Category Archives: Fiction

THE STORIES OF MY LIFE

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retirement home

I have considered writing the story of my life for a long time. But something held me back. There are a lot of reasons why people, myself included, procrastinate. We all have our own reasons for putting things off. You could be lacking in self-confidence and unable to start things for fear of failure. Or you could be lazy and have difficulty finishing things.

But my justification for procrastinating is not any of those. My reason is that since I was a young child, I loved telling people stories of my daily experiences. As a child, most of my experiences were similar to other children my age. So, at some point, at a subconscious level, I decided that I would embellish my stories. You know, tweak it here, tweak it there. Make it a little more interesting, more spellbinding. Take the mundane experience up a notch. That’s not so bad. I never considered it to be lying. I considered it to be similar to creative writing. I never thought of it as a lie. Or if it was a lie, it was only a white lie. In other words a harmless lie. But, my ultimate goal was to entertain people by telling them interesting and funny stories to make them laugh.

I told most of my “stories” to my family at dinnertime. At first, my parents seemed to believe every word that spilled out of my mouth. My siblings were not quite so easily led astray. They would sit at the dinner table quietly with a look of disbelief on their faces. And at the end of one of my tales, they would either laugh or say something to the effect of, “what you got to be kidding? And they would start laughing. My father would say, “oh brother, you must have really kissed that blarney stone. That was a good one, and then he laughed and laughed and laughed. Which means he thought I was exaggerating.

Well, to be perfectly honest, I did have a tendency to exaggerate. But, then, doesn’t every writer have that proclivity? And I didn’t just share my stories at the dinner table., I told them to my friends, their parents, all our neighbors, and strangers on the street waiting for the bus. I loved a captive audience. I would start by saying, “hello, how are you. And then I would say, “oh, you know what happened to me?” And off I would go.

Sometimes, I really got carried away with myself and didn’t know when to stop. And the people would eventually try to escape by saying, “oh, here comes my bus, nice talking to you, little girl or I have to be going. I’ll be late for work. One older man that waited on the corner of Main Street at the bus stop always said the same thing. “ I have to go. I have a dentist’s appointment. I’m having a tooth pulled.” The day he said that for the last time that I talked to him, I said, “I’m surprised you have any teeth left to get pulled out.” I knew I had met my match that day, and I didn’t stop and regale him with any of my stories after that. I just waved as I rode by on my second-hand bike.

And then, one day, when I came home, we all sat down to eat dinner. All my siblings were there for once. I was thrilled I rarely had the opportuning to tell a story to both my parents and all of my siblings at once. I sat quietly for a few minutes. I was trying to decide what story I should tell everyone. We were all sitting quietly, waiting for our Irish Stew to cool down. My mother cooked it all day because she wanted it to be thoroughly cooked and hot when she served it. We could all tell it was scalding hot because the steam was rising up over our bowls in unison. So, as I sat there contemplating the tale I would tell, it came to me in a flash.

After everyone settled down and started eating dinner, I said, “guess what I saw today walking down Main Street. My oldest sister said, “ “oh no, here she goes again, with her stories. Does she really think any of us believe these stories. She has a wild imagination, that’s for sure. My father looked at me and said, “go ahead and tell the story. What or who did you see?”

I looked at my father and said, “well, I was walking past that vegetable store next to the bar across the street from the school parking lot. And I saw a woman who was wearing a long, red velvet coat. And a big hat on top of her head with a chicken sitting on it. And it was clucking away. And she had a basket over her arm, and it was full of chicken eggs.”

Everyone at the dinner table stared at me, and then suddenly, they all started laughing. I looked at my mother and father, and then I started crying really loud. “my brother said, well, that’s the biggest whopper she ever told. That even beats the story she told about the old man. She said that he had a bowtie around his forehead and wasn’t wearing any shoes or socks. And he got off the bus at main street and went into the bakery, and came out with a huge box of donuts.”

My father said, “OK, stop laughing. She has an active imagination and likes telling stories. She isn’t lying.”

My mother said, “ stop laughing and finish your dinner. She looked at me with a weird expression on her face. And that made me start crying even louder. Then I got up and ran out the run to the bathroom I didn’t come out until I didn’t hear any of them talking anymore, and it sounded like dinner was over.

But that incident didn’t deter me from telling my stories. I just decided that I would have to broaden my audience beyond people waiting at the bus stop and my family at dinner. So, I thought about it for a long, long time. And then it came to me. I would start visiting the old people’s homes and telling them stories. I was certain that they would love having a young visitor who spent time with them and told them some tall tales. So, the first thing the next day, I rode my bike down Route 73 and across the highway to visit the old people.

I parked my bike outside the front of the building and walked through the front door to a desk where a lady was sitting. She said, “ can I help you, young lady?” I looked at her, and then I looked all around, and I didn’t see any ladies, so I figured she must be talking to me. I had never been called a young lady before, and I was either called by my name or “hey, kid.”

“I would like to visit the old people every day and tell them stories. They’re very good stories. And I know they would love to hear them.”

She looked at me and the biggest smile I ever saw spread across her face. “When would you like to start?”

“Well, there’s no time like the present. That’s what my mother always says.” She laughed out loud after I said that. Just wait a few moments while I call one of the aides to come up front and show you around. And you can decide if you want to talk to one person at a time or everyone at the same time.”

“Well, I think I’ll tell one person at a time. And see how it goes over. And if they all like my stories, I’’ tell them all at once. What do you say?”

I say, ‘outstanding.” And then she called someone’s name over the loudspeaker. And I stood at the desk and looked around until a woman came over to me and said, “Hello, my name is Miss Hartman. I heard that you would like to tell our residents some stories. What is your name?” They are going to love that. Some of them hardly have any family or friends that come to visit them. And they rarely see young people.”

“ Oh, everyone calls me Sissy. Why don’t their families come to visit them?”

“Well, for the most part, they have outlived their mates and family members, or sometimes they live far away or don’t take the time to visit them. They get lonely. However, we have a lot of activities for them. They miss seeing people from the outside.”

“Outside.” Aren’t they allowed to go outside?”

“Oh, of course, they can go outside. I meant that they seldom come to visit them. So, it just so happens that most of the people are in the dining room eating lunch. And so, off we went to a big room with a lot of round tables spread out across the whole place. And there were four people at each table, and there was a lot of chatter from all the people talking. I noticed it was mostly old ladies and an old man here or there.

Then she said, “let’s go up to the front of the room, and I’ll make an announcement about you and how you like to tell stories to people. You can come up and stand next to me, and then I will introduce you to them. How’s that?” I was surprised that she wanted my opinion, “ I said, that’s great.” She smiled down at me. Let’s do it. So, I followed her up to the front of the room, and she called out,” Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement. Can you quiet down for just a moment, please?”

They all quieted down. You could have heard a pin drop. This young lady, whose name is Sissy, is going to start coming here and telling us some stories. She is a storyteller. And she said she could tell stories to everyone at once or come to your rooms and tell one person at a time. What do you think?”

And then, all of a sudden, everyone was clapping and stamping their feet, and someone yelled out, “tell a story now. Please.”

Miss Hartman looked at me with a big smile on her face, “Well, Sissy, it looks like you have a captive audience. Do you have a story you would like to tell right now?”

“Yes, I have a story about my neighbor, Mrs. Collins. She lives down the street from me, two doors down. She loves cats, and she has a long fenced-in area in her backyard that runs the length from front to back. And the cats have a door in the basement that they can go through to the cat run. She has over thirty cats. I like to visit them almost every day. They like to be scratched and talked to. I know all their names. And she has a big white dog with black spots, and his name is Rudy. He barks a lot.

And sometimes, one of her cats escapes out of the pen and gets in a big fight with the neighbor’s cats. They roll around and scream at one another so fast that you can’t even see them clearly. So, they all have scars on them from fighting with other cats, mostly Strottles, who loves to fight. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. And all the people started clapping and yelling, “tell another one.”

So, I said, “sure, well, let me think. Oh, I know I’ll tell you about what happened to me last Halloween.” And they all started clapping again. Well, first of all, my mother made me a costume. And it was a hot dog, with a roll with mustard on it. And I was in the Halloween parade. At first, everyone laughed at my costume, but I won the first prize because it was such an original costume. Since most of the other kids were dressed as ghosts or witches, a princess, or pirates. Then after the parade, we all started going around town with our pillowcases and knocking on everyone’s door and saying,” trick or treat.”

And I stayed out really late and ate so much candy I thought I might get sick. When my pillowcase was so full, I took it home and emptied it and then went out again on the other end of town and got it filled up again.’

Everyone started clapping and laughing. One old guy got up and said, “Hey, I used to do the same thing, and a lot of other people said the same thing. Al, the old ladies, and the men started talking to one another and telling them about their Halloween experiences, and everyone was laughing and smiling at each other.

Ms. Hart looked over at me at said, Sissy, I think that it would be just wonderful if you came all the time and talked to our residents. It looks like you helped bring back some of their good childhood memories and made them happy. Would you like to come and visit them?”

“Yes, I would love that. Especially visiting the old people that don’t get any visitors.”

Then Miss Hartman said, “may I have your attention, please? Would anyone like to have Sissy come back again and visit? And then everyone stood up and clapped their hands. And that was the beginning of me coming to visit the old people and realizing that they were just like me, only with wrinkles and gray hair. And making new friends every time I went to visit them. And it was one of the best experiences of my life.

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And The Winner Is

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The view out of the kitchen window is our front yard and across the street is his elderly neighbor, Mrs. McDonald. She is weeding her garden. Her garden is amazing in the Spring. Right now, it is a rainbow of different colored tulips. She orders the bulbs from Holland.

