Sunday, November 23, 2014

At The end of the Day Book 2 Chapter 3

Wendy sat in Henry’s car for what seemed like several minutes. She was too tired to think about what she would do with the car in the morning which was not so far off at this point. She turned the ignition to off, pulled the keys from the console and walked inside her home.

Pamela woke up with a hangover. She lay in her bed, checking her Facebook, Instagram and Tumblr accounts. She texted her friends to let them know she was home and she texted her father to let him know that she wanted to see him. She stood up, walked to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, took two advils and went back to her room.

Michael was on his 2nd Mile and was about to run back when he noticed his father’s car parked outside of a house on Blue Street. He wanted to knock on the door but when he saw the door opening he stopped. What seemed like a mother and daughter walked out and went in to his dad’s car and drove away. He watched as they drove away and wondered if his father was staying there. He walked to knock on the door but there was no response. Tentatively he rang the bell and then he heard footsteps walking towards the door. The door opened.

Henry threw his phone in the water, checked his wallet to make sure he had his credit cards and drivers license. He walked towards the train station and got there just as a train was pulling in. He went to the machine to buy a ticket and bought one for New York City. He thought he caught a glance of Pamela but it couldn’t be her and when he went to look again there was no one there. He sat by a window on an empty car and closed his eyes. Three hour ride to Penn Station in New York City. Just an idea about taking a hotel room for a night and sleeping. Then he would pull out cash from his bank account and buy a ticket somewhere hot. He gave his ticket to the conductor and then closed his eyes again. When he opened them again the train was pulling into Penn Station. It felt as if he had just closed his eyes but 3 hours had passed. He thought to himself, “Still alive. Tired but I am still alive.” He walked up the stairs to 7th Avenue and waited on line for a cab. While he was on line he decided to go to the Plaza Hotel. The cab got him there in 15 minutes and at 830 in the morning on a weekday that was quite an accomplishment. His nausea confirmed that the driver had driven quickly and recklessly. But he didn’t care – what was the worst that could happen? He walked up the stairs and into the Plaza, veered right towards the reception area and got himself a room. “One key please.” He replied. The desk clerk smiled, “If there is anything I can do for you to make your stay comfortable, my name is Juan and you can reach me by calling the front desk.” “Thank you, Juan.” He took the elevator to his room, opened the door and was upset that the room was so small for the amount of money he was paying. “Its just for one night anyway.” He went to lay down and couldn’t sleep. Went downstairs, got a cup of coffee and went to do some clothes shopping. “We are now accepting all passengers on Jet Blue flight 757 going to Aruba…” He stood up with his carry on and walked onto the plane. Found his seat, 11A, sat down and waited to take off.

Wendy was going to Starbucks to meet her friend, Kathy while her daughter, Janice, was at school. She was still in a daze about Henry and had tried calling him several times but it just went to voice mail.

Michael and Pamela were sitting drinking coffee at Starbucks and trying to figure out what their next move was.

“I want to be with him Mike, I don’t want him to think he is alone.”

“Well, we should have thought about that when we spoke to him.”

“Yeah well its been a while since the real Dad has be present.”

“That’s not his fault and we should have realized that instead of acting like -”

“What? ‘children?’ we were children.” The door opened up and in walked Wendy – Michael recognized her from that morning when she walked out of the house where his father’s car was parked.

“That’s the lady I saw this morning coming out of the house where dad’s car was parked.”

“Let’s go talk to her.”

Later on that day Henry’s flight landed in Aruba and he took a cab to the Ritz Carlton where he had booked a room the night before. The room was not ready yet so he walked to the bar and ordered a rum and coke.




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Sunday, November 16, 2014

At The End of the Day Book 2 chapter 2

Michael walked up the stairs towards the entrance to the Train station. It was around ten oclock and he still had enough time to buy a ticket, get something to eat and to meet Pamela.

Michael was almost six feet tall, with a boyish face and an uneven beard. His hair was covered by a baseball cap and his eyes were brown. His coat was a black pee coat and his dark jeans ended with leather boots he had bought at a flea market near his campus.

He had a satchel across his chest which carried his laptop and in his hand was a Duffel bag with his clothing. He had the kind of face and build most men wanted to have for themselves and most women wanted for their men. He was an average student who was an artsy type. Some called him a loner others called him a snob. He was guilty of both since he preferred himself over others and found most of his contemporaries boring and predictable. He had a group of friends who were good companions and added levity and intellectual conversations to the mix.

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He walked up the stairs, walked through the doorway and into the booming station.

“The 1033 train to Washington DC with stops in…”

He stopped, put down his duffel and went to text his sister.
“Hey pretty boy.” He jumped. It was Pam. They embraced and she spoke in a soft voice.

“How you doing?” He smiled.

