Stories of My Life

Still Nothing

2009-02-24T09:26:00.003-05:00

Not that things are beginning to feel hopeless, but I do wish I would at least get a phone call about a job. I applied for four more last week, two of which I really thought I was perfect for and I've still not gotten a phone call. It is pretty depressing. I am tired of sitting at home, tired of looking and not finding anything. Enough of that though...

Balin fell down on Saturday while on his changing table and hit his eye on the window sill. He got himself pretty good and he had a nice welt under his right eye. It has now turned a nice purple and it looks like he had gotten in a fight. He's a scrappy little guy, but I really can't picture him as a fighter. He has found a new addiction for the movie Cars. Yesterday he started watching it about half a dozen times. I say started because he only watches about the first 15-30 minutes of it before he loses interest. He's funny.

Gracie had dance practice last night and got her uniforms for her recital in May. They are really cute. I watched Gracie dance when I got to the studio and it nearly brought tears to my eyes. She is such a sweet little girl. The song her instructor picked for them is really slow and somber and it makes me think about how Gracie is growing up, getting older. I hate watching her getting older because I know before I can blink she will be a teenager. I hope we will always have a special relationship. She is my world.

Megan goes to the doctor tomorrow. I think they will probably schedule her ultrasound tomorrow. She hasn't had one because they were waiting for her Medicaid to come through so she wouldn't have to worry about paying a nasty big bill. She still doesn't know if she is going to find out the gender. She doesn't really know what she wants to name it. She doesn't really know what she is going to do. I suppose she is just going to play this whole motherhood thing by ear. Not necessarily the way I would go about it, but hey, not my kid.

Well, that's it for now. Everyone should be happy that I updated this thing twice in the span of a week. Maybe I'll get all political later on this week and post again. I wouldn't suggest you holding your breath though. :)

Finally! He's Updated It!

2009-02-17T09:03:00.002-05:00

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I haven't written on this thing in forever. I also know I've told you in the past that I was going to try and update it. Well, all I can do is try. I'm not going to promise any consistency, but I will promise to think about updating it. How about that?

Okay, what is happening with me, the family and all that noise...

Well, first off, I'm still unemployed. I still haven't heard from any potential employers. I still keep sending out resumes. I think I am at a precarious situation in my life. I am 40 years old and am at the point where the next job I have should be the job I carry on with through my later years. Retirement is a long ways away, but thinking about retirement is in the now. I need a place that offers stability. Maybe that is why God is holding out and not sending an opportunity my way quite yet. He knows that I need the right job, for me, for my family. As long as I'm drawing unemployment we are okay. We got our taxes done last night and got a significant amount back. That will protect us for many months as long as we continue to live lean.

Last night I got to play Girl Scout Mom again. Gracie had her bridging ceremony, moving from being a Daisy to Brownies. They had a little pot luck and with two hours to figure it out, I had to come up with something to take. I am horrible about this kind of stuff. They assigned Gracie the task of bringing an entree or appetizer. Why couldn't we be picked for desserts? I'm always better with sweets. Anyway, I found a recipe on the internet that looked pretty good. It was for Sausage Cheese Balls. I decided that after wasting another half hour getting a shower and shaving that this had to be my choice, considering I was about out of time.

I set myself to work and realized that during my prep I was lacking a few of the ingredients. For instances, the recipe called for eggs. Whoops, all out of eggs. The recipe called for biscuit mix. Whoops, out of biscuit mix. Onions: none. Cheddar cheese: had to use a combination of taco cheese and mozzarella. Well, I wasn't going to not take anything, so I improvised. I used flaked onions I found in the cupboard, so that took care of that. I couldn't really substitute egg, so this particular recipe did not use egg. For biscuit mix, I found two packages of pizza crust mix in the pantry and used them. I had to add some water to my concoction to moisten it up a bit, but all in all it looked pretty decent in it's raw form.

Cooking the mixture was also guess work. The recipe said cook at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. The recipe for the pizza crust said cook for 12-15 minutes at 450 degrees. I ended up splitting the difference and cooking for 15 minutes at 400 degrees. I had to say they turned out pretty good. Megan was afraid, thinking that maybe I created another one of my dishes that were destined for the trash can. I gave her one, along with some cold pizza sauce to dip it in and she said it tasted pretty good. With that, I went to the potluck with a bit of confidence.

When I got there one of the ladies asked me what it was that I brought and I was speechless. I feel bad making claim even to the title of the poor person's recipe I bastardized with the paltry findings in my pantry. I just told her it was an entree, or appetizer, or whatever it was I was suppose to bring. When we were in line to get food the girl scout leader said that my concoction looked good and asked what it was. I told her i didn't really know. I explained that it started out as something I found on the internet but was now the Frankenstein equivalent. I think she cringed a bit, but that didn't detract her or anyone else from taking them. In the end they were all gone, so I guess it all worked out. I succeeded in bringing something to my little girl's scout banquet and I haven't gotten any phone calls from lawyers yet, so it's all good.

By the way, the girl scout ceremony was short and sweet. Gracie wasn't too terribly interested in it. I only had to yell at her once during the whole event, and that was when I walked in found her making snow angels on the gym floor, her dress hiked up around her waist. She told me it was alright because she was wearing tights. "No one can see my underwear, Dad," was the defense she gave me. That one is going to be trouble for me.

On to other things. Balin is doing well. He has learned to dance and it is the funniest thing I've ever seen. Problem is he has been asked so many times to dance since we've discovered this hidden talent that now he won't do it anymore. I need to get my video camera out next time he busts a move. It is a sight to see. It almost ranks up there with his "Cheese Face". Next time any of you see him ask him to show you his Cheese Face. It is great.

Today is my day off. Grace is at school, Balin goes to the sitter and I am free to do whatever I want. I will have to go do my banking (transferring my unemployment off of my bank card and into my bank account). Then I usually spin by the mall to talk to my friend Graham. He is the manager of Atomic and we have been talking about how we would like to get more Warmachine player into the store. I think I'm going to plan a friendly tournament for March. It would be a good time to have it while the weather is still nasty and would get more traffic in the store. If not March, then definitely May.

Okay, book progress. Sadly, I must admit that I have been reading more books than writing. I read Brother Odd by Dean Koontz, a book I started a year ago but never finished. Now I'm reading 1776 by David McCullough. It is a non-fiction about the Revolutionary War. It won the Pulitzer Prize for literature. For some odd reason I feel compelled to win this prestigious prize winners. It is almost like my mind is being cheated if I don't get to take in these great works.

But about me writing. I haven't done much of anything with the Solomon Grundy based book. In truth, I fell out of love with the storyline. I got a few thousand words in and really got disgusted with myself with how the story was going. That said, I had another idea pop into my mind last night when I was lying on the couch trying to, but not sleeping. I started the story this morning and got a few hundred words on paper. I was surprised by how I started it, as I really wasn't heading in the direction I planned, but in fact I like it, so I'm going to keep going. I would probably still be writing on it had I not decided I needed to update this before I got rolling.

I've been kind of disgusted with my writing since I wrote Wyatt. Reading Koontz over the last few days I realized how lacking my descriptions have been. One of the things I'm going to try in this current project is too be much more descriptive. Koontz is impressive in how he paints a picture of where you are at and what the characters look like. Writing isn't just about writing, it is about improving and I've got a lot of ground to cover in that department.

Anyway, I should get off the computer. I've got to get my banking done and if I don't go into the Mall I want to at least stop by and visit my friend Heidi at her dog grooming business. It is nice to talk to adults other than my wife and daughter.

Oh, I would be remiss if I didn't offer a Megan update. She is doing well in school. She is working at Kroger but has seen her hours cut way down this week. Even the grocery stores are feeling the bite of the recession. I told her she needs to sit down with Caleb and start figuring out what they need for the baby. I don't think they've got a clear understanding as of yet. I told Angie she needs to step up and get a shower planned for Megan. She wasn't going to have one and I told her that it wouldn't be fair to Megan. I don't know where that will go, but I hope they do something for her.

Okay, I'm off to the land of showers, bank cards and dog grooming. I hope this fulfills you fix for blogging (I'm looking at you John). Anyway, I will attempt to send an update later this week. Happy Day all.

Things as they are happening

2009-01-28T14:54:00.003-05:00

Hello everyone, I suppose I need to be a bit more diligent about writing on my blog. I hope I can make this more of a daily thing rather than a weekly thing. So, that said, let me bring you up to snuff on what is going on.

As far as the job hunt goes, it is pretty bleak. I've heard absolutely nothing from any of the jobs I've applied for, not that there are many out there to apply for. I did get a rejection letter from one company and that was actually nice. It confirmed for me that at least SOMEONE was reading the stuff I was sending out.

At home the kids are doing good. Balin enjoys having me home everyday and Grace likes me being here when she gets home from school. It is nice having Megan home because she offers some adult companionship, something that I really need at times.

I've been writing on my two separate projects, though I think I'm going to focus my efforts on my fiction simply because I'm really not quite up to the task of writing my non-fiction. It is really demanding of my brain and in all honestly difficult to commit too when the kids are around. I'm going to post the first chapter of that text at the end of this so you get an idea of what direction I'm heading with that book. I think you'll understand what I'm talking about when I say that it taxes my mind.

My fiction project is now off the ground. I wrote again today for about an hour, including a complete rewrite of the prologue as I slept on it and was very unsatisfied with the imagery. I've got the first real character and have begun to flesh him out a bit. He is a book store owner named Sean Gilbertson. He's a twenty-something that is doing the work his dad left for him when the elder Gilbertson passed away. I was going to have the book store owner be nobody, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wanted him to be one of the main characters. I think he will provide some tension for the story later on. I'm looking forward to fleshing the part out more.

Anyways, things are all good here. Wanted to touch base and let everyone know that I'm doing okay (though jobless).

Okay, here is the first chapter (or part) of my non-fiction. I would love to hear what you think.

What is Definition Theory?

Definition Theory is an interpretation of the way words and their meanings “work” as a whole. Merriam Webster Online defines the two words separately as:

Definition: the action or the power of describing, explaining, or making definite and clear
Theory: the analysis of a set of facts in their relation to one another

So, it would reason that Definition Theory as a conjunctive word set could be defined as:

The action or power of describing, explaining, or making definite through the analysis of facts in relation to one another.

It is the process of examining the way we use words and how they use us. It is a new frame of reference for examining the way people interact, and the way we manipulate the accepted standard to allow us to get what we want. It is a way of making people do what we want. Definition Theory, and the understanding of it, is the control of the power mechanism inherent in all things.

How’s that for an explanation?

Let me try to give a little better explanation.

Definition theory really doesn’t have a definition itself. It is like trying to explain how something tastes. You can’t find a real short way of explaining it; instead, you are required to go into a great many details to give an adequate idea of what it is. Hopefully through this text I can answer the question of what it is.

Everything we know, everything we will ever know is based on definition. Furthermore, a majority that fluctuates with time and location generally controls the very definition of things. Control of these variables grants power to individuals and groups, allowing the furtherance and growth of the ever-changing definitive truth. As individuals and as a society we grant control over definition and call those who make these decisions leaders. To have control to set definition is to have ultimate power. This power is demonstrated in the fact that all arguments are based in definition. He/she who has the power to set definition can and will win every argument.

I hope to look at a great deal of things as we progress through this text. There are so many things that make this whole concept applicable to things in our everyday life. I hope to show a great many examples of how definitive theory works, and how we are surrounded by it without even being aware of it. My ultimate goal is to provide the reader with the ability to utilize this theory to influence their own world, rather than let them be completely influenced by it. In the very least I hope to create a new awareness, a new appreciation and perhaps even a new fascination with the way our language and lives work.
Chapter 1: Throwing Away What We Know

I carry a dictionary with me just about everywhere I go. It is an extremely useful tool, one that gives me a great deal of power over other people. For society, a dictionary is a written representation of acceptable truth. Think about it, who would argue with the definition given in Webster’s? Very few, if any would. The power of that book is incredible.

One of the themes that I will continually incorporate into this text is the power of definition to control and win arguments. A dictionary is hard copy of what our language means. By using that book we can verify, clarify and support many of our argumentative stances, often without reciprocal argument.

The fact is, and certainly something we want to “throw away” from our collective thinking, is the acceptance of the dictionary as cold, hard truth. Dictionaries are forced perceptions perpetrated by men. They are a preconceived representation of another person’s truth, fed to the public as absolute. Does this mean that the words and meanings in a dictionary are wrong? No, not necessarily. It is the concept of the dictionary that is wrong.

The only reason a word means what it means is because someone else told us what the definition is. A dictionary is nothing more than a list of these words and their meanings. We are the ones with the power to accept these meanings. Unfortunately we usually accept what is written rather than go against the norm. Traditionally this is a function of society. We do so as a method of conformance (but we’ll go into that in depth much later on). Take for instance the common statement: “You can’t always believe what you read [hear].” This is generally applied to news applications. It is difficult for us as a society to sit and listen to the news on television, or read a newspaper and not take what is being read as absolute fact. Yet, there are so often times when retractions must be made because an over-zealot, or misinformed newsperson took liberties and wrote something that wasn’t entirely true. Could it be that the same could happen in a dictionary?

It is this belief that we need to “throw away” if we are to truly utilize our language and our ability to influence definition. As long as we have this proverbial crutch we will continue to use it. I’m not necessarily saying that we have to abandon the works of Webster; instead, I’m trying to allow you the ability to use a dictionary when it suits you, instead of relying on it as absolute truth.

Why are dictionaries flawed?

The essential flaws that are found within dictionaries can be boiled down into three main reasons. The first, something I’ve already touched on, is the fact that dictionaries are a product of human beings and therefore contain a varying degree of human flaw. To prove this point let’s examine the first and most popular American Dictionaries: Webster’s.

The Bias of Webster

Noah Webster is arguably the most esteemed and recognized lexicographer in both American and European histories. Upon the release of his American Dictionary of the English Language in 1828, “College presidents, senators, and representatives hailed him; Congress and state legislatures issued congratulatory proclamations and, together with the courts, adopted Webster’s dictionary as their official standard, thus making his the ‘federal language’…” Webster, in writing his dictionary and through continued publication of his widely popular Blue Backed Speller, took his place among America’s founding fathers, as the father of the American language.

One of the things that is forgotten about Noah Webster and his dictionary is that because he was the last man ever to write a dictionary on his own (without the help of a staff or assistants) he had a great deal of leeway in the inclusion of information in his text. With this in mind it is understandable that Webster took the position that, “the business of the lexicographer is to collect, arrange, and define, as far as possible, all the words that belong to a language, and leave the author to select from them…according to his own taste and judgment.” With the ability to select words for inclusion in his dictionary, it’s apparent that Webster, as an author, commanded a great deal of power in the formation of the American language.

This power is best demonstrated in some of the changes, which Webster took upon himself to make, during the writing of his book. One of his best-known reforms was the introduction of new spelling. While this seems minor, it was, in effect, changing the way we wrote the words of our language. The change of the spelling of the word “honour” to “honor” is relatively unobtrusive, but had Webster been able to push through all of his reforms, we would be spelling words such as “ache” as “ake” or “women” as “wimen”.

Not only did Webster have the power to implement the new spellings to words, he had the ability to introduce completely new words to the population while at the same time effectively removing other words from the American vocabulary. Webster was the first to introduce Americanized words such as soapy, lengthy, skunk, hickory and chowder in his dictionary while at the same time omitting words, found in Samuel Johnson’s Dictionary of the English Language (the previous standard for dictionaries), such as fishify, jackalent, jeggumbob, conjabble and fourta.

The most pertinent thing that Webster controlled, above and beyond the introduction of new vocabularies and spellings, was his somewhat prejudiced methods of defining terms. Webster was not only driven by the need to create a national language through his dictionary, but to inspire his readers through spiritual and patriotic revival. Examples of definitions include:

Happy, a….The pleasurable sensation derived from the gratification of sensual appetites render a person temporarily happy; he can be esteemed really and permanently happy, who enjoys peace of mind in the favor of God.

Witness, v.t….To see or know by personal experience. I witnessed the ceremonies in New York, with the ratification of the constitution was celebrated in 1788.

An American Dictionary of the English Language was written not only as a supplement to the language we spoke, but as “a well-spring of truths that promised his countrymen an increase in ‘the wealth, learning, moral and religious elevation of character, and glory’ of their country – a self-contained educative institution designed to serve as a secular companion to the Bible.”

Those definitions that Webster saw as vulgar were precluded from his dictionary, paving way for the establishment of a new supporting language of American slang. In Webster’s eyes “one might not legitimately seek to fix the language but clearly one had the moral duty to cleanse it.” This moralistic ideal lead to the formulation of a set standard in dictionary writing, one that occurs in some dictionaries even today. For example, Merriam-Webster’s Third International edition in 1961 lacked any of the obscene “four letter words”.

Censorship in other forms has shaped our dictionaries and influenced our ability to learn. For example, in Texas, all schoolbooks are reviewed by the state, and because of inappropriate definitions, have removed books such as the American Heritage Dictionary from the bookshelves, thus influencing further editions and the appropriateness of the definitions contained within. Furthermore, an illustrative sentence in Webster’s Second New International (1934) suggesting that “electricity had replaced gas” was excised from the reprint after complaints from the gas industry. The fact is, historically definitions have changed or been removed from dictionaries based on personal bias of the writers, editors and even consumers.

Further deceptions can be demonstrated simply by examining the titles of the many dictionaries that appear on store shelves. Tapping into the unprotected name of Webster, dictionary sellers influence their buyers with titles such as: Random House Webster’s, Webster’s New World, Webster’s Comprehensive Dictionary 2000 ed., and Langensheidt’s Universal Webster. Countless other examples exist. The only true dictionary that is the direct descendant of Webster’s 1828 work is the Merriam-Webster dictionary, which bought the publishing rights to the great dictionary in 1841.

Dictionaries have never been divine creations as it has been compared, but are instead creations of men. Some of these men were brilliant scholars and professors, while other contributors were more delusive. One such example was Dr. William Minor, a clinically insane murderer and resident of the English mental hospital, Broadmoor. Confined to a cell, he contributed more than 10,000 definitions to the Oxford English Dictionary.

The fact is, dictionaries are very deceptive and thus should not be considered “absolute truth”. The thing to remember about them is that they were written by human beings, forcing us to realize that they are just as susceptible to personal opinion and bias as any other book. What Webster was doing in the beginning was not only documenting our language, but in effect, deciding for us how our language was to work. Since then it has been nothing more than trickle down education, as his book still commands the same authority as it did in 1828.

This does not necessarily mean that the modern day dictionary is steeped in the personal rhetoric of Noah Webster. For the most part the dictionaries of today are pretty much standardized and unbiased. Instead they simply state the definitions, yet there will always be some editing involved.

Dictionaries as a foundation are very selective. First off, there are simply too many words in the American language to include in a truly functional dictionary. In a society of smaller, faster and easier, we have trimmed down the very content of our dictionaries, creating varying complexities in our books. These are then assigned labels, providing a marketing tool, yet effectively watering down the books. Go to a bookstore and look at the dictionaries there. You will find collegiate dictionaries (lexicons aimed at college students or grads, with the intention of playing on the formal and advanced education of the consumer), or “pocket dictionaries that boast thousands of definitions yet fail to admit that the essential meanings of the words have been diluted down so much that the complete “acceptable” meaning of a word is not even conveyed. Other dictionaries market themselves as a “student dictionary” or “concise dictionary” all the while tapping into the unprotected name of Webster to help lend credence to their product.

What this has created is the second reason for why dictionaries are essentially flawed:

The Inconsistencies of Definition

In a general sense, we’ve always accepted the “truths” that the dictionary presents. The problem with this is that the dictionary as we know is severely limited. Without realizing it we set definitions more often than a dictionary does. We do so because the definition as printed in any dictionary is done so within a vacuum. Definition must not only be analyzed in its base form, as it appears in dictionaries, but must be allowed to fluctuate in an ecosystemic structure; to change to fit its environment.

The definition of a word, though it has the ability to stand-alone and be defined, is only practical in definition when taken in context. This falls in line with Stuart Hall’s beliefs as written in his article “The Rediscovery of ‘Ideology’: Return of the Repressed in Media Studies”. In this article he states, “Definition of reality is…the active work of selecting and presenting, of structuring and shaping: not merely the transmitting of an already existing meaning, but the more active labour of making things mean.” He continues on to say, “…Things and events in the real world do not contain or propose their own integral, single, and intrinsic meaning, which is then merely transferred through language. Meaning is a social production, a practice. The world has to be made to mean.”

So how are these two things different? This can best be demonstrated through example. The dictionary definition of the word “tall” is:

“1. High in stature. 2. Of considerable height. 3. Long from bottom to top.”

While this definition works perfectly well when it stands alone, in its practical contextual use, such as in the examination of a person’s height, you need to take other conditions in to mind. If I was to say a man who was six feet in height was a tall man it may be a truthful statement, but doesn’t this change, and in effect, change the definition of the word “tall” when I place the same six foot man alongside the members of a professional basketball team? More so, doesn’t the definition of “tall” change when I compare that same man to something else, such as a skyscraper? In this case, the description, “tall” no longer applies, and in fact, the word’s complete opposite, “short” is more accurate in describing the individual.

A dictionary, while containing a wealth of information is incapable of providing a complete definition based on the contextual surrounding of a practical world. This renders a dictionary useful only for giving a guideline for words, and even then, the definitions are skewed by the lexicographer that penned it.
Words and their meanings are more practical when defined by those who use them. Take for example the word “propaganda”. According to three separate dictionaries (yet dictionaries bearing the same ‘brand’ name) propaganda is defined as:

1. Systematic spreading of ideas
2. Any widespread promotion of particular ideas, doctrines, etc.
3. Any systematic, widespread dissemination or promotion of particular ideas, doctrines, practices, etc. to further one’s own cause or to damage an opposing one.

All three of these definitions essentially define the word differently. Yet another definition, one that was created not by a lexicographer, but by two authors is recognized as an authoritative definition:

Propaganda: The deliberate systematic attempt to shape perceptions, manipulate cognitions, and direct behavior to achieve a response that furthers the desired intent of the propagandist.

While this definition is similar to the third definition presented above, it does contain differing elements, and because it is further defined in part, something that isn’t done in any modern dictionary, it can provide a more comprehensive definition. For example, the authors continue to expand the meaning by describing the words “deliberate, systematic” as, “precise and methodical, carrying out something with organized regularity”.

What all this means is that a dictionary cannot always be accepted as the absolute truth. The words of a dictionary are stagnant and unchanging; the words of our lives are pliable and ever evolving according to the situations or usefulness of change. This leads to the third reason why dictionaries are inherently flawed:

Words are evolving

To say that our language is constantly changing would be an understatement. Especially in this era, when computers have become a dominant force, whole new vocabularies, dare I say cultures, have opened up. It has been nearly impossible for lexicographers (dictionary writers) to keep up. Even as recently as the mid 80’s, words such as megabyte, Internet, and email were absent from the most highly regarded collegiate dictionaries. Today those words are used almost daily and have certainly engrained themselves into world culture yet many of the dictionaries we turn to as the authority on definition have remained the same.

Language, words and their meanings are not immune to evolution; in fact, they change constantly, oftentimes without our cognizant recognition. Words are products of human thought, as we are the only beings who have so developed a written language. While many would recognize this as great feat of intellect, it is in essence, a failure, for we have failed to completely corral our language, instead it runs free, changing and evolving without hope of us ever catching it.

There will always be attempts to bring the meaning of all words to the dictionaries, but at the speed the English language changes; it is truly a daunting task. Since Webster’s first collegiate dictionary was released in the mid 1800’s there have been ten editions published by Merriam-Webster alone. Even the venerable Oxford’s English Dictionary, “which took nearly 70 years to complete in 1928…has five supplements and then, half a century later, a second edition that integrated the first and all the subsequent supplementary volumes into one new twenty-volume whole.” Since then, two additional supplements have been written, expanding the OED from its initial thirteen volumes in 1928 to twenty-two volumes in 2000.

By falling back on a dictionary, society has made a concession to accept what is written, as fact, without even realizing that this fact is ever changing. New words come out everyday (it has been calculated that around 800 neologisms are added to the working vocabulary of the language every year.)

To complicate things further, the need to separate the vulgar, the socially unacceptable and the language of the minorities (something we’ll discuss in subsequent chapters) from dictionaries has effectively created a whole new language. This language is used everyday yet remains practically ignored by the acceptable echelon of lexicographical acceptance. Additionally, as the electronic age spreads, and we all become a bit more computer savvy, symbols and abbreviations have become commonplace in our communicative lives. We display emotions in our written language by using symbols such as :) or abbreviations such as lol to represent actions, yet rarely think about these as defined symbols, acceptable to society as the norm. They also remain absent from our dictionaries, leaving a potential void of understanding in our “perfectly defined world”.

Do these three shortcomings make dictionaries completely useless? No, far from it. In fact, understanding these flaws may make dictionaries even more useful to us. The important thing to remember is that while dictionaries may be perceived as the authority on definition, they are not. It is the human being who sets, establishes and enforces the definitions that commands this authority. A dictionary can be a great support tool, and can win an argument simply because most people do just what I’ve explained you shouldn’t do: accept definition as described in a dictionary as absolute truth. By refusing to accept dictionaries and their definitions as absolute you have been empowered. How does that feel?

New Book Has Officially Began

2009-01-23T10:32:00.002-05:00

Well, after reading the response that my brother Brian gave me after my final posting of Klinker, I have officially started my new book. This one should be a lot of fun to write and I am doing so with the intention of writing a true novel I can be proud of. While I am only a few hundred words into it, I have a strong plot figured out and am really looking forward to the first chapters. I am going to take my time with this book, but intend on setting a goal of approximately 1000 words a day. Additionally, while I would like to print the entirety of the text here, I am only going to note my progress as this is a book I hope to eventually get legitimately published and sending to the web could cause issues. I will be happy to note my progress however and post parts of it on occasion so you get an idea of what is happening.

Okay, about the story. The story will be set in modern times, though I am not really sure of the exact location. It will be the Midwest (simply because I am most familiar with the area). It may even be Fort Wayne (and as I type this my home city becomes legitimate as a setting because of some of the things in this town). The main character, named Scott Garvey, is a normal everyday guy who happens to love old books. One day he finds a dusty old relic at a used books store, and while it is water damaged and torn, he buys it simply because of nostalgic appeal. The book however, sets off a course of events which curses Scott. As he attempts to learn what he can he suffers the progressive misfortunes dictated within the book and source of the 1900 century child's nursery rhyme:

Solomon Grundy,
born on Monday
Christened on Tuesday
Married on Wednesday
Took ill on Thursday
Grew worse on Friday
Died on Saturday
Buried on Sunday
That was the end of Solomon Grundy

I've always been fascinated by the poem and as I was sitting, thinking about what I could write about, this poem came to me and I thought it would be a good story. I want it to me steeped in riddles and mystery. I've got an active imagination and wanted something less "real life" than Wyatt, with a bit more intrigue and excitement. I also wanted a solid plot, something people could sink their teeth in to. I hope this does it.

I would love to hear what you think about this particular plot line and story direction. Words of encouragement would also be appreciated.

The Last of Klinker

2009-01-02T08:37:00.002-05:00

Okay, here it is, finally. The last of Wyatt Klinker. I need to post this so I'm just going to go ahead and do it. Hope you enjoy...

CHAPTER 14: ROOMMATE

The last two days of the trip to Washington D.C. and the subsequent trip back were the best days of Wyatt’s life. He had awoke relatively late (nine o’clock) the next day and while he knew he hadn’t slept more than five or six hours, felt more alive than he had all week. He immediately got up, showered, and rushed downstairs, intent on being down there when Alex finally came down.
He was surprised to find her sitting in the breakfast room with Dr. Swanson, at the same table he had found her at the other day. The only difference was that she was almost giddy this morning.
“Now who’s the lazy one,” she chided him, her smile radiating across her face.
“Well, I had a difficult time sleeping,” he answered, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting down.
Dr. Swanson didn’t say anything; he just wore a cherubic smile as he sipped a glass of orange juice.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything,” she asked.
“I’m getting tired of this continental breakfast,” he replied, “and I didn’t have dinner last night so I’m really hungry. Have you eaten?”
She shook her head, “I was waiting for you.”
“Well, I owe you a meal after skipping out last night, would you like to got somewhere and get a real breakfast?”
“I would love to. You want to come with us Dr. Swanson?” she asked, looking at the old man.
“Oh no, I been sitting here for an hour and half and I’ve already eaten. I want to hit the town again so you two go ahead.” He grabbed up his copy of the Washington Post, and as he walked away he patted Wyatt on the shoulder, giving it a little squeeze before turning and walking out of the crowded breakfast room.
“Let’s get going so someone else can have our table,” Wyatt said as he got up and headed for the door.

Every waking hour over the following two days had been spent together. They ended the night kissing one another in the stairwell by the pool, forcing themselves to go separate ways when it became too late to stay awake.
Each morning they raced one another to get down to the breakfast room, and when it came it came to their last day in Washington, they actually ran into each other in the elevator on the way downstairs.
It was bittersweet leaving DC. They had found one another in the city and while they were returning to a routine they both knew well, they were doing so under completely different rules. Wyatt was excited about the prospect.
The trip back was long, and the rigors of a week exploring a city caught up with them. Instead of sharing a pillow, Alex, lifted the armrest separating the two of them and used Wyatt’s chest as a pillow. He loved when she cuddled up next to him. I let him smell her hair and soak in her heat.
They got back into Chicago late Sunday night and while they were glad to be home, the prospect of getting up the next morning and going to class did not appeal to any of the class.
Wyatt walked with Alex back to her dorm, pulling her suitcase behind him and he hauled his bag over his right shoulder. He held her hand and talked about how much he enjoyed the trip as they made there way back to her building. She had to remind him about how horrible the first few days had been, but he insisted on forgetting that part. It drew a little shove from her, but he defended himself by wrapping him in her arms and holding her tightly.
“Well, I’m beat,” he told her, letting her go.
“Yeah, I am too,” she answered, looking into his eyes.
“Can you bring my suitcase up to my room for me?” she asked, not taking an eye off of him.
“Sure, but it’s pretty late, I don’t want to wake up your roommate,” he replied, returning her stare.
Wyatt was surprised when he heard her chuckle.
“What” he asked.
“My roommate won’t hear you, just make sure you’re quiet.” She said, an odd smile crossing her face.
They made their way upstairs, getting off the elevator at her floor. Like the previous week, it was deathly quiet. They moved down the hall to her room as she fished for her keys in her purse. Wyatt waited to the right of the door while she unlocked it.
“You better stay out here in the hall while I check to see if she is sleeping,” she whispered as she slid the key into the lock.
Wyatt stood there, his back to the door as she slipped inside. He could hear her moving around and hoped she wouldn’t wake her roommate. On the other hand, he realized how tired he was and as much as he loved being around her, he really wanted to get back to his room so he could get unpacked and in bed.
He heard the door unlatch, though she didn’t open it. He waited a second before he heard her speak plainly, loud enough for him to hear through the crack in the door, “You can come in Wyatt, its okay.”
As the pushed through the door he realized that there was only a small desk lamp on illuminating the room. It was enough however for him to make out Alex, standing right in the middle.
He heart jumped when he saw her. She had stripped off all of her clothes and was standing in the light of the doorway, her right arm hiding her breasts while her other hand covered her private areas.
Wyatt was speechless.
“First, my dear, you need to close the door,” her sultry voice rang through his ears. “Secondly, I guess I never told you that I don’t have a roommate. She graduated last semester. Third, I’ve got something I’ve wanted to do to you all week.”
With that she reached for him and pulled him to her.

