Tag Archives: writing

Love is Often Not Enough

03 Monday Feb 2025

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Love is Often Not Enough – The Grantchester Series

I love the PBS series, Grantchester. It has been on for nine seasons and apparently, a lot of other people like it too. What’s not to like? Sidney Chambers, the Anglican priest of a small English town after the end of World War II. He is back from the war and is ready to tend his flock!

Sidney Chambers (James Norton) is tall, good looking, humble, sincere, intelligent and….savvy and intuitive enough to figure out who done it! His side-kick, the ever detective Geordie Keating (Robson Green) sometimes leads and sometimes follows his vicar as they investigate one murder after another. Between Sidney and Geordie, they usually catch their man (or woman) as the episode wraps up.

Sidney who is single, (and the most eligible bachelor in the county), is a contrast to Geordie; a married man with uncounted numbers of children running around. Geordie and vicarage housekeeper keep busy filling Sidney’s head with tid bits of country lore and folk wisdom. Much of it concerns romance.

Sidney’s long time ‘friend’ Amanda Kendall (Morven Chrisite,) is someone from his highschool. Whenever chums get together, the girls never stop ogling over Sidney. Amanda and Sidney spend long afternoons in the country and it is obvious how much they care for each other.

However, regardless of how many of their mutual friends are off tying the knot and how many asides and innuedios Amanda throws his way, Sidney never seems to be able to take things to the next level. There are several espisdoes when Amanda gets engaged, and is then marching to the alter, where we keep hoping against hope that the vicar will break his silence and tell the girl that he loves, how much he loves her.

But, nope, it is not to be and Amanda gets married and becomes Mrs. Hopkins. Finally, the truth comes out between Sidney and Geordie when the vicar admits “I just wasn’t in her league.” He is referring of course to the fact that Amanda comes from money and her father is Sir Kendell and they live in an exceptionally large house.

Clearly, Sidney cannot get over the economic distance between the two of them and is frozen in silence, never to confess his true feelings.

How often, in our lives, have we talked ourselves out of something with one rational after another? In the series, one of the characters remarked, “Because we are all a pack of cowards.” How true.

In my life, I have asked myself over and over again, why is it that the guy I really have my heart set on, can’t either talk to me or even ask me out for a cup of coffee. Like Sidney, men (and women) can be full of self doubt and lack feelings of worthiness. They talk themselves out of the first step in courtship “because” until such time as the other loses interest and the fire grow cold.

Self-doubt, recriminations, lack of self-worth, guilt, fear of what other people will say, fear of failure, of getting ‘hurt again’; these are all reasons people back away from relationships and even the promise of love. Both being in love and loving someone else. We let the little ‘nigglies’ invade our thoughts, poison them and deprive us of the full life we can have and do deserve. Then, instead of dealing with the fears, we act out in childish, immature and socially inappropriate ways; having affairs with married people, isolation, drinking too much, smoking too much, feeding any number of addictions, all in an effort to hide. Hide from ourselves.

cew

Devine Tragedy – Conclusion

24 Saturday Feb 2024

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The next day was Friday. Winter prom was one week away. Chloe approached her friend Becca.

“Becca, what do you say if we went ahead and went to the prom?”

“We don’t have dates,” Becca’s replied blankly.

“Yeah, well neither do a lot of the girls. Why don’t we bunch up and all go, together? It might be fun.”

“Well,” Becca wrinkled her brow in thought. “You know, why should the Jennifers in the world have all the fun? Let’s do it!”

Becca was the official social networker of their group. Chloe let her work her magic. Soon, there was a group of about ten loser girls with no dates who were willing to go stag. Becca was bubbling. Chloe could relax and focus on getting a dress and having her hair done. Her mother was surprised but not against the idea and started calling around hair shops.

“And,” said Chloe archly to Becca, “we’ll just go to that damn, dumb party at Jennifer’s house and say the Hell with all of them!”

“You’re brave, Chloe. I don’t know …”

“Don’t be a weenie, Becca. If we do it, we do it all the way.”

“Okay,” Becca replied, reluctance in her voice.

The big day arrived. Chloe had borrowed a cute satin cocktail dress from a friend. It was a jade green color, almost emerald and went well with her skin tone. She and mom had gone shopping for heels. She got a pair of killer black patent leathers with gold bands. Her hair was done up and the stylist managed to get every single curl in place. Mom arranged some little rhinestone pins throughout the do. Chloe looked at herself in the mirror. The stones twinkled back at her. Wow! She was looking good!

Her mom was crying, her dad was taking pictures; her little brother was lurking around the corners when Becca’s dad drove up and honked. Girls were piled in the SUV, giggling and laughing hysterically the whole way.

They had gotten permission to go to the after party as long as they were home by midnight. Two girls had their own cars and followed them.

The prom was set up in the school gym. The place had been transformed into a fairyland with lights, fake snow. Big, huge silver snowflakes hung on the curtains. Little round café tables were around the edges and candles flickered in the middle. Bowls of potpourri lent a scent of apples and pumpkin to the air.

“Do you see him?” Becca whispered.

“Who?”

“Oh, come on, Chloe. Oh, look, I think they are over there.” Becca held her finger low and pointed across the room.

