Author Archives: Susan

LIFE IS SHORT, MAKE EACH DAY COUNT

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Pitman Theater- Pitman, NJ Photo by Bob Culver

The man skipped, jumped, and ran for short distances as he made his way down the city street. He was on the main thoroughfare, but he could have been anywhere. He seemed to have no real destination in mind. But he was in an awful hurry to get there. Suddenly, he stopped cold and ran to the curb. An old bike was parked on the sidewalk. It was a vintage 1950’s red Schwinn Panther. A girl’s bike with a basket on the handlebars and a knee-action spring fork, whitewall tires, chrome-plated fenders, and a slightly rusty chrome-trimmed tank with a built-in horn that had an American Flag attached to it.

In addition to the Flag, the bike is covered with First Prize ribbons of every color and condition imaginable. It must have been a childhood collection of awards for spelling, penmanship, grammar, math, and art. They hung from every surface of the bike. It was quite a sight. He hopped on the bike with a grace that seemed impossible for a man his age. He had a gray scraggly beard down to his chest. His mustache was waxed and stood out four inches on either side of his rosy cheeks. His hair was long, and he wore it in two braids down his back. There was a tiny flag on each braid. The kind you saw years ago when you ordered a drink at a bar on the Fourth of July.

He continued down the street on the bike at breakneck speed. He started singing loudly. At first, it was difficult to understand because of his speed and his raspy voice. But once he got his momentum up, he sang in a deep baritone voice. He was singing The Fortunate Son by Credence Clearwater Revival. His voice grew louder, and stronger as he flew down the street on his two-wheeled chariot. He threw back his head and sang, “Some folks are born made to wave the flag. They’re red, white and blue. And when the band plays, Hail to the Chief, they point the cannon at you.”

Suddenly, a voice rang out,” Sam, what’s your hurry come on over here and let’s have breakfast. Sam pulled over to the curb with alacrity and skill. He put the kickstand down and said,” Long time no see you old goat.”

“Look who’s calling me an old goat, Walt. You look like you haven’t taken a good look in the mirror for about fifty years.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Well, so where’s this breakfast going to take place?”

“How about at The Sunny Side Up breakfast place down the street?”

“Can you believe it?

 I just found my bike after two days. Some kid must have grabbed it, drove downtown, and just ditched it.  I don’t know what I do without my Old Glory.

“I bet no one would recognize you without that old bike, Sam. It’s really a collector’s piece, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Walt, but it’s more than that. It’s my connection between the past and the present. That bike belonged to my wife when she was a little girl. God rest her soul.”

“Yes, Marie was a fantastic woman, I don’t know how you were so lucky to marry her, half the guys in town were in love with her.”

“We had a happy marriage I have no complaints other than she left me too soon. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of her.”

“So, Sam what have you been up to lately? I know you are always up to something?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I have been working pretty hard. I got a job repairing the organ in the theater. Well, I not just repairing it, I’m restoring it. You know the one that was used back in the day when Vaudeville used to come to the Pitman Theater. Did you know it’s a player piano as well?”

“No, I didn’t, Sam.”

“Well Walt, I just started working on it a couple of days ago. But I already found one of the problems. There were some letters hidden under the strings that were inhibiting the percussion of the instrument. The letters looked really old.  It’s possible they even predated the piano. I can’t figure out how they might have ended up where I found them. I believe they might have been deliberately placed there by someone.”

“You’re kidding me, Sam. I would love to take a look at them. Let’s talk about this when we’re eating breakfast.”

As they walked through the door of the Sunny Side Up restaurant, a bell chimed and Henry Decker the cook yelled out,” Sit anywhere you like, our waitress called out sick. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Hey, so what can I get you guys? What’s going on? It looks like you two both swallowed a canary or two.”

“Well, I’ll have the special, plus two biscuits and a black coffee straight up, thanks.”

“Hey, that sounds good to me, make that two. Henry.”

“Well, Sam here is about to tell me about some letters he found in the player piano that he’s repairing. I mean restoring for the theater. You know that old organ that was used back in the Vaudeville days.”

“You don’t say, what kind of letters?”

“To tell you the truth I’ve been so busy that I haven’t taken the time to look them over. But they’re all yellow. So, I know they’re old. I’ll let you know once I study them a bit.”

“Ok then Sam, do that. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your coffee, and then I’ll cook you up some fried eggs and ham, Sam. Get it, fried eggs and ham, Sam?”

“Yeah, ’cause I haven’t heard that a million times before. Get busy. And don’t give up your day job to be a comedian, Henry.”

“Sam, you have always been such a spoilsport, you were an old man before your time. I think you might have been born an old man. Lighten up already, won’t you? So, Sam tells me something about the history of the Theater and the organ.”

“Well, Walt, it’s really kind of interesting, I’d be happy to. The Broadway Theater opened up in 1926. Movies but also Vaudeville shows were shown. There were about one thousand seats. Some of the most famous acts and performers played there. Would you believe that Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, Abbot and Costello? Not to mention Jerry Lee Lewis and George Carlin. I really loved George Carlin. And a lot more, real stars.

“That’s really something, right here in our little town of Pitman. I guess people came from all over to see it.”

“I imagine they did. Wouldn’t that be something if we saw all those great performers back in the day.”

“I’ll tell you something, Walt, I really consider it an honor to be repairing that organ. It really is a thing of beauty. Stop by and I’ll show you what I’ve been doing, it’s not everybody that has the skill to work on a vintage organ like this one. And you can take a look at those letters I was telling you about.”

“Here ya go fellas, enjoy. I have to keep moving since I’m the staff today. Talk to you later.”

“Come on Walt, let’s go, that was a great meal. Times a wasting.”

As they walk down Main Street, they run into the editor of the town newspaper. She stops them on their way into the theater. “Hey, guys, what’s happening?”

“Hello Constance, I’m just going to show Walt the Kimball Organ that I’m restoring. Would you like to come along?”

“Sure, I have about a half-hour to kill before my next meeting with the Pitman Historical Society. We are trying to find ways of funding the repairs on the Grove Building, especially the old Methodist Meeting Hall.”

As they step into the main hall, they all stop and look around. Constance exclaims, “Wow, I’m always surprised when I come in here. It’s really something, isn’t it a grand place? Those chandeliers are just breathtaking. You know I really ought to do another pictorial about this place. It’s really coming together. It looks great.”

“Here it is. Oh, Constance, I was telling Walt that one of the reasons the organ wasn’t operating was that there were some old letters preventing the organ from working properly.”

“Really, Sam? Well, let’s have a look at it.”

The three gazed down at the organ. “Yep, just how I remember it. This will be a real centerpiece when you finished, Sam. You are doing a great job here. We all appreciate your time and talent. I bet there aren’t too many people left who would know how to work on this instrument.”

“Thanks, Constance, oh, here are those letters I was telling you about.”

Constance picks up the letters and begins scanning the top one. “What the? Hey, this sounds like a love letter. It’s signed, your Raymond. Let me see that envelope, Sam. What the… This is Raymond Goldstone Sr. Well, I’ll be dammed Raymond Goldstone, the magician. Wait, who is he writing to? Let me see the first page again. It says, Dear Madeleine. Do you know who that is?”

“No, not offhand I don’t, but I would guess it is someone that worked in the theater in the late 1920 and early 1930s. I bet you could find out Constance. Don’t you have copies of all the old newspapers from back then?”

“You’re right. We do. Let me see a couple more of the letters, Sam.”

“Sure, here you can take them. They might get lost in here with all the construction that is going on.”

“Sam, Walt, I  have an inspiration. We can publish these letters in The Pitman News and World Report once a month like a serial. People would eat this up, it would get more people from out of town to read and subscribe to the paper. And maybe even bring people to the Theater to see the scene of the crime so to speak. But I’m going to have to do a lot of research first. This is so exciting, I’m so happy I ran into you two days. I’m really psyched.”

“Hey, do you really think this will work, Constance?”

“You bet I do, and I think we could get this to go national. And then we’re talking big time. Pitman is really going to become famous. Raymond Goldstone, one of the world’s most talented and famous magicians in love with a hometown Pitman lady. I have to go and start doing some research. I’ll let you two know what I found out. Let’s meet again on Monday morning at Sunny Side Up for coffee and I’ll let you know what or if I found out who our mysterious Madeleine is.”

“Alright, great Sam, Walt, I’m excited about this. It could be the answer to our prayers.”

On Monday morning Sam and Walt are waiting patiently on the bench outside Sunny Side Up when they see her heading in their direction.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late. Something always happens at the last minute when I’m about to go out the door. Oh well, forget about all that. I have some news. I think I have a candidate for our mysterious Madeleine. And perhaps a picture of her. There was Madeleine Summers who was the costume designer for all the Vaudeville Shows back in the day. Apparently, she was the daughter of one of the founding fathers of Pitman. So, all of this must have been kept under wraps. Her family was very much involved in the Methodist Church.”

 

“You gotta be kidding me. Can you imagine the stink if anyone back then found out about her and Raymond? So, hand it over, I want to see the picture of this femme fatal.”

Wait a minute, and I want to see it too?” Sam chimes in.

Alright, Sam, you too, Walt, take a gander. I imagine she was considered quite the looker back in the day. Was she married?”

“Not that I could find any evidence of, I guess she would have been considered an Old Maid. Of course, people got married young back then. Usually, the man was quite a bit older than the bride.”

“Wow, Connie, she was a looker—the face of an angel. Well, I guess a fallen angel. But still quite a beauty. Those eyes are mesmerizing, indeed quite the looker. Do any of her family live in Pitman live here any longer?”

“Not that I can find any evidence of Walt which is good since we wouldn’t want any descendants causing any trouble. Well. I guess she didn’t have any children, or it would be in the census. At least none that I could find.

“From what I have been able to glean, the last family member was a sibling of Madeleine. One Matilda, who was a few years younger than Madeleine and she never married either. Which is a little weird, but nonetheless? Neither one ever married. So says the court documents I spent three days perusing. Oh, one more thing I found some pictures of Raymond doing his famous cutting a woman in half with a buzz saw. And it looks like she must have filled in a couple of times for his assistant. Take a gander at this.”

“Look at her. That costume must have caused a real stir back then. Weren’t most women still wearing wool bathing suits down to the knees back then?”

“No, I think by the early 1930, ’s Latex was invented, and women wore one-piece latex form-fitting bathing suits. But nothing like this outfit. Walt.”

