramp might be the tricky part.”

Forty minutes later they were traveling south through Pasadena towards South Pasadena. The weather for late fall was sunny, crisp and clear.

“Hey, look at that bridge,” Sam called out.

Kristie pulled the car to the curb.

“Yeah, that’s the Colorado Street Bridge, been here a long time. Called the Jumper’s Bridge.”

“The what?”

“Jumper’s Bridge. Apparently, more people have jumped off that bridge than anything else around here.”

“Whew, good to know, I guess.”

They traveled through dense foliage next to the road as it curved around the soft hills of Pasadena. They could smell the faint scent of something burning. A few houses had chimneys and wispy trails of smoke escaped from the tops.

Sam looked at the map. “Think we’re almost there. It’ll be on the right.”

Abruptly a sign came into view and Kristie barely had time to signal and make a sharp right into a drive. The drive led up the hill and was edged with large trees and bushes. They pulled right into the parking lot and the three-story house came into full view.

“Wow!” Kristie let out as she pulled in.

It was a beautiful, turn of the century home that had been carefully restored. It had a peaked gable roof over a large front porch cluttered with easy chairs and occasional tables.

Sam reached over and popped the trunk while Kristie walked toward the house.  There were large plate glass windows on the front and the tops of each had clear decorative glass panels with lead scrolling. She went up the steps to admire the scalloped shingles on the outside.

She was touching one with a finger when the front door flew open, and a very large Bill Bass appeared.

“Kristie! Sam! You’re here!”

Bill squeezed Kristie in a bear hug and she momentarily stopped breathing.  

“Thanks, Bill,” she gave a little gasp.

“Go in, go in! Mialee!” he boomed, “they’re here.”

A little woman of about 5’3” came hustling around a corner and lead Kristie into the living room.

“You must be Kristie. I am Mialee.” She smiled and gave a tiny bow.

Kristie put out her hand for a shake. “Yes, I am. So nice to meet you.”

“Let me show you your room and then we do lunch.”

Kristie let herself be lead upstairs. Sam and Bill were still booming at each other down in the parking lot. Might as well take the opportunity to wash up, she told herself.

Mialee led the way to an enormous bedroom with a huge double bed covered in a white, fluffy comforter. “The bathroom is here,” Mialee pointed. “Lunch in about twenty minutes.”

“Good, thanks.” Kristie put down her purse and as soon as the owner was out of the room, she sat on the bed and began to bounce up and down. Then, she sank backwards into the comforter and let the softness enfold her.

Sam came into the room backwards holding suitcases in both hands.

“What are you doing darlin’? It’s not time for bed yet.”

“Sam, I might never move again,” she told him.

He laughed. “Okay, but more grub fer me.”

She sighed, pulled herself up reluctantly and went to wash her face and hands. The tantalizing smells from the kitchen started to waft their way upstairs as she descended the stairs.

She entered a very large dining room off of the living room. It had two big walnut tables set for lunch and turrets of steaming food were being put down. Mialee was helped by a guy that looked to be the cook and the table was rapidly full with various dishes. Suddenly, Kristie realized how hungry she was and that McDonalds was a distant memory.  

She began to serve herself.

“Wild mushroom soup,” Mialee pointed. “Long grain rice. Chops, stuffed chicken breasts,” she pointed at another bowls. “Rolls, butter. Would you like wine?”

Kristie waved it away. “Too early for me. Tonic water?”

“Coming up,” Mialee scurried away.

“. . . bought it when it was just a shack and have been rebuilding it for about ten years. Old guy finally ran out of money and Mialee was on the scene and just happened to have the ready to bail the guy out. I mean, he didn’t want to sell of course, but what could he do? Couldn’t afford the utility bill anymore.”

Sam nodded as Bill blathered on about the history of the house. Not so much to stop him filling his plate and shoveling in the goods.

Kristie cut into a very delicious pork chop and had a bite. That combined with the fluffy mashed potatoes and gravy and thin, green asparagus and she was almost in heaven. She chatted with some of the other guests around the table and admired the heavy crown molding that edged the top of the white plaster walls. Views of the Pasadena foothills could be seen through the enormous plate glass windows. She noticed a second building out back, a smaller, two-story affair.

“So, what’s that,” she pointed a fork at the building.

