Category Archives: Fiction

New Beginnings Are Often Disguised As Painful Endings.” — Lao Tzu

FAIRY TALES DO SOMETIMES COME TRUE

It was one of those beautiful early Spring days in North Carolina. My boss unexpectedly gave me a day off.

He said, “You’ve been working so hard for the past several weeks. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? You can sleep in, go out to lunch with some of your friends, and forget about work for a few hours.

I took one look at him, just to be sure he wasn’t pulling my leg. And sure enough, he was serious. “Really, I would love that. I haven’t had any time to myself in a long time, and I know exactly what I’d like to do.”

“Really, what’s that?” Oh, I know, go clothes shopping. I know how you ladies love to shop and buy clothes.”

“While that might be true for some women. It’s not true for me. I like to spend any “extra money” on my garden.”

“Well, whatever stokes your fire, I say. Have a ball and buy all the flowers you want. You only live once.”

“Thanks so much. I have about another hour to finish my report. I’ll email it to you when I’m finished, and I” ‘ll see you on Monday.”

That night, I must have checked the weather report ten times before I went to bed. We get a whole lot of rain in the early Spring here in North Carolina, so I kept my fingers crossed that tomorrow it wouldn’t rain. I also hoped it would rain the next day so that newly planted rose bushes and Day Lilies would get watered in.

I woke up at the crack of dawn the next morning, but to my surprise, it was still dark out. Then I remembered the clocks had been turned back recently. Honestly, I wish we could stop moving time forward and then back again. It takes me so long to adjust to it. Enough already, I say.

I rolled out of bed, gingerly put my legs over the edge of the bed, and headed toward my bathroom. I grabbed my sunblock and applied it liberally to every exposed part of my body. I am as pale as they come, and if I don’t douse myself with sunblock, I will be burnt to a crisp. I’m not exaggerating. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little.

And off I went to my backyard to get my gardening tools out of my little tool shed. As I opened the door, I saw something move rapidly across the front of the shed and out the back. I can’t be sure, but I think it might have been some rabbit. I sure as hell hope it isn’t a rat. I don’t mind squirrels, but rabbits love to eat all the vegetables I grow in my raised bed garden. And believe it or not, they are not averse to eating my flowers. The only thing they haven’t touched is my cactus and succulent garden.

I gathered my heeley hoe, my gardening gloves, and some containers to stash the grass and weeds I dug up. I was about ready to start when I heard one of my neighbors yell, “Good morning. I hope you have a great day. Good luck with your garden.”

It is my next-door neighbor, Piero; he is a nice man and always says hello, but beyond that, he minds his own business. Occasionally, he asks me gardening questions. And I’m more than willing to offer him advice or lend him a hand. He is an elderly man and not completely steady on his feet. Occasionally, he will ask me to come over and give him a hand with his grape vine that grows over his arbor. And I am more than happy to do that. Because eventually, he will turn those beautiful grapes into wine. And he always shares it with me.

I walk over to his fence and ask him, “How are you feeling? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Oh, good, good, the usual aches and pains, but nothing I can’t tolerate. I’ ’m looking forward to seeing your garden this year.”

“ And I’m looking forward to that wonderful wine you make.” Piero laughed and said, “That’s down the road a bit, but I won’t forget you. And if you have any free time, could you come over and help me get my ladder out of the garage and carry it back next to the trellis?”

“Yes, sure, but only if you let me hold the ladder until you’re done. I don’t want anything untoward to happen to you.”

“Yes, yes, you’re afraid I’ll fall and break my neck, but I’ll be fine. I need a steady hand to hold the ladder. It will only take a few minutes.”

“I’ll be right there. Meet me in front of your garage. And I’ll get the ladder out for you.”

I went to the side of my house, opened my gate, closed it behind me, and headed over to Piero’s front yard and garage. I could hear him rustling around inside the garage. The next moment, the garage door opened, and there was Piero—out of breath just from opening the door. I can’t tell you how worried I was about Pierro. He was such a kind and generous man that I couldn’t bear it if something unforeseen happened to him.

“Are you alright, Pierro?”

“Yes, yes, stop you’re worrying. You are like an old mother hen, guarding her eggs.’

“Old mother hen, HUH? Well, that’s a new one. And then we both started laughing. Pierro laughed so hard that he started coughing. I patted him on the back until he caught his breath again. “Ok, let’s go. I’m alright now. Don’t worry so much.”

“Well, Pierro, worrying about the people I love is in my genes.”

“Pierro looked at me, and I saw a tear run down his face. And he wiped it away with the back of his hand. I said, “Here, let me grab the ladder. And before he could try to get it, I picked it up and said, “I’ll meet you out back.”

He met me out back. He must have raced all the way because he was out of breath. “Are you alright, Piero? You look like you can’t breathe.”

“ Ok, don’t start that again, I’m fine.”

I set up the ladder next to the trellis, and we began attaching the vine to it. We worked together, and before you knew it. It was done. Piero stood there smiling from ear to ear. This is one of the reasons I loved Piero, small things made him happy, he never complained. And even better, he had led a highly interesting life. And I loved hearing about it. He had served in the military and had several medals to attest to his courage and fortitude. And the stories he would tell were spellbinding. I can’t express how much I love this old man; the thought of never seeing him again at some time in the future breaks my heart. So, I made every effort to block it from my mind. I call out to him, “Hey Piero, how about coming over for dinner tonight? If it’s nice, we can eat on the back porch. I’m making your favorite spaghetti and meatballs. And I made a cheesecake, your favorite?”

“I say, “ what time, I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Really, that is a sight I would love to see. Be here at 5 o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

I saw a grin cross his face from ear to ear. “I’ll be there on the dot of five.”

I smiled at him, waved, and said, “See you later, crocodile.” He laughed like it was the first time I said it to him, but I say it every time I talk to him. I waved and headed back into the house, stirring my sauce pot. I can’t help but think how lucky I was to move next to this gentle old man. He’s the father and grandfather I never had.

At five o’clock on the dot, I hear my doorbell ring. I look out the window, and sure enough, it is Piero looking back at me with a big smile on his face, and he is rubbing his tummy in preparation for the big pot of spaghetti and sauce. He says, Buonasera, which means Good Evening in Italian. I only know Buonasera and Bon Journo, which means Good Day. He arrives with a big smile and a bottle of his wine. “Come in, come in, no formalities between you and me after all this time, Piero. You are so, so welcome in my home.”

The meal was good; even if I say so myself, the sauce was perfection. And the spaghetti was cooked just long enough, but not too much. “Don’t forget to eat your veggies, Pierro. You can have the cheesecake for dessert if you eat them all.” A big smile crossed his face. And then he said, Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Rudy, he made wine in the old country? I worked there for many years when I was quite young.”

I had heard this story many, many times over the years. But I said, “Oh, please continue. I love hearing about your Uncle and Aunt and the vineyard.”

And so he began the litany of his whole life, growing up working in his Uncle’s vineyard, making the wine. It didn’t matter how many times I heard this story, and I loved hearing it. The love that his family had for one another was heartwarming. I couldn’t hear it enough. I grew up in Foster Homes from my entire childhood through my eighteenth birthday. And that is when I was released from the states care to the big, cold world. One which I had no clue how to navigate. I hadn’t even finished high school. When I found myself on my own, with no job, no money, and no place to go. I ended up working at fast food restaurants. One of my coworkers offered to let me share his room if I would pay half the rent. And then took some night classes at the local county college. I learn how to use computers. It turned out that I had a natural gift for programming, which turned my life around.

I began to become well-known in the field and was offered one promotion after another. And here I am, living the good life. I own my home, which I paid off in five years. I have a new car. In fact, I have the means to “buy” myself anything I need or want. But I always wanted a family that loved me as far back as I can remember.

And then one day when I was in the main office where I worked a young woman knocked on my office door. I signaled for her to come in as I was talking on the phone to a client. I glanced over at her; she looked like a breath of fresh air. I couldn’t stop glazing over at her. Finally, I was able to get off the phone. I looked over at her and said, “Can I help you? And she said, “Well, actually, I’m here to help you. I’m your new assistant. My name is Angela DeMateo if Could you be so kind as to tell me what you need to be done ASAP? And what can wait? I will get down to business. “

Without realizing it, I kept staring at her, unsure as to what I should do or say. And then she cleared her throat and said, “Perhaps I should begin by familiarizing myself with your most important clients. And I will go from there. I pointed to my filing cabinet and said, “I suggest you begin with the McFarland file. They are my biggest client. Once you have a grasp of what we need to move forward with from there we can talk again, If you have any questions at all, please feel free to ask. Here is my cell phone number if you ever need to contact me when I’m out with a client or working at home.”

Angela nodded her head and said, “I understand. I will begin now, if at anytime you need my assistance I will be availale. And that was the last time I saw her that morning until Angela buzzed me and asked if she could order lunch for me. And if so, what did I want? I told her anything but fast food and bad memories attached to fast food restaurants. She said, “ I understand. And I will be back ASAP with your lunch.” And she was in a shake of a lamb’s tail. The lunch was delicious. The next time I saw her was about thirty-five minutes before closing time. She came into my office and handed me what she said were the files that she had completed. I quickly looked them over. And it appeared as if she could fulfill any task set before her.

I said, “Angela, I think it is safe for you to leave now. I’m caught up on my clients. Thanks to you. I will see you no later than 9 a.m. tomorrow. Have a good evening, Angela.” She looked at me and said, “I hope you have a good evening. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow. You have my cell number if you need to contact me for any reason.”