Indeed, a stiff and uncomfortable looking Greg was sitting in a tux with both hands holding his knees. He looked a lot like he wanted to be somewhere else. Jennifer was in a froth of pink tulle with silver stars everywhere and was gabbing busily with friends clustered in tables around her. Kiki was close by in a low cut, tight fitting deep purple gown. Her hair was sparkling with gold shimmer, and she looked bored. Chloe watched her bend over and speak to a young man at her table. The two got up as one and disappeared.

“Oh, forget them, Chlo, let’s dance!” Becca and the girls commandeered some tables and were soon out on the dance floor giving it everything they’d got. Curiously enough, some of the guys from their class started to show up and several of the girls were then dancing with guys and not just girlfriends.

Winded, Chloe grabbed some punch and sat down to breathe. The disc jockey was playing a slow song. Unchained Melody, an oldie.

“Dance, Chloe?” she heard a masculine voice in her ear. She turned and it was Greg.

“Where’s Jenn?” she asked, incredulous.

“Oh, she went outside with some of her friends. Thought I would take a chance.” He smiled down at her.

Her stomach clutching, Chloe got up and he led her to the floor. She put her arms up, he took them, and they started a slow waltz.

“Reminds me of dance class, a long time ago,” he said.

“Yes, a long time ago.” Eventually, Chloe got closer and almost leaned her head against Greg’s shoulder. We feel so right together, the thought passed through her mind.

The music ended, Greg gave her the slightest bow and went back to his table. Chloe sank into her chair and stared at the dancers on the floor. Finally, a faint smile crept onto her face.

Becca came back and sat. “Wow, you look happy.”

“I am,” replied Chloe, “and we are definitely going to that after-party.”

“If you say so, chief.” Becca fanned herself.

At about eleven o’clock, Becca made the call, her dad appeared in front of the gym fifteen minutes later, and they piled in.

“Where are the other girls?” he asked.

“Oh, some got other rides, some went home. You know,” Becca tossed out casually.

“Okay,” her dad replied. “What’s the address?” Becca pulled the address out of her purse and her dad programmed it into his GPS pad. “Ah, the posh side of town.”

Becca shrugged, “I guess.”

Chloe had met Mr. Thompson any number of times. A short, buff but nice guy, he had a low forehead, dark eyes, black eyebrows that nearly met in the front and thick, dark hair cut almost into a burr. She had to admit to herself, although she didn’t want to, how much Becca resembled her dad.

Following the dulcet tones of the GPS voice, they arrived in the north side of town not long after. The SUV glided to a stop in front of a large, two-story house with immaculate lawn and flowerbeds; lights blazing from every window.

“What do her parents do again?” Mr. Thompson asked craning his neck toward the home.

“Oh, ah, I think her mom sells real-estate and her dad works at a bank downtown,” Becca chirped.

A white coupe with a black rag top was parked in the drive. The license plate read ‘Klassy.’ A  Cadillac SUV was parked next to it.

“Hmm,” was his reply “must be doing darn well.” He leaned back over the seat, “Give me a call when you’re done Becca, and don’t be concerned about the time, ‘kay?”

“Look there’s her mom now,” Chloe added. A blonde woman with a dazzling smile, much like her daughter’s, was standing in the front doorway waving.

“See, Dad, told you her parents would be home.”

“Okay, then.” Her father seemed placated. “You two git.”

The two girls emerged from the vehicle and walked up the broad driveway to the door.

Jennifer’s mom was a trim 40+ something with beautiful hair, teeth and ensemble. “You’re some of Jennifer’s friends. Come in, come in!” She welcomed and waved again at Mr. Thompson. He waved back and the SUV glided off. The two went into the brightly lit room and saw a number of adults standing around having drinks. Chloe was thrown for a minute.

“Alright, girls. We are having our little soiree up here, but the kid’s party is downstairs in the basement.” She walked toward some stairs and pointed down with a big smile.

Chloe and Becca both smiled uncertainly and moved down the stairs toward the very loud music. When they got there, they were greeted with banging music, a flashing music ball hanging from the ceiling and a ton of teens. Some, Chloe knew and some she had never met before. They walked around a bit and headed for the food table.

Chloe picked up a small paper plate and was putting little sandwiches on it when she heard “Chloe, Becca! You made it!”

Next thing she knew, Jennifer was spinning her around and gave her a big hug. Chloe held the plate up hoping to not spill anything, her other hand clutching her small bag.

“So, good of you to come!” Jennifer was effusive and her eyes wide and bright. “I have to get you something to drink. Would you like punch?” She had to yell over the music.

“Sure, sure,” Chloe replied, “punch, great.”

“Okay, then. Wait here.”

Becca followed Jenn’s movements a moment and then looked at Chloe.

“Is she …?”

“High?” Chloe replied, “Totally.”

“Geese, I wondered what those guys were doing leaving the prom and going out the back door,” Becca stated.

“Well, so now we know, huh. We can just stay a little while, Becca. I didn’t think it was going to be like this, so loud and so …”

“Yeah, so everything,” her friend replied.

