news

'Insidious'

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 16:45:50 +0100

Read an Excerpt.....

Insidious

Emily and her husband Edward had been married for about five years. They had met shortly after Emily had broken up with a controlling and manipulative man. She was so thankful Ed had come along when he had. She literally thought she was going crazy. The man she thought she had loved was slowly driving her insane. She had lost the ability to know what was right and wrong. She was always questioning her motives and her judgments. The man had convinced her that her feelings were inconsequential and unimportant.

She used to think she had good sense. Her family had often told her that she had a good head on her shoulders. The man had told her that her family didn’t know what they were talking about and she ended up believing him. After she had time to stand back from the situation and see it more clearly and objectively, she realized that the man had a gift. He was like an evil magician. He gave the illusions of honesty and trust, but the reality was so far from the truth, it was hard to discern at the time.

Now, it was so obvious, it was almost laughable. How had she let it happen and how had she let it go on for so long? She dated him for a total of about nine months. She would break up with him and think it was over. He would call and impress her with his kindness and caring all over again. She fell for it several times.

Her journals saved her. If it hadn’t been for them, she might not have seen the pattern of abuse. It seemed as if he would get on her good side then slowly but surely, he would chip away at her self esteem by hinting that things were less than acceptable.

She made his favorite cake for his birthday and he thanked her profusely. Then, as he ate it there was an “odd after taste”. Of course it wasn’t her fault, he said. But nothing ever was good enough.

She began to notice the behavior after she reread her journal from the beginning. When she had finished, she recognized it and the light went off. He was either doing it on purpose or equally as bad, he didn’t realize he was pulling her down with every little criticism. It was so nice to have it written in black and white. It was there for anyone to see and evaluate. It was just so strange that she hadn’t been aware that it was going on until she saw the reoccurring events on the pages of her journal.

She had never told Edward about this other guy. She didn’t think she should discuss old boyfriends with him. She was, however so grateful and appreciative of Edward’s generous spirit. Ed always complimented her attempts at pleasing him, even if it was a disaster.

“You can try it again, Em,” Ed would say when they both laughed about a failed recipe that had sounded delicious but fell flat. “Your cake is much better anyway.”

She loved him all the more for it.

“You are so sweet, Ed,” Emily would say over and over. “Have I told you that?”

“About a million times,” Ed would reply, “But I like hearing it so don’t stop.”
With Ed, Emily felt beautiful and smart and creative and artistic

'Santa and the Snowballs!'

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 16:47:55 +0100

Santa and the Snowballs!

Santa and the elves were getting ready for the Christmas season. He was making his list and checking it twice. There was a lot of commotion in the neighborhood. Most of Santa’s neighbors loved the hustle and bustle of the work going on.

There was pounding and painting, laughing and singing. Everything you could think of to make toys and gifts for all the girls and boys. The workshop was lit all night so the elves could work round the clock, getting things finished for Christmas Eve.

There was one neighbor who didn’t like the hubbub. It was the Abominable Snowman. He was a ‘Grumpy Gus’. That meant he didn’t like much of anything. He was big and white and cold and mean. He deliberately tried to stop the elves from doing their job. He switched the sugar with the salt. Then he watched through the window as Mrs. Claus made her Christmas cookies with the wrong ingredients. He snickered when she tasted the results. She grimaced and squinted her eyes and puckered her lips.

He poured water on the sidewalks so it would turn to ice and be difficult for the elves to walk to work. He put starch in the reindeer’s blankets so they wouldn’t get enough sleep at night. Everyone knows that reindeer need plenty of rest for the big night ahead. He switched the straw with the sweet hay. The reindeer couldn’t eat the straw. That was their bedding but it looked the same.

One day, Gus had a thought. He was going to make hundreds and hundreds of snowballs. Then when he saw anyone at the workshop, he would lob a snowball at them. This was a big project and he was very proud of himself for thinking about it. He threw snowballs at each elf that walked by. Sometimes he would hit them in the back of their coats. Other times he would hit their legs. Sometimes the snowballs would break apart and spray them with the cold flakes that exploded on impact.