April 4th - Dear Starlog:

It was difficult going back to classes after getting back from Washington. Truth is, both Alex and I skipped Dr. Swanson’s history class on Monday morning. We were tired and frankly, we were having way too much fun in her room.
I’ve never been one to get all mooshy and sentimental, but the fact that Alex was my first really means a lot to me. When I was with her the other night I felt the same excitement I felt when Lindsey had come to my room, but it was different. Sure, it was exciting, and stimulating, but it was something else. I was with Alex, and she is, and always will be, everything I ever wanted in a woman.
Alex was a bit worried that I would be offended by the fact that she had already had sex before. I suppose it was pretty naïve of me to think otherwise. I, of course had to blurt out that I was clueless as to what she wanted having never been with a woman before. I assured her that it didn’t really matter to me, though afterward she did explain how she had been real serious about a boy when she was in high school. She had been enamored with him and had slept with him after the prom. I told her I completely understood, considering I was completely enamored with her.
I stayed with her in her room until we both got so hungry we had to get up. Dave was surprised to see me coming in at around noon carrying my bag from the DC trip. He immediately started asking questions. I didn’t want to answer them, but it didn’t take him long to figure out where I had been.
Let me tell you something about Dave. When he gets a hold of a piece of information, he will hound you about it until you come right out and tell him to quit. Frankly, I was floating on air when I got back and he could have asked me a thousand questions had I not had to get a shower and get down to the cafeteria so I could meet Alex.
In the end he was pretty happy for me. I know I’m happy for me. He keeps chiding me when I see her and because he has absolutely no couth, tries to get details about her.
The guy in me wants to tell him how sexy she is, how hot she makes me feel when we are together, but I know better. That is something her and I will share. If there is one thing I can do, its keep things to my self. All I told him is that she is incredibly beautiful and that I am lucky to have her.
This semester has given me a whole new perspective on life. For so long life was something that was lived, day by day, hour by grinding hour. I do know that in short order, in fact, in just a couple of short months I will be going back to my aunt and uncle house to live. I am curious to see how my new relationship with Alex will change the way I live that part of my life. I have a feeling it may be difficult.

CHAPTER 15: VIENNA

Wyatt knocked on Alex’s door, knowing that she would scold him for not just coming in. She had told him countless times that he was welcome to just come in whenever he wanted to. Regardless, every time he visited he first knocked.
Typically she would yell out to come in. Today was different though, today he just heard a muffled response to his knock.
He opened the door and found her sitting at the clean desk, the one she had not piled high with papers and books, the one that remained practical. When Wyatt had learned that he inhabited both desk he teased her about having dual personalities: an ultra organized one and a crazy slob like one who would be right at home with Wyatt’s roommate, Dave.
She had tried to explain that she didn’t like to have a messy work area, but couldn’t explain away the fact that she was too lazy to go through and take care of old papers and schoolwork that had accumulated since her old roommate had moved out. Wyatt had just laughed.
There was nothing funny about seeing Alex right now though. Her face was somber and Wyatt knew right away that something was wrong.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice serious.
“Wyatt, we need to talk,” was her response and Wyatt began to really worry.
“Will you sit down next to me?” she asked, patting the bed beside her.
He obliged her and sat down, taking her hand. He loved the feel of her hand in his, even though they were typically cold. They were thin and felt fragile and made him feel strong and protective.
“What’s the matter, Alex?” he repeated.
“Wyatt, I’m so sorry,” she couldn’t raise her head to look at him.
“Alex, tell me what’s going on,” Wyatt began to panic, thinking the worst.
The first thing that shot through his mind was that she was pregnant. Here it was, a mere two weeks before she graduated and she was hitting him with news like this. He didn’t think it was possible. They had been careful. Even during their first time she had been prepared. What could it be?
“Wyatt, please don’t be mad at me,” she pleaded. “I didn’t think this was going to happen.”
He was becoming impatient and panicky, he squeezed her hand tighter.
“Wyatt, I never told you this but the reason I told you all those months ago that I didn’t want anything more than a friendship was because I was afraid of going away after graduation and losing you,” she admitted, fighting through tears.
“At the beginning of the semester I signed up for an internship and after three different interviews I figured I had a pretty good chance of getting it. At the same time, I really started to fall for you. That’s when I told you I wasn’t interested.”
He prodded her to go on.
“I found out that someone else got the internship. That was right before the trip to Washington. At first I was disappointed, but when you and I opened up to each other I realized what a blessing it was that I didn’t get it.”
“So, what’s the problem then,” he asked, confused.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this,” she began crying outright. “I got a call this morning and it turns out that the girl who had gotten the internship can’t accept it. They offered it to me.”
Wyatt didn’t know what to say. At first he was happy that she had been selected. Then he realized that she wasn’t crying out of joy, but out of grief.
“The internship is in Vienna, Austria,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Oh,” was all he could say. He tried to consider this news and found that it just wouldn’t sink in.
“Wyatt, I don’t want to leave you,” she sobbed, “but I can’t turn down the internship either. I would be working as a page for the American Consulate.”
“Well how long would it be?” he asked, trying to formulate a plan.
“Two years,” she cried, again squeezing his hand.
He removed his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to him.
“Wyatt, I didn’t want this to happen,” she cried into his shoulder, “I really didn’t. When I got the first letter saying I hadn’t been selected I wasn’t even disappointed. I knew that I could have you.”
“You don’t have to take the job,” he answered, hopeful that she would consider that option.
“But Wyatt, I really don’t think an opportunity like this would ever come up again,” she argued.
He let go of her, “it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind?” he left the question hanging in the air.
“I don’t know what to do,” she answered, breaking into tears again. “I need to think about this.”
“But you’re considering taking it?” he continued to press.
This was a disaster in the making, he could feel it. He knew that she loved him, her actions over the last month and a half had been a clear indication of that, but he also knew how much her career meant to her. In their many nights together she had shared her ambitions. He realized that he had inadvertently encouraged her.
Just a week ago she talked about how she couldn’t wait to do something with her degree. He had told her that he would follow her anywhere; that she was so talented that it would be a crime to keep her from doing something she loved. Now, here he was, trying to keep her from just that.
He stood up, and turned to face her.
“Alexandra,” he said using her full name, something he rarely did. She looked up at him through teary eyes.
“Do you love me?” he asked, his voice cracking under the strain of what he was about to do.
“I know what you are going to say Wyatt, but its not fair for you to pressure me like this,” her voice rose with her level of frustration.
“Alex, just answer the question, please.”
“You know I love you like more than I’ve ever loved anyone,” she replied, shaking her head.
“Then I want you to take this job,” he couldn’t believe he was telling her this.
“Wyatt, I don’t know,” she stuttered.
“If you love me as much as I know I love you, then take the job. If you are being truthful to me then I believe that in two years you will come back to me. Alex, I don’t have a choice here, and neither do you.”
“You want me to take it Wyatt,” she seemed stunned.
“Alex, I don’t have a choice, you’ve got to take it now. If I was to deny you this opportunity you would resent me, and I know I can’t live with that. I know I can’t live without you for two years, but at least there is a chance that way.”
Tears were clearly rolling down his cheeks. His heart was beating so fast he was surprised he could maintain his balance. He hated this, he despised himself, but he couldn’t understand why.
This was like every other thing in his life. Just when he thought he had found a comfort zone he could appreciate, some kind of something would hit him square in the face and destroy everything. He wanted to run, to just disappear, and become one of the lost. To Wyatt, life was nothing more than a series of tragedies stacked one after another. This one was the worst.
Alex sat on the bed crying as Wyatt turned, opened the door, and walked out.

Wyatt walked for hours, lost among the streets of Chicago. Amongst the skyscrapers and honking cars he felt completely alone, like he was adrift at sea. He played the last six weeks over and over in his head. Sometimes he laughed at the events, other times he cried unabashedly. People glanced at him with strange looks but he notice. His mind was completely locked on the woman who had taken him out of his comfort zone, an area where only Wyatt lived. She had transformed him and now the prospect of returning to that life, the one of the isolation, completely revolted him. His stomach churned and at one time he retched in an alley, unable to control himself.
He returned back to campus well after midnight.
Dave was still up when he arrived back at his room.
“Dude, you okay?” his roommate asked. “Alex has called half a dozen times. Is everything alright? I couldn’t get her to stop crying the last time.”
“Dave, just let me sleep, okay man?” was the only response Wyatt would give him. He slipped off his shoes, threw his coat on a chair and climbed into bed. He didn’t bother to change clothes, just pulled the blanket up and rolled over to face the wall.

The next two weeks were difficult for both of them and while they spent nearly every moment they could together, many times it was strained and they would sit holding each other, both of them crying and wishing things were different. Wyatt was particularly distraught, knowing that he wouldn’t even have the solace of the university to provide him comfort. He would be heading back to his uncle’s shortly after graduation.
Alex was excited about graduation, and began to stress after accepting the page position with the consulate, but Wyatt did all he could to try to relieve it. He assured her that he would do whatever he could in order to come visit her. He promised he would write as often as he could and keep her informed as to how things were going back in Chicago.
While they still shared a passion for one another’s physical contact, they found that they appreciated just sitting together, or taking long walks in the warm spring evenings. Most of all they simply talked about the future. She constantly badgered him to not give up on school, to come back and get his degree.
“You better not quit school,” she teased. “I’m making a new rule. I only date seniors, so if you aren’t one by the time I get back, all bets are off.”
He chuckled, but they both knew it wasn’t funny. They accepted what was going to happen and the melancholy and turned to a numbness they both lived with.

Graduation day came too soon and Wyatt sat by himself at the top of the bleachers at the field house, crying when her name was called. He had dreaded this day and now it was here. Alex had told Wyatt that he could sit with her parents, but he had passed. Initially she was a bit offended, but when he explained he needed to be alone she understood.
He did have lunch with Alex and her family, accepting an invitation to share pizza at Louie’s per Alex’s suggestion. Being the first time he had met her parents, he was surprised how much he liked them. He was so used to all the parental figures in his family talking down to him that it meant a lot when Mr. Phillips asked him about what he was studying and what he wanted to do when he graduated. They all four carried on a conversation for a good two hours before the Phillips proclaimed that they needed to get back on the road for Rockford.
The ride back to the campus was subdued, with every mile that the train ticked off agonizing for Wyatt. He sat with Alex beside him, holding her hand and watching the scenery outside whip by. Alex’s parents sat watching the two of them and saw the pain in their daughter’s eyes, a feeling shared by the young man clinging to her hand.
Their goodbye was short and teary, said in the stairwell of Alex’s dorm while her parents waited in the van in the parking lot. She kissed Wyatt deeply and told him to never stop thinking about her, that on the other side of the ocean she would be thinking about him.
He couldn’t help but think that this would be the last time he ever saw her. He ran his hands through her red brown hair, then brought his finger down her oversized nose to rest on her lips.
“I will love you forever Alex,” he proclaimed to her.
“I will always love you Wyatt,” she reciprocated.
“Come back to me, please,” he begged her. “Don’t ever forget about me.”
“I won’t,” she promised as she kissed him for the last time.
“You’ve got to get going. Travel safe, and write as soon as you get there,” he instructed her.
“”I will, I promise.”
And with that she gathered up her remaining things and pushed through the fire door, leaving Wyatt alone in the gloomy stairwell.

June 1st – Dear Starlog

Yesterday I moved back home if that is what you want to call it. I am more miserable now than I have ever been. I miss Alex, though I did send her an email today. Not sure when she will get it. I anticipate that she’ll be busy for a few weeks as she gets settled. Funny, it really does feel like she is on the opposite side of the planet from me (actually I think she’s still in Rockford for another week or two before she heads to Europe).
It is ironic that out of the three people in my life that have actually loved me, I feel as if I’ve lost all of them in Europe.
It’s been a bit cold here. I had a blow up with Aunt Carla yesterday when I found out that she fired Chaya. I guess it was actually a mutual separation. Aunt Carla said that Chaya was lazy and continually made demands. She said that no servant of hers was going to tell her how things were going to be.
I called Chaya earlier and found out that she had gotten a job at a retirement home. Not only was she going to be doing housekeeping, but they were going to send her to school to be a nurse. They were more than happy to work around her and her schedule. Chaya I guess had just asked for the same from Aunt Carla and Aunt Carla had refused. While I hate to see her go, Chaya is better off and I think it’s funny that my aunt won’t have her to push around anymore.
Uncle Rich isn’t here very often, but that’s not anything new. I figured that he wouldn’t be changing his way anytime soon.
Lindsey isn’t around much. Uncle Rich finally bought her a car (a brand new Grand Prix) and she is gone most of the time. I suppose that is best. When she is around she still doesn’t talk to me. Not a big loss.

CHAPTER 16: GONE

Wyatt wasted away the first week of the summer sitting out by the pool, reading, or simply doing nothing. Aunt Carla had attempted to bribe him into doing chores around the house, be he refused, forcing her into doing things herself. She was having a difficult time replacing Chaya simply because she wouldn’t pay the full market value for a housekeeper willing to do all the tasks she wanted done.
Today he was out by the pool, napping in the shade when Lindsey came up and flopped down in the chair beside him. She was wearing a red bikini top and a pair of gray gym shorts. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of oversized sun glasses.
“Hey Wyatt,” she said, her voice low and reserved.
“Hi Lindsey,” Wyatt responded, his words dripping with condescension. He wasn’t really interested in talking to her in the slightest. She picked up on it right away.
“I’m sorry, okay?” she said plainly. “I was a real bitch to you last time you were home.”
“I agree,” he replied, not giving an inch.
“I shouldn’t have acted that way and I feel bad about what you saw in my room that night,” she continued, ignoring his comment.
“Lindsey, what you and your boyfriend do doesn’t really matter to me. I’ve had enough of you and your bullshit. I’d just as well you ignore me because I plan on ignoring you,” he said, maintaining a calm and steady voice. He wanted her to know that he was serious, that all he wanted was to survive the next few months and get away again.
“I suppose I deserve that,” she spoke, her voice a near whisper. “I’ve not been very fair to you, and I am sorry. Please forgive me Wyatt.” With that, she got up and walked away. She looked back once, but Wyatt just picked up his book and feigned reading. He wanted her to know that he was not joking this time.

Two days later Lindsey walked into Wyatt’s room while he was watching TV and sat down on the floor beside his bed.
“You still mad at me Wyatt?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Lindsey, I’m not really mad at you, I’m just indifferent to you. I would rather you just leave me alone, okay?” he replied, never taking his eyes off the television.
“Well, I’m not happy with you ignoring me,” she returned. “I know I screwed up and I feel bad, you don’t have to take it out on me all the time.”
“Lindsey, I’m not taking it out on you. I just want to be left alone, okay?”
“Why, what’s the matter,” she asked.
“Nothing, I just want to get through the summer and get back to school, okay?”
“What’s so bad about this place,” she kept prodding, “I don’t think it’s so bad. It would be better if there was someone I could hang out with. Hint, hint,” she nudged his leg.
“Please Lindsey, just leave me alone. Okay?”
“Alright,” she said as she hopped up, “but I’m just going to keep bugging you.” With that she turned and walked out of the room leaving Wyatt shaking his head.

The next day Wyatt was in the pool, floating on an air mattress when a huge splash rocked him and nearly toppled him into the water.
“What the hell”” he thought as Lindsey emerged from under the water beside him, laughing and spitting water.
“Did I surprise ya?” she howled, laughing at her little display.
“You almost knocked me off the raft. What the hell are you trying to do?” he yelled at her.
“Oh, ease up Wyatt, its not like I’m trying to drown you,” she answered back, splashing him across the chest.
Wyatt allowed himself to relax, resting his head back on the raft.
Lindsey swam over to him, she grabbed hold of the raft and started dragging it around the pool.
“Lindsey, stop it,” he complained.
“Make me stop,” she teased, not letting go. “You can ignore me this time but you’re going to get really wet.”
Wyatt didn’t want to play this game, but he knew that she wouldn’t let up. He allowed her to drag him around the pool a bit longer. When she took a handful of water and dripped it in his face he launched himself at her.
She was surprised at how fast he moved and tried to get away, but he was a much stronger swimmer and caught hold of her foot as she turned to swim away. He pulled her back to him and grabbing her by the pony tail, pulled her under water. He held her there for about ten seconds before letting her come up for breath. She was laughing when he did, so he immediately pushed her back under. After holding her under for a brief amount of time he pulled her up, spitting and sputtering.
This time it was Wyatt that laughed, “Thirsty Lindsey? You drank half the pool.”
She immediately splashed him and dove at him, trying to pull him under. Wyatt let her get her arms wrapped around him before he voluntarily went under, pulling her with him. He felt her let go of his neck and kicked to the surface, likely sputtering some more.
Wyatt broke the surface of the water laughing. She had kicked her way to the edge and was holding on looking at him, smiling. “You jerk!” she shouted.
“Jerk? You were the one who was harassing me!” he laughed back, wiping the water from his eyes.
He watched her as she pulled herself out of the pool. She was wearing the same red bikini minus the gray shorts she had worn to cover the bottoms. There was no denying that she had a nice body, but when Wyatt looked at her, he saw Alex and his heart jumped. He knew that regardless of what happened throughout the rest of his life, all women would be judge versus her. While he was depressed thinking about her, this made him feel good, as if the memory of her alone would be enough to keep him going and the fact that others immediately brought image of her to mind.
Lindsey grabbed a towel and yelled over to Wyatt, “Are you getting out too?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” he answered, swimming to the side.
“You want something to drink?” she asked, making her way to the door to the house.
“Sure, I’ll take something,” he replied, reaching the side of the pool.
When she came back out carrying a tray with two glasses of ice, a large bottle of soda and a bottle of whiskey Wyatt almost came unglued.
It was if Lindsey could read his mind, “I thought you didn’t care about me?”
Wyatt didn’t know what to say. Every time he had played parent to Lindsey it had backfired. He forced himself to calm down and resolved not to be judgmental. Instead, he would play along, see what she did.
“I don’t care about you,” he told her, “no give me something to drink.”
He watched as she poured a healthy portion of scotch into each glass and topped it off with soda. She slid his glass over to him and took one for herself, lifting it as if toasting.
“Drink up, Wyatt,” she said, drinking deeply from her glass.
He did the same and felt the burn of the alcohol as it went down. The drink was incredibly strong and Wyatt wasn’t a huge fan of hard liquor. He exhaled deeply as he brought the glass down, drawing a chuckle from her.
“What’s the matter Wy, too strong for you? I think we have some Kool-Aid in there if that would suit you better,” she teased.
“Oh, and you are a big drinker?” he guffawed. “I bet you can’t even finish that drink, Miss Light Weight.”
“I can finish it before you can finish yours,” she challenged, lifting her glass.
“Whatever,” he waved her off.
“Come on big shot, pick up your glass and let’s do this,” she ordered, staring him down.
“Okay, but loser has to do a shot of whiskey,” he replied, confident he would beat her.
“Just a shot? I bet you five shots that I can beat you!”
“What are you going to do when your Dad comes home and finds you falling down drunk?” he asked, smiling.
“He’ll come home wondering why you’re lying passed out beside the pool. So five shots then?”
He didn’t think for more than a second before he nodded and picked up his glass.
On the count of three they both started drinking. Again, Wyatt felt the alcohol burn his throat as he swallowed the potent liquid. He finished his drink and slammed it down just a second after Lindsey had done the same with his.
She threw her arms up into the air and shouted, “I win! I win!”
Wyatt turned red with shame. Here he was playing drinking games with a seventeen year old and he had been beaten.
“You want me to get the shot glasses or do you want me to pour right into the cup,” she asked, laughing as she did so.
The look on Wyatt’s face prompted her to turn serious, “Oh no, you’re not backing out of this. A bet is a bet,” she said.
“I’m not backing out,” he grumbled. “Just pour it into this glass, no sense dirtying up any more.”
She unstoppered the bottle and began pouring. Wyatt was pretty sure that there was more than just five shots in his cup, but he wasn’t about to argue. Lindsey poured some into her glass as well, “I can’t let you drink alone.”
The two sat in shade sipping on the whiskey. It wasn’t Wyatt’s favorite way to drink the stuff, matter of fact, he didn’t care for the taste in the least. He just wanted to be done with the stuff.
“So,” Lindsey began after sitting quietly for a few minutes, “what is college like? Do you like it?”
“I did, up until the end of this year,” he answered instinctively.
“Why’s that?” she prodded.
Wyatt wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about it, but the alcohol was having an effect on him that resulted him in talking a bit more than he normally would given the circumstances.
“I had to break up with my girlfriend. She graduated and is moving away,” he revealed.
“Oh. Where is she moving to?” came the follow-up question.
Wyatt chuckled, “Vienna, Austria.”
“Wow, that makes for a pretty serious long distance relationship,” she returned.
“Tell me about it. I really miss her,” he took a long pull off his glass. The whiskey was going down smoother now and Wyatt found himself mellowing out significantly.
“What was her name?”
“Alex,” he paused, “her full name is Alexandra.”
She continued to ask questions as he poured out the answers. He revealed how quickly their relationship had evolved, how Alex had denied his because of the prospect of the job in Austria, only to finally give herself wholly to him when it looked as if she was going to be staying in the States.
In turn Lindsey told Wyatt about Greg, and how she had been a little bitch and had tried to make Wyatt jealous. She had regretted that night ever since and felt terrible about how she had acted.
They talked for an hour, sipping whiskey and refilling their glasses when they were empty.
“I’m sorry about you losing your girlfriend,” Lindsey slurred after sitting for ten minutes without saying much of anything.
“Thanks Lindsey. I was wrong about you. You’re a pretty decent girl.”
Wyatt was pretty oblivious to everything going on around him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip into semi-consciousness.
He felt like he was floating, his mind clouded and confused. It was a pleasant feeling. He was in a state of euphoria, an area of numbness. After so many days of missing Alex, he welcomed the feeling. He was surprised when he seemingly saw her standing in front of him, straddling the lounge chair he was sitting in. She smiled down at him.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Wyatt,” she said, her voice missing that sultry deepness he loved so much.
His eyes were half open and glazed as he watched her reach behind her back and undo the bikini top she was wearing. She pulled it off revealing her chest to him and Wyatt smiled. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered and he felt himself begin to respond.
Wyatt followed her fingers as she untied the sides of her bikini bottoms, allowing them to fall to the floor of the patio. She sat down on his lap and scooted forward until she was right on top of him. Her eyes were different, but Wyatt didn’t care. He buried his head between her breasts as she grabbed his hair and pulled him to her. He felt like he was on fire as she ground herself into his lap. He missed her so bad and wanted to be with her more than anything. He felt like it was a miracle that she had shown up here today while he was sitting on the patio talking with Lindsey.
His mind snapped to reality when he realized what he was doing. The alcoholic cloud that shrouded his mind dissipated immediately and he knew exactly what was happening. At the same time he heard the scream.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER, YOU PERVERTED SONOFABITCH!” his aunt’s voice was shrill and biting. He pushed Lindsey off of him and she fell to the pavement, laughing.
“It’s not what you think Aunt Carla,” Wyatt stuttered, trying to defend himself.
Her voice didn’t lose any of its intensity, “I know exactly what this is!” She glanced as the near empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the table. “You got my daughter drunk so you could take advantage of her. You’re a goddamn pervert! Lindsey, get in the house!”
Wyatt was stunned; he didn’t know what to do. He felt like a cornered animal. He tried to stutter out a defense but knew there was no way she was going to believe him.
“I should call the police. You’re her cousin you sick bastard,” Carla shouted. “I want you out of my house. Get out you bastard, you make me sick.”
“It was her Aunt Carla,” Wyatt tried to explain, but she wasn’t listening.
“Get your stuff and get out or I’m going to call the police and have you arrested,” her voice was barely above a whisper as she repeated her orders.
There wasn’t much Wyatt could do. He got up and moved towards the house. He was in shock and couldn’t comprehend the situation. Carla clarified it.
“Just get your shit and leave,” she commanded. “I want you gone in ten minutes.”

June 19th - Dear Starlog:

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go, who to call. I tried to reach Alex but she is gone already. Her parents apologized but seemed a bit distant. Before I hung up her mom told me that maybe it wasn’t meant to be between her and I and that I needed to let Alex live her life. I seriously doubt she has any idea what kind of hell I’m going through.
I can’t believe Aunt Carla kicked me out. Actually, I do believe it considering what she caught me doing with her daughter. I just wish she understood that I wasn’t the instigator in all this, that Lindsey is even guiltier than I am. I knew I should have kept my distance from her. I bet she did all of this on purpose. I doubt she thought she was going to get caught, but I have no doubt that she had never gotten past that night I threw her out of my room.
I don’t know what to do. Last night a buddy of mine from school let me crash in his dorm room. He’s taking summer term and didn’t mind me sleeping on the floor. I can’t stay forever though. I don’t have much money and I left my cell phone because Uncle Rich was paying for it. I don’t have anything but my backpack full of clothes and this journal. I certainly don’t have a family I can rely on.
I might try heading for New Jersey to see my uncle that lives there. I know he would want me even less than Uncle Rich and Aunt Carla, but I just don’t know what to do.

CHAPTER 17: EARL

The streets of Chicago were busy on a Tuesday morning but no more so than they had been for the last few days as Wyatt wasted away his time walking around the city. He had moved out of Shawn’s room yesterday after four days of living there. It was just too hard for Wyatt to rely on him. He had no money for food so Wyatt had been forced to beg food off of his friend and he couldn’t bring himself to do that for very long.
The sun was hot and Wyatt wanted to get into the shade so as to conserve his energy. If last night had been any indication of what he could expect tonight, then he was sure he would need it. He had tried to find a place to sleep at a church but they had turned him away. They had pointed him to a shelter but Wyatt just didn’t have the humility in him to seek it out.
He had ended up sleeping beneath an oak tree in Columbus Park using his backpack for a pillow. He hadn’t slept though. Even in seclusion of the dark and wooded area he was afraid of the encroaching city and the seedy elements of the city. He was certain that a lot of those stories of gangs and thugs had been fiction, but he still worried and failed to sleep. As the sun came up in the morning he met the day with the dread of uncertainty.
His wandering took him past Louie’s and the smell of fresh baked pizza. Wyatt was hungry and while he had a few dollars left, he wanted to conserve them for when he really needed them.
He didn’t think about where he was going, just walked, eventually finding himself at the subway station. He didn’t know why he end up here; maybe he was just used to this route having taken it more than once from Louie’s before taking the train home, both to Aunt Carla’s and college.
As he stood outside the station the bleak thought that there was no place for him to go hit him. For the first time in his life he rally had no destination. Even when he was bored or tired of living at home with his parents he knew what direction he was heading, where he was going. When he was going to college for the first year, clueless as to what he wanted to do, he still had a destination to work towards. Now he was completely and utterly lost. He leaned against the building and slid to the sidewalk, fighting to keep from breaking down.
“Son, that’s my spot,” came a voice from above him.
“What?” Wyatt asked, looking up.
“You’re sitting in my spot, boy. You need to git up,” the voice repeated.
Some about the man looked strangely familiar and Wyatt puzzled to place him. The man started to lose patient quickly however and nudged Wyatt with his boot.
Wyatt struggled to his feet, the weight of the backpack throwing him off balance. As he did so he remembered where he had seen the man before. He was the same grey bearded man that had asked him and Lindsey for change nearly a year ago to the day. Typically he wouldn’t have remembered a detail like that, but he had run into the man the same day he had heard about his parents’ death. The entirety of that day had been etched in Wyatt’s mind, even the face of the poor panhandler that had asked for a buck to get a sandwich.
Wyatt couldn’t help but stare at the man. He hadn’t changed much; in fact his clothes were almost identical to the ones he had worn that day a year ago. Wyatt did notice that he was wearing a navy blue t-shirt with a big “Spam canned meat” logo on it, which was a marked difference.
“What you looking at, son?” the man asked, uncomfortable with Wyatt’s inspection.
“I remember you. I remember you from last year when I came by here. You asked me and my cousin for money so you could buy a sandwich,” Wyatt revealed.
“Well, did you give me any money?” the man asked.
“I wanted to, but,” and Wyatt’s felt ashamed now for admitting it, “but my cousin told me not to give money to bums.”
“I hear that a lot. Part of the business I suppose. I am impressed that you remembered me though,” the man admitted. “Say, you wouldn’t have a buck or two you could give me now so I could get a sandwich or something?”
“I wish I could, sir, but truth is I got kicked out of my house and I don’t have any place to live now. I have a few dollars but I have no idea how long it is going to be before I find a place to live, so I figured I’d better save them.”
“That’s just not right, you not having a place to live. What happened to you that got you kicked out?” the man asked, curious.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking about it to a complete stranger, but thanks for asking. I guess I’ll go find somewhere else to rest. Sorry bout taking your spot,” Wyatt apologized before turning to leave.
“Wait, son, you kin sit wit me. There’s plenty of room. Come on, sit down. Ain’t many people coming this way this time of day anyhow. Gotta wait til they git out of work before I can start makin some money. So sit down, we can talk for a bit.”
The man waved him back, ushered Wyatt to sit beside him.
Wyatt flopped down, pulling his backpack on to his lap as he did so. The man held out his old weathered hand for Wyatt to shake and offered up his name to the younger man, “Earl. My name’s Earl Collinger. You?”
“My name is Wyatt Klinker, pleasure to meet you Earl,” Wyatt replied, taking the man’s proffered hand and shaking it.
Earl turned his head away and just stared off across the street, seemingly ignorant to the young man he just welcomed to sit beside him. Wyatt didn’t really care. He was seeing Chicago from a whole new perspective. Not often did everyday people sit down on the sidewalk of a busy metropolitan street and simply ignore the throngs of millions passing them by. Wyatt felt like this was a microcosm of his entire life. Here he was, nineteen years old and he had absolutely nothing and no one to rely on, to call on for help. He felt miserable.
That sat quietly for about ten minutes before Earl spoke.
“So, takin a look at life from the bottom, eh? Ain’t much to see down here but people lookin down their noses at you. Not a good place to be, nope. Not a good place at all. So, how’d you git here boy, and why is it that old Earl has become the only friend you got in the world?”
Wyatt went on to explain how he had ended up here, including how he had come to Chicago from Boston, lost his parents and been forced to live with Lindsey and her parents. He told him about being a student at IU-Chicago and losing his one true love to the Austrian’s. He also told him about how he had let Lindsey manipulate him and eventually get him kicked out of his house.
Earl was an impartial audience. He listened but didn’t say anything, instead choosing to just nod or grunt occasionally as Wyatt talked. When Wyatt had said all he felt he could or would want to say Earl just stared off across the street again, not speaking, just staring.
Just like before he sat there until he decided to talk.
“That’s rough son, but ya know, you still got your health. You still got your youth, and that’s a whole lot more than a lot of people like you and me’s got. World’s not a good place sometimes. But ya know what? Even us bottom dwellers got something to live for once in awhile.”
Wyatt followed Earl’s example and just listened. When the old man was done talking he just stared across the street and allowed his mind to digest the information he had just heard. He was about to talk when Earl spoke, “You said you gots some money on ya?”
“Yeah, I’ve got about twenty dollars,” Wyatt answered before adding, “but I don’t want to spend it in case I need it later.”
“Listen son, I’ve lived on the streets for about twenty years now, and the one thing I’ve learned is that you got to live today cuz you never know ‘bout tomorrow. Seems to me that a week ago you were livin the life and lookie whats happening now to ya. That twenty is going to be gone one day. You might as well make it gone on your own terms.”
Wyatt thought about that for a minute. That made sense. He could stretch the twenty dollars over a week, eating only when he absolutely had to, but eventually it too would be gone. He realized that the money was a symbol of everything that had happened in his life. He knew he had loved his parents, that given their differences they were still caring and nurturing and he had lost them before he was ready. He had never told them how he felt, or been able to enjoy some of the real milestones that life had to offer.
Alex had left him just as suddenly and while he had loved every minute he had spent with her, he felt like there was so much more to be experienced. He knew that there was a bleak chance he would see her again, and even if that happened there was no guarantee that she would want him the way he wanted her. He had lost her way too early, certainly not on his terms.
Then there was his home with his aunt and uncle. Granted, they were a pain to live with, but they were there when he needed them. They gave him shelter, food and direction. He had never told them thank you before being thrown out. Again, he lived not on his terms, but on those of others.
“You hungry Earl?” Wyatt asked, jumping to his feet.
“I’m always hungry, son. What you have in mind?” he replied as he struggled to get up.
Wyatt grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his feet, “You like pizza?”

