Ed Brilke stared directly at the 42 year old man with the thinning hair and frowned. How anyone could walk around life knowing so much scalp is showing was beyond him. If it were up to him, he'd be using a touch of the spray on hair to cover it up, but Jennifer says she'd rather see him completely bald than look like he just changed his oil without a pan. The shirt was alright with a touch of blue that highlighted his eyes, but the shoes were visibly worn at the toe and the sole flapped softly against the linoleum when he walked down the halls at work.
Yes, Ed Brilke was not the young man he had hoped to be when he'd finish his life. True, he had managed to hold off gray hair into his 40s, but God found away to remind him he was still aging. His father had passed away from heart failure at 54 with a thick full head of hair. Unfortunately, genetics works differently than Ed wanted and his mother's father was as bald as a newborn baby.
The door opens starling him from his revelry. Jim Thomas walks past him with a sidelong glance implying his concern at any man standing in the men's room not at a urinal, toilet or at least washing his hands at the sink. Ed had been caught day dreaming again instead of working. He flipped the handle to cold on the sink and began scrubbing his hands methodically like a surgeon. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand... Ed had read some where that surgeons scrub their hands for a minimum of fifteen second to insure no germs remain on their hands before a surgery. Ed had a fascinating medical history that read like a cliff notes version of a man's life. His childhood records included many dates and diseases listed as he was vaccinated as a young child and through his youth. He had his tetanus booster five years ago after cutting his foot on a rusty fishing hook at a company get away. He had a record of his visit to the cardiologist after his father passed from heart disease. All records indicated Ed was a healthy man. He had never been sick. The hospital records could only cover visits to indicate if he had ever been sick, but Ed had never even had a cold or the flu.
As a child, he only attempted a few sick days once he watched enough TV to recognize the symptoms of a sever cold or flu. He would rub his nose raw with a tissue and apply a light dose of Vaseline for the appearance of runniness, but he was often sent to the bathroom to clean off his face and get ready for school. He had never taken ill with the chicken pox as a child even though his sisters had them when he was 5 years old. his mother forced him to sleep in the same room with the itching twins for 4 nights before she gave up on the hope of getting his infection out of the way with theirs. This sort of disease that was known to be more severe in adulthood than childhood is why Ed washed his hands so thoroughly. It's why he used two paper towels to dry his hands: one for the drying and the other to open the door before he walked out.
Back in the hallway, Ed's phone began to vibrate in his pocket, but he couldn't get it yet. He had the social awkwardness of not wanting to be on his phone while walking away from the bathroom and given anyone reason to believe he was one of those men that had no problem answering the phone while sitting on the toilet. He despised those people and the diseases they likely spread to their phones in those moments. He dreaded having friends that handed him a phone to talk to a friend calling from far away and never knowing how clean it was. If he stayed healthy, he trusted that friend more than before.
Back at his desk, his voicemail light lit red. tapping the voicemail speed dial, Ed enters his pin and presses one numerous time until his message finally plays. The first sound to great him is a siren and then the panicked voice of his wife swearing that he's not at his desk and hanging up. Ed reaches furiously for his cell phone as he stands at his desk and runs to the elevator bank. He pressed the speed dial on his phone and hears this voicemail from his wife. The sirens are quieter this time and she seems to be whispering somewhere away from the noise to him. "Ed. I'm not crazy. Don't let them tell you I'm crazy. I saw it. I saw that lizard thing take Stan. It threw him in a bag and walked through the wall like it was some kind of ghost. You have to believe me! Come home now!"
As the elevator came, Ed realized Jennifer should have been working that day. Why was she at home? And, more importantly, why was she with Stan Garretti, their landlord?
Friday, May 9, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
The Back Story of Life
They smile at the obituary page. They see those passing on through the eyes of those forced to stay here without them. Those that ask why are clearly not enlightened to the grand scheme. Those that quell the saddened with phrases like "it was his time" or "God has a plan" are considered idiot savants. They know but they do not understand.
Most people have the doubt about everything happening in its time. They want to believe death happens for a reason, but it becomes difficult when it happens to the healthy. To the strong. To the young. They expect it from the old and from the terminal and can not accept when it's horrific and man made.
They can not understand that everyone has a due date stamped into the back of their heads. A time when your earthly voyage is done. Everyone fights it, but they all must succumb to it no matter how great the fight. There is no escaping us. We are everything. We are everywhere.
We have been tasked with a job and we are never failing. We are ever performing. We are clutch in your definition. We always play to win and we never lose. Our numbers may not be as great since the due dates have been extended. Most of our numbers have been laid off and moved onto positions in middle management redirecting the recent term finishers.
We came into a rough patch a few years back and were forced to use some temporary workers. Most were experienced and previous stampers. Some came from other life collection areas such as inceptors and planners. Sadly, we were one short and had to rely on one of the laborers in the entertainment wing. His name was Cyrus and he is why we have an unstamped roaming free.
He is why you are here.
Most people have the doubt about everything happening in its time. They want to believe death happens for a reason, but it becomes difficult when it happens to the healthy. To the strong. To the young. They expect it from the old and from the terminal and can not accept when it's horrific and man made.
They can not understand that everyone has a due date stamped into the back of their heads. A time when your earthly voyage is done. Everyone fights it, but they all must succumb to it no matter how great the fight. There is no escaping us. We are everything. We are everywhere.
We have been tasked with a job and we are never failing. We are ever performing. We are clutch in your definition. We always play to win and we never lose. Our numbers may not be as great since the due dates have been extended. Most of our numbers have been laid off and moved onto positions in middle management redirecting the recent term finishers.
We came into a rough patch a few years back and were forced to use some temporary workers. Most were experienced and previous stampers. Some came from other life collection areas such as inceptors and planners. Sadly, we were one short and had to rely on one of the laborers in the entertainment wing. His name was Cyrus and he is why we have an unstamped roaming free.
He is why you are here.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Sui Javo
A fine grey powder billowed skyward from the asphalt before taking the shape of the wind and dissipating into nothing. The cinder blocks tests the results of falling from such great heights. Like an egg drop gone horribly wrong, the event begins. The first contestant walks to the ledge holding cinder block stuffed full of tomatoes and tosses it in an arc with a few tomatoes escaping before implanting in the parking lot below. The cinder block reaches the ground delivering its payload of lycopene to the black top. The concrete splinters a fragment off of the corner allowing the tomatoes to ooze out like some sadistic pasta sauce.