“Hey, Walt, let me have a look already.”

“Take it easy, Sam, you don’t want to have a stroke or something. It might be more than you can take.”

“Woah, she was a looker, all right.”

“OK, you guys settle down. She passed away in the early 1970s. Apparently, never married. No kids, as I told you before. I don’t know what happened between them.  Or when it ended but I do know that Goldstone toured all over the country for a while and he did some spots on TV. He retired in the early 1950s. He was married and, of course, had a son named after him. Raymond Goldstone Jr., was a magician as well. I guess you could call it a family business.”

“Connie, is there any indication in the letters that his wife knew about what was going on between Harry Sr. and Madeleine?”

“No, Walt, not in any of the letters. But I did find out that Goldstone Sr. was married three times. So, I don’t know the timeline of these marriages. But back then, three times was not all that common. But if you are a famous magician and you travel all the time. Well, you get lonely. And women are sometimes attracted to famous and glamorous people. And a magician, you can expect many women would be flattered by his attention.”

“Well, Connie, what do you think about publishing one of the letters?”

“Walt, I think we could do that without revealing the names of the Blackstone and Madeleine. See if we get any response from the readers. Let me get one of the first letters, and you can publish it. See what happens. Here’s one that I think will get some attention and not too risqué.”

Dear Ray, I miss you so much. Each moment without you feels like an eternity. I feel like I have known you all my life. You understand me like no other person I’ve ever known. You brought such magic and light into my life. And without you, there is only darkness. I miss your magical touch. I miss your breath against my skin. I have never trusted anyone as I trust you with my heart, my soul. Every part of me yearns for you. Every minute of my life is a moment wasted without you in it. The distance between us might as well be the distance between the Earth and the sun. There is only a void where you once lie next to me. Please, my love, tell me when I can see you again. Where can we meet? Just say the word, and I will be there.  Love, Maddy.

“Walt, what do you think? How about you, Sam? Should I go ahead and print it? No names; maybe we could give some hints about the time and circumstances surrounding this affair. And let people guess their identities. What do you two think?”

“Go for it. Connie.”

“Yeah, as Walt says, go for it.”

“Connie, let me and Sam know what kind of feedback you have about the story. “

“Alright, I will, and if I have any news between now and our next meeting, I’ll contact you.”

“Great, Connie, we’ll see you next week, same place, same time. Take Care.”

“Bye Walt, bye Sam, see you soon.”

The following Friday night, Connie gives Walt a call. “Hello, Walt, this is Connie. I’m glad I caught you at home. I don’t know if you read the Pitman News and World Report this past week, but I published the article. And I included the love letter. And my phone hasn’t stopped ringing all week. You know what a sleepy town Pitman is? Well, get ready because things are going to get exciting really soon.”

“Exciting, in what way, Connie?”

“Walt, well, get this; one of the former residents of Pitman still gets the Pitman News, and World Report sent to her in the mail. And she has been living in New York City for the past five years. She happens to work on Fifth Avenue, and she is an actress. And she’s doing a play on 42nd Street. She knows a lot of famous people in the City.

“Yeah, so what?

“So, she contacted a writer for the New York Times that she dated for a while. And, he loved the story, and he’s going to be coming here to talk to guess who?”

“OK, Connie, I’ll bite. Who does he want to talk to?”

“Oh, Walt, us. What do you think? You, me, and Sam.”

“And if he likes what he hears and sees, the story could go national. And then, who knows what will happen? It could really put Pitman on the map. And our theater will really get some attention then. How about we meet for breakfast in the middle of the week? Say on Thursday and discuss any new possibilities. And Walt, we can then go with you to the theater and see how the renovations are coming along.”

 On Thursday morning at nine o’clock sharp, Sam arrives on his bike, and Walt pulls up to the curb in his 1957 mint condition Cherry-red Chevy Bel Air two-door hardtop. “Hey, guys and gals. I’m really enjoying getting out and eating breakfast with you two. Since I usually spend most of the day alone working in the theater on the piano.”

“Hello Sam, I must say I’m enjoying the break too. I rarely get to sit down and eat. I usually eat takeout on my way from one place to another. So, Sam, how are the renovations on the piano going anyway?”

“Connie, things are going along swimmingly. In fact, I will soon be finished. You were so wired about Raymond Goldstone and the woman. You haven’t asked about the player piano in a while. I have made some real headway. I believe I will have it back in working condition in a couple of weeks. It has been really challenging too. I don’t think I mentioned it before, but this piano is unique. It is actually a 3/8 Kimball theatre pipe organ. A unique instrument considering its size. Did you know there is a pipe organ blower room in the basement? I had to replace some of the pipes.”

 “That’s fantastic, Sam; I’m proud of you. Not too many people with your skills around anymore, pretty much a lost art.”

“Thanks, Connie, and I have enjoyed every minute of it. Hey, my stomach is growling.”

“Speaking of which, you two, I already ordered breakfast for the three of us. Since we always get the same thing. It should be ready in a moment or two. Let’s go in.

 “Connie, maybe you should get the newspaper’s photographer out to the theater and take some pictures of the theater and the player piano. It would be great publicity. And everyone should be informed of the great work our hometown boy here, Sam, has done.”

“You’re right, Walt, that’s a great idea. But do you really think there is a photographer on the Pitman News and World Report’s staff?”

“Isn’t there?”

“Oh, you got to be kidding me, Walt? I’m the writer and the editor and the publisher and the photographer. I run the whole thing from top to bottom.”

“You’re kidding, I didn’t realize that. You are a walking, talking dynamo. Aren’t you, Connie?”

“Yeah, Walt, that’s me, the human dynamo.”

“Oh wait, less talk and more eating; here comes our food. I’m starved.” Sam interjects.

“Well, that really hit the spot. Do you want to split the bill or what?”

“Sam, Connie, let me take care of this. And I think we should see how your piano is coming and the restoration of the theater. It might be possible that we’ll be holding a celebration in the theater. If everything goes the way, I hope it will. Let’s go.”

“I’ll take care of the tip, Sam and Walt. Let’s hit the road.”

 “So, here we are, times a waste. Well, Connie and Walt, do you notice anything different about the front of the Theater? No, well, why don’t you cross the other side of Broadway and take a look at the Marquee? Alright, do you see anything different from over there?”

“Wow, this is fantastic. It says, “Grand Reopening on May 18th.” Wait, isn’t that the day the Spring Craft Fair begins this year? What a great idea, at least 10,000 people come to the fair.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Walt, that was my idea because I knew the piano would be ready and the renovations will be completed this week. Can you believe it? Come on, let’s go in, and you can take a gander. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

As they walk into the vestibule, Walt and Connie stand in awe staring at the chandeliers. The lights are sparkling through the crystals and sending rays of light on the ceiling and the walls. The plaster molding is intact and painted in the original colors.

“Sam, it really looks gorgeous. Is this new carpet on the floor?”

“Nope, we had a specialty company that cleans vintage rugs come in and clean all the carpets and made a few repairs. They really did an amazing job. And the best thing is that they didn’t charge anything because we are going to set up a table for them at the craft fair.

You know there are a lot of people here in Pitman living in Victorian Houses that have vintage carpets and can use their service. Plus, they are going to advertise in the newspaper and on the internet and use pictures of the Theater.”

“Well, what about the molding? It looks new?”

“Connie, I think I mentioned before they found the original molds in the basement of the theater. And we hired a plasterer in Mullica Hill to make molding from the original molds to replace the damaged ones. Don’t they look great?”

“Ok, so let’s go look inside the theater. I left the lights on so you would get the full effect of the Victorian lighting and the stage lit up around the piano and the orchestra pit.”

“Tada, kind of magical, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you can say that again Sam. It is absolutely magical. Just the effect we wanted it to have when it is shown to the public.”

“Alright, take a seat, and I’ll turn down the lights and turn on the piano. Close your eyes. I’ll tell you when I want you to look.”

Sam makes his way behind the stage and hits the lights on the orchestra pit, and then comes on stage and turns on the player piano. As Walt and Connie look about in awe, they hear. “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” soundtrack. And they start clapping. And then they see a movie screen descends, and There is Judy Garland singing her heart out.

“Oh, Sam, I am so impressed. The theater looks amazing. And Judy Garland up there on the screen, who could top her?”

“Here’s my baby, and the surprise is, she’s finished, completely restored to her grand self. Here’s a little background information just in case you don’t realize how awesome this piano is. First of all, it is a self-playing piano. It has a mechanism that operates and controls the piano with pre-recorded music on this perforated paper called rolls. And this beauty here is also a pipe organ. And as I mentioned before, there is a blower room in the basement. It’s now in excellent condition, and the piano had no vacuum leaks. I was able to contact The QRS Company out of Buffalo, New York, and I ordered all new rolls.”

“Congratulations, Sam, you have really surpassed our expectations.”

“Thanks, Connie it was challenging, and I’m proud of myself. I have already received two calls from prospective clients who would like me to see if I can get their player pianos in working order.”

“Oh Sam, let me get some pictures of you and this beautiful player piano that’s also a pipe organ. Why don’t you stand next to the piano? And that way, we get the piano in all of its beauty next to one of the few people who could have resurrected it. Wonderful, I have some great shots to choose from for the paper this week.

—–“Great job, Sam. I knew you had it in you. Let’s go take a look at the rest of the theater. And see how much progress has been made.”

“I have to make a stop in the ladies’ room, guys. I’ll meet you in the lobby in a few minutes. And then I have some news to tell you.”

“Sure, Connie, take your time; we’ll wait for you.”

“Thanks, guy. I won’t be long.”

Walt and Sam are walking around the lobby, looking at all the subtle changes that have occurred since the renovation began. “Oh, Walt, look over here at the snack counter. They found an original popcorn popper from the early 1920s and get this a cotton candy machine.”

“Oh, Sam, they are really awesome. They are going to blow people away and look at all that candy. Including some of my favorites, red hot dollars, candy buttons, watermelon slices, green leaves, licorice whips, and my very favorite sugar daddies. I feel a sugar rush just looking at all this candy.”

“Oh, hey guys, sorry to take so long. Well, it really looks great. Look at all that candy. You know, when I was a kid, I practically ruined my teeth with all the candy I ate. At Halloween, I used to go out Trick or Treating until ten o’clock at night. I had a pillowcase, and I would fill it to the top. Then the next day I would eat so much of it. I would feel sick.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You can add my name to that list to Connie and Walt. I was a candyholic. So, what’s the big surprise, Connie?”