The two of them ate pizza and drank sodas at Louie’s, laughing and talking like they had been friends forever. Wyatt never asked about Earl’s history and Earl never offered any information, other than that he had not always been homeless and that he had actually had a wife, kids, a home and a job before things all went downhill.
When they were done (having finished the whole pizza, a first for Wyatt) and the waiter brought them the bill, Wyatt fished in to his pocket where he found the crumpled up twenty. The bill had come to nineteen thirty-five and Wyatt felt bad that he couldn’t offer a bigger tip but promised himself that he would leave and extra large one the next time he came, just to make up for this visit.
The thought of coming back here made Wyatt feel better. Prior to meeting Earl he had thought that the world was coming to an end. He was sure that it would be hard for awhile, but he knew he wasn’t as destitute as he had initially felt.
They walked out the front door together and Wyatt yawned.
“Well, I think I may head over to the park and see about getting some sleep,” he told Earl as they walked.
“Bullshit, son, yer coming with me,” the old bum replied.
Granted they didn’t know each other longer than a few hours, but Wyatt knew when Earl was insistent it wasn’t worth fighting him.
The two of them walked through the streets, making their way off of the main thoroughfares and onto the quieter side streets. They walked about three blocks before they ran into the elevated tracks of the “L”. Earl continued to lead, Wyatt following silently, knowing better than to ask where they were going.
When they got to a viaduct, Earl announced, “Well, this is home.”
Earl led him up the steep embankment and under the bridge. A hodgepodge of cardboard, sheet metal and plywood cordoned off various sections of the viaduct. Wyatt saw a variety of people milling around as well. Earl showed him to an area that looked as sturdy and any of the others and pulled aside a cardboard flap. Inside Wyatt could see a pile of old blankets, clothes and cardboard stacked to create a makeshift bed.
“You can sleep here tonight, but tomorrow you’ll be on yer own,” Earl explained.
“But I can’t take your bed,” Wyatt argued.
“Oh, dontcha be worrying ‘bout me. There’s another bed just over there. Been empty ‘bout a week. Right now it’s the guest bedroom, so you go ahead and take my place tonight. Least I can do after you fed me and all.”
Wyatt just smiled, thinking how fortunate he had been to meet Earl, “Thank you Earl, I really appreciate this.”
“That’s what friends are for, son. Now you get some sleep.”

July 14th – Dear Starlog

It’s been a month since I was tossed out of Uncle Rich’s house and I couldn’t be happier. I’m not living on the street anymore so that is a good thing and I’m all set for school to start up again in about a month and a half, so I’ve got that to look forward to.
The night after I slept in Earl’s place under the viaduct he got hold of a cell phone (he told me not to ask where is friend, Fingers, had managed to acquire it from) and forced me to make some calls. My first one was to Chaya, who was happy to hear from me. She loved her new job, though it was difficult going to school and working. When she found out that the Morgan’s had thrown me out she invited me to stay with her on the condition that I would help watch the kids when she had to work. So far it has been a great arrangement. I share a room with Eduardo, which is cool. He kicks my ass at video games whenever he gets a chance.
I feel comfortable there. Chaya is a great person and I’ve learned a lot about her. She isn’t at all shy and reserved at home. She says that I really helped her come out of her shell. I don’t think I did anything but I’m glad to see she is happier.
When I met Earl I didn’t think I had a friend in the world. Turns out I have plenty of friends after all. I called my buddy Steve and talked to his mom, Charlene. She agreed to be the executor of my family’s estate. That means that the finances that were going to my uncle to help pay for my college will not be filtered through Charlene. She told me that my folks had actually left me plenty of money, enough for not only tuition but for living expenses as well. In fact, I could probably live on the money that has been allotted but Charlene and I both agree that the money would probably be best spent by giving it to Chaya to help pay for my rent. The rest will go to my tuition.
The call to my uncle’s house wasn’t a very pleasant one. I really didn’t want to make it, but because of the whole tuition thing, it had to be done. My aunt answered the phone and gave me a few choice words. I told her she needed to ask her daughter about the night she snuck into my room. That shut her up.
Aunt Carla told my uncle that the money my parents left me should stay with them after what I had tried doing with their daughter. My uncle is such a wimp that he didn’t want to fight with her about it. It wasn’t until Charlene had the attorney call that they finally decided to signoff on the custodial responsibilities of the estate and give them to Steve’s mom. She really rocks. I love her.
Dave is coming back to school in the fall and we plan of rooming together again. He told me that he thinks he wants to change his major to philosophy, so I may have to put up with him for another year, if I was willing. I told him I couldn’t think of anyone I would rather room with. He called me a liar and I had to tell him I was serious. Then he said “Alex”. I guess I am a liar.
Speaking of Alex, I got an email from her yesterday. She really loves Austria. She said her job is horrible and she is just a glorified gopher. She did say that after time she figures they will give her more responsibility. She went into a lot of detail about the country and the people and all that but the most important thing she said was that she still missed me.

EPILOGUE:

Wyatt pushed against the crowds, working his way through O’Hare, trying to find the correct terminal. He was sure he was late. The traffic around the airport was always horrible and finding a parking spot was impossible.
It had been a busy, emotion filled week. School had just started and Wyatt was just starting his senior year. He and Dave had gotten an apartment off campus and they had struggled to get all moved in before classed started. It was going to be a busy year with a monster senior thesis due for his major by year’s end. Dr. Swanson was working closely with Wyatt and really wanted him to succeed. On top of that Wyatt had landed a part time job working for the Museum of Science and Industry.
Chaya was upset, as she normally was when Wyatt left to go back to school, but this was worse. She knew that with Wyatt having a real job and a real apartment that he wasn’t likely to move back in with her. The kids had cried when he left, even after he promised to stop by and visit every week. Wyatt was sad too. She had been so good to him and the kids were like the brother and sisters he had never had. He was going to miss them.
The Saturday before they were supposed to move in Wyatt had went downtown to find Earl and tell him about their new place. When he couldn’t find him by the train station, his normal haunt, he wandered over to the viaduct where the old man had shown such hospitality two years earlier. Wyatt was shocked to find out from one of the derelicts there that Earl had been beat and kicked to death by a group of kids who thought it would be funny to pick on an old bum. According to some of the people who saw the whole thing, Earl never even fought back, he just sat there staring at the kids as they beat him. He died later that night in the waiting area of the emergency room as the hospital staff argued over whether or not they could treat someone who was homeless.
Wyatt had gotten in touch with the city morgue and arranged for a proper casket and burial for his friend. His trust had been released to him when he turned twenty-one the previous March and he could think of nothing better to do with some of the money than to hour his old friend who had lifted him from the depths when he needed it most.
On top of all the things happening over the span of the last couple weeks he had gotten a text message with a simple note:

Tuesday, September 6 1:45pm Gate 133. Flight 663.

When he saw the area code of the number he knew exactly what it meant. He called Dr. Swanson and told him he would be missing his one o’clock class that day and assured the professor that it was a legitimate reason. When he explained the old man just asked him why he hadn’t said so in the first place.
Now Wyatt found him at Gate 133, looking and seeing that the plane had evidently not arrived yet. He sat down in one of the chairs, noticing that they were the same egg shell like seats he had sat in almost three and a half year earlier to wait for his uncle to pick him up.
Sitting there, he thought about the family that had taken him back then. He had found out from Chaya that she heard that Uncle Rich had left Aunt Carla after she found out that he was having an affair with a girl from his office. They weren’t even divorced before he proposed to the much younger girl. Aunt Carla was indignant about the whole thing of course and tried to get all she could from him, including custody of Lindsey. Of course Lindsey had just turned eighteen and resented the fact that her mother was still treating her like a little girl. Chaya had told Wyatt a month ago that Lindsey was now pregnant and living with a guy who drives truck for a living.
Wyatt couldn’t help but wonder how his life would have turned out had he stayed in Boston, had his parents not taken that trip to Europe when they did. He imagined that he would still be at home, that he would still be one that sat and watched others rather than a person who threw themselves at life and lived like it was supposed to be lived.
Wyatt thought about how life was filled with bittersweet moments; that for every gain there was a loss and vice versa. He was twenty-one years old and he had walked through his own personal Hell and at the same time he had strolled the paths of Heaven, arm in arm with an angel.
Now, as he sat in the airport, he realized that everything was in the balance. Wyatt wasn’t a big believer in karma, certainly not now after all he had experienced in life. He believed that life was what you made out of it. Yet after all the triumph and tragedies he had endured, he wondered which way the pendulum would sway now, at a time he had been waiting for had finally arrived.
The excitement started to build when he saw the monitor in the waiting area display that flight 663 had arrived. He stood and made his wait towards the gate, trying to see around both the people in front of, and the ones coming towards him.
He thought back to a week ago when he had gotten the text message from Mrs. Phillips in Rockford, Illinois. Alex’s internship was over and she was coming home.
Wyatt wasn’t sure if she would be happy that her parents had asked him to pick her up and drive her back to Rockford or not. This would be a complete surprise to her. Somehow, somewhere deep in the back of Wyatt’s mind, he felt as if the string of bad luck that had plague him had ended and that everything was moving in the right directions.
Just coming through the doorway Wyatt caught sight of a woman with reddish brown hair. He wasn’t sure if it was her or not until he caught sight of her face. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him, the person behind her nearly running her over.
Wyatt didn’t know what to think when he saw her face. It was the epitome of surprise and for a moment Wyatt thought maybe she was angry. Then she shook her head, smiled through tears that immediately started running down her face and ran to his outstretched arms.

Book Review: The Road

2009-01-02T08:27:00.002-05:00

First off, sorry, haven't did much posting. Hopefully I'll get back at it.

Now, I just got the book "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy for Christmas. It isn't a terribly long book and has sizable print so I flew through it. It only took me two days to go cover to cover and part of me wishes I would have taken it slower. It was an exceptional story and is well deserving of the Pulitzer Prize it won.

The book is set in not so distant future, but to say it is futuristic would be wrong. It isn't science fiction, instead, it is a look at what could happen to America (or the world for that matter) if we were set upon by an apocalypse. The story is dark and lacks any sense of hope, even though at the back of your mind you're hoping that some sort of utopia exists for the two protagonists.

The world is a mess. Everything has been burned and looted. An apocalypse happened some ten years earlier and survivors are few and far between. A man and his boy (they have no names in the book) walk the road trying to survive. They push a grocery cart, mile after mile with all their worldly possessions hoping to find someplace where they can live, where they can survive. They search through abandon houses to find food and sleep in hiding, hoping their small camp fire isn't seen by others who would set upon to take their things or worse yet, their lives.

It is a sad story, yet it is beautiful in the bond shared between father and son. They are what keep the other alive and it is quite evident throughout the entire story.

The writing is fairly complex. The author has an incredible vocabulary and the first page of the book is almost too complex for me to read. It is a good thing I pushed through deeper into the book, because after the first page you failed to notice the complexity of the writing and really began to understand the story. McCarthy is the kind of writer I wish I could be.

The other thing about the book that you should receive warning is that like the raw, desolate setting of the story, so is the punctuation and grammar of the story. He uses no real punctuation, other than periods. There are few commas and he never uses a quotation mark to determine who or when someone is talking. This however works very well and as I mentioned previously, seemingly adds to the story itself.

The book is incredible. I will warn you that there are moments where you lose all hope in humanity, that you feel horrible for what the people are doing and wonder if had been better if all of humanity had been completely wiped out. Yeah, it is that bad.

Anyway, you deserve to pick up this book and read it. It is wonderful and beautiful and depressing and enlightening all at the same time. When I finished the first thing I did was turned to the first page and started reading it again. Yeah, that good.

Bad Day

2008-12-11T18:34:00.002-05:00

Well, the thing I prayed wouldn't happen did today. As I was getting ready to leave the plant manager called me into his office and told me that my job was being eliminated due to the financial crush that is occurring in the automotive industry throughout the country.

I'm numb. That's about the best way to describe it. I really don't know what I am going to to. I almost feel a panic is starting to set in but then I manage to quell it. I'm worried about my family, my house. I'm worried that Christmas is going to be a disaster. I worry about finding a job because frankly there isn't a whole lot around here. Money is so tight with us that I need something that pays comparable to what I was making at the foundry. I worry about getting sick, because truthfully I can't afford Cobra. It is just way too expensive for the whole family.

I worry about Megan. She is reliant on my insurance right now. I don't know what I'm going to do.

Tomorrow is my official last day. I'm going to go in for a couple of hours, then head over to our corporate office to say goodbye to everyone. I doubt I will really get anything done. That said, I'm not one to slough my responsibilities. I'll go in and get the stuff done I need to get done, then I'll leave. That's it. A culmination of 12 years of service, reduce to a severance package of 6 days owed to me due to having vacation time remaining.

Wish me luck, pray for me, cut the head off a chicken and sacrifice it to the god of employment. Whatever it takes to get me back working, I need all the help I can get.

Wyatt Klinker Section 12

2008-12-10T14:48:00.002-05:00

Well, things are looking a little less bleak here at work. I'm still not out of the woods, and I may still lose my job in two days when the layoffs are announced, but I'm feeling more confident that it won't be me. Call it a gut feeling, but there are just things happening that lead me to believe that I'm not going anywhere.

On the home front, things are going okay. Gracie is in a weird kind of funk and I don't know what to do with it, other than shower her with attention. She acts bored all the time and mopes around. I've tried to do more things with her. Last night I taught her how to play a dice game and she really enjoyed that. I will also try reading to her more. I want her to be the sweet little happy girl I know and love, not the depressing one she's been the last couple of weeks.

Last weekend's trip to Libby-Lu's was a good one. In case you didn't know, Libby-Lu's is a little girl store where they do the hair and makeup for girls then give them little trinkets to complete the look. Grace and her friend Autumn got the rock star look including head phones and glitter in their hair. They looked cute. She was really excited and had a great time. Libby-Lu's is closing for good after the first of the year, so hopefully we can get her back one more time before they do.

On the Wyatt front, I've done absolutely nothing. I need to work on the editing so I can get the thing turned in to the printer. I'm just a bit burned out, plus this whole deal at work has kept me on edge. Hopefully soon.

I am also tearing through ideas for my next book. I'm playing with one right now, but want to get a good outline before I start. It should be fun. I'm excited about starting but don't want to until I'm ready. It's all about planning for this one.

Okay,almost done with Wyatt's story. I am posting chapter 13 today out of a total of 17 plus the Epilogue. Hopefully by next week I will have run all the chapters by you and I can get the final feedback. Until then, thanks for reading.

CHAPTER 13: DISAPPOINTMENT

Wyatt started the next morning off with another early breakfast, sharing a table with Dr. Swanson and breaking down what they each had planned for the day. Wyatt had originally thought about asking the older man if he wanted company for a second day, but thought better, figuring that the professor would make good on his promise to tag along with someone else today. Besides, Wyatt had told Alex that he would hang out with her today. That hadn’t prevented him from asking Kyle, Mike, Chuck and a few other people from the class to go with them though.
He had it worked out that they would visit the National Archives and the Library of Congress. These were two stops on their “walking test” and Wyatt had reasoned with his roommate that they should get their schoolwork out of the way early so that by Friday they could do something they wanted, like hang out at the Hardrock Café or something like that and not worry about finishing their work.
Alex was a bit put off when she met him, along with eight others who would be touring with them that day, in the breakfast room. She had been the last one to arrive and looked a bit frustrated when everyone got up as if to get started. She grabbed a banana and tucked it into her pocket then snatched up a blueberry muffin to eat on the way.
“I wish you would have told me that there were a bunch of us going,” she whispered to Wyatt, pulling on the sleeve of his jacket.
“Oh, sorry. Kyle and I were talking and we figured it would be cool to go as a group. I didn’t think you’d mind,” he replied, trying to keep his voice light and non-combative.
“If I would have known that I would have hurried so I didn’t look like an idiot being the last one to show up. I figured it just be you and me.”
“Don’t worry about it, nobody cares,” he answered, “Let’s just enjoy the city.”
Wyatt ignored the comment about it just being the two of them and Alex didn’t push it. He was glad of that.
The day was actually pretty pleasant. Wyatt was able to interact with Alex without feeling as if there was any pressure being exerted on him due to how he felt about her. It didn’t hurt that Alex was a bit cold, distant and moody. Wyatt understood, but in the end he knew it was necessary. In the end she was going to be angry with him. They were both going to end up hurt, but Wyatt couldn’t allow it to continue.
The historical aspects of the city really suited Wyatt. Besides that, he was able to maintain focus on the scholastic as opposed to the social which was so prevalent when he and Alex were together. In the end she even got into it and made it a quest for accomplishment.
Weary from a long day walking, the group piled on the subway to head back to the hotel. Alex sat across from Wyatt, looking at him as he stared out the window into the darkness of the train tunnel.
“You want to go grab something to eat when we get back,” she asked, breaking the trance he seemed to be in.
“Well, Kyle and Chuck asked me to go with them to the hotel restaurant when we get back. After that I guess we’re all going back to Chuck’s room to hang out. I’m sure you can come with us if you want,” he had planned out his response, somewhat sure of how she would answer.
“Oh, okay,” she replied, the disappointment showing in her voice. “No, you go ahead and hang out with them. My feet hurt and I think I’m just going to watch some TV then crash early.”
“You sure?” Wyatt asked, relieved that she had answered how he figured she would.
“Yeah, you go ahead,” she answered.
She didn’t say anything more for quite sometime, before looking straight at him and asking, “Wyatt, can you and I go out to dinner or something tomorrow night? Just you and I?” Her voice was quiet and higher in pitch than normal, like she was pleading with him.
Wyatt felt trapped. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings but he had to stick with his plan. He scurried for an excuse, “Well, I thought a bunch of people were going to the Smithsonian tomorrow then eating around there. I guess there’s some IMAX show or something everyone wanted to go to. I was planning on doing that.”
Her face began to crack, her emotions getting the best of her and Wyatt weakened. He couldn’t bear to watch her so he quickly added, “But we could go Thursday. I don’t have anything planned then. Would you like to go then?”
She looked at him with a strained smile and nodded. He could see her mind racing and he wanted to just reach out and hold her, but he wouldn’t, he had to remain resolved.
“You want to come with us to the Smithsonian tomorrow? You’re welcome, you know that, don’t you?” he tried to minimize the damage.
“I don’t think so Wyatt. I think I’ll check with Shelley and see if she wants to walk around with me,” she answered, referring to the girl she had been assigned to room with on the trip.
“That’s cool,” he replied, turning back to the window so he didn’t have to look at her any longer.

The next day Wyatt didn’t see Alex at all. He had spent the day with a bunch of kids from the class then hung out that evening with Kyle and Chuck. They were decent guys, not necessarily the kind of guys Wyatt would spend time with, but they allowed him to hide from Alex and served as a good distraction. He was down in Chuck’s room until well after midnight before deciding to go to bed. He didn’t have any real plans the next day other than to wander around the city poking his head in any building that looked interesting but wanted to get started early so as to avoid Alex.
He was surprised the next morning when he got down to the breakfast room at seven o’clock only to find her sitting at a table with Dr. Swanson sipping on a cup of steaming hot tea. She was dressed as if she was ready to go for the day and had her pack sitting on the floor beside her. The plate of food in front of her was half eaten, indicating that she had been there for awhile. She noticed him as he walked in.
“Good morning Wyatt,” a smile spreading across her face. She appeared happy to have gotten the jump on him this morning.
“What are you doing up so early?” he replied absently, not sure what he was going to do now.
“Well, I missed you last night but figured you were going to get an early start, so I set a wake up call so I could meet you for breakfast. Looks like I could have slept a few more minutes.”
Professor Swanson was smiling, “Good morning Wyatt, would you like to join us?”
“Um, sure. Let me grab something to eat and some coffee,” he replied, moving towards the breakfast bar.
As he made his way through the line his mind raced, “What am I going to do now?”
He loaded a plate up with fresh fruit and grabbed a bowl of cold cereal. He figured he might as well take his time eating. Balancing his plate on top of a cup of coffee he made his way to the table.
Immediately Dr. Swanson put him on the spot, “So, what are you kids going to do today?”
Wyatt bought time by taking a big bite of cereal, mumbling as he covered his mouth and feigned politeness. He held up one finger as if to tell the professor to give him a second.
Alex answered before he could, “Well, I would like to go to a few different places. I was thinking the US Mint, the Pentagon or the Holocaust Museum.”
“The Holocaust Museum is definitely worth the trip. It is an amazing place, if not a bit depressing,” he answered. He turned his attention to Wyatt, who had finished chewing.
“Well, I was hoping to go to the Capital today,” he lied.
“Oh, I went there yesterday,” Alex answered, a bit of disappointment in her voice. “I guess it doesn’t matter though, I can go back again.”
Dr. Swanson looked from one student to the other, interested in how the exchange was going to play out.
It was evident to Wyatt that he wasn’t going to escape her today. It couldn’t hurt to hang out with her so he answered, “Oh, I didn’t know that. We don’t have to go to the Capital, not if you went there yesterday. Besides, I’ve been there before anyway. You can pick where we go Alex.”
Dr. Swanson let a smile play across his face. Wyatt wondered why he was so happy. It was evident that he was aware of the game being played and had been amused by the outcome.
Alex was happy too. She smiled wide, those perfect white teeth flashing. Even her eyes, which had been so morose, brightened.

The day was actually pretty good. Wyatt had nearly forgotten how much he enjoyed being around her and it felt good to have her to himself, the two of them walking, talking about whatever crossed their minds, and just goofing around together. When she reminded him about their dinner that evening he realized his folly. He had thought he had progressed far over the last couple of days; broke the connection between the two and started to move in the direction he knew they needed to go. Yet, like an alcoholic, he had drunk her in today, and he was back to where he had started, and now, the threat of dinner, that very evening was threatening to put him into a downward spiral that he couldn’t escape from. He had to figure out what to do.
They had done their research prior to coming to Washington and had found a quaint little restaurant in the Georgetown area that they both wanted to try. The past Friday, when they had played husband and wife at the grocery store they had a agreed in a moment of seriousness to dress up and go out like adults, to see what the real world offered. Wyatt had agreed at the time, so caught up in the moment, but now he realized what a mistake that had been.
Now, as he stood in front of the mirror in his room wearing a white, freshly pressed collared shirt and purple paisley tie, along with khaki pants he realized that if he had any hope of controlling the situation he was going to have to hurt Alex, and it was killing him. She was so important to him, but she couldn’t keep leading him down a path she was unwilling to walk. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe hurting her would be what it took to fix this.
Wyatt thought to himself, “Maybe she won’t be hurt at all. She did say she wasn’t interested. It’s just dinner anyway.”
Wyatt pulled off the tie, and began unbuttoning the shirt.

It was twelve-thirty by the time Wyatt made it back to the hotel. He had taken the last train back from downtown, where he had spent the last five hours wandering. He was surprised to see Dr. Swanson sitting in the lobby reading a thick, non-descript book. Seeing Wyatt wander in, he immediately set it down and waved him over.
“Good evening Wyatt,” he said cordially, if not a bit fatherly.
“Hi Dr. Swanson,” he replied, a bit leery.
“Wyatt, it isn’t my business to involve myself in my students’ personal lives, but I think it is important for me to tell you that Alexandra has been looking for you all night.”
“I figured she would be,” came the younger man’s only response.
“Wyatt, sit down, would you please,” the kindly man patted the cushion beside him.
Wyatt obliged him, turning to look at the old man.
“Wyatt, why are you treating Alexandra this way? She is a sweet girl and it is evident that she likes you. Is there something wrong with her that I have not noticed?”
Wyatt thought for a moment before answering. His voice was low and melancholy. His decision to ignore Alex tonight had not been an easy decision, and his heart could feel it.
“That’s the problem Dr. Swanson, there is nothing wrong with her. I care about her so much, but she has made it clear that she wasn’t interested in me,” Wyatt choked out the words.
“That’s nonsense, son, she is crazy about you, anyone can see that,” he snapped back, a smile on his face.
Wyatt didn’t want to argue, but felt the necessity, to defend his actions, “She told me she wasn’t interested in me but I let myself fall for her. Now I can’t stop thinking about her and I can’t go through that rejection.”
“Wyatt, I don’t know what she told you, or when she told you those things, but I do know that that young woman doesn’t deserve the treatment you’ve been displaying the last few days. You can’t hurt her to justify you yourself not getting hurt, because in the end, both people suffer. Have you ever thought of just telling her how you feel?”
Wyatt thought for a moment. Giving up his feelings never came easy because he knew it exposed himself in ways he wasn’t willing to do.
Dr. Swanson spoke again, “Well Wyatt, I would suggest trying something difference because whatever you’re trying now are destroying two kids I have watched for half a semester, and enjoyed seeing together, even if they weren’t ‘together’.”
“Go talk to her Wyatt,” he continued. “Go end this now. If that is truly what you want, don’t lead her around making her wonder. If it is a break from her that you need, then make it a clean break, so she can get on with it as well. Don’t keep lying to her. No one deserves that.”
Wyatt sat there, looking at nothing in particular, letting his actions over the last few days play over and over in his head. He knew Dr. Swanson was right; he had just refused to accept that this was how it would have to end.
“I suppose I’ll just have to talk to her in the morning,” Wyatt mumbled, rising from the seat.
“I wouldn’t wait that long, son. She’s been sitting on the steps downstairs for the past hour. I suppose she is still there.” The professor pointed to the door that led to the stairs. Wyatt nodded and headed that way.

The downstairs area was where the pool and exercise rooms were. The students had been disappointed to find the pool closed due to issues with a broken pump when they had reached the hotel. The lights had been dimmed and few people came down here, especially this time of night.
As Wyatt came down the stairs he heard the muffled sobs of a woman and his heart immediately jumped. He didn’t know if he could do this or not, but knew he had to try.
“Hi, Alex,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
Immediately she stopped crying, “What the hell do you want?” Her voice was full of venom.
“I came to apologize, to explain…,” he let his voice trail.
“There’s nothing to explain. I get it Wyatt. I just wish you weren’t such a coward.” As she said that, she turned and looked at him.
Wyatt could see a trail of mascara on her face where her tears had caused it to run. Her eyes were puffy, and he could tell she had been crying for awhile. She hadn’t changed out of the clothes she had wore to meet him for dinner and Wyatt was disgusted with himself. Her skirt was the same color as the tie he had been wearing earlier, and the like blouse and vest she wore were stunning. He had never seen her looking so elegant, and again his heart raced.
“I am a coward, I’m an idiot and I’ve not treated you the way you deserve,” he stuttered over his words, not really sure how to say them.
She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. At least she was willing to hear him out.
“Alex, I tried to be what you wanted me to be, to be your friend, but I can’t do it,” he started.
“Well that’s pretty evident by the way you’ve been acting,” she interrupted. “What happened? When we left, everything was going great.”
He could see the tears starting to form in her eyes again. He took a deep breath and began, “Alex, I felt things changing between us, as if you were getting more comfortable with me. I have to admit, I really enjoyed it. Friday night, when we were at the grocery store, I really felt something. Then, when you held my hand on the bus, when your hands were cold, I realized that things had went all wrong.”
She shook her head, confused, “Wyatt…”
“No, just let me finish,” he interrupted moving past and crouching in front of her. “Don’t hate me Alex, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t just be friends with you. I want something more, and if I can’t have it, then I can’t be around you anymore. It tears me up whenever I’m around you. I want to blurt out how I feel about you, but I know that you don’t feel the same abut me.”
He dropped his eyes, not wanting to look at her. He felt ashamed of himself, but at the same time relieved that he had finally received his release. He knew that it would be horrible without her, but it was for the best.
He sat that way for a minute, listening to her sob, tears of his own running down his face. He was surprised to feel her hand on his head, her fingers combing through his hair.
He looked up and was surprised to see a strained smile on her face. Her eyes were wet and glossy but oh so beautiful.
“Oh Wyatt,” she wailed, slipping her arm behind his head and pulling him towards her. He hugged him as she sobbed, her face buried in his neck.
He didn’t know what to think as she pulled away from him. She wiped her eyes with the tips of her fingers and wiped them on her dress. He didn’t stop looking in her eyes as she began to speak.
“Wyatt, I tried so hard not to like you, I really did. I knew that it would be too difficult with me graduating and you being just a freshman. I should have never stopped that night in the library, but I did. I shouldn’t have sat buy you in class, but I did. There was something about you that just made me want to be around you.”
She kept looking at him, finally composed, “Wyatt, I can’t help myself anymore. All I ever think about is you. When we were at the store Friday night I realized that I loved being with you, that I could walk around the grocery store with you forever. I didn’t want to feel that way either, but I do, and I can’t help it.”
Wyatt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Was this actually happening?” he thought to himself. “What should I say,” he thought to himself.
The truth is there was nothing to say. Here they were, walking the same road as one another and they had not even realized it until now. Without saying a word they leaned forward until their lips met.

April 1st – Dear Starlog:

I just left Alex at her room. It is about two thirty in the morning. We just spent the last two hours sitting in the stairwell talking. She means so much to me that I can’t even explain it. I’ve never felt like this before. I know I won’t be able to sleep, even though it’s late and I’m tired. I still feel bad about standing Alex up, but I guess it all worked out.
I wonder what life back at school is going to be like. I wonder what Dave is going to say. I wonder what I’m going to do when school is out for the year.

The Weekend Cometh (and more Wyatt)

2008-12-05T15:38:00.002-05:00

It has been a horribly long week. They sprung some nasty news on us at work and with my audit next week I'm under an incredible amount of stress. It seems that our company is in jeopardy of folding by the end of the month if something can't happen. On top of that they are planning on laying off 15% of the salaried workforce on a permanent basis starting a week from today. Hopefully I'm not one of the cuts. If I am I'm not sure what I'm going to do. The job prospects in Fort Wayne are severely limited.