“Oh, that’s our overflow building. It gets too crowded here, we stuff them in over there.”

Kristie nodded.

“Yeah, and, um, Mialee’s sister lives there too,” Bill added through a mouth of mashed potatoes.

“What’s her name?”

He looked momentarily embarrassed. “Jen, yeah, uh, Jen.” He took a swig of his beer and his eyes slid over to Mialee.

Kristie grabbed a hot roll for buttering and glanced at him. Wonder what that’s about, she thought.

After the filling lunch, Kristie wanted to walk. She and Sam motored over to Colorado Blvd. to walk around the shops. The boulevard was festive and the city had already started to put up fairy lights on the overhead light standards. Pumpkins and signs of Thanksgiving could be seen in abundance. They ended up at Vroman’s book shop and wandered the shelves.

The store had a coffee shop so Kristie ordered her favorite…pumpkin latte. Sam couldn’t be persuaded to try anything stranger than a latte so Kristie gave up trying. They took their drinks to a table and sat.

She had found a cute book on cooking for the holidays and Sam was leafing through a new issue of Field and Stream. 

“So, the place is beautiful,” she commented to Sam. “Where did Mialee get the money to buy a place like that?”

“Ever the nosey one, aren’t you?” he gave her nose a little tap. “Well, apparently, Mialee had a restaurant in Thailand that was fairly successful, which she sold. Plus, she is divorced from an American GI and I believe, don’t quote me, she did pretty well in the divorce.”

Kristie nodded and sipped her latte.

“The place is probably mortgaged to the yin-yang so, let’s hope they stay successful.”

She raised her cup to that. “And the food is divine.”

“It is that, it is indeed.”

After window shopping, they drove back.  Kristie wanted to take a nap and Sam had plans to go out with Bill to a cigar shop. When they got back, Mialee’s daughter, Crystal was busy running back and forth with fresh towels. Her son, Daniel could be seen emptying trash cans.

“Looks like everybody gets to help,” Kristie whispered to Sam.

They wound their way around the two. Even Bill was busy, running a vacuum of all things. Kristie escaped to their room and closed the door. Throwing off her shoes and dumping her bag she fell face first into the giant coverlet and was soon fast asleep.

A couple of hours later, a groggy Kristie awoke from the sleep of the dead. She was disoriented a moment and didn’t know where she was. Looking around the room, she finally got her bearings.

What woke me up? She wondered and then heard it again. Voices drifting up from the kitchen.

“I told you no. How many times do I got to say it? No is no and why don’t you quit asking?”

There was a low murmured reply Kristie couldn’t hear.

“Jesus! I got to get dinner ready. If you’re not going to help, why don’t you go do something with yourself. I’m busy.”

There was the sound of a slamming door and then sounds in the kitchen. Mostly pots and pan getting banged around loudly. Kristie got up and went to wash her face in the lavatory. She combed her hair and changed her shirt.

Walking down the stairs, it looked like Sam was still not back. She remembered some hot tea fixings in the dining room. Quietly, she went in to make herself a cup. She could hear Mialee in the kitchen. Cup in hand, she gingerly pushed open the swinging kitchen door.

Mialee was standing at the sink, both arms stretched out straight, leaning against the porcelain. It looked like she had been crying.

“Oh, I’m sorry. . . “

Mialee jerked her head around and wiped her face with a shirt sleeve. “No, it’s okay. Just me being emotional. Did you have a good nap?”

“Oh yes, like a bear in hibernation. Your beds are great.”

Mialee walked out of the kitchen into the dining room. Kristie followed and watched while the woman made herself a cup of ginseng tea. Mialee gestured for Kristie to sit at the big table. The other guests were either still out sightseeing or napping upstairs.

“This is such a beautiful house…” Kristie started.

Mialee nodded. “Yes, and a great deal of work. You probably heard me with my sister, Jen.”

Kristie shrugged and sipped her tea.

“She, I, uh, both of us have put so much into this place.” She waved her hand around expansively.

“I am sure,” Kristie replied, “but your business seems to be doing so well.”

Mialee nodded. “It is doing well, but it has to do really well for us to make the mortgage and pay the bills. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything, but it is hard to make it in the restaurant trade.”

