Digital Manipulation - New to Old

I have this image scheduled for August 1 on my Project 365 blog on Wordpress, but am posting over here so you can see an example of what I was talking about in my comments the other day.

This shot was taken with the Nikon L16 – f2.8, 1/218 sec, ISO-64, 6mm fl.

For this image of an old rail trestle, I did a little post-exposure manipulation to give the image a ‘vintage’ feel to it.

I de-saturated the image to remove the color, added some sepia and pushed the contrast.  I then ‘brightened’ the image just a bit.  I am rather pleased with the result.  It took me about 30 minutes on this one.  I had to clean up some 'speckling' the different processes left behind.

Here is the before shot - 

~*~

© 2012 – Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw.  All Rights Reserved.

The Story Of A Girl - Excerpt

This is an excerpt from my novel - The Story Of A Girl - for the 2011 National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) competition .  Entrants have only 30 days to write 50,000 words.  Once the competition closes, we go back and edit... edit... edit... edit... and then, edit some more!  

Please bear in mind that this is only the second draft and still has a lot of word that needs done.  Please feel free to comment below.  Thank you.

~*~

The dark-haired girl sat down at the desk, and reaching out, pulled the small gold chain on the desk lamp, illuminating the dark, smooth surface of the 18th century piece.  She opened the notebook before her, and picking up pen... began to write.

~~**~~

THE STORY OF A GIRL

By Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw

~~**~~

PROLOGUE

Summer 1990 – Hilton Head Island, South Carolina

The petite, dark-haired girl gazed out the picture window at the tide-swept expanse of beach fronting her family’s summer home.  The sandy vista before her was as smooth and unblemished as the window she looked out of now; save for a small mound that had been the sand castle she and her papa had built the evening before.  The girl turned to the man standing at her side, her upturned face filled with sadness and her dark, liquid eyes brimming with tears.

“Papai?  Nosso castelo é ido, Papai?”  Her tiny voice trembled with disbelief and sorrow.  Her father knelt in front of her, his strong hands gently brushing the girl’s long, dark hair from her face.

“Nós faremos outro castelo, minha princesa pequena… Eu prometo.”  His deep, voice sought to comfort the five-year old.  She leaned into his shoulder, wrapping her small arms around his neck.  A sob shuddered through her tiny frame.

Across the room, the girl’s mother watched the tableau before her.  The sad look on her face mirrored that of the girl’s.  As she stood silently, watching the two people she loved more than anything else in the world… her heart broke a little bit.  The words of a poem came to her…

Castles in the sand.

Seasons out of time.

Let my heart take your sorrow.

Gain strength from me… as I from you,

Together… our wondrous journey through this land.

Chasing the moon… following the sun… time in time.

Where all our yesterdays hold only promise for tomorrow.

Hearts and souls entwined… our love… forever true.

~~**~~

March 13, 2007 – Dr. Kay’s Office-Downtown Portland

“I don’t know… I don’t fucking know!  Do you get that?”  My voice has risen to a shout… almost screaming… my face is hot… tears streaming down my cheeks.  Through my blurred vision, I see my tormentor… seated in her chair… calm… serene… ever-present notebook in her lap.  Dr. Kay Underhill, M.D., Ph.D, Psy.D, and a few other letters of the alphabet after her name… both my tormentor and my savior.  Right now… the former.

~~***~~

I first began seeing Dr. Kay Underhill the second week I was in Portland; this was at Tina’s insistence.  At first, I was very resistant to her request, having had a bellyful of therapists and incompetent, judgmental (one so-called professional actually believed that lesbians ‘asked to be raped, by the choice they made about their sexual preference’) social workers - who if anything, had set me back - back in Boston, where I had ended up after Dr Craig ‘smuggled’ me out of the hospital and away from the authorities.  He had heard and believed enough of my story to understand that what I needed was the kind of professional help that I was not going to get in police custody.  Dr. Craig (not his real name) risked his career to help a stranger, believing that justice delayed did not mean justice denied.  He will forever have my gratitude.

Initially, I went to Dr Underhill only because I had made a promise to Tina that I would get help.  We both had the sense to realize that we were not going to be able to ‘fix’ me completely… that I needed professional help… caring, professional help.  Dr. Kay Underhill has a reputation exceeded by few of her peers.  Looking back, I realize that Dr. Kay, as she preferred to be called, ‘soft-balled’ me the first few of sessions.  But, if she hadn’t, I probably would not have continued seeing her.  I gained a lot of insight into her those early sessions, allowing me to open up to her and trust her; that she wanted to help me.  I owe my life as much to Dr. Kay as I do to Tina.