This weekend we are taking Gracie to Libby Lou's for a makeover. Libby Lou's is the consummate little princess shop. You can overdose on pink just walking in the store. For like $30 you can take a girl in there, have her hair done up (including adding extensions if you so choose) makeup, nails and all that stuff. It's like a spa for 6-9 year olds. She's been dying to go and now they are going out of business so we decided to get her in. Everything is 30% off, so that is a good thing.

We need to do some Christmas shopping as well. Hopefully we can pin down a sitter for Saturday so we can get some stuff purchased. Time is running out.

Okay, back to Wyatt. I haven't done anything more with the editing but hope to read over some stuff this weekend. I would like to have the whole process completed by next week. Let's hope I can accomplish that. Over Christmas break I may think about starting a new book. This one will be written at my pace and heavy thought out. I really need to start brainstorming plots. If anyone has any suggestions, let me know. Anyway, here is the next section of Wyatt. Hope you like it.

CHAPTER 12: DECISION

The bus was packed and loaded at five o’clock in the morning on Sunday. Those who were making the trip waited until the last possible moment to show up and were all working against one another to shove their luggage into the storage area under the motor coach. The driver sat indifferently at the wheel, looking over an atlas as if this was the first time he had considered where they were heading.
Wyatt had been the first one to arrive and waited patiently outside the bus, looking for Alex. A few minutes later he caught sight of her dragging a pull along suitcase across the sidewalk. She had the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up but Wyatt could tell it was her from her walk. She didn’t look up as he ran out to meet her.
“Good morning!” she shouted as her approached her.
“Not particularly. There is nothing good about five o’clock unless it involves sleep,” she grumbled in reply.
He pulled the backpack off her shoulder and took the handle of her suitcase so he could drag it the last thirty yards to the bus.
“We’re in the second set of seats on the right hand side. You can have the window if you want it,” he offered.
“Make sure you bring my backpack,” she returned, seemingly indifferent to his choice of seats.
He went on to load her luggage while trudged up the steps, mumbling under her breath. When he was finished he climbed on the bus, only to find Alex already in her seat, her head resting against the window, her eyes closed.
Wyatt tucked her backpack in the overhead and sat down beside her, “Are you ready for this?”
“I’m not ready for anything but to go back to bed,” she mumbled.
“Well, we’ll be leaving any minute and they’ll turn the lights out. You should be able to get some rest,” he offered with little consolation.
Dr. Swanson was the last person to get on the bus. He took a few minutes to explain the itinerary for the trip out and take attendance. When everyone had been accounted for, he too settled into his seat and with a hiss of brakes being released, the bus lurched forward into the morning.
They cut through the city with practically no traffic on their way to the interstate. By the time they hit it Alex was complaining about how uncomfortable she was.
“I brought my pillow if you want to use it,” Wyatt offered, hoping to appease her.
“Yes,” was her only reply.
He stood up and retrieved it from the overhead compartment before sitting down and handing it to her. She took it silently. Wyatt showed her how to recline her seat and after three or four attempts to get comfortable failed she finally ended up placing the pillow on Wyatt’s shoulder and leaned against him.
Wyatt smiled as he closed his eyes, leaned his head on the pillow they now shared too, and went to sleep as well.

At about eight o’clock Wyatt woke up and found Alex still sleeping. The sky was pale and gray, covered with a low layer of clouds that clung like heavy curtains. He could see Alex clearly now. Her hands were pulled up inside her navy sweatshirt. She wore pink Hello Kitty flannel pajama bottoms and heavy wool socks. She had kicked off her shoes earlier to make herself more comfortable and they lay on the floor, kicked beneath the seat in front of them.
Her face was plain and void of the makeup she had worn two days earlier when they had went out to dinner. Wyatt realized what a rare opportunity this was; to see this woman, this close without her knowing. He cherished his chance to stare at her, to look at her feature singularly, taking in each part of her face. He looked at her long eyelashes and marveled at the symmetrical curve each one shared. He looked at her nose, slightly oversized but wonderful in its unique appearance. He stared at the fine white hairs, normally invisible that grew above her upper lip.
Wyatt was amazed at how beautiful she had become over the months that he had known her. He flaws had completely disappeared and he realized that while others would perhaps question his judgment, he felt he was looking upon the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
It was if she knew he was staring at her because she started coming awake. Wyatt sat back and took his eyes off her, disappointed that his moment to examine her was gone, but glad she was waking so he could talk with her.
She stretched her arms above her head, hampered by the top of the overhead, and yawned, “What time is it”
“Just a few minutes past eight,” he answered. “Did you sleep well?”
“It’s still too early,” she replied, “but yeah. Thanks for your pillow.”
“No problem. You didn’t drool on it did you?” he joked.
“You could only hope,” she replied, running her hands through and scratching her head as she pushed her hood back.
“You know where we’re at?” she asked him, looking at the miles of flat, non-descript landscape.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we are getting pretty close to Ohio. Should be leaving Indiana really soon.”
That chatted for a few minutes, Alex finally agreeing to share a package of chocolate Pop-Tarts after listening to Wyatt’s arguments proclaiming their merits. They laughed as they munched on their breakfast, Wyatt teasing Alex over her complete indifference to the trip (mostly based on the ungodly decision to leave at five AM) and her chiding him over his puppy dog like excitement about going “bye-bye”.
Wyatt’s promise to himself to be productive and get a bunch of reading done was lost for most of the trip. He found that he would rather watch the movie playing on the bus’ video monitors or sit and talk with Alex as the miles rolled past. It was one of those days where the trip was excessively long, but neither of them truly minded it. Maybe it was because they were excited about getting to Washington, maybe it was the company. Regardless, it was an enjoyable trip.
At about three o’clock Alex yawned, “Hey Wyatt, let me borrow your pillow again. I want to take a nap.”
He pulled his pillow from beside him and handed it to her, “Haven’t you slept enough today?”
“I can never get enough sleep,” she answered, fluffy the pillow and positioning it back on Wyatt’s shoulder as she had earlier.
“Well, I’m going to finish watching this movie and then I’ve got to get some reading done,” he reasserted, not completely convincing himself.
She mumbled something and snuggled her head into the pillow, her body shoulder to shoulder with his. With her eyes still closed she said, “My hands are cold.”
Rather than tucking them into her sweatshirt, which was typical, and without opening her eyes, she found Wyatt’s hand and wrapped hers around it. A smile crept across her face as she soaked up the warmth stored in his body.
Wyatt was a bit taken back by this action. He was awash with mixed feelings and he didn’t know what to think. Was Alex coming on to him? Was she just cold? He couldn’t tell, but her actions during this trip so far had been a bit more direct than she had ever displayed. He didn’t know what to think, but knew that he wasn’t going to complain.
Within minutes he could hear here breathing deep and knew that she was asleep. It amazed him how quickly she had managed to pass into the unconscious. He wished he was able to do that. Unfortunately as of late it was taking him a long time to get to sleep. The last two nights he had tossed and turned, trying to decide what he wanted to do.
There was one thing that Wyatt did not like, and that was indecision. He was much better off when he knew the answer to a question. Alex was one he just could not answer. Over the last few days this had been amplified by the time they had spent together. The trip to the grocery and the dinner at Louie’s on Friday night had felt so right, so comfortable, yet it didn’t feel like the other meals or time they had shared together. It was as if there had been progress, a movement towards a place more serious and committed. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining things or not and therein rested his confusion.
In the past Wyatt had used his mind to reason things through and here on a bus, in the middle of Pennsylvania he decided to do it again.
“Control,” he told himself, “that is what this comes down to. If I want things to work out then I need to take control. I can’t allow anyone to dictate what I do, how I feel, where I take my life.”
He turned his head and stole a peripheral glance at the woman who slept beside him. She was plain yet beautiful. He knew that she didn’t look at herself as a stunning, model like beauty. She wasn’t like that at all. She was an earthy type woman, plain yet comely.
“I can’t think of anything but you when you are near me. I can’t focus, I just have to listen, watch, concentrate on you,” he considered for a moment. “Maybe I need to quit you cold turkey. This certainly isn’t working for me. Besides, you’ll be graduating soon anyway. Maybe I should just let you go on your own way?”
He sat thinking for awhile, slowly becoming depressed at the thought of her disappearing from his life, “Look at me!” he screamed in him mind. “She is sitting right beside me and I’m allowing the thought of being without her to take me over.”
In that moment, he made up his mind. He needed to distance himself from her; otherwise he would be trapped, at the mercy of this woman. He couldn’t give her that control. As long as his emotions were running wild he was at her mercy. Inadvertently she had taken control of him and he had to make it stop. Besides, she wouldn’t want that anyway.
Strangely, he felt good about his decision. He wasn’t terribly happy, but there was a certain amount of contentedness that overcame him. Wyatt was convinced that he was made to be a loner, a nomad, a drifter. He appreciated his friendships, but he could also accept loneliness and conspired to create for himself a hermitage where he could escape the control of complexities of others. He would let Alex go, finish out school and live his life the way he wanted it, free of restraints and controls placed upon him by others.
He allowed his melancholy to overtake him. It was an awful feeling, but he wrapped himself in it. It was his life. He always knew it. Why he had allowed an individual to deny him his true calling he didn’t know. It had been a mistake and he would remedy it. Wyatt slept.

The rest of the bus trip was pretty uneventful. When Wyatt awoke he feigned disappointment in himself and forced himself to read his schoolwork. When Alex prodded him to talk with her he told her coldly, “I really need to get this stuff read. Could you just leave me alone for awhile? Thanks.”
They arrived at their hotel in DC at about six thirty. The plan for the night was to just hang out in the rooms and order pizzas. A hospitality room was set up and most of the class gathered there, drank so sodas and hung out. Wyatt skipped going down, instead, he sat in his room, reading, eating snacks from his bag and the machines at the end of the hall. He was supposed to have told Alex his room number after he had gotten it (she had gotten her first and went up to get settled in). He hadn’t. Instead he just stayed in the room, trying his best to concentrate on the words in front of him. His roommate, a junior named Kyle Toomer had told him that Alex was looking for Wyatt, but Kyle hadn’t said anything, not sure if Wyatt had wanted her knowing his room number.
“I don’t know, man,” Kyle had told him earlier when they were discussing Alex, “that girl is okay, but she’s a bit weird. I figured that if you wanted to tell her the room number you’d let her know yourself.”
“That’s cool,” Wyatt replied, wondering what was so weird about Alex. “I’ll call her later. You can tell her what number we’re in if you want. I’m just tired and want to get some sleep tonight, okay?”
“No problem dude. I’m going down to Chuck and Mike’s room. Mike brought a bottle of JD and invited me down to hit it with them. You get some sleep.” With that, he left, leaving Wyatt in the quiet of the hotel room.
Wyatt was still awake at ten thirty when the phone rang. He noticed on the display that it was ringing from Alex’s room and just ignored. She was persistent and let it ring at least ten times before finally hanging up. Each ring had temped Wyatt, but he had resisted, intent on not giving in to his decision.
He felt good about himself, having defended himself against her for a night. He knew he wouldn’t be able to completely ignore her, but he was going to minimize his contact with her whenever he possibly could. He turned out the lights and thought about how he would confront her when it inevitably happened tomorrow.
“Control,” he thought. “Just stay in control.”

Wyatt woke up at six the next morning and slipped out of bed and into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. He knew they started serving breakfast downstairs early and intended on getting down there before anyone else. Kyle was sleeping deeply and Wyatt didn’t figure he would be waking up soon. He took his time showering and getting dressed. He slipped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him and made his way down to breakfast.
Wyatt was surprised to see Professor Swanson sitting at one of the small round tables reading a copy of the Washington Post and sipping on a steaming cup of coffee.
“Morning, Dr. Swanson,” Wyatt greeted, as he made his way to the bar where a spread of cold foods was laid out.
“Oh, well good morning Wyatt,” the older man answered, “I’m surprised to see any of you students up this early.”
“Yeah, well I’m not big on sleeping. Besides, I got enough on the bus trip yesterday. I’m excited about getting started today,” he replied, loading up a plate with a bagel, cream cheese, and a couple of spoonfuls of fresh fruit.
Wyatt set hi food down on a nearby table and the professor ushered him over, “Come sit with me. I’d rather have someone to talk to than read all this garbage the papers report.”
Wyatt smiled, picked up his plate and made his way over. He had always liked Dr. Swanson but other than class, never really spoke with him.
“So Wyatt, what are your plans for the day?” the scholarly old man asked over his glasses.
Dr. Swanson had been very lax on his itinerary for the time they were actually in Washington. He was insistent on them each making a trip to various points of interest but was not restricting them to a particular schedule. They had been given a “walking test” to take, insuring they had visited the prominent areas of concern to the class, but beyond that they were free to explore on their own.
“Well,” Wyatt began, “I want to visit Arlington today. I heard the weather was supposed to be good and figured that would be a good start. My grandfather was killed in World War II and I want to visit his grave.”
“Arlington is a pretty big place. I doubt if you’ll be able to find his marker without help,” the professor replied.
Wyatt knew he was being challenged, “I’ve been here before. My folks brought me here a few years back. I think I should be able to remember where he was buried. I figure it is the least I could do, you know, visit my grandfather.”
Swanson nodded his head, “That’s very noble of you. Then what?”
“I don’t know, I figured I walk over to the monuments, check out Lincoln and the Wall,” Wyatt replied, referring to the Lincoln Memorial and the nearby Vietnam Wall.
“Lot of walking,” the older man replied. “You going with anyone? Maybe your friend Alexandra?”
“Yeah, it’s a lot of walking, but I’m used to it. I loved walking the Freedom Trail in Boston and it is pretty long,” he replied, ignoring the questions.
Dr. Swanson seemed to get the hint, “Well, if you want company I’d be happy to come along. I may need to stop and rest a bit, but I’m still in pretty good shape. I like to attach myself to different groups each day, so I appreciate you letting me tag along with you.”
Wyatt smiled at the professor, “That’d be cool. When did you want to get going?”
“Well, let me get another cup of coffee. You can finish up your breakfast. I seriously doubt anyone else will be up before eight so we might as well get going early,” he answered.
This relieved Wyatt, he had hoped to get up and out before anyone else. This was working out pretty well. Besides, this would give him an excuse for when he finally ran into Alex.

March 30th – Dear Starlog

I had a pretty good day with Professor Swanson. I knew he knew a lot about history, being a PhD and all, but I was completely unaware of how much trivial information he knew. He told me all about the monuments including how they were built and stories about them as they were being built. We walked all around Arlington and he was able to tell me something about some people buried there that I would have never even given a second glance had had he not pointed out their stones. We were able to find my grandfather’s stone and I think that impressed him.
He asked me about Alex and I told him we were just friends. I don’t think he was completely convinced, but what else could I tell him? We are just friends. Sure, I think there could be more, but I know she doesn’t want it. It kinda made me mad. Matter of fact, I kinda resent the way she has played me. I guess being with someone like Dr. Swanson allowed me to be honest with myself. He’s an impartial figure and while I wasn’t willing to share everything, it was nice to be able to talk to someone without worrying about what I said. He’s a good guy.
Alex found me when we got back. She didn’t seem mad, just a bit disappointed. I told her I was sorry for not getting a hold of her last night. I told her I had a monster headache and crashed early. I also explained to her that I met Dr. Swanson in the breakfast room this morning and learned that he was going to be walking around Washington by himself and felt bad. I figured that after the long trip that she would be sleeping and guessed that it wouldn’t be a big deal if I hung out with him.
I still don’t think she was too happy with me, but frankly, she’s going to have to accept it. I’m not here to entertain her. I’m not her puppy that she can play with when she wants to. I’m in control of myself now and you know, I had a good time today. I really liked just walking around with Dr. Swanson. I did tell her that I promised that we could hang out tomorrow.
I don’t know what she did today, but she survived. It was hard looking at her because I know she was disappointed but you know what? Quitting anything is hard. Smoking, drinking, gambling. Each of them has their own challenge and I’ve got to face up to this one. I know I’ll get through it. I managed today and it turned out. I don’t really care for the lying though.

Wyatt Klinker Section 10

2008-12-04T19:55:00.002-05:00

Okay, just a quick note, I have training to do in 5 minutes so I can't take long.

I'm currently in the editing process and have made it through chapter three. I've been swamped at work getting ready for an audit and have been working through lunch, so my time is limited. Anyway, when I get done I believe my book will be available on Amazon for purchase. I think that would be cool.

Anyway, here's the next section...

CHAPTER 11: ROGERS’

Per the arrangements they had made earlier that morning during history class, Wyatt met Alex at her dorm room at six o’clock. He had actually been fifteen minutes early but rather than go up, he sat in the lobby passing time watching people walk by on the front walk. He did not want to come across as too anxious.
When it finally time finally came he took the stairs up to her floor. Her room was at the end of the hall on the right hand side. For a Friday it was extremely quiet and Wyatt felt uncomfortable walking, his feet making the only sound.
As he neared her door he heard the muffled sound of music coming from behind the door. He listened a moment before knocking, ascertaining that she was playing some kind of upbeat dance music. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard her yell “come in”. He pushed the door open to find her standing at a mirror, combing out her hair with a large brush.
“Hey there,” she said without turning.
“Hey there,” he mimicked. “So this is your room?”
Wyatt looked around. There were a set of bunk beds against the far wall, one with a very plain blue comforter, the other, a white one with bright stars of green and yellow. The closets were to his left and the door on one was open. Wyatt immediately realized that this one belonged to Alex as he recognized a few of the outfits hanging therein. He also noticed a dirty clothes basket on floor with a few items of clothing in it. He was embarrassed to see a lacey pink bra lying on top. He immediately averted his eyes.
Two desks in the room were the complete opposite of the other. One, on the right, was immaculate. Texts sat upright between two bookends. A blotter covers the top service and a laptop (which Wyatt immediately identified as Alex’s sat open. A psychedelic screen saver with multiple colored lines danced across the desktop. Cords ran from the back of the computer to twin speakers from which the music he had heard from the hall blared.
The other desk was a disaster. Books and papers were piled in multiple stacks, some reaching a foot high. There was no discernible order to the mass and Wyatt wondered if the desk was simply a catchall. It was apparent that the piece of furniture had no actual value as a study locale.
“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” she asked him, catching him looking at the desk. I should probably clean it up sometime because if I don’t it will never get cleaned. Wyatt let it go. He wasn’t planning on passing judgment on her roommate based on her desk.
Alex walked over to the closet and grabbed her coat. Wyatt was sure to keep his eyes focused on another part of the room and adverted from her undergarments that screamed at him from the clothes basket. He caught her closing the door out of the corner of his eye and turned to focus on her.
She was wearing a pale yellow turtleneck sweater that hugged her body accentuating her thin, yet curvy torso. Her jeans were artificially faded and had small tears in various places. Her belt was a wide black thing with a buckle shaped like a sun. Tall black boots with clunky heels rounded out her outfit. Her hair was pulled back and tied in a bundle with a yellow ribbon that stood out against her red hair. While Wyatt didn’t mind her hair this way, he loved it when she wore it down. She was wearing full makeup, Wyatt noticed and for some reason this surprised him. In fact, he felt a bit uncomfortable as he hadn’t even changed before venturing over to her place this evening.
“You ready to go,” she asked, flipping her laptop down and silencing the music.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he said, not taking his eyes off of her as she slipped on her coat.
“What are you staring at,” she asked him, catching him looking at her.
“Oh, nothing, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think we were dressing up for this,” he admitted.
“This isn’t dressing up. You’ve never seen me dressed up,” she stated nonchalantly.
“It’s just that I’ve never seen you wearing makeup. Besides that, you usually wear hooded sweatshirts.” He stated as they left, Alex pulling the door shut behind her.
“Well, maybe if you would ask me to go out with you more often I would wear different clothes and put makeup on. This IS the first time you’ve asked me off campus after all,” she accused him jokingly.
He thought about it. This was the first time he had ever ventured off campus with her. Typically they would meet at one of the dining halls on campus. Other times they would meet at the student union to just hang out. He felt ashamed of himself for not thinking about it before. Now that they were leaving campus however, he felt good about it.
“So, where do you want to eat,” she asked, changing the subject.
“Have you ever tried Louie’s?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t, is it any good?” she replied.
“No, it’s horrible,” he said sarcastically. “You don’t think I would take you anywhere good seeing as this is the first time we’ve ventured off campus together.”
“I suppose I deserved that,” she laughed.
“Louie’s is the best pizza place I’ve ever eaten at,” he explained to her. “You haven’t eaten pizza until you’ve tried Louie’s.”
“But you just had pizza on Wednesday,” she answered, a bit of concern in her voice. “I don’t want you to go some place you don’t want to go.”
“Oh, I’ve only eaten at Louie’s once,” he responded, “and that pizza I had the other night can’t hold a candle to his.”
“Okay, if you’re good with it. I’m looking forward to this. You lead the way.”
The sun was going down by the time they got off the “L” at their stop and a chill had set in. Wyatt tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Alex pulled gloves out and put them on before looping her arm through Wyatt’s elbow. This took him by surprise but he didn’t show any to her. He smiled as they walked the blocks to the restaurant.
There were people waiting to get in, but Wyatt and Alex were able to get seated at a small table after only a short wait. The aroma in the air was the same as the last time he had been here and Wyatt breathed it in deep. His mouth watered at the thought of the pizza they were about to order.
“So how’d you learn about this place,” Alex asked after ordering drinks from the waitress.
“Oh, my cousin Lindsey brought me here,” he replied.
“Oh, your aunt and uncle have a daughter? You’ve never mentioned her before.
Wyatt immediately became uncomfortable, “Yeah, they have a daughter. She’s younger than me. We don’t speak much. She’s busy with her friends and all that.”
“Oh,” was her only reply, willing to let his explanation stand.
“You know, the last time I was here was the day I found out about my parents,” he stated matter of factly.
“Awwww, doesn’t it bother you being back here,” she replied, a deep compassion in her voice.
“Not really,” he stated absently, thinking back to that day. “I’m kind of numb to their deaths now. It is worse when I’m at home, rather at my aunt and uncle’s house. While I’m at school I feel alive and free. There it’s like I’m a caged animal. I’m not looking forward to the end of the year at all.”
“Maybe you should try hanging out with your cousin,” she offered.
Wyatt immediately started shaking his head, “There’s no way I’m doing that. She’s one of the big reasons I don’t want to be there.”
“Why, what did she do,” Alex prodded.
Wyatt wasn’t sure he wanted to go down this avenue with her, but he trusted Alex like no one he had ever known. He wanted to share all his secrets with her. He wanted to tell her how little he felt for his parents after their deaths, how his morning hadn’t been for them, but for him, for the battles he knew he would have to face. Most of all he wanted to tell her how he felt about her.
Shoulder hunched and leaning forward he explained about how Lindsey had come on to him, how she had come into his room one night and how he had forced her to leave. He told her about Greg and how he had caught them in the act and how he thought she had done it just to make him jealous.
Alex listened intently as he unraveled his story. She didn’t allow any disgust to show and only listened. When he was done, she didn’t say anything. She lowered her head and looked into her lap.
Wyatt watched her for a moment before speaking, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re probably disgusted with me. I shouldn’t have told you.”
When she looked up her face was damp from a trail of tears that had run down her face. She stared at Wyatt, a deep look of compassion in her eyes, “I never knew how horrible it was there Wyatt. I never knew how much of a change your life has seen over the last year. I’m sorry that something like that had to happen to you.” Her features changed as she found herself asking, “Why did you tell me this?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess that I figured you’d understand; that you would not hold it against me. Besides that, I trust you. I feel like I could tell you anything.”
Wyatt noticed that she flushed red with these comments, embarrassed that he would be so candid with her.
“I don’t hold it against you Wyatt. I never will, not as long as we’re friends,” she replied, wiping the tears away with the corner of her napkin.
Wyatt was at a complete loss for words, he wanted to plead with her, to make her understand how they were supposed to be together. Looking at her, eyes red from wiping away the tears Wyatt knew that he couldn’t jeopardize what they did share by putting undo pressure on her. While it felt like knives in his heart, he knew he could only afford to have her as she was, to do otherwise would be unfair to her. She had voiced her opinion on the matter and he could not push it, regardless of what he had just told her; about how he felt.
As if on cue, there meal arrived, diverting the conversation. Their meal was enjoyable, if not a bit subdued. Both minds were filled with thoughts and they were both content to just eat and make small talk as opposed to carrying on deeper conversations.
Like Wyatt his first time at Louie’s, Alex was impressed as well.
“You know, you’ve been hiding this place from me for months now. I should really be offended,” she teased.
“Well,” he returned, “I’ve actually lied to you. I’ve been coming here every week for the past three months. I’ve not told you because I actually don’t really think you deserve it. You know, I don’t really like you much.”
She giggled, “Well, I’m not terribly fond of you either, but hey, I’m easy. I’ll do just about anything for pizza.”
“I’ve heard that about you,” he responded, garnering a kick from her under the table.
They finished their meal laughing and joking with one another, content to just be out, away from campus. It had been a long semester and they were both looking forward to getting away, to escaping from the city and seeing Washington.
After paying the tab they left and headed for the train. There were no real grocery stores in the center of downtown and they were both content to take a leisurely train ride north to one of the suburban areas to do some shopping. They chatted casually on the train with one another, talking about what they both wanted to see on their trip.
Neither was enthused about the fourteen hour bus ride but figured that they would make the best of it.
“You are planning on sitting by me on the trip aren’t you?” she asked as the train clattered northward.
“Well, I was, unless you would rather have someone else,” he responded, surprised she would ask.
“Okay, good. I was worried you would abandon me and one of the freshmen would want to sit by me,” she said absently.
“No, I wouldn’t let happen to you,” he smiled. “I probably won’t be much fun though. For some reason quite a few of my professors figured that Spring Break was a good time to assign homework. I’ve got a ton of reading to do.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I’ve got reading to do too. I promise I’ll leave you alone.”
They reached their stop and together got up and exited the train. It was a warm night for this time of year and they were both comfortable walking to the grocery. They continued to chat as they walked, enjoying each other’s company.
Alex guided them along the streets until they reached a small grocery store sandwiched between a law office and a furniture store. It didn’t really look like a grocery store on the outside, but the sign protested the fact: Rogers’ Market.
“Don’t you think we should find a Kroger’s or something?” Wyatt asked, giving the store a second glance.
“No way, I love this place. The owner is German and has my favorite cookies. They are expensive, but I have been craving them. They’ll be perfect to take on the trip,” she defended.
“They’ll have more than just cookies and sauerkraut won’t they? Sauerkraut probably wouldn’t be the best thing to take on the bus,” he teased.
She laughed, “They have regular American food too. I just want some of those cookies. Now come on dummy.”
The store was bigger than Wyatt had realized, stretching quite a ways back. It was an older building, but well kept. The shelves were packed full of product and very well organized.
Alex grabbed a shopping cart and turned to her left, making her way to the produce area. “This way, sweetheart,” she guided him.
“Yes dear,” he replied, playing along.
The produce area was small, but the fruits and vegetables were all very fresh looking considering the time of the year. Alex debated a bit as to whether to buy carrots and celery but decided that with no refrigeration that apples and oranges would be her best choice.
“Do you think the kids would like some bananas for their lunches,” Alex continued the charade.
Wyatt didn’t skip a beat, “Well, Juliet likes them but Petey doesn’t.”
“Well, let’s not then. We’ve got apples and oranges, they should be fine with that.”
As they marched through the store they filled their cart with various items. Alex tended to grab the more practical stuff like crackers and travels packs of tissue while Wyatt seemed to focus on junk food. All along they played at being husband and wife, laughing when one of the other said something overly absurd.
Tucked back in the corner was a section completely devoted to German food. Alex immediately found the cookies she was looking for. She excitedly showed them to Wyatt. They were called Biffar Dark Chocolate Ginger Sticks. She grabbed three packages and put them in the cart, insisting that she was stocking up.
Wyatt teased her, “You’re probably going to have one of those packages gone before we even hit the train. Are you going to even have any left for the trip tomorrow?”
“Hey, you back off mister. I’m not the one who grabbed two cartons of chocolate Pop-tarts. We’re only going to be on the bus for two mornings, what do you need all those Pop-tarts for?” she smiled, happy with her response.
“I guess you got me there,” was all Wyatt could say.
They finished walking through the store, taking turns pushing the cart, chatting up various products and grabbing stuff from the shelf when temptation called.
They reached the front of the store and checked out, pooling their money to cover the bill. Each grabbed a plastic grocery bag and made their way to the door. When they got there, they noticed that what had originally been a nice warn night had turned a bit chilly, and a steady rain had begun falling. Momentarily a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.
“What do you want to do Wyatt?” she asked, worried by the weather.
“Well, I don’t necessarily want to walk in the rain, but we really don’t have much of a choice,” he replied.
“You want me to call a taxi?”
“No way. That would be super expensive from way up here” he thought for a moment. “Why don’t we sit on that bench over there and wait and see if it lets up.”
See looked to where he pointed and saw a singular green bench, sitting under and awning for a jewelry store, it remained dry as the rain fell around it.
The two ran through the rain and reached the bench. They laughed as they reached the protection of the awning and flopped down beside one another, their respective bags on each side of them.
“How long do you think it will last,” she asked, referring to the storm.
“I doubt very long. I didn’t even know there had been a chance for storms tonight. It’s probably just scattered showers. It’ll lighten up soon and we can head back to the train.”
They sat quietly, watching the storm. The rain pounded down, puddling in the streets. Occasionally a lightning flash would cross the sky, followed shortly thereafter by the crack of thunder. Each time Alex would flinch.
“You okay,” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, I’m just not a real big fan of storms,” she answered, sliding a bit closer to him.
“You know, when I was little I was deathly afraid of storms. I used to scream whenever there was lightning and thunder. Then my mom told me that storms were God’s way of letting people know that he was still there. She used to tell me that weather in general was something we were powerless against. She said that God is the only one that can create storms and that we shouldn’t be afraid of them, we should marvel at them because it showed the glory and strength of God, and that he existed. I guess after that storms never really bothered me.”
They sat quietly for a moment before she spoke, “Thank you Wyatt. I never really thought about it that way. I like that. Your mom was a smart woman.”
Wyatt didn’t reply, instead he just sat watching the rain come down, enjoying being with Alex.

March 27th – Dear Starlog

I guess I should really put March 28th as the date, considering its 1:30am. I just got back from taking Alex back to her room after our little shopping trip. I guess I was wrong about rain tonight. It hasn’t let up yet and both of us are soaked, me a bit ore than her I guess because I had to walk all the way back here. It was worth it though.
Alex is an incredible person to be around. I love spending time with her and I really think she likes spending time with me. I can’t wait for this trip to DC.
We ended up sitting on a bench for about an hour watching the storm before we made a run for the train. It was pretty bad. We had to sit there soaking wet with a long ride back. It was miserable. I felt bad. I tried to apologize but Alex said everything was cool.
The school is pretty dead tonight. Most people left right after classes got out. Dave left yesterday. He skips classes all the time. I guess it doesn’t matter that much because he pulls down some pretty decent grades.
Tonight was a good night. Sure, we got soaked but I really enjoyed just being with her. I know I can’t have any more than what I got tonight, but that’s okay. Playing stupid little games with her, sitting on a bench watching the storm, sharing dinner; I’ll take that any day.
Well, I’m tired. Maybe I’ll write more when I get back.