And so it began. Over time, I realized that not only did I become reliant on Angela at work, but I knew that my feelings toward her ran deeper. So, although I knew it was a bad idea, I asked Angela if she would be interested in going out to dinner with me. At first, she hesitated, and I just stood my ground, and finally, she said, “Yes, I would like to have dinner with you.”

And that evening marked a beginning of my life, it was clear to everyone but me that I was in love with Angela, and life without her would be a sad life indeed. We began seeing her on a regular basis. We became good friends, and then it became more. She hadn’t mentioned any boyfriends. I asked her, “Could you please tell me the length and breadth of your feelings for me? Please be honest. Please tell me if you’re not interested in a long-term relationship.”

Angela closed the door behind her, walked over to me, put her arms around me, and kissed me. I took that as a firm “yes” that she was interested in. And friend, that was the beginning of my new life with a woman I loved, and I am getting married. And the rest, my friends, is history:. Finding true love and happiness with a woman who loved me. And if that isn’t a happy ending to a fairytale, I don’t know what is.

BECAUSE I WAS A GIRL, I WAS TOLD I COULDN’T BE A TUGBOAT CAPTAIN

Ben Franklin Bridge, Philadelphia, and New Jersey

Kathleen grew up in the early 1950’s and 1960’s in an Irish and Italian Catholic neighborhood. Everyone in the neighborhood lived in similar houses with big backyards. The Catholic church and the Catholic School were within walking distance for all the children in our neighborhood. It was unusual for any of the Catholic kids to attend public school. But all the kids who were Christian but not Catholic attended public school. They were referred to as “The Publics” by all the Catholic kids. It was like it was some disease or something. And woe be it to any Catholic School student to be ejected from the Catholic School. And then had to attend “Public School.”
Kathleen’s family consists of a mother, a father, and five siblings. Kathleen’s siblings were all a lot older than her. In fact, her eldest siblings no longer lived at home. They were married and lived with wives and their own children. That may seem like a large family, but back in the day, all the Catholic kids had large families. Kathleen had friends in school who had up to ten children, sometimes more. When Kathleen visits one of her Catholic school friends after school, she is overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who live within the walls of their homes. Homes that were approximately the same size as her own home. It had four bedrooms, two parents and six kids. The noise level alone was overwhelming. Not to mention,, there was only one bathroom, which all of the family members had to share. So, as a result, most people only bathe once a week. I kid you not.

On the bonus side, due to the large families with lots and lots of kids, Kathleen never had a shortage of friends in the neighborhood or the town to play with after school, on the weekends, holidays, and, of course, all Summer, which was every kid’s favorite time of the year.

Kathleen’s parents never really seemed to be concerned about her whereabouts. She was told to be home by five o’clock for dinner. And in the Summer to come home when it was dark. Neither one of Kathleen’s parents ever asked her where she had been or what she had been up to. When she was going out, her mother would say, “Don’t be late. Dinner is at five o’clock.” Kathleen would be out the door and on her way to visit one of her friends in no time flat. When it started getting dark out, Kathleen would jump on her bike and head home. And yelling, “See you later, alligator. And her friends would respond, “After a while, crocodile.”

When Kathleen wasn’t busy visiting her friends, riding her bike, or roller skating, she would head downtown and visit the library, or the 5&10 Store, or the candy store. If she had enough money, she would ride her bike down to the custard stand and get a vanilla custard in a cone. Sometimes, she would stop by the vegetable stand, and the nice lady who worked there would give her a piece of fruit, or the lady who worked in the town bakery would give her a donut. By the time she made all her rounds in the downtown shops, she would be so full that when she got home to eat dinner, she wasn’t in the least bit hungry.

Her mother and father would say, what’s the matter? Why don’t you eat something?’ And Kathleen would answer I’m full. Her father would say, “What’s wrong with her? She eats like a bird.” Her siblings, who knew what she had been up to downtown, didn’t say a word. They just laughed. Her next older sister would say without fail, “Yeah, a vulture.” Her mother would say, “ OK, that’s enough, stop picking on, Kathleen. And eat your dinner.”

After dinner, Kathleen helped clear the table, and then she would have to do her homework. Kathleen had trouble with math, and her mother would help her” by giving her the answers.” But Kathleen had no idea how she got the answer. And then her father would say, “Come here, I’ll show you the right way to do it. But his way was completely different than what she learned in school. And the more they helped her, the more confused she got.

After her homework was finished, if it were one of her father’s nights off, she would sit in the living room with him and watch Gunsmoke with him or Wagon Train or Have Gun Will Travel? They both loved the old Western TV shows. But woe be to anyone who sat in the living room and made the mistake of talking while Kathleen’s father was watching TV.

Around nine o’clock, Kathleen’s mother would say, “Time for bed, time for bed.’

Kathleen would beg to stay up later, but her mother knew if she didn’t make her go to bed now, she would want to stay up until 10 PM. And that was out of the question. So, finally, Kathleen would give in and get up, and her mother would say, “Woah, you have to go in and brush your teeth. And you know you have to say your prayers before you go to sleep.”

“Kathleen would roll her eyes and go in and brush her teeth as fast as she could. And then spit it out and drink some water. And head off to her bedroom. Her mother would yell up the steps, ” Your prayers, say your prayers.” And Kathleen would say, “Yes, Mom, yes, Mom. “ She would say a fast Hail Mary and Our Father and then bless herself and try to fall asleep as soon as possible before her sisters came in the room they shared and woke her up with all the rackett they made all the time. As Kathleen started to fall asleep, she remembered she had to get her mother to sign a paper to go on a trip to the Ben Franklin Museum. She fell asleep before she took the paper downstairs. By the next morning, Kathleen completely forgot about the permission slip.

The next day, when Kathleen arrived at school, she realized that she hadn’t gotten the permission slip signed. And she decided to run home as fast as she could and have her mom sign it. The school wasn’t that far away. But she just barely made it back to school before the morning bell rang to go to school. Katleen was out of breath. She felt sick to her stomach since she ran so fast and she had just eaten breakfast before she left for school. Kathleen sat on the school bus quietly for the whole trip from her school to the Ben Franklin Museum. She felt like she was going to throw up any minute. Finally, Sister Joseph said, “Alright, we here. Everyone slowly gets up and brings any and all belongings with them. And form one line and follow the student in front of you.

As Kathleen got off the bus, she realized that she was going to be sick, and she stepped on the sidewalk and threw up. Unfortunately, Sister St. Joseph was standing there. And she was on the receiving end of Kathleen’s upset stomach. All the kids started laughing until they saw Sister Joseph Catherine’s face. Then they immediately stopped laughing, double-timed it, and entered the double doors in front of the Ben Franklin Museum. It looked like everything would be alright until one of the boys started laughing, and before you knew it. All of the kids were laughing. Kathleen knew she was in big trouble. Sister Joseph Catherine was two-stepping it in her direction. “Kathleen, you are to stay by my side for the rest of the day; after we leave the museum, you will sit next to me on the bus back to school. Do you understand?”

I looked down and nodded yes to her, the thought of sitting next to her on the bus all the way back to school, seemed like a nightmare. If there were any way to get out of this mess, she would do it. Catherine felt a tear run down her cheek, and more followed. Catherine wiped her sleeve across her cheek. There was no way she was going to let anyone see her crying. Kathleen took a deep breath. And slowly walked toward Sister Joseph Catherine. This was going to be a terrible day. Katherine wished she had stayed home.

For the next several hours, Kathleen followed Sister Joseph Catherine all around the museum. She could barely look at the exhibits. She decided that on the next school trip, she intended to pretend to be sick. Because there was no way she was going to repeat this outing.

Kathleen’s stomach started to growl. She didn’t eat any breakfast this morning. And she was really thirsty. And then Kathleen heard Sister Joseph Catherine say,” It’s time for lunch. Let’s head back to the bus. That was the moment Kathleen realized she had forgotten to bring her lunch bag. And she didn’t have any money to buy lunch in the cafeteria.

Luckily, her best friend Helen asked her to sit next to her. When Anne Marie realized that Kathleen didn’t have lunch, she said, “No problem, you can have half of mine. My mother always packs too much lunch.” Kathleen smiled at her and said,” Thank you. I’m really starving. So, they found a table in the cafeteria and quietly ate their lunch together. Anne Marie said, “Wow, Sister Joseph Catherine really has it in for you today. “

“Yeah, I wish I didn’t even come today. She never leaves me alone.”

“Well, we had fun together, and your lunch was really good. Your mom makes great sandwiches. I guess we’ll see the rest of the museum when we’ve finished lunch. I love seeing “The Big Heart.”

“You do; I think it’s creepy, and the beating of the Big Heart makes me feel sick to my stomach. I hope the next time we go on a field trip, we do something new.”

“ Yeah, your right, they should take us somewhere new.”
The next thing they knew, the sister was calling all the students to gather as they were going to leave the museum and go see some historical sites, starting with City Hall. “Alright, children, we are going to get back on the bus and head towards City Hall to see all the historical sites. I want you to pay particular attention to the speaker because we are going to have a test at the end of the week regarding that period of history.” There was a group moan from all the children. Why did the sister always ruin everything with tests after an outing?