“Well, someone I once knew and loved who I thought had died a while ago – has suddenly been diagnosed with an actual life ending sickness.”
She looked at the ground and spoke.
“I feel so guilty now. I feel like the time when he needed us we deserted him. But we were so young…”
“Don’t blame us – lets face it mom kind of destroyed his spirit, emasculated him in front of us.”
“I know but I was so uncaring when he called me…”
“So was I. That is why I realized we needed to go home and be there for him.”

The train rolled into the station at close to five o’clock – the sun had yet to rise so the darkness of the station was broken up by a line of street lights. There were several taxi’s lined up waiting for fares and a couple of pedestrian drivers waiting for their friends or family. One of those cars was driven by their mother.

She ran up to them and gave them both over dramatic hugs and tears. They both let her perform and just went into the car.




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Thursday, November 13, 2014

At the End of the Day – Book Two

Pamela


She pushed the cigarette into the cereal bowl, push the bowl to the side, put her head down on the table and closed her eyes. She had barely slept the previous night having spent the first four hours at the Tavern and the rest of the night at a Frat party. She drank way too much, smoked too much and ended up waking up with “whats his name” laying next to her on the floor of her friend’s dormroom.

She wasn’t sure anything had happened with “whats his name” and didnt even want to think about it. She had a mid-term running towards her in an hour and needed to somehow uninebriate herself.

Her phone vibrated; it was Michael, her brother.

“Hey Mikey.” She answered.
“I am going back home to see dad.”
“Ugh, when?”
“Tonight after my last class. There is a train leaving at eleven and I pull into the station at five. Do you want to meet me and ride in together?”
“I don’t know – I will call you back after this mid-term.” She didn’t bother saying goodbye just hit the red “end” button.

She knew what the right thing to do was, she knew her bitch mother was probably not shedding a tear and was probably with Frank or Bob or whoever. Her father had been become almost a non-presence in the house since he caught her sleeping with his boss six years ago this Christmas. He seemed to be blaming the kids for his wife’s infidelity as if we had a hand in it.

That Christmas he walked out of the house and walked around town for several hours while Mikey and Pam cried and their mother stayed locked in her room. They were 12 years old then – twins – and that is the year that Christmas went from the most exciting day of the year to the worst day of their lives.

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She walked around the college perimeter, smoked several cigarettes, drank vodka from a flask and cried. She never went to take the test, didnt see the point. All she kept replaying in her mind was her father sounding disappointed when she told him she could not come home.

She remembered the way he used to be, how her family used to be before that Christmas. It was as if he was a balloon and her mother punctured a hole – he began to fall and fall until he was just a shadow of who he once was.

Its been over 6 years now and she is still waiting for that man to surprise her – to love her as he once did before.

Mikey feels it, she knows that for a fact.

They never understood why their father would stay in that house of cards while their mother would be rocking and shaking its foundation.

She went to grab another cigarette but her pack was empty.

She went to drink some vodka but the flask was empty.

She went to call Mikey and tell him that she would meet him at the station – but her phones battery was dead.

She thought to herself that she still had time – then remembered her father ‘s time was running out and there was nothing she could do about it.

So she ran back to her dorm, jumped into the shower, packed a bag, called her brother and headed out to the train station.

With nothing but time on her mind.




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Friday, November 07, 2014

Bill, Jack and Abe

The tall man placed his hat on the table by the backdoor. Rubbed his hands together to warm them from the

cold, turned the kettle into a cup that was left on the counter – sipped it and felt the warm coffee flow down his throat.
In walked Bill with his notepad in hand and pen behind his ear. He smiled at Abe and sat by the table.

“Love this hat Abraham.” He chuckled.

“Well thank you kindly.” Abe replied as he swept it away suspiciously. “Don’t think I have disposed of the memory of the last time you complimented my stovepipe.”

In came Jack laughing, “How can anyone forget that!”

“Oh great here he is ‘three initial man.’ Hey Jack, how are the crops shaping up?”

“Oh you should come out with me for dinner Abe, I am having dinner with three shapely crops tonight at Maxwell’s Plum.”

“I am fine, take this bard with you so that he can stop writing and live a bit.”

“Come on Abe you act as if you are scared of the women or maybe you are just scared of the possibility of feeling a sense of that strange and alien emotion you seem to be allergic to – happiness.”

“I am not a coward, gentlemen.”

“A most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality.”

“Here he goes again quoting himself.”

“The whole world, for over 500 years have been misquoting me or quoting me at the most inappropriate moments. Scenes of stupidity being played on stages at every second of the day. I, dear sir, have an unlimited license to quote myself at any moment.”

“Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed, is more important than any other one thing.” Lincoln responded.

“I know that…you said that in some letter to another. So now you are quoting yourself?”

“As Bill over here stated – I have been quoted, misquoted and my words contorted in order to rationalize acts of evil, acts of stupidity or acts of callousness. I may as well quote myself even if it is permissible by you three initial man.”

“Jack, I don’t feel like going tonight and I feel it is my choice to make.”

“A man does what he must – in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures – and that is the basis of all human morality.”

Silence.

“What, I can’t quote myself?”




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