Wyatt Klinker Section 9

2008-12-01T14:49:00.003-05:00

Okay, this is a whole lot easier. All I really have to do is post the next chapter of my book. That makes it real easy. It is a whole lot easier than going home, sitting at the computer ans typing for two hours while trying to keep the kids in line and keep Angie from going crazy (due to said children). I also have a bit of an empty feeling. I'm going to miss writing my story. It almost feels like a child that has finally moved out of your house. Sure, it's nice they are gone, but you do wish them.

Over the next week or so I plan on reading over my book and editing sections of it. I doubt I will do any rewrites. While the story isn't my favorite, it is complete, and that makes me happy.

I've already began formulating ideas for a new book, this time one that doesn't live under the constraints of time and word counts. I want to try to improve my writing and hope that somewhere in my head there is a story worthy of being printed and bound. I think I can do it, and I'm buoyed by the fact that my next novel will not be my first. That really feels good to type that. If anyone who reads this likes to write, I encourage them to try Nanowrimo next year. It is tough, but an incredible rush when you finally finish.

Okay, I've got a lot of work to do here today, so I'm not going to drag this out. Here is the next chapter of my book. Hope you continue to enjoy it.

CHAPTER 10: PICTURES

At the beginning of the term Dr. Swanson had told all the students that once again the school was sponsoring a trip to Washington D.C. for the HIS322 and his other class, HIS403 Presidential History. Wyatt had planned on going all along and was excited to know that the trip was a mere week away.
While Wyatt had been to Washington before, he was actually looking forward to the spring break excursion for more than one reason. First, going on the week long trip meant he didn’t have to go back home and confront his aunt, uncle and cousin again. Secondly, he would be given the chance to go back to the east coast, a place he missed dearly.
After their talk a month previous things had really cooled between him and Alex. He still talked to her in class but only met her for lunch once of twice a week as opposed to sharing a meal with her almost every day. He had been bothered by the fact that she didn’t press to share more time with him, but then he realized that she didn’t share the same feelings he had. She had also cooled on what she said around him. They had stopped talking about personal stuff and settled on discussing the mundane.
Wyatt was happy however to find out that she had planned on going to Washington as well. He was actually overly excited and had to force himself to relax and convince himself that just because she was going to DC didn’t mean things were any different. In fact, he actually became melancholy think about it.
Of course she was attuned to his feelings, or so it seemed, and immediately realized something was wrong. After class she grabbed him as they were leaving and asked him if everything was okay.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he lied.
“No it’s not,” she pressed. “I know you well enough to know when you’re bummed out.”
Wyatt had to think fast, “Well, Wednesday is my birthday and I miss my parents. It’s my first one without them.”
Wednesday was in fact Wyatt’s birthday, but in truth he really didn’t care one way or another. After age twelve his parents didn’t do much with birthdays so they didn’t really mean much.
Alex’s faced turned to a frown. She wrapped her arms around him, instantly flooding Wyatt with emotion. He loved having her arms wrapped around him and didn’t want her to let go.
“I’m so sorry Wyatt,” she comforted him. “Is there anything I can do?”
Wyatt didn’t allow himself to fantasize and instead just answered plainly, “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll get through it.”
“Do you want to meet me for dinner?” she offered.
“No, Dave and I are already planning on ordering pizza and hanging out with some guys on the hall,” he lied.
“Okay then,” she replied matter of factly. You let me know if there is anything you need. “Oh, and if I don’t tell you on Wednesday, happy birthday.”
With that Alex turned and walked away, leaving Wyatt to just stand outside in the cold, utterly frustrated with how his emotions were pulling him apart.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her how you feel,” Dave counseled Wyatt as they both sat in their room munching on pizza and watching the basketball game on television.
“Geez Dave, you sound like a woman,” Wyatt chided, throwing a pizza crust at his roommate.
The two of them had become good friends and Wyatt didn’t have a problem opening up to him. He had shared his feelings about Alex as well as all the mess at home, including the progression of the Lindsey issue. Dave, when he took the time to shut up was an amazingly good listener. He didn’t offer advice unless first asked and he admitted when he had no idea what to do. Alex had become a constant point of discussion between the two.
Dave picked up the thrown crust and immediately took a bite out of it, offering a Cheshire-like smile.
“You are one sick SOB Dave,” Wyatt signed, shaking his head.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the other man replied, shoving the rest of the crust in his mouth.
Wyatt propped his feet up on a milk crate and took another piece of pizza from the box. Just then someone knocked on the door.
“What do you want!?!” Dave yelled; his traditional greeting to the few visitors the two had.
“Do you have to do that,” Wyatt laughed, getting up and going to the door.
He was surprised when he opened it and found Alex standing there, her left hand hidden inside her long winter coat.
“Oh, hi,” Wyatt stuttered, surprised by her appearance at his door. She had never been to his room and he never really expected her to see it. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I felt bad for you because of your first birthday and all,” she looked down, not really knowing how to address the issue. “Well I felt bad considering your parents not being here to celebrate and all so I bought you a present.”
“Is that the stripper I hired for your birthday, Wy?” Dave shouted from behind him.
Alex laughed, “That must be Dave.”
Wyatt opened the door and stepped aside so she to come in, “Alex, this is my roommate Dave, Dave, this is Alex.”
“Nope, that’s not the stripper, but she’ll do,” Dave said, pulling himself up out of his chair.
Wyatt shot Dave a look that told him that he was crossing the line.
“I’m sorry. Hello Alex, it’s nice to meet you.”
Wyatt allowed himself to relax, “It’s good to see you, I really didn’t expect you to come over.”
“Well, I didn’t either, but I really felt bad for you so I brought you a present,” she pulled her hand out of her coat and revealed a tall bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. “I thought first I would contribute to the delinquency of a minor.
She pulled the paper bag off the bottle to reveal a bottle of champagne, “Do you have glasses?”
Wyatt retrieved a stack of Styrofoam coffee cups from the top of Dave’s refrigerator, “This is all we got, I hope they will do.”
“I really like this girl Wyatt. You should have invited her over earlier,” Dave contributed as he once again settled into his chair.
Wyatt flopped down on the floor, allowing Alex to have the seat he had vacated when she arrived. He watched her as her boney fingers pulled the foil off of the cork. They were long and delicate, the nails painted a subtle pink color. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by her movements.
Once she got the foil off she handed the bottle to Wyatt, “You have the honors of popping the cork, Birthday Boy.”
The bottle was one of those less expensive champagnes and had a plastic stopper which took a little wiggling to remove, but didn’t require a bottle opener. Wyatt struggle momentarily before he felt the cork give way. He held on to the cap as he heard the tell-tale pop as it was removed wholly from its nesting place in the bottle.
“Sorry it’s not chilled. I picked it up on my way over,” she admitted as she pulled three cups from the stack, setting them out on the same milk crate Wyatt had used as a foot stool earlier.
He poured each glass, bringing them as close to the top as he could without allowing a prolific amount of foam to spill over. Each took a cup but before they could drink, Dave offered up a toast.
“To the best person who has ever kicked my ass. Oh, and to a pretty decent roomie too,” he said as he lifted his glass.
The other two touched their cups to his and drank deeply, enjoying the bubbly sensation of the champagne. It was the first Wyatt had ever had and he was immediately smitten with its sweet taste and soda-pop fizz.
“Oh, my turn,” Alex blurted after topping off everyone’s glass from the bottle.
She thought for a moment before raising her glass and speaking, “I propose a toast to overdue library books, cold November evenings, and freshmen with the guts to hit on upperclassmen.”
Again they repeated the glass tipping ritual, Wyatt giving a smile to Alex and she returned the same.
“Really Wyatt, I’m glad I met you. You are a good friend and I’m going to miss you after I graduate. Oh, that reminds me, I got you a present.”
Dave raised his eyebrows at mention of a gift and Wyatt shot him a look that said, “Don’t you dare say whatever is running through that perverted head of yours.”
Alex didn’t notice the exchange as she began looking through her handbag. She found what she was looking for and pulled out a small package. It was wrapped in rich blue paper with a fluorescent pink ribbon. She handed to Wyatt and explained, “It’s not much but I wanted to get you something.”
Wyatt wasn’t accustomed to receiving gifts and took it, staring at the ribbon and the paper. He was stalled, wondering what it was.
“Well open it dummy,” she told him, leaning forward to watch him.
Wyatt took his time, first removing the ribbon without damaging it. Find the tape that held the paper to itself, he pulled it apart and extracted the gift.
“What is it,” he asked, not sure what the small electronic device was that he now held in his hand.
“Push the button on the side,” she instructed him.
He did as he was told, and a picture of Alex sitting at her desk in her down room appeared on the screen. After about five seconds the image changed to another shot of her, this time posing for the camera, her smile shining.
Wyatt spent a few minute looking as the image continued to change.
“It’s a digital picture frame that you can carry in your pocket,” she explained. “I saw it at the drug store and thought it was pretty cool. I didn’t know if you’d like it or not. You don’t have to keep those pictures of me on there; I just thought it would be better to give it to you with something on it.”
“No,” Wyatt interrupted, “I really like it. And I like the pictures too. Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to. You’re a good friend and I like spending time with you,” she said, her voice serious.
Wyatt didn’t know how to reply. This was an odd position he was in. Luckily, Dave broke the tension when he suddenly blurted out, “Oh shit, I forgot my report for my finance class tomorrow. I’ve got to get over to the computer lab before it closes so I can run it off.”
He grabbed his coat, slipped on a pair of sneakers without bothering to unlace them and made his way to the door. “It was nice meeting you Alex, thanks for the champagne.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. Sorry for interrupting you and Wyatt’s little party.”
He waved her off as he went out the door, “Not a problem”. He then left, closing the door behind him, leaving Alex and Wyatt alone.
Even though the television was still on, there was a dead stillness to the air in the room. It was a tension built on indecision. This was an opportunity for Wyatt to stress his feelings about Alex, but fear was also prevalent. He didn’t want to scare her off. He decided to play it safe.
“Thanks again for the gift, it means a lot. I certainly wasn’t expecting it,” he stated plainly enough, looking again as the scrolling pictures.
“Wyatt, I meant what I said. You are a real good friend and I do like spending time with you,” she said as she got out of the chair and sat down on the floor beside him. She took his hand. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I like being your friend and I don’t want to ruin it by letting it become something more serious. I hope you understand because your friendship is super important to me.”
Wyatt was screaming inside, “Why don’t you feel the same way about me that I feel about you! I don’t care! Why can’t we have something more!?!”
Instead, he just said meekly, “It’s ok Alex. I understand. I don’t want anything more than our friendship either. It is important to me too that we stay friends.”
She didn’t seem to notice his deceit, “I’m glad Wyatt. You are such a sweet guy.” She then leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. For an instance before her lips touched his cheek he could feel her warm breath on his face and became awash with a sense of euphoria. For a moment he allowed his eyes to close and soaked up her energy. As the kiss ended, he felt a deep depression overcome him. As she pulled away he forced a smile.
“Well, I’ve got to get back to my dorm. I’ve got a bunch of reading to do,” she said as they both stood up. “I’m glad I got to share a bit of your birthday with you.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you stopped by. Thanks for the champagne and the gift,” he replied uncomfortably, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Oh, you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind the walk,” she replied, pulling her coat back on.
“You sure?” he asked, “Let me at least walk you down to the door.”
She nodded and the two made their way down the hallway to the bank of elevators.
“I’m looking forwards to our trip to DC next week,” she stated, a bit of excitement in her voice.
“Yeah, I am too. I still need to go out and pick of stuff for the trip. I’ll probably do that Friday night,” he revealed.
“Oh! I’ve got to do that too. You mind if I go with you?”
Considering the feelings racing through his mind, he would have rather said “yes, he did mind” but he couldn’t force himself to deny her, nor deny an opportunity to be around her.
“Sure, you can come, maybe we could grab something to eat while we’re out.”
“That sounds like fun. What time, six?” she asked.
“Yeah, that sounds okay with me. We can talk about it more in class on Friday.” He answered as they reached the front door.
She turned to face him, “that will work. Happy birthday Wyatt. I’m glad you didn’t have to spend it alone this year.”
As she spoke he looked into her eyes and saw a flicker of something there. It was as if she was holding back, not revealing everything to him. He refused to believe it and shook the feeling off.
“Thanks Alex, I enjoyed spending time with you. This was a good birthday,” he replied.
She wrapped her arms around him and stood there hugging him, rocking her body back and forth slightly. He wanted to say something but didn’t.
When they finally separated she looked at him again and that same look was there. He wanted to take her face in his hands and kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead he just smiled and said, “Be careful walking home. I’ll see you later.”
“Yup. Have a nice night,” was her only reply as she turned and left. She looked back once to see if he was still standing there, watching her, but he was gone.

March 25th -Dear Starlog

Alex just left and I can’t help but feel that she wanted me to kiss her when I walked her out. This is so confusing. I know we would be perfect together, so I don’t know why she won’t just let go. I know she’s graduating, but Rockford isn’t all that far. I think we could make it work. Besides, she could easily find a job here in the city. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just desperate.
Well, I’ve got to take what I can get. Right now it just means being friends and being happy with that.
What the hell am I saying? She has been clear that she doesn’t want anything more than a friendship. I’m acting like a stupid little freshman. I have two more months of class then the summer will be here. I should make the best of what time I have left here because going back to live with my aunt and uncle is going to be completely depressing. I think I’ll just find a job to keep me occupied all summer. That way I don’t have to be around much.
I am looking forward to going to Washington on Sunday. It has been at least eight years since mom and dad took me there on our summer vacation. It was fairly interesting then, but of course that was before I really had an interest in history. There are a few places I would love to go, namely the National Archives and the Smithsonian. The monuments are cool, but once you’ve seen them once they aren’t that big a deal. Of course, if Alex wants to go see them I’ll take her, but it doesn’t much matter to me.
I suppose I should get some sleep. I’ve got to get up early tomorrow to get some stuff at the library. I don’t know why I’m even going to try though. I know that, like most nights, I’ll lay awake thinking about her. I always do.

I am a Novelist!

2008-11-29T21:58:00.003-05:00

At 9:57pm on Saturday, November 2008 I was officially recognized as a novelist. After twenty nine days of writing I finally completed my 50,000 words necessary to win Nanowrimo.

I can't really describe the feeling of accomplishment I am experiencing. I loved writing this book and it feels so good to know that I accomplished something I've always wanted to do. I'm not going to spend a whole lot of time gloating about this, but I will tell you that I couldn't have been happier with the way my book turned out. Granted there is a lot of editing that needs to be done, but I'm up for it. The end of the book, which I was most worried about actually turned out way better than a I thought. I will be posting subsequent chapters as I go along so you will see. Right now I'm just happy I was able to accomplish my goal of writing a novel.

Writer meets Wall (Wyatt Klinker Part 8)

2008-11-26T15:43:00.002-05:00

Okay, the next installment is here as well and my last update before I end this whole thing. I'm not too terribly happy. There is a reason for this. I am in crunch time and I want to get this thing done. Basically I am allowing myself to cut corners in order to reach 50,000 words rather than writing a good story. Now, I figured i would run into this seeing as 50,000 words is a freaking massive undertaking, especially over the span of one month. I do think I'm going to make it, though I am sorry to say that the quality of my story is going to suffer.

I suppose that is the risk you take when you start penning a novel with absolutely no direction or forethought. I've currently trudged through more that 41,500 words with no clear direction. I had little train stations of thought that I knew I would stop at, but really now clear track laid out that would get me there. The result is an up and down, round and round trip that is occasionally all over the place yet rarely takes you anywhere. I'm cool with this, and I hope all of you will be. I have one goal here: put 50,000 words down on multiple pieces of paper in some orderly fashion so as to tell a story. Frankly, quality really doesn't matter. These last few chapters I've been are the best indication of this. I really think the last couple of pages are a pile of dung, but, they are words, and have taken me from 35,000 to 41,000. So, I'm happy with that. I did however want to warn you that this had occurred. My story has left the tracks and all I'm doing is shoveling coal in the furnace in hopes that the engine keeps chugging forward, with the thought that eventually I will see the station through the fog.

Okay. Another thing. Predictions I've made in past posts are WAAAAAYYYYY off. I told you there is a story arc I was looking forward to getting to around chapter 12? Nope, I'm halfway through chapter 15 and that arc is nowhere in sight. I actually had three or four other arcs I was planning to pursue, but I realize now that they will take me far beyond 50,000 words, even past 100,000 words if I tried to pen them.

I'm not in love with this story. Matter of fact, I'm far from it. I don't particularly care for it at all. However, it is the horse I've hitched my wagon to, and it is getting me there, so I continue. Once I hit that elusive 50,000 word mark I will wrap up this story rather quickly. You can count on that. I'm ready to be done.

Now, that doesn't mean I'm done writing. If anything, this quest has proven that I can, if I chose to, construct a novel. To give you perspective, the first Harry Potter book is made up of 70,000 words. I realize now that a work like that is very attainable. I plan on starting an outline and begin writing a novel I can be proud of, one I might actually pursue furthering (i.e. publishing). The Enviable Life of Wyatt Klinker has done one thing for me; it's proven to myself that if I set my mind to it, I can actually write a novel. And for that, I will always be proud of it.

Okay, that's it for now. Here's the next chapter for those of you who are still reading...

CHAPTER 9: REVOLUTION

The beginning of spring semester was a blessing and Wyatt allowed himself to take it all in. He had arrived back on campus at the earliest possible time, on the earliest possible date. In fact, he had gotten up and left early, spending a better part of the morning hanging out in a coffee shop just off campus. It was cold and breezy, a typical Chicago winter’s day when he strolled the four blocks to his dorm, a feeling of resurgence and rebirth.
Wyatt had never considered himself college material. A year ago he hadn’t been sure what he would be doing. The thought of joining the military had crossed his mind, but the fear of the current political situation and deterred him from carrying out that plan. Now, as he strode across sidewalk in the front of his dorm, he realized that this place, this college, was where he belonged, at least he did at this moment.
The first day back was simple and relaxing. Wyatt propped the door open and welcomed back his hall-mates as they returned from their homes, lugging bags and boxes. He lounged about, watching television, reading or even cat-napping; all the while immersing himself in the solitude that only came when one was finally home.
Dave showed up around six-thirty, his cherubic face lighting up when he saw Wyatt.
“How ya doing, Wy?” he exclaimed as he gave Wyatt a huge bear hug.
The two spent the next couple of hours eating junk food from a care package Dave’s mother had packed and talking about their respective breaks. Dave showed off some of the new toys and gadgets he had gotten for Christmas while Wyatt simply listened. For once he was happy Dave was so self-centered, that way he didn’t have to explain that the only gift he had had to open on Christmas day was an envelope with a gift card to a local department store. At this time, when Wyatt was so happy to be where he was, he didn’t need anyone telling him how tragic his situation at home was.
Wyatt wrestled with himself as to whether he should tell Dave about Lindsey, and what had happened over break. Instead he just told him that she had given him the cold shoulder and ignored him. Dave, in a moment of personal restraint didn’t push, and the subject was dropped.
It was with great satisfaction that Wyatt climbed into bed that night, soaking in the comfort of the bed he had slept in the last four months. He was back where he wanted to be and after three weeks of trepidation and intense stress, he allowed himself to feel as if the future was looking pretty bright.

Wyatt awoke the next morning knowing that with this semester he was attempting to push himself to his academic capacity. The previous semester had been a good one. He had pulled good grades in all four of his classes and managed to make the Dean’s list. He hadn’t shared with anyone, but allowed it to a personal triumph he could recall when he questioned his current scholastic path. With his success the first semester Wyatt had convinced himself that he was capable and qualified to challenge the world of academia, to find his place and grasp the successes that it offered.
He had decided that he was going to take a brutal semester, and loaded up on classes. On top of the basic requirements, he figured that in order to accomplish his goal of passing all the classes he was going to have to pick ones that he really enjoyed; otherwise the schoolwork would be overwhelming.
Since he had first registered Wyatt had been reading up on the course catalogs and was captivated by one class in particular. While history wasn’t his strong point, Wyatt, due to his New England roots, had a profound interest in the Revolutionary War. He remembered walking the Freedom Trail, a simple painted red line on the sidewalks of Boston which would take those who chose to follow it past a variety of historical markers: Ben Franklin’s home, the sight of the Boston Massacre, even right to the pier where the U.S.S. Constitution was moored. Needless to say, when given the opportunity to sign up for HIS322, The History of Revolutionary America, Wyatt jumped right on it.
It was his first class, Monday at nine o’clock, and he was excited to get there. He left his dorm with plenty of time to spare, even skipping breakfast so as to not be late. He was the first one to arrive, a full twenty minutes before class. He found what he considered a choice seat amongst the horseshoe-like arrangement of chairs. He was dead center in the class, his back to the doorway, his view unobstructed to the podium and video screen centered in the room.
Wyatt leafed through his text book as students started arriving. Those who knew each other formed clusters, sitting beside each other, striking up conversations about their respective trips home. Those who were strangers to their classmates almost universally kept at least one empty seat between themselves and the people around them. Wyatt failed to notice one particular person walk in; head up along the row of chairs to the flanking edges of the horseshoe before reversing her course and returning to pull out the chair directly to Wyatt’s left.
He glanced up and immediately recognized Alex, the girl he had met at the library two months earlier. She was wrapped in a warm wool coat, a deep red scarf knotted around her neck. A matching beret like hat went well with her red locks. Immediately Wyatt’s heart started to pound.
“Well hey there,” she said as she pulled her cap off, leaving her hair a bit disheveled.
“Oh, hi, what are you doing here?” he asked before thinking.
She laughed, “Well I thought I would pass my free time listening to a professor talk about the Revolutionary War.”
“No, I mean why this class?” Wyatt recovered, realizing how stupid his first question sounded.
“Well, I’ve got everything I need to graduate but had to pick up an elective. I’ve had Dr. Swanson before and he was a great professor so I just decided to take this one. What about you?”
Wyatt thought for a second, “I’m from Boston and I’ve always liked the Revolutionary period, so here I am.”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind me sitting next to you, I’ll try not to bug you too much. Just make sure you study because if I cheat of you and your answers are wrong, I’m going to be pissed,” she stated seriously before letting a grin breakout across he face.
Wyatt smiled back. This semester was really starting out on the right foot.

Three weeks into classes and Wyatt was in love with his history class. While the others on his schedule seemed like a bore, his first class of the week was like cold splash of water on his face. It invigorated and made him excited to start the week. He was wholly committed to doing as well in that class as any he had ever taken, including high school. He wasn’t sure if it was the subject matter, the excitement and vigor of the professor, or if it was Alex.
She wasn’t as excited about the subject matter and with graduation looming in short order, she really didn’t put as much emphasis on studying as Wyatt did. She would whisper to him in class (completely destroying Wyatt’s concentration) or scribble out a note on a blank notebook to pass to him. Sometimes they were questions about what Dr. Swanson had just said, other times it was just stupid stuff, like questions about what he did over the weekend, or just dumb little comments. As much as he loved his class, he cherished everything she wrote.
One Wednesday, as they were discussing Henry Knox and the guns of Ticonderoga, Alex grabbed his notebook and scribbled out a note, “I’m starving. I crashed early last night and didn’t eat dinner.”
Wyatt glanced at the note, jotted in pink jell pen, and wrote back, “Why didn’t you eat?”
“I was reading for my international policy class and got tired,” she replied.
He jotted down a reply, noticing that his script was sloppy yet legible, while hers flowed smoothly, “yeah, I get tired sometimes and fall asleep studying. I hate when I do that.”
“I can’t believe you can’t hear my stomach rumbling,” she noted.
“No I can’t hear it, of course Dr. Swanson talks pretty loud,” he wrote, trying to appear to be concentrating on what was being said.
She grabbed the notebook away from him and set to writing furiously. Wyatt didn’t know what she was scribbling, but figured it must be important when she emphatically underlined everything three times.
She passed the notebook back to him, “HEY DUMMY, ARE YOU GOING TO ASK ME TO GO GET SOMETHING TO EAT WITH YOU AFTER CLASS OR AM I GOING TO HAVE TO HIT YOU OVER THE HEAD WITH THIS NOTEBOOK FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND???”
Alex did this to him. He had always considered himself someone who listened, who sat and watched people, learning what they were about, figuring them out then reacting to them so as to maintain control of himself. Alex messed all that up. It seemed that he lost his ability to reason, to form a complete thought. Yet, while in the past he was very uncomfortable with losing control, he found himself enjoying this more than anything. He just wished he didn’t look so stupid doing it.
He took the notebook and started writing, “Sorry, I guess you make me stupid. Would you like to get something to eat after class?”
Reading his note, she looked at him, “You can’t blame me for your stupidity,” she whispered.
Her smile melted him as she pushed his notebook back to him and turned her attention to the professor.

Typically his history class went by in a flurry, but today it drug on like a trip to the dentist’s office. It was nearly unbearable and once Wyatt even considering scribbling out, “Do you want to leave now?” just to get away earlier than ten o’clock.
Instead, he gritted it out and eventually the minute hand reached the apex of the clock. Alex had been strangely silent during class, and Wyatt wondered what she had been thinking. He was all smiles as they got up to leave.
“Where do you want to go? You want to stay on campus or do you want something from the city?” he asked as they pushed through the crowd in the hallway.
“Let’s just stay on campus, I’ve got a class in an hour and I don’t feel like rushing back,” she replied matter of factly, making her way to the exit.
As they walked she asked him questions about the lecture Dr. Swanson had given in their class. While Wyatt was quick to answer, he wanted to discuss something else. He wanted to discuss her.
What he knew about Alex was somewhat limited. He knew that her full name was Alexandra Phillips, and that she was from Rockville, a town up by the Wisconsin border. She was a senior majoring in International Relations. From the scribbles on his notebook (gathered in previous classes) he knew that she was the youngest of three children and the only girl. He also knew that she was currently single after being in a three year relationship. Wyatt hadn’t prodded her as to why they had split up, but relished the fact that they had.
“What are you hungry for?” Wyatt changed the subject.
“I don’t know, I just figured we would get in before they stopped serving breakfast. Pancakes sound good to me. What about you,” she asked.
In truth Wyatt wasn’t hungry at all. As was normal, he had gotten up and eaten breakfast prior to class, but he wasn’t willing to pass up an opportunity to hang out with Alex, “I don’t know. Pancakes do sound kinda good.”
There was no line at the cafeteria and they zipped right through, each gathering up a tray full of food and finding a seat by a large brick fireplace along the southern wall. The fire danced across the fake logs, and the heat felt wonderful after the walk from the history building. Alex took off he leather gloves and set them on the table then shed her coat. Wyatt did the same, ramming his cheap jersey gloves into the pockets of his jacket before taking it off and hanging it on the back of his chair.
“I am famished,” she said as she went to work on her tray of food.
Wyatt sat and watched, sipping on a glass of orange juice as she wolfed down a pancake.
After a few minutes she glanced up at hit and stopped in shock, “Oh my god, I must look like a complete pig.”
“No, you look fine. I’m just going to make sure I don’t get my hands anywhere near your mouth,” he joked, laughing at the subsequent face she made at him.
“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m just so hungry,” she made a visible attempt to slow down, one that Wyatt picked up on immediately.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse.”
She forced herself to put her fork down and take a long drink from her coffee. Wyatt wanted to ask her a hundred questions, but wasn’t sure what to say first. He wanted to know everything he could about her but he didn’t want to seem too forward. He was surprised when she broke the ice.
“So, why did you choose UIC?” she asked using the acronym for the University of Illinois Chicago.
“Well,” he started, trying to figure out the best way to say it, “my choices were a little bit limited.”
He went on to explain how he had intended on going to a community college out in Boston, but had been forced to find something in Chicago after the death of his parents.
Before he could continue to explain she interrupted him, “Your parents both passed away, oh I’m so sorry Wyatt.”
He could see real grief in her eyes when she said it and while the thoughts of his parents were still a tad painful, he felt good knowing that she really meant what she was saying.
“Yeah, they were on vacation in Europe and died in a bus accident. After that I came here to Chicago to live with my Uncle and his wife.”
“That’s terrible,” she replied, then quickly added, “oh I don’t mean living with your aunt and uncle. I mean you losing your parents.”
“I know what you meant,” he replied, “and yeah, living with them is actually fairly terrible.”
She looked at him quizzically, “What do you mean it’s terrible?”
Wyatt knew he had opened a can of worms and immediately thought of Lindsey. Instead of delving into the truth he just told her that he didn’t get along with my family very well and didn’t care for living with them.
Alex allowed the subject to drop. It was as if her line of questioning had ended and she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead she picked up her fork and started eating again.
“Tell me about your family,” he picked up the conversation, attempting to get her talking again.
She gave him a tentative look.
“Don’t worry Alex; I’m cool with talking about your family. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I want to hear about them,” he assured her.
Allowing herself to relax they spent the next hour sitting around drinking coffee, chatting about their lives, school and anything else. When it was time, Wyatt walked with her to her next class, continuing their conversation from breakfast. Before walking in, he asked her if she was interested in grabbing dinner later that night and after a brief pause, she agreed.
As Wyatt turned and walked away he couldn’t help but think about how happy he felt at that exact moment. In truth he couldn’t remember a time that he had been happier.

February 27th - Dear Starlog

Alex had been a little bit cold with me all week. It was really worrying me because I didn’t really understand why. Finally she told me that she was worried that she had given me a false impression. She told me that she isn’t interested in me as anything more than a friend and that she got the impression that I wanted more. I told her she was wrong and that seemed to make her happy. If only she knew.
I am so incredibly infatuated with her. I can’t tell you why. I guess it is just everything. She really isn’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen (dare I say that Lindsey is prettier than her) but there is something about her. She is an incredible person. I know she is super smart and makes me feel like an idiot sometimes but in truth I’m completely comfortable with that. I guess that I’ve never really felt that comfortable around anyone in my life. Sure, Steve and I are good friends, but with him it was difficult to carry on a sustained conversation. What’s more, he was difficult to be around in public even though I eventually stopped worrying about it. Still, when he and I hung out people still stared at him, at us. With Alex we are just a normal couple.
That’s probably the hardest thing to come to grips with. I like being with Alex because I like people thinking that we are a couple. Sure, it turns out that I was just dreaming about it, but I liked to think of us as two people that were joined, that were recognized as being a pair. Now we are just two people who happen to spend time with one another. Maybe I’m just being stupid, but our relationship now feels a lot more minimalistic.
Now my time with her seems strained, as if I am not good enough for her. I know that is wrong, and I’m placing an undo character flaw upon her. She has her reasons for not wanting a relationship and I need to respect that. But damnit, it is so hard. She is everything I ever wanted in a girl. I wish she felt about me the same way I feel about her. It sucks to think I trapped where I am. I wish I could erase all the feelings that I have, that I could just think of her as a friend, but I can’t. I need her to be more to me. I need her to feel about me the same way I feel about her.
I don’t know what to do. Actually, I do know what to do, but don’t want to do it. I need to let things cool down. I need to give her space. I need to adjust to life without her because up to this point I’ve allowed myself to think only the best of futures for me and with this discussion with Alex, I know that it just isn’t going to happen.
I feel completely sick to my stomach.