Cherry Hill Race Track, New Jersey

Henry watches her with a look of admiration on his face. She has lived alone in her house for many years. Her husband died unexpectedly over twenty years ago. After her husband’s death, Mrs. McDonald realized that she didn’t have enough money to survive on her own. So, she began renting out the second floor of her house. She never asks for help from anyone. And somehow, she had managed to keep body and soul together.

Occasionally Henry would cross the street and knock at her door. “Hello, Mrs. McDonald. I have some free time this morning, and I was wondering if I could help you in some way?” She would always respond, ” no, no, I’m fine.” And then Henry would say, “how about if I fix your fence, there are a couple of loose boards. And while I’m out there, I’ll tighten that gutter that’s coming off and take your trash out to the curb.” She would say, “Thank you, Henry. You’re a saint.” Henry would laugh and say, “I am the least saintly man you’ll ever meet. Have no doubt. There won’t be any place in heaven for me.”

Henry is a complicated man. Few people realize that because he kept his feelings close to the vest. He volunteers at the nearby church to maintain the pews in the church and does other minor repairs. But the fact is Henry doesn’t attend any church services. And although he wasn’t a member of any church, he’s fascinated by the religious beliefs of all cultures and reads about them in-depth in his free time. His current interest is the ancient Chinese beliefs of Taoism and Daoism. And yet when Henry goes to the vegetable store to buy vegetables, he calls the owner China-man. He’s been going to the same shop for years and never asks the man his name.

Henry works the night shift and sleeps during the days, except on his days off. On his days off, he does the food shopping or works on projects in his basement. On other days he spends at the racetrack making bets on the horses and talking to all his friends at the track. When he can’t go to the track, he calls his bookie up and makes bets on the phone. If he wins any money on his gambling, he doesn’t share that information with his wife. And he plays cards for money. His family has never met any of Henry’s friends, and he doesn’t talk about them at home. If his wife knows about his activities, she never brings it up. It would do little good because Henry is a man that doesn’t ask permission to do anything.

The fact is that Henry has two separate lives, one with his family and one with his friends and his fellow workers. Henry works for the bus company. They refer to him as Smiley. His family rarely sees a smile cross his face.

Occasionally Henry works part-time at an auto supply store within walking distance of his home on his days off. Once upon a time, in 1929, Henry and a friend of his started an auto repair business. Unfortunately, this was at the height of the depression, and it went out of business. Henry was a perfect fit for the position of running the auto parts store. Most of the people in town know him because they frequented the J. M Auto repair store. And they know Henry is knowledgeable about car repair. He’s friendly and talkative during his working hours.

But when he comes home, he is often silent. And spends his time reading the newspaper and watching the news, and TV shows, mostly Westerns. His family knows better than to interrupt him. Cody Henry’s dog lies on the living room floor next to Henry’s chair. And Henry pets him from his nose to his tail the entire time.

On Henry’s workdays, he sleeps during the day, and his wife wakes him up to eat his dinner before he goes to work at 4 PM. Sometimes he works the four to twelve shift, and sometimes he has to work the midnight to eight AM. His family is not allowed to make noise during those days that he’s sleeping. Woe to anyone that wakes up the sleeping bear.

Even though Henry doesn’t spend a great deal of his time with his family, he makes a strong impact on each member of his family. He expects everyone to work hard and do their best. He is a perfectionist.

One fine day Henry came home, and he had a big smile on his face. He burst into the kitchen and said, “a photograph that I took at the racetrack is going to be published in the Courier Post. And there’s a cash prize. And I’m going to take the entire family out for dinner.” It was actually two pictures. The first picture was of all the people standing and sitting in the stands watching the race take off. And the second picture was of the people tearing up all their bets that lost and throwing them in the air.

Henry’s family listened to his announcement with their mouths wide open because they had never gone out to dinner before. The following weekend everyone met up at the restaurant, and Henry said, “order whatever dinner you like. It’s on me. Everyone looked at him and at each other. And there was a smile on all of their faces.

The following Sunday, everyone was amazed to see their father’s photograph on the front page of the Courier-Post newspaper. Henry was smiling from ear to ear. And they all gave him a round of applause. It was a day that the family would never forget. The day their father smiled from ear to ear.

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HATS ON AND ON AND ON TO INFINITY

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It’s just another ordinary day. I wasn’t expecting anything unusual to happen. My alarm rings at 7:47 am, right on the dot. I dangle my legs over the side of the bed and let them hang there for a bit to get the circulation back.

Cowboy Hats by Paul Br751

I start making the bed, and as I get out of bed, I straighten the sheets and then the Cowboy comforter. I smile, just looking at that bedspread. I can’t believe how lucky I was to find it on eBay. I’ve looked for one for twenty years. I owned one when I was a kid, but my mother gave it away when I was sixteen. She said I was too old for a cowboy bedspread. Can you imagine? Too grown-up for cowboys, ridiculous.

I walk the twenty-seven steps to my bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I take off my hat and look at the top of my head that clearly has less hair this morning than it did yesterday. I sigh. Oh well, what can you do? I get out my mustache kit. I comb it straight down and then trim each hair one at a time. I comb it seven times I try to be vigilant about the length and the shape.

You just can’t let yourself go to hell, right? I decided tonight I would touch up the gray a little. Not all of it, of course, I like to look my best, but no one’s going to believe that someone that is sixty-seven doesn’t have some gray hair in his stache. I jump into the shower and wash and rinse myself seven times. I put on my clothes and look in the mirror. Not bad, I think.

I pull up my bamboo socks, you wouldn’t believe how comfortable they are, and your feet can breathe. And the Piece De Resistance is my hand-made vintage Lee Miller boots. They cost a pretty penny but believe me, they were worth it. They are hand-stitched with red hearts and inlaid white patches. I  feel like a million bucks.

This makes it even more difficult for me to understand why I can’t find a woman to keep me company in the sunset of my years. After all, I’m not bad-looking, have some money in the bank and own a home with no mortgage. What more could any woman want? Plus, I’m very, very neat, and a dam good cook to boot.

I set the table for two, I live alone, but I’m optimistic. I take two steps to the right and then two steps back. And take my seat as I eat my bowl of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch. I consider where I might purchase my next hat. My plan is to buy a Brick Cowboy Hat, which is similar to a cattleman cowboy hat but has a squarer crown. I also have to pick up my Gambler Cowboy hat because I left it at the hat shop to be blocked. It‘s a little too big for my head now that I have less hair. So, I’m having it resized.

I wash and rinse the cups and bowls twenty-seven times and put them away. Today is the third day of the week in the third week of the month, so it’s time to go out and buy a new cowboy hat. I decide to shop at my old standby Cowtown Cowboy Outfitters. I received an email informing me that they received some new hats just last week. And luckily, Zane Western Apparel is only about a quarter of a mile from Cowtown. And that is where my Gambler Hat is being blocked. What a great day this is going to be.

As I head towards Cowtown, I decide that while I’m buying my new hat, I’ll peruse the flea market. And then enjoy barbeque ribs for lunch. I realize that I’m humming my favorite tune. “Whoopie Yippie e. Hurrah.”

I see the sign for Cowtown, and my heart starts beating a little faster, “Yippee Ky O Ky Yea.” I yell at the top of my voice.

I disembark from my 1965 Shelby-Made Mustang. I step back three steps and sidestep five and take a long look at my baby. It’s cherry red and pristine. I love it like I loved my mother. It’s 10:45 am. I take a deep breath and stare at the Cowtown Cowboy. It’s one of my favorite icons of all time.

The cowboy had a lariat in his hand, but people kept trying to swing from it. So, they took off the lariat. I decided to peruse the flea market. I enjoy looking through the now worn and somewhat tattered stalls. Why? You ask. It’s probably just a bunch of Chinese imports. Nothing is made in America anymore. Because it is part of my tradition, and that is reason enough for me.

I pick up a genuine replica of a Colt 45. I’m not a gun enthusiast, but it’s part of the Cowboy tradition. Still, I put it down and kept walking. And then I see in the distance a woman, a goddess, really. She’s wearing full cowgirl tradition. She has on amazing boots and tight blue jeans with a red flannel shirt and a matching red scarf. And the Piece de ’resistance, a creamy white Stetson hat.

I nonchalantly walk toward the table where she is standing. It’s a table covered in bright neck scarves. I casually glance at a sky-blue one and pick it up and feel the texture, and put it in the light to get a better look. She looks over at me and smiles. I look at her, and I notice she has the most astonishing blue eyes. I almost gasp out loud. I smile and say, “that scarf would look great on you. It’s the exact color of your eyes.

She glances at me, takes off the scarf, and says, “thanks, that’s a good choice.” I want to continue the conversation. But as usual, this is where I usually get tongue-tied. I continue, anyway. “Say, I was going to get some bar-b-que ribs for lunch. Would you be interested in joining me?”

“Lunch, sure. I guess that would be nice. I’m getting a little bit hungry.”  We head on over to Dutch Country Barbeque. She stops along the way and looks at tables at the wares. We arrive at the restaurant. A somewhat loud but friendly woman yells out. “Find a seat and sit down, folks. I’ll be right there.”

So, she has a seat, and then I take two steps to the right and two to the left and sit down. She gives me a funny look. I sit down and begin to move the salt and pepper into the right position. And then move the barbeque sauces next to each other. I take out a clean hand wipe and wipe the table down. I get another funny look. I begin to feel that uh-oh feeling. That I get when I notice people think I’m weird. But I don’t know what it is that I’m doing wrong.

“Well, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Robert Leroy Cassidy. But everyone calls me Butch. May I ask your name?”

“My name is Sue Ellen Bassett. I own a small ranch about twenty miles south of here. I raise and train horses for the Rodeo here. Wait a minute, did you tell me your name was Butch Cassidy?”

“Well, yes, is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just you know Butch Cassidy was an outlaw. Are you a descendant or something?”