The elves were beginning to complain. They told Mrs. Claus about it first. They didn’t want to bother Santa since he had a lot on his mind. She told them that they should ignore it. Gus was just jealous and wasn’t happy when other people had more fun than he did. The elves tried to do as Mrs. Claus suggested but after a while it was not working.

Santa heard about the problem with Gus and he came up with a plan. He shared his idea with the elves and Mrs. Claus and they all got excited and decided to see if it would work.

After that, Gus saw a difference in his snowball attacks. Every time he would throw a snowball at an elf, the elf would turn around and pick it up and take it into the work shop with him. Gus had no idea what was going on. No one took snowballs inside with them. They would melt and get the floor wet. What Gus didn’t know was that the elves were taking the snowballs inside and then back out the rear door. They were piling all of the thrown snowballs in a great big heap behind the work shop. Gus didn’t know that because he never went around to the back. He didn’t know what was out there.

This went on for days. Gus was not pleased that his snowball attacks weren’t making the elves upset anymore. He kept at it though. He even threw snowballs at Santa when he came out to check on his reindeer. Once he hit Santa and knocked his hat off. Instead of becoming angry, Santa just laughed, “Ho, Ho, Ho,” He bellowed into the cold

night air. It almost made Gus smile, but he didn’t. It would not be like him to smile so he kept it from sneaking out.

There was plenty of snow at the North Pole so Gus never ran out of ammunition. He could make snowballs for years and years. All he really needed was enough to last the month of December. He could stop throwing snowballs when Christmas was over. After that, Santa closed the workshop and the elves got some time off.

Gus was becoming bored with his snowball game. He couldn’t quit yet though. On Christmas Eve, Gus watched Santa and the elves hitch up the reindeer to the sleigh. It was piled high and loaded down with dolls and trains and balls and games. It streaked off into the starry sky and was gone most of the night. The next day was Christmas day. That was the day when most of the children of the world found their toys and gifts under their trees. All the hard work the elves had done showed up in children’s homes everywhere.

Gus felt let down. He thought he would feel better if he pelted Santa and the elves with snowballs the entire month of December. But strangely enough, Gus didn’t feel good about it. He felt sad. He had nothing but discomfort to show for all of his work. His lips were chapped. He had a runny nose. His toes were blue. His hands were tingly. His fingers were numb. His throwing arm and shoulder ached a little from all the exercise. He felt cold all over. Even his heart felt a shiver when he thought of all the effort he had put into his snowballs. He felt kind of empty inside.

He looked at the dark workshop and there was no singing and laughing going on. Everyone was resting and probably drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on top. He could picture the steaming cocoa drinks and the milk mustaches on the elves upper lips. He had never had a hot chocolate mustache. He was too busy grumbling and complaining and throwing snowballs at his neighbors.

Gus stood behind a fir tree and saw Santa coming back to the workshop. He looked tired but happy. His sled was empty and the reindeer skidded to a stop in front of their barn. The elves ran out and helped Santa unhitch the animals. The reindeer walked into their warm stalls out of the wind and snow and settled down for a nice Christmas nap. They curled up in the clean dry straw and smelled the hay waiting for them when they woke up.

Santa and the elves stood in a circle as if they were deciding what to do. Finally Gus heard someone calling his name.

“Gus, where are you?” Santa called in his deep booming voice.

This had never happened before. Was Santa going to yell at him for throwing so many snowballs all month long?

Gus decided to come out of hiding and stand tall even if he didn’t feel very tall at the moment.

When Santa and the elves saw Gus straighten up and walk toward them, they smiled a little bit.

Gus had never seen anyone smile at him before. It sent a small shiver of something he had never felt before. Was this what ‘happy’ felt like?