That doesn’t mean I always liked her.  Today is one of those days.

~~***~~

“Why do you keep asking me this… why?  You’re supposed to be helping me… this isn’t working… it isn’t working, damn it!  Oh god… I can’t do this… I can’t… please… please…”   The breath is gone from my lungs; there is nothing left to push the words out… my anguished voice fades to a whisper.  Exhausted; I fall back on the over-stuffed leather sofa, hunched over… my face in my hands… the hysteria of a few moments ago replaced now with quiet sobs.

Time passes… the tears stop… an occasional hitch in my chest as the anger and the fear slowly seep out of me.  Slow, steady breaths… let everything go, Veronica… just breathe… don’t think of anything else… Dr. Kay’s words come back to me… again.

More time passes… the only sounds in the room are Dr. Kay’s pen scratching on the lined pages of her notebook, my measured breathing, and the soft tick of the grandfather clock standing between the two floor-to-ceiling windows of Dr. Kay’s fifth floor downtown office.

“It’s been six months.  I still can’t…”  I stop… my voice choking… “I still… we tried again last night.  Everything was going so well.  A wonderful, romantic dinner… candlelight… Miles Davis on the stereo… wine in front of the fireplace… it felt like we were the only two people in the world.  The rain seemed to carry the sounds of the city away…human and machine noises floating along the curbs and down in to the storm drains… taking away all the sounds of humanity… save for the two of us.

God, every time I look into Tina’s eyes… every time she touches me… the scent and sound of her washes over me… I am almost over-whelmed at the love that I have for her… I love this woman so much!  And, I feel her love in everything she does… every word… every touch… her hand on my cheek… her kiss… her smile.  From the very first moment, there has never been a doubt.  So, why can’t I…”

The tears threaten to start again.  I look up at Dr. Kay.  She looks back at me… I see warmth and compassion in her eyes, not the clinical detachment of the therapist who had been ‘treating’ me back in Boston.

“Veronica…  there are very few people who could even begin to comprehend the ordeal that you have been through; the physical and emotional suffering.  You still have the physical scars, and you will carry those for a long time.  But, they will go away… eventually.  What makes you think that your emotional scars are going to heal any quicker?  Do you think Christina does not understand this?  Do you think she does not know how much you love her?

What are you really afraid of, Veronica?  Why are we here today?”  Dr. Kay sits back in the big, overstuffed rocker-recliner, setting her pen and notebook down on the table beside the chair.  She crosses her legs, smoothing the knee-length grey wool skirt over her lap.  She waits… patiently.

The grandfather clock ticks its metronomic beat.  I look over at the tall windows… shades raised.  There is a reddish-orange hue in the western sky; the sun setting a little later each day as we approach the vernal equinox… Spring.

Spring… a time for new life… new beginnings… new hopes… new promises.  Next Tuesday is the first day of Spring.  The following day marks Tina’s and my six-month anniversary.  We have yet to fully consummate our relationship.  And that is why I am sitting here in Dr. Kay’s office, instead of at home, having dinner with the love of my life.  I turn back to Dr. Kay.

“I don’t know… I’m… I’m afraid…”  I stop again… and then, the words come in a rush, as if some great force were propelling them from my mouth.

“I’m afraid this is as far as I can go…the intimacy… my mind won’t let her in any further… and I’m afraid that Tina will see this as a lack of trust… despite everything I say… everything I do… how much I love her and trust her and everything… she will see this and think that I really do not… porque se eu realmente a amava e confiava nela a maneira que eu digo eu faço, eu poderia ... eu ... dou-me completamente a ela!”

In the rush to get the words out of my mouth before my brain can register what I am saying… what dark, secret fear I am giving up… and stop me; I have lapsed into Portuguese.  Dr. Kay says this is a defense mechanism.  She holds up her hand… fingers splayed.

“Veronica… slow down… shhh… shhh… slow down… in English… please.”  Her voice is calm.  In the six months that I have been seeing Dr. Kay, I don’t think I have ever heard her raise her voice.  My words trail off and almost without thinking about it, I begin taking slow, deep breaths… it has become a conditioned response in me.