After the visit to City Hall, the kids all got tired and bored. They had enough history in one day and just wanted to go home. And before you knew it, the tour of the City Hall was over, and they were loaded back onto their bus and headed back across the Ben Franklin Bridge and back to New Jersey. All the kids were tired, and several of them fell asleep on the ride back to school. Kathleen was one of them. And then suddenly, the bus stopped. Kathleen woke up. “What’s happening?” The bridge is up because there’s a big ship going underneath it. It’s cool. You can see it if you look out the window.

All the students were glued to the windows, looking at the open bridge and at the gigantic ship that was passing under the bridge. The kids were excited and staring out the windows. When the ship got to the other side of the bridge, all the students tried to get to the other side of the bridge. All the kids started clapping.

The next day, the students were asked to write an essay about their outing, and they all talked about their outing to the Ben Franklin Museum. Kathleen decided to write about what it was like in the Big Heart exhibit. She wrote down every detail that she could remember. Then she decided that her next favorite experience was waiting to cross the Bridge while the bridge was up and the big ship was passing beneath. She added that she decided that she wanted to grow up and be either the captain of one of those big ships or in charge of the bridge.

When Kathleen got her paper back, the teacher said she had written a good description of her experience on their outing. However, there was no way that any female was going to grow up to be the captain of a ship or man at the Ben Franklin Bridge. Her teacher said, “She should accept that girls would grow up to get married and have children, or they could become teachers or maybe nurses because that’s what girls were supposed to do.

Kathleen got so mad that her teacher said that the only thing girls would be is a mother, a teacher, or a nurse. She decided that, on that very day, no matter what it took, she was going to be the captain of a boat or be in charge of the Ben Franklin Bridge. Tugboat going under Ben Franklin Bridge, Philadelphia/ NJ

But, it wasn’t until 1968 that a woman was allowed to work as a tugboat captain in New Jersey. But, after that first woman was hired, other women did the same. Sure enough, Kathleen was one of those women to be a tugboat captain, and she crossed the Ben Franklin Bridge countless times in her lifetime as a captain of a tugboat. And she led the way for other women to do the same. And it was because of women like her that all women were allowed to work in occupations that formerly had been men only.

WITHOUT CHALLENGES YOUR LIFE IS AT A STANDSTILL

It appeared to be an ordinary day, much unlike any other work day. I was sitting on the bench at the bus stop, waiting for my bus to Philadelphia to arrive. And it was late, really late. As far back as I can remember, that bus had never been late. I was getting nervous, I absolutely abhor being late. It just set my day off to a bad start. I began pacing up and down, looking for the bus. I thought I might go out of my mind. I hate being late for anything, let alone being late for a job I just started the previous day.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, it was extraordinarily cold outside. There was a cold, almost frigid wind blowing, and the rain that had been steadily falling began to become hale and sleet. Everyone standing on the corner waiting for the bus let out a moan, seemingly all at once.

I heard one woman say,’ What’s next? Why does everything bad always happen to me?” I stared at her hard and said,” It’s not just happening to you. It’s happening to all of us.” She looked at me, and if looks could kill, I would be dead right now. I stared back at her. She looked away while mumbling curse words under her breath. I stood there thinking, good lord, if this is the way this day is starting, what will the rest of the day be like?

And just as I was considering going back home and calling out for work that day, I heard the woman say, “Well, it’s about damm time.” And then everyone clapped. Loudly. You would have thought they won the lottery. But no, it was just the 407 Bus that runs from Main Street in Maple Shade to Philadelphia. And we all let out a sigh of relief.

As the bus pulled over to the curb, it drove through the muck and cold water that had collected there. And low and behold, we all got a filthy, freezing cold shower. We looked at each other, and then almost as one, we sighed and got in line to board the bus. We were frozen, wet, and filthy. From head to toe. What better way to start the day, I thought. And I let out a sigh and found a relatively dry seat behind the bus driver. The bus driver was cursing under his breath. I guess he wasn’t too thrilled with all the wet, miserable, and grouchy passengers he was going to have to deal with that day.

As I sat there wet and miserable, I kept telling myself, Oh, things will get better; don’t lose hope, things will work out alright, don’t worry. This is what I tell myself every time something goes wrong first thing in the morning. It’s like I’m my own cheerleader or something. I try to be optimistic about life, but sometimes I get overwhelmed and depressed. Life is not a bowl of cherries. It is more like a bowl of jello.

Ben Franklin Bridge Philadelphia/ New Jersey

As we headed towards the Ben Franklin Bridge, I couldn’t help but notice that the traffic was slowing down to almost a snail’s pace. And that is when I noticed that the bridge was up, but I didn’t see any ships passing under the bridge at all. I wondered what the problem was. I heard the bus driver, and he was saying, “OK, folks, it looks like there’s going to be some delay on the bridge. It probably has something to do with the ice storm. So, everybody needs to settle down and calm down. There isn’t anything we can do but wait.”

At just that moment, a man who was somewhat rotund and was wearing a really worn-out-looking winter coat walked up to the driver and said, “I want to get out. I can’t sit here all day and wait. I have to get to work on time, or I’m going to lose my job.”

The bus driver looks at the man and says,” Look buddy, the bridge is all iced up, and not only that the bridge is iced up and even if the bridge were down, I wouldn’t recommend you getting out of the bus and walking across the bridge in this kind of weather. It’s virtual suicide. So, please sit down, try to keep warm, and accept what’s happening. There’s no point in going off the deep end, literally because you’re going to get seriously injured or worse. Return to your seat, now.”

The man looked at the driver as if he wanted to kill him, and then he looked out the front window of the bus and said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” And he returned to his seat, looking as if he had lost all hope.

Everyone on the bus looked at each other, and then there was a moment of silence and a loud sigh of acceptance from everyone on the bus who had accepted that this day they were going to be late for work and there was nothing they could do about it. And then one middle-aged guy said loudly, “Well, hell, when I was a kid, the snow would sometimes get three feet deep, and I would stay out all day until dinner time. And here I am, stuck on a bridge over the Walt Whitman Bridge because of a little snow. “And then a young guy in the front says, “Well, if you feel like swimming across the Delaware bridge in this freezing rain and snow, then go ahead. Otherwise, sit the hell down and stop moaning. Nobody, but nobody is going to get to work on time today. We should have all stayed home.”

Everyone looked at one another, and then one guy said, “Well, I grew up in Pennsylvania in the 1950s. And I can vouch for the fact that back then, we got a hell of a lot more snow. That snow storm became known as “The Great Appalachian Storm of 1950,” the snow storm blanketed areas from western Pennsylvania southward deep into West Virginia with over 30 inches of snow. Several areas got more than 50 inches of snow, and in West Virginia, I remember my grandparents told us they got an unbelievable staggering 62 inches. So, we shouldn’t complain, Who knows what’s going to happen with this Climate Change. And that is when everyone on the bus started discussing Climate Chage. Some people didn’t believe in it at all, and other people explained in great detail exactly what was happening and what might happen in the future.

And just about that time, I heard the bus driver say,” OK folk, everybody go back to their seats and sit down. The bridge is closing, so it looks like we can be on our merry way; a little late is better than not at all. About twenty minutes later, we were on the other side of the bridge and only a few minutes away from downtown Philly as passengers began disembarking from the bus. Almost everyone was in a better mood and said thank you to our bus driver and waved to their fellow travelers as they stepped down from the bus.

I’m sure in the future, all the people who rode to work on this particular snow day will have tall tales to tell their children and grandchildren. We all arrived safely at our bus stop and hoped the ride home would be without any problems. We each stepped carefully down the steps and on our merry yet slippery way to our jobs.

As for myself, I felt a little lighter as I stepped down the bus steps. I know I will remember this experience for a long, long time. It would be a story that, no doubt, over the years, would grow and grow until it was unrecognizable. I let out a sigh as I stepped onto the sidewalk and hoped that my ride home would be a safe one. But who knows what challenges will come our way in the future? We have to take one step at a time, one day at a time.

DID THE WALLS HAVE EARS

I have been fascinated by the town of Haddonfield, New Jersey, ever since I attended high school at Saint Mary of the Angels Academy. I graduated in 1969. And after I graduated from St. Mary’s I worked for a high-risk auto insurance company in Collingswood. I rented a small one-bedroom apartment in Haddonfield. It was only a block away from the Haddonfield library and within walking distance of downtown Haddonfield. Some years later, after I was married, my husband and I were looking for a larger house to purchase, and I suggested looking at homes that were located in Haddonfield. And what I found fascinating was the local legend that all the local businesses had relationships with the local ghosts. Of course, I didn’t tell Steven about this. And I kept my fingers crossed.

Actually, we found one house that we liked, but it needed a great deal of repair. And we decided we couldn’t afford to have all the repairs done. Unless we did the repairs ourselves. In addition, the taxis in Haddonfield were high, very high. We would have to find another way to save money. Steven was going to have to rent an office too.

But then there was the experience we had when we were viewing the large Colonial house we were considering purchasing. How can I begin to explain our experience without coming off as some kind of nut case? Let me start at the beginning. And we had an appointment to meet with our realtor at the house we were considering purchasing. But when we arrived, our realtor wasn’t there. However, there was a note taped to the outside of the front door. It stated, “So sorry I couldn’t wait any longer for you. I’ve left the key in the mailbox so that you can view the house. Keep in mind that this is a house with a great deal of potential but needs work. As I previously explained to you during our last phone conversation.