“No, I had my name legally changed to Butch Cassidy when I was thirty. He was kind of a hero to me growing up.”

“A hero, but was an outlaw?’

“Well, yes, technically, I guess that’s true. He lived by the code of the old west. It was a different time.  People lived by different rules. You know, live by the gun, die by the gun.” I watched her face carefully as I related this information to her.

She starts clearing her throat. It looks like she’s going to make a run for it. “Wait, I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not crazy. I have a thing for the old west and the gunslingers back then. That’s all. I’m not an outlaw. I‘m a retired insurance salesman from Texas. By the way, what’s your name?” I see her face relax a little.

“My name is Etta Thompson. Do you come to Cowtown very often?

“Well, about once a month if I’m picking up a new hat.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. Do you collect hats?”

I smile. I think ok, and she doesn’t seem to think that’s odd. And so, I continue.” Well, yes, I do. I collect cowboy hats. And other kinds of Western paraphernalia. But my main interest is hats.”

“Well. Everyone has hobbies, and collecting hats seems a harmless enough activity. I enjoy collecting brass bells. I have about five hundred. I had more, but I sold some of them on eBay recently because I was running out of room in my house.”

“Oh, how did you start collecting bells?”

“I go to estate sales because I enjoy looking at older homes. I started to collect bells, so I had a reason to keep going to the sales. Basically, I’m curious about how other people live and the things they accumulate over a lifetime. People are fascinating to me.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m drawn to that many people or that I  like to talk to most people. There are very few people that I’m attracted to. I mean to feel a connection “ I feel my face getting red. Can you imagine still blushing when you’re over sixty years old?

“That’s alright, and I know what you mean.”

At that point, the waitress comes over. “So, what can I get you to drink? Do you need the menus, or do you know what you want?”

“Well, I would like a sweet tea and the lunch special barbeque.”

“Me too.”, Butch says and blushes.

After the food arrives, they both dig in and don’t really say anything until they finish eating. Butch feels comfortable with Etta, a rare occurrence. They both sigh, push their plates away and sigh simultaneously. Then they both chuckle at the same time. “That was good, says Etta.”

“Delicious as usual,” says Butch.

“Well, what are your plans for the rest of the afternoon, Butch?”

“First, I’m going to pick up a hat I’m having blocked, and then I’m going to Zane Apparel and purchase a Gambler Hat that I’ve wanted to buy for a long time.’

“That sounds like fun?”

“Would you like to come along?”

“I would love that, but I’m meeting with some guys about a horse they want me to train. I would love to get together again. In fact, I would like to invite you to come over and see my ranch. I’m really proud of it.”

As Butch starts to rise out of his chair, he lays down a twenty-dollar bill and a tip. And he says I would enjoy that very much. Any day in particular?”

“How about on Sunday afternoon, it’s the only day I don’t have a lot of work to do on the ranch, and the weather is supposed to be spectacular. We could take a ride.”

“Take a ride? I don’t really have a great deal of experience riding, But I would love to give it a try.” Butch is secretly amazed at his own words. Not to mention that he didn’t even do the two-step when he arose from the chair or clean the whole table and stack the dishes. A big smile crosses his face.

“Fantastic. Here are my card and cell number. How about around 12:30 pm? I’m a pretty good cook, if I do say so myself. I’ll make something special for us to eat.”

“Wow, I mean great, I look forward to it. I’ve had a great day. I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.”

They walk side by side out the door. Butch has never felt more alive and has a bounce to his step that he didn’t know existed before. As he is about to say goodbye, Eta leans in and kisses him on the cheek. I’ll see you then, Butch; I look forward to it.”

“Me too, Eta. I look forward to it. See you Sunday.”

As he starts walking away, he says, “Hell, maybe I’ll get two new hats.”

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TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

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I met someone so unique and so special. She changed me for the better. And it all began with her smile.

I met her by chance, really. If I had arrived at the park an hour earlier or an hour later, our paths might never have crossed. I recently moved to the area and didn’t know a soul. I had been unemployed for several months. And then finally, finally, I received a call asking if I was still interested in a job I had applied for two months before. 

I barely remember applying for the job. I could paper the walls with all the rejection letters I received for my job applications. Anyway, I think this job has something to do with selling high-risk auto insurance. Not my dream job, of course, but when you’re desperate and need to pay your rent and keep body and soul together, you can’t afford to be that picky.

The interview is scheduled for today at ten o’clock sharp. They told me not to come too early or late because they had interviews scheduled back to back. I decided it would be better to arrive early and wait than to arrive late and miss out on my job interview.

I had to take public transportation to get to the office for the job interview. My car broke down several weeks ago. It turned out that the transmission needed to be replaced. I don’t have the money in hand, nor did I have a credit card that isn’t maxed out.

I took the bus across town that would bring me closest to my destination. As I arrived,i t started to drizzle. I glanced at my watch and realized I was a half-hour early for my appointment. I didn’t bring my umbrella, so I just pulled my jacket hood up over my head.

As I stepped down from the bus, I noticed a park bench that was situated under a large flowering tree and thought it might offer some protection from the rain until it was time for my interview.

I walked across the grass towards the tree, and I noticed there was someone about to sit down on the bench. The rain started coming down harder, and I picked up my pace and ran toward the bench.

I was out of breath by the time I arrived and more than a little damp. I plopped down on the bench and took a deep breath. I kept thinking, why, oh, why do I have such bad luck?

Apparently, I said it out loud without realizing it, and the girl sitting next to me turned toward me and said, “Hello, my name is April. How are you today?”

I was somewhat taken aback by her appearance at first. She had straight brown hair, parted in the middle, with bangs high above her eyebrows. Her eyes looked somewhat unusual. They were tilted up somewhat. At first, I thought she might be Asian. But I couldn’t put my finger on just what made her face so unusual.

I’m not the most socially outgoing person, and ordinarily, I don’t feel comfortable talking to strangers. But there was something about her face, her smile that is so welcoming, so endearing that I couldn’t imagine not answering her. She seems so open, so innocent somehow. Although I can see now as  I‘m looking at her more closely, she isn’t a child at all but a young adult. She has narrow shoulders. Her hands are small, almost like a child’s, and folded in her lap. And I can see that she’s petite, less than five feet tall.

She smiles again, a sweet smile. The smile reaches her eyes. I smile back at her. Her smile is contagious. I can’t remember the last time I smiled. I have been so distracted by my unemployment and lack of funds in the last months.

I have always been told I was reticent. In other words, I’m not the type of person that starts having conversations with people I don’t know. I realize now that’s probably the reason I haven’t made any friends since I moved here.

I say, “hello, April, my name is Jeanie.” At first, I was so shocked by the fact that I’d spoken to her that I laughed out loud. And then she laughs too. Then, we were both laughing at what I didn’t know.

She says, “I have an umbrella.” And she picks up her umbrella that had been resting next to her feet. “Would you like to share it with me?”

“Really? Yes, I really would. I have a job interview across the street in about a half-hour.  I forgot my umbrella, and I really don’t want to go in there soaking wet.”

She smiles again and moves closer to me so I can share her umbrella. I hear her humming under her breath. It sounds like When April Showers Bring May Flowers. I can’t remember all the lyrics, but I find myself humming along with her.

She looks over at me and says, “I hope you get the job.”

“Thank you, I hope I do too. I really need it.:

She says, “I will keep my fingers crossed for you.”

I smile at her again. I can’t remember the last time anyone said that to me. Probably when I was a kid. In fact, there’s something childlike about her. As if she hadn’t been tainted by the thousand negative experiences we all have as we grow from children to adults.

I look over at her, and I can hear her still humming quietly to herself as she looks around the park. I look in the direction she’s staring, and I realize she’s watching three kids about eight or nine years old. They’re swinging on the swings and going up and down the sliding board over and over again. They keep yelling out “yey” every time they slide down the sliding board.

I can see her mouthing “yey” when the girls yell. She seems to be enjoying it almost as much as they do. I watch her in wonder and think, who is this young woman?

After about fifteen minutes of watching the kids, I realize I better be on my way to my interview. I stand up and say,” April, I want to say thank you for sharing your umbrella with me. I enjoyed meeting you so much.”

“Oh, do you have to go?”

“Well, April, I have to go on that job interview I was talking about earlier. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Jeanie. I  know for sure you’ll get that job.”

I headed toward my interview with a lighter heart than I had arrived and sat down on the bench in the park. I walk across the street to the office building through the swinging doors and up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hello, my name is Jeanie Haskell. I have an appointment with Mr. Peabody for a job interview.”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Haskell, I see a note here. It says you are to go straight to his office. His office is number 254. Just take the elevator up to the second floor and make a right and walk down the hall until you see office number 254.”

“Thanks so much. Wish me luck. I’m applying for a job.”

She looks up at me and smiles. Good luck Ms. Haskell. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

I wave at her and smile and walk toward the elevator across the room. As I walk over there, I start thinking, what in the world is going on with me? Wish me luck.

And then I think, well, she was so friendly to me, maybe because I talked to her like she’s a person just like I am. Everyone wants to be treated with respect and kindness. In the past, I rarely talked to people unless I absolutely had to. I was always afraid that they would ignore me or reject me. Maybe I’m the one that has to change how I interact with people I meet.

I arrive on the second floor without any incident. I’ve always been somewhat frightened by elevators. I hate the closed space and the possibility that it might fall and crash, and I’ll be killed. And then I started laughing because even if it fell, it would only go to the first floor or maybe the basement, and I wouldn’t die.

The elevator doors open after the bell rings, and I step out and look from right to left. I see an office marked 254 to my right and walk over to it. I take a deep breath and open the door. I walk over to the receptionist and say, “Good afternoon, my name is Jeanie Haskell. I have an appointment with Mr. Peabody.”

“Yes, we’re expecting you. You’re right on time. Do you have your resume with you?”