Jennifer returned bearing two red cold cups brimming with liquid. She handed them over. “Drink up! I got to go and find that Greg again. He keeps disappearing.” She flashed another fabulous smile and wove her way through the throng of dancing bodies.

Becca took a sip of her drink and almost spit it out. “What the hell?”

Chloe tasted hers. “Ah, this tropical punch has a real punch. Wow! What did they put in this stuff?”

“Do you think her parents know?” Becca asked and sipped some more punch.

“How could they not, they’re right upstairs?” Chloe answered looking around for something else to drink. There didn’t appear to be cokes out that she could see.

“Let’s just eat something, make the rounds and call your dad.”

“Okay,” Becca replied. “I hate to have him drive all the way back when he just dropped us off.”

“He told you not to worry about it.”

Becca sighed and popped a small sandwich in her mouth.

They made the rounds, both sipping the punch and noshing. It was after the second turn around that Chloe realized with a pang of discomfort that she didn’t know most of these people. They were teens but some seemed a lot older and almost all of them were either very high, very drunk or both. They passed Kiki in one corner, busy snogging another individual. Chloe couldn’t tell if it was a male or female.

Greg was nowhere to be seen. Chloe was about to tell Becca to call her dad when there was some shouting and a bunch of people started to run up the stairs. “He’s going to jump!” she heard.

Curiosity got the better of her and she followed the crowd up. A bunch of people were clustered at a side window, looking up. There was an outside patio above their heads, on the second floor. Jenn’s home was close to that of their next-door neighbor. Chloe saw to her horror, the neighbor had a pool and apparently, one of the young men from the party was on the patio and was going to dive into the neighbor’s pool. There was a momentary hush, then, a figure flew past. There was a loud Splash! Everyone cheered. Luckily, the kid landed in the pool. Almost immediately, the back door light at the neighbor’s house came on and Chloe could hear a man come out and scream at the kid in the pool. The wife came out in her slippers, a hand-held phone to her ear, talking.

Chloe and Becca pulled away from the window. They were both laughing and saying, “Can you believe it?” Becca was trying to call her dad but between the noise and the being jostled by others, she was having a difficult time.

Suddenly, there were loud sirens coming right down the street toward them.

I wonder if they are going to arrest that guy? Chloe thought to herself.

There was some loud banging on the front door; Jenn’s mother answered it to what looked like a phalanx of cops.

Very much to Chloe’s surprise, she got arrested for being an underage minor consuming alcohol. Also, a number of other people at the party got arrested to include Becca, Greg, Jennifer and Jennifer’s parents.

Two hours later, they were sitting in the hallway at the police station. They had had to give breath-a-lizer samples to the cops.

It was a grim-faced Mr. and Mrs. Thompson who both came to pick-up a sobbing Becca. “I didn’t know, Dad,” she kept saying over and over, as they led her out the door.

Chloe called her parents, and they were on their way to pick her up. Greg eased down into the plastic chair next to hers.

“Some mess, huh?” he asked without looking at her.

“I’ll say,” Chloe, replied, she was still clutching the little pearl evening bag.  “By the way, where were you that whole time that guy was jumping into the pool?” She turned and looked at him. She had picked up a water at the front desk. She played with the cap, opening it an closing it nervously.

“I was on the balcony trying to talk him out of jumping. I kept telling him he could fall short and kill himself. But no, he’s on the school dive team. Said he knew he could make it.”

“Well, he did,” she answered.

“Yeah, he did and now he’ll probably be off the team after a stunt like this.” He leaned forward, resting his big arms on his knees.

“And you?” she asked.

“Well for starters, my dad already told me when I called him, to kiss the car goodbye.”

“Oh, wow,” Chloe stared at him.

“That’s for starters; then this arrest could cost me the water polo scholarship I was almost sure to get. My dad may have to have one of the attorneys at the firm bail me out of this thing.” He stared morosely at the floor.

“Oh, sorry.” Chloe also stared down at the floor. There was a pause. “Greg, did you know there was going to be alcohol at the party?” She glanced over at him.

“Oh, sure. Jenn’s parents have these kinds of parties all the time. Their philosophy is they want their kids drinking at home and not off somewhere else. Why do you think the cops showed up so fast? That neighbor of theirs has just about had it with them and had complained before.”

“Oh, well. That explains a lot of things, I guess.” Chloe leaned her arms against her legs too. They were both quiet for a time.

“And you know the crazy thing?” Greg turned and looked at Chloe.

“What?”

“I don’t even like Jenn that much. She is all about Jenn and her friends, all the time. I doubt she even knows who I am.”

“So, why go out with her?”

“Well, she is cute …” he said carefully, glancing at Chloe, “popular.”

“Hmm.” More silence.

“And her parents do have a killer house.”

“Ah.”

“But, clearly,” he stretched his long arms up and out, “that isn’t everything.” He waved around the station and let out a short laugh. He leaned one hand on the back of her chair.

She nodded still looking at the floor.

“Chloe, I know this is an odd time and maybe the wrong time, but …”

“Yes?” She lifted her head and turned to look at him.

“Would you like to go to a movie or something, coffee?”