Kristie nodded. “I’m not expert, but I work at a credit union, and we see a lot of struggling owners. I guess it’s easy to lose your shirt in this kind of operation.”

Mialee sighed and wrapped both hands around her mug. “Jen used to help all the time with meals and maintenance. But then Bill showed up, they kind of . . .clashed and she got a job tending bar. Now, I hardly see her anymore. Then with her weird hours and these friends she brings home…I just don’t know.” Head down, the woman stared into her cup.

“Ah,” Kristie replied. A picture was staring to form. “And you don’t like her friends.”

Mialee shook her head. “No, not at all.” She sipped her tea some more. “Listen to me. I don’t know why I am telling you all this. You’re a guest! Time to get the dinner on. But, thanks for listening, Kristie. Bill talks about you and Sam all the time.”

“No problem,” Kristie replied. “Anytime. But now I think I’ll take a little walk before it’s time to start eating again!”

Mialee disappeared into the kitchen. Kristie grabbed her key, a cold bottle of water from the guest fridge and a sweater. She walked outside and saw the Ducati motorcycle parked next to the annexed building. There was no sign of Jen. Kristie walked down the driveway then a few blocks toward town. The leaves were turning bright red and yellow, and she was enjoying the sights and smells of fall. As she was returning, she noticed a little footpath close to the B and B that seemed to run from the street, up through the trees. Wonder where that goes, she thought.  

A little later Sam and Bill got back, and Sam smelled of cigar smoke. Kristie didn’t mind because she loved the smell. Even though she knew he shouldn’t be smoking, she decided to not nag. Sam had got them a video to watch for the evening, so she was content.

As dinner was served, they heard the loud roar of the Ducati as it sped off from the back of the house and left the property. Bill and Mialee exchanged glances. Kristie noticed but said nothing. Not really my business, she chided herself.

Later, dinner was done and Mialee and Bill were busy with clean up. Kristie and Sam got half-way through the movie in the big living room.  Both were tired and decided to go upstairs.

 Later, Kristie woke up and pawed at the side table for her water glass…empty.  Getting up, she decided to get a fresh bottle of Fiji water from the little frig downstairs. Quietly, she made her way down to the dining room and got a bottle. Something made her turn. Someone was standing next to the window smoking a cigarette.

She realized after a moment that it must be Mialee’s sister Jen. At first all Kristie could see was the glowing end of the cigarette.

“Oh,” she said, “you startled me.”

There was a little laugh, the young woman came forward.

“Yeah, I have that effect on some people.”

Mialee and her sister were about the same 5’3” in height and had the same coffee colored skin. That is where the similarity ended. Where Mialee had long hair tied in a pony, her sister had black hair cut in a jagged bob sticking out in angles all over her head. It was half purple and stood up in spots. She must use some killer gel, Kristie thought to herself.

She was dressed in tight, distressed jeans, over that a black leather jacket with chains and buttons everywhere. On her neck and everywhere skin showed, there were tattoos of all variety of pictures and colors. She wore heavy black eyeshadow and spikey silver jewelry in her ears, nose and neck. Reminds me of an anime character. Kristie thought absently.

“So,” Kristie commented, making conversation, “you must get off work very late.”

“Yeah,” the young woman replied, “the bar closes at 2 am and then there’s clean up.” She puffed on her cigarette. “You a guest here?”

“Ah, yeah.” Kristie started to inch toward the stairs. The girl had dark, intense eyes that were staring at her hard. She felt uncomfortable, almost like a question was hanging in the air. Somehow, she didn’t feel like waiting around until that question found a voice. “Well, back to bed.”

The eyes kept following her, the cigarette continued to glow in the dark. Kristie hustled back upstairs. She made sure the bedroom door was locked.

“What in the hell is that all about?” she mumbled to herself as she got back in bed.

“Wha. . .” Sam mumbled at her and then threw an arm over her. She smiled and snuggling up close to him, closed her eyes and was soon asleep again.

(Part III – Sam and Kristie have gotten to the B & B in Pasadena and are enjoying their visit with old friend Bill Blass and his girlfriend, Mialee. However, a sister seems to be a little less than friendly.)

Old Town Pasadena – A Sam Reynolds story

26 Thursday Jan 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in coffee, dating, families, Fiction, FRIENDSHIP, marriage, romance, teenagers

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Kristie sipped her coffee thoughtfully.