Please give me a call if you decide you want to make an offer. This house has great potential, it is located in a fantastic neighborhood. And the schools in Haddonfield are top-notch. It is a safe and inviting place to live. The house is located close to the downtown area where you will find a great many wonderful restaurants. Not to mention the beautiful homes in that area. It would be a good investment, and with repairs, this house will eventually be a valuable asset for you. And if you start a family, the schools in Haddonfield are, without a doubt, the best in the area. Give me a call and let me know what you decide to do. Marion Lombardi.

My husband went over to the mailbox and opened it. And low and behold, the keys to the front door were indeed waiting there for us.

Steven put the key into the front door, and with some difficulty, he was able to turn the key and unlock the door. The door creaked open. We took a step forward into the entryway, and we found ourselves looking into what must have been the formal living room. We stepped inside, and to our left was a staircase that looked as if it must have been truly outstanding back in the day. To our right was a brick fireplace with a marble mantlepiece. Above it was a huge mirror that reflected the whole living room.

The floor looked like it was mahogany, but it was in very bad shape as it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a very long, long time. On the walls was a blue and silver wallpaper that looked like it had been hanging there for a century or more. And may well have been.

There were double doors between the living room and what we thought might be the formal dining room. It was empty save for what I can only describe as a long bar with a huge mirror behind it. Steven and I looked at one another, and finally, I said, “Why in the world is there a bar in the dining room?

Steven took a look behind the bar, and there wasn’t anything there except dust, years and years of dust. He blew at it, and he was able to see that the top of the bar was beautiful marble. He said, “Wow, I’m sure we could make use of this beautiful marble somewhere in this house.” I just nodded my head, and Steven said, “Kelly, let’s keep looking at the rest of this floor. There was a small pantry with shelves and drawers and a small pantry closet, and we walked through the doorway into a kitchen that looked like we were stepping right into the last century. There was an old, perhaps ancient stove that looked as if it hadn’t been used for decades and white cabinets that were tall and had glass windows. I said, “Oh wow, this kitchen has a great deal of potential.” Steven didn’t respond. So, I said, “Shall we carry on to the second floor?”

“But first, let’s go look out the back door. And see what kind of yard it has. And off we went to the back door. It was locked, and we didn’t have a key for it. And the front door key didn’t fit it. We looked out the back entrance and saw steps that were in bad shape, many bricks were missing, and the hand railing was in place but extremely rusty. The backyard was small, and we could see a two-car garage and a long driveway. There were large trees lining the driveway, and we could see the side of a neighbor’s house behind the trees.

Then we went to investigate the second floor there. When we arrived at the top of the steps, there was a railing to our right and a closed door in front of us. Steven walked over to the door and opened it. It was a bedroom with a large closet. I could see it had great potential. Steven said, “Nice, let’s keep going. The next closed door was just ahead of us. It turned out to be a huge bathroom with black and white tiles on the floor, a large tub with feet, and an empty medicine cabinet. As I looked in the mirror, I saw my reflection, and then, for a moment, I glimpsed another face. It looked like an elderly woman with many wrinkles and white hair that was pulled back into a bun high up on the back of her head. I saw her wink at me. And that is when I let out a blood-curdling scream. Steven said, “What in the world is the matter with you? What are you screaming about?”

I said, “There was a very old woman looking at me in the mirror?”

He said,” What in the world are you talking about” No one else is in the house.“

“I don’t know. It must be my imagination getting away from me again. You know, “a spooky old house and creaky steps. Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that I don’t feel like we are alone in the house. It feels like there are other people here, too.”
“Oh boy, you are letting your imagination get away from you once again.”

“Ok, Ok, that’s enough. Stop making fun of me. But, I promise you, I did see some old woman’s face in the mirror. She had long, grey, and white hair that was up in a bun with a metal clasp. And she had a wrinkled face. She looked ancient, really.”

“Oh brother, you are really letting your imagination get away with you. Let’s keep looking. We walked down the hallway, and to our right was another bedroom twice as large as the first one.” It had floral wallpaper on it. It was faded, but I imagine that once upon a time, a long, long time ago, it must have been beautiful. And some young lady loved it.”

“Let’s continue on, shall we.”

“Yes, let’s continue. As we stepped out the bedroom door we realized that there was a wrong iron gate ahead of us. But luckily, there wasn’t a lock on it. So, we just pushed it out of the way. And we walked into yet another bedroom. It was painted pink. Albeit a faded pink. “Good Lord, pink?”

“Well, maybe it was a baby’s room?”

Then we found a bathroom and a dressing room to the left. It was small but not in bad shape. I thought oh, maybe a bigger mirror. And as I looked in the mirror, I saw the old woman’s face again. She was staring at me so hard I could almost feel it. I screamed, “Good Grief! It’s that old woman again, “Why? Oh, Why? Do weird things always happen to me?

”Did you see her face in the mirror this time?”

“No, dear. I didn’t. You have an active imagination. It is a bit of a spooky house. It is old, and it’s been empty for a long, long time. Maybe it’s just energy that built up here over a hundred years.”

Let’s keep going. And they stepped back into the empty bedroom and towards a closed wooden door. That looked ancient. Steven stepped forward in the doorway. And then he let out a low whistle. “O my god. Would you look at the size of this room?”

I stepped through the doorway and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the biggest room I ever saw in any house I had ever seen in my own life. The ceiling had to be fifteen feet high. There was a huge chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. There was a brick fireplace on the back wall. And the window on the opposite side of the room nearly took up the whole side. I could see the top of two trees at the bottom of the outside of the window. There was a bird’s nest on the top, and I could see baby birds being fed by their mother. I made a 365-degree turn around the room. And I just could not get over the sheer size of the space. And all along the walls of the room were bookcases. There was not a single book on the shelf.

“Steven, it would take us a lifetime to fill up these bookcases. It’s bigger than the library where we used to live. This place is simply unbelievable. “ I walked toward the window and saw another window to my left. And I couldn’t believe my eyes but there was a balcony outside the window. And just as I was about to call Steven to come over and look at the balcony, I saw the old woman on the balcony, and she was waving at me. She was wearing a long, long black dress with a white lace collar, and as I stared at her, I realized that her fingernails were very long and were painted a bright red. They were almost glowing. I turned around to get Steven’s attention. “Steven come here, the old lady is out on the balcony. Hurry, hurry.”

Steven nonchalantly walked over and then I heard a gasp come out of him. And he said, “What the…”

“ Steven what is it.”

“It’s the old lady, I saw her. She is standing outside the double doors. She’s on the balcony.”

“I told you, I told you. You never believe me. But, now you saw proof.”

“I guess I did.”

“Well, Kelly let’s get the hell out of here. It’s giving me the creeps.”

“What? You mean you were going to let some ghosts keep you out of this fabulous house? And you know this would be absolutely perfect. You could have a home office right here instead of renting space. That would save you money, wouldn’t it? How about we think about it overnight, and then we can make a decision?”

“OK, but I’m certain, I won’t change my mind. Let’s discuss it again tomorrow. Meanwhile, tomorrow I’m going to go to that library we passed on the way here and do some research.”

The following day, I spent several hours at the local library. What I found out was that many people who are Haddonfield residents or are owners of Haddonfield businesses have a cordial relationship with the local ghosts. Many residents have reported over the years or were aware of that creepy feeling of being watched in their own older homes.

And then one day that I will not forget, I was standing in the biggest bedroom when I heard what sounded like an older man clearing his throat and coughing vigorously. And then I saw smoke and smelled smoke rising up to the chandelier that hung from the fifteen-foot ceiling above me. It really freaked me out and I went downstairs looking for someone else to tell about my experience. But everyone had already left for the day. I thought about calling one of my friends but I knew they wouldn’t believe me. And most likely, they would go around town and tell everyone they knew that I was losing my mind. So, I decided to keep it to myself.

From that day forward I often felt the presence of an unseen person and often smelled the cigar smoke. I decided to keep it to myself. As I continued my research into the people who have lived in the house over the past one hundred or more years, that the most likely life force roaming the house was the original owner who died suddenly from a combination of lung cancer and heart disease. And it was believed by many of the older residence in the area that he still lived within the hallowed walls of the old house. And most likely there lived similar spirits in most of the older homes, especially in the Grove area where the oldest homes resided.

Over time I became comfortabel with this belief. In fact, I found some comfort in the thought that I was never really alone. That old soul still visited or even lived permanently within the walls of my historical home. Then one day I woke up feeling fatiqued even though I had fallen asleep early the previous evening. And then I felt a shortness of breath and then a crushing pain in my upper chest. And that was the last thing I remember. And then one overcast day I became aware that I was looking down from the ceiling next to the large chnadaleir in the center of ceiling in the large bedroom. And that is when I realized that I, yes, was no longer among the living but was now a spirit that lived within the walls inside my beautiful Victorian home.

I HAD A DREAM WHEN I WAS A KID, THAT I WOULD BECOME AN INVESTIGATOR

For as far back as I remember, I loved going to the library. The day I was old enough to get a library card, I rushed home from school and ran through our red front door. And I begged my mother to let me go to the library and get my very own library card so that I could borrow books on my very own library card.. I finished reading my last book on Sunday afternoon, so I was really looking forward to finding a new book to read.

As I walked through the swinging doors of the library. One of my school friends was on her way out, and she said, “Hi, Terry. How are things going?” I said, “OK, I just finished reading my last Nancy Drew novel, and I wanted to find a new one. I absolutely loved mysteries. “

“Me too. My mother keeps telling me to go outside and get some fresh air. But, once I get started on a new book, I have to finish it. Or, I have trouble sleeping at night. Of course, while I’m reading a new book, I have trouble sleeping at night because I want to find out what’s going to happen.”