“Gus, we have a surprise for you behind the workshop,” Santa said.

“A surprise, for me?” Gus asked, making sure he had heard Santa’s words correctly.

“Yes, Gus, for you,” Santa said. “Come with us and see what it is.”

Gus was afraid that it might be a trick and he put a frown on his face and scrunched his eyes into narrow slits. This was the face that he was used to making but he was ready for something different. He thought he might like smiling for a change. He lumbered along with Santa and the elves to the back of the workshop and saw the most beautiful white cave he had ever seen in his entire life!

Everyone knows that Abominable Snowmen live in caves. But this cave was made out of snow. When he walked up to the cave to look at it more closely, it had a lumpy appearance. Gus touched the snow cave gently, admiring the workmanship. It was lumpy because it was made out of hundreds of snowballs!

“Merry Christmas, Gus!” Santa said, patting Gus on his furry white back. “We never would have been able to do it without all of your snowballs.”

“Oh,” Gus said feeling slightly embarrassed. The snowballs he had thrown out of anger had been turned into something beautiful and useful just for him.

“It’s wonderful!” Gus said trying to keep his tears from spilling out of his eyes. He didn’t want his fur to freeze. He wouldn’t be able to smile if his face was frozen.

Gus moved into his snowball cave behind the workshop. From that time on, Gus helped the elves and Santa and even Mrs. Claus get ready for Christmas. He got to eat gingerbread cookies and drink all the warm cocoa he could ever want. It was so much more fun smiling than frowning, especially with a chocolate mustache on his face.

The End Happy Holidays
Written 12-24-09 Copyright 2009

'Barky and Bill's Rocky Road - #5

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:32:32 +0100

Barky and Bill’s Rocky Road

The New Truck
Becky and Quentin were watching Barky running after Bill in the back of Gran and Granpa’s house.

“You would think they were litter mates or something. They act like they’re best friends.” Becky said, “When Bill first got here, Barky was afraid of him.”

“Yeah,” Quentin agreed with his cousin, “Not to mention that Barky is a dog and Bill is a cat. How often does that happen?”

“Gran says that it just takes some adjusting sometimes until you’re comfortable with someone.” Becky said. “But they do look like they grew up together.”

“Kind of like us,” Quentin said, smiling at his cousin. They had met a year ago and had become good friends almost immediately.

“Yep, two peas in a pod,” Becky repeated the same thing that Gran always told her friends.

They watched Barky running past the tall grass near the creek while Bill was hiding, low to the ground getting ready to leap out when Barky got close. It was like they were playing a game that they both enjoyed. They could see Wild Bill with his black fur sticking out from his face like a little black lion. Bill’s back haunches were moving rapidly back and forth getting ready to make his attack.

Bill jumped out at Barky at the last minute, dancing sideways with his tail straight in the air and all puffed up to twice the normal size. Barky dove in the opposite direction, anticipating the attack. Then Barky rolled away into the tall grass. They could see the grasses moving while Barky kept running.

Becky and Quen laughed so hard when they saw the animal’s antics they almost “busted a gut”. That’s what Grandpa liked to say sometimes.

“Let’s eat our lunch now before Grandpa gets back with his new truck,” Gran said to the kids sitting on the back porch.

“Ok, I can’t wait to see it,” Quen said with excitement. “I hope he got the red one.”

Grandpa had been talking about getting a new truck for the longest time. He wanted to start taking the kids camping and fishing. He was planning on getting a cap for the bed of the truck so they wouldn’t have to pitch a tent. That way they would be out of the weather and all their gear would stay dry if they were caught in a sudden storm.

They had gilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch. After that they helped Gran clear the table. While Gran washed the dishes in the sink, the two kids went onto the front porch to wait for Grandpa to pull in with his new truck.

“He got the red one!” Quen said jumping up and down, pointing down the road.

Grandpa pulled into the driveway and smiled at the kids running toward him.