Wyatt Klinker Section 7

2008-11-24T11:42:00.002-05:00

Well, this weekend I ran headlong into a brick wall. I'm 33,000 words in and I am feeling drained by writing. I know I need to keep pushing, but with only a week to go, this hill in front of me seems so high. Right now I sit 6,500 words behind schedule with a mere 6 days to get caught up. I know that Thursday is going to be a completely loss and tonight is going to be impossible to get work done, so it is pretty daunting. Everyone I've talked to has said that after you cross 35,000 words it is all down hill and it becomes a lot easier. I would have thought I would start feeling a bit of that, but I haven't. Instead I've felt pretty oppressed.

The positives that I have working for me: 1. Angie only works late tonight, which means Wednesday night will be freed up for writing as long as Dad and Janie wait to come down until Thursday. 2. I have absolutely nothing planned for Saturday, which means I could get a lot of writing done then. 3. Megan will be home tonight and be able to help with the kids, so I may be freed up even more in the evenings to get writing done. 4. And most importantly, I work so much better under pressure that deadlines have never really bothered me.

Gracie has been a big backer of mine. She is always standing over my shoulder asking me how many words I have now, I many I need, and how long am I going to be writing. Sure, she wants me off the computer so I can spend time with her, but hey, she keeps me thinking about where I am and what I have to do.

I hope I can do it.

That said, here's the next chapter. Any support you can give would be appreciated.

CHAPTER 8: GREG

It was evident that it hadn’t taken his Uncle Rich long to convert the room over the garage back into a weight room. In fact, they had actually expanded the collection of free weights since he had moved away to college. It was also evident that they had no intentions of making the room back into Wyatt’s with his return home. The weight bench that had once been tucked into a corner to give Wyatt more space was now in the middle of the room, sitting on a red plastic mat. The new free weights sat underneath the television on a heavy black rack rather than filling up space in the walk-in like the old ones had.
The bed sat in the same place, just like where it had been when he’d left. A clean set of sheets and two worn blankets were folded neatly, waiting Wyatt. He laughed at the hypocrisy of the whole thing. Here his aunt paid a housekeeper to work forty hours a week for her, yet it was evident she had told Chaya to just leave the bedding for Wyatt to tend to.
Wyatt didn’t really care. It wasn’t as if he had never made a bed before. He just thought about how petty his surrogate family was and for a moment a wave of grief washed over him.
These feelings had come often at the beginning, soon after he had learned about his parents, but since going away to college they had been far less seldom. This place however was forever associated with that day, and just being here weighed on him.
“Three weeks, that’s all,” he said to himself as he unfolded the sheets and began making the bed. “I can handle that. I’ll just stay up hear and avoid everyone.”
After putting his things away and making his bed, Wyatt flopped down on the weight bench and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the next three weeks would hold. Lindsey was prominently at the forefront of his thoughts.
It wasn’t long before his Aunt Carla called out to him, hollering that dinner was ready.
Wyatt was surprised to see the table set with the nice glassware. He initially thought that perhaps they were treating him, seeing as this was the first dinner he had eaten at home since Thanksgiving (well, not really, they had went out for dinner then). Instead, Wyatt was surprised to see Lindsey walk in from the den holding hands with a tall, handsome boy.
“Wyatt, this is Lindsey’s friend Greg. He goes to her school” Carla introduced.
Wyatt looked the tall boy over and extended his hand, “Hi, I’m Lindsey’s cousin. Nice to meet you.”
“How ya doing Wyatt?” he replied, shaking the proffered hand.
Wyatt didn’t know what to think. Here was his solace, a guy that Lindsey seemingly liked (enough to ask to dinner anyway), that would take the pressure off of him. Wyatt was positive that given a choice between him and Greg, that she would choose Greg. This should have made Wyatt feel good, but instead he felt the slight crush of jealousy.
Lindsey, regardless of her relation to him, had been something of a milestone for Wyatt and while he felt a great deal of shame for what they had done, he still cherished the memory of those moments. It was an emotional tug-of-war he fought with whenever he saw her and the presence of Greg simply intensified one side.
“Wyatt, Greg plays basketball for our school,” Lindsey announced during the meal. “Did you ever play when you were in high school?”
“No, I didn’t play any sports,” he replied, glancing at her.
“Yeah, he’s really good. You should see him play,” she continued. “He played football to.”
“Wow, he’s must be quite an athlete,” Wyatt played along.
Greg looked up from his plate, not saying anything.
“He’s a senior. He wants to go to Northwestern when he graduates.”
“Oh yeah, what do you want to study?” Wyatt asked.
“I was think about psychology or sociology,” he replied, his mouth full of food.
“Well good luck, college is a lot different than high school,” Wyatt didn’t like what was going on. He got the impression that Lindsey was parading Greg in front of him.
Wyatt remained quiet through the rest of dinner, simply listening and watching as Lindsey and Greg talked with Rich and Carla. Occasionally Lindsey would cackle at something funny and grab Greg’s arm. Or he would say something that she would feel emotional about it and put her head on his shoulder. Each time she did so she would glance across the table at Wyatt, attempting to judge his reaction.
Wyatt hurried through his meal and excused himself, explaining he was tired after a week of exams.
Greg relayed that he was happy to meet him, and under the auspicious stare of Lindsey, Wyatt returned the sentiment.
“I’m sure Greg will be around while you’re home Wyatt,” Lindsey added as he turned to walk away.
“It will be nice to have him,” he replied diplomatically, not allowing her to get under his skin.

Wyatt avoided Lindsey whenever he could. For the most part it was pretty easy. She was rarely home. She was normally at Greg’s and on the rare occasions she was home, he was usually with her. That made it easy for Wyatt who just stayed in his room. Aunt Carla had evidently gotten used to Wyatt’s presence because she was home much more often; at least she was when Lindsey was home. It hadn’t occurred to him that she didn’t trust Lindsey either until one night when he was laying on his bed watching television, Uncle Rich came into his room.
“Wyatt, you got a second?” he asked from the doorway.
“What’s up Uncle Rich,” he replied, turning the volume down.
“Well, um,” the older man seemed uncomfortable; “I wanted to ask a favor.”
Wyatt seemed a bit confused but at the same time flattered. Up until this point he had been nothing other than a fixture around the house. To think that he could be useful to either of his guardians was a definite change.
“Sure, what do you need?” Wyatt was curious.
“Well, Carla and I are going to a company Christmas party and we were wondering,” he allowed his voice to trail off. “You see, um, Lindsey is having Greg over and I, well, we were wondering, do you think you could keep an eye on them?”
Wyatt considered what he was asking.
Rich continued before Wyatt could answer, “I mean I doubt anything is going on between them, but I don’t know, I guess I just don’t trust high school boys with my little girl.”
“Sure, Uncle Rich. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about. They’ll probably just watch movies, but I’ll keep an eye on them,” Wyatt thought back to the night Lindsey had visited him in his room and could feel his face start to flush.
“Thanks Wyatt, I really appreciate this,” he said as he turned to leave. “I don’t know why I should be worried, Lindsey is a good girl.”
After Rich had left Wyatt laid there thinking about Lindsey and Greg. It seemed to him like a strange relationship. According to Chaya, they had only started seeing each other a day or two before Wyatt had come home. It seemed to Wyatt like his Uncle Rich was a bit paranoid.
“Oh well,” he thought, “at least she’s leaving me alone.” Yet the whole idea of her getting serious with a boy rubbed him the wrong way.
He fell asleep that night thinking about her, about him, and about the mess that had happened between them. His last wish prior to falling asleep had been that he never would have come back here because he knew that Lindsey, if anything, was a weakness and temptation constantly hammered at him. Greg’s presence had just made it worse.
The next day was uneventful, Wyatt simply hung out in his room, reading or watching television depending on his mood. College hadn’t offered much free time for personal reading and he cherished the lazy winter break where he was able to knock out a stack of books with little interruption.
Before he realized it his Aunt Carla was knocking on his door, “Wyatt, we’re leaving. Please stay out of trouble while were gone.”
She turned to leave, but looked back, “Oh, Lindsey and Greg are downstairs in the den watching a movie. I don’t know what it is, but you might join them and see if it’s anything you’ve not seen.”
“Sure thing Aunt Carla,” he said, at the same time thinking, “Oh, so she doesn’t trust her either.”
Wyatt took his time wandering down to the den. He stopped off first in the kitchen and gathered some cheese and crackers to munch on. While he wasn’t set on destroying Lindsey’s evening, he wasn’t going to make it easy either. He had no loyalty at all towards his aunt and uncle, but Wyatt had promised to keep an eye on them and he wasn’t one to break promises.
“Whatcha guys watching?” he asked as he walked in and flipped on the lights in the previously dark room.
The two of them shielded their eyes from the light as Wyatt sat down in a recliner, the plate of cheese and crackers balanced on his knee.
“Wyatt, turn off the light,” Lindsey whined.
“Oh, sorry,” he said apologetically as he stood up, reached the switch and flipped the lights back off. “You guys want some cheese and crackers? It’s Gouda cheese. I don’t really like it, too smoky for me, but it isn’t horrible with crackers.”
His idle chatter evidently irritated Lindsey because she just whined again, “Wyatt, we are watching a movie, be quiet!”
“What movie is it?” he ignored her.
“It’s some zombie movie,” Greg answered. “Hey, I’ll try some of that cheese.”
His request garnered a nasty look from Lindsey as she attempted to ignore Wyatt.
Wyatt passed the plate in front of his cousin and Greg took it, setting it on his lap and proceeding to stack cheese upon crackers.
Lindsey looked at Wyatt and he could tell she was angry. Her brow was furrowed and her lips pursed. He knew he had gotten a rise out of her. He felt a bit guilty, as if he had pushed to far.
“I’m sorry Lindsey, I’ll be quiet. You mind if I watch this with you?” he heard her sigh audibly.
“I would rather you leave, actually,” she responded.
“Well, its Friday and there is nothing on regular TV, so I’ll just be quiet and sit over here and you won’t even know I’m in the room,” he replied, not giving ground.
She huffed and glared at him. All the while Greg sat there quietly, munching on crackers, watching the movie. She turned back to the movie and Wyatt could tell she was fuming.
They sat watching the movie for about a half hour, Wyatt commenting occasionally. For a little while he and Greg carried on a conversation about the stupidity of the characters before Lindsey shushed them, bring that to a close.
Shortly afterwards Lindsey said she was cold. Wyatt asked her it she wanted him to turn on the fireplace and she ignored him, getting up and grabbing an afghan off the back of a chair. She unfolded it and sat back down, covering up Greg and herself as she cuddled up close to him. He was pretty clueless to her attentions, riveted by what was happening on the television. She reached up and pulled his arm around him, stealing a glance at Wyatt as she did so.
In truth Wyatt didn’t really care. Her affections were all innocent and Wyatt was cool with that. So far he had done his job.
After awhile Wyatt was thirsty and decided to grab something to drink. After announcing what he was doing, and offering to get them something, he walked into the kitchen.
Lindsey jumped up and followed him, “That sounds good, I’ll help you.”
Entering the kitchen Lindsey closed the door between it and the den, “What are you doing Wyatt?”
“Nothing,” he replied innocently enough.
“You know you are messing with me, and I don’t particularly like it. Why can’t you just leave Greg and me alone?” she confronted him.
“Hey, I’m not doing anything, I just want to watch the movie is all,” he feigned innocently.
“That’s bullshit,” she exclaimed, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t carry back to Greg in the den. “Can’t you leave me alone so I can spend some time with my boyfriend?”
“No, I can’t,” he said honestly, because in truth he really had no other answer.
“What’s wrong with you?” she questioned.
“There’s nothing the matter with me, I just don’t feel like sitting in my room for the tenth straight night sitting around doing nothing. Is there something the matter with that?” he challenged back.
She stood staring at him for a few seconds, apparently trying to read his thoughts. Then a smile crept across her face, as if she had unlocked the answer to a riddle. She nodded her head at him.
“Greg makes you jealous, doesn’t he?”
Wyatt laughed, “Yeah right.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” she continued to smile.
“Why would he make me jealous Lindsey.”
“Well maybe because he is getting all of my attention and you aren’t getting any,” she said, her voice teasing him.
“Lindsey, what the hell is wrong with you? Why is it you think I want you so badly? I don’t, I never have,” he blurted back at her, losing his patience.
“You didn’t seem to mind kissing me all that much this summer, in fact, it seemed to me you were having a pretty good time right up until you started acting like a baby and got all scared.”
“Lindsey, listen to yourself! You’re my cousin, doesn’t that mean anything to you?” he countered.
“It didn’t seem to matter all that much to you when you had your hands all over me,” she barked.
“That was a mistake, and you know it. It was you that came into my room, or don’t you remember?” Wyatt was frustrated. “I stopped because I knew it was wrong and I knew you wouldn’t.”
“You’re a liar Wyatt. You got scared, and now you are all upset because I’m seeing someone. You are mad because you weren’t man enough when you had the opportunity and now you’re trying to take it out on me and Greg.” She pointed at him, “You had your chance, and you blew it.”
Wyatt was tired of arguing with her, “Whatever.”
“Fine, Greg and I will go up to my room and watch TV, you sit down here and just leave me alone,” she returned.
“No you’re not, you’re staying down here. I don’t want you going up there with him,” he ordered her.
She glared at him, “You really think you’re my boss? You think you can tell me what to do? Wyatt, you are nothing. You only stay here because my parents feel sorry for you.”
Wyatt felt the verbal jab, even though he was acutely aware of its truth. He had always realized that he would never be more than a guest here, a tolerated, if not unwanted guest, but hearing it still had an effect on him.
He felt compelled to hit back, “Hell, I don’t care if you screw his brains out Lindsey. The only reason I’m trying to stop you is because both your mom and dad asked me to keep an eye on you because they don’t trust you and they knew you would do something like this.”
“That’s bullshit Wyatt and you know it,” Lindsey yelled at him, “my parents trust me more than they ever will you. I knew you were jealous of Greg, but trying to convince me that they trust you more than me, that’s just sad.”
“Lindsey, just take it easy,” he tried to calm her.
“I’m going upstairs,” she announced, heading back towards the den.
“No you’re not,” he countered, sliding to block her way.
“Get out of my way, Wyatt,” she scowled.
“Lindsey, don’t do this, I promised your parents,” he let the words trail.
“Exactly Wyatt, MY PARENTS! Not yours, mine. I’ll deal with them, they’ll deal with me. If you were still in school this wouldn’t be an issue. They have no problem “trusting” me when you’re not here. You’re pissed because I have a boyfriend and you can’t have me,” Lindsey’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I gave myself to you Wyatt, and you threw me out. I thought you felt something but I was wrong. Now get the hell out of my way,” she pushed past him and back into the den.
He stood there, angry and frustrated. Should he pursue her and make Greg leave? “To hell with her, to hell with my uncle,” he thought to himself. “She’s a big girl; if Uncle Rich wanted a babysitter then he should have hired one.”
Wyatt made a beeline to his room, slamming the door as he got there. Moments latter he heard Lindsey’s bedroom door slam as well, signaling to him that she had carried through with her promise to retreat to her room.
As Wyatt sat there on the edge of his bed he replayed their encounter in the kitchen back through his head. Why had she insisted on thinking that he was jealous? He didn’t care who she dated. He should have never told her that he was supposed to keep an eye on her. That just made her angry.
“What should I do now?” he thought to himself as he sat there rocking back and forth.
He had half a mind to go and apologize, but fought with himself. He didn’t see why he needed to; she was the one being stupid.
He lay back on his bed and flipped on the television, looking for something that would occupy his mind. He flipped channels for about a half hour but he couldn’t get the argument out of his head. He needed to talk to her again, to clear it up. Resolved, he got up and headed for the door.
The hallway was quiet, her door still closed. As he approached he could hear the sound of the television, turned up incredibly loud. He got an extremely uncomfortable feeling as he rapped on the door.
“Go away Wyatt,” was all he heard come from the room.
This didn’t deter him; he had to talk to her, to make her understand everything, to clear up all these issues. Wyatt disregarded her message and gripping the knob, turned it and opened the door.
Their clothes were piled on the floor beside the bed. Wyatt knew immediately that he had failed his uncle. Lindsey glared at her cousin over Greg’s bare shoulder as for a moment he continued to bounce up and down on her, their naked bodies hidden under the covers, “Get out Wyatt!”
Stunned, Wyatt just closed the door and retreated to his bedroom, “Oh, Lindsey.”

January 7th - Dear Starlog

Tomorrow I finally go back at school. Frankly, these last three weeks at home have been horrible. I’m not sure I can stand to be around Lindsey anymore. Not just that I caught her having sex with Greg, but because I know that I cause her misery when I’m around. The night I walked in on her and Greg I initially just went back to my room and tried to forget what I saw. Needless to say that wasn’t real easy.
At about eleven-thirty I heard her bedroom door open and Greg leave. I don’t know why I cared but I still wanted to talk to her. When I heard her bedroom door close again I went to her room. It was pretty obvious she was crying. I didn’t have the nerve to knock.
I’ve spent the last couple weeks just avoiding her. Christmas morning was horrible for me and I’m pretty sure it was the same for her.
I’ve heard her crying in her room more than once over the last two weeks. I’m not sure it has anything to do with me, but it is likely.
After that Friday, Greg stopped coming around. Aunt Carla told me that they broke up that same weekend as our argument. Both her and Uncle Rich were disappointed because they really liked him, especially after I lied and told them that Lindsey and Greg just hung out in the den while they were gone that night.
It makes me feel ashamed that I wasn’t able to protect her from herself. Of course, I’m really not qualified to do so. Hell, I can’t even protect her from me. I knew that she had feelings for me all the way back to that day on the veranda, but I never did anything about it. In fact, I just made the matter worse by not stopping her when she came in my room.
I like to think that with me back at school I won’t have to worry about this any more. Unfortunately I’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand and my uncle’s house is now my home. With that comes Lindsey. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate not having control?

Wyatt Klinker Section 6

2008-11-19T12:47:00.002-05:00

The last couple of days have not been good for writing. First off, I missed work yesterday because I was sick. Angie, Balin and I all have some kind of crud. I actually thought it was going to be a good opportunity to get some writing done, but I was lazy. I didn't really do anything and as a result, I'm a bit behind. As of right now I am about 3200 words off of my pace. Now that's not bad. I've already managed to knock out about 1700 words today during lunch. I think Angie is taking Gracie to a movie the PTA is sponsoring tonight and if I can get Balin to behave, I might be able to get back where I need to be. If not, I have every intention of getting back to my pace (hopefully ahead of pace) by this weekend. I don't have a lot of time left but the good thing is that I am on my way back down off this writing mountain. I've passed the halfway point and now all I have to do is finish. Wish me luck.

Next section now. Enjoy...

CHAPTER 7: ALEX

There is a certain rhythm about a college campus, be it one set by the constant stanza set for by the class schedules or the movements by students from one class to another. Often times students become friends and travel in the same footsteps they created days before, only in partnership with another. They tend to eat at the same time, go to the library the same day of the week, and create a predictable schedule of life. This was Wyatt’s world, something that appealed to his core persona.
As part of his weekly schedule, Wyatt would go to the library to sit for an hour or so on Thursday nights reading his literature homework. Dave was a huge fan of some hospital drama and was insistent on watching every week. On top of that, Dave was one who interacted with the television, shouting or grumbling at the characters, or worst still, making predictions about the outcome of the weekly storyline. He had tried to draw Wyatt into his weekly ritual but had given up when Wyatt had simply told him that there were some things he would not think of changing about his roommate. Not sure what to think about that statement, Dave had just given up with a shrug.
Wyatt sat in his usual chair, fighting through the complexities of Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying. It was a difficult book and he found his eyes growing heavy quite often. When he thought he would fall asleep he would set the book on his lap and look around, taking a few minutes to look at the people around him.
It was late fall and the sun had set hours ago. Yet out the window to his left Wyatt saw under the light post the figure of a woman walking across the grass to the front door of the library. He watched as she approached. There was something about her that held his attention. She wasn’t gorgeous, but she wasn’t ugly either. Her nose could be described as hawk-like, a bit too big for her narrow, almost boney facial features. Her hair was cut relatively short, and was swept back off her face. Parted in the middle, Wyatt could see as she approached that it was a brownish-red in color. Her shoulders were hunched from the cold, her hands tucked inside the sleeves of her hooded sweatshirt. She held a book close to her chest, as if to ward it from the cold.
Wyatt followed her with his eyes until she disappeared from view for a moment as she passed through the doors and into the library proper. She carried the book to the front counter and deposited it in return slot. All the while Wyatt watched her.
He noticed that though she was relatively tall, she was very slight in build. Her hips were narrow under her faded jeans and the fingers of her hands were long and nearly skeletal. Her skin was pale but flawless. Her walk was neither graceful nor clunky. She just seemed to move with a musical like cadence, formal and assured.
She turned to leave and Wyatt pulled his focus away, afraid she might catch him staring at her. He picked up his book and pretended to be reading, glancing every once in awhile to watch the young woman.
It was evident she was dreading going back into the cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed the backs of her biceps as if to will the warmth back into her body. After a moment or two of that, she blew into her hands, warming them with her breath.
Wyatt didn’t know why she compelled him to watch her, but she did. Before long, he spoke, not realizing he was doing so until it was too late.
“You know, there’s another chair here, you can sit down and warm up before you go out.”
She turned and looked at him, not knowing if he was talking to her or not.
“You look like you’re freezing to death, come on, sit down for a second,” he felt buoyed by his initial outspokenness.
Wyatt had never been very outgoing. In fact, he felt best when he just blended in with his surroundings. Every since the fight with Dave though, he had grown more comfortable with asserting himself, be it in class, in his study group, or out in public with his hall mates at dinner. This however, speaking to complete stranger, complete female stranger, was a new sensation.
“I’ve got to get back to my room. I just needed to drop off a book,” she replied, a smile flashing across her face, then immediately disappearing.
Wyatt loved her voice from the first word she spoke. It was deep and sultry without effort. He stared at her, a smile plastered across his face.
“What?” she asked, wondering why he continued to look at her like that.
Wyatt shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Sorry about that, I zoned out there for a minute. I didn’t mean to stare.”
She laughed and Wyatt suppressed a shiver. “You’re strange.”
Wyatt smiled again, “I don’t know if that is a compliment or not. Sure you won’t sit down and warm up before heading back out there?”
“I don’t know, I’ve got a ton of homework to do,” she seemed to wrestle with herself internally.
“Well you need a break from it, right?” he offered, trying to give her a reason to stay.
“Well, this walk over to the library was supposed to be my break,” she parried.
“Oh, come on now, what is another five minutes?” Wyatt surprised himself with his tenacity.
The girl looked at Wyatt, then at her watch, then at Wyatt again before shrugging then flopping down in the chair across from him.
“I usually don’t talk to strange boys in the library,” she said, smirking at him.
“Well, before meeting you I didn’t actually think I was strange,” he answered back, returning a smile.
“I’m Alex,” she said, offering her hand.
“Hi, I’m Wyatt, nice to meet you,” he said as he shook her hand.
“Geez,” he said, “you’re hands are freezing.”
“My whole body is freezing. I should have worn a jacket but my dorm is right across the street and I was just going to run over for a second,” she took back her hand and thrust both into the pocket in the front of her sweatshirt.
Wyatt allowed himself to think, “I wish I could help warm you up,” but instead said, “well, it is November.”
“Watcha reading?” she asked, glancing at the book on his knee.
“Stuff for my lit class. It’s pretty boring.”
“Yeah, I hated lit,” she replied, “you aren’t a major are you?”
“No,” he quickly answered, “I don’t think I could handle four years of this stuff.”
“Tell me about it, I struggled with the two semesters I took,” she replied with a chuckle.
“Oh, you’re not a freshman?” he blurted out, cringing as he realized what he was asking.
“Oh no, I’m a senior,” she returned, “I take it you are?”
Trapped, Wyatt admitted, “Yeah, I am.”
Alex just smiled at him, not knowing what to say, “Well,” she said glancing at her watch again, I’ve really got to get going. It was nice meeting you Wyatt. Maybe I’ll see you again around campus.”
“Sure Alex, it was nice meeting you,” he replied, not believing how stupid he had been.
She got up and walked out, using her shoulder to push against the door, allowing herself to keep her hands tucked away inside her pockets. As she pushed through the door she flashed a smile at Wyatt and shook her head. All Wyatt could do was offer her an incredibly insignificant wave as she disappeared back into the cold.

December 16th - Dear Starlog

As of two o’clock today I can say that I have officially completed my first semester of college. The unfortunate thing is now I have to go back to my uncle’s house for winter break. I tried to get my RA, Tim to let me stay here, but he said that the dorms would be closed down and the heat basically turned off. I tried to tell him that I could handle it but he just spouted off about liability and all that garbage. In the end, it was just a no, so I guess I head “home”.
I’m not sure what my grades are going to be, but I’m pretty confident. Although I hate algebra and had to get a tutor for part of the semester I think I scored a solid “B” in that. Art appreciation was not a boring as I thought it would be (though I doubt I will be striking up any conversations about Manet and his style of impressionism compared to Monet anytime soon) and I know I got an “A” in there. The final was just matching artists and titles to various pictures and I aced that. Geography was my favorite class and I figure I should get a pretty good grade in there except I know I screwed up my Southeast Asia map on the final. Oh well. My last class, lit, was okay and I did alright in there too. I kinda cheated and skimmed the last couple books we read for class but I think the strength of the first half of the term will carry me to at least a “B”. Truthfully I wouldn’t be surprised if I got an “A” or “A-minus” in there too.
Looking back I have to say that college isn’t all that bad. For the most part it is pretty anonymous. Once in awhile I open my dorm room door and someone wanders in, but for the most part people just leave you alone. Same with walking around on campus, people generally stick to themselves and that’s cool with me.
Dave left yesterday to head back to Michigan. He was looking forward to being home for a few weeks. He has turned out to be a pretty decent guy. He is still a slob, but I can live with that. It is funny about him. I noticed that people tend to look at Dave the same way they look at my friend Steve, the one in the wheelchair. It might just be Dave’s stupid t-shirts, but I think it is just Dave. He draws attention to himself, even when he is doing nothing at all. I’ve heard people talk about charisma and the natural attraction people have toward others. I wonder if that works in reverse. Do anti-charismatic people like Steve in his wheelchair or Dave with his goofy looks and vulgar t-shirts do the same thing? What does that say about me, someone who is generally overlooked wherever I go? Is there a color spectrum for charisma with most people floating in the middle where others spike at the extreme poles? I don’t know. I guess if there is I’m happy to be right in the middle.
I think I’m going to stay here in the dorms as long as I can before they kick me out. That may just be until Friday (oh, today is Wednesday) but that’s fine with me. I know there are a couple of guys down the hall that are sticking around. I may hang around with them. I just don’t want to go back to Aunt Carla and Uncle Rich’s.

Wyatt Klinker Section 5

2008-11-17T08:19:00.004-05:00

What is is about weekends? You would think that they would offer great opportunity to let me catch up. Well, they don't. This weekend was pretty bad as far as writing goes. Friday night Russ and Carol came over (bringing Balin home who if you remember was supposedly sick and stayed home from the sitter's on Friday) and stayed for pizza. When they finally left around 8:30pm I managed to knock out a few words (less than 500) before giving in and playing games on the computer until midnight.

Saturday I managed to write a few hundred words in the morning. It was pretty slow going. In the afternoon I went to the grocery store and bought Angie a birthday present. When I got home a wrote a few hundred more words then gave up to get ready to go out to dinner. As a family we went to Smokey Bones to celebrate Angie's 42nd. When we got home a watched a movie with Megan and Ang before getting back on the computer at 10:00. I was able to write a good 1000 words in that sitting.

Yesterday I worked. I had no energy to write, so Wyatt and friends just sat, waiting for me to show up to work this morning. Hopefully I'll find time later to do some writing. If not, I should be able to get an hour or so in tonight. At least I hope I can.

Current word count: 24,308
Target word count: 28,339 (by day's end)
Words behind pace: 4,031

Okay, back to the story. Here is the next chapter...

CHAPTER 6: DAVE

It had taken Wyatt a couple of weeks to get his feet on the ground after moving into the dorms but he had finally decided on a routine and it seemed to be working for him. It started with getting to know his roommate, a guy named David Kaczmarek.
Dave was a sophomore from Birmingham, Michigan who admittedly didn’t want a roommate and was pretty excited about having a single right up until the time that the school sent him a letter telling him that he had been assigned a freshman named Wyatt Klinker as a roomie. Dave was quick to point this out to Wyatt, in fact he did so within a half hour of him moving in. Dave hadn’t cared for his roommate his freshman year (a feeling Wyatt assumed was mutual based on his first impression) and couldn’t find anyone to room with him. He had assumed he would just have a single considering there was never any indication that a roommate was being assigned. This suited Dave just fine, but now here was Wyatt, moving his stuff in.
Dave could best be described as slovenly. He had moved in the previous day (a perk offered to returning students) and Wyatt was surprised by the sheer lack of progress Dave had made. Rather than making his bed, he had simply slept on the mattress pad and covered himself up with an old blanket. His clothes were still in suitcases and stacks of stuff were piled on the desk and dresser. These remained there for at least a week until in an explosion of productivity Dave had moved everything to various drawers or thrown stuff into his closet. His bed however remained the bare mattress and blanket.
Wyatt had shown an incredible amount of patience with his older roommate. Dave was loud, obnoxious and generally disliked by everyone on the floor. He stayed up late, playing video games on his laptop or reading, not caring if Wyatt was trying to sleep. There were many times that Wyatt simply resolved himself to sleeping on a couch in the study room at the end of the hall until he snuck back in at four or five in the morning, well after Dave had went to bed.
Dave was a slob, throwing clothes all over, leaving food and garbage in the trash or on his desk until it stunk up the entire room. Through it all Wyatt didn’t say anything, he just allowed Dave to do his thing. Wyatt was patient and didn’t want to make waves, especially with the sophomore whom he’d been assigned to live. Wyatt had come from living with his aunt and uncle and frankly, even with all his faults, Wyatt decided that Dave was an upgrade.
The first week or so Wyatt had just spent time watching his roommate. He learned a lot about him in that short amount of time. Dave was always quick to talk about himself, rarely giving Wyatt the opportunity to speak. That suited the younger student just fine.
During this time Wyatt learned that Dave was an accounting major and didn’t really need to study very hard to get good grades. He went to class when he wanted and studied less than most. He had roomed with a guy named Charles the year before, but “Chuck” was a real problem; always bitching about Dave and they had never seen eye to eye. Wyatt was pretty sure who the real problem was, but didn’t say anything.
Dave was a big guy and generally didn’t practice exceptional hygiene. He showered every other day but other than that did not put much effort into his appearance. He typically wore the same clothes for days at a time, only changing them when he thought about it. His wardrobe consisted of baggy jeans and various t-shirts with different sayings on them, all of them attempting some degree of humor, with many of them vulgar.
In the end Wyatt was fine with just letting Dave do his thing. This of course suited Dave just fine and the two of them reached a point of quiet coexistence.
Wyatt started having issues when Dave began going through his things. If there was one thing Wyatt was guilty of, it was being introverted and private. When Wyatt had walked in and found his roommate sitting at his desk, reading Wyatt’s journal, he had simply cracked.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted.
Dave just looked up and with a smile answered, “Your cousin Lindsey sounds hot, you should bring her by so I can meet her.”
Wyatt snatched the book from the older man’s hand, slamming it shut. Dave initially looked indifferent then smiled broadly.
“Dude, lighten up, its not like I’m serious or anything. I wouldn’t try to steal your girlfriend, even if she is your cousin,” he laughed at his joke, right up until the time Wyatt grabbed a hold of him.
“Listen here you prick,” Wyatt growled, pulling the bigger student out of the chair and on to his feet. “You get into my stuff one more time and I will hurt you. Do you get me?”
Dave didn’t know what to say, he just looked at Wyatt and laughed, “What you going to do, call your dad so he can beat me up?”
Whether Dave knew about Wyatt’s dad and mother or not, he wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. He reeled back and punched Dave right in the gut. Immediately the smile erased itself from the other man’s face, replaced by an audible “ooof”. Wyatt drew back and hit him again, hitting Dave this time square on the chin.
An explosion of pain erupted from Wyatt’s knuckles, but he allowed his rage to take over. He continued to pummel the larger man until Dave had collapsed to the floor, his arms up to protect his face while he curled in a ball in order to avoid any more punches to the mid section.
Wyatt panted, “Now, I’ll tell you again, stay out of my stuff, do you understand?”
Dave just nodded, his face bruised, his eyes full of fear. To his surprise however, Wyatt stuck out his hand offering to help the other student up off the floor.
Afraid that Wyatt would hit him again, Dave struggled on his own to his feet, collapsing into his chair, at his desk.
“I’m sorry,” he finally mumbled, much to Wyatt’s surprise.
“What,” Wyatt had to ask, not sure if he had heard him correctly.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have read your diary,” he repeated, his eyes down.
“Dave, I’ve put up with your bullshit for two weeks now. I haven’t asked you to do anything. All I want is for you to leave me alone, you understand?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t my fault that they stuck me in this room with you and you didn’t get your single. I’m just here to go to school. They stuck me with you and as much as I would like to change rooms, I know it isn’t going to happen until the semester is over.” Wyatt felt strangely superior to Dave and the sensation invigorated him. “You can’t count on me moving out at the first chance I get. That should make you happy.”
“You want to move out? I didn’t mean to go through your diary.” Dave seemed clueless.
“Dave, it’s not just that,” and for the next few minutes Wyatt described to him all the things that bothered him about the other man. In the end, Dave just sat there and nodded his headed, a dumbfounded look on his face, as if all this information was being conveyed to him for the first time. When he was done, Wyatt stood, went over to Dave and patted him on the shoulder.
Dave looked up and smiled at his roommate, “Dude, I hope you don’t move out.”
The next day when Wyatt woke up to get ready for class, Dave’s bed was made.