The pastor droned on and on. She could feel someone looking at her. Almost against her will, she turned her head slowly.

Frank, one of the other parishioners, at another table, was beaming at her. She managed a watery smile and turned her head back front. It was almost an act of sheer will to not look again.

Later, the pastor was fielding questions from parishioners. She turned her head back to that side of the room again. Frank was actually looking away for a moment. She took in his usual garb. Although it was late fall already, he was still dressed in army fatigue shorts, his best wife-beater t-shirt, a trucker cap and flip-flops.

A little past middle-age, white tufts of hair stuck out from beneath the cap. Her eyes were drawn to his feet. They were dry, with large calluses ringing the heels. The nails were longish and faintly tinged with dirt. He had a habit of rubbing his feet together which made a slight rasping sound.

As she had in the past, Kristie caught herself wondering what it would be like to be in bed with such feet. God. An involuntary shudder passed through her and she managed to pull her face back forward before the man had a chance to glow at her anymore. It has probably been some time since ol’ Frank has had the opportunity to share sheet time with anyone, she thought to herself.

At the end of the class session, people were getting up and grabbing their jackets and bags. She jerked when she saw him trying to push his way in her direction. Grabbing the car keys, she practically ran out of the building. Pam, her good friend, tried to stop her to say hello. She just shook her head no and kept going.

Once in the car, she breathed a little sigh of relief. But, damn it! If he wasn’t coming her way to start some conversation in the parking lot. She cranked the engine over and pulled a turn around him. He lifted his hand to wave and she gave him the briefest wave back and gunned the motor.

Back at her place she gave Sam, her long-time boyfriend, a call.

“So, what do you want me to do? Beat him up? He’s an old guy.”

“No, I don’t want you to beat him up. Just . . . “

“What?”

She was momentarily at a loss for words. What did she want?

“Just, be a presence. Come to church with me and be a presence.”

“Come to church?”

“Yes, the Bible class.”

“Oh, Kristie, the last time I was in Bible class, I was twelve. And I didn’t much like it then!” Sam protested.

“Sam… “

“Well, has the old geezer actually done anything?”

“No, he hasn’t done anything. But. . . he keeps trying to ah, . . .  hit on me and I get really uncomfortable. I am going to have to stop going if. . ..”

“Okay, okay. Whatever. If you say so. Jeese.” Sam blew out his breath wondering how much perfectly good football time this would entail.

“Oh, Sam, thanks.”

“Well, hold on now. How many of these damn. . . uh, classes will I have to do?”

“I don’t know for sure. Just enough so he gets the idea I’m not available.”

“Alrighty, I will go and flex my biceps for this clown.”

                                            
“Oh, good.”

“Does this mean you owe me some more apple pie?”

“Deal.”

                                                            #

The next day at work, Pam came up to Kristie.

“What the heck was that all about last night, girlfriend?”

“I’ll tell you at break,” Kristie glanced around.

“Okay, fine. Thought I had cooties or something.”

Kristie laughed. “It’s not you, not at all.”

Pam looked relieved.

                                                            #

The following week, Kristie was back in Bible study and her sidekick, Sam, was by her side. They sat together at a table and the pastor welcomed Sam.

“I see we have a newcomer,” the pastor said genially. “Welcome.”

Sam smiled and waved to the group.

At break time, everyone got up to get a cup of coffee and some cookies the church ladies had set out. Sam moseyed over to the coffee urn and poured himself a cup of regular. He looked around the room and spotted Frank and did a beeline.

“Frank!” He clapped the older man on the back forcibly.

Frank staggered forward a step and spilled a little of his coffee. Looking around he gave a half-smile to the taller, more buff Sam.

“I think we know each other from the gym, don’t we?” Sam continued and put his arm around Frank’s shoulders giving a subtle push toward the open door.

“I, I’m not sure. Do you go to the gym in town?”

“Yes, I do. How much can you lift, Frank? Two – two fifty? You look like a guy who likes to stay in shape.”

The two men walked awkwardly toward the outside of the building.

Kristie was watching from the sidelines and nearly choked on her coffee laughing. She almost felt sorry for Frank for a minute when she saw the wolfish grin Sam was wearing. One she knew too well, right before he was ready to punch someone.