We sit in silence for a few moments… my steady respirations bringing a calm back to me… her steady gaze holding me… the barest sliver of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“We tried again last night.”  I have been seeing Dr. Kay for six months, and I still can’t get past the euphemisms.  “To, you know…”  I falter, looking for the words.  I can’t say ‘make love’ or ‘have sex’, because we do those things… after a fashion.  But, there is an incompleteness… on my part, at least.

~~***~~

To put it bluntly, I couldn’t stand to have my quim touched, let alone penetrated.  Rape and repeated brutalization, along with everything else, tears away trust and intimacy.  And it can take a long time for the scars to heal enough to regain that intimacy… to be able to trust another.  Some women never do.

For a long time, my body was like a war zone, and Tina did her best to navigate around the minefields… to find some neutral territory upon which she could begin the long process of rebuilding the intimacy that two souls need to survive.

The first month we were together was the hardest… allowing the woman I had fallen hopelessly and completely in love with, to see my naked body… to see the scars… the ravages of the ordeal that almost claimed my life.  This was the woman who, without words… with only her hazel eyes gazing into the dark pools of mine, wrapped her love and compassion around my tortured soul, and began to heal it.

But before I would let Tina see me without my protective armour…. cotton and wool fibers woven into the thick, dark fabric of the clothes I had begun to favor increasingly after I had escaped my captors (this was another line of demarcation of my life before and after the ordeal… before – light, open, colorful, life-giving articles of wear… and, after – dark, thick, impenetrable garments)… we talked.  Or rather, I talked and Tina listened… for many long days and nights… as the story unfolded of my six month-long ordeal at the hands of two psychopaths… one of whom had been my boyfriend in high school.

~~***~~

November 1, 2011 PSU Campus, Starbucks

I put the coffee cup down on the table and look over atAlice… watching her… waiting for her reaction.  She has a slightly perplexed look on her delicate features.

“Wait a minute, Roni… where are we?  This isn’t the beginning.  I thought you were going to start with that last summer in St. Louis, before you went off to college?  Shouldn’t you start at the beginning?”

Tina’s baby sister Alice, now my sister-in-law, and I have ensconced ourselves in the two big over-stuffed armchairs in the back corner of the Montgomery Street Starbucks, on the PSU campus.  Alice is attending Portland State University and has an apartment on campus, in the same tower complex as the coffee shop we are sitting in now, as a matter of fact.  But… and not for the first time since the rains began this fall, the heat is out in Alice’s apartment, so we have availed ourselves of Tomas’ hospitality for the afternoon.

One of Alice’s classes is Creative Writing, and I promised to help her out with an assignment.  The best way I know… is to tell a story. Alice already knows most of what I am going to tell her today; and yet, I am still a little nervous at the prospect of baring my soul further; a little fearful that Alice will think different of me after this.  We have grown so close this last year and a half though; I think this is the right thing to do.  And, as Dr. Kay is fond of saying… “… Fear will not take you anywhere.”

“You’re right, Alice… this isn’t the beginning… it’s somewhere in the middle.  These are just the first words that came to me.   I can’t start at the beginning, dear.  If I do that, I will never finish the story, because I know what happens.  I need… I have to… I have to get back to that place… that time… the only way I know how.  You know me… a straight line between two points is never how this girl works.”  I raise the still warm cappuccino to my mouth, smiling over the top of the cup at my sister-in-law.

“Okay, I can understand that… I do the same thing sometimes.  So, this session with Dr. Kay that you were just telling me about… this was an important one, wasn’t it?”  I nod my head a little, and Alice continues.  “I thought so; otherwise, you would not have started with it.”  Alice is silent for a moment.  I can’t quite see the thought behind her eyes… and then, she continues.  “You said you had been seeing Dr. Kay for about six months, so this must have been around the time that you and my sister…”  Alice’s voice trails off with the realization… our eyes meet… and the secret is passed.  We look at each other for several moments… knowledge and understanding passing between us.

“Yes… that was… umm… that was a breakthrough… yes, a very important time in our lives.  I had a horrible nightmare that night… the worst in a long time… it brought my demons back… but, it also brought to me the realization that my demons had never really gone away… I had only succeeded, partially as it turned out, in hiding them.  I had hidden them in the only place I knew… the only place I was intimate enough with that I thought I would be safe from… where no one else could see them.  I hid them deep inside me.  I thought that if I pushed them far enough back, I would be safe.

And I would have been safe, except for one thing… I fell in love with your sister.  Tina gave me back my life… she showed me that I could love again… and more importantly; she showed me that I could be loved… that I was loved.”