“That’s weird. That’s exactly how I feel. Oh well, I better get into the library, so I have time to find a new book, and I won’t be late for dinner. I’ll talk to you later, bye.”

I walk through the doors and head towards the children’s fiction section. I wave at the librarians at the front desk. And they both wave back at me and say, “Well, we were wondering where our little bookworm, Terry, was today. LOL.”

“Oh, I was a little late getting out of school. And when I got home, my mother had made some cookies. And well, I didn’t want to miss having some because I knew my sisters would eat them all before I came home from the library.” The librarians all laughed and said, “Well, you better get busy finding a good book before they’re all taken.”

For a moment, I was terrified, and then all the librarians started laughing. And I realized that they were joking. I said, “Oh, that’s so funny. Ha, ha, ha…

I had a couple of books picked out and was looking for a third one when I looked up at the big clock on the library’s wall and realized that it was time to leave. Or I would be late for dinner. And that would make my parents mad. I decided I better check out my books and get home. Because tonight was one of the nights when I had to set the table for dinner. So, I grabbed my books and headed toward the check-out desk. All the librarians smiled at me because they told me they really loved all the bookworms. I didn’t tell them that I hated being called a bookworm because they were always nice to me when I came to the library.

I handed over my library card, which had my name on it, and the code MA236. And the tall, thin librarian asked for my books. I always thought she looked like Popeye’s girlfriend, Olive Oil. But my mother said, “Don’t call her Olive Oil. You’ll hurt her feelings.” I just said thank you, I’ll see you later after she handed me my books and my library card. I head off to the book stacks, and I begin my search for my next book is the Mystery section of the library. Even though I’m not an adult yet, the librarians know I have read all the books in the children’s sections and let me borrow adult books.

After perusing most of the mystery books, I finally found ‘the one.” It’s a mystery story about stolen jewels and a jewel thief, whose name is Larry Lawton, who apparently was a famous Jewel thief at one time. Terry took the book over to one of the tables in the adult section and began to skim the description of the book and the names of the chapters. Oh, she couldn’t wait to read. It was probably one of those books that she would read all the way through in a couple of days. It sounded so exciting. Terry took the book up to the check-out table and handed the librarian my card. She said, “Wow, I can see you are a big reader. Your library card has really had a workout.” Terry didn’t realize that the librarian was kidding. And she just said, Yeah.”

On her way home from the library, she ran into a couple of her classmates. They said in unison, “Oh, here comes the bookworm and laughed. Terry just ignored them and kept walking and then she started walking faster and then started running. By the time she arrived home, she was out of breath. When she arrived at her front door, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She never understood why kids were mean to her, especially when all she did was keep to herself and read books. Why would they care?

She made her way into their kitchen, and her mother said, “What happened to you? Why is your face all red? Were you running? Was someone chasing you again? Terry said, “No, Mom, I just decided to see how fast I could run home. That’s all.

“Well, I see you got a new book. What kind of book is it?”

“It’s a mystery, just like all the other books I read. You know, I like to figure out what is going to happen in the story by myself and then read the ending. It’s fun.”

“Terry, you are an interesting and intelligent young girl. I know you are going to do great things in your life. And you won’t let anyone or anything stand in your way. I think you are awesome.”

“Oh, Mothers always say things like that to their kids. It’s part of their job as a parent to help their children feel confident about themselves.”

“Terry, what you just said is an example of how intelligent you are. Few kids would even think to say anything like you just did. You are going to go far in life.”

Terry felt her face blush, and she said, “Oh, Mom. I guess I’m going to go into my room and read until dinner time.”

“OK, Terry, it will be at least one hour from now.”

Terry went into her room, pulled her chair next to the lamp, plopped down onto the rocking chair, and immediately opened the book. She opened the book and rocked forward on the rocking chair, and a slip of paper fluttered to the ground.

Terry didn’t notice it right away because she was already engrossed in the first chapter of the book. And the next thing she knew she heard her mother yelling up the steps that dinner was ready. Terry looked at her clock, and sure enough, it was dinner time. She reluctantly put a bookmark on the page she was reading and closed it. And then she put it on her bedside table. She was about to head down for dinner when she saw the slip of paper on the floor.

It said, “For whoever finds this note, please contact me as soon as possible. I desperately need help. Terry thought it must be some kind of prank that the last person who checked out the book must have left the note as a joke, for the next person that read the mystery book. Or maybe the librarians put the note in the book as a surprise for her. But, then she noticed at the bottom of the small note was a phone number. She decided to hide the note inside the book cover until she decided what to do about it. And she went back to reading her later mystery story. It was called, “ When the bell tolls, could it be ringing for you?”

Terry loved the title because it promised the story would be kind of scary and mysterious at the same time. Terry loved solving mysteries. She planned on being a detective when she grew up. She couldn’t think of anything she would rather do than solve mysteries and save lives. She wanted to make a difference in the world and fight evil. She knew she was a young girl, but somewhere deep inside resided the heart of a courageous heroine. And she looked forward to the day everyone else would recognize her as a true crime fighter. She truly believed that she would be a real fighter of crime and evil in the real world, as Nancy Drew was in the books Terry read.

The following day, after Terry arrived home from school, Terry remembered that her mother said she might be a little late and she would leave a snack out for her. And that she would be home in time for dinner. And sure enough, Terry found her favorite snack, Fig Newtons, and she dropped her school bag down on the kitchen floor and kicked her shoes off. Then she got a clean glass and poured herself a cold glass of milk. And retrieved her latest book from her room and sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy her snack. But, as she was sitting there it occurred to her that it was the perfect time to call the phone number from the note that dropped out of the library book she took out yesterday.

Terry decided to make the call out on the back porch, just in case her mother came home early for some reason. As she settled herself on the porch chair, she quickly called the phone number on the note. The phone rang several times, and Terry was about to give up when she heard someone say,” Hello, hello.” Terry finally got the courage to respond; she said, “Hello, my name is Terry. I found your note inside a library book that I checked out. Are you alright? Are you in trouble? Is Somebody hurting you? Do you want me to call the police? Tell me where you live.”

There was silence for several long minutes. And then Terry heard a young girl’s voice saying,” Can you meet me today at four o’clock? I need your help.

Terry took a deep breath and swallowed, and then she said, “that depends on where you are at. I will have to ride over there on my bike. Is someone trying to hurt you or won’t let you go outside? Do you want me to call the police to help you? Were you kidnapped?”

“No, I haven’t been kidnapped. I need you to come to my location to talk to me. It’s a secret location, so you can’t bring anyone else with you.”

“Oh, I don’t know. My mother has warned me to talk to strangers or go alone to a place I’ve never been before. How far are you from where I live? Do you know where I live?

“I know where you live, and I don’t live too far from you. I’ve seen you at school. I am in a different grade than you are. But I’ve seen you around. Do you want to come here or not?”

“What is this all about?”
“Terry, it is a test to see if you are ready to become an “investigator” isn’t that what you always wanted to be? We do not accept just anybody, and we have been watching you for quite a while. Only a few qualified people are invited to join. Are you interested or not?”

“Yes, I do want to be an investigator, but I’m just a kid. Did you know that?”

“Yes, of course, we have been watching you for a while. I am going to leave a note for you in your mailbox tomorrow after school. And there will be directions to my location. If you decide to participate, be there by 4:15 pm. We won’t wait passed that time. And then the voice gave Terry precise directions. Terry thought about it for several minutes and said, “OK, I’ll come tomorrow to your location. This better not be some kind of prank on me.”

“I promise this is not a prank I’ll see you tomorrow by 4:15.” And then Terry heard a dial tone. And she hung up. Terry didn’t know if she was scared or excited. She didn’t have any intention of telling her mother what she was up to. She had trouble sleeping that night. And the next day she had even more difficulty paying any attention at school. She probably failed her Math test because she couldn’t concentrate on anything. She kept thinking about what might happen the next day.

Terry all but flew home the next afternoon after school let out. She ran up to her mailbox and pulled open the door with such force that she almost broke the door off. And there it was, a note. Terry pulled out the note, and it was typed so that she couldn’t recognize any handwriting. It said, “You must arrive at the following address today by 4 PM. The address is 26 South Forklanding Rd. It is a white house with a red door. There are Holly Trees on either side of the front entrance. Go to the backyard. You will see a shed with a bell over the door. Ring the bell three times and then say your name. We will be waiting for you. Say the secret password, investigator.”

Terry followed the instructions to the letter. After she rang the bell three times, she said, “Investigator.” And then someone said, “You may come in.”

Terry’s heart was beating like a snare drum, but she stepped forward and pushed the door open. And when she looked inside she saw a whole group of kids from school huddled in there. She was afraid that this was some kind of prank that was going to backfire on her. But what happened next was a complete surprise. She heard them say, “Terry, you are now a member of the Investigator Squad. We solve all the crimes big and small that occur in our schools and our neighborhoods. You will be a great addition to our team. What say you?”

“What say me? I say yes, yes, yes. And then they all shook her hand and made her promise to keep the club and what they were doing to stop crime a secret. And Terry smiled so wide that you could almost see her tonsils. And that was the beginning of Terry’s secret life as an investigator. And who knew where that would take her in her life? She believed she would be the new investigator that would take Inspector Clouseau’s place someday in the French Sure’te.