“OK, hold on, this is going to make the top of your head blow off. Ready…”

“Yeah, we’re ready. Tell us already, Connie.”

“Well, a few weeks back, I mentioned that I knew a guy who knew a guy who worked on the NY Times, and he wrote an article about what we are doing here in Pitman Theater. And he mentioned all the famous people that played in our little town. And guess what???”

“What already? What do you want a drum roll?” asked Walt.

“Couldn’t hurt Walt. Well, one of his readers is distantly related to our own Raymond Goldstone, and he has agreed to come to Pitman the day of the grand reopening, and he inherited all that remains of the Goldstone’s magic box, including the buzz saw. And get this, he is a magician, and he is willing to perform some of his magic in our own little Pitman Theater. That’s right here in person the day of the Grand Reopening and the Pitman Craft Show. Ta Da.”

“Holy Mackerel, this is absolutely awesome. This is going to put our town on the map.”

“Yeah, it will, and I am going to advertise this event from now until the Big Day—all thanks to our buddy here, Sam. Who has turned out to be quite the magician himself. Take a bow, buddy. You are our hero. Take a bow, Sam, you deserve it.”

And with that, Sam took a deep bow. His face is as red as a beet. He never felt this good in his whole life. His smile reaches from ear to ear. And the day of the Craft Fair, people come from far and wide and had to be bussed from all the small towns around Pitman. There isn’t a single parking spot left for miles. Over forty thousand people showed up. And it did indeed put the little town of Pitman on the map.

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

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BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Time Man Alarm Clock by Miriam Fotos Pixabay

Harry realizes he’s going to be late for work yet again. Jack Loman, his boss at Berkeley’s Department Store, is going to fire him for sure. Harry already has three warnings.

He jumps out of bed and dashes into the bathroom. He quickly washes his face and hands, brushes his teeth, and runs a comb through his overgrown hair. He needs a shave. But no time for that. No time for a shower either. He pulls on yesterday’s clothes that he had tossed over the shower door last night. Checked his pants pockets for his wallet. Grabs his shoes and dirty socks and runs out the front door and slams it shut, and quick steps it to his car. He pulls on the door and realizes it’s locked, and he doesn’t have the keys. “Crap.”

Harry considers putting on his shoes and socks but decides to forgo it. He runs so fast toward the door that he thinks he might have been lifted off the ground for a few moments. He jerks the doorknob hard and nearly dislocates his shoulder. He realizes the door is indeed locked.

Harry thinks,” What now? What now?” He screams a thousand expletives in his head and jumps up a down a few times for good measure. He knows, at some level, he is acting like a five-year-old having a tantrum. He has lost it. He is going to be late again. His boss warned him the next time he was late, his goose is cooked, and he was getting fired. There won’t be any other chances. He’s done; no going back from fired.

At that moment, he realizes that he left the kitchen window open last night. If he is able to boost himself up somehow, he can get his keys. And it isn’t totally impossible that he might just make it to work if he drives like a demon. He decides to go for it.

He double-times it to the back of the house, blocking out the pain of stepping on sticks and stones the whole way. He sees the window. He decides to take a flying leap by running at top speed and propelling himself through the open window. He makes it, and then he realizes there is a full sink of dirty dishes in the sink. He hits the dishes and cups and forks and spoons head first. Luckily there aren’t any steak knives in there.

“Shit.” He screams at the top of his voice. His face feels like he got hit by a Mach Truck. He rolls out of the sink headfirst and lands on his back with his legs splayed out in front of him. He doesn’t know how he even accomplished it. But it seems like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a hurricane. He feels his face; there is some bleeding but not too bad. He might look like he got into some kind of brawl at a biker bar. At least, that’s what he plans on telling everyone.

He pushes himself up off the floor. And limps over to the hooks by the door and reaches out to grab his keys. They aren’t there. He has a strong impulse to jump up and down again. He manages to suppress it.

At that moment, he pats his pants pockets. And low and behold, his keys are in his pants pocket. If he weren’t sore all over, he would do an Irish Jig. Instead, he heads out the back door towards the driveway, keys in hand. He slams them home in the door lock and yanks the door open. This hurts his arm and shoulder.

He gets in the car and starts it up. The engine grinds a little but doesn’t start up right away, and then it suddenly catches. As the engine catches and Harry backs out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. And he puts the peddle to the metal and is finally on his way.

He takes Main Street to Poplar Avenue and sees the turn for Interstate 40, and enters the highway without really looking. And he nearly hits the guy in front of him. He shoots him the bird. Harry keeps going; barring some unforeseen event, he should be getting off the 40 in about six minutes. And that is when he realizes that the red warning light is telling him he’s out of gas. His car stops as Harry pulls it to the shoulder of the road. Harry repeatedly bangs the steering wheel with his open palms. A tear rolls down his battered cheek. He pulls the keys out and stuffs them in his pocket.

He slams the door shut and starts walking off the ramp onto Mt. Ephraim Blvd. As he walks, he sticks his thumb out, hoping someone, anyone, will take pity on him and give him a ride.

After about five minutes of walking down the busy road, he is covered in dust and even managed to step on a dead animal of some kind. He doesn’t bother to take a closer look. He hears someone beep at him, either telling him to move or offering to give him a ride.

He looks back at the car beeping, and he sees some fat guy gesturing at him to get in his car, which he has slowed down to a halt. He walks over to the car, and the guy gestures at him to get in. He does. Harry is about to say,” Thanks, buddy,” when he realizes that the fat guy in the driver’s seat is none other than his boss. He doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh, so he does both.

His boss leans over and says, “Rough morning, Harry?”

Corona Virus- May 2nd, 2020

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Another week has passed, and I’m still here, and so are you if you are reading this. I ‘m glad for that. May is my favorite month. Probably because my birthday is May 24 and it’s Spring. The season I love the most.

Photo by Bob Culver

Early Spring – our small Koi pond

As I look out my kitchen window, I see our little pond that we made three and a half years ago when we first moved here to North Carolina. The Irises and Peonies are in full bloom, and I can see the Koi swimming happily around in a circle. Their world is small, but they never knew any other life, and so they are content.

Unfortunately, none of us can say the same. It was such a short time ago that our lives were so different. I wake up every morning and remember again that my life and yours and everyone’s has changed perhaps forever. We will probably never feel the same again. We will never feel completely safe or that our loved ones are safe either. On the news, on the internet, we are reminded that this Virus will probably return every winter to threaten our very lives and way of life.

This fact is a reminder that we humans never had control of many things in our world. We all believed that we were in charge, but we are not. We live on this planet, but it does not belong to us. We have not respected it, we have polluted the land, the air, the water. We are steadily depopulating our world of hundreds, if not thousands of species that shared the earth.

We are greedily killing them by deforestation, or murdering them as a recreational activity. We have polluted the ocean with our plastics waste and garbage and trash. We have caused the climate change that is occurring as I write this.

The weather here in NC is schizophrenic during this past winter we had days when the temperature was 87 degrees and then the next it dropped down to the mid-thirties. We were inundated with rain and wind. You never knew what the next day’s weather would be. Last summer, the heat was unbearable, and the hottest Summer ever recorded. Natures way of reminding us that we are not in charge. And that actions have consequences.

And yet because we humans have to isolate ourselves at home, there have been positive changes. The air quality is improving all across the globe because we are not driving our cars on the roads and in our cities.

Animals feel safe coming out and visiting areas that they haven’t been seen in decades. There is a healing taking place on our planet, and it is a clear message that we humans are the cause of the problems. That all our thoughtless, selfish actions have had devastating consequences. Can we learn this lesson? I hope so. This time of loss for us has given us perhaps our last chance to change our behavior and save ourselves and our home, the earth.  We have an opportunity to look at a distance and gain a better perspective,

My hope is we do acknowledge that we have perhaps our last opportunity to save our planet, our home. And we can start making the changes that will ultimately rescue this planet and ourselves.

__________________________________

LOVEY

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Lovey, the circus elephant

Lovey is exhausted and anxious. She’s been cooped up in the hot, dirty van for almost two days. Her legs are restless; she’s so thirsty that she begins to tremble. She trumpets her fear and discomfort for all to hear if anyone bothers to listen. She’s angry. She hasn’t felt anything for a long time, but she feels red-hot anger now. She rocks back and forth, hitting the sides of the van so violently that the van sways and rocks with her. The driver of the van yells, “Stop Lovey, stop” to no avail. He calls his boss on his cell phone. “You have to stop, so I can let Lovey out, or she’s going to cause herself and the van untold damage.”

The owner agrees to stop in the next empty lot he sees. And stay for the night, take care of the animals, and let everyone rest before their next performance. The last caravan pulls into the deserted parking lot well past midnight. Time and the sun have faded the painting of the bearded lady on the side of the van. But you can still clearly see her glamorous figure clad in a red, white, and blue ballerina tutu. Her glorious red beard is there for all to admire.

They had driven almost six hundred miles in the last two days. Everyone in the Three Ringed Circus is extremely tired, hot, and sweaty. It was getting harder and harder to find new venues. The public wants to see the glamour and incredible feats of courage and flying acrobats, doing death-defying acts. They want their animals wild, but safe, looking healthy and happy. But they weren’t getting that from Three-Ring Circus. It’s on the last leg of a journey that began its’ history in the early 1950s. Most of the famous performers have retired or moved on, or just disappeared from sight altogether.

When Gaucho pulls open the sliding doors to the van, Lovey trumpets as loud as she can, the only thing keeping her in the van is the shackles on her ankles. Gaucho has the bullock in his hand and shows it to Lovey. Usually, this is enough to calm her down. She knows from many years of experience that if it slaps against her sensitive skin, it will sting for a very long time and might well cut her. If the cut becomes infected, the circus doesn’t have a veterinarian on staff. And certainly, the little towns that they don’t have a wild animal vet. She would be a very sick elephant and might die from a simple injury. The circus often only had outdated medications and no money to spend on the care that these animals need. In the wild,  elephants often walk up to fifty miles a day across the savanna and live as long as fifty years.

Animals kept in circuses, even the famous, moneyed ones lived an average of twelve years. Gaucho steps back, he knows this animal has tremendous power and weight behind her, but he’s never seen her like this. He has been her trainer for five years. He knows from talking to the other carnies that Lovey and has been with the circus for a long time. And that at one time, she had a mate, named Ganesha a massive elephant from India. He had sickened and died before a large animal vet could be found. Lovey had been very attached to him and mourned his death for many years. He was told that she was never the same after his death. She had refused to perform and sometimes refused to eat or drink.