We sit in silence for a minute, both of us thinking about what I just said, and then Alice gets out of her chair and steps over to mine.  She leans down and wraps her arms around me.  We hug… a little awkwardly, from my sitting position, but a hug, nonetheless.  When Alice hugs, you can really feel the love… she is a wonderful, giving person.

“You looked like you needed a hug, honey.”  Alice sits back down and picks up her cup.  “What was it like… the first time you met Tina?”

“It’s funny you should mention that, sweetie… I was just thinking the same thing.  I think about that day every time I am in an airport; every time I hear ‘our song’.”  I lean forward a little in my chair…Alice does the same in hers.  I close my eyes for a moment… my mind going back to that day…

~~**~~

September 20, 2006 – Logan International, Boston MA

(Softly whispering):   “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Roni…Happy Birthday to you!”

Yeah… happy fucking birthday to me!  I turned 21 today.  No job… that was gone weeks ago… getting kicked out of the women’s shelter tomorrow… 

***************************************************

©  2012 – Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw.  All Rights Reserved.  No reprints without written permission from the author.

ONE TOO MANY

WARNING - MATURE CONTENT - must be accompanied by an adult.

(Author's note - This is one of my earlier writing efforts ( outside of my personal journals which I have writng since I was six) when I got it in my head that I could be a (drum roll please....) 'WRITER!' I'm not sure exactly when writing about my personal 'adventures' morphed into noir fiction, but Tina is a lot happier when I write fiction. Haha! I hope you enjoy this story. It was definitely more fun to write than it was to live through. Thank you. vmls)

ONE TOO MANY

By Veronica Marie Lewis

January 29, 2010

Alice and I are down at Jake’s place, working on our 4th Panty Dropper, and I just signaled Jake for another round.  When we first walked in, Jake wasn‘t going to let us stay; or at least, not Alice.  Alice isn’t quite 21, but she has some really good fake ID, and she looks a good five years older than her real age.  I think Tina must have warned Jake about Alice though, because he was all like, “Hey Ronnie!  Come on, honey!  You know you can’t bring her in here!”   To which I replied, “Jake… sweetie!  It’s been a long week.  I need to unwind.  Tina was supposed to be back from Seattle, and she isn’t!  I want to have a little fun!  You are not going to make me go all “VML”, are you?”   “VML” is code for “there is going to be some public nudity, and most likely, dancing on the bar in at least a partial state of undress, and some lucky patron is going to go home with a pair of my slightly damp panties!”  And, there is a good chance a photo or two of the evening’s events might show up on someone’s MySpace page, considering the fact that every flippin’ cell phone has a camera!  But, I’ve already had a couple glasses of merlot, and I don’t really give a damn!

So, Jake gave in… I knew he would, considering the alternative.  The ID is really good, so he won’t take any heat, as long as he just plays dumb.  But, a “VML” incident could, most likely would, bring the OLCC hounds breathing down Jake’s neck.  I lean over the bar and give Jake a little peck on the cheek.  “Thanks sweetie… love you!”  To Alice, “Okay, honey… let’s go to bathroom and take off our panties so we can dance!”  We are both wearing short, short skirts.  I turn back to Jake and give him a little wink.  “Ronnie, please behave tonight…please!!” Jake pleads.  Muaahh!

So, are we having fun?!  Wheeee!!!  Haha!  Yes, we are!!  A coin toss decided the drink of the evening – Screaming Orgasms or Panty Droppers.  Alice won the toss, so Panty Droppers it is!  And, round one of our new favorite game – “I’d Do Her!” 

Blame it on the booze, but I can’t recall if it was between our second and third or third and fourth Panty Dropper, that I went searching for Alice’s tonsils with my tongue.  Hey, it wasn’t my fault!  Besides, it’s not like Alice and I have never kissed before.  Believe me… Alice enjoyed it just as much, probably even more, than I did. 

There were these two guys hitting on us and wouldn’t believe that we were lesbians, and not interested in them.  “Aww.. .you’re kidding, right?  Two beautiful women like you?  No way are you two lesbos!  You could have any man you want!” was moron number one’s observation.  Yeah, right!  Only ugly girls are lesbians, cuz they can’t get guys!  What a fuckhead!! 

Yeah, I’m probably going to regret this in the morning, but right now?  Alice is a really good kisser, and I need a little affection.

So, you are probably wondering why I am in a bar with Tina’s under-age sister, getting bombed on Panty Droppers and kissing Alice like it was our wedding night.  Okay, here is my tale of woe… 

~~**~~

When Tina promised to cut back on the amount of work she was bringing home with her, so the two of us could have more time together – and I in return, promised to cut back on my online time – I didn’t realize how short-lived her promise to spend more time with me would be.