'Barky's Buffalo' - #4 in 'Barky' series

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:35:30 +0100

Barky’s Buffalo

4^th book in the ‘Barky’ series

Interesting News

“You’ll never guess what your Grandpa is going to do? Gran said to her two grandchildren, Becky and Quentin.

“I love to guess,” Quentin said. “Can I try?”

“Oh no,” Becky said, “We might be here awhile. He’s not kidding about loving to guess.”

“OK,” Gran laughed and answered, “I’ll give you each two guesses, then I will tell you if you don’t get it.”

“Can I go first?” asked Quentin.

“Give me your two best guesses,” Gran said.

“Grandpa is either going to build another barn,” Quentin said for his first guess, “or Grandpa is going to run for mayor.”

“They are both very good guesses, Quentin,” Gran said, “and I wouldn’t be surprised if he did either one of those things, but they aren’t even close. What do you think, Becky?”

“Hmmm,” Becky thought out loud then said, “If Quentin’s guesses are not even close, I will guess something extreme. Grandpa is going to apply to ride on the space shuttle or Grandpa has been invited to the White House.”

“Two more really good guesses,” Gran said. “You both have highly creative imaginations but none of your guesses are correct. Shall I tell you what Grandpa is going to do?

“Yes,” the two cousins said together, anxious to hear Grandpa’s latest scheme.

“This isn’t a done deal yet,” Gran said, “But grandpa has been talking about it for a long time and he’s been researching it. I think he’s been making plans.”

“Tell us, Gran,” Becky said, “We’re dying from curiosity.”

“Grandpa is going to get a couple of buffaloes for the farm,” Gran said.

Becky and Quentin just stood there not knowing what to say. “We never would have guessed that,” Quentin finally blurted out. “Grandpa has always been a fan of the Wild West. Is that why?”

“Maybe partly,” Gran admitted. “I never considered that but you’re probably right. Grandpa has always loved to read westerns and learning about the west in the 1800s. One of Grandpa’s favorite authors was Zane Grey. He was actually born in Zanesville, Ohio, about a half hour from our farm.”

“Wow,” Becky said, impressed, “I remember seeing the books but I didn’t know the author lived so close by.”
“Well, Zane Grey was born in 1872 and died in 1939, but there is a museum in Zanesville we could go to sometime.”

“Yay,” Quentin said, “another field trip. Are there any buffalo farms nearby?”

“That’s just the thing, Quentin,” Gran said, “If Grandpa ends up buying a buffalo, he will have to go to Colorado and take the cattle truck to bring them back.”

'Barky's Blizzard - #3 in 'Barky' series

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:38:35 +0100

Barky’s Blizzard
3^rd book in the ‘Barky’ series

Ant or Grasshopper

Becky called Quentin on the phone. When Quentin answered, Becky said, “Guess what Grandpa told me?”

Quentin paused a few seconds then said, “The early Bird gets the worm.”

Becky said, “He did say that but that’s not what he said this time. Guess again.”

Quentin tried again and said, “Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.”
“That’s one of his favorites but that’s not it.” Becky said, “I don’t think you’ll get this one. Can I tell you?”

“Give me another hint,” Quentin said, “I feel like guessing again.”

Becky said, “OK, It’s about the weather.”

“Hmmm,” Quentin said thoughtfully, “Don’t spit into the wind.”

Becky made an obnoxious noise that sounded like the buzzer on a TV quiz show when an incorrect answer was given. “Wrong,” She said.

Quentin said, “I’ve got it… Don’t eat yellow snow.”

“Yuck,” Becky said, “Wrong again.”

“OK, I give up,” Quentin surrendered, “What did Grandpa tell you?”

“He was reading the Farmer’s Almanac and it said that this winter was going to be extremely severe.” Becky announced.

“He already told me that the other day,” Quentin said. “I was helping him carry wood to the pile beside the house.”