Stop it, she told herself. It’s all the man deserves. That and more. She had to laugh again at that panicked look in Frank’s eyes. Hump! Guilty conscience no doubt.

Later, Kristie and Sam got into his truck to go home.

“Thanks, Sam, for doing that. I started to feel sorry for the guy,” she told him.

Sam cranked up the engine and pulled out of the lot.

“Well, don’t. The guy’s a loser. He drank his way through two marriages and has finally seen the light. Why do you think he started coming to church?”

“I don’t know.”
“He gave up drinking and decided to try Jesus instead. He simply has a preference for blondes.” Sam reached over and tugged at one of Kristie’s blonde curls. “And you are just his cup of tea.”

“Ick,” was her reply.

“Yeah, me too and I’m a guy. Nope,” he gave her a little wink, “don’t think he will bother you anymore. We came to an understanding.”

“What?”

He wagged a finger at her. “Ask me no questions and I’ll you no lies.” He smiled.

“I…” Realizing she really didn’t have anything to add, Kristie shrugged her shoulders and gave it up.

                                                                        #

The next morning, they were at Kristie’s house and Sam was having his first cup of coffee for the morning. Kristie wandered out in her dressing gown and yawned.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“God, I hate early risers,” she half moaned and poured herself a cup. She had to admit, Sam could make a decent pot of coffee.

He was sitting at the kitchen table leafing through the paper.

“Hmm. Look at this,” he pointed at the paper. She came over.

“Bed and breakfast. Old Town Pasadena. Charming Arts and Craft house, restored. One-night stay includes breakfast and dinner.”

“Yeah. That looks like it might be good,” she commented.

“And,” he pulled her down to a chair, “it might be good for you to get away for a little. Away from . . . ah.”

“Creeps,” she said.

“Work was what I was going to say. Plus, if I am not mistaken, this looks just like the place Bill Bass was telling me about.”

“Bill?”

“Yeah, you remember Bill. All 6’ 4” of him?”

“Naturally, I remember Bill. What’s he been up to?”

“Well, you know he was in Thailand a long time?

She nodded.

“Well, he’s back Stateside with a new girlfriend. Apparently, he met her there and she talked him into coming here and helping her with a bed and breakfast.”

“You think this is the place?”

“Sounds a lot like it, based on what he told me. I’ll give him a call.”

Sam got home and checked his calendar. Looked like he had some free time. As a free-lance PI, Sam took on the occasional case looking for missing persons and some corporate espionage. He could use a little vacay himself.

He punched up Bill’s number.

“Buddy! It’s Sam. No, same old, same old. How you?”

“Gosh, that’s great. So, you are in Pasadena? Hey. I got this newspaper ad. Is that your place?”

“Wow, well, her place actually. Sorry. No, no, you’re right. Not a good idea to make that mistake. Ah. . . think about taking Kristie on a little trip. This might work.”

“Yeah, I’ll hold. She needs to check the calendar? Sure. I’ll wait. Two weeks? Should be okay. Let me get back to you. Look forward to it and catching up. Thanks, later.”

Sam smiled as he hung up. That Bill, always seems to fall right into a complete bed of roses. Place sounds like a dream!

                                                            #

Two weeks later, Sam and Kristie were packed up and on the road. She had the dog sitter coming to take care of her dog and the Sebring was gassed up and ready to go.   

At Sam’s insistence, they hit it by 8 am.

“God, Sam, the break of dawn,” Kristie complained.

“Hey, you’ll be complaining if we get a lot of traffic. So, just lean back and leave the driving to me. No points lost for snoozing.”

She couldn’t fight logic, so Kristie popped the seat back, pulled a throw snuggy over her shoulders and closed her eyes. Before long, Sam could hear a gentle snore coming from that side of the car. He smiled.

He loved watching her sleep. Hell, he thought to himself, I love watching her period. I’m one lucky guy! And that was no joke. At sixty-six years, widowed, grown kids, many men his age had no love life at all. Much less a cute, blonde fifty-five-year-old by their side.