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JUST ANOTHER BORING MORNING IN MAYBERRY

Monday was an ordinary day like any other. I woke up early and lay in my bed for another twenty minutes or so. And then, I finally managed to gather enough energy to drag myself out of bed and throw my legs over the side. I slowly walked over to my bedroom window and gazed out across our yard and at my neighbor’s front yard. Suddenly, I heard a weird sound, and It sounded like a high-pitched moaning.

I couldn’t see what was causing the ruckus, so I opened my window even further and hung out as far as I could. My heart was beating like a snare drum. I could hear my heartbeat wildly. I felt somewhat lightheaded, and I feared I might pass out. or accidentally fall out of my window. I felt sick to my stomach. I have a tendency to be somewhat of a drama queen. At least, that is what my mother always says about me. I am afraid of everything, including bugs, snakes, mice, and big dogs. You name it, and I’m afraid of it.

Ever so slowly, I pulled myself back into my bedroom window and flopped down on my unmade bed. I lay there until I felt my heart beating normally, and I was breathing in and out, in and out. And my head stopped spinning. Sometimes, I have the feeling that I must be one of the most neurotic people in the world. In my mind, every little thing can become a catastrophe.

I decided to go downstairs and out my front door to see what the heck was going on. As I exited my front door, I heard one of my neighbors scream stop, stop, stop, my son is in that coach. I thought, what in the world is going on? So, against my better judgment, I ran out the door in my pajamas and across my front yard to the curb where my neighbor, Mrs. Rice, was yelling, “Stop, stop, stop. For the love of god, stop.”

I screamed at the top of my lungs, “What’s going on, Mrs. Rice?” And she said, “ Oh, Jennifer, my son was sleeping in his coach, and I turned my back for a moment because I heard my husband calling me.” And when I turned back around, my baby was gone. And the car that was parked next to it was driving down the street like a maniac.

“Mrs. Rice, “call the police, call the police.” And she did. She was yelling on the phone that someone who was driving a lime green pickup truck grabbed her baby out of his coach when she turned her back for a moment. That she only looked away for a moment to pick up his bottle. That she had dropped out of the coach accidentally.

She described the man driving the vehicle. He looked middle-aged and had a balding head and a mustache. And he was smoking a big cigar. His car looked like it had seen better days. And it looked as if it had been used for target practice. It had bullet holes on it on the front hood and the back window. The car was headed toward Fork Landing Road at a high rate of speed toward Route 38. Then she told the police her address. She explained where she was standing on the sidewalk next to the street, and “Please hurry.’

I stood next to her and held her hand because she had begun crying her eyes out. And she kept saying over and over, “Oh please bring back my baby, please bring back my baby.” The police finally arrived about fifteen minutes later. One of the police cruisers came down the street and pulled up next to the curb where we were standing. What looked like a giant got out of the police car and said, “ Mrs. Rice? I’m Officer Brown. One of my officers has cited the car that you described. And no doubt he will be able to stop the car and retrieve your son as quickly and safely as possible. Please calm down.

And then he looked down at me, “Well, was that your brother that the man took? “No, I only have a little sister. She’s a pest. She’s in my house watching cartoons. I saw this Mrs. Rice out here screaming and crying, “Stop, stop, stop.” And she told me that someone had grabbed her baby. And that he drove away in a car. And I told her to “Call the police.”

“Well, that was a good thing for you to do. Otherwise, the stranger could get far, far away.”

I looked at the police officer and smiled, and I thought, maybe someday I could become a police officer and save someone’s life.

The police officer said, “Hold on I’m getting a call from the officer that is chasing the get-a-way car.”

I looked at Mrs. Rice. Her face was pale but had big blotches of red all over it. She looked as if she was going to be sick to her stomach any minute. I took her hand again. It was all sweaty, but I didn’t let go of it until I heard another officer speaking to Officer Brown on his walky-talky. At least, that’s what I think they are called. And then he hung up. And looked at Mrs. Rice right in the face and said,” Good news. The kidnapper has been apprehended, and Officer McMullen is bringing your baby back. And he is perfectly fine and slept through the whole ordeal. They’ll be here any minute.”

And then Mrs. Rice started crying again. Big tears ran down her face. I couldn’t figure out why she started crying again. But I squeezed her hand and said, “Now, now, it’s going to be alright.” My mother always says that to me when I’m upset. And for some reason, she cried even harder. The officer looked at me and said, “You did a good thing telling her to call the police and staying with her until she got her baby back.

“Oh, here comes the squad car. Everything will be alright. You will need to come to the police headquarters first thing tomorrow to make a statement. Can you do that?”

Mrs. Rice shook her head up and down, and tears continued running down her cheeks and onto her coat. A moment later, another police car turned onto our street and slowly drove next to the curb where we were all standing. After parking the police car, the officer came out of his driver’s seat. He swung open the door, and we could see a baby that was lying in a blanket with a seat belt across it. The baby woke up and started screaming at the top of his lungs. Mrs. Rice reached in and picked up her baby, and tears rolled down her cheeks again. But, in that exact moment, a smile appeared across her face. “Thank you, officers, for saving my baby. I will be at the police station first thing tomorrow morning. And thank you so much.

“You’re welcome mam. I’m happy that everything turned out alright. It’s good that you kept calm and that you called the police right after it happened. Mrs. Rice still had tears running down her face, but a smile was on her face. Too. She said, “Thank you again, Jennifer, you saved the day.” What? No, I didn’t do anything. I just happened to be here right after it happened. The police were the heroes. I’m glad everything turned out alright. I have to be going now, I’m going to be late. Jennifer didn’t really have any place she had to be. She just felt uncomfortable getting all that attention. She wasn’t even going to mention anything to her Mom. She would make a big deal about it even though she knew that Jennifer didn’t like to be the center of attention.

Jennifer was about to head home when she saw what appeared to be a small dog or puppy running out into the street. Jennifer looked toward the house where the dog came from and didn’t see anybody outside looking for the puppy. But, the door was wide open. For a moment, she considered continuing on her way. But then she saw a car coming down the street in the direction of the puppy. So, she ran as fast as she could, grabbed the puppy, and ran out of the street to the sidewalk. She was slightly out of breath, and the puppy was whining and squirming in her arms. And she almost dropped him. “Good grief, puppy, hold still. I’ll take you back home where you’ll be safe.

So Jennifer carried the puppy back to the house that the puppy came out of and yelled into the front door of the house that the puppy came out of a few moments ago. “Hello, hello, is anyone home? I found your puppy running across the street. And then she yelled as loud as she could,” HELLO, HELLO, ANYBODY HOME?”

After what seemed a long, long time, she saw an old lady walk towards her from the back of the house. She said, “Can I help you, young lady?”

Jennifer said, “I was across the street, and your puppy ran outside into the street because the front door was wide open. So, I grabbed her and brought her back here. The old woman said,” Oh my, thank you so much. I must have forgotten to close the door after I got my mail. Sometimes I get forgetful. Thank you so much. I am puppy-sitting this week for my granddaughter. She went on vacation with some friends of hers. She is supposed to come back today. Oh, she would have been so upset if something happened to Arnold. Jennifer stared at the woman and said, “Oh? Whose Arnold?” That’s the dog’s name, Arnold. Thanks so much. Would you like to come in and have a piece of cake? I just took it out of the oven. That’s why I was preoccupied. And I’ll give you a big, cold glass of milk. What do you say?”

“Well, I would love that, but I’m not supposed to go into strangers’ houses.”

“Of course, you’re not. How thoughtless of me. How about I cut you a piece, and you can take it home with you and eat it after you eat lunch?”
“Yes, I would love that. I hope it’s a chocolate cake. That’s my favorite.”

“It is chocolate cake. This is your lucky day. Wait here. I’ll take the puppy and be right back. I’m going to put him in the front bedroom for a little while. Maybe he’ll take a nap. He has way too much energy for me to keep up with him. A couple of minutes later, the old woman slowly returned to her front door. I’m sorry for being so rude. I didn’t even ask what your name is.

“Oh, that’s OK. My name is Jennifer. I live down the street. I’m going to save this cake for after lunch because my mother doesn’t like me to eat sweets until after lunch. It looks delicious, and chocolate is my favorite.”

“Well, Jennifer, thank you for saving the puppy. Please feel free to stop by for a visit anytime. I would love to have you visit once in a while.”

“ Really, I would like to visit sometime too. I hardly ever see my grandmom.” Jennifer continued her walk down the street, wondering what was going to happen next. She couldn’t wait until dinner to tell her family about all her adventures today. In fact, every day, something interesting or exciting happens to Jennifer. And she would come home at lunch or dinner and share her exciting experiences. But nobody in her family believed her stories. They thought she just had an active imagination. But Jennifer didn’t make things up. She was sure her family wouldn’t believe her this time either.

Sure enough, when Jennifer’s mother called her to come home for dinner, and after everyone sat down to eat, Jennifer began telling of her adventures that day and how she was a heroine. But, once again, no one believed her. That is until the next day when their local newspaper arrived early that morning. And on the first page of the World News and Daily Report, which was the name of their local small-town newspaper. There was a story on the first page relating to Jennifer’s experiences helping save the baby and the puppy.