She has a big heart, and the loss had broken it. Elephants are herd animals, and she was here alone with no other elephants. She was near animals that would have been a threat to her if she were still living in the wild. Her life with the circus was unnatural and very stressful for her and all the other wild creatures that are captive here.

Gaucho walks over to the supply truck and pulls out a wagon that contains water. Luckily, they had filled all the containers upon their last stop. He grabs a bucket and puts it in the wagon. He pulls down the ramp and hurriedly pulls the wagon down the ramp and over to the terrified and terrifying Lovey. He carefully slides the bucket next to her and fills it with water. Lovey’s about to kick the bucket away then, she realizes it’s water. She puts her trunk down into the bucket and sprays the water across her back and then again into the bucket and quenches her thirst. She feels momentarily relieved and quiets.

Gaucho slowly and carefully unchains her ankles. By this time, many of the circus performers and all of the grunts are standing behind Gaucho. “Stay back, fools, get away from here while I take care of Lovey. Unless you want to be pummeled into the earth.” Gaucho waits for a few moments then give Lovey the trunk-up signal. Lovey becomes enraged and begins trumpeting loudly and stamps her feet. There’s a look of fire in her eyes, and it’s at that moment that Gaucho knows to get the hell out of the way and shouts.” Run, run.” He follows his own good advice just in time,

Lovey charges out of the van and begins running, running for her life. In her mind, she sees before her the golden savanna grasses being blown by the soft breeze and the cool water of the elephant water hole of her youth in the distance. She’s determined to reach it at any cost. She will run down anything that tries to prevent her from arriving there. She’s saving her life. Her instinct for self-preservation kicks in, and she runs full tilt, there’s no stopping her.

Everyone who has been watching her now disappears into the wind, not wanting to be trampled by this behemoth that has lost her mind. Someone has called the coffer, and he arrives just in time to see the elephant charging his jeep. He quickly reaches behind him to get his rifle and aims it at her head and pulls the trigger, and then again for good measure. Lovey keeps moving momentarily before the message gets to her brain that she’s dead. And then she drops to the ground, finally free, free to travel the land of her birth, among her tribe. She sees her beloved Ganesha, she feels love fill her huge heart and then peace. __________________________________

AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT

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“Tomorrow is Christina’s eighteenth birthday. Are you aware of that Ms. Cummings? Have you found a half-way house or a group home for her yet? You’ve run out of time, and so has Christina. As you know, the state doesn’t support kids in the foster system after the age of eighteen.”

Toot and Tell Restaurant- Garner, NC Google Image

“I’m well aware of that, Miss Bartram. And I have spent the last four months looking for placement for Christina with no luck. You know her history of non-compliance. She’s missed half of her classes this year. She may not graduate. She had a pregnancy scare, and she was out after curfew twice in the last month. No one is exactly knocking down the door, begging to take Christina.”

A cell phone starts ringing, just before the phone takes the message Miss Bartram says, “Answer it, answer it. I have spoken to the supervisors in every group home in this county.”

“Hello, yes this is Emily Cummings. Can I help you? Excuse me, whose mother did you say you are? What that isn’t possible, her mother passed away years ago. And she doesn’t have any other family. You can prove it. How? Do you have her birth certificate? Will you take a maternity test? Alright, can I call you back at this number, I’m in my boss’ office right now. And I’ll have to inform her about this turn of events. Yes, I will call you back within the hour. You have my number. My name is Emily Cummings I have handled Christina’s case for the past ten years. I assure you I ‘ll call back within the hour. Goodbye.”

“You will not believe who I just spoke to just now.”

“Ok, I give. who called you?”

“Get this, Christina’s mother called.”

“Christina Mc Gregor’s mother called? How is that possible? Our records indicate that her mother died of a drug overdose. Christina has been in the state foster care system for ten years, no family. Nothing. Where has her so-called mother been all these years? While this poor girl has been bounced around from one foster care home to another like a tennis ball?”

“She didn’t want to say on the phone. She asks to meet in person. And she says she’ll explain everything then. She wants to see Christina. I think we have to interview this woman first without Christina present, check out her story. I’m sure she’s some kind of con artist or freak. Maybe, I’m just jaded.  I don’t know. But, after twenty-five years of working in social services, it has been my experience that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is too good to be true. And then there’s the freak or predator angle. Sometimes I can’t help but think not if they’re a freak, but what kind of freak they are?

“I don’t want to give Christina false hope. She’s been hurt, rejected, and neglected too many times. If this is some kind of scam, I can’t even imagine the long-lasting harm this would do to Christina.”

“You’re right, Ms. Cummings. We will have to take baby steps here. Check out this “mother” to see if she is legit. And even if it turns out, she is Christina’s mother, that doesn’t mean she isn’t up to no good. Give her a call back tell her we want to meet her tomorrow morning at County General at 8 am for a blood test, she needs to bring any ID plus birth certificate for Christina and any other proof she may have.

And then after we take a look at the blood test results and paperwork, we’ll have a sit down just the three of us and see if we can sus out any funny business she may be up to. After that, we’ll have our shrink have a go at her to see if he can detect if she is copesetic or so kind of nut job. And even if she can prove she is Christina is her biological child, that doesn’t mean she isn’t up to no good. We will have to wait and see. And then and only then will we consider letting Christina meet up with this late in the day, mother.”

Early the next morning, Sarah calls her boss to update her. “Hello, Ms. Bartram, Sarah Cummings here. I just wanted to update you with the latest news on Christina Billings’s case after calling her “mother’s” cell phone number four times and I finally got a return call from the “mother.” She wouldn’t give me any specifics about her current location. Nor, would she tell me where she has been for the past ten years. And why she hasn’t contacted Christina. However, she did agree to meet me but not here at my office. She wants to meet me at the Toot and Tell Restaurant in Gardner for lunch tomorrow at 11:00 am. She said she will have the blood test today. “

“She didn’t give you any information at all? This whole situation is really hard to swallow. Where could she have been that she couldn’t have kept contact with Christina in some way? Did you ask her to bring ID and the birth certificate? Did she mention any other relatives? Did she ask about Christina at all?”

“She did ask about Christina, she asked how she was and where she is living. She wants to see her as soon as we can arrange it. She told me that she would explain the situation to me, when we meet. She said she has proof that she is Christina’s mother.”

At ll:00 am on the dot, a tall, red-headed woman wearing tight blue jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt walks through the doors of the Toot and Tell Restaurant. She walks up to the blond , middle-aged woman at the cash register and asked, “did anyone ask you to let them know when a woman came asking for her?”

“Yes, she’s sitting in the second booth on the left as you go through that door right there straight down through this dining area in front of you. She’s wearing a blue suit and has short, brown hair.”

“Thanks.”

“Hello, are you Ms. Bartram?”
“Yes, sit down, here I ordered you some coffee. Can you tell me your name now before we proceed any further? What’s with all the secrecy? Did you bring the proof I asked you to bring? Otherwise, this meeting is over before it begins.”

“Yes, I brought the proof. I’m sorry for all the secrecy, I guess its habit since I have been in hiding for the last ten years. It’s a hard habit to break. My name is Melissa Hartman. That is my real name, But I have been using a fake name for the past ten years. I called myself  Jean Hall.

“I think you’ll have to tell me more about the reason you were in hiding. But first, can you give me Christina’s birth certificate?”

“Here it is. However, you’ll see it’s in a different name. I changed her name to protect her. But I have her finger prints and her baby footprints. I don’t know if the foot prints will, help but I thought I should bring them all the same. Here’s the papers from the hospital, where I gave birth to Christina. Well,l actually at birth, I named her Shannon after my mother, who passed away two years before she was born.”

“Alright, can you please explain why you dumped Christina. I mean Shannon when she was not quite ten years old? And where have you been for the past ten years? Why didn’t you keep in touch with her? Do you know how devastating it is for a child to grow up thinking their own parents didn’t want them and dumped them like garbage on the side of the road?”

“Well, I’ll give you the short version, and then you can ask me any questions you want to after that. I got pregnant in my junior year of highschool. My mother and father were devout Baptists. They went ballistic when they found out I was pregnant. My parents wanted me to have the baby and give it up for adoption. They hated my boyfriend, Joey. They said he was a bad seed and would come to a bad end. They really despised him. And that just made me want him more. My parents were extremely strict. I wanted to have an abortion. But they would not allow that since they’re Baptist like I said before.”

“I ran away with my boyfriend. He was a senior in highschool. We drove to Mississippi and got married. You can get married at sixteen without parental consent there. Joey got a job at a gas station. We rented a room in an old house that someone he knew owned. I still wanted to get an abortion, but Joey said, no way I was going to kill his baby. He hit me and kept hitting me until I agree not to get an abortion. Joey was a big guy. He was a lineman in our highschool football team. He was big, really big. And when he hit me that time, he blackened both my eyes and knocked out my front tooth. I didn’t argue with him after that.”
But after that first time, he didn’t seem to need an excuse to hit me. If he came home in a bad mood, he hit me. If he didn’t like what I cooked for dinner, he hit me. Of course, that was practically every night since I had no clue how to cook. If I didn’t want him to touch me because he hurt me all the time, he really went nuts on me, and one night he broke my arm. And I had to go to the hospital to have it set. They ask me what happened. But I was afraid to tell them because I’m sure he would kill me if I did. They must have known he hit me since I was black and blue all over, and my front tooth was knocked out. They ask me if I felt safe. Joey warned me not to tell anyone, or he would make me sorry. And I believed him.
I told the nurse I was ok. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “squeeze my hand back, and I promised you I will keep you safe.”

I said, “no, I’m alright, thank you. She looked at me again and shook her head. She tucked a card in my shirt pocket. And she said, “if you change your mind, you can call the number on there. And they’ll find a safe house for you to stay. How far along are you in your pregnancy? I looked at her, and a tear ran down my face. “Four months, I didn’t think it showed yet?”

“I have been working in the ER for twenty-five years. I can tell if someone is getting beat up. I recognize pregnant when I see it, please call that number, you don’t have to live like this.”

“Thank you for your concern, I’m alright.”

“Ok, you can go now, but I hope you will call that number. I hope I don’t see you again in here. Can’t you go home to your family?”

“No, my family doesn’t want me, because I got married. ”

“All the more reason to call them now. Do you have any money?”