Ah, life’s good, he thought putting on the cruise control, soft jazz on the CD. The sky was a bright, eggshell blue, not a cloud anywhere. He leaned back and sipped his coffee. His mind flicked back to Frank at the church. Jesus, a guy like that; middle-aged, paunch, bad clothes. He’d probably be lucky if he could buy some love the odd Saturday night. He shook his head. Next thing I’ll feel so bad I’ll be inviting him to dinner. Bad idea! Who knows, there might even be somebody out there for someone as hard up as Frank.

(End of Part I)

The Number Nine Bus

12 Monday Dec 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in Book Sales: Amazon.com/Kindle Books, cutting, dating, Fiction, homelessnes, kids, money, romance, teenagers

≈ Comments Off on The Number Nine Bus

                                                      THE NUMBER NINE BUS

I rode my bike up to the bus stop and parked it neatly next to the trash bin and sat myself down on the blue metal bench. Checking my watch, I saw it was ten of six pm.

Okay then, by my calculations, the Number Nine should be here at 6:10 pm.  I have twenty minutes to wait. I can live with that. 

Then, I would mount my bike on the cow-catcher at the front of the bus and be mercifully whisked out of the heat and onto my shopping errand.

Home in time to watch the new Netflix movie and in bed at a decent hour.

I patted my pocket. There were several carefully placed dollar bills and quarters there in case any of the bills stuck in the bus changer. Patiently, I waited and pulled out my IPod and stuck in my ear buds for music.

Through my Raybans I saw them walking across the street, coming my way.

Oh, no. A guy and a girl? Yes, definitely a girl, she’s shorter. Little hard to tell with all the stuff they’re carrying.

Eventually they made it to the bus stop and I looked away into middle distance, not wanting to be part of their space. Sensing my discomfort, the girl sat down with her bag between us and the guy stood up. They were talking to each other but I couldn’t hear with the ear buds.

He said something to me and I had to pull the buds out.

“…bus?  The number nine bus?”

“Yes, yes. This is the number nine bus stop. It should be here any minute.” I said helpfully. I looked at my watch. As a matter of fact, it really should have already been here, it was 6:10pm.

“…you got your bracelet, from New Mexico?” The girl was speaking at me.

“No, not New Mexico,” I replied and kept staring off to the right, away from them.

“….mine it up in the hills there,” she was saying to me. I nodded my head, the buds back in place.

My natural nosiness took over and I looked at them. Both about twenty, they were a complete rag-tag band of assorted styles, genres, mixed clothing, backpacks, bags, hats, jewelry, tats and body piercing everywhere. He was kind of shaky and red in the face.

Is he kicking? Heroin? I thought to myself. Hard to say exactly.

I had to look carefully, there was a plastic baby doll leg pinned to the side of his pack. What was most noticeable was the big green ring he had in his nose. She had nose rings too, but smaller.

I am being kind of an ass, I thought, they’re just kids.

“The bus should be along any minute now. I think maybe it’s running late,” I volunteered.

“Oh, that always happens to us,” she told me and got up and gave the guy a long extended hug.

True love. I thought. Of course, poor and in love.

She came back and sat down again. I got up and stared down the street searching desperately for that bus.

“You guys looking for a shelter ’cause there’s a Salvation Army close by…”

“No, no, we have a place to go. We’re not really hobos…my husband and I just dress like this.”

She seemed very calm with their situation. Pretty face under all the hat, feather and jewelry. He was off staring for the bus too.

“I’m from Spokane,” she volunteered. “Did you know that Spokane and Fresno are the same size? Only Spokane has more people.” This girl seemed desperate to engage me in conversation for whatever reason.

“More rain too I’ll bet,” I ventured.

“Oh, lots more rain but crazy hot this time of year. You wouldn’t believe how hot and electrical storms, lots of electrical storms.”

“Fires?”

“Oh yeah, tons of fires, crazy.” She pulled and picked at her blond hair with bright orange polish fingernails. She wasn’t really looking at me but she didn’t seem bothered by me either.

“How are the buses in Spokane?”

“They are great! Every fifteen minutes and later every half hour,” she nodded her head with assurance.

“Well, the buses in Fresno suck,” I told her looking at my watch again. It was now almost 6:30pm.

 Where the hell it that bus? The mall is going to be closed. I have skin products to buy. Damn it! I need my Clinique.

“We’re going to his Dad’s and seeing about staying the night.” She didn’t seem sure about that.

“Where does he live?”