The next contestant steps forward with a wooden box of 1"x2" boards stuffed with pickled beets in one side and 2 4"x4" blocks. The drop is meticulous and the box lands on the wood blocks firing the pickled beets airborne into the nearby splash zone. The ruddy purple strikes near the tomato remains in a spray pattern as if spewed from the mouth of some tomato beast that had fallen to earth. Contestant two walks away pleased with the effect.
Contestant three walks to the ladder rungs peeking over the top of the building's edge and ties the ends of a water balloon slingshot to each before loading the funnel with a leftover order of Chicken Tikka from Fast Fresh Indian. In one smooth motion, she pulls the funnel back tightening the elastic and quickly angles the shot downward firing before any can drip onto the building. An explosion of curry and chicken strike at an angle next to the previous two contestants spraying over top of the other two stains like a sunburst.
The judge nods in approval as contestant 3 steps back rejoining the line of contestants just as contestant four pulls a bag of limes out strapping them to his chest before sprinting and leaping off the edge of the building. The other contestants run to the edge, but can only stop and watch as the body tumbles 6 stories to the parking lot below. The body strikes the ground just beyond the tomatoes firing various streams of green lime pulp and rind in all directions. The body lies still momentarily before pressing against the ground in a push up and rising to his feet.
Shaking off the initial shock, he begins to sprint towards the gate before the guard stops him and knocks him flat with a clothes line. The judge grabs the radio from his belt and barks orders at the guard. In response, the other contestants watch as the guard smashes his flashlight over number four's head and drags the limp body into the guard house.
"Number 3. You are the winner. Now everyone dance!" The judge announces as if nothing happened. Looking downward to the parking lot she now sees the guard and contestant number four outside of the guard house dancing like they were in a dance club. The two contestants are doing an old fashioned swim dance and the judge is breaking down with the pony when she looks down and sees a trophy at her feet.
Picking it up she reads the inscription: "Lisa Weinstand, Winner of Food Stai.. traffic today on the 308 is backed up a bit due to an overturned fruit stand tipping into the exit lane near Randolph."
Lisa awakes to her radio alarm with a styrofoam container lying next to her on her bed. She remembers getting back at near to 2am the night before and ordering late night Indian food. She must have fallen asleep while eating and had a stream of yellow stain down her shirt and on her sheets. Turning 30 wasn't supposed to be like this, she tells herself before killing the alarm clock and rolling over again.
The next contestant steps forward with a wooden box of 1"x2" boards stuffed with pickled beets in one side and 2 4"x4" blocks. The drop is meticulous and the box lands on the wood blocks firing the pickled beets airborne into the nearby splash zone. The ruddy purple strikes near the tomato remains in a spray pattern as if spewed from the mouth of some tomato beast that had fallen to earth. Contestant two walks away pleased with the effect.
Contestant three walks to the ladder rungs peeking over the top of the building's edge and ties the ends of a water balloon slingshot to each before loading the funnel with a leftover order of Chicken Tikka from Fast Fresh Indian. In one smooth motion, she pulls the funnel back tightening the elastic and quickly angles the shot downward firing before any can drip onto the building. An explosion of curry and chicken strike at an angle next to the previous two contestants spraying over top of the other two stains like a sunburst.
The judge nods in approval as contestant 3 steps back rejoining the line of contestants just as contestant four pulls a bag of limes out strapping them to his chest before sprinting and leaping off the edge of the building. The other contestants run to the edge, but can only stop and watch as the body tumbles 6 stories to the parking lot below. The body strikes the ground just beyond the tomatoes firing various streams of green lime pulp and rind in all directions. The body lies still momentarily before pressing against the ground in a push up and rising to his feet.
Shaking off the initial shock, he begins to sprint towards the gate before the guard stops him and knocks him flat with a clothes line. The judge grabs the radio from his belt and barks orders at the guard. In response, the other contestants watch as the guard smashes his flashlight over number four's head and drags the limp body into the guard house.
"Number 3. You are the winner. Now everyone dance!" The judge announces as if nothing happened. Looking downward to the parking lot she now sees the guard and contestant number four outside of the guard house dancing like they were in a dance club. The two contestants are doing an old fashioned swim dance and the judge is breaking down with the pony when she looks down and sees a trophy at her feet.
Picking it up she reads the inscription: "Lisa Weinstand, Winner of Food Stai.. traffic today on the 308 is backed up a bit due to an overturned fruit stand tipping into the exit lane near Randolph."
Lisa awakes to her radio alarm with a styrofoam container lying next to her on her bed. She remembers getting back at near to 2am the night before and ordering late night Indian food. She must have fallen asleep while eating and had a stream of yellow stain down her shirt and on her sheets. Turning 30 wasn't supposed to be like this, she tells herself before killing the alarm clock and rolling over again.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Spreading
That woman was dead and that bullet went right through her chest! Jackson Krennan couldn't believe his luck. He had always wanted to wonder the streets of the city and find something amazing to tell stories about for once in his life. Enough of Bill's running of the bulls story in the cafeteria. He managed to find a way to fit that damn story in no matter what the topic.
"I can't believe they think macaroni and cheese constitutes an entree in the cafeteria. Next they'll be saying a bag of chips if an entree and we should shell out $5 for the privilege of having a plate full of Doritos!"
"I hear you. When I was running with the bulls in Pamplona, the had a lot of expensive treats at the vendors lined up along the course. Not like I had time to partake since I was running for my life and all."
Jackson hated that guy. To make matters worse, his desk was next to Bill's and he had ti hear Bill use that story on sales calls to bully people into buying one of the products in their catalog that week. Telemarketing is bad enough without this joker telling the same lame anecdotes over and over to guilt someone into a purchase to make up for not having as fulfilling of a life as Bill had.
Finally he had a story to use of his own. Don't miss your opportunity. I watched a young woman killed on the streets out here...her whole life ahead of her. You never know what could happen if you don't grab every opportunity! Jackson had it all running through his head as he doubled over in pain from a piercing pain in his chest. He felt the hot pain of the sidewalk cracking against his forehead and the cold in the pit of his stomach as his body rebooted.