“Yes, I have it right here.” And I take it out of my purse and hand it to her.

“Well, Miss Haskell, have a seat it will just be a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” And then I sit down across the room from her desk. I take a deep breath. And I say to myself, so far, so good. At least the waiting room isn’t packed with twenty other people applying for the same job.

About five minutes later, the receptionist called out my name. “Ms. Haskell, Mr. Peabody will see you now.”

I walk up to Mr. Peabody’s door, and as I’m about to open it, I turn around and say, “thank you, Miss Turner.” I noticed her nameplate sitting on her desk.

“Good luck, Ms. Haskell.”
I knock quietly on the door. And I hear a deep male voice call out, “Come right in.”

I take a deep breath and quietly pull the door open. There’s a thirty-something man sitting at his desk, which is piled high with folders. “Good morning. You must be Ms. Haskell, have a seat.”

“So, thank you for coming in today. I see here in your resume that you have some experience that might be beneficial to my business. However, there has been a recent gap in your work history. Would you care to explain that?”

“Well, my mother was sick, and I had to take considerable time off to take care of her. And then I couldn’t find a job. Well, that’s not entirely true, I found quite a few openings, but there was so much competition for the jobs. I had that big employment gap, and that made it more difficult to get hired.”

“Yes, I can see how that would and does happen. Do you feel that you are able to be a reliable employee now? Or do you think you will still be missing work because of your mother’s health issues?”

“No, I don’t. My mother passed away. And that is when I began searching for a job full-time. But I haven’t had any luck. I promise you I will be a reliable and trustworthy employee. I’m a hard worker.”

“Yes, I can see that all your past employers said you had been a highly reliable and diligent worker. Have you ever sold high-risk auto insurance.? I don’t recall seeing that on your resume.”

“No, but I have had jobs with customer service and sales. And I don’t think that selling high-risk auto insurance would be that different from my past work experience.”

“I agree. Are you able to start working immediately, say this coming Monday?”

“Yes, I can start today if you like.”

“No, I think Monday would be just fine. Would you ask Ms. Turner to give you the forms that you will need to fill out before you leave? I look forward to working with you, Ms. Haskell. I’ll see you at 9 am sharp on Monday.”

As I left his office, I sighed with relief. I somehow feel lighter and less weighed down by worry. When I arrived at Ms. Turner’s desk, she said,” Well, Congratulations, Ms. Haskell. “I had a good feeling about you. Here’s the paperwork. You can sit over at that desk and fill out the papers and then bring them back to me.”

“Thank you, Ms. Turner. I’ll take care of that right now.”

After I finished the paperwork, I brought it back to Ms. Turner with a big smile on my face. Thanks so much. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Thank you too. By the way, my name is Kerry. I look forward to it.”

“See you then, Kerry.”

I take the elevator down to the first floor. Honestly, I feel twenty pounds lighter. As I walk across the street, I decide to talk to the young woman sitting on the bench. She waved at me as I came closer to her.

“Hi!” she says with that smile of hers that goes from ear to ear.

“Hello, I just wanted to let you know that I got the job. She smiles again and says, “I was about to eat my lunch. I have two peanut butter sandwiches; would you like one?”

“Well, I didn’t have any breakfast. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I always bring an extra one for a friend, just in case. You can sit here with me and eat it.”

“I would love that, April. I haven’t had lunch with a friend for a long time. Do you eat here often?”

“Well, yes, I do. I come here for about an hour every day until it’s time for me to take the bus home. Here’s your sandwich, and you can share my drink too.”

I take the sandwich gratefully. ” Thanks, April. So tell me about yourself. How far do you live from here?”

I take the 424 bus until I get to my street, and then I get off and walk a block to the second building on the left, number 63 Harrington St.”

“Oh, this sandwich is great. I don’t remember the last time I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I used to eat it all the time when I was a kid. Thanks, April. Maybe we could eat together again sometime. I’ll bring lunch. What do you say?”
“I say, great. I like cheese too, or peanut butter and jelly.”

“Well, how about next Monday at noontime? When do I have my lunch break?”

“Yes, I would like that. It’s good to make a new friend.”

“Yes, yes, it is April, and today was my lucky day when I met you and got a new job. I think you are my lucky charm from now on. I’ll see you then.”

As I walk toward my bus stop, I turn around and wave at April. She’s watching the kids again. I wave at her and smile. I realize she’s the one who put a smile back on my face. I look forward to spending more time with her. I find myself humming When April Showers Bring May flowers and smiling from ear to ear.

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ROSE COLORED GLASSES

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When I was a little girl, about ten years old, my mother often said I had the ability to look at the world through rose-colored glasses. I couldn’t understand why she kept saying this to me since I didn’t even wear glasses. She usually said it while I was regaling my family with a story about something that happened to me while I was outside playing.

My father often says, “Sally, you have quite the imagination, don’t let it run away with you.” And then my sisters laugh and laugh. I was fairly certain that they weren’t laughing because they enjoyed my story. I think they’re making fun of me. It never fails to make me get mad, and I stamp off in the middle of dinner. And then one of my older sisters would say,” there she goes again.” As a result, I rarely finished dinner or ate dessert.

Amulet

And then, one night, I was late getting home for dinner because while I was taking a walk downtown on Main Street. I saw an old woman crossing the street, and just as she was stepping up on the curb, she started to trip. I ran across the street as fast as I could. And I caught her just as she was about to fall on the sidewalk and hit her head. The old lady took one look at me and smiled. When she smiled, her whole face lit up, and her eyes twinkled. “Oh, thank you so much you saved my life. I could have broken my neck. You are a hero.”

I said, “that’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Thank you. But I’m not a hero. I was across the street, and I saw that you were about to trip and fall. So I ran over here to catch you so you wouldn’t get hurt. Anyone would have done the same thing.”

“No, I assure you, not everyone goes out of their way to help people. You have a good heart. And not everyone can say that. I want to give you a little gift. Would you like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. My mother told me that I shouldn’t take anything from strangers.”

“What’s your name, dear?”

“My name is Sally.”

“Well, Sally, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind making this one exception.”

“Really, do you think so?”

“Yes, yes, I do. Close your eyes and hold your breath while you count to sixty.”

And that is exactly what I did. I could feel the old lady putting a chain around my neck. And it had something heavy hanging on it. I couldn’t wait to open my eyes.

“Alright, Sally, open your eyes. I’m giving you a neckless, and there’s an amulet hanging off of it that’s filled with Magic Stardust. You have to wear the necklace all the time for the necklace to work. It will allow you to see the good in people and the good in the world. This amulet only has the power to strengthen whatever is the person’s best quality.

And I can feel that you have a big heart Sally that cares for people. You see the good, and you will grow up to be a kind and decent person. And this amulet will protect your kind and good heart. And it will not let the world change who you are meant to be. The world can do that sometimes, and it can change people from who they are meant to become.”

I look down at my chest, and I see a beautiful silver star. And there’s a glass circle in the middle of the star. It’s twinkling with glimmers of light. I pick it up in my hand and say, “oh, my gosh, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Are you sure I can keep this?”

And when I look up, she isn’t standing there anymore. I look to the right, and the left, and across the street, and I don’t see her anywhere. I look down at my chest, and the necklace is still there. I put the amulet under my shirt. I don’t know how I’m going to tell my family about this. I know they aren’t going to believe me. They never do. I decided that it would be better if I didn’t tell them about the amulet. It will be my little secret.

That night as we are sitting at the dinner table, my oldest sister Kathleen says, “so Sally, what were you up to today?  Did anything interesting happen? Did any of the animals in the neighborhood talk to you? How about the trees? Did they have anything to say for themselves?”

If looks could kill, Kathleen would be lying on the floor at that moment. I said, “no.”

“What, nothing interesting happened? Come on, you can tell us.”

“No,”

“So, are you saying nothing interesting happened, or you aren’t going to tell us what happened?”

“No, I’m never telling any of you anything again.”

My mother says, “are you happy now, Kathleen? You can never let her be, can you? She’s just a child with a big imagination, and that’s all. Stop picking on her. Or I’m going to make you regret it. Last warning, Kathleen.”

“Oh, I was just joking. Sally just can’t take a joke.”

“That’s enough, Kathleen. Why don’t you go up to your room and think about your behavior? I’ve heard enough out of you, and you’re always causing issues at the dinner table. Sally never finishes her dinner. She eats like a bird.”

“Yeah, a vulture.”

“OK, Kathleen, go upstairs. Don’t come down until we’re finished eating, and you can wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. See if you think that’s so funny. I’m finished tolerating your infantile behavior. You’re almost eighteen. You should know better.”

“Jeez, Mom, I was just kidding. Can’t she take a joke?”

“Go upstairs, Kathleen, not another word.”

I can’t believe my mother actually stood up for me. I look over at her, and she has her head down. And doesn’t say a word to me. Kathleen is busy stamping up the stairs to her room. I kind of feel sorry for her.

I don’t say anything during dinner, and after I take my dishes over to the sink, I say, “I’m going upstairs to finish my book.” When I get upstairs, I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror. I pull the pendant out from under my shirt and look at it in the mirror. It’s so beautiful. It looks like the stardust is moving around in the circle in the middle of the pendant. It looks brighter. I know I have to be very careful and not let anyone see it. Plus, I can’t ever take it off. So, it has to be my secret, always.

The next morning when I come down for breakfast, I make toast with peanut butter and jelly and a banana. And then I have a glass of cold milk. I know I shouldn’t drink cold milk in the morning because I always feel sick to my stomach afterward. But I really like milk, especially chocolate milk. I’m about to drink the milk when my sister Kathleen comes into the room. I don’t look at her. I stare down at my milk.