Chloe smiled at him. “I really think, Greg Dudenhoeffer, that a movie with the likes of you is going to be a definite No in my household for a while. But coffee? That’s probably doable. She smiled again, and this time she really smiled. He smiled back.

“So, coffee?”

“Starbucks.”

“What day?”

“Wednesday is good.”

“After school?”

“Yes, after school.”

Greg let out a sigh. “Well, you’ll know me as the very tall guy on the bicycle.”

“I think I can hold onto that visual image.” She smirked. He smirked.

Greg was reaching over like he would give her a hug when her father showed up with a face like thunder.

“Greg, Greg Dudenhoeffer? You too? Jesus. What next? Come on Chloe, time to go home.”

Chloe got up to follow her dad. She turned at the last minute before they went out the door to give Greg a little wave. He waved back.

Yes, she thought to herself, this is really going to be my year!

Her mom was waiting in the car and Chloe let herself in the backseat. Her mom started firing questions at her, but her dad put up a stopping hand.

“Phyllis, enough time for that tomorrow. Let’s just get the kid home.”

The kid sat in the back seat wrapped in a warm, fuzzy glow.

The end.

Little Black Book IV

11 Sunday Feb 2024

Posted by in dating, Fiction, marriage, mystery, romance

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                                                                        ###

Back home that evening, he was looking forward to a nice home cooked meal and maybe some quiet time with his wife and kids. He got into the apartment. It was unusually quiet.

He went over to the breakfast bar and saw a note in Shin’s hand.

‘Robert, the school was having a parent/kid fun night tonight. Know how much you hate those things. We will be gone a couple of hours. Dinner is in the frig.’

He crumbled the note into a tie little ball and threw it hard at the trash can. He went to get himself a beer and turn on the soccer game.

Tuffy, their little white dog, cocked his head at Robert, but kept to his side of the room.

                                                                  ###

The rest of the Professor’s week didn’t get much better. He found himself having lunch more and more often by himself. His feelings were like a slow boiling pot.  Alice was avoiding his calls. He was about to throw the phone away. He couldn’t wait for Saturday so he could go fishing.

                                                                          ###

The next Saturday dawned bright and clear. Robert pulled his stuff together and barely spoke to his wife in his hurry to get out the door. She stared after the slammed front door and shook her head.

At the marina he buzzed through the bait shop and got a small order of chum. After getting some help with gear, he hustled out. Jumping in the boat, Bob flung a large, padded bag with a handle into the bottom of the craft. He started the engine and when it roared to life he sped out to the sea.

“Mama, why does Pappa want to catch that fish so badly?” One of the girls asked Shin. Shin put down some darning she was doing and looked at the girl.

“Well, there is an old, old story about a fish. A magical fish. Would you like me to tell you about it?”

“Yes, yes!” the older girl cried, and her little sister came running when she heard there would be a story. The hard-wood floors were heated from the bottom. So, comfortable and hugging soft toys, they both sat crossed legged in front of their mother, eager to hear.

“Well,” Shin began to tell them the story of Yeh-Shen, the Chinese Cinderella.                                                         

In a community of cave-dwellers called Wudoung, there was a beautiful girl named Yeh-Shen. She was not only beautiful but kind, and gifted in many skills. In contrast, her half-sister, Jun-li, was plain-looking, selfish and lazy. Both she and her mother envied the attention the father lavished upon Yeh-Shen. Yeh-Shen’s mother had died years before.

Unfortunately, Yeh-Shen’s father died from a great illness and Yeh-Shen was left alone to live with her step-mother and step-sister in poverty.  With her family so reduced and poor, Yeh-Shen was forced to become a lowly servant and work for her scheming stepmother and envious older sister.  Despite living a life burdened with chores and housework, and suffering endless abuse at her stepmother’s hands, she found solace by up befriending a beautiful, 10-foot-long fish in the lake near her home. The fish was a magical fish with golden eyes and scales and talked to her.  The fish was really the guardian spirit of an old man, sent by her mother, who never forgot her daughter, even beyond the grave.

One day, Jun-li, curious about where Yeh-Shen went every day, followed her to the lake. Hiding behind a tree, the step-sister was surprised to see Yeh-Shen talking to the fish. Angry that Yeh-Shen had found happiness, the girl ran quickly home and told her mother everything. The cruel woman tricked Yeh-Shen into giving her the tattered dress she wore. Disguised, the step-mother went to the lake, caught the fish and served it for dinner for herself and Jun-li.

Yeh-Shen was devastated until the spirit of an old man, her ancestor, in a white robe with white hair, appeared and told her to bury the bones of the fish in four pots and hide each pot at the corners under her bed. The spirit also told her that whatever she needed would be granted if she talked to the bones.

Once in a year, the New Year Festival was celebrated. This was the time for the young maidens to meet potential husbands. Not wishing to spoil her own daughter’s chances, the step-mother forced her stepdaughter to remain home and clean their cave-house. After they had left for the festival, Yeh-Shen was visited by the fish’s spirit again. She made a silent wish to the bones and suddenly found herself clothed in a magnificent gown of sea-green silk, a cloak of kingfisher bird feathers and a pair of golden slippers.