His eyes opened to a pair of white tennis shoes on a sidewalk. He could not tell how long he had gone down for, but he knew one thing. Nobody was coming to check on him. Not with the dead girl in the street. He gathered himself slowly and bit more sluggish than expected to his knees. His first attempt to pull his left foot into a partially crouched pose failed as if it weren't responding to his commands at this point.
After more grunting and moaning than his personal trainer would like to see in a customer, Jackson made it back to his feet in time to see the woman standing in the street again like some undead weeble wobble. Why is she still standing there! I saw that shot go right through her.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Some story this was turning out to be. He had to say something to somebody just to prove he wasn't insane. Luckily, the streets were crowded with people witnessing the whole event. He turned to see if the sneaker lady was still next to him and was taken aback to find she wasn't watching the woman at all. her eyes bore only into him as he turned to face her.
"What are you staring at me for? She's the one still standing after a truck ran her down and a cop shot her in the chest." His voice must not have come back completely after the crack to his head because Jackson heard only the tone of his own voice as a guttural howl.
Something in that tone must have frightened the woman with the white sneakers as she recoiled in horror nearly knocking the couple behind her over backwards. She fell backwards as the couple split not wanting to touch her for some reason. Jackson wanted to make sure she was alright when he noticed those same white tennis shoes she was wearing were spattered red.
Jackson assumed his fall must have caused more blood than he imagined to come out of him. Reaching for his forehead to check for a scrape, he realized he was still holding something in his hand. To his dismay, it was a woman's arm. Further frightening him was his next action as he moved it to his mouth to take a bite.
"I can't believe they think macaroni and cheese constitutes an entree in the cafeteria. Next they'll be saying a bag of chips if an entree and we should shell out $5 for the privilege of having a plate full of Doritos!"
"I hear you. When I was running with the bulls in Pamplona, the had a lot of expensive treats at the vendors lined up along the course. Not like I had time to partake since I was running for my life and all."
Jackson hated that guy. To make matters worse, his desk was next to Bill's and he had ti hear Bill use that story on sales calls to bully people into buying one of the products in their catalog that week. Telemarketing is bad enough without this joker telling the same lame anecdotes over and over to guilt someone into a purchase to make up for not having as fulfilling of a life as Bill had.
Finally he had a story to use of his own. Don't miss your opportunity. I watched a young woman killed on the streets out here...her whole life ahead of her. You never know what could happen if you don't grab every opportunity! Jackson had it all running through his head as he doubled over in pain from a piercing pain in his chest. He felt the hot pain of the sidewalk cracking against his forehead and the cold in the pit of his stomach as his body rebooted.
His eyes opened to a pair of white tennis shoes on a sidewalk. He could not tell how long he had gone down for, but he knew one thing. Nobody was coming to check on him. Not with the dead girl in the street. He gathered himself slowly and bit more sluggish than expected to his knees. His first attempt to pull his left foot into a partially crouched pose failed as if it weren't responding to his commands at this point.
After more grunting and moaning than his personal trainer would like to see in a customer, Jackson made it back to his feet in time to see the woman standing in the street again like some undead weeble wobble. Why is she still standing there! I saw that shot go right through her.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Some story this was turning out to be. He had to say something to somebody just to prove he wasn't insane. Luckily, the streets were crowded with people witnessing the whole event. He turned to see if the sneaker lady was still next to him and was taken aback to find she wasn't watching the woman at all. her eyes bore only into him as he turned to face her.
"What are you staring at me for? She's the one still standing after a truck ran her down and a cop shot her in the chest." His voice must not have come back completely after the crack to his head because Jackson heard only the tone of his own voice as a guttural howl.
Something in that tone must have frightened the woman with the white sneakers as she recoiled in horror nearly knocking the couple behind her over backwards. She fell backwards as the couple split not wanting to touch her for some reason. Jackson wanted to make sure she was alright when he noticed those same white tennis shoes she was wearing were spattered red.
Jackson assumed his fall must have caused more blood than he imagined to come out of him. Reaching for his forehead to check for a scrape, he realized he was still holding something in his hand. To his dismay, it was a woman's arm. Further frightening him was his next action as he moved it to his mouth to take a bite.
Monday, May 5, 2008
The baby epidemic
Erin Morgan Shine, 35 years old, lies 8 months pregnant in the hammock in the side yard of her home on 318 North Prospect place in Spring Hill, Indiana. She and her second husband, Eric, have lived there for nearly two years. Eric is mowing the back lawn as Erin relaxes on a cool autumn day after a morning of picking through the baby names book together. Names had been tossed around both from the book and as jokes to make each other laugh, but nothing was agreed upon yet.
Eric didn't have any male role models in his family that he would consider naming the child after. His father had been one of the string of congressmen linked to the DC Madame prostitution ring as "Customer 10" on the list before congress a year back. He had no uncles and his grandfather had fled to Canada to avoid the draft into WWII which Eric did not fault him for, but he abandoned Eric's grandmother and father at the same time and never returned to the US once he found a new love in Saskatchewan.
Erin liked the names of Eric's father and grandfather, but Eric would not hear of being reminded of his family's past or force his child to live a life in their shadow and name. The name choices were also limited by Erin's refusal to name her son the same as any other children in the neighborhood. She feared the day when she asked if her son was somewhere by first name only and allowed her son to go missing for not asking for him beyond first name. The sheer number of pregnant women on Prospect place also made it difficult. Each was at a similar stage of pregnancy and each was also having a son due within a two month period of each other.
Evelyn Taylor, 34, lives next door to Erin and Eric at 316 and moved in a month prior. She had laid claim to the name Gabriel weeks ago and is expected to go into labor at any minute with her due date so close. Despite this fact, Evelyn is standing next to her mower attempting to pull start the push mower in between waving to neighbors walking past. Her husband, Ron, is a traveling salesman fresh off a long route of sales and with a month of vacation beginning today. He's currently sleeping on the couch in the living room while his wife gladly does work outside ecstatic to have her husband back before she delivers.