“Sally, I’m sorry I was picking on you last night. I don’t know why I do it. I should know better because Carol and Jean always tortured me because I was the youngest. And I guess when you came along, I thought it was my turn to be able to pick on somebody instead of the one that always got made fun of all the time. But what I should have been doing all this time is treating you with kindness and understanding because I knew how horrible it was to be picked on all the time. I promise I’ll do better.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. No one, I mean absolutely no one, had ever apologized to me when they made me feel bad by making fun of me or calling me stupid. I feel a tear run down my cheek, followed by another and another. That’s when Kathleen came over and gave me a hug. I hug her back. It was the first time any of my sisters were affectionate to me. Then she says let’s start over, OK?”

I nod my head because, by now, I’m crying so hard I can’t talk. Even though this is the happiest moment of my life up until now. I go into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. And then I fold the washcloth and press it over my closed eyes. Because they’re all red from crying. When I take it off, my eyes don’t look any better. But I feel better all the same. I brush my teeth and comb my hair and go downstairs and grab my school bag and lunchbox.

As I‘m heading out the door, I yell, “bye, mom, I’m going to school now. I’ll see you later. I hear my mother say, “wait a minute, Sally I have something for you. And then she comes to the front door and says, “I made a special snack for you, Peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips in them. I know how much you love them.”

I smile at my mother and open my lunch box so she can put the cookies in there. She places them carefully into my Peter Pan lunch box. And then she says,” I want to give you a big hug and kiss. So, you know how much I love you, Sally. You’re such a kind little girl. I’m proud of you.”

And that is when my eyes start watering again. I wipe away the tears and say, “I love you too, Mommy.”  As I walk down the street towards the school, I stop for a moment and put my school bag down. And I take the amulet from under my shirt and stare at it. It is twinkling again. I don’t know if the amulet holds special powers. But I do know that something magical has happened to me. But just in case, I’m going to keep wearing this amulet for the rest of my life.

And I know that if you don’t believe, the magic will never happen. And I look up at the sky, but I can’t see the stars because of the bright sunshine. And then I hold my amulet again, and I give it a little squeeze, and I feel it getting warm, and my hand starts tingling a little. I put it back under my shirt. And then I continue on to school.

All of a sudden, I hear someone yelling, “Hey, Sally, wait up. I want to talk to you. I turn around, and it’s none other than Beth O’Hearn. I slowed down, and Beth caught up with me and says “Hey, thanks for waiting for me. “Hi Sally, I was thinking about you this morning, and I was wondering if you would like to join the writing club. I always hear you telling people interesting stories. And so, I thought you would be perfect. What do you think? The name of the club is Dream Weavers.

“Really? I would love to join the club.”

“That’s great, Sally. Our next meeting is tomorrow after school in the back of the school library”

“That’s great. I’ll be there.”

This was turning out to be the best day of my life. I put my hand to my chest and could feel the amulet. And I walk through the school doors with a smile on my face for the first time in my life. As I’m walking down the hallway, I see two boys shoving someone back and forth in the hallway. They are calling her a name and laughing at her. I run up to where they’re at. And I see the girl they are shoving around is Elizabeth Hess.

“Hey, leave her alone I scream at the top of my lungs.” Mind your own business, Sally. What do you care about, Burned Betty?’ That is when I punch Charlie right in the stomach as hard as I can. Don’t you dare call her that? You’re nothing but a bully. You’re a horrible person. You better leave, or I’m going to go up to the principal’s office and tell them what you two were doing.”

Charlie said, “whatever.” But then the two of them took off. Elizabeth has been in my class since first grade. In the third grade, Elizabeth’s house caught on fire, and she was burned all over including her face. She has angry red scars. Everyone either makes fun of her or tortures her. Elizabeth has been made fun of or ignored for so long she doesn’t even cry anymore. She didn’t say anything to me. She just stood there. “Elizabeth, I was thinking that we have an empty seat at my lunch table now that Douglas Badger moved away. How would you like to sit with us?  She stared at me for a minute, and then and then she nodded without saying a word. I take her hand and say,” Come on, let’s go put our stuff in the classroom, and then we can go outside in the play yard until the bell rings. What do you say?”

She nodded her head again and quietly said, “Yes.”

As we walk down the hallway towards the classroom, I think about Elizabeth, and I wonder why I haven’t made friends with her before. I feel bad because I know what it feels like when people make fun of you and call you names. And you feel powerless to stop them. You start thinking you deserve it or something. But I know that isn’t true. Nobody deserves to be made fun of or ignored because of the way they look, where they live, or anything else. I think I might have been afraid to make friends with her because I thought people might start making fun of me too.

We put our stuff in the classroom, and then I say, “come on, let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” She stands there. “Come on, and you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I take her hand and start walking toward the door, and then we walk down the hall and out the door to the play yard. “I promise it will be alright, Elizabeth.”  I walk over to a group of my friends, and Elizabeth stands next to me. “Hi, everyone. Elizabeth is going to join us, isn’t that great? Everyone looks at me and then at Elizabeth. They all say, “yeah, that’s great. Hi, Elizabeth. I look at her, and she has the beginnings of a smile on her face.

I let go of Elizabeth’s hand and smiled at her. “Hey, guess what? Beth asked me to join the writing club. The first meeting is tomorrow after school in the library.”

My friend Helen looks at me and says, Lucky. You are really good at telling stories, Sally. That sounds fun. I wish I had your imagination. Elizabeth suddenly says, “ I like to write stories about animals. We have lots of pets. We have three dogs, four cats, and a parrot that can talk.”

“You do? Says Helen. The parrot can really talk like a person?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth says. He can say a lot of stuff. He repeats anything someone says near him.”

“Wow, Elizabeth, that is cool. I would love to meet him.”

“You would? Well, you can come to my house after school and meet him anytime.”

And then all the girls start saying,” Me too, me too.”

I looked over at Elizabeth, and her face was transformed by the big smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes. I had never noticed what beautiful green eyes she had before. “How about on Friday after school Elizabeth? Do you think that would be alright with your mom?”

“Yes, but just in case, I’ll ask her today after school.”

Just then, the bell rings, and it’s time for us to go in. Everyone was laughing at Peter because he was making weird faces for some reason. And then we all filed into the building. As I was walking through the door, I put my hand over my chest, and I could feel how warm the amulet was getting. I felt so happy for Elizabeth making friends with everyone. And you know what? You can never have enough friends. I knew today was going to be the beginning of a whole new chapter of my life.

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Millie’s Bench

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Millie anxiously pushes her cart toward the park. The gates will be opening in a few minutes. She’s always afraid someone will claim her bench before she gets there.  No one ever has. She’s been coming to Fairmount Park for many years. She thinks of it as her home.

Well, if the truth is told, she doesn’t have a home anymore. She has been homeless since she lost her mother, her job, and her childhood home. She did live in her car for over a year until it stopped working. Millie parked it on the street, and after a month, it was towed away. It’s hard to believe, but that was over thirty years ago.

But Millie survives. It’s difficult not to sleep in the same place for more than a few days. She knows her way around the city. She knows every nook and cranny. She knows where it’s safe and where the police will leave you alone as long as you don’t cause any trouble, as long as you don’t act too crazy or smell too bad.

It’s impossible to stay clean when you live on the street. Few places have open bathrooms during the day. She would go in when it wasn’t too busy. And clean her face and all the places people can see and some of the ones they can’t. But would start smelling after a while.

Several times a year, she would go to one of the shelters for a couple of days just so she could take a shower, wash her hair and sleep in a clean bed. The shelters aren’t safe. People will steal the fillings out of your teeth if you aren’t careful. You can’t trust anyone, especially the ones who act like they’re your friends.

She tries not to call attention to herself in any way. She tries her best to be invisible. Millie gets a small check from the government. It’s delivered to a postal box. There’s a guy she knows who will cash the checks for a small fee. She’s cautious with her money and never wastes anything.

She knows where to get free food when she runs out of food stamps. Sometimes it’s a soup kitchen. Millie knows when the restaurants put leftovers in the dumpsters. It’s a crime how much food is wasted.

She keeps all her worldly belongings in her cart. She never goes anywhere without it. She brings the memories of her past with her wherever she goes. In that cart are the remnants of the life and person she used to be before she became invisible.

Oh, the gates are opening. Millie nods her head at the guard and heads toward her bench. Good, no one is there. Millie spends her day here, from first thing in the morning until they lock the gates at night.

This is her life now. She imagines nothing, nothing beyond sitting on this bench every day for the rest of her life. One day someone will find her still body. But Millie’s soul will have finally soared away, or perhaps just slipped away into oblivion. Who knows, Millie doesn’t.

She moves her cart next to the bench and looks at her belongings and sighs. But then she sits down, takes a deep breath, and looks all around. She feels blessed, that’s right blessed, lucky to spend all her waking hours here in this beautiful and serene place.

Spring is her favorite time in the park, breathing in the fragrance of the flowering trees and the Lilac bushes. The perfume wafts through the air, surrounding her, and lifting her spirit with it.

She watches young mothers with their babies and toddlers running around the fountain. She watches the children grow up and become adults bringing their babies to the park. It’s in this way she still feels connected to the life that goes on around her. Although she doesn’t participate in the pageantry of life, she observes it and remembers it.

She feels as if she plays the most essential part of all. She is the witness to everything beautiful and everything that isn’t. She’s a historian that stands outside and looks in on everything that goes on and makes a note of it.

Where would the world be without the keepers of the history of the world? Why it would be forgotten, unnoticed. It gives her life meaning and purpose, and value. Yes, she is invisible to those around her, but she is essential, just as the air is invisible, but nothing would survive without it.

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ALL I EVER DREAMED OF IS A GOOD NIGHT’S REST

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The alarm clock rang incessantly, and its annoying screams eventually awakened me. I’m a heavy sleeper because each night before I go to bed, I drink a glass of wine. It never fails to put me to sleep. Unfortunately, it hasn’t put an end to my nightmares. In fact, they are even more vivid than the nightmares I suffered from when I was a child. The only difference is now I can remember the dreams after I wake up. And when I was a child, my dreams would be forgotten once I woke up each morning.