Yeh-Shen went to the festival by foot. Admired by everyone, she particularly enjoyed attention from young men who believed her to be a princess. She enjoyed herself until she realized that her step-sister may have recognized her. Quickly she left the festival and in her hurry, accidentally left behind a golden slipper. Arriving home, she hid her finery and the remaining slipper under her bed. The fish bones lay silent now, however, for they had warned Yeh-Shen not to lose even one of her slippers.

Her step family returned from the festival, talking and laughing. They mentioned a mysterious beauty who appeared at the festival. Although Yeh-Shen was sad, she told them nothing of her adventure.

The golden slipper was found by a local peasant. The man, entranced by the beauty and value of the shoe, hurried to the castle of a nearby king, where he felt certain of a reward. The palace guard paid the man a small token and took the shoe to his master.

The king of the To’Han islets, was ruler of a powerful kingdom covering thousands of small islands. Fascinated by the shoe’s small size, the king issued a royal decree to search to find the maiden whose foot fit into the shoe and proclaimed he would marry that girl. The search extended until it reached the community of the cave-dwellers. Every maiden, including Jun-Li, tried the slipper. But, by some magic, it seemed to shrink its size whenever touching a maiden’s foot. Despondent that he could not find the woman he was searching for; the king made a great pavilion and placed the shoe there on display.

Yeh-Shen stole in the pavilion, late at night to try to retrieve her slipper, but was mistaken as a thief. She was then was brought before the king. There she told him everything about her life, how she lost her friend, the gold-eyed fish, and now her slipper. The king, struck by her gentle nature and beauty despite her circumstances, believed her and allowed her to go home with the slipper. The next day, the prince came back to the meager dwelling and claimed the girl and her golden slipper to be his wife. He took her back to the palace and married her. They were happy ever after.

                                                 ###

“So, girls. What did you think of the story?” Shin finally stopped talking and addressed her two daughter who sat in rapture listening.

“Oh, Mom! We loved it!” They both chorused together, eyes shining.

                                                                                  

In the bay area, south of Busan, Robert was about a mile offshore; he stopped the engine and regrouped. He lifted the black, padded bag with a silver logo on the side. Carefully, he unzipped it and pulled the device out. He balanced it with one hand and smiled. Damn! Amazing what you could get on the Internet these days.

In his hand, it shone in the sunlight. Stainless steel, titanium alloy, five feet long, light in the hand. Razor sharp, it was five feet of instant death. A custom made, harpoon, designed mostly for shark dives, the beauty of the thing sent a shiver down his spine.

Robert had tested and retested the nylon rope coil which was attached to a ring at the end of the harpoon. He even had the guy in the bait shop help him test it. He pulled one way, and the little fat guy pulled the other, and the knot held. Bob always prided himself on his sailor’s knots. Another thing he had learned from his overbearing, Navy father.

“A man is as good as his knot.” The old duffer used to say.

“Ha,” Robert laughed out loud. “I got you now, you little bastard. No one calls me stupid and gets away with it.”

He looped the nylon rope around the ring at the prow of the skiff. He pulled on the double knots again and again. They held.

He laid the harpoon in the hull of the boat and pulled out the rod and reel; baited the hook and threw it in. Just a matter of time, he told himself. Just a matter of time.

It wasn’t too long before there was a tug at the line. He carefully started to reel in the line. He just wanted to get the grouper to the top of the water. He wasn’t interested in hooking it anymore. There was a slight tug, some resistance, but he thought, maybe. . .

There was a splash on the surface.

“Hey, asshole. No, you, over here.”

The man whipped his head around and the big grouper was on the exact opposite side of the boat from his line. What?

“You’re never going to catch me, asshole. You don’t have it in ya.”

We’ll see about that, Robert smiled grimly and almost casually reached into the bottom of the boat. He got a grip on the harpoon.

Quickly, he rose up and pulled back his arm and with all his might, threw the harpoon. There was a thud sound.

An “Ah!” cry came from the water and a pool of blood started to form on the top of the water.

“Ha!” Robert called out with glee. Suddenly, the rope coil started to unwind, going down deep into the water. He tried to grab it but it was going too fast and it burned the palms of his hands. “Ow,” he yelled.

The line got tight against the prow of the boat and the boat started to move in the direction of the line.

“Ah, shit!”

The boat was starting to move more rapidly now. He tried to untie the line, but it was too tight and there was no give. The boat was being pulled and was completely out of his control.

He ran over to the back of the boat to the engine and started it. It came to life and then, for no apparent reason, sputtered and died.

“Jesus!” Robert screamed. But the boat was moving away from shore and there was no one to hear him.

The fat guy in the bait shop waited and waited for Robert to return and tie up his boat. The old guy even went out to the pier and peered around for the little craft but could see nothing.

“Ah, well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s a big boy, I guess he knows what he is doing.” He finally turned off the lights to the shop, locked up and went home.

When Robert did not return home that evening, Shin started to get concerned. She called and called to his cell phone but there was no answer. She started to call around to his various teaching buddies and no one had seen him.

By the next afternoon, she was frantic and called the police. They told her she had to come down and made a written report. Reluctantly, she called her mother to come watch the girls and went to the station.