For the last several weeks now, Tina has been out of town on business once a week.  She has been filling in for a recently vacated position in the Seattle office, going up there to keep everything “on track”, whatever the hell that means!  To be perfectly honest, I would rather have her here, nose buried in work, than out of town.  Sure, Alice is still here to keep me company, but let’s face it; Alice cannot –although she would most certainly like to try – satisfy all my needs.

This past week, Tina went up Thursday and was supposed to come back home Friday evening.  Well, here it is Friday evening and where is Tina?  Still in Seattle!  Damn!  We were supposed to go out!  We were supposed to have a nice date to make up for her dragging me to that crushingly boring dinner party with her office co-workers.  Only after, of course, eliciting a promise from me to behave.  I could have not promised and gotten out of it, but Tina would have been seriously ticked.  See, they are all a bunch of conservative, up-tight Republicans, and could I have some fun with that?!  You bet your sweet little ass I could! 

Now, I don’t mean to denigrate Republicans.  Please don’t take me wrong.  The fact that her co-workers are all Republican is really incidental.  These people are humorless, stick-up-the-ass federal employees. And, since everyone has to have some political bent, and the Democrats and Independents wouldn’t take them that left the Blue Team.  But, I digress…

Tina was supposed to be back home this evening.  But, she called earlier and announced that she was going to have to stay in Seattle another day.  Damn!  Damn!  Damn!  Well, guess what?  Veronica is going out!!

~~**~~

So, here we are at Jakes, both of us totally bombed!!  I should know better than to try and match Alice drink for drink.  I really am a light-weight when it comes to hard liquor.  And, I should remember from past experiences while I was still in college, that sloe gin really hits me hard.  It is like my Waterloo.

Anyway, we make it through the 5th round and are ready for another.  But, Jake says “Nope, sorry Ronnie!  You girls are cut off!  Tina is going to kill me if she finds out, you know.  It is time for you both to go home. I’ve already called a cab.  You’re done for the night!”  “Aww… come on Jake!  Sweetie!!  I’ll show you my boobs!  Hey, Ali!  Show Jake your titties, hun!” I say.  Damn!  It would be a lot easier talking to Jake if he would stand still!  Ha-ha!  Oh, fuck!  I am so wasted!!

“Ha!” replies Jake.  “You girls just keep your clothes on for another five minutes, you hear me?”  Party Pooper!!  Fine!  Your loss… The cabbie walks in just then and Alice helps me out to the cab.  I seem to be having just a teeny, tiny, bit of trouble remaining vertical!  Ha-ha!!

I don’t remember a whole lot after that.  The next thing I know, I am waking up with a pounding headache.  I pry my eyelids open and turn my head to look at the alarm clock… 10:37 AM.  Oh!  Damn!  That hurts!!  A bolt of pain shoots through my temples.

I close my eyes and roll over on my back to take stock.  Okay, a pounding headache, but a handful of Excedrin will take care of that.  At least, my tummy isn’t rebelling.  God!!  I hate it when I throw up!!

Oh-oh!  As my body wakes up more, I become aware of other sensations.  My nipples are sore and my lips feel kind of puffy and bruised.  More so than they should feel from the little bit of kissing Alice and I did at the bar last night.  Oh God!  What did I do?  As I continue the little mental checklist, I’m aware of stickiness between my thighs and I realize the bedding underneath me is damp, and… I am completely naked!!  Oh!  Let’s not forget… my mouth tastes like pussy!  Oh, fuck! Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Veronica… What have you done?!

 In that same instant, I become aware that I am not the only person in this bed.  Whew!!!  Thank God!  Tina got back in the middle of the night and I was so drunk I can’t even remember that we made love.  My heart rate returns to normal.  I raise myself up a little, turning to her… and freeze!!  OH… MY… GOD!!!  Dark hair?  No!!  Tina is a blonde. 

I lie back down and pull the covers over me.  My heart starts pounding again and I feel the panic rising in me.  Oh god… oh god… oh god… oh god… oh god!!  What have you done?  What have you done, Veronica?! 

I am fully awake now and in a state of near panic.  Trying to think of some rational explanation, my brain seizes on this… Okay, that is not Alice lying next to me.  I picked up some girl in the bar because I was so horny and both Alice and I know that she and I can never cross that line.  Yeah, that is probably not the most rational thought I have ever had, huh?  And, by the way Ronnie… since when do you pick up girls in bars?  You might leave a trail of broken hearts in your wake, but you never bring someone home.