“Oh, darn,” Becky said with disappointment, “I wanted to surprise you with the alarming news.”

“Just how accurate is the Farmer’s Almanac when it comes to predicting the weather?” Quentin asked Becky.

“I don’t know,” Becky answered,” but I do know that Grandpa always reads it and plans accordingly. He also looks to nature for signs of unusual behavior.”

“Such as…?” Quentin asked.

“The other day, Grandpa spotted a large wasp nest. When he took it down, he said it was the largest one he had ever seen in that location and it might indicate a bad winter to come.” Becky told Quentin.

“Does Grandpa really believe those stories?” Quentin asked.

“There is some basis in fact to some of the stories,” Becky answered. “If honey bees have an unusually large amount of honey in the hive that could indicate that they will need more food to get them through the winter. So if a wasp nest is larger than normal, that might point to the same thing.”

“Is that why Grandpa is cutting and splitting more wood than he usually does?” Quentin asked.

Grandpa said, “It just makes good sense to be prepared.” He told me if you have too much of something, it’s never a bad thing. But if you don’t have enough of something, you could suffer for it. Grandpa also told me that he would rather be safe than sorry. He said he would rather be secure knowing he overcompensated, than kick himself with regret.

“The Grasshopper and the Ant.” Quentin said.

“He used to tell me that story when I was little,” Becky said.

“So did my dad,” Quentin said.

'Barky's Belch' - #2 in the 'Barky' series

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:40:59 +0100

Barky’s Belch

                                   2^nd book in the ‘Barky’ series

                                                   Free Gas
            Becky called Quentin on the phone and said, “I think there is something weird going on with Barky.”

“What do you mean, weird?” Quentin asked.

“Well,” Becky said, “he’s been full of gas.”

“Yuck,” Quentin said, “That happened to me once after I ate a whole bowl of broccoli with French onion dip.”

“Gran thinks he might just be stressed after all the attention he got from the newspapers and photographers after making his big discovery this summer.”

Quentin said, “Yeah, excitement and stress could do that. I remember when I had to recite a poem in front of the whole class, I couldn’t talk for burping. I was a big hit.”

“Quentin,” Becky said sternly, “I’m trying to tell you about Barky.”

“OK, sorry,” Quentin said, “So what does Grandpa think?”

“He thinks it’s pretty funny,” Becky said, “He told me about this friend he had who could belch for ten seconds straight. He wants to go out and buy a stop watch so we can ‘time’ Barky’s belches.

“Wow,” Quentin said, “I wish I could do that. I’ll have to practice to get that good. But I’ll have to do it outside. Mom would have a fit if she knew I was trying for a record.”

Becky said, “Grandpa also said this same guy could belch talk. He could belch out the alphabet.”

“That is so cool,” Quentin said.

“When are you moving?” Becky asked Quentin, changing the subject. He and his family decided to move closer to Gran and Grandpa and Becky and her mom. Quentin’s dad and Becky’s dad were half brothers until her dad died before she was born. Uncle Quentin was Grandpa’s son before he married Gran. Quentin would be enrolling in Becky’s school the end of summer. The two cousins were looking forward to it. They had just met for the first time this past summer and spent several weeks on Grandpa’s farm. They had become best friends and had a lot in common. Not to mention becoming local celebrities when Barky dug up his big bone.

Quentin said, “As soon as we get things tied up on this end, we can start moving into our new house. I can’t wait until school starts.”

“I think you must be the only kid I know who can’t wait for school to start,” Becky teased.

“I know, “Quentin said, “I would never admit that to anyone but you.”

'Hannibal's Animals'

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 14:47:54 +0100

A Short Selection of Animal Poems

Hannibal’s Animals

There was a soldier, many centuries ago.

He decided to invade Rome, a long way to go.

He started in Africa and needed to ride.

He chose war elephants, side by side.

They began from Carthage, far away,

traveling along the coast, to arrive some day.