A hunt was undertaken, and the skiff was found, floating, empty, about two miles offshore. There was no Robert Towne, and no one had seen him.

Shin was at the station, or the police were at her apartment every day for two weeks and there was nothing. She started to run out of tears. They were beginning to talk to her about his being ‘legally dead’. She didn’t want to think about that yet. Not yet.

                                                                        ####

Continued Part V

The Little Black Book – Part II

09 Friday Feb 2024

Posted by in Fiction, Jobs and the workplace, marriage, mystery, romance

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It was Monday and the professor was having lunch with some of the guys at the Korean restaurant close to school. They could walk there and get back for class, no problem.

“I’m telling you it was.”

“Ah, Professor, those glasses need to be checked?” Jack grinned and took a pull on his beer.

“This big,” the professor pulled his very long arms out to demonstrate.

“Bullshit,” the Irishman said. “Those fish don’t even get up in these waters. I think they’re in Australia.” He stabbed some kimchi with his chop sticks.

“The only bullshit around here is that phony Irish accent of yours,” big Al from Chicago replied.

“It ain’t phony,” the Irishman answered. “It’s the real thing. Ask any of the gorls.”

“Speaking of which,” Al speared some noodles, “what happened to your fat girlfriend?”

“Got rid of fat number one and got fat number two,” Irish replied. “Fat girls are always very . . ..”

“Eager?”

“Ready?”

“Willing?”

“Grateful,” Irish said, “and,” he rolled his eyes, “appreciative.” The men all laughed.

“How’s that going with you?” Jack asked the professor with his eyebrows raised.

“I told you not to bring that up,” his boss replied in a low growl.

“Oh, sorry.” Jack flushed pink and took a big swig of beer.

“Anyway,” the professor continued with his fish story, “going out next weekend, anybody wants to go.”

The others shifted uncomfortably and glanced at each other.

“Don’t know, boss, lesson plans, you know.”

“Birthday party.”

“Korean lessons.”

“Whatever.” Robert finished his coke. He didn’t usually drink liquor at lunch. Made him sleepy and off the mark when he got back to the office.

“Time.” The professor tapped on the face of his watch with a finger.

The teachers all hurriedly called to the waitress and settled their bills. They trouped after the boss back to campus.

“Jack, get me those names for the mid-term evaluations. It’s next week.”

“Right, Professor. I’ll get those right over.” Jack turned to go.

The professor grabbed him by the arm.

“And don’t bring up her name again,” he looked tight-lipped at Jack.

“Sure, Professor. My mistake.” A little bead of sweat was on Jack’s upper lip.

Robert let go of his arm and nodded. He turned and went back into the admin building and up the stairs.

I got to use the bathroom, Jack thought to himself.

Upstairs, the Professor stopped at the secretary’s desk and picked up messages. For a Monday it was quiet.

He returned to his office, shut the door and locked it. Sitting at his desk, he opened the middle drawer and pulled out a small phone. He could see there were messages he hadn’t read yet.

He read the messages and smiled. Dialing out, a woman answered on the second ring.

“Hi, it’s me.” The professor lowered his voice.

********

“Yeah, missed you too. You know, stupid birthday parties, work reports. Usual.”

**********

“Yeah, this week. Maybe Thursday. I’ll have the car. No, I’ll drive by the gym. Usual place.”

*********

“I don’t care about your damn hair. Just be ready.”

*********

“No, I do love you. Do not come over here. We talked about that.”

*********

“Maybe I’ll stop by the bookstore just to say hi.”

*********

“If I don’t, will see you on Thursday. Okay, ‘till then.”

*********

He disconnected and then stared at the phone a minute. A smile played on his lips as he thought about her. There really was nothing like a girl in her twenties.

Carefully, he put the phone away and closed the drawer. Getting up he went and unlocked the door. Leaning out, he checked to see if there was anyone in the hall. Just some students. He let out a little breath. Just making the phone calls was half the excitement.

                                                                        ###

Back home that evening the Professor told his wife about the staff meeting on Thursday.

“Yeah, these idiots need a lot of training,” he told her.

Shin looked at her husband uncertainly.

“Robert, Thursday is after-school night. Did you forget?”

He looked at her blankly.

“Well, shit. Why do they have to do it on some weird night like Thursday? Don’t they know people are busy. Why not do it on a Monday so it’s easier to remember. God.”

She flinched. “I told you last week about it.”

“Must have slipped my mind. Sorry, darling. I’ll see what I can do. I sent out the memo already. Maybe we can change it.”

She looked down at her paperwork and took a breath.

“Of course, do what you can. They would like you to be there.”

The professor cursed under his breath.

                                                                        ###

Robert told his wife he needed a walk and would take the dog. He got the leash and the fluffy white thing they called a canine and went down the stairs.

It was cold and windy outside, and he huddled inside his jacket. He walked as far as the little park down the street from the apartment. His cell was in his pocket. Alice’s number was not on the phone directory, but he knew it by heart.

“.  . . need you to get away on Wednesday instead.”

******

“Since when did you have a class on Wednesday? You didn’t tell me about that. Well, how about Friday?”

******

“What the fuck study group?” his voice was starting to rise.