“Yeah, I have some money, maybe I’ll call them. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Don’t wait too long miss, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your baby.”

“So, what happened did you call your parents?”

“Yeah, I called my parents the next day, after Joey went to work.” “What happened was my father told me it was my choice and he didn’t want any more to do with me. I asked if I could speak to my mother. And then she got on, and she said,” I’m sorry but your dad made up his mind. You know how he is once he’s made up his mind. Try calling back in a couple of weeks. Take care.”

“I called them back every couple of months, but no one ever answered the phone. I left a message and my phone number. But they never called me back. Joey promised me he wouldn’t hit me anymore. But he did, but he never hit me in the stomach. And then I had the baby. And between the baby crying and not enough money, Joey was always in a bad mood.
He didn’t hit the baby, but when she made too much noise, he hit me plenty. But he never let me go to the ER again. Since he didn’t want to get arrested. About the time that Shannon started first grade, Joey started losing his temper around her more. She was always afraid, and she would hide in her room. Joey started drinking. I was afraid all the time then.

I decided to take Shannon and run away. Joey always found us. The last time I packed up all of our stuff and took off. Joey found us in a hotel in Tucson. He beat both of us up at that time. And that’s when I decided to put Shannon to foster care. Not because I didn’t love her. But because I wanted her to be safe and have some chance of a normal life. So, I got a fake birth certificate for her with a different name on it. I never looked back. I didn’t want Joey to find Shannon. I’ve been running ever since then.

I changed my name every time I moved. I worked at any job I could find. About two months ago, I tried calling my parents. My mother answered the phone. She told me that my father had a heart attack and passed away two years before.  And that two months ago the police came knocking at her door looking for me. She told them she hadn’t heard from me in years since I was sixteen. They were looking for me because Joey got himself murdered in a bar fight, and they wanted to inform the next of kin.

“So here I am. I want to see my daughter again. I got a job, and an apartment not too far from here. I love her and I want her. Can I see her now?”

“First, we’re going to the hospital to get blood test, and I want to see any proof you have regarding the name change of both you and Christina, I mean Shannon. I need to see the birth certificate.”

“Here it all is in this manilla envelope. I had the blood test done already. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Let me take a look at the documents. It will take two or three days to get the blood tests results.”

Two days later Ms. Cummings calls Shannon’s mother with the results. “hello Melissa, I have good news. Your blood tested positive in the maternity test. I had to explain to Shannon why we were taking the blood tests. She didn’t believe me at first. But then she started talking about the physical abuse at the hands of her father. And all the spousal abuse she witnessed in her early years. She still feels like you abandoned her, so that is going to take some time for you two to work out.”

The next day Ms. Cummings arrives in front of the Toot and Tell Restaurant with Shannon in tow. As they walk through the front door and then the inner door, Shannon stares at the woman sitting in the first booth on the left. “Is that my mother right there?”

“Yes, that’s her. So, you do recognize her?”

Shannon swallows hard as tears stream down her face; Then she stares at the teenager who stands in front of her. “Shannon, I can’t believe you are standing here in front of me. Can I get a hug?”
“Mom, Mom. they told me you were dead.” Shannon runs up to her mother and throws her arms around her. “oh Mommy, I missed you so much. I didn’t think I would ever see you again. Can I come live with you? Please?”
“Oh, that has been my dream for the past ten years. Sit down and tell me everything.”

__________________________________

CORONA VIRUS- APRIL 25, 2020

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Another week has passed. Each day seems to be moving at a snail’s pace at the same time it feels like the weeks are flying by in the blink of an eye. I’m a person that enjoys living a productive life. I set daily goals for myself. I’m my own taskmaster. If I’m tired, I push myself to accomplish my goals anyway.

Jalapeno, Eclectus Parrot- Photo by Bob Culver

Unfortunately, I have a tendency to hold my family to the same standards. “What did you do today? What else? You mean you just looked at the internet all morning? I guess you could say I’m a bit of a nag.

I have a high energy level; sometimes I forget everyone isn’t like me. They don’t necessarily feel an internal pressure to be busy every moment of the day. Even before I retired and I was working full-time, I did volunteer work on my days off. I taught English As A Second Language, and Basic Skills Classes and helped people get their GED. I was a mentor for Big Brother/Big Sister. I have always wanted my life to have value and make a contribution to our society and help other people do the same.

For the past three and a half years, I have been volunteering three mornings a week at an Animal Sanctuary in Coats, NC. I take care of parrots, Macaws, and Cockatoos. I love animals. And I loved these birds. But I have to admit it is exhausting work, especially for someone my age.

Sparky- Photo by Bob Culver

As I was driving home yesterday from Animal Edventure, I realized that one of the things that I enjoyed the most now is the drive back and forth from my house to Animal Edventure. It is only a fifteen- or twenty-minute ride. But it allows me to be alone with my thoughts and reflect on what has been happening in my home. And what has or may occur while I’m at Animal Edventure.

I live in a small development, and I drive through farmlands to the Animal Sanctuary. I had the opportunity to observe the long winter pass and Spring arrive one day at a time. The crops are beginning to grow, wildflowers are springing up, giving me hope.

There are fewer cars on the road. It’s a quiet ride that offers me the opportunity to see the cows and chickens and the horses and beautiful steer with their magnificent horns.  And I see the crops growing a bit taller every day. It lifts my spirit. That somehow, our life will move forward to better days. It fills me with gratitude for all our planet has to offer.

I arrive at  7:15 at the Animal Sanctuary, and I’m usually the first one up and about. The eight dogs that live there greet me with their doggy smiles as I walk down the path from the front gate, and I hug and pet each one. Sometimes I offer them each a dog biscuit too. Dogs are such wonderful creatures we are lucky to have them in our lives.

I get ready to head out to the bird building by filling the water jugs and getting any supplies I may need for them and put it all in a little wagon to bring out to their building. Before I go there, I give each of the Foxes a treat. I can see they are eagerly awaiting it. They show their excitement with a high-pitched whining and wide, toothy grins.

As I’m about to go into the bird building, Tuni, the blind pig greets me, and I pet her from her bristly head to her little tail. She grunts at me and waits patiently for her small snack. She is such a sweet soul.
I look forward to seeing her.

Sometimes, Matilda, the Emu is waiting for me, she isn’t                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        patient and always seems to think I’m late. If she is in a particularly bad mood, I have to step aside quickly, or she will peck me with her sharp beak. She has quick reflexes and keeps me on my toes.

As I enter the building with two of the outside cats, Camo and Orange Julius Paco scream out, “helloooo.” I call out, “Hello, birds, how are you all doing today?”

I take out the cat food and put it on the floor for my little cat friends. And as they start eating, I pet Camo but not Orange Julius she doesn’t like more than a pat on the head. I go over to each of the birds and ask them how they are? They each answer in their fashion. Sometimes they say hello, sometimes they scream. It’s noisy in the bird building; it takes getting used to. I have been working there for three and a half years. And I have learned to block out most of the noise. Jalapeno is a bright green Electus. He jumps on my shoulder. Sometimes he likes to ride in the hood of my jacket. He always wants to be fed first before all the other birds. If I don’t feed him first, he will go over and start eating the cat food. He isn’t one bit afraid of the cats. And the cats run out of the building when they see Jalapeno coming towards them.

I spend about three and a half hours in the bird building. I feed all the birds and clean their water and food dishes. I clean their cages inside and out and rake the floor. I have come to love these beautiful creatures—each different from the next in their personality and their moods. I talk to each one and ask them how they’re doing. I feel lucky to have the opportunity to know them.

Sometimes the kangaroos come by and try to break in, but I shoosh them away. And occasionally Jack the Blood Hound stops by, and bangs on the door, and I hand him a dog biscuit. He often lies down outside the door in the morning sun and takes a nap.

It’s a busy morning in the bird building but the time goes by quickly. Before I leave, I say good-bye to my feathered friends. And tell them I’ll see them in a couple of days.

I return the wagon to its parking place and head toward the exit. I say good-bye to all the animals, as I pass them. Adelaide the Kookaburra is one of my favorites; she always sings out for me as I pass her by and, I say, “hello, Adelaide, I see you’ve woke up.”

When I arrive home my husband and daughter ask me,” Ok, what happened today? And I relate stories about each one of my animal friends and what they were up to.

Then I go outside and eat lunch on our screened-in porch and look at our garden and the little pond that we put in the first year we moved to North Carolina from New Jersey. That was almost four years ago.                                      The irises and peonies that I brought with me from NJ look so beautiful this year. And our little Koi fish are getting so big. My dog, Douglas, greets me as if I’ve been away for ten years instead of four hours. I love that little dog so much.

So yes, this is a tough time, a sad time in so many ways. But mother nature has done such wonders this Spring and it gives me hope that someday life will return to a version of what it used to be. I hope we learn whatever lesson we are supposed to learn from this experience. I know one thing is to appreciate your life and the lives of your loved ones. It is precious and fragile and can be lost so easily. I try not to take it for granted. And that our planet is irreplaceable as well we must protect it as if our life depends on it. Because it does.

__________________________________

Tea Break

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The bed creaks as Sarah wrestles with her sweaty sheets. She closes her eyes tightly against the early morning light. She knows what time it is because she wakes up at seven-thirty every single day. Even the sleeping pills on her bedside table don’t allow her one more moment of rest.

Strottles the cat Photo by Bob Culver

She gives in, opening one eye at a time, and looks out her bedroom window. It’s a sunny, unbearably bright day. Sarah slides her bony feet into her worn purple slippers. Slowly, reluctantly she makes her way into the blue-tiled bathroom with the matching blue toilet and sink. Turns on the hot water and lets it run into the sink until steam rises to the mirror and obscures her face. She plunges her hands into the fray of water and splashes it on her face. Grabs a towel and roughly dries her face.

Sarah returns to her bedroom and pulls on a pair of elasticized pants, shrugs on an old white tea shirt with a faded American flag on the front, and pushes her feet into her ancient yellow leather Keds.

Holding tightly to the railing as she descends the staircase. Sarah fears falling more than anything. She lives alone, save for her cat, that occasionally shares her bed. Strottles went out several nights ago and hasn’t returned yet. He has an active love life, a happy bachelor.

Sarah wouldn’t admit to anyone how jealous she was of her cat.  That is, if she had anyone, she felt she could confide her deepest feelings. Although she often whispers them into her feline Lothario’s velvety ear. He at least has never betrayed her lonesome soul.