Just then, whoever it is in bed with me turns over to my side.  With dread, I turn my head so my eyes can confirm what my heart already knows.  I find myself staring into Alice’s sleeping face.  FUCK!!!  God! Veronica… would you stop saying that word?  It’s bad enough that you did it!!  I quietly roll over on to my tummy and burrow down under the covers.  It’s over!  It’s all over.  Everything is undone.  I have fucked up for the last time!  It’s karma; that is what it is.  Karma!  After what I did in… oh fuck!  What’s the point in bringing that up now?

~~**~~

I’m dead!  That’s it… I am dead!  Tina is going to kill me!  She will probably kill Alice too, but I’m going to go first.  I might as well go pack my bags right now and get out of Dodge.  If I don’t use my plastic, it could take Tina some time to track me down.    Hey, Regan!  Honey!  What’s up, sweetie?  Want a slightly used girlfriend?  A lot of fun to be with, but not quite 100% faithful?   No?  That’s okay… I understand…

I wonder if it would do any good to get on my knees and beg Tina for mercy.  Sigh!!  Probably not.  I’ve broken a promise.  I deserve whatever is waiting for me.  Maybe Tina will give me a last cigarette and a blindfold.  Ha-ha!  That’s it, Ronnie… chin up, girl!

Suddenly, my stomach starts rumbling.  Lying on my tummy wasn’t such a good idea.  Oh God!  I am going to be sick!!  I throw back the covers and make a mad dash for the bathroom.  Barely making it in time, I drop to my knees and heave!  Thank God, someone left the lid up!  My stomach convulses again… and again!  And… again!!  Oh God!  I want to die!!  I don’t remember what we had to eat last night, but it tastes like vomit coming back up.  That thought makes me retch again.

I must make a pretty pathetic sight… hunched over the toilet, naked, vomit dripping out of my mouth and nose, my hair a matted mess, tears streaming down my cheeks.  What’s the expression…? “Praying to the Porcelain Goddess?”  Yep!  That’s me, praying… oh god, oh god, oh god!  Make it stop!  Please!

I kneel, hunched over the toilet for a long time, waiting for my stomach to settle back down.  When it seems safe, I rise unsteadily to my feet and flush the toilet, then make my way to the sink and wash up.  Oh God!  My mouth tastes like… My stomach gives another lurch!  Okay, don’t think it… don’t think it!  I swish some mouthwash around, being careful not to swallow any… that’s all I need.  Then, I lower the lid and sit back down on the toilet for a few minutes, trying to compose myself and figure out what the hell I am going to do next.

I guess I should at least take a shower and get dressed.  Maybe the condemned will get a last meal.  Ha-ha!  A little gallows humor!  I turn on the shower, getting the water as hot as I can take it and then just stand under the spray until I start to feel something like normal.

I turn off the shower and step out, pulling one of the big bath towels off the shelf and drying myself.  I drop the towel on the floor… That’s right, Mama.  I still leave my towels on the floor for someone else to pick up.  See?  It wasn’t just you!

    

Walking out to the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of orange juice.  Draining the glass, I head back to the bedroom when I hear a key turn in the front door.  I freeze!!  Tina?  Oh god… oh god… oh god!  What do I do?  What do I do?!  Damn!  Damn!  Damn!  I can’t move.  I’m frozen where I stand, naked as the day I was born!

Tina comes in, closing the door behind her.  “Hey, baby!!  I missed you so much!!  Did you and Alice have fun last night?” Tina asks, apparently not overly concerned that I am running around naked.

I can only stare wide-eyed in horror at Tina, my mouth hanging open!  Oh God!  What do I say? “Oh yeah, we fucked!  Alice is really great in bed!  Thanks for leaving the two of us alone here.”   Oh no! Fuck!   The orange juice is coming back up!  I’m going to be sick again!  I clasp a hand over my mouth and run for the bathroom!

My stomach is already pretty empty and after a couple of heaves, there isn’t anything left to throw up.  The bathroom reeks of vomit, and I turn on the fan.  After cleaning up again, I sit on the edge of the tub, considering what to do next.  A heart attack!  That’s what I need… a heart attack.  Or… better yet, and I get to stay with Tina.  I slip on the wet floor and hit my head on the corner of the lavatory.  I then fall into a coma and when I wake up years later, I remember nothing but my undying love for Tina, who has stayed by my side all those years!  Yeah… that could work!