My dreams are often vivid and filled with events that wake me up, sometimes screaming out loud in terror. When I woke up, I could not remember what the nightmare was about. And I thank god for that because if I remembered any of my dreams, no amount of alcohol before I went to bed would be able to lull me to sleep ever again.

Tired woman in the office sleeping

 

My nightmares have been haunting me all of my life as far back as I remember. When I was a child, my mother took me to the pediatrician and explained how these nightmares would wake me up every night and wake up everyone who lived in our house. He told my mother that I had night terrors, which were a common occurrence with young children whose brains were still developing. And over time, the nightmares would cease. But mine never did. It is an everyday occurrence for me.

I never tell people I know I suffer from nightmares because I’m a grown woman. And I’m sure they would tell me that I’m not a child anymore and shouldn’t be having these nightmares anymore. As a result, during the day, I often have vivid flashbacks from my most recent nightmares without any warning.

Occasionally the flashback is so vivid that I will shout out with fear or run screaming out of whatever room. This has happened so often at my workplace that my coworkers started complaining to our boss that I was disrupting their concentration. I was called into his office because of these complaints. I explained the problem to my boss. I told him that I was unaware of my behavior when it was occurring since I was asleep. And the night terror only lasts a minute or two. And there was no treatment for it. I informed him I had been to a sleep specialist, psychologist, and psychiatrist. They all said there was no real cure. That they could put me on heavy-duty sleep aides. But the side effect was that in the morning, when I woke up, I had a hangover from the medication for several hours and had difficulty concentrating. I have lost several jobs because of this problem.

Most recently, my boss said that he could only think of two solutions. The first was letting me go, which he didn’t want to do because, aside from these sleep episodes, I was a valuable employee. So, his only recourse was for me to work at home. And then to come into my office once a week and play catch-up with my boss. And he thought that was the best solution for me and my fellow employees.

My response was to stare blankly at my boss. I really didn’t want to spend my whole work life at home working at my desk in my bedroom. I was sure this would lead me to develop even more problems, including loneliness, and becoming even more inhibited and neurotic than I already was.

My boss waited several moments, and then he said, “so Amelia, what do you think? Work from home sound good?”

“Well, I don’t know. But I guess I will have to give it a go. I will miss seeing all my workmates. But I guess I don’t really have any other choice. When will this change in venue happen?”

“Well, there is no time like the present. Why don’t you go in and start packing up your desk? Please take your work computer and anything else you need home with you. And let’s say that after you get settled in your new home office, you contact personnel and let them know how things are going. And if you need anything else. Let’s try this for the next month, and then you can let us know how you are doing. And we will see if we have to make any further adjustments.

And then he stood up and walked me to the door, and said, “please keep in touch. Let me know if you encounter any problem that we haven’t foreseen. And let me know, and we will put our brains together and devise a solution. Talk to you soon, Amelia. Sorry, but I have to go right now. There is a big meeting that I’m about to be late for if I don’t get moving immediately.”

And that was the beginning of the end for me. Of course, it didn’t happen right away. It happened slowly over time. In fact, it happened so painfully slowly that I didn’t realize what was happening. I slowly began to unravel.

After about a week of working alone at my desk in my bedroom, I began to lose time. And by that, I mean while I was working on my computer, I would drift slowly into a deep sleep. But, somehow, during these short naps, I kept working away. But, when I woke up, I had no memory of the work I had done. None at all. I would look down at my computer and not recollect completing the work. I would then spend the rest of the day going over all the work to see if it was complete bologna or acceptable.

And to my surprise, the work I completed at home was perfection. Even better than the work I did when I worked in the office. I was doing so well, in fact, that I decided that each afternoon I would take a break and go for a walk, go out to lunch, or do some shopping so that I could reconnect with my fellow human and not turn into some hermit.

But to my utter surprise, the first time I went out for lunch to one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, the owner came over to my booth and said, “oh, what a wonderful surprise. It’s such a pleasure to see you so soon again.”

I stared at him and said, “so soon again, Jose?” I don’t even remember the last time I was here. Maybe you are mixing me up with one of your other customers?”

“Mixing you up? No, for the past three weeks, you have come here every Monday and Thursday for lunch, and now here you are on Wednesday.”

“What? Well, I must be overtired or something. I don’t really recall that at all. I recently started working from home and haven’t been going out. And I started feeling claustrophobic from being alone all day and all night.”

Jose stared at me with a perplexed look on his face. And then he said, “wait a minute, I can prove it. I’ll show you a picture of you and several other customers when you pulled all your tables together and ate lunch. And then you all started dancing after eating. You have to remember that, Amelia?”

I sat there looking at him like he had lost his mind. And then he returned with a large picture of a group of people laughing and dancing in the middle of the room with all the tables pushed against the wall. And then Jose’ pointed his finger at a woman wearing a bright skirt and a flowered shirt and a sombrero on her head. I picked up the picture and put it as close to her eyes as possible and still distinguish the people. And sure enough, there was a woman that bore an unbelievable resemblance to herself. “Well, I’ll admit she does look like me. But it can’t be. It just can’t. I don’t remember that at all.”

Jose’ said, wait a minute, I’ll bring over the staff, and they can reassure you.”

“What, on no, don’t do that. But, before I even finished his sentence, Jose called all the staff into the dining area. And they all reassured her that she had indeed been coming there often, and on that particular night, she had been the life of the party.

“I guess I will have to believe you. But, I don’t really understand why I don’t have any memory of any of this at all.” Jose came over and said, “ well, I hope you will keep coming as often as possible because we will all miss you if you don’t. And he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

My face blushed all the way up to the roots of my hair. And then, I sat back in her chair and waited for my lunch to be brought out. By now, her stomach was growling and churning. A few minutes later, Jose’ brought her lunch to her table and said, “enjoy. Please let me know if you would like anything else. How about some Sangria?”

“I would love that, but I think I am confused enough as it is. Maybe next time. It all looked delicious as I sat there eating a burrito. It occurred to me that perhaps the reason I didn’t remember coming here was that I had been sleepwalking. It seemed far-fetched. But what else would explain not having a memory when of the events? When it was clear that I had been coming there. The only other possibility was that I had completely lost my mind. And at this point in time, she had no desire to believe she was bonkers. Perhaps I should go back into therapy?

As I swallowed the last delicious bite of my meal. I had decided that whatever was happening was out of my control. And I would continue on with my life and see what happened. It was clear that part of me wanted to be happy and so why shouldn’t I ?

And so that is how I began living my life to the fullest, and although I don’t remember all of it, at some level, I was having the time of my life. And I was going to go for it.

One morning I woke up and felt like I might be hungover, although I didn’t remember what had happened to me the night before. At least, I thought it was one night. But when I rolled over, I realized I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t in her bed. “Good grief, I said out loud.” I leaned over and looked at the man lying beside me. I couldn’t imagine who it was. I was afraid to know, and then I saw Jose’s handsome face and mustache. “Wake up, wake up, Jose.”

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A DREAM COME TRUE

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When I retired from work at sixty-two, I thought now I could finally relax and enjoy the good life. I will spend all my time reading, painting, writing, and all of my other hobbies. That had I put off all of my working years.

But it didn’t take long before I realized that although I was retired from working forty hours a week, I still had to take care of cleaning and maintaining my home and my garden. I still had to pay the bills. I still had to go food shopping etc, etc, etc.

But what I did make time for was going to estate sales and yard sales. Because I decided that Saturday was going to be my day off. I’m not sure why I loved this activity so much, but I did. Perhaps because it always felt like it was a treasure hunt. And I came to look forward to Saturday mornings with great anticipation. Oh, the thrill of the hunt. 

And so, every Friday morning, I would take a walk down to the local store and buy the newspaper and read the garage sale ads in the classified section of the newspaper. And then, I would write a list of all the local estate and yard sales and their locations and write the directions down so I could drive from one sale to the next.

One of the interesting things that I found out after a short period of time was that there were so many like-minded people going to estate sales, especially in the well-to-do locations. Because there was always a possibility that I might find a real treasure that I recognized their true value and others wouldn’t.

Most estate sale buyers had particular items that they collected. Anything was possible, and they might collect comic books or cookbooks, jewelry, antiques or cameras, and teapots. Really there was no end to the objects that people collected.

Oh, and there was always excitement in the air as the shoppers waited in line outside as the time got closer to open the doors to the public. Most often, there was a limit to how many people could enter the house at any given time. If the house was located in an exclusive high-end home, people really became impatient waiting outside for their chance to enter the home. God forbid anyone cut into line the crowd because they could really get rowdy. You were always afraid that someone would find that perfect treasure. The one you have been hunting for all along.

I looked for anything that was out of the ordinary or unusual. Anything from a chandelier to original art. As people slowly entered the house, the first few people who went in would emerge. Sometimes they would have a triumphant look on their faces or sometimes disappointed. But, you always held out hope that you would finally get that one special object that would complete your collection, no matter what you collected. Or even better, something that was worth a great deal of money, and you could sell it and make a profit.

Then finally, I was number one in line outside the front door. The house was a big, old Victorian home. I just loved the Victorian houses. They were so interesting, and they were all unique. People walked around examining each item that was for sale. It was a treasure hunt for us all.

I had been searching for a Victorian chandelier for my dining room for quite a while. And the moment I entered the living room and I saw the double doors that led to the formal dining room, I saw it. And it was the most beautiful crystal chandelier hanging from the dining room ceiling. And it was perfect. I looked for one of the people running the sale. As I wanted to buy the chandelier before anyone else did. I saw someone in the dining room looking up at the chandelier and checking out the price, and then they whistled and walked away.