A week ago, Sarah ate a breakfast of burnt toast and Earl Grey tea. She heard Strottles meowing outside the kitchen door. Strottles stood at the bottom of the steps with five multi-colored kittens. Sarah blinked several times, stepped back into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her.  She sits down, and a tear runs down her face into her teacup, adding a salty taste to her morning repast.

This morning Sarah once again hears meowing at the back door. She looks out the window on the door and sees a black and white kitten staring back at her. At that moment, Sarah realizes that although humans had often failed to be faithful friends and left her behind when she needed them the most, cats had not.

Sarah opens the door. She sees not one cat but five, and behind them, Strottles. “Well, come in, come in. The heat is going out the door.”

“Well, Strottles, you have been a busy boy. Now here you are with a family. Where’s the Mama?”

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Oh, can’t take a joke? Well, it doesn’t matter. Let me get you and your feline family something to eat. I think I have some canned food for the babies. And some dry food for you. And perhaps some milk as well.”

Sarah opens the pantry door and gazes inside its dark interior. And she pulls the string that turns on the light. It reveals a pantry that needs restocking. Luckily, she always has cat food since Strottles has a healthy appetite. She takes down two cans, Chicken Delight and Pate’ Turkey and Giblets. One of Strottle’s favorites.

She sets out five saucers and Strottles bowl and places a little wet food, and mixes the dry food in it. Strottles is an old cat, almost twelve, and is missing most of his teeth. But he still manages to devour both the wet and the dry food. He mustn’t have had much to eat since he left save for the occasional mouse.

“Here you go, lad and lassies, breakfast. And here is your bowl, Strottles, the proud papa. You’ve done yourself proud with this little family.”

“You know, Strottles, I should’ve gotten you fixed years ago, and I think I will do that now. But I will take care of your babies until I can find some families to adopt them. Eat up now. And I’m going to give each of these little kitties a bath with Dawn just in case they have any fleas and you too, Strottles. I know you hate baths, but you play. You pay as my dad used to say.”

After the kittens have eaten their fill, Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father, An orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah can see he is going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he has the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little.  He keeps rubbing up against her legs.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Alright, Strottles, let me get the sink ready for your bath and clean you up. You look like you were sleeping rough. From now on, you will be staying in the house with your little family.”

As the sink fills with warm, soapy water, Sarah considers names for her new charges. She considers naming them after the Virtues of Prudence, Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, and Hope after she gets to know their personalities better.

She walks over to Strottles and picks him up. He protests by meowing as loudly as he can. Sarah ignores his crying and puts him gently in the sink. His meowing begins anew, but somehow, he is even louder.

Sarah says,” Settle down, it will be over before you know it, and then you can take a good long nap after your bath and toweling off. Sarah sprays Strottles and rubs Dawn over his body from his head to the tip of his striped tail. And then she rinses him off with warm water. Sarah rigorously towels Strottles off. As soon as she puts him down, he heads over to his cat bed in the living room and promptly falls asleep.

Sarah rinses off the sink and goes to the linen closet for some more towels for the kittens. Momentarily, she stops and thinks, what in the world am I going to do with six cats. She vows to herself not to get attached to the kittens.

It isn’t as easy bathing the kittens. Even though they are smaller, they’re so tiny they’re able to squirm and escape leaving trails of soapy water all along their escape path.

Sarah grabs the last kitten, who she decides to call Hope. She feels exhausted, and she’s dripping wet from head to toe. However, she can’t recall any time recently when she felt this happy and invigorated by anything she has undertaken.

Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father. He is an orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah sees he’s going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he had the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little.  He keeps rubbing up against her legs, and he has the loudest purring she had ever heard come out of such a small cat.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment.

Sarah decides she better makes a trip to the grocery store to do a little food shopping. She changes her clothes and puts on her good shoes and coat with her purse grasped tightly in her hand. She has a nagging fear that someone will steal her purse, and then where would she be?

It isn’t easy getting old. Sarah often feels as if she’s alone and out to sea in a boat. She suddenly realizes that now she’s smiling and feels her spirit-lifting because she has a purpose now and isn’t alone anymore. She feels better than she has in weeks.

Sarah steps out her front door and closes it with a bang, and locks the top and the bottom lock. You can never be too careful. The Mom and Pop grocery store is only a ten-minute walk, and Sarah quick steps it to the corner where she runs into Gloria. An old friend she hasn’t seen in months.

“Gloria, what a surprise to see you. I heard you moved in with your son after you had that heart attack scare. How are you? I’ve missed you so much. I don’t have your son’s address, so I couldn’t even send you a Get Well card.”

“I’m much better. I just came home two days ago. I was on my way to your house to see you. I should have written or called you. But for the first couple of months, I was in a nursing facility, and I was depressed. Then once I moved in with my son, they kept me busy every minute of the day. Where are you going? I’ll go with you. Maybe we could stop and have some tea at Tea Break. I have so missed their Ginseng Tea.”

“Why, that sounds like an excellent idea. I would love nothing better. I have some great news to tell you. You know, Strottles, my cat. He showed up this morning after being missing for quite a while, and he returned with a litter of kittens. And one is his spitting image. Anyway, this morning I bathed them all, and now I’m on the way to buy some supplies.”

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order. What are you going to do with a litter of kittens? I would love to have one. It gets lonely living alone. On the other hand, living with my son and daughter-in-law and my four grandchildren was wonderful but exhausting.”

“Really, well, after lunch, you can come over and meet the kitties. And spend time with them until you decide which will be best for you.”

As Sarah and Gloria continue on their way to Tea Break, they see their mutual friend Connie waving at them from across the street. They wave back and cross the street. Simultaneously, they say, “Hi, Connie. How are you?”

“Well, I’m better now that I see you two. Gloria, I heard you were back. I’m so happy to see you looking so well. Where are you two off to?”

“Connie, we ran into each other as I was walking downtown to get some supplies for Strottles’ kitties. And then, we decided to go to Tea Break and tell each other what we have been up to.”

“Well, that sounds like fun. Would three be a crowd? I would love to join you. I haven’t been out of my house in a month of Sundays.”

“Well, that would be great. ”

“Can you two give me a few minutes to run a comb through my hair and put a jacket on? I would love to catch up. I missed seeing you, Gloria. I heard you were staying with your son while you recovered.”

“Yes, but I’m much better now that I’m back home. I loved spending time with my grandchildren.  I’ll tell you all about it at Tea Break. We’ll wait out here while you grab a jacket.”

“Gloria, this is turning out to be a wonderful morning. First, Strottles shows up with his beautiful kittens. And now you’re home, and we meet up with Connie. And we’re all going out for a get-together. ”

“You’re right. I feel like a weight is off my chest. It will be such fun. I think we need to make this a regular thing for us to do together. ”

“You’re right. Sometimes there are days when I don’t see or speak to another soul.”

“I hate to admit it, but that’s true for me too.  And there is no reason on god’s earth for that to happen when we all live right down the street from one another, a short walk or phone call away.’

“And we can all thank Strottles for getting together because of his wanton ways. He is an old scoundrel, but I love him.  Oh, here comes Connie. Let’s go.”

“Look out, world, here we come. Hey, while we’re at it, why don’t we stop and see the matinee at the Roxy Theater and then have some dinner on me.”

“Sound like a plan. So Sarah, what have you been up to? Anything new?”

“I’ll say, but let’s walk up to Tea Break, and then I’ll tell you the whole story.”

Corona Virus April 18th, 2020

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Last night was the first night that I fell asleep and slept for five hours in over a month. I’m feeling better, less irritable. I have always had trouble sleeping since I was a child. I would fall asleep and then wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep or wake up multiple times. It is not a new problem. What’s new now is that when I wake up the thoughts, I have been having are disturbing. I obsess about the suffering of people here and in the rest of the world. I feel such a sense of loss and helpless to make things better. I have always been a proactive person. If I see a problem, I try to find a way to mitigate it in some way.

Kite photo by Bob Culver

These last several weeks, I have donated small amounts of money to Food pantries, animal shelters in NC, and the poorest parts of the country. I don’t know if this will make any difference, but somehow, I can’t sit by and do nothing. I would find it difficult to live with my future self if I just here and felt sorry for people and didn’t do anything. We live on Social Security, but our house is paid off. So, I’m able to do that small thing.

This week the weather here in the area of NC was schizophrenic one day 87 degrees the next morning 36 degrees, one day heavy rains and high winds, the next day sunny and pleasant. The unpredictability for me adds to my sense that the weather now is abnormal as the Corona Virus. You just never know what is going to happen next.

We retired to NC three and a half years ago. It is a small development with twenty-one homes. The people that live here keep to themselves. One or two of our neighbors will wave and say “hello,” but it’s nothing like the neighborhoods we lived in the past where you knew your neighbor’s name and talked to them or even became friends with them over time. People here don’t spend a lot of time out in their yards, although their plots are about an acre. You see them cutting their grass on their riding mowers, but they don’t sit outside on their porches and talk to neighbors as you pass by. I still wave at them when I see them and call out,” Hello, how are you.” Occasionally, someone will wave back. There are probably about eight or cute little kids under ten years of age that will say. “hello” but won’t engage in any conversation. I have always loved kids, so I miss that.

Tiny blue shoes- photo by Bob Culver

Tiny Blue Shoes by Bob Culver

We have a neighbor at the end of the street right next to Route 50. Her twins, a boy, and a girl were about six months old when we moved here. They are beautiful little kids. Now, they are about four. In the summer, the parents allow their kids to ride their bikes, take walks, and play out front with no clothes on during the summer.  This isn’t something I ever saw in NJ so, I have asked quite a few people here in NC if this was just a Southern thing, and they all said no. I know it isn’t my business, but one evening I was sitting on my back porch, and I saw the father of the twins taking a walk with his two naked than three-year-old children. And before I knew it, I yelled, “Put clothes on those kids.” The father shouted back; they just won’t keep their clothes on and kept walking. When did children become the bosses?

Anyway, since this virus started, our neighbors began emerging from their development cocoons. Not every day and not all at once. But, every couple of days, I see someone running, or riding a bike, or jogging up and down our small development. I sit on the front porch and yell out,” Hello, how are you all doing?” And sometimes they wave or yell back. “We are fine, thanks.” Last Sunday, my husband and I were taking our first walk of the day up and down our street, and we saw a kite flying high above the tree line. It like it originated from the farm on the other side of our development. Somehow the sight of that beautiful kite lifted my spirits. It remained up there for over two hours. It brought back memories of my own children’s childhoods when we would take them to Cooper River Park in NJ and let them fly their small kites. And it reminded me of my childhood when I would fly my Dime store kite in the park behind the public school in Maple Shade, where I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s. Such happy memories. The site of that kite lifted my spirits and gave me hope that perhaps somehow, someday our lives would return to normal and life would go on.