September 16th – Dear Starlog

I still feel terrible about what I did to Dave, but you really can’t argue the results. I don’t think Dave will ever be a neat freak, but he does clean up after himself now, and he’s stopped using my bath towel to soak up whatever drink he inevitably spills. I think the real change has to do with the way he listens to me. He is willing to at least be receptive of what I have to say. Truthfully, that’s all I ever wanted. He’s still really loud when he comes in, and while he tries to be quiet, more often than not he wakes me up at night. On a positive note, I haven’t had to sleep in the study room since our misunderstanding.
I’m not a violent person. In fact, that little outburst of mine was the first time I had actually come unglued. I remember one time I got in a fight when I was in third grade and rather than try to hit the other kid, I basically just let him beat on me. I can’t even remember what the whole thing was about, but I do remember just standing there. I guess I’m a bit of a pacifist.
I think Dave was pretty spoiled as a kid. Matter of fact, I’m sure of it. He still gets care packages, one every week, from his mom. It is like a holiday when it comes because he tears through; sampling each of the treats his mom has packed. The last one he offered me a cookie but I passed, noting to him that I would rather not eat something that other people had already handled. Again, I think Dave learns a new lesson every day. I’m really starting to think he’s going to be an okay roommate.
We had a discussion about Lindsey the other day. After he profusely apologized again for reading my Starlog (I still don’t like calling it a diary) he asked me what happened with her anyway. I explained it to him and was taken aback by his perspective. He thought that maybe Lindsey was projecting on me the attention she felt she should be receiving from her dad. Now he didn’t go so far as to say that she was lusting after her dad. He just pointed out that he had read that people can become insecure, particularly if they don’t get the attention they feel from one of their parents. Made sense to me I guess and it sure helped explain some things. I think I’ll go with that explanation for now.
Now I suppose Dave and I have a bond. We certainly have an agreement. He promised he would never tell my secret if I promised to never beat him up again (or tell anybody I beat him up). I’m cool with that.
I’m doing pretty good in class. I like geography and literature isn’t too bad. I like to read so it makes it a bit easier. I would sooner be reading something a little less “classic” than Catcher in the Rye or breaking down Thoreau’s Walden, but overall it isn’t bad. For the first time in awhile I feel comfortable where I’m at. Maybe this whole going away to college thing isn’t so bad.

Wyatt Klinker Section 4

2008-11-14T10:26:00.002-05:00

I've hit a bit of a wall, I just need to push through it. I sometimes have days like that. In actuality I had a lot of distractions and wasn't able to write like I wanted to. I got to our sitter's house yesterday to find that Balin had just started getting sick and was throwing up all over the place. The little guy was in bad shape. He's staying home today with Carol volunteering to watch him. I really think he's alright now. Angie said he was eating like a little pig this morning.

Actually Balin isn't a very good excuse. Truth is, the part of the story I'm working on is very awkward and I'm struggling to spit out the words. I know how it is going to play out, but writing it is difficult. There is a certain literary value I'm trying to capture with the story and I need to be careful not to contradict it. I've already seen areas where Wyatt didn't actually act like Wyatt, and that bothers me. He is a very cerebral person, very observant. I want to portray his moments where he is impulsive as moments of great weakness. I think that if I was to go back after it is over I would do a lot of rewriting in order to capture the real Wyatt I want to portray. Anyway, it is a struggle during this portion and I want it to work, so it is taking some time. Now, that isn't to say I'm falling behind. I did write about 1300 words yesterday, putting me about 290 words off of my pace.

I plan on knocking out this next section tonight and getting into the next, which is an arc I'm really looking forward to. It is setting up a section that I think will surprise some people. Don't worry, I'm not going to turn Wyatt into a serial killer or send him off to some fantastic land with dragons and unicorns, but it is going to be a turn. I think it will do a lot to portray the person Wyatt is. In truth, the story was initially built around this upcoming section (a Chapter I will preliminarily call Earl). It should fall right around Chapter 11 or 12, just to give you perspective.

Anyway, here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear more comments if you have any to offer.

CHAPTER 5: SECRET

July sixteenth was a somber day for Wyatt. In his room above the garage at his aunt and uncle’s home he realized that this was the day he had originally been scheduled to fly home to Boston. Instead, he was unpacking his things again. He had traveled back east with his uncle to attend the memorial service for his mom and dad, and gather up some of his things to bring back to Chicago.
He remembered how empty his old house had seemed when he and his uncle had gone there.
“If there is anything of your parents’ that you want, get it now,” he remembered Uncle Rich telling him as they pulled up to the house. “The auctioneer is going to come in a do an inventory and make a list of everything to sell. If you don’t take it, it’s getting sold or thrown out.”
“What are they going to do with all of money they get from selling our stuff?” Wyatt had been curious.
“Well, my sister and her husband weren’t really very thoughtful about that part. Evidently you are set to inherit the entire estate, but it goes into a trust until you turn twenty-one. They’ve left very little to you directly. When I talked to the lawyer he assured me that in the very least they would release enough money for you to attend college, but that’s about it. It seems like they would have left something for Carla and me seeing as you have to live with us now,” Wyatt wasn’t sure that last part hadn’t been Uncle Rich talking to himself.
Wyatt hadn’t been sure whether getting his parents’ money was a good thing or not. He would have rather just moved back to Boston, but unfortunately no provision was made in the will for the house and all the belongings inside to go to him. To the letter of the law everything was sold except for those items of sentimental value claimed by the family. Uncle Rich had evidently decided that Wyatt’s mom’s jewelry and his dad’s coin collection had sentimental value to him.
Wyatt’s other uncle, Bernie, had come up from New Jersey and went through and took a couple of photo albums of his parents which Wyatt’s mom at meticulously arranged. She had been a fiend for scrap booking and the work she had done was incredible. Wyatt had made sure to take the remaining scrap books for himself.
They had spent the entire day at the house rifling through boxes in the basement, going through drawers and closets and packing up a few of Wyatt’s things. He had wanted to bring his bed and dresser, things that he was comfortable with, but Rich had told him no. The stuff in Chicago was good enough for him, even if these things held sentimental value.
In the end Wyatt had settled on a few of his books, his stereo, Playstation, and some of his clothes. The rest he left behind, never to see again. As he walked out the front door, his arms loaded with his stuff he looked back and felt a pang of sadness. The house, ever his sanctuary was no longer his. He was heading back to Chicago, where he had never felt comfortable.
The day after they had sorted through all their belongings at the house Wyatt and his uncle had went to the memorial service. There had been a lot of people there that Wyatt hadn’t known and relatively few family members. Everyone however took a moment to offer their condolences to the young man, shaking his hand, patting his back, hugging him and generally saying how sorry they were for his loss.
Wyatt had found the most difficulty in saying goodbye to his friends, particularly Steve, who had shown up in his red wheelchair, pushed faithfully by his mother. It had been difficult for either of them to say anything and after a few awkward moments they simply hugged each other and said goodbye, promising to write each other and even visit if it was possible.
Wyatt had been gone six short days though it had seemed like an eternity. Each day had been difficult for one reason or another. It was a less than memorable trip, though as he lay on his bed, in the room above the garage in the suburbs of Chicago, his mind was back on those few short days in Boston. He had missed his house so much that it tore at him just to be there again. He had felt strange standing in the kitchen, absent his mother who seemingly was just another fixture. The chair in the den where his dad wiled away the evenings, watching sports or some documentary on the Discovery Channel had sat empty. Thoughts of that made him smile as he recalled tucking the television remote into his book bag: Uncle Rich had told him to take stuff with sentimental value.
A house is a house he thought to himself, though he found himself grieving more for that place than he did his parents. For this Wyatt felt disgusted. He should be bawling his eyes out over the loss of his parents. Sure, he had shed some tears, but like the day he had heard of the accident, fear for what was to come had been the overwhelming emotion that poured over him. Now, it was dread over spending his days trapped in this room, trapped in Chicago living with surrogate parents that certainly didn’t want him.
“What am I going to do?” he thought to himself. “maybe I should just leave, go find a place for myself.”
Wyatt wasn’t an overly emotional person, but as he lay there on his bed in the growing gloom, with the sun going down on Chicago, he wept. He wept for the life he was living. He wept for the friends he had left behind, but most of all, he wept for the future he thought he had had in Boston.
It wasn’t like it was anything special. He had enrolled at a local community college with the intention of taking a few classes just to get a feel for things. He was not sure what he was going to do. He knew that school wasn’t really his thing, in fact it bored him to death, but he had to do something. He remembered arguing with his parents when they insisted he either go to school or find a job. Planning was never Wyatt’s strong suit.
Wyatt had decided that community college with give him something to do and get his parents off his back. Besides that, he could hang out with Steve, who had also enrolled. It wasn’t as if they were inseparable, but being with his wheelchair bound friend made him happy and Wyatt had always felt better about himself when Steve was around.
Now that was gone, a dream to never be realized. Not that it was much of a dream, but it was a snapshot of the future that Wyatt could grasp. He liked control, and having a direction to move towards gave him that. Now he had lost it, now it was all gone.
There was no telling how long Wyatt had cried before the tension and exhaustion from flying back from Boston earlier that day overtook him.
It was two thirty-four Wyatt noticed on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand beside his bed when he felt someone tugging on his shoe, attempting to pull it off. With a bit of effort it slipped from his foot and Wyatt heard it clunk to the carpeted floor as it was dropped. The other had already been removed prior to his waking.
“What…?” he asked the specter that had pulled off his shoe.
“It’s me, it’s alright, just relax,” he heard Lindsey’s voice. “I was worried about you. I heard you crying earlier and I felt so bad. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied, “What are you doing in my room?”
“I got up to use the bathroom and when I peaked in I noticed you were still dressed. I figured I’d just come in and tuck you in, or whatever,” she told him, “You miss your parents, huh?”
Wyatt didn’t know what to say, so he lied, “Yeah, it’s tough. I miss them a lot.”
“Do you want to talk about it,” she asked, her outline coming into view in the dark.
“No, I’m okay, just a little sad,” he replied.
He felt her arm on his shoulder as he laid there, her small hand immediately sending a shiver up his back. With his back to her, he felt the bed compress as she sat down beside him.
“I can’t imagine what you are going through, Wyatt. I could never bear losing either of my parents, let alone both of them,” she smoothed his shoulder with her hand.
“I’m okay,” he repeated. His heart had started to race and he had to force himself to relax. “She’s just here to comfort me,” he thought to himself, “this isn’t anything to worry about.”
Yet his thoughts turned to panic when he felt her lean down and kissed his neck right behind his ear. Before he could do or say anything, she stretched out and laid beside him, her arm draped around his waist, her mouth right at the back of his neck.
“Its okay, Wyatt, I’m here,” she whispered to him.
He could feel her body pressed against his, her torso conforming to him, fitting together on the small bed. Her hand stroked his stomach and chest as his heart raced a mile a minute. He felt paralyzed with fear, yet a part of him enjoyed the feeling. It had been a long while since anyone had actually held him, and never had he felt the intimacy of a woman. He was hypnotized by the sensation, and while his mind screamed how wrong this was, he justified to himself that she was simply comforting him at a time when he was grieving.
Lindsey had an athletic build, and as she pressed against him, Wyatt felt the firmness of her body. The muscles of her bare thighs brushed against the hairs on the back of his legs and sent goose bumps across his body. He was acutely aware of every movement of her hand as it played across his torso. He drew in a deep breath as his dipped towards his waist line, only to change direction and move back up to his chest. She was driving him crazy, but still he continued to lie there, wondering how far she would take this.
“I’m sooooo sorry Wyatt,” she whispered in his ear, “is there anything I can do?”
Before he could utter a response he felt the flicker of her tongue as it fluttered across his earlobe. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body absorbed the torrents of pleasure that washed over him.
Pulling at his chest she rolled him towards her, and on to his back. She immediately draped herself across him, her leg entangling itself with his as she found his mouth with hers.
Wyatt was powerless as he allowed her to savagely kiss him, her body grinding against his. He couldn’t even force his arms to wrap around her. It was as if a paralysis had taken hold of him and he was nothing more than a puppet for her to play with. As she kissed him his eyes were opened, focused on nothing but the darkness. This was so wrong, yet his resolve had cracked, broken like a dam strained by too much water.
He like he had been broken, yet there was no regret. Upon this realization he began to kiss her back. The paralysis immediately lifted and he wrapped his arms around her. They kissed for a moment before Wyatt rolled her onto her back, allowing him to take a position of control.
They continued to kiss, Wyatt’s mouth playing over her neck and the line of her jaw. He felt so alive has her nails dug into her back. She gasped multiple times in pleasure as he tickled her ear with his tongue.
Wyatt couldn’t believe what he was feeling. It was so incredible. The air itself felt electric.
He took a breath, and laid there beside her, looking up at the ceiling. She then reached down, grasped his hand in hers and guided it up her body. She let out a whimper as his fingers played across her breast.
Wyatt simply shuddered. He laid there thinking, “I can’t believe this is happening.” He allowed his hand to kneed her breast as she let out a slight moan. Turning on his side he brought his other hand up and explored her chest with both. She then lifted her head and kissed him again, her tongue wrestling with his as he continued to massage her body.
When their mouths separated he could feel her staring at him in the dark.
“Wyatt?” she asked.
“Yes?” he replied as he allowed his hand to slip beneath the long t-shirt she wore as pajamas.
“I really want you,” she answered back.
Wyatt wasn’t sure what light came on in his head. Perhaps it was the recognition of Lindsey’s voice, there in the dark, asking him to ravage her, perhaps it was a moment of divine intervention, but immediately Wyatt felt sick to his stomach. Pulling his hands off of her he immediately rolled over and sat up on the bed, reaching for the lamp on the light stand.
The room flooded with light and both of them squinted as their eyes adjusted. When he could finally see, Wyatt saw his cousin, her t-shirt pulled up, revealing a pair of pink and lime green polka dotted panties. Her flat stomach and navel could be seen and Wyatt forced himself to turn away, to not look at her as the object of passion he had allowed her to become.
“What’s the matter?” she asked him, a hint of anger in her voice. “What’s the matter, Wyatt?”
“I can’t do this,” he explained. “Lindsey, this isn’t right, you’re my cousin.”
Wyatt looked back at her, even though she hadn’t moved. He could feel his strength and resolve returning. No longer did he yearn for her body, instead he was disgusted at himself for what he allowed himself to do. She had controlled him and Wyatt was angry.
“Lindsey, you need to go,” he commanded, reaching for her hand, and pulling her up off the bed.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, holding her ground, refusing to allow him to guide her from the room.
“This is wrong Lindsey, we can’t do this,” he told her sternly.
“You weren’t so sure of yourself ten minutes ago,” she rebutted, causing Wyatt to blush. Her tone immediately softened, “is there something wrong with me?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” he stammered.
She moved back towards him, a smile creeping across her face, “You know you want me.”
He turned away from her, “No Lindsey. I don’t want you, now go away.”
Wyatt refused to turn back around, even when he heard a sob come from the girl’s mouth. He stood looking at the blank wall until he heard the door close, then allowed himself to sit down on the bed.
Wyatt was shaking as he buried his hands in his face and wept again, wondering what he had just done.

August 3rd - Dear Starlog

It’s been a couple of weeks since the thing with Lindsey and all I can say is that it is getting pretty weird around here. For about a week you could tell she was pissed at me. She wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me. Aunt Carla had even noticed and asked her why she was so angry. She told her that I kept leaving the toilet seat up and it was making her mad. I think that kind of tempered things for her because the next day she started acting nice to me again. Maybe she got sick of being mad. My hope is that she finally realized how wrong it was to do in the first place.
I figure I’ll just avoid her for the next few weeks until I leave for school. I was able to go through some late registration deal and get into the University of Illinois-Chicago. The campus is right downtown. I was going to stay here and commute, but Aunt Carla wanted to make sure that I got to enjoy everything the college had to offer. Truthfully it didn’t take much convincing for me to decide to live in the dorms. For some odd reason I don’t think this thing with Lindsey is quite over with.
I can move into the dorms on the twenty-seventh, though my guess is moving isn’t going to take all that much. It’s not like I have much to begin with. I left most of my stuff back in Boston for the auctioneer to sell. I figure I could move in about a half hour before classes start and still have plenty of time.
I’m taking twelve credit hours the first term. Truthfully I’m not sure what is going on. My uncle had to pull some strings to get me accepted and enrolled considering how late I was applying. He knows one of the trustees and was able to feed him the hardship line seeing as my parents died in a bus crash a month and a half ago. They did have problems finding classes for me though. I guess everyone else registered way early, I mean in May or April, so I didn’t have much to choose from. I ended up taking college algebra, regional geography, intro to literature, and art appreciation. Looking over that schedule I honestly can tell you I’m not the least bit excited.
I’m kind of excited about going to college though. This place has been nothing but a tomb lately. Lindsey is never home, not that she would talk to me anyway, and I guess Aunt Carla has gotten tired of paying Chaya overtime because she doesn’t come in on weekends anymore and stays pretty busy on the weekdays. I talk to her once in awhile and even help her clean up just to give me something to do. I should go into the city, but I’m horrible with directions and would probably end up lost on the south side and end dead or something. I figure I’ll be living downtown soon enough and will be able to figure out my way around once I move.

The Enviable Life of Wyatt Klinker Section 3

2008-11-12T11:07:00.003-05:00

Well, now we're rolling. Truthfully I'm pretty proud of myself. I was way behind coming out of the weekend and now I'm at 18,444 words. This comes after a furious writing session yesterday where I was able to bury about 6000 words. Believe it or not, this is getting easier as I move along. I know I'm not quite halfway there, but I happy to know that I still have a good bit of story up in my head and really am beginning to feel that I can get this written. This weekend may be a bit of a test. Dad and Janie plan on coming down Saturday and that night we are going out to celebrate Angie's birthday, so my time will be limited. Angie is scrapbooking on Friday night and I never get anything done when I'm trying to watch the kids. That leaves Sunday, and I'm scheduled to work. Could be rough. I'm hoping to use Thursday night as a writing night so I can work ahead. I wasn't really fond of having to make up all those words over the last two days. I plan on writing through lunch today, so hopefully I can make progress.

This next section is fairly long and takes you through word #12117, so there is another 6000 words already on paper. Hopefully I can stay ahead of your reading while still supplying semi-daily updates.

Kevin: I Appreciate your comments and would love to hear from others. It makes me happy knowing people are reading this stuff.

Anyway, here is the next section, hope you enjoy it...

CHAPTER 4: OFFICER

Wyatt walked around Navy Pier in Chicago, Lindsey talking as they walked. He wasn’t really paying attention; instead he took in the view. Lindsey was a lot more talkative then he had ever guessed she could be.
He had never had any intention of asking her to take him in to town and evidently Chaya had figured that out because on Tuesday she had called in and said she could not come in to work because she had been up all night with two sick kids.
It wasn’t long after his aunt had made this announcement that Lindsey had suggested they go in town to Navy Pier and maybe head down town to walk around and “see the sights”. Carla had feigned excitement and said that she thought that going downtown was a great idea. She even gave Lindsey some money and told her to make it a day, maybe have some dinner down there as well. She said she felt bad that they had missed the Fourth of July fireworks the previous day and wanted to make it up to them. Wyatt knew that she just wanted him out of her house.
It was sunny and hot and while it was a work day, the holiday had drawn quite a few people to the city. You could tell that most of the people around them were tourists. Many had cameras draped around their necks and a smile plastered across their faces as they enjoyed the city.
Wyatt could have been mistaken for a local. This really wasn’t his idea of a good time. While he loved watching people he did not like being out amongst them. He preferred to watch from the shadows, only coming out when he chose. Lindsey on the other hand looked completely comfortable in these surroundings. She talked and laughed about different trips down to this area of the city and of different things she had done with her friends. She constantly asked questions that Wyatt struggled to answer. When given a choice he usually just replied with a lazy “I don’t care” and let her lead him around to where she wanted to go.
One good thing about this trip into town was that Lindsey had not shown any of the interest she had displayed on the veranda a week earlier. Wyatt had been nervous while he was getting ready to go yet once they had left he could not detect any of the sexual tension that had been present the last time they had been alone together.
This made him feel good. While he wasn’t very conversant, he was comfortable at the moment and he could live with that. The control that he had seemingly lost when Lindsey had given him that “look” had really disoriented him and thrown him off. He needed control; it was all he really had.
“Let’s go over to Louie’s!” she explained suddenly, breaking off from a story she had been reciting about how her friends had eaten so much cotton candy they had gotten sick. “They have the best pizza in Chicago. You’ve got to try it!”
For once Wyatt was in agreement. They had been down here since ten o’clock and it was going on two. Had there been one thing that Wyatt had hoped for when he flew out here it was getting to taste the pizza. Steve had told him about the super thick dough and the huge amounts of toppings so prevalent in pizza out in Chicago.
A short ride on the “L” brought them within blocks of Louie’s, a tiny place crowded between two non-descript businesses in the heart of downtown. The windows were tinted dark and Wyatt couldn’t see inside but when the door swung open he could smell the wonderful aroma of fresh baked pizza. Immediately his mouth started to water.
The inside of the restaurant was a lot more spacious than what the street view conveyed. Being mid afternoon there were few customers and Lindsey and Wyatt were able to choose a comfortable booth towards the back of the restaurant.
The dark green vinyl booths were worn and ripped in places and the walls needed a new coat of paint, but the place was comfortable, and Wyatt liked it immediately.
“What can I get you kids to drink?” a chubby man in a stained white apron asked them, not quite approaching the table.
“I’ll take a Coke,” Wyatt replied.
“Me too, please,” Lindsey followed.
“Two Cokes, no problem. I’ll be right back,” he said as he turned and walked through a swinging door into the kitchen.
“Well, you’re the native, what’s good here?” Wyatt asked his cousin, reaching for a menu tucked in behind the salt and pepper shakers next to the wall.
“Well, I’m a traditionalist. I usually just go pepperoni but I’m willing to try something different if you want. You are the foreigner after all,” she replied with a smirk.
“Well, they do say that the merit of one’s pizza is based on the basics. Why try replicating a Picasso when you can’t even color inside the lines? Let’s do the pepperoni and see if this place is as good as you say it is.” Wyatt accentuated his words with a nod, drawing the same from his cousin.
When the waiter came back she ordered for them and they sat back relaxing in the cool air conditioning while they waited for their food.
“What’s Boston like Wyatt?” she asked him out of the blue.
“I don’t know, I guess like this place only a little smaller. I know it’s a hell of a lot cooler in the summer than this place is,” he laughed. He sat for a moment thinking, the smile leaving his face. “Its home. I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to explain. The people are rude, the traffic is terrible. But I miss it. I don’t know why, but I do. I look forward to going home.”
“You get along with your parents?” she asked and for a minute he was afraid that they were about to revisit their conversation from the patio a week earlier.
“They’re okay I guess,” he told her. “I mean, they give me a hard time, but overall they just leave me alone and I’m cool with that. Mom, she sometimes gives me a hard time about my room or dad yells at me when I don’t mow the lawn when I’m supposed to, but overall they aren’t bad.”
He sipped on his Coke.
“Do they ignore you like mine ignore me?” she asked and he realized she was fishing.
He thought for a minute, “Yeah, they do, but I think that’s just what parents do. They get so involved with life that sometimes I think they want to forget. I remember that when I was growing up my mom stayed home and didn’t work so she could take care of me. I remember her telling me they she was so fed up with me and that she just need to get the hell away from me sometimes. I suppose she is just taking advantage of that now.”
“That’s how I feel,” she replied, her eyes dropping to the red checked tablecloth. “My mom and dad really don’t spend too much time with me anymore. Sure, mom wants me to go with her when she goes shopping or stuff like that, but usually she just ends up telling me to meet her somewhere in a couple hours then I go off on my own.”
“What about your dad?” he asked.
She looked up with a smile, “I remember there was a horse farm way out south of the city. Dad used to take me there when I was little. I loved our trips out there. They had a little corral with pony rides and we used to go and pick out a horse for me to ride. I remember being way up on the horse, him holding on to my leg so I wouldn’t fall off. Afterward we would go out and get ice cream or just go to a little country store and pick out a bunch of snacks to eat in the car on the way home. Dad used to tell me not to tell mom that we were eating all that junk food because she would be mad we spoiled our dinners.”
“Sounds like you really had a good time,” he said as she continued.
“Yeah, we did. When I turned ten we quit going there and then he stopped taking me anywhere. I don’t know why. I still miss those days.”
“Ya know, sometimes people just get caught up in other things. Before you know it you’ve left that other life behind,” he said as she nodded, “it’s kinda like best friends that just grow apart. My guess is that you and your dad grew apart as you got older.”
She watched him for a minute, not saying anything. He fidgeted with his napkin, folding it into a paper airplane, thinking nothing of the silence.
“You’re different Wyatt. Why is that?” she asked him.
“What do you mean, I’m different?” he quizzed her.
“You know, you’re different. I wouldn’t say you’re weird or anything, because you’re basically normal, but you don’t act like most guys. I don’t know what it is,” she toiled with how to explain it.
He looked at her intently. He was extremely uncomfortable discussing himself, giving away his secrets. He still wasn’t sure about his cousin, but her admission about her father made him feel akin to her. He had been told before how complicated he was and had thought about that a lot. He had a pretty good idea what people saw, and as simple as it seemed to him, those who analyzed him had a difficult time figuring him out. On the other hand, by explaining how he worked to others, he gave away his power, and that wasn’t something he liked to do.
“I don’t think I’m different,” he said, not quite willing to give full disclosure. “Lindsey, I’m just like everyone else, I just don’t act like everyone else.”
“Well duh! That’s no real secret Wyatt. Why do you think we are having this conversation?” she smiled broadly, her teeth as straight and white as any he had ever seen.
“What I mean is, I spend more time watching people, learning about people, figuring people out than most people do,” he admitted to her, feeling some relief and some trepidation.
“Do you watch me?” she asked with a bit of a coy expression.
It was completely lost on Wyatt whose mind was racing, trying not to disclose everything, “Yeah, I watch everyone,” he replied without thinking.
“What do you watch me doing,” she prodded.
“Just about everything actually. I watch you eat, how you look at each bite, almost like you are analyzing it before you finally take it”
“I do not!” she interrupted, a huge grin playing across her face.
“Hey, you asked. I’m just telling you what I see,” he defended himself, hands up in front of him as if to ward off a blow.
“What else,” she relented, sitting back in her seat so as to listen fully.
“I watch you talk on the phone. I watch you from the window of my room, when you are swimming or sunbathing or just sitting in the backyard. I watch you all the time,” his mind carried him back to the many times he had focused on her. The memories played in his head, and he seemed lost, distant from the present.
He recalled one day a couple of days ago when he had seen her climbing out of the pool. While she was very well built and extremely sexy in her royal blue bikini, it was her face he had focused on. He had noticed that she was completely expressionless. He remembered thinking how sad that seemed. It had been a beautiful day, complete void of clouds. The heat was no excessive and a cool breeze made it just perfect, yet he remembered her climbing out of the pool and a sense of dread filled him.
How could someone who seemed to have everything she could ever want, living in a beautiful house, look so stoic and melancholy? It just hit him as wrong, and it bothered him.
She was saying something to him, but he didn’t hear her, instead he just let that memory play in his head. The worse thing about watching people was that there were so many mysteries, ones that in most cases you would never solve, no matter how long you watched them.
“Wyatt, are you alright,” she asked, shaking his hand.
He snapped out of the trance he had seemingly entered and smiled at her. “Yeah, I’m okay, I was just thinking.”
At that, the waiter arrived with the pizza, steam rising off of it as he set it in the middle of the table.
“One pepperoni for the happy couple,” he proclaimed as he placed plates in front of each of them and began the task of shoveling a slice of the ultra thick pie from the scalding black pan it was housed in.
Neither Lindsey nor Wyatt corrected him, intent on the meal in front of them. Based on looks alone Wyatt was positive he was about to experience paradise.