Over the Alps, the elephants went,

moving and steady, where they were sent.

Some men rode and some men walked,

The elephants journeyed on and never balked.

They arrived in Rome, a complete surprise,

they were a total shock to the Roman’s eyes!

'Inspect the Insect'

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 14:49:28 +0100

A Short Selection of insect poems.

Hug a Bug!

A little insect climbed up on me

“hello, little bug, what do you see?”

He was so tiny, he was so small,

I wondered if he could see me at all.

Was I a mountain, he wanted to view?

A new place to go, just something to do?

What did he think when I moved and talked?

Was I an earthquake, a giant who walked?

Would he tell his friends about his day?

When he met a huge creature in his way?

It would be nice to give a pat and a hug,

but hard to do since he was just a bug.

'Glad & Glo' - Read an Excerpt

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 14:56:35 +0100

Glad and Glo

Gladys and Gloria had been friends since their first day of kindergarten. Gloria was the quiet and thoughtful girl while Gladys was the more outgoing and vivacious one. They hit it off right away. Everyone thought it must have been because opposites attract. But Gladys wanted to have Gloria on her side because she let her be the star of the show. Gloria didn’t demand that people always look at her and listen to her every word. Gladys on the other hand, thrived on attention and adoration. They were the perfect match. They complemented one another and genuinely liked each other’s company.

Their friends quickly came to call them Glad and Glo. It suited them to a T. Gladys was positive and hopeful and was always ready to try new things and experiences. She saw things as they really were and was tolerant and accepting. Gloria was very cautious by nature. She wanted to test the waters before she jumped in, especially when it came to new people and situations. It wasn’t that she wasn’t as trusting as Gladys. She just needed to get to know people before she could be herself completely. She felt that others were judging her so she had to be on her best behavior. Gladys flew by the seat of her pants. She said and did things without thinking about them. She was spontaneous and fun to be with. Gloria made others nervous, although it would have made her sad to know it. She thought of herself as a nice person who would do anything for anyone. It was hard

for her to obtain friends. Most of her friends were Gladys’ friends by association.

Whenever they were at a social gathering, if Gladys left the room, there was usually an uncomfortable silence until she returned. Gloria didn’t know why that happened. It was just a sudden tension in the air when Gladys was not there. Gloria thought about it and analyzed it on numerous occasions but couldn’t come up with a reason or a solution to the annoying dilemma. It didn’t happen that often so it was not a huge problem for her. It just would have been nice to have something prepared for the times when it did happen.

Gladys was slightly jealous of Gloria’s ability to see situations and intuit feelings and emotions. She thought that her nickname of Glo was perfect for her because in her mind, Gloria did actually glow with an intensity that she didn’t possess herself. She thought of herself as mostly a shallow person without much depth. Gloria, on the other hand, had layers and layers of complex nuances. Gladys didn’t see herself as others saw her, as a fun person to be with. She did have a lot of people who enjoyed her company but she thought it was for entertainment sake and not for enlightenment. It would have been nice if people came to her with questions they needed answers to. She didn’t notice that no one went to Gloria with questions either. When Gloria said something, it was usually heavy with meaning. At least that was how Gladys saw it. When Gloria spoke, Gladys listened. She didn’t know why people weren’t lined up at the door to listen to Gloria but they weren’t.

Their physical appearance coincided with their personalities. Gladys, who was fun loving had wavy, blonde hair and a peachy complexion. She looked like someone who loved the outdoors and got a lot of fresh air and sunshine to go with her bouncy disposition. Gloria had an olive complexion and baby fine, dark brown hair that flew away even if there was no wind. It wasn’t a rich mahogany or honey brown color. It was more the color of wet ashes. Gladys tried to talk her into coloring it or adding highlights but Gloria was firm about staying the way she had been born. She had no piercings or tattoos which all of the people they knew had had at least one or the other. She wore no makeup or nail polish. She also owned no jewelry.