“Riverpark area,” the guy answered. He had put his backpack down. He suddenly jumped and started hitting the bag. Something flew out and landed. They both studied the ground.

“That’s the most beautiful beetle I ever saw,” she was staring at the little grey thing on the sidewalk.

Yeah, as long as it isn’t crawling around in your backpack.

“Don’t kill it,” she said to him. He was on the ground screwing with the bug, no doubt upset it had frightened him.

“I just don’t know about this bus,” I told them. “It should have been here by now. Don’t know if it’s Saturday schedule or what.” The guy looked concerned.

“Where you going again?” I directed my question to him.

“Riverpark down Blackstone. I remember ‘cause I lived there since I was two.”

I nodded and found the location on my IPod. “This it?” He bent over to look at the phone map but didn’t get too close.   

“Yeah, that’s the place.”

“That’s a beautiful ring!” she was looking at my white pearl and malachite pinkie ring. I knew she wanted to touch it but was careful to keep her hands to herself.

“His father is from Fresno?” I asked her.

“Yeah, Fresno.”

“Well, in that case, I would probably lose the nose rings for a few days.”

She got a disturbed look on her face, frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. It was then I noticed the healed cutting scars up and down her forearm. This girl clearly had some back story. And, probably not happy .

“You know,” she had put some thought in this, “Jesus Christ was persecuted and he wore clothes just like this. We dress like this so we will be persecuted too and still carry the message.”

“Ah,” I replied.

“I don’t change myself to please other people, only to please myself,” she concluded with some finality.

How about pleasing someone enough to get a place to sleep for the night? I didn’t say anything else, her mind seemed made up.  

“I don’t know about this bus,” I said again. It was ten of seven now.

The girl disappeared in to the car wash and came back.

“The Mexican guy says no more buses,” she told us.

Damn it to hell, the Mall is going to close and I’m never going to get my stuff! I almost stamped my feet in frustration.

I walked over to my bike. Maybe I could ride there and back before it got dark.

“Perhaps if you hitch a ride with a truck they can get you to Blackstone,” I ventured.

They weren’t really listening to me anymore.

“I’m thirsty,” she was telling him. He was practically gyrating in place trying to decide what to do.

Oh, well. Guess they’ll just have to take that whole 60’s Love Child, meets Fresno Red Neck and gets ink, rings, Jesus and hits the road becoming homeless on unknown drugs and figure it out.

I got back on my bike and rode toward the mall.

Roe vs Wade: The Worm Turns

28 Tuesday Jun 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in dating, FRIENDSHIP, kids, marriage, romance, teenagers, Uncategorized

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ROE VS WADE: THE WORM TURNS

Thirty years ago when I was pregnant I was very amazed at the responses, unexpected, that I received from any number of people. I learned that in pregnancy, somehow the whole world seems to own you.

Firstly, I got a referral to an OBGYN from the medical board and went in for a visit. After suffering for 30 minutes with an older male doctor cracking jokes about sex and older women, I had to go to the counter and speak to the nurse. I did that, got my brochures and was told that “pregnancy was a disease” and I needed to treat it like that. Shocked, I rapidly found another doctor.

I was getting my hair cut at an inexpensive salon. The young man cutting my hair told me he thought I was too old to have a baby. I should have reported him to his boss, instead I changed salons. At an outdoor gathering/barbeque with ‘friends”, a friend advised me that ‘she knew someone who could help me out of my problem.’ I looked at her like the Angel of Death and quickly moved away. In addition to that remark, other ‘friends’ (mostly male) worked hard to make me feel ashamed and embarrassed about my condition. Because I was 38 years old and not 18 years old; I was not embarrassed, I got angry, finally.

Recently, when that baby turned 30 and got married, I was again faced with some similar comments. The baby, now a young lady, was engaged to a fella who got a job offer overseas. He could go but she couldn’t go unless they were married. So, the engagement was followed quickly by marriage.

I shared this good news with a ‘friend.’ Her first response was “Did she have to get married?” Unless you have lived under a rock for the last 50 years, you understand that translates into “Was she pregnant and they had to get married?” In other words, my daughter isn’t good enough to get a guy without being pregnant. A year and a half later, I’m still not a grandmother. I am also not talking to that ‘friend’ much  these days.