Jennifer’s family was flabbergasted. But they all stood up and clapped for her heroism. And Jennifer was so happy and proud that she almost started crying. Her mother gave her a big hug and said, “You’re a hero. We are so proud of you. Jennifer blushed and bowed and said, “I can’t wait to tell you what happened today.” her family all grew as one, and then they laughed when the first words out of her mouth were, “Well, first of all, I saw an eight-foot-tall man getting an icecream at the Custard Stand and then I saw an old man riding a unicycle down Main Street.”
Her whole family laughed, and then they clapped. One thing is for sure: there was never a dull moment in their house when Jennifer was around. And they all gave her a big hug.

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LOVEY

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 amazing 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 frequent 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 great 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 huge 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 it had been broken by the loss of her mate. 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 on 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 gives 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 to the land of her birth, among her tribe. She sees her beloved Ganesha, she feels love fill her huge heart, and then peace.

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SOMETIMES TO LIVE IS AN ACT OF COURAGE

I have to admit I have a unique personality—one which many people take an immediate dislike. What, you may ask, is the problem? Am I hideous, racist, stupid? Or any of a million other negative personality traits I could have?

At first blush, I appear to be a self-confident, intelligent, normal-looking person. But, after meeting me for the first time, you may have thought, wow, she is really a cool, intelligent person. Not only that, she has an amazing sense of humor.

But then, after spending some time with me, you start to notice some odd quirks. I overreact to ordinary events. For instance, one day, we were out walking in the park. It was a beautiful day. The weather was perfect. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining. There was even a light breeze. It was early in the morning, and the only people in the park were older people, most of whom looked old enough to be my grandparents. They often said good morning and said, “What a beautiful day.”

Outwardly, I appear to be a friendly and confident person. But as you well know, things aren’t always the way they appear at first blush, so to speak. I do not like talking to strangers. I’m not all that comfortable talking to people I’ve known for years. I’m terrified that if I talk too much, I will reveal who I really am. And that will be the end of our somewhat tenuous friendship. You will realize exactly who and what I am.

And here’s the god’s honest truth: I am without a doubt the most phobic, fearful, anxiety-ridden person that you ever had or ever will meet. Let me explain how this came to pass. It all began one day when I was quite young. I believe I had just turned ten years old. My family lived in a small row home in North East Philadelphia. One time in the late evening, one of my neighbors had a fire that started in her kitchen. Apparently, she had left the gas stove on and a pan sitting on top of the burner that had oil in it. She had fried some potatoes for dinner that night.

Anyway, at some point, she decided to lie down on the living couch and take a nap. She had a tall glass of wine with her dinner. The wine had a tendency to make her sleepy. And within ten minutes, she had fallen fast asleep. One of her neighbors smelled something burning. She rushed over to her next-door neighbor’s house and banged on the front door. No one answered. She tried to break the door down to no avail. She grabbed her cell phone, dialed 911, and told the operator to send the fire department.

By the time the fire company and the police arrived, most of the neighbors who lived in the apartment building and were at home managed to get out of the building. And warn all of their neighbors about the fire. Unfortunately, not everyone made it out safely. The neighbor who had inadvertently started the fire had died from smoke inhalation. I was standing outside along with my family when my neighbor who started the fire was brought out on a stretcher. She was covered from head to toe with a white sheet.

I looked at my mother, and I could see tears running down her cheek. I grabbed my mother’s hand and said, “Mommy, is Gammy alright?” That’s what I called her, Gammy, because I didn’t have a grandmother, and Gammy had asked if she could be my grandmom since she didn’t have any grandchildren of her own. At least once a day, I would go over to her house to talk to her, and sometimes, my mom would give me some cookies or cake to share with her.

Gammy would give me some cold milk, and she would drink green tea., We would keep eating until all the cookies or cake were eaten up. Gammy told me stories about her childhood. She grew up on a farm in New Jersey a long, long time ago. Her family raised peach trees and blueberries. And sometimes pumpkins and corn in the Fall. I loved hearing her stories. It sounded like she had such fun on her farm. She used to help by feeding the chickens and the cows. I asked her if she could take me with her to visit the farm. And I saw tears in her eyes. And she said, “I’m sorry, I can’t. My family’s farm isn’t there anymore. There are apartments there now.” I could tell she was still sad about it. So, I took her hand and held it, and she hugged me tight.

Some of her stories were about the animals on her farm, and I loved to hear about them. I wanted to have a dog or a cat so bad. But my mother said, “We are not allowed to have pets in this apartment building. So, that was that. Even when I begged just to get a pet hamster, she said,” No, they will stink the place up, and people will complain about the smell, and we’ll get thrown out.” And that was the end of that conversation.

The next day, my mother called the hospital where Grammy was taken yesterday and was told, “I’m sorry she didn’t make it. She inhaled too much smoke and passed away during the night.” My mother didn’t tell me what happened right away. Even though I kept asking her over and over if we could go to the hospital and see Grammy. And finally, the next day, my mom held my hand and said, “I’m sorry, Kimmy, Grammy passed away last night. Try to remember that she lived a long and happy life. I’m sure she will be looking down from heaven and watching over you.

I stared at my mother for a long, long time, and then I started crying and whaling like I lost my best friend. Because that is exactly what happened. I had lost my best and only friend. And that was the beginning of me being afraid of every little thing. Because I never knew when or what would happen. And something could steal my mother away. And I didn’t think I could bear that.

I missed Grammy for a long, long time. I didn’t talk about her anymore, but I thought about her every day for years. I became afraid to make new friends because I couldn’t imagine ever losing my best new friend again. I just couldn’t take it. From there on out, I felt so alone in the world. And I watched over my mother like a hawk. I followed her everywhere she went up until I started school. All day in school, I was afraid that the principal would come and tell me something terrible happened to my mom. I felt sick all the time with fear.

The more fearful I became, the quieter I became. I started biting my fingernails and pulling my eyelashes out. I was afraid to answer the phone for fear of bad news. I wouldn’t look at the mail for the same reason. The bad news was all I thought about. I wouldn’t talk to strangers at first, and then I stopped talking to other kids in my school, including my friends. I decided it was easier not to have friends and family. Then, I could avoid their loss.

At one point, the school counselor contacted my family. So they could discuss my behavior. My parents thought I was acting out in class. They hadn’t realized how withdrawn I had become. I couldn’t help but believe that they didn’t care about me anymore. They should have noticed how thin I had become and how little I ate, but they didn’t. And things only got worse from that point forward. I develop twitches and tics. Kids at school started making fun of me all the time. Which only made me even more upset and obsessed.

Every morning, it took me a long, long time to get ready to go to school. I had to go through a whole series of behaviors before I could go out the front door. And then, once I did go out the front door, I had to hop, skip, and jump all the way. I didn’t know why I was doing all of this. I just knew I had to, or something terrible would happen to someone I loved. And I could not tolerate another loss.

By that time, my parents realized I was in a bad way. Every time they noticed me behaving strangely, they would sternly say, “Stop doing that now. That’s enough.” Of course, their lack of understanding and their negative reaction toward my tics just made it worse. I didn’t want to attend school anymore. All the kids made fun of me all day long, from the time I got on the bus to go to school and throughout the school day. It wasn’t just my schoolmates. All the kids from kindergarten up. I felt like I was running a gauntlet from the bus ride all through the day and then again on the bus ride home.

My parents took me to one therapist after another. None of them were able to help me. Because I wasn’t able to tell them why I was acting the way I was. I didn’t really understand what was happening to me either. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like the tics were taking over my body and my life. I was always depressed. I didn’t know how to be happy again. This particular doctor believed in talk therapy. He kept asking me how I was feeling today. What are you thinking about? It will help you to express your fears with me.

After many years, I went to the therapist, and I made slow progress in returning to acting like a “normal” person. I was able to finish school and get a job. I had difficulty keeping jobs even though I was intelligent and learned quickly. The main problem was my inability to interact with people and hold up my end of the conversation. My employers decided it would be best if I worked alone in one of the back offices. I was able to do any job they asked me to do up until I had to talk to people. Although, I had no problems talking on the phone or by correspondence. I did well. In fact, I excelled at any task they set before me.

I could have moved up in the corporation, except for my inability to interact directly with customers. Then there were my personal problems, in that I had great difficulty making and keeping friends. I was living a lonely and isolated life. And then, one day, it all changed. The company hired an employee, and they told me that he was going to work with me. I freaked out. I started feeling overwhelmed and terrified. I thought for sure I was going to lose my job as soon as this person started working with me.

As it turned out, it was a young man about my age. Just an ordinary guy. Someone you wouldn’t notice on the street. He wasn’t particularly good-looking or ugly. As soon as he walked into my office, he came over and introduced himself. He tried to shake my hand. I tried to pull it away. He held onto it for a couple of minutes. He said, “My name is Henry Fitzpatrick. I’m going to be working with you from now on. I’ve heard great things about you. I think I will learn a great deal from one another.’

I looked at him for a moment and then looked away. I started twitching and blinking my eyes rapidly. He continued talking to me as if nothing unusual was happening. He kept up his quiet dialogue. He never mentioned that I was acting weirdly. I started to relax. After a few weeks of working with him, I felt more at peace with myself than I ever had. One day, he asked me if I would like to go out to lunch with him. I said, ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m not very good in public situations. I don’t really feel comfortable in the public. I start twitching. “ I know all about that, and I think you will do fine. Don’t worry about what other people are thinking. Just try to relax and have a nice lunch. I would really enjoy going out with you.”