Then three days ago, my husband Bob and I were taking our dog, Douglas, for a walk, and I noticed something blue on the ground on the corner of our front yard. I kneeled to take a closer look, and there before me was a tiny pair of blue shoes. Sitting one next to the other one upside down. It was such a whimsical thing to find, weird. So, I started imaging how they came to be there. “Oh, no,” I said some tiny little person; perhaps a well-dressed little alien has lost her shoes. I’m always thinking of stories I can write or paintings I can paint. It keeps me sane.

I look forward to the day when we get take a walk, go to a store, eat at our favorite restaurant once again without fear that we will touch something or someone, and it will be the end of us. However, I hope that my neighbors will remember that they came outside rode their bikes and took walks, and said,” Hey, how are you doing to their neighbors and didn’t turn to stone. I hope this small beginning will grow into a sense that we are a community, not just a place where we live. I will do my part and say. “hello, to everyone I see and ask them how they are doing. And perhaps someday in the not too distant future, I will invite all my neighbors over for a barbeque on a warm summer day, and we can’t get to know each other better and maybe, just maybe make some new friends.

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ONCE UPON A TIME

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Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lives an old man who seems strange, even weird, in many ways. His neighbors avoid him, and if they happen to pass him on the street, they glance the other way.

There’s something about him that doesn’t seem quite right. His eyes are violet, but the whites of his eyes are yellow. His skin is tinted ever so slightly green, not unlike pea soup. What is left of his hair is stringy and hangs down to the middle of his scrawny back. He smells and looks as if it hasn’t washed in a decade or more.

Photo 99 mimimi-Pixabay

Car hits man in the street.

He’s bent over at his waist and has to turn his head from side to side to cross the street. His pants are big and baggy. He wears suspenders and a belt. The waist of his pants is hiked up under his armpits. His ankles are exposed, and you can see he is covered in a fine black, curly down. He wears sandals all year round, and his toenails are long and curl under his toes. They make a clicking sound as he shuffles down the street.

Traffic seems to slow down as passengers in their cars stare out their car windows at him. A driver in a convertible is so distracted that he nearly crashes into the Chevy truck ahead of him. When he doesn’t notice the traffic light turning red. The old man slowly turns his head in the direction of the screeching car and shakes his finger at the driver.

He continues to walk slowly forward. Ignoring the stares and the ugly names that are shouted at him. Life hasn’t given him an easy road to travel. But he perseveres.

He’s midway between the street and the sidewalk when he hears a car screeching and tires squealing. He tries to look up, but he reacts. He’s too slowly. And then he feels an enormous weight hit him and propels him into the air, and then nothing.

He feels as if he is floating. Someone is whispering to him. It seems as if it’s from a tremendous distance. He can’t quite make it out. He feels so weary. He thinks one last thought. Perhaps he’ll finally be able to lay down this burden that life has given him. He closes his eyes. And darkness, then silence follows.

From out of nowhere, he hears a voice, “Gerard Tippin, can you hear me? If you can hear me, nod your head or blink your eyes.”

Gerard slowly opens up his eyes and blinks. “Gerard, I’m going to shine a light in your eyes. It will be quite bright. Try to hold still.”

Gerard holds his head as steady as he’s able. A bright light shines in one eye and then the other.

“Can you see that, Gerard?”

Gerard tries to answer, but his throat feels dry and scratchy. He clears his throat.

“Gerard, you had a tube down your throat, and that’s why it hurts. I’m going to hand you a glass of water with a straw. Try to drink a little, and it will help.”

“Gerard, I’m Dr. Drachman. I’ve been taking care of you since you were admitted. You were hit by a car when you were trying to cross the street. We would like to keep you here for a couple of days. You have a mild concussion and some bumps and bruises. Overall, I think you were lucky you didn’t sustain any serious injuries.

However, in general, it appears as if you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself. Your skin tone is unusual, but we couldn’t find any obvious reason for it. The yellow in the whites of your eyes is concerning. We are running some tests on that. It looks like you have curvature of the spine or osteoporosis. We are going to get a physical therapist to assess you, which might help. Do you have any relatives or friends that we can contact? We feel your recovery will improve if you are able to stay with family or friends.”

Gerard clears his throat and states matter of factly, “family or friends, no. I don’t have nobody. I live alone in a room I rent in a boarding house. I get one meal a day there. I live on a small disability check. I’m not good at making friends.

“Well, I believe we can help you out. There are services that are available to people in need. Perhaps we can find better accommodations for you. Have you ever considered shared housing?”

“Shared housing? Well, like I said, I live in a boarding home. Of course, people don’t stay there too long. Some of the people that stay there just got out of jail. Some people are junkies. And then there are the down and outers like me. But most people think I‘m one of a kind. And keep a distance from me. I guess I’m kind of weird. At least that’s what I have been told most of my life. That I’m a weirdo.”

“Gerard, you are unique. That’s true. But we are all unique in one way or another. Let’s try to get you feeling better, eating better, and see about getting you in a better place. We’ll talk again soon. Some nice people are going to come and talk to you about helping you with your needs. This accident may turn out to be a happy accident, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what to say, doc. Thanks. Nobody ever tried to help me ever. I grew up in foster care. My parents didn’t want me. When I turned eighteen, I was on my own. I didn’t do too good in school. I took any job I could find most of my life. And here I am.”

“I’ll see you soon, Gerard. It has been quite an experience meeting you. I’ll check on you tomorrow. Take it easy.”

A few minutes later, an orderly came into Gerard’s room with a food tray. “Hello, Mr. Gerard. I’m Joseph, and I’ll be bringing you your meals while you’re here. Tonight, we are serving meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and string beans with rice pudding for dessert. Also, I have left a paper on the tray where you can write down a  request if you have any. And inform the kitchen staff if you have any food that you don’t want or are not supposed to eat. I’ll take that information to the kitchen staff if you leave it on your tray. Enjoy, Mr. Gerard. I’ll see you later.” The orderly walks silently out of  Gerard’s room.

Gerard looks at the tray and suddenly realizes that he’s starving. His stomach is growling. Long ago, he learned to ignore that feeling and the sound that comes with it. Since he rarely eats more than once a day. He reaches for the tray and touches it to make sure it’s real. He pulls the tray toward him and breathes deeply. And then picks up the fork and takes a bite of the meatloaf. The smell, the texture are overwhelming, and Gerard feels a tear roll down his cheek. He smiles and begins eating like there won’t be a tomorrow and this is his last meal. When he finishes, he sighs and pushes the tray back, and falls fast asleep.

When Gerard wakes up and looks around, he doesn’t immediately remember where he is and what’s happening. His head hurts, and he’s sore all over, and then it all comes back to him. Trying to cross the street and being hit by a car and then nothing.

“Maybe I’m in heaven?” And then he laughs to himself. He glances around the room he sees an empty bed. And beyond that, a window. He can’t see much more since he hasn’t been able to buy glasses in many years. His close-up vision isn’t much better.

Later that day, a young man comes into Gerard’s room and walks over to his bed. He takes the chart at the end of the bed and studies it. Then he clears his throat and says,” Mr. Tippin, Mr. Tippin, are you awake? I would like to talk to you for a few moments.” He clears his throat again.

Gerard slowly opens his eyes and sees a tall young man in scrubs standing next to his bed. He rubs his eyes. “Yes, I’m Gerard.”

I’m a physical therapist here at the hospital. My name is Donald Abraham. And I’m your doctor, and I have been discussing the type of physical therapy that would benefit you the most. We’ve decided that a combination of treatments would be the most beneficial. I’m talking about massage, hot tubs, muscle stimulation, and in the beginning low, impact exercise. I would like to start this afternoon. How do you feel about that?”

“Well, I have trouble walking because of my feet.”

“I think you will see that we have already addressed that issue, Gerard. Allow me to show you.”

The therapist lifts the sheet and blanket off of Gerard’s legs. Gerard looks down at his legs, then his feet, and is shocked. He hasn’t been able to cut his toenails for years because of his back and his vision. He looks closely at his feet and sees normal feet with normal toenails. Gerard looks at the therapist and says, “that’s amazing. I hardly recognize my own feet. I’ll be able to wear real shoes again, and my feet won’t be freezing all winter. Thank you so much. He smiles from ear to ear. Thank you.”

The next morning a woman is standing at Gerard’s bedside when he wakes up. “Good Morning Mr. Tippin. My name is Elaine Marshall. I’m a patient advocate at the hospital. I had a conversation with Dr. Drachman, and he related to me some of the challenges you are currently facing. I‘ve been talking to our local Social Service offices, and they are looking for some home-sharing possibilities for you. I understand you get Disability. Do you get any other assistance?”

“Assistance? Oh, you mean money?”

“Yes, financial assistance. For instance, have you ever served in the military?”

“Yes, but only for a few years. I was getting some money because I was injured in Viet Nam. But I had to move so many times over the years. And they lost track of where I was located, and then for a few years, I lived on the street.”

“I see. Well, I tell you what, I’m going to leave these papers with you to fill out. This will include your Social Security number. I’ll be better able to get help from the VA with that. Can you fill these papers for me?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t really read anymore since I lost my glasses long ago. I told the doctor about that. And I can’t really see far away either.”

“Well. That’s something I can help you with too Gerard. I’ll arrange for you to have your eyes tested and see if we can’t get you some new glasses before you’re discharged. In the meantime, I’ll read you the questions, and you can supply me with the information.”

“Really, I would love to be able to read again, and I used to read all the time. Thank you again.”

“Oh, Gerard, I also wanted to let you know that a physical therapy team is going to start working on your back issues this afternoon. Let’s get started with the paperwork. I’ll type it in on my laptop here and then print out copies for you and then forward the paperwork. Question one is do you have any living relatives that we can contact about your situation?”

“I don’t know. After I came back from Viet Nam, I was injured. And I was really messed up. I started drinking. For a long time, I was able to keep working, but later it got worse, and I got fired from one job after another. It was my fault. I guess, half the time, I didn’t show up, or I showed up hungover or still drunk. I kept getting fired. I moved from one place to another sometimes, I didn’t have any place to sleep. So, I slept outside. I lost touch with my family. I grew up in twenty different foster homes. My family might all be dead. I don’t know. They probably think I died a long time ago.”