“I’m going out the same way I came in,” Gloria would say when Gladys suggested a change.

“There’s nothing wrong with tweaking things a little,” Gladys would say to her friend. “It’s fun. You should try it. Fun is a good thing.”

“I don’t see it as fun,” Gloria said to her puzzled friend. “I see it as defacement. You don’t see birds flying around with paint on their beaks or diamonds hanging from their wings. They don’t need it because it isn’t necessary.”

“How did you become the way you are?” Gladys asked, not meaning it in a cruel way but an honest interest in something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“I don’t know,” Gloria answered honestly, “but I’ve always felt strongly about being the best I can be with what I have to work with.”

“Well, I love change!” Gladys exclaimed, “and lots of it!”

“Do you think it fulfills a need you have?” Gloria asked.

“Yes it does,” Gladys replied, “My need for excitement. I don’t have a problem with that at all.”

They would have conversations like that all the time but only between the two of them.

When they were in high school, they had different boys interested in them. That made it easier on their friendship. They never had to compete with each other or worry that the boy they were interested in would want to date the other. Gloria was never worried about the boys who were interested in her. She knew they wouldn’t be going anywhere else for attention.

“If a guy is meant to be with me, he will be,” Gloria said pragmatically. “If we’re supposed to stay together, we will.”

“I’m always worried that a guy I like will find someone better.” Gladys shared, “After a while, I also think there might be someone better out there just waiting for me to find him.”

“You’ll never find anyone to settle down with that way,” Gloria said, “You have to make up your mind and stick with one person.”

“It’s the ‘settling’ part that worries me the most.” Gladys said, “I don’t want to think that I am making a decision I might regret some day.”

“If you think there is a perfect person out there, you’ll be disappointed,” Gloria announced.

“Maybe there is a perfect person just for me,” suggested Gladys. “And I won’t be disappointed if I keep looking for him.”

“If that’s how you want to spend your life,” Gloria said leaving it an open ended statement.

“That’s what makes life interesting,” Gladys said, “You never know what will be around the corner to discover.”

'The Hearing Heart' - Read an Excerpt

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 15:30:18 +0100

The Hearing Heart
The group of teenagers was watching the young man carry the heavy bags of feed out of the farm store.

“There’s the ‘dummy’ again,” the blonde seventeen year old boy said to the others standing around.

“The correct term is deaf/mute,” one of the girls said. “Nobody says deaf and dumb any more.”

“Well, my dad says ‘dummy’ and if it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.”

“He may be mute, but he’s also cute,” another girl said, giggling and blushing because she had said it ouloud.

“Do you want me to fix him up with you?” the blonde boy said, grinning maliciously.

“He is kind of cute if you didn’t know he was deaf,” her friend said, supporting Caitlyn so Kyle would give it a rest. She knew once he latched onto something, he wouldn’t let it drop.

“I think Caitlyn should go out with the ‘dummy’, Kyle said grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the man’s truck.

Caitlyn pulled back and looked like she was going to cry.

“Let her go, Kyle,” her friend said, “She was just making an observation.

“Well, keep your observations to yourself from now one,” Kyle hissed, “Or you might get what you wish for.

Ruthie Baker watched the interaction take place from inside the book store where she worked after school. The doors were open. It was a beautiful spring day in May. She knew all the kids in the group. They were the popular kids that most of the student body wanted to be like or be liked by. She might have been the only exception to the rule.

The man they were discussing was Matt Sweetman. Her father had told her that Matt had been a normal boy until the accident. He was ten years old at the time. He and his parents were on vacation when a drunk driver plowed into their car, killing everyone inside but Matt. He had severe injuries and the medical personnel didn’t think he would survive. Everyone was amazed when he awoke from his coma, on the mend, except for a complete hearing loss. The doctors couldn’t explain it. At first they thought it might be a psychological trauma and not a physiological injury. They just didn’t know for sure. From that time on, Matt never spoke again and seemed not to be able to hear a thing. He told them as much when he communicated by writing.