Marissa James, 19, power walks out her front door across the street at 315 Prospect place. Marissa came into money from her parents when they passed in the tsunami that hit the great lakes region 3 years earlier in the height of the spate of worldwide weather headlines. She moved to the neighborhood after nearly 2 1/2 years of blindly drinking her way across the country with her then boyfriend, Tommy Tension (Tinsman), of the band Lickfinger. The band's trademark image ripped off from the Rolling Stones lips and tongue image could be seen peaking out from behind the spaghetti straps of her tank top. She had dumped him after the last tour after finding him with two groupies and a bong in the back of their van. After a night of arguing and a "fitting goodbye" as Marissa called it, she bought 315 and found out two weeks later that she was pregnant. Though she didn't speak to many in the neighborhood, word had spread that she too was having a boy and had taken to the name Nigel because "it would really piss Tommy off to have a son with a name like that."
There were 5 other women on Prospect place that were also pregnant not counting Jackie Bailey who lost her baby when she moved to South Bend when her husband, Ed, got transferred for his job. It happened almost as soon as they moved according to Jackie. The doctors tell her it was likely the stress of relocating so late in her pregnancy, but Jackie swears she stopped feeling her unborn son kick when they drove out of the neighborhood with the moving truck.
Eight women on the same block shared due dates with 58 days of each other and eight women had to fight over individual baby shower dates. Linda Butler's was coming up in a couple of days and Erin was thinking of a unique gift for her while lying peacefully on the hammock that day as Eric walked up and shut down the mower. He leaned in and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek.
"How is your new hammock working out for you, my dear?" The previous hammock had weight limits that Eric learned about when he tripped and landed heavily across the ropes. He wanted to be able to lie safely with his pregnant wife, so he had picked up a higher strength nylon brand. Erin joked that he was hinting at her increased girth.
"Good. I haven't broken it yet. I'll give you a shout if I hear it creaking on me." Eric loved to see her smile even if she was a bit self conscious about it. She had knocked a tooth loose while moving and it had settled somewhat crooked. Eric said it gave her the most genuine smile he had ever seen and he should know as a lawyer what a genuine smile looks like.
"Ha ha. That things is weight tested by rocket scientists at NASA for catch the space shuttle during re-entry. If you hear a creaking, I would suspect it's the trees coming down."
"That's cute. Stop teasing your pregnant wife and grab the paper in the driveway. I want to see if there are any sales on baby furniture for Linda. I drew the furniture gift paper for her shower and can't rely on a fresh pack of onesies this time." To even up the baby showers in the neighborhoods, each coming shower had a paper draw from a hat with a number of baby gift options so everyone spent a similar amount overall and no one felt cheated. Some of the women there could be very petty.
"As you command, my lady." With a grand bow, Eric wandered off to the front of the house for the paper. He was lucky he was cute because his sense of humor most of the time wasn't going to win him any awards.
With a thud, the paper landed next to her on the ground just out of reach.
"Very funny." She didn't see him from the front, but she knew the image of her struggling to get out of the hammock would send him running. She reached the paper before she saw him on the road talking to Jonathan Kine, the rich developer that owned the land and the big house on Keiser drive. She never quite trusted him after the shopping development fiasco forced her out of her first house in Spring Hill even if it couldn't have been his fault that the zoning committee failed him.
She was beginning to wonder again how someone with the money to buy such a large number of land plot could not afford to bribe an official or three to get proper zoning when the newspaper at her feet nearly made her collapse in a heap. With a sprint that would be considered quite adept for a college track star, Erin picked up the paper and bolted to the house screaming "Oh God" loud enough to bring Eric running along side her.
Erin nearly knocked Eric over with the screen door running to the kitchen counter knocking the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers to the ground. Erin snatched the phone and immediately started dialing the only phone number with an area code in Arizona she knew. She tossed the paper to the table and stared unblinking at the headline as the line rang in her ear before informing her the number she is attempting to reach has been disconnected. Eric studied his wife's face before he too noticed the headline, "Freak Flood wipes out Southwest" and realized what she was doing. "Bert!"
Eric didn't have any male role models in his family that he would consider naming the child after. His father had been one of the string of congressmen linked to the DC Madame prostitution ring as "Customer 10" on the list before congress a year back. He had no uncles and his grandfather had fled to Canada to avoid the draft into WWII which Eric did not fault him for, but he abandoned Eric's grandmother and father at the same time and never returned to the US once he found a new love in Saskatchewan.
Erin liked the names of Eric's father and grandfather, but Eric would not hear of being reminded of his family's past or force his child to live a life in their shadow and name. The name choices were also limited by Erin's refusal to name her son the same as any other children in the neighborhood. She feared the day when she asked if her son was somewhere by first name only and allowed her son to go missing for not asking for him beyond first name. The sheer number of pregnant women on Prospect place also made it difficult. Each was at a similar stage of pregnancy and each was also having a son due within a two month period of each other.
Evelyn Taylor, 34, lives next door to Erin and Eric at 316 and moved in a month prior. She had laid claim to the name Gabriel weeks ago and is expected to go into labor at any minute with her due date so close. Despite this fact, Evelyn is standing next to her mower attempting to pull start the push mower in between waving to neighbors walking past. Her husband, Ron, is a traveling salesman fresh off a long route of sales and with a month of vacation beginning today. He's currently sleeping on the couch in the living room while his wife gladly does work outside ecstatic to have her husband back before she delivers.
Marissa James, 19, power walks out her front door across the street at 315 Prospect place. Marissa came into money from her parents when they passed in the tsunami that hit the great lakes region 3 years earlier in the height of the spate of worldwide weather headlines. She moved to the neighborhood after nearly 2 1/2 years of blindly drinking her way across the country with her then boyfriend, Tommy Tension (Tinsman), of the band Lickfinger. The band's trademark image ripped off from the Rolling Stones lips and tongue image could be seen peaking out from behind the spaghetti straps of her tank top. She had dumped him after the last tour after finding him with two groupies and a bong in the back of their van. After a night of arguing and a "fitting goodbye" as Marissa called it, she bought 315 and found out two weeks later that she was pregnant. Though she didn't speak to many in the neighborhood, word had spread that she too was having a boy and had taken to the name Nigel because "it would really piss Tommy off to have a son with a name like that."
There were 5 other women on Prospect place that were also pregnant not counting Jackie Bailey who lost her baby when she moved to South Bend when her husband, Ed, got transferred for his job. It happened almost as soon as they moved according to Jackie. The doctors tell her it was likely the stress of relocating so late in her pregnancy, but Jackie swears she stopped feeling her unborn son kick when they drove out of the neighborhood with the moving truck.