Just then, I hear voices outside the bathroom door, but no one calls out to me.  I move over to the door, but do not open it.  Alice and Tina are talking in low voices.

“So, should we tell her?”  I hear Alice ask Tina.  Tell her what? 

“No, let’s not.  Not right now, anyway.” Tina answers.  “Let’s let her think she had sex with you last night, instead of me.  Veronica needs to learn a lesson here.  She violated a very important rule last night, taking you out drinking.  That can’t go unpunished.  We’ll let her worry and fret a while.” 

WTF!!  Nothing happened between me and Alice last night? We did not have sex?  It was Tina?  Damn!  I should have recognized that taste in my mouth.   This was all a big setup?  OH… MY… GOD!!  Grrrr!!!  I am going to kick their asses so hard… I start to reach for the doorknob, then stop.  Okay, wait a sec!  Let’s think about this for a minute.

Tina continues.  “I want to see how long it takes her to “confess” to having sex with you.  If I know Veronica as well as I think I do, she will before the day is over.  Meanwhile, you and I need to have a serious talk.  You know better, Ali!  What possessed you to go along with Veronica last night?”

I move away from the door; I don’t need to hear anymore.  So, that’s the way it is, huh?  

Okay, now it’s my turn to have a little fun!!!!!   Muaahh!!!

I step back over to the toilet and flush it, then make a production out of unlocking the bathroom door (which wasn’t even locked to begin with) to give the two of them time to get away from the door.  I don’t want them to know I heard their little conversation.

Tina and Alice have retreated to the kitchen and when I walk in, I feign modesty at the sight of Alice, moving my hands up to cover my “goodies”.  “Oops!” I say, putting a look of surprise on my face.

“Maybe you’d like to put some clothes on, missy!” Tina says, with just a trace of a smile on her lips.  Alice can’t take her eyes off of me, moving across the kitchen to get a better look at my butt.

“Yeah, maybe I…” I say, breaking off.  I turn to Alice.  “Oh, what the hell!  Honey, let’s just tell Tina and get it over with, huh?  Aren’t you tired of hiding this from her?  I am!”

Oh My God!  Ha-ha!  The looks on their faces are priceless!! I am trying really hard not to start laughing, and the little smirk Tina had a few moments ago has been wiped off.  Poor Alice doesn’t know what to think.  I feel a little bit sorry for her, but she is a co-conspirator and it wouldn’t be fair to Tina if I spared Alice.

I step over to Alice and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing my naked body against hers.  “C’mon, Lover!” I say.  “Let’s go back to bed.  I wasn’t done with you!” I purr in her ear.  I look over at Tina.  “You don’t mind, do you, hun?  I mean, I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but it’s really for the best.  We had a nice run, you and I, but” (flash of inspiration here) “well, you’re almost 31 and Alice is not even 21.  So…”  I flash a big smile.

“Ha-ha! Ha!  Very funny!” Tina replies.  “Very funny, missy!  Heard everything, did you?  Hmm?  I bet you think… Alice!  Don’t you even think about it!!” 

I turn my attention back to Alice, who has her left arm around my waist – well, actually, her hand is almost on my ass – and her right hand is poised right over my naked breast.  Looking Alice right in the eye, I give her a little smile and say “Yes?”  Without missing a beat, Alice replies “May I?”

“No!  You may not, young lady!” Tina retorts.  “Okay, fun time is over!” she says, plucking Alice’s hand off my bum and separating us.  “You can just forget whatever it is you were thinking, and you…” directed at me, “You need to get some clothes on.  Now!”

“Pffftt!!” I stick my tongue out at Tina and turn to leave.  Smack!  OW!! Tina just smacked me on the butt!  Turning back to her, “Oh no!  You did NOT just spank me!” I say in mock anger.  Tina backs up a little.  I advance, head down, eyes narrowed… like a cat advancing on its helpless prey.  Tina lets out a shriek, “Ronnie!  No, baby!” and darts past me, escaping from the kitchen.  I let out an evil laugh…

Muaahh!! Muah!  Ha! Ha!

And the chase begins…..