********

“Yes, I know mid-terms are coming. You’re telling me that? Like I don’t know. This is bullshit, Alice. I’m not sure you have your priorities straight.”

*******

“No, don’t apologize. Just figure out who’s important in your life is all.”

********

“No, we’re done. Later.” He hung up the phone with a click. He yanked the dog’s leash and dragged him back to the apartment building.

                                                                        ###

That Sunday, Shin was at church with the girls and Robert was down at the marina again. He had gotten that new hook and stopped at the bait shop.

“Yoboseyo, Chin Shi.” He called out.

“Haseyo, Professor Shi,” the bait man replied. “Big fish today?”

Bob nodded. “Need lots of chum today.”

He was over at the refrigerator and pulled out two beers, water and a wrapped Asian roll. He had been in such a hurry to leave home; he had forgotten to stock up.

“Sure, sure.” The bait man, a fat, fifty-something guy with worn and dirty pants and shirt, hurried to fill the bucket.

Bob put down his money.

“Little cold today,” the bait man offered.

Bob yanked his thumb under the lapel of his heavy jacket.

“I’m good.”

“You get that fish today, Professor Shi?”

“Today,” Robert nodded. “Today.” He turned and clumped down to the wharf and threw everything into the skiff and jumped in after.

Sitting in the skiff, he started the engine and undid the rope coil to the dock.

“Today is the day for that little bastard.” He clenched his jaw.

Two hours later, the sun was up in the sky and the warmth was making him sleepy. His line was in the water, and he had caught one small fish. In disgust, he threw it back.

He had eaten the Asian roll and finished off both beers. Hat was tilted over his eyes; Robert was almost dozing off, leaning against the side of the boat as it gently rocked with the current.

There was a soft splash and then some saltwater hit him in the face. He jerked up.

“Hey, asshole.”

Robert yanked up straight and looked wildly around. Was someone trying to get on his boat? Where were they?

“Dickhead, you. Down here.”

He blinked his eyes and then, slowly, leaned over the edge of the boat.

“Jesus!” the man exclaimed.

The grouper was next to his boat, treading water. Robert grabbed his rod.

“Oh, forget that you idiot.”

The rod and reel dropped with a clang to the bottom of the boat. The professor’s eyes got big, and his mouth hung open.

Did that fish just talk to me? He rubbed his eyes with both hands and stared.

“Yes, I did.” The fish seemed to be answering him. “You’re just a real regular idiot, aren’t you? Isn’t that what your father used to call you? Idiot on stork legs?”

Robert’s mouth worked but nothing came out.

“Cat got your tongue, idiot?”

“How-how-how did you. . .?”

“I know a lot of things. A lot of things in general and really a lot of things about you in particular. Like, you’re a real regular asshole. Your wife hates you, your kids are terrified of you, your girlfriend . . . “

“What!” Robert’s head was spinning. A talking fish.

“Yeah. Talking fish. Pretty cool huh? Bet they don’t have that in the States, huh?”

The man sat down hard on the bench.

“What-what-what. . .?”

“What do I want? Well, hum.” The fish swam around a couple of times. “Let me think about that. Maybe I’m feeling generous, and I came to give you a heads up.”

“Heads up?”

“Yeah. Heads up on account of you’re a jerk, buddy. Big time.”

Robert stared at the fish, speechless.

Another squirt of water hit him in the face.

“Hey, wake up. I don’t got all day.”

“So . …?”

“People don’t like you, Professor. Do they? Cause you’re a mean jerk.”

Robert seemed to come to himself.

“No, no. Ah, ah. . .  I run a tight ship is all. A lot of people don’t like that. They have no discipline, no ethics, no moral code. They are used to getting something for nothing and doing nothing for it. I make people earn their money!” The man was starting to get indignant.

“Ah, bullshit. You’re a crap boss and you have all the employees tattling on each other and ratting each other out. All the time, Professor. All the time!”

“How would you know? You’re just a fish. I have built the department up from the ground floor. It was nothing when I got here. I have made something of the place. And the school has never been doing better.”

“You’re fooling yourself, asshole. They tolerate you because you get results. Regardless of the cost.”

“Of course, I get results. I am known for that.” Roberts’s chin went up.

“You’re known for being the biggest asshole around.”

“So, what?” He replied. “We’re getting our funding, and the students are making the grades.”

“And your employees are drinking themselves to death. Did you ever think about that, Professor? Hum? That little, tiny thought ever cross your pea brain?”

“What they drink or don’t drink is not my problem.” Robert was pulling in his line.

“Yeah, well, that’s one way of looking at it.”

“They are adults, they make their own choices,” Robert replied primly.

“I’m getting tired of talking to you, idiot,” the fish replied.

“I don’t know what you expect,” Robert told him.

There was a splash. “As long as you keep doing what you’re doing, you’ll keep getting what you’re getting.” The voice trailed away and with another slap of the tail against the water, the fish disappeared.

Robert stared at where the fish had been.

Am I losing my mind? He thought to himself. About to cast the line again, he decided against it and stowed his gear. Restarting the engine, he headed for shore. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see no sign of the fish.

I am not telling anyone about this, he promised himself, shaking his head. No one.