Since I’m the age that I am; I can remember the days before Roe and the days after Roe. I have known girls who ‘had to get married’ and I have known girls who gave up babies for adoption. In addition to that, I have known women who have gotten pregnant and have been ordered by husbands and boyfriends to get an abortion. I have known the ones who resisted the man’s wishes and said “No, I’m having this baby.” Also, those who buckled under the man’s pressure and got the abortion. Guess who, after all these years, are the happiest and the most unhappy? Spoiler alert, the women who stuck up for themselves and their babies are the happiest.

So, what does this all mean? After centuries of men having children whether they wanted to or not and often more children than they wanted; we have situations where men are not getting the children they want. Women are using birth control, the birth rate has dropped dramatically. Add in abortion rights, the number of unwanted children around has dropped to almost nothing. The worm has turned. Men are having to take responsibility for wanting to have children. They are having to ask, for the very first time ever, asking the woman to please carry their children. How different is that?

Famous couples that broke up over the child issue: Here are three very famous couples that broke up and then remarried, apparently over the child/childless issue. Bruce Springsteen and Julianne Phillips; they got a divorce when she wanted to focus on her career. He remarried Patti Scialfa and has three children now. Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johanssen, they got a divorce and he remarried Blake Lively and they have three children. Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston; they got a divorce, he remarried Angelina Joie. They have 3 adopted children and 3 natural children.

My feeling is that if there are 3 very famous couples who have broken up over this issue, there are probably hundreds and hundreds of other couples who have broken up over the very same issues.

For hundreds of years, girls who ‘got into trouble’ were sent away to homes for unwed mothers to have their babies and then shamed into giving their babies up for adoption. These numbers of unwed mothers and ‘unwanted’ babies, at least in this country, have dropped to almost zero. I personally know of couples who are unable to conceive. Couples who desperately want children and are faced with a country where ‘free’ babies are virtually impossible to find. I have seen couples suffer through fertility clinics, surrogate mother scams and painful adoption proceedings.

Roe v Wade will make a lot of people very unhappy. The one sector of our population who are heaving a secret sigh are married couples looking to adopt a baby. I don’t know, maybe the universe is calling out for more babies.

As a society we need to consider why it is that so many young women of childbearing ages don’t want to have children. Why? Is it just the cost? Well, the cost is of course part, but not all. Could it be that we are still caught up in the shame-blame cycles of shaming and blaming pregnant women for their ‘condition’? Do we ever consider that men (of all ages) use women to satisfy their sexual needs? Does it take two generations of women refusing to bear children for men to finally realize that, yes, they too want children? It’s like a thousand country western songs, you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Pregnancy is not a curse or a disease. It is a gift. A lot more people need to start thinking that way. If you don’t believe me, sit down and have a chat with a childless couple. If we supported women and their children more as a society more, maybe there wouldn’t be such a rush to the abortion clinics.

The end.

Cew 6/22

Devine Tragedy – A Teenage Romance

11 Saturday Jun 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in romance, teenagers

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Courtney E. Webb

Love Is In The Air: Love Stories by [Akshay Sonthalia , William "Brent" Heckler, Richard Saddlemire, Sawyer Stewart, Mark  Dobosz, Michael Calderwood, Sabrina Herrmann, Mary Binninger, Tureygua Inaru, Andrew Mengel]

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Akshay Sonthalia

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Love Is In The Air: Love Stories Kindle Edition

by Akshay Sonthalia  (Author), & 9 more  Format: Kindle Edition


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A collection of this year’s best stories
With this collection of short stories and poems, Indian publisher Shail Raghuvanshi managed to immerse us in powerful words and characters that take you inside their hearts. In these snippets of life, you learn something about yourself, allowing you to bring some power into your own life.

From a ‘love story within a love story,’ magic on a stage, nostalgic memories, and smoky bar friendships, this collection provide profoundly empathetic portrayals of various human experiences.

You’ll laugh and cry as you sink into world after world, character after character. Love lost, love found, and love redeemed. Romantic love, platonic love, and the unexpected – all these stories and poems celebrate love just like it is in real life. First, you’ll forget yourself as you read. Then, upon surfacing, there is the possibility to know yourself and others anew.

‘Love is in the Air’ is a collection of 20 poignant love short stories and 9 feel-good love poems.

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