His old, bachelor uncle had taken him in and cared for his physical needs but that was about all. Matt had withdrawn into his own silent world. Ruth’s father, Zeb Baker, had seen something special in the boy and asked the uncle if he could hire Matt to help out around the house. The uncle was glad to have the boy out from under foot and the extra income would come in handy with two mouths to feed rather than one. Zeb and his wife MaryRuth were glad to help the young boy. Ruthie was a toddler when Matt came to the house to help out. He had been a part of her growing up since as far back as her memory would serve. She loved Matt like a big brother. She was eight years old when her mother had died suddenly. Matt had been there for her with his silent support while she poured her heart out to him. Whenever she had anything important going on in her life, it had been Matt she would tell. He would always listen without interrupting and take it all in without judgment. He would smile at her gently and ruffle her caramel colored hair. It hadn’t occurred to her until her friend told her in high school that he probably was just being nice because he couldn’t hear a word she had ever said. She was shocked at her own stupidity. She had always thought that he loved her and was interested in her and enjoyed her company, when in reality he probably didn’t know, didn’t care and couldn’t get away from her because he was working. Remembering that day, made her want to cry all over again. There was an ache in her chest that hadn’t gone away for three years whenever she saw Matt.

On that day, three years ago, Matt had come over after a long, severe winter and a wet and chilly spring, Ruth ran out to greet him dressed in shorts and a tank top she had bought recently. Matt stared at her for a long time with a blank look on his face like he had never seen her before. He hadn’t smiled or waved and went to talk to her father and turned around and left. He had never come back to the house after that. She was too scared and embarrassed to ask her father what Matt had said. She thought she had done something terrible to make him not want to ever come back to the house. Her heart felt as if it had been physically crushed. There was a real pain in the middle of her chest. She watched Matt drive away without turning around. Something terrible must have happened to cause his reaction when he looked at her. She went to her room and looked in the mirror. She thought she looked nice. Her shorts weren’t too tight and her tank top was modest. Her hair was clean and bouncy. Her skin was still clear and she looked healthy. She threw herself on top of her bed and cried her eyes out until they held no more tears. She washed her face with cold water and went downstairs to fix their supper. She was the meal maker now that her mother was gone. She had started with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and had begun to cut out recipes and found meals on the computer.

Zeb had invested in a computer for them both. He said it was good for business and a good tool for Ruth to use for her school work. Zeb and Matt had had their conversations on the computer. Zeb had printed out the paper that Matt had typed the day that he had left his employ. Zeb passed it to Ruth. Ruth wanted to take it but her hands were trembling too hard. She grabbed a dish towel and just walked around to her father’s chair and read it over his shoulder. It had stated simply, “Zeb, I won’t be able to come over any longer. It was an honor to help you out. Thank you. Your friend, Matt.”

Ruth knew it was something she had done but she felt too guilty to talk about it with her father. How she wished she could ask Matt about it. She could talk to him about anything. She was about to start crying all over again but she had to get through her dinner first. Her father asked her about her day at school. She answered as best she could. Trying to talk around the huge lump in her throat was difficult. After she washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, she took the printed page upstairs with her to her bedroom. She read and reread it trying to squeeze any meaning out of it she could have possibly missed the first ten times she had read it. It was always the same. The words didn’t change and there was no hidden meaning that she could determine. That was three years ago. This school year was about over. She would be graduating in one month and was planning on going to college at the state university, a short drive away. She wanted to study to become a nurse. She had always had dreams that centered on saving her mother and restoring Matt’s hearing. She was always the heroine and everyone was always whole and healthy in the end. She knew life didn’t always work that way, but it gave her comfort to think that it might be possible some day to help others in a way she hadn’t been able when she was little and felt so helpless.