Eight women on the same block shared due dates with 58 days of each other and eight women had to fight over individual baby shower dates. Linda Butler's was coming up in a couple of days and Erin was thinking of a unique gift for her while lying peacefully on the hammock that day as Eric walked up and shut down the mower. He leaned in and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek.
"How is your new hammock working out for you, my dear?" The previous hammock had weight limits that Eric learned about when he tripped and landed heavily across the ropes. He wanted to be able to lie safely with his pregnant wife, so he had picked up a higher strength nylon brand. Erin joked that he was hinting at her increased girth.
"Good. I haven't broken it yet. I'll give you a shout if I hear it creaking on me." Eric loved to see her smile even if she was a bit self conscious about it. She had knocked a tooth loose while moving and it had settled somewhat crooked. Eric said it gave her the most genuine smile he had ever seen and he should know as a lawyer what a genuine smile looks like.
"Ha ha. That things is weight tested by rocket scientists at NASA for catch the space shuttle during re-entry. If you hear a creaking, I would suspect it's the trees coming down."
"That's cute. Stop teasing your pregnant wife and grab the paper in the driveway. I want to see if there are any sales on baby furniture for Linda. I drew the furniture gift paper for her shower and can't rely on a fresh pack of onesies this time." To even up the baby showers in the neighborhoods, each coming shower had a paper draw from a hat with a number of baby gift options so everyone spent a similar amount overall and no one felt cheated. Some of the women there could be very petty.
"As you command, my lady." With a grand bow, Eric wandered off to the front of the house for the paper. He was lucky he was cute because his sense of humor most of the time wasn't going to win him any awards.
With a thud, the paper landed next to her on the ground just out of reach.
"Very funny." She didn't see him from the front, but she knew the image of her struggling to get out of the hammock would send him running. She reached the paper before she saw him on the road talking to Jonathan Kine, the rich developer that owned the land and the big house on Keiser drive. She never quite trusted him after the shopping development fiasco forced her out of her first house in Spring Hill even if it couldn't have been his fault that the zoning committee failed him.
She was beginning to wonder again how someone with the money to buy such a large number of land plot could not afford to bribe an official or three to get proper zoning when the newspaper at her feet nearly made her collapse in a heap. With a sprint that would be considered quite adept for a college track star, Erin picked up the paper and bolted to the house screaming "Oh God" loud enough to bring Eric running along side her.
Erin nearly knocked Eric over with the screen door running to the kitchen counter knocking the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers to the ground. Erin snatched the phone and immediately started dialing the only phone number with an area code in Arizona she knew. She tossed the paper to the table and stared unblinking at the headline as the line rang in her ear before informing her the number she is attempting to reach has been disconnected. Eric studied his wife's face before he too noticed the headline, "Freak Flood wipes out Southwest" and realized what she was doing. "Bert!"
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Up a flooded creek without a paddle
At 45 degrees, the water began to tighten the muscles in his chest as he struggled weakly at his modified dog paddle. The term flash flood is used to alert residents to the potential for low-lying areas to be overcome with rain water that falls to quickly to be absorbed by the ground causing rising levels of flood waters.
Bert Erinson lived in a town in Arizona called Quartzsite between Phoenix and the California border. The chance of a flash flood was not taken seriously in this desert-land town. Even forecasts of rain were considered similar to bigfoot sightings. News reports had come in from Prescott that Chino Valley and Prescott Valley had experienced unusual weather patterns in the past few days, but so is the life of a valley town in some mountain ranges in the west. It was not unheard of for a valley town to have days of 80 degree sun baking weather to be hit in the middle of the night by snow fall from winds coming off the mountains.
Bert had moved back to Arizona after things back in the neighborhood in western Indiana near Terre Haute. He had lived there with his wife Erin for twelve years before Jonathan moved in and began buying up property. He and Erin had shopped feverishly when they were first married for what would be their first house together before deciding to buy into the Mayfair Meadows land development deal. They purchased a model home with two bathrooms and four bedrooms including a 2 car garage and a 1000 square foot kitchen with a built-in breakfast bar. It was a good sized home for a first home and they got such a deal, they never thought twice about the deal. They couldn't pass it up even if they did not own the land they lived on just like the rest of their neighbors.
After two years of marriage and multiple decor changes, Jonathan Kine from GEB Investments suddenly knocks on the door and offers the couple a half million dollars for their home. His firm was investing in building a large shopping complex south of Terre Haute and not far from the populous in the Rea Park Golf Course area with the majority of the money. He gives them 30 days to decide or be evicted since his investment company owns the actual plot of land under the house. The offer of money is being given to all of the home owners in the development as a sign of good faith and to keep angry headlines from dulling the shine on the potential money making venture.
Erin was set against selling and was prepared to retain a lawyer when Bert pushed her to reconsider. With the amount of money being offered, they could buy a larger home in one of the other suburbs, Bert argues.
"Emotions aside, a first home is a starter home," Bert said. "We've come to appreciate what it's like to live together and the small quarrels we have while trying to keep up payments on our mortgage. Isn't it time to 'move on up to the east side' as it were? We could live near the golf course and our finances could go towards only the extravagances we want instead of concerning ourselves with paying the bills. We could be free to live carefree the we we've always wanted. Just you and me hanging out by a nice pool. We could play some golf and take vacations whenever we want to."
"Or we could stay here and have a home that we earned for ourselves over years of school and career moves to bring us to where we are today. I don't want those carefree days as you call them. They were empty times. I want to move on. I want to grow up. I want to pay bills and work hard to support children. Plan for our future. If we have time to golf on occasion, we can do that, but I like my life of responsibility."
"That's a bit selfish. We have a unique opportunity and I'm going to take it. I don't want to pull rank on this call, but I am the primary on our mortgage since you were still finishing up school and had no income to support the mortgage. Start looking into a set of clubs, because we are going to accept that man's offer."
"That doesn't sound like the man I want to spend my life with or raise a family with. What happened to the guy that just wanted to finish his degree, start a life with me and enjoy the simple things. Why does the offer of money have to change all of that?"