“I remember the names and addresses from long ago. But that’s about it.”

“Alright, let’s get started.”

An hour later, she finishes up the paperwork and closes her laptop. She feels today is going to be a good day for her because she knows that she will be able to make a big difference in this particular man’s life. She smiles and pulls the sheet and blankets up to Mr. Tippin’s chin. And tip-toes out of the room.

Later that day, Gerard is once again sleeping and realizes someone else is speaking to him. Gerard hasn’t talked to so many people in one day in decades. He feels a little overwhelmed. “Hello Gerard, my name is Samantha Cummings. I’m one of the therapists that will be working with you. Do you think that you can get out of bed by yourself?

Gerard looks at her and feels immediately embarrassed. Standing before him was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had beautiful red hair with gold highlights. It’s pulled back in a ponytail that hangs down her slender back. Her eyes are green. Gerard always had a weakness for redheads. He stares at her and says, “I don’t know. I haven’t been out of bed since I woke up from the car accident.”

“In that case, allow me to help you to get out of bed and over to the wheelchair next to the bed. And then I’ll take you to your first therapy session. Ok, if you can try to sit up, I’ll assist you. That’s right, try to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Now, the hard part. I’m going to stand next to you and guide you to the wheelchair. Don’t worry, and the wheelchair won’t move. The brake is on. And then we’ll be on our way”.

“Excellent, Gerard, you did wonderfully. And now I’ll take you to the rehab. We’ll have to take the elevator to the second floor, and we will be just about there.”

As Gerard and the therapist get onto the elevator, four people come up to the elevator door, and the therapist holds back the elevator door for them. Gerard is so afraid that one of them or all of them will start laughing at him or calling him names. He hangs his head down low. Hoping that no one will notice him.

All the passengers get off at the next floor. Gerard breathes a sigh of relief. He never knows what kind of reaction people will have to his unusual appearance. This was the story of his life. Rejection because of the way he looks. He tries never to call attention to himself, if possible. Ordinarily, he only goes out after dark. And he frequents the same places all the time where people had seen him before. And they just ignored him. He tries to be invisible.

Since he was a small child, he has always been picked on and bullied. Especially since he grew up in foster care. The bigger kids always picked on him. Girls ran away from him, yelling,” freak” at him. He knew what he looked like. Although the older he grew, the less often he looked in the mirror. He knows he doesn’t take care of himself. That he should wash more often and cut his hair, but it all felt so pointless. He knows he looks weird, but what can he do about it? He often hates himself. And wishes he could go to sleep one night and not wake up. No one would miss him. No one cares about him.

As they arrive at the second floor, the therapist says, “here we are, Gerard, hold on tight.”

Gerard takes a quick look from left to right, and the coast is clear. No one is coming his way.  “Here we are. Shall we get started? First, you are going to soak in the whirlpool bath, and then one of the massage therapists will give you a massage. Then we’ll begin doing some exercise that, over time, will increase your mobility. What kind of exercise do you usually get, Gerard?”

“Exercise. I don’t have a car, so I usually walk. But the only place I go to is the Bodega at the end of the street for my groceries. I can’t carry that much because of my back. So, I go there several times a week.”

“Couldn’t you have your food delivered, Gerard?”

“Delivered? I can hardly afford to buy even the cheapest food. I buy Ramen Soup and hotdogs and white bread when it is on sale. That’s about it.”

“Gerard, did you ever apply for food stamps?”

“Yeah, a long time ago when I was living in the middle of the city. But now I have to take the bus anywhere far. And I don’t have the money to do that.”

“Perhaps, if you don’t mind, I can talk to the patient advocate and see if they can help you apply for food stamps?”

“Really, you would do that?”

“Of course, Gerard. Everyone here wants to help you recover and to get assistance to meet your basic needs. We care about you, Gerard.”

Gerard feels a lump in his throat and swallows hard. It’s hard to believe that all of these people who never met him before are going to help him. He has a hard time trusting people. He looks at the therapist and quietly says, “thank you.”

Later that day, after lunch, Elaine Marshall, the Patient Advocate, sits next to Gerard’s bedside, patiently waiting for him to wake up. She’s reading through his file. She is in an optimistic mood because she has actually made progress for this particular patient. She has spent her whole career trying to make a positive difference in people’s lives. And occasionally, she’s able to help them. Some in small ways, and once in a blue moon, she makes a positive outcome for some of the high-risk patients.

Gerard slowly begins to wake up and senses that someone is looking at him. He opens his eyes and is pleasantly surprised to find the beautiful redhead Elaine next to his bed. “Good afternoon, Gerard. How are you feeling? Any better?”

Gerard realizes that he does actually feel better. His head still hurts a little, and he is still sore all over. But his heart feels lighter. He feels there is a glimmer of hope that his life may improve. “Yes, I do feel better.” And he smiles at her.

“That’s wonderful, Gerard. I’m so relieved and happy to hear that. And I believe you will feel better after I tell you some good news. First, I believe I have found a place for you to live. It is a home-sharing situation for homeless Veterans. They have an opening, and I have sent them your information. They have tentatively approved your application. It is not far from downtown. So, it will be within walking distance of shops and stores. You’ll have your own bedroom. You will share a bathroom with one other person, and you will be able to access the common room where you can watch TV or listen to music, or play cards.

And in addition, everyone is allowed to use the kitchen where you can prepare your meals. Also, I have applied for the VA benefits that you used to get. I’ll have to make a copy of your Social Security Card and email it to them. I’ll keep in touch with them, and I’m fairly certain that you will soon begin getting some additional funds from the VA since you sustained injuries. And finally, tomorrow morning, you are going to be taken to have your vision checked and be able to get those glasses you need so badly.

Gerard stares at her, afraid to believe what she has told him. He had so many disappointments in his life. It’s difficult for him to trust anyone. Finally, she puts out her hand and extends it for Gerard. He looks down at her hand. He looks into her eyes. He sees kindness. He reaches for her hand and holds it briefly. She smiles at him.

“Gerard, you’re going to be discharged tomorrow, but you’ll be coming back to the hospital as an Out-Patient to the clinic to continue your physical therapy, for advice about nutrition, to pick up your new glasses, and to get updates on your VA Benefits. I want you to know that I’m continuing to try and contact any family members of yours that might still be living. I’ll keep you up to date on anything I find out. Tomorrow I’ll be taking you over to New Beginnings, the shared housing I spoke to you about. After you look it over, you can decide whether you would feel comfortable living there. If you do, we can go pick up your belongings and move you in. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I get to decide if I want to live there. Have they accepted me?”

“Why yes, of course, they have accepted you. Would you like to go there tomorrow and take a look?

“Yes, I have never wanted to do anything more. And I would truly love to do just that.”

“Alright, Gerard, I’ll stop by tomorrow morning and pick you up by 10 am. I’ll see you then.”

As she walks out the door, Gerard watches as she walks down the long hallway. He realizes he had just met an angel. One that came into his life unexpectantly and gave him a new lease on life, a new beginning.

Corona Virus- April 11th, 2020

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Corona Virus- April 11th, 2020

I sat for two days trying to decide what to say about my experiences during the past week and come up with nothing. Early this morning at 4 AM,  I realized so many, many things happened that I hadn’t even been able to take it all in at all.

It begins with the fact that although I have always struggled with insomnia. I now have difficulty sleeping at all. I fall asleep exhausted at about 10 PM. I sleep for about one and a half hours and then wake up. It may take me two hours to fall back to sleep. My mind keeps going over and over all the nightmarish events that have happened that day, this past week. Sometimes I silently cry. If I do fall asleep again, I wake up every two hours and toss and turn. I finally wake up at about 4:30 AM for the day.

On a personal level, I was contacted by a family member and told that my brother-in-law had passed away. He lived in NJ. I live in NC, where we retired to three and a half years ago. I have known and love my brother-in-law Pat since I was about ten or eleven years old. He was married to my sister Jeanie. She passed away from emphysema in 1979.  She was forty-two. Pat was always kind and caring towards me for the entirety of my life. And when I was told he passed away, I didn’t let this sad news touch me. I sent out condolence cards. And then I  blocked it from my mind. In the past three years, I have lost my oldest brother, his wife, and my brother- law Jake.

I was told that there was only going to be a small funereal with ten or fewer people because of the danger of Corona Virus. Ten people to mourn a man who was a husband, father, grandfather, brother and uncle, friend to many. I was told maybe they would be having an Irish wake for Pat in the Fall.  I responded, “Oh, right, of course, that makes sense.”

I filed this bad news away far back in my mind, in the vault where I am keeping all my feelings now. All the fear, all the loss,  that I have no clue how to deal with it at any level. I didn’t tell anyone about my brother-in-law passing. Why?Bbecause all I hear, all that we hear all day are the numbers, big incomprehensible numbers of people that are dying in our state, in our country, in the world. It is impossible to comprehend, to digest. It is incomprehensible, completely overwhelming, and heartbreaking.

So, I lock it away, because I know that if I even think about it for even a minute, I will not be able to take one more step forward. I will be stuck in that moment, overwhelmed with fear and grief and loss. Anger is what I’m feeling right now. It is eating away at me, making me feel helpless and alone.

I have always been a person that deals with difficulties by looking at the problem, finding solutions, and then solving that problem. And now, I have no solutions. The problem is too big for me. I’m scared. I’m afraid of what the final outcome will be not just for me but for my family, our country, and the world. The loss of life already is devastating and hard to take in.

I worry about all the people who have lost loved ones or who will ultimately lose many people or might die themselves. I worry about the people who lost their jobs and don’t know when or if they will have jobs to go back to. I worry about how they will take care of their families with no income.

I worry about a country with a leader that thinks a couple of thousand dollars will take care of American families for the duration of this virus while giving big corporations billions.

I’m a person that has always looked around at my fellow humans and did what I could to help them. I continue to try and do that, but this problem is too big for me. I think we have to do everything we can to survive this and help the people around us when we can.

How this will end, I can not say. It will evolve. But I do know that significant changes will have to take place or we can not go on as we have in the past. Everything we do, every choice we make has consequences. How we treat our fellow man, how we pollute our planet.

Right now, in this moment, in this day, I will do the best that I can. I can not do more than that.

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