I hurried through the double doors to the dining room. The dining room table and chairs were definitely original and almost in perfect condition. On the center of the table, there was a circular burn. It looked like someone had placed a hot dish or container directly on the table. I was standing there shaking my head when I heard someone say, “oh, what a shame. I wonder if it would be possible to have that burn repaired?” I said, “I don’t know, but I would definitely offer a lower price than their asking for it. And then possibly you could have it repaired. It really is a beautiful table, and the chairs look like they have the original seat covers. And they are in excellent shape.” 

“Yes, yes, they do. I love them. I think I might make an offer and see what happens. Good luck. I hope you find something you love as well.”

“Thank you, and I see quite a few things that I would love to get. But my budget is limited. Good luck, I hope you are able to buy the dining room set.”

I saw a woman that looked like she was in charge of the sale, and I walked over to her. “Hello, I’m interested in the crystal chandelier. “Can I make an offer on it?”

“Yes, of course. But you will have to wait until the end of the day to see if your offer has been accepted. If someone makes a higher offer. You could lose it. That would be a shame, and it is a one-of-a-kind chandelier. It is original to the house.”

“Really, well, I definitely will make an offer.”

“Well, there is a woman in the office through that door. She will take your contact information and cell phone number and let you know the outcome. Good luck.”

So, I went through the door. I walked over to the woman at the desk and told her I wanted to make an offer on the crystal chandelier. She handed me a paper, and I wrote down my offer and my cellphone number. She said, “It is a beautiful piece, good luck. There are two more floors. Maybe you’ll find something else that you like.”

I nodded and headed toward the kitchen. There was a small pantry with a table and chair. I was starting to fall in love with this house. It certainly was unique. I wondered how much they were asking for it. And if there was any way I could win the lottery and buy this home.

I walked back to the front door and headed up the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the steps, there was a long hallway with three opened doors. Wow, this house was amazing. The first door opened to a small bedroom that was illuminated by the morning sun. Unfortunately, it had horrible wallpaper throughout the whole room. Aside from that, it was empty. But, I was able to see the possibilities of the room. There was a large closet in the room. And the floor throughout the house had the original wood floors. And I believed that with hard work, they could be restored.

I walked down to the next door and I pushed it open it was the biggest bathroom I had ever seen, but unfortunately, one of my fellow shoppers was sitting on the toilet and going to the bathroom. Before I backed out of the room, I noticed a beautiful tub and shower. The room was black and white with even more hideous wallpaper on the walls. I said, “good lord, who picked out all the hideous wallpaper.?”It looked like it was from the turn of the nineteenth century.

At the end of the hallway, there stood a set of black, wrought iron gates that reached from the floor to the ceiling. I couldn’t imagine what might be behind them. At one end of the hallway to the right a closet that had a door on it and a window. It was empty save for an iron radiator. I gazed out the window and saw a side garden with huge overgrown evergreens and what looked like a balcony on the facing wall.

I left the closet and returned to the hallway and the next closed door. I heard people milling about behind the door. I walked through the entrance, and there was yet another bedroom. It was large and empty. There were about ten people looking around and peeping into the large, empty closet. I couldn’t understand why they were holding an estate sale since there didn’t seem to be anything for sale. And it occurred to me at that moment that they were trying to sell this huge, empty house. As I walked across the room, there was a set of double doors and a balcony. The doors were locked. But I could see the backyard from the balcony. There was a large garage beyond the small backyard.

I saw another door in the bedroom, and it led to a small bathroom. This house certainly had no shortage of doors, rooms, and bathrooms. It was the largest house I had ever been in. And that’s saying a lot because I had gone to a hundred estate sales over the years. All the people who had been standing in line outside were now in the house. And it didn’t seem crowded at all. That’s how big this house was.

There was a wooden door to the right I opened the door, and at least fifty people stood inside the room. It was absolutely the largest room I had ever seen in my life. There was a huge black chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. And there was a fireplace on the back wall. The walls appeared to have a surface that looked like spackled cement or something similar to that. The window on the far wall was unbelievably big, and the rest of the wall was covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I felt small in this room. The view outside the huge window was blocked by two tall trees. But I could see the neighbor’s house across the street.

I walked to the middle of the room and stood there simply amazed by the sheer size of the room and the number of people milling about. Who all had the same amazed look on their faces as I did. I decided to walk back down the hall and go up to what I believed was a door to the third floor. And it turned out that there was indeed a third floor that ran the length of the house. And above that was an attic. I couldn’t believe how huge this house was. I wondered who lived here before and what they did with all the rooms.

And the longer I stood in the middle of this room, the more I realized that this house, this magnificent house, was going to be my house; somehow, some way, I was going to make it happen. And as I stood there and imagined living here, I imagined all the beautiful and unusual artifacts I would be able to find at estate sales and all the fun I would have finding them. And that, my friends, is how I came to find and buy the home of my dreams.

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TO SLEEP OR NOT TO SLEEP THAT IS THE QUESTION

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For as long as I can remember, I have suffered from insomnia. Please don’t suggest that having insomnia is not suffering. I can assure you that not getting adequate sleep over long periods of time is exquisitely painful.

WOMAN WITH INSOMNIA

WOMAN WITH INSOMNIA

I do not recall a time when I didn’t have difficulty sleeping. My mother often complained that I would almost nightly come into her bedroom when I was a child and tell her I couldn’t sleep. I would beg to sleep with my parents. They always said, “no, go back to your own bed. And as a result, I would lie awake for the rest of the night with her eyes wide open and unable to fall asleep. I would finally drift off to sleep in the middle of the night. My mother said, “after you wake me up, I’m would unable to fall asleep for hours. And she would get up at six AM clutching her rosary in her hands.

Over the course of my lifetime, my insomnia did not resolve. It evolved. There were times when I would fall asleep but wake up after an hour or two and then be unable to fall back to sleep. I tried reading, praying, and staring out the window into the dark of the night. I would listen to cats fighting, or dogs barking or listen to my next-door neighbors’ knock-down brawls. I often wondered why they didn’t get a divorce. And even though I was a child, I knew it couldn’t be healthy to remain in a marriage where you hated your mate and your children grew up in a home full of anger and resentment.

As I grew into adulthood and moved out of my parent’s house and into my own apartment. Insomnia remained my companion. Although it was an unwelcome companion. Over the years, I tried various sleeping aids in my search for six hours of an uninterrupted night’s sleep. And then, finally, I found Ambien. A new medication that promised six to eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. It was a dream come true.

It wasn’t until several months of taking Ambien that I realized there were some unexpected side effects from taking it. And I, unfortunately, suffered the consequences of every one of these side effects. The first side effect I became aware of was that, over several months, I started putting on weight. I was always self-conscious about my weight and being fit. As I exercised every single day. I was extremely careful about what I ate, especially sweets and carbs. I stopped eating animal protein and became a vegetarian.

And so, when I began noticing that my clothes were starting to feel tight. I couldn’t understand why or how this was happening. I decided to get an appointment with my doctor to see if I had developed a thyroid problem. But I found out I didn’t have a hypothyroid problem. The doctor stated that he couldn’t find any organic or biological reason for my weight gain. And he insisted that I must be eating more or eating high-calorie foods and that I wasn’t getting enough exercise. I told him that was certainly not the case since I hadn’t changed my diet or exercise routine in the least.

And finally, I made an appointment with a psychologist to determine if there was a psychological reason why I couldn’t sleep. The doctor felt that one of the reasons I had sleeping problems was that I had depression because of unresolved childhood issues. After several months of talk therapy, the therapist suggested that I set up video cameras in my bedroom and my house and find out what I was doing at night to cause the weight gain.

In addition, as I was leaving his office, he mentioned in passing that some early research indicated that Ambien could cause sleepwalking, sleep eating, and even more, terrifying sleep driving. Why, why, why do doctors wait until you are walking out the door to tell you the most pertinent facts about your health? He told me I should consider going off them.

I just couldn’t bring myself to stop taking Ambien because after I started using them, I was able to fall asleep within fifteen minutes of taking one and sleep throughout the night with no hangover like previous sleeping pills I had taken. I said, “alright, Doctor, I’ll give that suggestion some thought. But I will definitely get the video camera’s set up and see if I am sleepwalking at night. I’ll keep in touch. Thank you for your time.”

So, two days later, I had a guy come to my home and install the video cameras around my home. And he put one in my car. They were all sensitive to movement and would turn on automatically. He told me to wait a few days before checking the cameras. So, I waited and waited, and five days later, I checked all the cameras.

I thought I would find videos of me raiding the kitchen. But no, that isn’t what I saw. What I saw was me wearing my pajamas and slippers and my winter chenille robe. And unbelievably, I was going out the door of my apartment and heading in the direction of the apartment parking garage. And then, I saw myself getting into my car and driving to several fast food restaurants, including McDonald’s, Taco Bell, Domino’s Pizza, and the local all-night family restaurant.

I could hardly believe my eyes. The kind of food I was eating and the amount of food I was eating were unbelievable. I was eating junk food for hours every night, and all the while, I was asleep. Although my eyes were open, I was ordering the food and paying for it and then either gobbling it down while I was driving to the next fast food place or sitting in my car all alone, stuffing my face with one disgusting thing after another.

My final stop was always the all-night family restaurant, where I apparently ate a full breakfast of bacon, eggs, scrapple, and buckets of hot coffee. No wonder I was getting as round as a beach ball. I’m surprised I haven’t had a heart attack yet. Just from the sheer amount of fried foods and calories.

And the fact that I was eating meat made me sick to my stomach and sick at heart. I love animals and gave up eating meat twenty years ago. How could I be doing this? It was so hard to believe. But, obviously true.