"That guy in college was on a scholarship. He didn't have loans to worry about after school and didn't realize how slow promotions come in business around here. He thought he would have it easier than we do. Right now, you are the only part of this family I want to worry about."
"What do you mean by that?" Erin grasped for the stairway railing behind her dramatically. Bert thought she was being over-dramatic to guilt him into giving in to her. Her tone had begun to waver a bit like it did when she was getting angry with him. A tone he had grown to recognize far to often in their struggle to make ends meet in far too many months over the past few years.
"I mean that this is not the time to consider children. If we can't discuss this house sale business rationally, how can I consider having a child with you. In fact, I'm not that crazy about the idea of adding diapers and clothes they will outgrow in a matter of months to our already fleeting cash flow. So forget children." His relationship had blossomed on a different set of three words. These three would throw the rest of them away.
Erin walked out of the house slamming the door behind her. She would not return until late that night. That would be the last night they slept in the same bed much less the same bedroom. Erin did eventually retain that lawyer but in the arena of divorce. She was against the idea of the sale, but was entitled to half of the outcome after Bert had forced her from a home she had grown to love for money.
A few months after the divorce was finalized, Bert gave up his studio apartment in Terre Haute, as he was transferred to the Phoenix office. Due to the amount of travel now required between his office in Phoenix and a major client site in Palm Springs, Bert bought a small house in Quartzsite roughly half way between each city. His one bedroom one bathroom ranch style home was enough for what it was to him. A storage space for a bed and clothing. He ate on the road every meal now. His refrigerator had become a cold box for storing rancid milk and bad lunch meats.
Erin contacted him a year ago today about her new life. She still lived in Spring Hill and had even bought a house from Jonathan Kine in a new development he called the Lincoln Estates. After 8 years as a divorcee, Bert was now acutely aware that the business world in Indiana had caused him stress in his marriage and forced him to try and accept a money laden deal that ended up being pointless for the developer and investment firm. A couple days after he and Erin each moved to their respective home after the divorce, she called him to let him know they were tearing down the house on Wednesday and wanted to know if he would come with her to watch it happen. She hoped it would be cathartic, but they ended up arguing the entire time.
The shopping mall plans that had forced them from their home had never come to fruition. The zoning fell through and GEB ended up scrapping those plans and redeveloping the area into multiple small streets ending in cul de sacs formed like the spokes of a wheel with a large community building joining each of the street ends to join the home owners into one large community. His plan would double the number of people living in Spring Hill and maybe even bring better schools into the area for her future children. This was how she told him she had remarried and was pregnant.
Erin had begun dating her divorce attorney after Bert moved away and, as it turns out, the lawyer had also worked with Jonathan Kine on his zoning troubles. Thanks to his efforts, Eric Shine, had acquired one of the new homes in the new development for cheap and asked Erin to marry him when he brought her to see his new home.
They had been married a year when Erin called Bert and were now pregnant. She was on leave from her job at the university while she prepared for the birth of a son. She said it had all happened so fast and things were going so well for both of them now. She had let go of her resentment for how she and Bert had parted and wanted to wish him the best in his life. It was unfortunate the Bert's life was not going well, but he wasn't about to let her know how miserable he was. She may have let go of the resentment, but he had not.
He was prepared to explain how his life was now everything he had always wanted it to be hoping to end his sentences with things like "now that I don't have to support you" or "now that I don't have your negative attitude keeping me down", but was interrupted by a knock at Erin's door by another pregnant neighbor. She let him go and asked him to call her back sometime and to keep in touch. he would do neither before the news reports began coming in of the earthquakes in Mexico that sheared the peninsula including Cancun, where they had honeymooned, into the gulf. They estimated 30,000 to 40,000 people died and many were pulled under when the land mass sunk by a vortex effect by the suddenness of the sinking.
Two months later, electric generators in London exploded across the country leaving a million people without power. one month later, the power was still not repaired when the markets in Hong Kong shut down abruptly due to a sudden explosion somewhere underground that caused an aeration effect sinking much of Hong Kong's marketplace under a 1000 feet of dirt and soot.
Bert ran through some of these well known stories now as he struggled to keep his chin above water with his toes perched cautiously on the roof of his now submerged home in Quartzsite.
Bert Erinson lived in a town in Arizona called Quartzsite between Phoenix and the California border. The chance of a flash flood was not taken seriously in this desert-land town. Even forecasts of rain were considered similar to bigfoot sightings. News reports had come in from Prescott that Chino Valley and Prescott Valley had experienced unusual weather patterns in the past few days, but so is the life of a valley town in some mountain ranges in the west. It was not unheard of for a valley town to have days of 80 degree sun baking weather to be hit in the middle of the night by snow fall from winds coming off the mountains.
Bert had moved back to Arizona after things back in the neighborhood in western Indiana near Terre Haute. He had lived there with his wife Erin for twelve years before Jonathan moved in and began buying up property. He and Erin had shopped feverishly when they were first married for what would be their first house together before deciding to buy into the Mayfair Meadows land development deal. They purchased a model home with two bathrooms and four bedrooms including a 2 car garage and a 1000 square foot kitchen with a built-in breakfast bar. It was a good sized home for a first home and they got such a deal, they never thought twice about the deal. They couldn't pass it up even if they did not own the land they lived on just like the rest of their neighbors.
After two years of marriage and multiple decor changes, Jonathan Kine from GEB Investments suddenly knocks on the door and offers the couple a half million dollars for their home. His firm was investing in building a large shopping complex south of Terre Haute and not far from the populous in the Rea Park Golf Course area with the majority of the money. He gives them 30 days to decide or be evicted since his investment company owns the actual plot of land under the house. The offer of money is being given to all of the home owners in the development as a sign of good faith and to keep angry headlines from dulling the shine on the potential money making venture.
Erin was set against selling and was prepared to retain a lawyer when Bert pushed her to reconsider. With the amount of money being offered, they could buy a larger home in one of the other suburbs, Bert argues.
"Emotions aside, a first home is a starter home," Bert said. "We've come to appreciate what it's like to live together and the small quarrels we have while trying to keep up payments on our mortgage. Isn't it time to 'move on up to the east side' as it were? We could live near the golf course and our finances could go towards only the extravagances we want instead of concerning ourselves with paying the bills. We could be free to live carefree the we we've always wanted. Just you and me hanging out by a nice pool. We could play some golf and take vacations whenever we want to."