MARKING TIME

MARKING TIME

By Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw

(Author’s note – I met Robert several years ago… during my “dark days”.  After watching him on the train for several weeks, I finally worked up the nerve to talk to him… it was more than just curiosity.  I sensed in Robert a sorrow and a pain that I knew all too well.  I think I rather fancied us as “kindred spirits”, if you will.  Over a period of weeks, Robert told me his story… it was tragic and heartbreaking.  I have changed certain elements of the story to protect the innocents.  I hope, in my retelling, that I have maintained the integrity of Robert’s words.  VMLS)

~~**~~

I did my thirty and got out.  Had enough of drunk or stoned sailors coming back from shore leave, reeking of piss, vomit, and booze.  Got a belly full of oxygen thieves pretending to be men… who beat their wives or got into brawls over who was the best left-handed pitcher of all time... Sandy Koufax, as if there was ever any doubt, or tried to stiff the $10 hookers down on Harbor.  Couldn’t deal with one more “mama’s boy” complaining that his feet hurt after a twenty mile hike. 

So, after thirty years of keeping the peace and trying to turn boys into men, I got out.  My wife of thirty-five years and I packed up and moved to the Pacific Northwest.  We bought a condo in Portland, Oregon and a cabin up in the Cascades.

Lily took a professorship at Portland State University, teaching English to all those bright, shiny faces full of hope and promise… our future leaders.  I settled back into my writing, grateful to at last be free of the interruptions of service life. 

After my last novel, Lily offered that perhaps my character, a middle-aged P.I. plying his trade on the East Coast, might be getting just a bit tired.  I couldn’t disagree with her.  Getting out number ten in the Everett Thompson series was as painful as passing kidney stones… a none too subtle way of telling me to move on. 

Ever since finishing I Kill, Therefore I Am, I had been toying with a new character… a female profiler with the FBI.  Lily was quite thrilled at the idea.  And now that we lived in Portland, where my new character was based, research for the new novel would be easier.

~~**~~

We had only been in Portland for about a year, when I lost Lily.  I guess I kind of lost myself too… there for a while.

~~**~~

Lily and I had been coming back from a Blazer game one Friday night in late October.  Fall was in full “bloom” and there was just a bit of a chill in the air.  But, it was dry… something you don’t see a whole lot of in the Northwest this time of year. 

It had been a good game… we beat Cleveland by eighteen.  Folks don’t say “Portland beat…”, it’s always “…we beat.”  There is a lot of Blazer pride in this town. 

We had caught the MAX up at the Rose Garden and settled in for the twenty minute train ride back downtown.  Age does have its privilege… a nice, young couple vacated their seats in the SRO car, for Lily and I.  The four of us chatted about the game as the train glided through the night.

By the time the train arrived at the Courthouse Square stop, most of the riders had disembarked.  That’s when things started to go south.  A couple of punks decked out in black leather and chains got on the train and started kicking up a ruckus. 

As they passed by Lily and me, I gave them a hard look… twenty years as a military cop, I don’t take crap from punks… and the leader of the two stopped for a moment, like maybe he was going to say something, and then thought better of it.  He just stared at me… I stared back.  After a few moments, the two moved on into the next car, and I didn’t give them any more thought.

Things happened pretty fast after that, and I’m sorry to say… there are still some things to this day that I simply don’t remember.  What I do remember though, is picking myself up off the floor of the moving train to find two young girls huddled over Lily… one of them trying to stem the flow of blood from the switchblade knife sticking out of her chest… and the other one holding Lily’s head in her lap, trying to comfort her.

~~**~~

Lily died that night… before the paramedics arrived.  A part of me died that night too… Lily was my whole life… always had been… she was my rock.  I…

I sort of “went away” for a while… tried to sort things out… figure out what I was going to do without my Lily…

~~**~~

I’m back now. 

I ride the MAX trains every day… the Green Line… the Yellow Line… the Blue Line… the Red Line… WES… the Portland Streetcar… watching…

No, that’s not right… not watching… hunting…

I let my hair grow out… let the beard go all long and straggly… kitted out in worn, baggy clothes from the Goodwill, I look like any of the dozens of other homeless riding the train… old and harmless… talking to myself… casting furtive glances about… nobody gives me no mind. 

I see them doing their best to ignore me… pretending I’m not there.  That’s fine with me.  I’m not interested in them.

I never forget a face.  I’ll find him.  Then I will end him.

~~finis~~

(Author’s note – About a year ago, I came across Robert’s obituary in the local paper.  I do not believe it was chance that led me that day to read a newspaper that I boycott for its hypocrisy.   A weight came off of my heart with the realization that Robert was at long last reunited with his Lily… in Heaven.  July 17, 2011 -VMLS)