When it was time to go out to lunch, I started feeling nervous. But he took my hand and said, “How about we walk to the restaurant? It’s just down the street.” He kept up a quiet dialogue the whole time. In fact, he managed to eat his lunch and still talk. He told me some interesting stories about his childhood. I sat there eating my tuna salad sandwich and listened to him. He had a calming demeanor, and I listened to him quietly at first. And then I asked him a question or two, and before I knew it, we finished our lunch, and we were on the way back to our office. He looked over at me when we were within a few feet of our office building and said,” I had a great time. How about we go out to dinner sometime soon?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Of course you do. It will be fine. And we can go out to a movie after if you like. What do you say?”

I looked at him, and I thought, “Why not?” And that is exactly what we did. And the next time, he asked me to come to his house for dinner. He said I’m a great cook. How do you feel about Italian food?” I said, “ I love Italian food.”

Now, I’m not saying that from that point forward, I acted like a normal person. But I was a whole lot calmer, and I tried not to focus on my own behavior when I was interacting with other people. I focused on what they were saying instead. And over time, my tics all but disappeared unless I got upset. And now, my co-worker and I are the best of friends, and I think I may be falling in love for the first time. Life has never been better. And the best thing that has happened is that I have begun to feel more comfortable in my own skin, and I feel confident. I don’t know what is going to happen between Joe, my co-worker, and me, but I look forward to a happy life no matter what happens.

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SO APPARENTLY, IT’S BACK TO SQUARE ONE

About a month and a half ago, I received a notice “in the mail.” It was from my husband’s lawyer. My husband had filed for divorce. We had recently celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary. To say it was a shock is the understatement of all times. I had no idea, none, that he was unhappy or discontent. He was away on a business trip, and I had expected him to come home by the end of the week. He hadn’t contacted me since he left four days ago, which wasn’t unusual. He traveled quite often. He didn’t always know exactly when he would be getting home.

I called him on his cell phone. He didn’t pick up. There was a message saying he would be unavailable for the next several weeks. Leave your number, and he will get in touch with you.

I slowly placed the phone back, I had an impulse to slam it down hard, but I didn’t since I could already feel the beginnings of a migraine headache in the top of my head. I felt a tear run down my cheek, followed by an avalanche of tears that followed it.

I sat there frozen in place, unable to think clearly. It felt like the end of the world to me. I could not comprehend that my husband, whom I loved dearly, did not love me anymore and wanted a divorce. This is the man I had intended on spending the rest of my life all the way to our golden years.

I kept going over in my head everything that had happened between us recently. I couldn’t think of a single word or event that would have given me some warning that Howard was discontent or unhappy in our life together. But, obviously, he was, and somehow I had remained blissfully unaware of his feelings and his intentions.

It just blew my mind. And even on the evening of our twenty-fifth-anniversary party, he never let on. It almost feels as if I’m living in some alternate reality. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. Do I get a lawyer, should I ask my husband if he’s willing to see a marriage counselor? I don’t know. I talked to several of my woman friends who have experienced divorce, and they all gave me the name and number of the divorce lawyers they had used. Sally, my best friend, cried along with me. And told me she would be with me every step of the way. And she was. What would we do without our woman friends?

My husband’s lawyer and my lawyer scheduled a meeting for us all to get together and discuss the details of our divorce. Who gets what etc., etc. It was brutal. My husband sat across from me and never looked me in the face. It was like he was negotiating one of his real estate contracts with a total stranger. His face was without expression, and he never made eye contact with me. He looked through me as if I was invisible to him. I was having a difficult time paying attention to what was being said. I hoped my lawyer was doing his job because I felt like I was in some other dimension.

The next thing I knew, my lawyer touched my shoulder and said, “These are the papers you have to sign. You keep the house, and the two of you will evenly divide the investments and any monies that remain in your joint bank accounts.” I stared at him and shook my head up and down a couple of times. And then he shoved the contracts in front of me and held a pen up in front of my face. Since I wasn’t reacting to what he just stated. I took the pen, and my lawyer pointed at the decree and said,” Sign, here, here, and here. It’s final. We can be on our way.”

My husband got up from his seat, shook his lawyer’s right hand, and then turned and left the room without a word said to me at all. It was almost as if I didn’t exist in his reality anymore. And I guess I didn’t. It was surreal. I tried to take it all in. I guess it was going to take a long time for me to accept my new reality, even if that reality was a complete and unbelievable nightmare.

After we had signed all the papers, the lawyers shook each other’s hands. I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. I sat down again, and my lawyer gave me a glass of water to drink. He said, “This is a difficult experience. Many people have a negative reaction to divorce. I promise you that in time you will adapt to this change. You know how to contact me if you need to for any reason.” He shook my hand, and I think I shook his as well, but I couldn’t sware to it. I felt lightheaded. I slowly rose from the table, picked up my purse, and headed out the door and into the foyer. I didn’t even bother to look back at my husband, I mean, my former husband. I didn’t know how I would take my next breath, let alone continue on with my life like nothing happened. When I couldn’t think of a single reason to keep breathing or living. I somehow made it home safely. I don’t know how. I don’t even remember driving home.

But, one good thing did happen I decided that I was going to get a dog as soon as possible. I couldn’t bear the idea of living alone. I wasn’t ready to think about selling my house. But, it was in there at the back of my mind. Selling the house I had lived in for the past twenty years with my “husband.” And starting over, somewhere new. I had always wanted a dog. But, my husband said, “What for?” Unfortunately, we were never able to have children, and doctors were never able to diagnose the fertility problem. It just never happened for us. He didn’t want any part of adopting. And he even rejected getting a dog.

So here I am at the husk of a new life. Where I alone determine what is right for me, it has given me hope that, under my own power will make myself happy and eventually content. I will bring myself to my ultimate goal. And that is happiness and contentment. Is this too much to ask, you may say? “No, no, it is not.”

After weeks of vacillating about what I should do to turn my life around, I finally made the decision to hire a realtor and sell the house. I no longer considered it to be “my” house. It was just “a house.”

At this point, I wanted a complete change of scenery. And the night I woke up from a dream and realized that what I wanted to do was buy a house on the beach and get a dog. And spend the rest of my days in a warm climate walking my dog or perhaps dogs on the beach. At some point, I would have to find a job to help pay the bills. But, not right away, I wanted to have to accustom myself to the new home and perhaps make a friend or two.

As soon as I found “my” house, I would get myself a dog. And then my new life would begin. In the next three weeks, I spent all my time going from one house to another with my realtor, looking for that perfect home. About three weeks in, my realtor took me to a two-story home in Wildwood, NJ. And I immediately fell in love with it. I realized that it was big enough that I could rent part of the house out to make some extra money and still have plenty of room. I would live on the lower floor. Once I went to the settlement, I started hitting the local shops looking for furniture and everything else I would need. And within a month, I thought it was absolutely perfect.

The following week I took a trip to the local pound to get a puppy. There were quite a few dogs to choose from. But once I saw the little ball of fluff, I knew I had found my dog. The woman who worked at the animal shelter told me that he was actually a grown dog and he wouldn’t get any bigger. He was a must, but she wasn’t sure what kind of mix he was. As soon as I met him, I fell in love. And I knew he was the dog for me. I took him home that day. I named him Buddy because he had quickly become my best buddy. It took him a few days to become accustomed to my house. But, soon enough, he felt at home. Oh, and he absolutely loved walking on the beach and letting the waves wash over his feet at the shoreline. We were a match made in heaven.

Every day we started the day with a walk to the beach and back, and then we had a light breakfast. I had fenced in the backyard and put a doggy door in the kitchen door so he could go out back to the yard when he needed to relieve himself. He soon befriended our neighbors, who all turned out to be friendly, but not too friendly, if you know what I mean.

As a matter of fact, I began to make friends with some of my neighbors who had befriended Buddy. I started planting a garden in the front yard. And my neighbors came over to admire my handiwork. Some of them even asked me for gardening advice. I was happy to advise them, although I informed them that I, too, was a novice gardener and just learning myself.

Before I knew it, I had been living there for six months. And I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt more content and relaxed. In my free time, I decided to start writing some short stories about what was going on in my local area. And one of my neighbors suggested I send some of my stories to the local newspaper. Believe it or not, the paper said they would pay me to write stories about what was going on in the local area. And I was a little reluctant at first, but then I thought, “Why not?”

And so, now I am a paid writer for the local newspaper. I’m not making a lot of money, but every bit helps. Who knows what I will do next? The skies are the limit. I am quite content living in my house with my Buddy and so happy to live in a neighborhood where people care about one another. So, I guess my divorce wasn’t all bad. And who knows what good things are coming my way? I look forward to the future and what it will bring.

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WRITE ON

Writer's Blog by Susan A. Culver

Category Archives: Fiction

New Beginnings Are Often Disguised As Painful Endings.” — Lao Tzu

FAIRY TALES DO SOMETIMES COME TRUE

BECAUSE I WAS A GIRL, I WAS TOLD I COULDN’T BE A TUGBOAT CAPTAIN

WITHOUT CHALLENGES YOUR LIFE IS AT A STANDSTILL

DID THE WALLS HAVE EARS

I HAD A DREAM WHEN I WAS A KID, THAT I WOULD BECOME AN INVESTIGATOR

JUST ANOTHER BORING MORNING IN MAYBERRY

LOVEY

SOMETIMES TO LIVE IS AN ACT OF COURAGE

SO APPARENTLY, IT’S BACK TO SQUARE ONE