"Or we could stay here and have a home that we earned for ourselves over years of school and career moves to bring us to where we are today. I don't want those carefree days as you call them. They were empty times. I want to move on. I want to grow up. I want to pay bills and work hard to support children. Plan for our future. If we have time to golf on occasion, we can do that, but I like my life of responsibility."
"That's a bit selfish. We have a unique opportunity and I'm going to take it. I don't want to pull rank on this call, but I am the primary on our mortgage since you were still finishing up school and had no income to support the mortgage. Start looking into a set of clubs, because we are going to accept that man's offer."
"That doesn't sound like the man I want to spend my life with or raise a family with. What happened to the guy that just wanted to finish his degree, start a life with me and enjoy the simple things. Why does the offer of money have to change all of that?"
"That guy in college was on a scholarship. He didn't have loans to worry about after school and didn't realize how slow promotions come in business around here. He thought he would have it easier than we do. Right now, you are the only part of this family I want to worry about."
"What do you mean by that?" Erin grasped for the stairway railing behind her dramatically. Bert thought she was being over-dramatic to guilt him into giving in to her. Her tone had begun to waver a bit like it did when she was getting angry with him. A tone he had grown to recognize far to often in their struggle to make ends meet in far too many months over the past few years.
"I mean that this is not the time to consider children. If we can't discuss this house sale business rationally, how can I consider having a child with you. In fact, I'm not that crazy about the idea of adding diapers and clothes they will outgrow in a matter of months to our already fleeting cash flow. So forget children." His relationship had blossomed on a different set of three words. These three would throw the rest of them away.
Erin walked out of the house slamming the door behind her. She would not return until late that night. That would be the last night they slept in the same bed much less the same bedroom. Erin did eventually retain that lawyer but in the arena of divorce. She was against the idea of the sale, but was entitled to half of the outcome after Bert had forced her from a home she had grown to love for money.
A few months after the divorce was finalized, Bert gave up his studio apartment in Terre Haute, as he was transferred to the Phoenix office. Due to the amount of travel now required between his office in Phoenix and a major client site in Palm Springs, Bert bought a small house in Quartzsite roughly half way between each city. His one bedroom one bathroom ranch style home was enough for what it was to him. A storage space for a bed and clothing. He ate on the road every meal now. His refrigerator had become a cold box for storing rancid milk and bad lunch meats.
Erin contacted him a year ago today about her new life. She still lived in Spring Hill and had even bought a house from Jonathan Kine in a new development he called the Lincoln Estates. After 8 years as a divorcee, Bert was now acutely aware that the business world in Indiana had caused him stress in his marriage and forced him to try and accept a money laden deal that ended up being pointless for the developer and investment firm. A couple days after he and Erin each moved to their respective home after the divorce, she called him to let him know they were tearing down the house on Wednesday and wanted to know if he would come with her to watch it happen. She hoped it would be cathartic, but they ended up arguing the entire time.
The shopping mall plans that had forced them from their home had never come to fruition. The zoning fell through and GEB ended up scrapping those plans and redeveloping the area into multiple small streets ending in cul de sacs formed like the spokes of a wheel with a large community building joining each of the street ends to join the home owners into one large community. His plan would double the number of people living in Spring Hill and maybe even bring better schools into the area for her future children. This was how she told him she had remarried and was pregnant.
Erin had begun dating her divorce attorney after Bert moved away and, as it turns out, the lawyer had also worked with Jonathan Kine on his zoning troubles. Thanks to his efforts, Eric Shine, had acquired one of the new homes in the new development for cheap and asked Erin to marry him when he brought her to see his new home.
They had been married a year when Erin called Bert and were now pregnant. She was on leave from her job at the university while she prepared for the birth of a son. She said it had all happened so fast and things were going so well for both of them now. She had let go of her resentment for how she and Bert had parted and wanted to wish him the best in his life. It was unfortunate the Bert's life was not going well, but he wasn't about to let her know how miserable he was. She may have let go of the resentment, but he had not.
He was prepared to explain how his life was now everything he had always wanted it to be hoping to end his sentences with things like "now that I don't have to support you" or "now that I don't have your negative attitude keeping me down", but was interrupted by a knock at Erin's door by another pregnant neighbor. She let him go and asked him to call her back sometime and to keep in touch. he would do neither before the news reports began coming in of the earthquakes in Mexico that sheared the peninsula including Cancun, where they had honeymooned, into the gulf. They estimated 30,000 to 40,000 people died and many were pulled under when the land mass sunk by a vortex effect by the suddenness of the sinking.
Two months later, electric generators in London exploded across the country leaving a million people without power. one month later, the power was still not repaired when the markets in Hong Kong shut down abruptly due to a sudden explosion somewhere underground that caused an aeration effect sinking much of Hong Kong's marketplace under a 1000 feet of dirt and soot.
Bert ran through some of these well known stories now as he struggled to keep his chin above water with his toes perched cautiously on the roof of his now submerged home in Quartzsite.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Over the river and through the woods
The ivy managed to elude the typical distinguished appearance on the cabin in the woods. The fact that the green vines were interwoven in the logs like some rotting wicker basket gave Tim doubts as to his choice of a weekend getaway. If this house managed to stay standing after he finished knocking on the door, Tim would be amazed. The ad didn't call it a unique fixer upper or anything as cliche as all that. Rustic was the word used and adventurous was the type of person this place called for in the ad. Now he knew why.
Standing on the porch, he though he heard footsteps coming to answer the door, but they were too far apart and each striking thud made the house shake more and more. The porch shingles were beginning to slide off and hit the ground next to his Nissan. He loved that thing, but the appearance of the roof over his head falling apart did not send him running to save his car. However, it did leave him running.
Off the porch, Tim saw the sound was exaggerated by the woodwork and wasn't as severe as initially thought. Something was still pretty consistently striking the building and hadn't stopped. Around the side, Tim could see the far end of a clay basketball court. Expecting to find someone shooting at the near basket, he rounded the corner to find young boy tossing a basketball at the roof of the house. Near each strike but quickly fleeing was an orange cat.
"Do you realize this house could fall apart if you keep throwing that thing? It's barely standing in the light breeze already."