And then I considered the obvious I was driving all over town asleep. I could have killed myself or other innocent people. It was worse than driving drunk. It was altogether a nightmare. And the irony of it all was hard to swallow. I was finally sleeping after all these years. But, I did not feel rejuvenated or refreshed, or healthier. I was fat and apparently addicted to Ambien and junk food.

It was clear to me that I needed to go back to the shrink and find out why my subconscious was driving me to undermine my health and my well-being. And making me a danger to myself and all the other people on the road, and highways, and byways where I lived.

After waiting three weeks to get another appointment with my shrink. I had accomplished several important things. I weaned myself off of Ambien. I won’t lie. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I got rid of all the junk foods. I started exercising twice a day, once before I went to bed and first thing in the morning.

I lost about ten pounds in those few weeks before I saw my shrink’s appointment. I felt better because I wasn’t gaining any more weight. And the exercise, including walking five miles a day and working, made me so tired and often fell immediately fell asleep and stayed asleep for six hours. Which was a big improvement for me.

And the talk therapy with my shrink helped me to start resolving the reasons for my ongoing depression and unresolved problems with my family and some of my friends. I found out it was better to talk about problems with my family and friends instead of stuffing it all down with food. After six months, I lost thirty pounds with ten more to go. I feel like a new woman, and that has helped me to stop being so self-critical. My family and I are communicating with one another, and I don’t feel so fueled with anger all the time.

So, I still do have the occasional sleepless night. But, I stay away from Ambien and instead consider what kind of emotional issues I am having at any given time. And I talk with my therapist, and she helps me see what is in plain view. And that I have to make an effort to solve these issues instead of feeding them or obsessing about them all day and into the night. So, with that, I’ll say good day, and I hope you have a good night’s sleep.

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YOU CAN’T ALWAYS TELL A BOOK BY IT’S COVER

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It was 1975, and I had recently graduated from the Palm Beach Beauty Academy in West Palm Beach, Florida. I was looking for a job in one of the local hairdressers and was having difficulty getting hired because of the recent influx of newly graduated from beauty school. I had been living in Florida for just over a year and had not found employment. Apparently, if you weren’t a Floridian resident for a least six months, it was difficult to get hired.

Mansion on Palm Beach Blvd. Florida

Mansion of Palm Beach Blvd. Florida

So, I made the decision to go to a hairdressing school. I’m not entirely sure what made me think that I would be a candidate for hairdressing school since I had no previous experience styling or cutting hair. But all the same, I decided to give it a go.

I decided that it might help if I became acquainted with some of the local residents who might want to hire me or knew someone who was looking for newly licensed hairdressers. One day I was reading through the local newspaper and saw an ad for a family who was looking for someone to spend time with their two sons, who were about ten and twelve years old at that time. I thought, what a great job. I loved kids and had previous experiences with my seventeen nieces and nephews when they were young.

So, the next morning I called the phone number of the Palm Beach family and made an appointment to be interviewed for the job. The woman who answered the phone told me to come over the following morning at ten AM shart, and she gave me directions to their home. She told me it was on Palm Beach Blvd. Directly across from the ocean. I was psyched. Because this was one of the most beautiful and affluent neighborhoods in Palm Beach.

When I arrived at the address I was given, I was shocked. This was not just a big house. It was an absolute mansion. As I was parking across the street, I noticed a limousine pulling into their driveway and disappearing from view behind the house. I locked the car door, and as I was walking across the street, it occurred to me that no one was going to steal my ten-year-old Volkswagon when there were BMWs and Mercedes, and Lamborghinis parked along the sidewalk next to the entrance to the beach. But I loved my car and wasn’t taking any chances.

I walked up the front sidewalk and knocked at the front door. I used the door knocker that looked like it was made out of solid gold. And as I waited, I glanced around the front yard and couldn’t help but admire their front garden, which had absolutely stunning landscaping. The flowers, the palm trees, banana trees. It was a tropical paradise.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and a woman who looked about sixty said, “Yes, can I help you? Do you have an appointment with Madam?”

“An appointment? Yes, I do. I am here to be interviewed by the homeowner as a nanny for her two sons.”

“And you are?”

“Oh, yes, of course, my name is Sarah Carlisle. I spoke to her yesterday. And she told me to come here a three PM sharp. So, here I am.”

“I shall advise Madam that you are here. You may come in and wait in the vestibule. Please wipe your feet on the mat before you come in.”

“The vestibule?” I’m not sure where that is. Can you point the way?”

“What? The vestibule is the entryway of the house. Follow me and wait, and I shall advise Madam that you have arrived, and then I will come and escort you to Madam’s office. Please do not touch anything. It is all priceless antiques.”

“Touch anything, and I wasn’t going to touch anything. Good grief. I’ll just stand here until you come back for me. No worries. I’m trustworthy.”

A couple of minutes later, she returned and said, “Madam will see you now. Just follow me.”

So, I followed her, and I was overwhelmed by everything in my view. In the entryway stood a lifesize sculpture of a naked man and woman embracing. And I was so shocked I said, good lord, loudly,” I had never seen any sculptures outside of a museum. The hallway was tiled in the most gorgeous pattern I’d ever seen.

And then I found myself standing outside of two huge doors that were exquisitely carved with vines growing from the bottom of the panels to the top with gorgeous flowers that, if they had not been carved from wood, I would believe were real. The woman knocked at the door on the right and said something I couldn’t hear to the occupant inside the room. And then she looked to me and said, “you may enter now.” She turned sharply on her heels and walked away. And I thought I hope I don’t have to talk to her again.

I took a deep breath and turned the golden door nob, and waited until I heard someone say, “come in, come in.” somewhat impatiently. I pushed the door wide enough for me to go forward, and there sat a petite woman with short, dark hair and glasses. I wondered who she was and if she was the owner of the house or another snooty employee.

“Oh, I’m so happy you were able to come for an interview, dear. I just know you will love working here and taking care of my two boys. Their last nanny had to leave unexpectedly, and they were really heartbroken. They had become quite attached to her. So, please tell me about yourself and what kind of experience you have with children.”

I decided I wasn’t going to tell her that I had just graduated from hairdressing school since she wouldn’t find that very helpful to have a nanny who cut hair. So, I just said, “well, I recently moved to Florida from the North East, to be more specific, New Jersey. And I have been looking for a job, so far I was hired by a company selling high-risk insurance, and they were having problems of some sort and went out of business. So, I decided to try and get a job working with children since I really love kids.”
“Oh, do you have any children, or did you take care of children in the past?”

“Have children? No, but I do have seventeen nieces and nephews who I started babysitting when I was about eleven. And I just love kids. “

“You started babysitting when you were eleven. I can’t imagine that. Didn’t your mother think you were too young?”

“Well, if she did, she never told me.”

“When can you start? I need someone starting on Monday. I’m going to be doing some out-of-town work, and my former nanny’s mother became ill, and she quit without giving me any notice. The boys were devastated because she had been taking care of them since they were babies. My husband and I have to do a great deal of traveling because of our business.”

I can start tomorrow. But I would like to meet your children before that so that they won’t be upset about a stranger taking care of them. Are they available to meet me now?”

“Yes, let me buz the housekeeper and ask her to bring them down. Or perhaps it would be better if she took you upstairs to their rooms to meet them in their own territory?”

A few minutes later, a tall, thin woman with bright red hair came into the room and said, “you rang?”

“Yes, this young lady is going to start tomorrow as the boys’ new nanny. Would you please take her upstairs and introduce her to the boys? I can’t leave the office right now as I’m expecting a call from a client.”

“Follow me, dear. It’s just up the stairs and down the hall.”, She started up the winding staircase to the second level.  At the top of the stairs was an immense picture window, and I could see the entire property from it. It was a true garden of Eden, complete with Palm Trees and coconuts. And a built-in pool that looked large enough for fifty people to swim in with room to spare. I tried not to gasp.

I followed her down a long, long hallway with tropical plants every few feet, including some tropical hibiscus with flowers as big as my head. The floor looked like handmade tile with the family crest on it. It was so shiny it looked like glass, and I could see my reflection in it. “Here we are, dear. Let me introduce you, and you can get acquainted with them. They really are lovely boys, and I hope you will stay with us for a long time. They were heartbroken when Zelda, the former nanny, left. She had been taking care of them since they were babies. They still haven’t gotten over it.”

And then she knocked at the double door on the left, and I heard a voice say, “come in.”

Two young boys were sitting on an antique rug, and they were pushing little cars around a track. When we walked in, they looked up. And she said, “boys, this is your new nanny Sarah. She is starting work here tomorrow. Her name is Sarah, Sarah Carlisle.

Hi guys, you can call me Sarah. I have been looking forward to meeting you guys. I know we are going to have a lot of fun together. I grew up with three brothers, so I know what boys like to do. In fact, if it is alright with your mom, I would like to schedule a trip to the track to watch car races. One of my brothers works there, and he can get us in any time. And we’ll get the best seats in the house in the first row. What do you think?”

And that’s when the boys started jumping up and down. And then Sarah said, “so how do you feel about baseball? Because I have season tickets for all the best games.”

And that is when the two boys j ran over to Sarah and hugged her, and jumped up and down again. Then Sarah said, “and if you write down a list of your favorite activities, I can make a schedule for them so that every week we can do one of your favorite things.”

 OK, boys, how about we take Sarah for a tour of the house and the yard so when she starts tomorrow, she’ll feel right at home? The boys started tugging on Sarah, “come on, I can’t wait to show you our pool, and you won’t believe this we have a regulation-size pool table. Do you know how to play pool?”

“No, but I would love it if you guys taught me how. That would be awesome. So, how about taking me on that tour now.”

After Sarah was shown the whole house, including an immense attic, she was worn out. The boys seemed to be energized. Which was typical for young boys. They never ran out of energy. She knew this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And she looked forward to every minute of it.

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