Continued Part III

                                                                        ###

Unrequited

07 Wednesday Feb 2024

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Some romances are more difficult than others.

Courtney Webb

She danced in his strong arms. They whirled around the parquet floor. Fairy lights twinkled above, and she could see flashes of herself in the floor to ceiling plate-glass mirrors.

The Strauss waltz played, and Jane threw her head back the way they had taught her. Her left hand on his shoulder, the right arm up and out to the side, almost rigid. His strong handsome features were above her. His salt and pepper hair glinted in the lights. She didn’t really need to look; she had his face memorized. Nearly seared into her brain, in truth. They spun around and around.

Her new dance shoes were holding up well. Her feet didn’t even hurt. The new dress was  gently used from the top-end resale shop in the area. When one of the girls told her about it. Jane jumped in her old Chevy and zipped down there as soon as possible. She was happy with the purchase. It was clean, fit and the little rhinestones glinted nicely in the semi-dim lights.

Larry, her dance partner, was dressed in his usual all black attire. That is all he ever wore. It suited him Jane decided. It showed off the silver in his hair and the icy blue of his eyes. She couldn’t look into those eyes without haven’t the physical sensation of falling backwards. Wow! He was something. Where had he been her whole life? Tall, strong, handsome, caring. Whew!

There were other people on the dance floor also dancing and others sitting on the cushy benches to the side of the floor. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything else in the world. While they were dancing everyone else ceased to exist.

Jane let out a happy sigh. His wife would never know.

Jane was very happy with her new job as a receptionist at the dance school. It was a definite step up from the waitressing she had been doing at the bar and grill. Not that Bistro 30 was a bad place really. The clientele was steady, and the tips were good. It was just…well, the drinking. As Jane sat at the desk sorting receipts she thought back.

                                                            #

Dr. P looked at her intently as she sat on the padded exam table. She shifted uncomfortably on the white paper cover. He stood leaning against the counter, her file in his hands, studying it again. There was a frown on his dark, tanned face. He looked up at her. The black eyes were kind.

Jane really hated that. The kindness. Fuck him! Rich Indian shit with your fancy schools. She called him Dr. P because that is what everyone called him. None of the Americans could start to pronounce the twelve-letter last name. It would have been better if he had been mean to her, harsh. She was used to that. Used to men talking down to her like she was a three-year-old. A stupid three-year-old. Just because she was slight of build and on the short side. With her huge green eyes, men couldn’t help talking to her like she was, what? A life-sized doll?

Jane braced herself. She didn’t like the look on Dr. P’s face. He had ordered an intense series of gastro tests on her. All of which she was sure were unnecessary. It was just a little upset stomach, that’s all. She had them all the time. Some Pepto-bismo and aspirin …

Dr. P coughed and cleared his throat. “So, Jane. We got the test results back. I told you it would take some days, right?”

She nodded. I’m not stupid. Get on with it already.

“It looks like what I thought. Gastritis.”

“Gas what?”

“Gastritis. It’s an inflammation of the stomach lining.”

“Well, so? Can’t you give me something for it and I’ll be on my way?” Jane started to inspect the posters on the wall.

“Ah, well. It’s not quite that simple. I think we discussed this is kind of unusual in a person your age.” He glanced at the file again. “Twenty-nine, I believe.”

She nodded with disinterest.

“Right,” he closed the file. “Also, we touched on the subject of alcohol and how that might be affecting the condition.”

She continued to stare off into middle distance.

The doctor sat down on the exam room chair. “I will have the nurse give you some pamphlets on proper care for you to read at home.” He paused and waited.

“Okay,” she finally said and looked at him. It was obvious he had something else to say.

“Jane, it is important you understand that what you have is not fatal, but it is chronic, and it will not go away on its own. With proper diet and staying completely away from alcohol …” his eyes flicked to her face, “you should see rapid improvement in your symptoms and should be well on your way to being your old self.”

“Okay,” was her monosyllabic response.

Dr. P glanced into the file again. “Ah, did we discuss the amount you have been drinking per day?”

“Yeah, we did. I don’t know for sure. Maybe a couple of beers a day at the bar.”

“Ah, couple of beers,” he studied the file again.

“Look, Dr. P.” Jane was starting to get defensive now. “I’ll follow your dumb plan. I can take the stuff or leave it alone. I’m not an alcoholic, for God’s sake!” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

“Oh, no. No one is suggesting anything.” He smiled at her warmly. “We just want you to get better. Right?”

Jane uncrossed her arms and let them drop into her lap. “Yeah, okay. Right. You’re just trying to help.” She folded her hands together and head down, examined them.

“Exactly,” Dr. P reached out and gave her arm a little pat. “We don’t want this thing progressing into … something … more serious.”

She jerked her head up to look at him.

He smiled again, affably. “Nurse will be in to give you those pamphlets in a minute. I’m leaving a script for those antibiotics we talked about. See you in about two months?”

She nodded her head, face down toward her lap again.

“Fine. See you then.” Dr. P opened the door and closing it behind him, dropped the chart in the metal bin next to the door. He hit the button for the nurse and walked away shaking his head.

Continued Part II