The boy appeared unsurprised and continued throwing the ball at the cat like some sick game of dodgeball. "I know. The roof collapsed last night killing Mr. Milson. They're talking about condemning it anyways which is why I'm trying to get Fantam off the roof. Last thing I need is my sister losing a cat that's too stupid to see this house is falling apart."
Another toss finally struck it's mark, but the cat didn't slide down the roof, but instead launched itself towards the other side and landing in the recently collapsed section judging by the sound.
"Oh crap. Missy going to kill me. I was supposed to look after her cat for the afternoon."
Tim sighed as he decided to make this his last action here before calling off his vacation in the woods and heading home. "Let's go see if the front door is unlocked."
The kid smiled and dropped the basketball next to the pole. They walked together around the front. Tim was a bit more hesitant than this kid, but he stepped up quickly when the kid tried to climb onto the porch across a railing as it gave way.
"Careful, kid! This wood looks like it's been rotted through for years. Can't you just walk around the front of the porch like a normal person?"
"It's Eddie. Don't call me kid." Unfazed, Eddie swung himself around the front post of the porch as a beam on the far end fell from the roof. Tim stopped cold outside of the frame of the house as Eddie barged through the screen door and kicked the front door in like a SWAT team on TV.
"Come out now, Fantam. We have the place surrounde..." His voice trailed off. He must have found the cat dead, Tim thought.
Through the door, Tim stepped cautiously over the threshold sure there would be unprotected nails ready to stab through his shoes. There in front of Eddie was the cat sitting on top of the collapsed roof boards licking the face of an old man crushed beneath the boards. Mr Milson, I presume, thought Tim. Nothing seemed to be surprising him anymore in this place after just a short time. This kid was odd as it was, but the body should have at least turned his stomach.
"I thought you said Mr. Milson was already found and taken out of here." Tim was a little confused if maybe the police had acknowledged his death, but was still investigating the cause. Maybe they ran out of police tape and took their chances that no one would touch the place. It appeared as if it had been untouched in the past 5 to 10 years as it was.
"That's not, Mr. Milson. That's Joe Thomas from next door. He's in the same place as Mr. Milson was last night, but he looks different. I found Mr. Milson when Fantam ran off yesterday in this area. He wasn't bleeding like that though."
Time looked more closely at the body and found there was a lot of blood coming from the chest of the body. He leaned down to move the boards a bit and dropped them quickly when he saw the five gunshot wound to the chest.
Damn it! There's no way I'm getting out of here now, Tim thought. The police will want a statement. "Let's go call the police, kid."
Tim hears a click as he turns for the door. "I told you not the call me kid." A flash of heat seems to beat the sound of the gunshot as Tim crumbles in a ball. Adventurous, my ass! These were Tim's last thoughts before he passed out.
Standing on the porch, he though he heard footsteps coming to answer the door, but they were too far apart and each striking thud made the house shake more and more. The porch shingles were beginning to slide off and hit the ground next to his Nissan. He loved that thing, but the appearance of the roof over his head falling apart did not send him running to save his car. However, it did leave him running.
Off the porch, Tim saw the sound was exaggerated by the woodwork and wasn't as severe as initially thought. Something was still pretty consistently striking the building and hadn't stopped. Around the side, Tim could see the far end of a clay basketball court. Expecting to find someone shooting at the near basket, he rounded the corner to find young boy tossing a basketball at the roof of the house. Near each strike but quickly fleeing was an orange cat.
"Do you realize this house could fall apart if you keep throwing that thing? It's barely standing in the light breeze already."
The boy appeared unsurprised and continued throwing the ball at the cat like some sick game of dodgeball. "I know. The roof collapsed last night killing Mr. Milson. They're talking about condemning it anyways which is why I'm trying to get Fantam off the roof. Last thing I need is my sister losing a cat that's too stupid to see this house is falling apart."
Another toss finally struck it's mark, but the cat didn't slide down the roof, but instead launched itself towards the other side and landing in the recently collapsed section judging by the sound.
"Oh crap. Missy going to kill me. I was supposed to look after her cat for the afternoon."
Tim sighed as he decided to make this his last action here before calling off his vacation in the woods and heading home. "Let's go see if the front door is unlocked."
The kid smiled and dropped the basketball next to the pole. They walked together around the front. Tim was a bit more hesitant than this kid, but he stepped up quickly when the kid tried to climb onto the porch across a railing as it gave way.
"Careful, kid! This wood looks like it's been rotted through for years. Can't you just walk around the front of the porch like a normal person?"
"It's Eddie. Don't call me kid." Unfazed, Eddie swung himself around the front post of the porch as a beam on the far end fell from the roof. Tim stopped cold outside of the frame of the house as Eddie barged through the screen door and kicked the front door in like a SWAT team on TV.
"Come out now, Fantam. We have the place surrounde..." His voice trailed off. He must have found the cat dead, Tim thought.
Through the door, Tim stepped cautiously over the threshold sure there would be unprotected nails ready to stab through his shoes. There in front of Eddie was the cat sitting on top of the collapsed roof boards licking the face of an old man crushed beneath the boards. Mr Milson, I presume, thought Tim. Nothing seemed to be surprising him anymore in this place after just a short time. This kid was odd as it was, but the body should have at least turned his stomach.
"I thought you said Mr. Milson was already found and taken out of here." Tim was a little confused if maybe the police had acknowledged his death, but was still investigating the cause. Maybe they ran out of police tape and took their chances that no one would touch the place. It appeared as if it had been untouched in the past 5 to 10 years as it was.
"That's not, Mr. Milson. That's Joe Thomas from next door. He's in the same place as Mr. Milson was last night, but he looks different. I found Mr. Milson when Fantam ran off yesterday in this area. He wasn't bleeding like that though."
Time looked more closely at the body and found there was a lot of blood coming from the chest of the body. He leaned down to move the boards a bit and dropped them quickly when he saw the five gunshot wound to the chest.
Damn it! There's no way I'm getting out of here now, Tim thought. The police will want a statement. "Let's go call the police, kid."
Tim hears a click as he turns for the door. "I told you not the call me kid." A flash of heat seems to beat the sound of the gunshot as Tim crumbles in a ball. Adventurous, my ass! These were Tim's last thoughts before he passed out.
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