Wyatt ate all he could and still only managed two slices of the delicious Chicago style pizza. He wasn’t sure how he was going to go back to Boston and eat the stuff he was used to. Lindsey had been right about this place and Wyatt knew that he would have to hit the non-descript restaurant at least one more time before he headed back home.
Offers by the waiter to box up the leftovers were met with multiple confirmations, as Wyatt raved about the food. Lindsey simply sat back and smiled with a knowing “I told you so” look on her face.
Glancing at his cheap watch, Wyatt noticed that it was well past three thirty. “Well, you think we should get going?”
“Yeah, Mom wanted us home by five and it will take a good forty-five minutes in rush hour to get home,” she replied, gathering up her purse.
“Aunt Carla wanted YOU home by five,” he thought without saying anything. “He didn’t figure he would degrade his host anymore with her daughter, considering Wyatt felt Lindsey was already passing her own judgment on her family.
They walked out of the restaurant and were immediately hit by the mid afternoon heat. It had grown almost oppressive by this time and both agreed that they should race back home so they could jump in the pool.
They turned right and walked the four city blocks to reach the train station. As they approached they noticed a man standing beside the entrance, an old worn White Sox hat in his hand, extended to those who walked past him. As they approached they heard him ask, “spare a few coins for a meal?”
The man had very dark skin, and graying hair. A scruffy white beard covered his face and extended down his neck. His forehead was covered in sweat, yet he wore multiple layers of clothes. His pants were old blue Dickies, torn and patched in multiple places. A layer of filth spotted them. Underneath his open wool coat he wore a grungy black t-shirt. A logo on the breast pocket was faded to the point where it was no longer recognizable. His hands we wrinkled, the palms callused. His nails were long, and thick grime was noticeable beneath each.
His eyes we heavy and sad looking, and Wyatt was moved by his paltry appearance.
“Can you spare a couple bucks so I kin git me a sandwich?” he pled with them as they neared? He pushed out his ball cap, and Wyatt noticed it had a couple of coins in it, but nothing more.
Wyatt reached into his pocket to fish out some money but Lindsey stopped him, “What are you doing? You don’t give money to those scumbags otherwise they’ll follow you around forever. Just ignore him. If he wants a sandwich he can go to the shelter or get a job. He only wants the money so he can buy some more booze tonight.”
Wyatt was a bit taken back by Lindsey’s words. For a second there he saw her as his Aunt Carla, callus and unfeeling.
Wyatt gave the man a look, and the poor bum smiled back, yet there was morose in his face, one that told Wyatt that he understood Lindsey’s words and that this wasn’t the first time he had heard them. He nodded at Wyatt and then just turned away, retreating into the shadow of the building until the next person came along and he tried his luck again.
Lindsey and Wyatt made their way down to the train platform, crowded with a mass of people, pushing through turn styles and waiting for the next train. It didn’t take long before the correct train came barreling into the tunnel, its brakes squealing as it came to a stop along the long concrete platform. The doors opened and hundreds of people spilled out moving in mass to one of the exits from the station.
The two teens waited their turn and like the others, pressed into the rail car with its red seat and grungy lights.
The “L” was crowded and smelled of summer sweat as people jostled for seats, or attempted to maintain their balance as the train rattled down the tracks. There was a distinct sound to the train, one unique to Chicago.
The car was loaded with people of all walks of life. Just when it seemed as if the cabin had been packed as full as it could, the train would make another stop and few would leave in comparison to those who got on. It was nearing the end of the work day and people were making their way home to the city outskirts, or in Lindsey and Wyatt’s case, the suburbs.
The two cousins stood facing one another and the train continued to plow forward stopping every few minutes to exchange passengers. A man bumped Lindsey and shoved her in to Wyatt, who grabbed her to keep her from toppling. She immediately pulled herself away and apologized. It was at that point that Wyatt began to realize that the feelings he had thought she had displayed on the veranda were false. Lindsey wasn’t interested in him, and he was relieved.
The trip back to Kenilworth (the suburb they lived in) was the end of the line for the “L” and by the time they had arrived at their stop, the train was much less crowded. About half way there they had grabbed a seat from a group of people that had hurriedly exited the train.
Wyatt thought about the day they had shared. It was nice and it suddenly hit Wyatt that this was the kind of day you were supposed to have on vacation. He knew that the rest of his time here in Chicago was likely to be uneventful, but he was glad he had one day that he could look back at and remember fondly. Now he figured he just needed to put in the rest of his time, which shouldn’t be a problem now that Lindsey was not the problem he originally concerned himself with.
The trained screeched to a halt at the Kenilworth station and the two of them, along with a few dozen others exited the car and made their way through the station and out into the afternoon sun. When they had left to go downtown Lindsey’s mom had dropped them off at the station and planned on picking them up at five thirty when they got back.
Wyatt wasn’t surprised when he didn’t see the car, having enjoyed the wait at the airport weeks earlier. The two of them plopped down beside one another on a dark green bench in the shade outside of the station. It had cooled slightly, but was still baking in the sun and the shaded spot felt good.
It wasn’t long before Wyatt spotted a black and white patrol car pulling into the station parking lot, making its way to the front of the building. It pulled up in front of the two of them and the officer rolled down his window.
“Are you Wyatt Klinker and Lindsey Morgan?” he asked them to their surprise.
“Yeah, we are,” Lindsey answered, leaning forward, “is something wrong?”
“I need you both to get in. I’m supposed to take you home,” he told them, a bit of tension in his voice.
“What’s wrong?” listened asked, a hint of panic in her voice.
“Just get in, please. We’ll talk about it once we get you home. The back door is unlocked.”
“Is my mom okay? Is she hurt?” Lindsey was beginning to lose control.
The officer turned around as they slid into the cool interior of the cruiser, “I’m Officer York, and you’ve got to calm down. Your mom is okay. We’ll discuss this once we get you two home.”
Wyatt knew that something had happened and he immediately felt bad for Lindsey. She really cared for her dad, though he never seemed to offer her any attention. Wyatt allowed a hundred different scenarios to play through his head though he figured it was going to be a lot less traumatic that what Lindsey was figuring. Uncle Rich had probably been pulled over for drunk driving or something and Lindsey’s mom had gone down to bail him out. He figured that once she realized Lindsey was sitting at the train station waiting for her she had asked the police to send someone to pick them up.
The trip back to the house was a short ten minutes, but to Lindsey it seemed like an eternity. As they pulled up to the house they saw another police cruiser as well as both Carla’s Lexus and Rich’s BMW in the driveway.
“Well,” thought Wyatt, “it wasn’t a DUI otherwise they would have impounded Uncle Rich’s Beemer.” Now Wyatt was even more curious.
The officer turned to them, “Officer Rawlings is inside with your parents. He’ll explain everything.”
The officer got out of the car and opened the back door for them so they could slide out. He held the door as they both turned to thank them and Wyatt was sure he saw remorse in the young policeman’s eyes.
“You two take care of yourselves,:” he said as he got back behind the wheel of his car before backing out and driving away.
“I wonder what that is all about,” Wyatt asked Lindsey as they made their way through the garage and in through the kitchen door.
They found Rich and Carla in the den with who they assumed to be Officer Rawlings. He was an older, heavy set man with white hair. His cheeks and nose were bright red, as if he had recently been exerting himself.
Lindsey ran to her mom and dad who stood up and wrapped their arms around her.
“Oh my god!” the young woman exclaimed, “I thought something had happened to you!”
Both Rich and Carla had grim looks on their faces, and when Rich opened his arm up and offered Wyatt an embrace, he knew something terrible had happened.
Wyatt didn’t move as he turned to look at the officer, “What?” he asked, “tell me.”
“Wyatt, I’m Officer Rawlings, and I’m afraid I’ve got some terrible news regarding your parents.”

July 6th - Dear Starlog

I don’t have a lot of details, but I know that my parents died when the tour bus they were riding on overturned and rolled approximately five hundreds yards down an extremely steep embankment in a rural part of southern France. In addition to them, thirty-seven other people, including the driver, died. There is a forthcoming investigation but initial reports say that mechanical failure was the likely cause.
I don’t know what to think right now. It seems very unreal to me. My uncle was pretty shook up, seeing as it was his sister that had died as well. After the officer had told me he asked if I was alright. What kind of question is that? I really didn’t know how to answer it. If I said “yes” it was a lie. How the hell could I be alright, my parents had just died in a freaking bus crash? If I answered “no” they would think I was losing it.
I’m sad that my folks died, I really am. My dad was a good guy and my mom, though psycho at times, was a decent enough lady. I know they loved me, and I loved them too. Sure, we didn’t have the greatest relationship and we weren’t incredibly close, but they were my parents and I like to think they did a pretty good job raising me. It’s not like I’m a crack head or anything like that.
What do you use to grade the success of a parent? The more I think about it the more I realize how ambiguous the whole “good parent, bad parent” thing is. I once heard that Jeffrey Dahlmer’s parents were good people. Did they do something that someone didn’t know about that was the biggest sin of parenting?
My parents fed me, they gave me a place to sleep, and they took care of me when I was sick. They would talk to me, and took interest in my grades. My dad would come watch me play little league baseball and would even play catch with me when I was younger.
My mom helped me with homework and did my laundry and put band-aids on my knees when I was a kid. She told me she loved me, at least she did when I was little. I can remember that. I got spankings from both parents when I was little and did something wrong but they never really hurt me or anything like that.
The more I think about the more I realize that my parents, if anything, were normal. They didn’t do anything crazy other than be possessive of the remote control and lounge chair and have an off limits living room in our house.
Maybe it’s me? Maybe if another kid had been born instead of me, that kid would have turned out differently. Maybe I’m who I am much to the conflicting efforts of my parents. I wonder if they ever thought, “I wonder why Wyatt isn’t how we want him to be, are we doing something wrong?”
The more I think about it, the more I realize that there is something seriously wrong with me. Here it is, less than twenty-four hours since I learned my parents were killed in a horrible bus accident and I can’t think of anything but myself. Why aren’t I sadder than what I am? The truth right now is that I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m going to do. My parents are dead, I’m eighteen years old, and I’m completely clueless about what comes next.

The Enviable Life of Wyatt Klinker Section 2

2008-11-11T13:40:00.002-05:00

Well, here is the next installment of my story. It shouldn't be as long as the last one (sorry about that). For those of you who are wondering how my progress is coming, the first section you read was about 5000 words. I've been writing since then and as of right now I sit at about 14700 words. That's about 1700 words more than I was able to write last year, so I've already set a new personal record.

I've had a couple people ask me about my story and I wanted to clear them up and maybe give you an idea of my thought processes.

1st, no, I am not Wyatt Klinker. There may be a couple of similarities, but he is a simple work of fiction (per the rules of Nanowrimo). There may be things from my past which I pull from to help me visualize Wyatt but he is not me. You'll see more of that as the story progresses because believe me, we've lived quite different lives.

2nd, my story has no ending, yet. I got the idea to write about Wyatt at about 10:00pm on Halloween night. For some reason the name Klinker came into my mind. I then attached the first name Wyatt to it. Orignally the story was going to be called The Many Homes of Wyatt Kilnker but I didn't care for that. I've thought a lot about the story and have a general idea of where Wyatt is going, but I don't really yet know how it will end.

3rd, I have no outline. Everything I've written has come from me sitting as my keyboard and typing. I have four events that are in my head with smaller sub-events occurring around them, but that is it for an outline. I work best on the fly and am not going to change that for this book.

4th, typing out 1667 words a day is hard. You would think that weekends would be a good time to write. Well, if this past weekend was any indication then they are not. I fell behind by about 6000-7000 words this past weekend. I've caught up a bit and am now only 3700 words behind schedule (I should be at 18,337 by day's end). I figure I'll write a bit more here at work today and then if things go as I hope, spit out another hour worth of writing tonight at home. I'm on a bit of a roll with Wyatt and I want to capitalize on my energy.

5th, I have no ambition to have this thing published. First off, I don't think it is the best writing I've ever done. Furthermore I don't particularly feel that I am a polished writer. What I do know is that I want to know that I can, and have written a novel length book. This equates to about a 175 page paperback when finished, so I feel as if I will have accomplished that should I complete Nano. There is one bit of good news though. For completing (and thus winning the Nano challenge, an online printing company will print and bind one free copy of my book. That should be cool.

Well, that answers a few questions. If there are anymore, please ask and maybe I'll answer them with my next installment. With that said, here is the second section of my book:

June 25 - Dear Starlog

Lindsey won’t talk to me and truthfully that’s all fine with me. I’m really beginning to believe that the whole thing that happened the other day, with Lindsey looking at me and all was completely in my head. Sometimes I think way too much into things. I think she was just pissed at her dad. Maybe it was just hopeful thinking. I’ve had a girlfriend and all, well, not a real girlfriend, but a girl who I went out with for a short time in eighth grade. Her name was Caroline. We started going out at a dance we had and kinda were together for about a month or so. She was okay.

I can’t really picture Lindsey liking me (I can’t believe I’m writing about my cousin like this). She’s pretty cute and really I’m not much of anything. That’s okay with me. It really is. I don’t have self esteem issues or anything. I’ve just never really cared all that much about going out with girls. Sure, it would be cool but I certainly don’t base my life around the whole deal. If Lindsey did like me I really wouldn’t understand it. She told me she had a boyfriend but they broke up back in April so I know it isn’t like she can’t find anyone.

I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this. It doesn’t really matter. I am going to try to talk to her because I don’t want her mad at me seeing as I’m going to be here another three weeks and she is the only one in the whole state of Illinois that has even threatened to have a conversation with me. Besides, I’m not being true to myself if I let her control me. Not talking to one another is her idea and frankly, I’m just allowing it to happen because of this funky feeling that doesn’t really even exist. I need to get over the fact. She has no interest in me and I really should be happy about it. What would everyone think if they thought I had the hots for my cousin? I certainly don’t want to deal with it.

Of course it isn’t really like I even know her. I think I’ve probably only spent about two weeks with her over my entire life, including this week. She has come out to Boston once or twice and stayed with my folks with her family, but that was quite some time ago. We hung out then, but we were a lot younger and being an only child, I never had anyone to hang out with. Whatever. I’ve got to just drop it and quit thinking about it.

I’m kind missing my folks. Well, not really my folks, but my life that I’ve become accustomed to. I’ve never really spent a lot of time away from Boston and I’m learning that it sucks pretty bad. I really miss my friends, though I guess I didn’t even talk to them before I left on my great Chicago excursion. You know, the more I think about it, the more I fail to understand what I really do miss about home. I mean, I have my room at home, but there really isn’t any more their than what I have here. Sure, my books are there and I can always walk down to the gas station for a pop if I get bored, but overall it’s the same. I suppose I just need to keep things in perspective. Things aren’t really that bad and this place isn’t that different than my regular life. Okay, maybe I lied. Wow, my life kinda sucks.

CHAPTER 3: CHAYA

Chaya slumped down on the recliner and flipped on the television in the den. It was Saturday, and she had been working every day for two weeks. Normally she got Saturday and Sunday off, but Mrs. Morgan had asked her to work again. There really wasn’t anything to do, but Carla Morgan had wanted her there to keep an eye on things in case their visitor, Mr. Klinker from Boston, didn’t get into any trouble. The one thing Chaya realized was that Mrs. Morgan wasn’t going to sacrifice her afternoons to baby-sit her nephew. It was okay with Chaya though. She was getting double time and she and her family could use the money.
She heard footsteps in the kitchen and looked over her shoulder, seeing the Morgan’s house guest rummaging around in the refrigerator. She stopped slouching and straightened up in the chair. Sure, she didn’t answer to the boy in the kitchen and Mrs. Morgan was away but she still felt guilty getting caught sitting around when she was getting paid to work.
Wyatt walked in a flopped down on the leather couch, propping his feet up on the glass of the coffee table, “What’s up?” he asked as he bit into a hastily built bologna sandwich.
“Mr. Klinker, pardon me, but I just cleaned that table and I don’t think Mrs. Morgan would be happy with your feet on it,” Chaya replied, lying about the table and Carla’s reaction.
“When is ‘Mrs. Morgan’ ever happy?” he returned through a full mouth.
This caused Chaya’s mouth to curl up in a smile. Immediately however, she changed her expression, appearing stoic and irritated. “Mrs. Morgan has rules against putting your feet on the furniture. Besides, I don’t want to have to wipe the smudges off of it again. I just cleaned it.”
Wyatt put his feet on the floor drawing a “Thank you” from the housekeeper.
“Do you like working for my Aunt Carla,” he asked her, leaning forward a bit while taking another bite from his sandwich.
“She is very good to work for. Of…of course I like working for her,” she replied with a less than convincing answer.
Wyatt laughed out loud, leading Chaya to stare at him.
“What is so funny,” she asked, becoming irritated by the teen.
“I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoying working for my aunt. Hell, I can’t even stand being around her. I can’t believe anyone would enjoy working for her. You must be some kind of saint or something,” he replied.
Chaya felt a bit embarrassed by the accusation, mostly because it really hit home, “It isn’t easy to find a job,” she explained. “I’ve got three kids that I’ve got to take care of and your aunt pays me decently. There are better jobs, but I’ve not found one yet. She’s isn’t that bad…”
Immediately Wyatt looked at her with that ‘you’re lying to me again’ look and Chaya back tracked, “Well, she’s very strict, but she’s the boss and I guess you have to be…”
“Bullshit,” Wyatt interrupted with a laugh. “My aunt treats everyone like they are beneath her. She does it to me and I bet she does it to you. You mean absolutely nothing to her or this family.”
Chaya looked down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap. What could she say? The boy sitting next to her was completely right. She glanced up but didn’t say anything. Wyatt just stared into her eyes and she once again dropped them to avoid his gaze. She could feel tears starting to well up. She felt humiliated.
She was able to choke out a question, “Why are you saying this to me?”
“Because this is all a load of crap and you shouldn’t have to put up with it, no one should. Lindsey says you have what, three kids?”
She nodded.
“Well why aren’t you spending today with them? It’s a beautiful Saturday and you are stuck here with me. There isn’t anything to do here, the house is spotless. You and I both know that the only reason you are here is that my Aunt Carla wants you to keep and eye on me. Tell me I’m not right?” he pressed.
“You’re right, she admitted. “But I need the money, and Mrs. Morgan does pay me overtime. These is easy money, my kids are okay.”
“Whatever,” Wyatt pressed. “I’m sure they don’t mind you being gone all week and then going to work again on Saturday and Sunday.”
“Well, what do you expect me to do? I can’t bring them here?” she justified.
“Why not? My uncle has a big pool in back, a huge lawn they could play in. It seems to me that you have every right considering you are stuck babysitting me. You might as well watch your own kids as well,” Wyatt continued. “Besides, you could always tell my aunt that you CAN’T work for her unless she’s lets you bring them.”
Chaya considered this for a moment, but before answering Wyatt cut in again, “Just tell her you don’t have a sitter. Tell her you have to bring them in or you can’t work. You think she’s going to let me stay here by myself? There’s no way. She doesn’t trust me.”
“I don’t know,” the housekeeper replied, though Wyatt could feel her cracking.
“You bring your kids in and there is no way in hell my aunt is going to be anywhere near this place. Chances are she would be gone long before you even got here. Come on Chaya. Stand up for yourself and quit letting that old bitch control you,” Wyatt allowed his voice to rise, trying to inspire the young Hispanic woman.
“Why do you care about me and my kids?” she asked him.
“Don’t change the subject Chaya. Are you going to bring them?” he retorted.
“Tell me, Mr. Klinker. Why does it matter if I bring them here or not?” she pressed.
Wyatt looked at her, his blue eyes staring into hers. He was testing her. If she broke eye contact he knew that she would give up on asking. He held her gaze and after a good fifteen seconds she continued to stare into his. She was strong when she wanted to be. He allowed himself to relax and took a deep breath.
“I’m lonely. I hate it here. I don’t fit in with Aunt Carla and Uncle Rich.”
“But what about Lindsey, she’s about your age. Why don’t you hang out with her?” she asked.
“Lindsey is stuck up and snobbish,” he snapped back quickly, as if anticipating the question.
“No she’s not, she’s nice. She’s the only one that will talk to me. You should ask her to do something with you, she would probably enjoy that. She’s here a lot more this summer than she was last year.”
“Listen, I just don’t like her,” Wyatt was visually uncomfortable. “Okay, just drop it.”
“Okay, but I don’t know why you just don’t try to like her. She’s a sweet girl,” she stopped when he glared at her. “So why don’t you go out and do something if you are bored?”
“I’m not bored; I’m just tired of being here by myself. I like being around people, but I don’t know anyone and I’m not entirely comfortable running around Chicago by myself.”
“Chicago isn’t a bad town, you’d be okay. You should try going down to Navy Pier,” she offered.
Wyatt was tired of the focus being on him. He was never comfortable with it, “Maybe sometime, but right now why don’t you just bring your kids over and see how it goes? You know you like the idea. Besides, I’d love to meet them.”
“Okay, I’ll ask her, but you’ve got to promise me that you’ll ask Lindsey to take you out to see the city before you go. Okay?”
Wyatt considered. He was only here for another couple of weeks and it was possible his time would run out before he had to make good on his promise.
“Okay,” he said, seemingly giving in to her request, “it’s a deal.”

July 3rd - Dear Starlog:

Chaya brought her three kids over yesterday. It was pretty cool. Her son, Eduardo is a pretty cool kid. He’s only eight but he acts a lot older. I was nice to actually have someone to hang out with. Her two little girls were pretty nice too. I think Sophia is six and Josephina is four or five.

Aunt Carla was not real happy when Chaya asked her if she could bring her kids over. She walked around here grumbling for two days before finally agreeing. I know she spent at least an hour calling around trying to find someone to come over here. I have no idea why she doesn’t trust me. I think it is a bit of a paranoia complex. It’s not like I stole her mother’s fine china or anything. Hell, I hardly know the lady and she thinks I’m a parolee or something.

Anyway, Chaya brought her kids over at about nine o’clock. I could have sworn Aunt Carla was in the garage waiting for her to pull up so she could immediately race off to where ever she goes to on weekends. It’s pretty sad if you really think about it.

Chaya and I have been talking a lot and she has really loosened up a bit. Yesterday she sat out on the veranda with me as we watched the kids swim. I guess she’s a single mom. Her husband left her about a year ago and she really hasn’t heard from him. She guesses he probably went back to Mexico or was deported. It’s sad to think that he just left his kids here without regard to them. Funny, that’s exactly what my parents did to me, though I suppose being eight and being eighteen are two completely different things. Besides, in two weeks I get to head back to Boston and all this will be behind me.

I wonder what he is like. I can’t really picture Chaya with anyone. I mean she’s cool and everything, but she seems so busy with her work here and her kids. I can’t imagine her going home to a husband.

I was surprises when she told me she was only twenty-seven. I hate to say it but I thought she was older than that. I mean she’s not bad looking, maybe a little chunky, but not ugly at all. She just looks older than twenty-seven. I guess people have said I look a lot younger than eighteen. Appearance is a strange thing.

Chaya asked me again today if I had asked Lindsey to take me into the city. I told her no because I haven’t, and I don’t plan on asking her. I’m just not comfortable around her. That day a week ago really freaked me out and I hate being out of control. I’m probably just crazy, but I’d just as soon play it safe.

Chaya lives on the south side of the city. She says it’s not that nice, but the rent is a lot cheaper. It makes me sick to see someone like her struggling while my aunt just seemingly takes everything for granted. This world is one strange place. I wonder if my aunt was like this when she was younger or if my uncle’s money made her this way. Lindsey doesn’t seem like her. I hope she doesn’t evolve into a she-bitch like her. That would be sad.

Nanowrimo Submission

2008-11-05T14:23:00.002-05:00

Okay, here is my first submission for Nanowrimo. I'm a total of 5006 words in. As of this moment I am 3329 words behind (mostly because of not writing yesterday due to watching the elections from 6:00pm to 12:30am). I intend on getting some writing done tonight and again tomorrow. The weekend will be used for catchup and hopefully getting ahead. I want to stay the course otherwise I will not be successful at getting my 50,000 words. The quality of the story probably isn't where I want it to be, but I don't really care. Nano is about getting words to paper. That's what I intend to do. So, without further avail, I roll out my story...

The Enviable Life of Wyatt Klinker

May 9 - Dear Starlog:

I never really know how to start these diary pages. I think it sounds kinda girlish to write “dear diary”. T-Harv, my English teacher in 10th grade (oh, that’s Mr. Harvey by the way) started us writing daily journals and while I wasn’t much for that back then, I think I’m going to give it a try again. I graduate in a month or so and I thought it would be a good idea to get some of my thoughts down. It seems like the year is going by so fast, and while I’m not a big fan of high school, I would like to have some memories jotted down so I can look back one day and see what all this “I wish I was your age” crap my parents have been feeding me is all about.

Oh, my parents. What can I say? They are okay. I think a lot of times they don’t even see that I’m here, but you know, that’s all good with me. Most of the time I would rather they not be around. They told me the other day that they had a surprise for my graduation. They were buying me a plane ticket to go to Chicago to stay with my uncle for a month or so during the summer. They tell me that I will love the big city and that I need to see more of the world and that this is a great opportunity and that Uncle Rich is a great guy and Aunt Carla is really looking forward to seeing me. Happy graduation they tell me.

Wow, great opportunity, right? Not really. Turns out Mom and Dad are going to Europe for three weeks. My guess is that they don’t really trust me enough for me to stay home by myself while they are gone.

My parents are really possessive. We have whole rooms in my house that I’ve never actually been in. Well, I guess I’ve been in them but as far as being functional, they don’t really have a use. The “living room” is about as dead as a room can be. It is the pace where the nicest furniture goes. It’s the place where we keep the piano, and a nice silver candelabra that has never actually ever been introduced to a burning candle. The carpet is white, and I mean white. Mom intends to keep it that way. Dad doesn’t care as long as he has his big screen TV and I completely ignore the place.

It’s like that in my house. Dad sits in HIS chair, clutching HIS remote. Mom has HER living room, and HER sewing stuff (I learned all about that when I tried to cut up some cardboard with a pair of her scissors). I have MY room, with all ITS rules and regulations placed upon me by my parents. Make your bed. Pick up your clothes. Vacuum your carpet. Dust your dresser. Take those posters off the wall you’re going to scar the drywall with your poster putty. Funny how my space comes with rules governing my behavior while their spaces come with rules governing, well, my behavior.

I can’t wait for graduation.

CHAPTER 1: CHICAGO

With his hand tightly gripping the armrest of seat 32A, Wyatt felt the plane’s tire absorb the bounce of the runway as they touched down at O’Hare airport in Chicago. An audible exhale came from many of the less seasoned flyers and those who were not big fans of flight (including Wyatt) as they began to coast to a stop in front of the terminal.
Immediately the click of seatbelts filled the air as bustling travelers unclicked their belts, stood and began pulling over-stuffed carry-on bags out of the overhead compartments.
Wyatt felt the pressure of a man’s pelvis pressing against his shoulder the guy stretched forward to reach his briefcase shoved back in the recesses of the compartment.
“Welcome to Chicago, Wyatt. Would you mind if I drape my junk over your shoulder?” Wyatt could imagine the man thinking.
“How freaking ridiculous is this? They should make these asses go back to kindergarten and learn about taking their turns,” he thought and he slowly leaned to his left, separating himself from the man’s groin.
Luckily the seat to his left had been empty; otherwise Wyatt would have been cozying up to who knows who.
“Will this freaking guy hurry up,” he thought as the arm rest dug into his side, making him more uncomfortable by the second.
Finally the briefcase came free and the man hurried off down the aisle of the plane, shoving his way past others who continued to struggle with their baggage.
“Well, there’s no sense in hurrying, I’m sure my uncle isn’t all that excited to see me. At least he isn’t if he shares the same sentiment as I do.” Thinking this, Wyatt did the only thing he could think of, he simply sat there, watching as everyone struggled to exit the plane, seemingly at the same time.
After a few minutes it actually became quite humorous. More than once a person shoved past another, causing one to lose balance and fall into the lap of another completely innocent passenger. The image of rats trying to escape a sinking ship crossed his mind. It was pretty entertaining.
It took about fifteen minutes for the plane to completely clear, leaving Wyatt and the flight crew as the only occupants of the deserted cabin. Standing up Wyatt caught sight of one of the flight attendants. A look of impatience appeared on her face. It was clear to him that these people were not only aware of the chaos that ensued at the gate, but welcomed it, for it meant that they too could escape the cabin and free themselves of the oppressive confines of the coach cabin. Wyatt was the last participant of the lemming like departure and the denizens of the air who made their living flying from one city to another were impatient to be rid of them. All of them.
Wyatt took his time removing his carry-on bag, whistling a titleless tune to himself, taking care to look up and smile at the flight attendant every few seconds. He knew what she was thinking and after being powerless for the last four hours he was reveling in this new found control.
It took him a few minutes to get his bag down, check the back of his seat to assure he hadn’t left anything there, retie his shoe, tuck his shirt in and comb his fingers through his hair before he figured there wasn’t anything left to do that could stall his departure. With a smile he made his way to the exit, and even when he caught the slight rolling of the flight attendants eyes, he didn’t allow for the smile to fade.
“You know, you folks really do have a great job,” he said to the woman standing at the exit.
“It’s not too bad,” she replied, allowing her impatience to show in her tone.
“Yeah,” he said with a wink, “all you have to do is sit around flying back and forth, must be great doing nothing and get paid for it.”
He didn’t hesitate to hear what she had to say, instead, he just walked past, leaving her behind to digest his words.

If the plane was chaotic, the terminal was insanity. A seemingly endless wave of people pushed past one another, scurrying for whatever part of the airport they needed to get to. Again, Wyatt gave way to them, moving as close to the wall as he could to get out of the main flow of human traffic.
Glancing at the digital readout on his Burger King watch (Wyatt had refused to wear the nice Casio his parents had given him for Christmas instead relying on the less than accurate treasure he picked up in a happy meal). It was now 3:30 local time and he knew his flight had been right on time. He wondered to himself how often that actually happened.
Uncle Rich knew Wyatt’s flight was supposed to land around 3:30 and had told his dad that he would meet him at the entrance to the terminal. The teen figured that was cool, and even though he hadn’t seen him in about five years, was sure he would be easy to recognize with his V-neck sweater with a white t-shirt underneath. Uncle Rich was pretty predictable. As far back as Wyatt could remember he had worn those ugly sweaters. Even in the summer his clothes failed to change. The only thing that ever really fluctuated was the length of the sleeves. In the summer it was a sweater vest. In the winter, long sleeves pushed up to the elbow. In the spring and fall, short sleeves.
Failing to see a sweater vest that he recognized, Wyatt went and retrieved his luggage from baggage claim. He didn’t begin to worry in the least when he noted that it was past four. Most times he was very cognizant of being where he was supposed to be on time, but the rules of the airport spit in the face of normalcy and he guessed that explaining his absenteeism to his uncle would be pretty easy.
After retrieving his oversized duffle bag (it had actually been an old hockey equipment bag he had found and picked up at a thrift store), he made his way back to the entrance of the terminal and with a bit of displeasure at seeing no one waiting there for him, found himself a place to sit and wait.
“Well this kinda blows,” he said aloud to himself. “Hell, if I’da known he was going to be late I woulda hung out on the plane a little longer.”
The blue bench that he sat on was actually a series of egg shell like chairs, bolted together to form a series of seats. Wyatt assumed that was to keep people from using the area as a bed, as he imagined it would be extremely uncomfortable to try to lie across them.
Now he found himself slumped down on one of these chairs, his feet splayed out in front of him. He ignored the looks he got from people who had to either steer around or step over his extended legs. Occasionally he would salute people who looked exceptionally put out, but most times he would simply smile at them.
Wyatt cared what people thought of him. He had spent so many years of his life trying to please everyone. It wasn’t until he figured out that this was an impossibility that he started doing things to invite reaction from people. It used to be that he did things to please people, but he found it was quite different to try to elicit different kinds of reactions. Sometimes he tried to surprise people, other times he tried to anger them, just to see how they would react. He never did anything malicious, he wasn’t a bully, he just figured he was a student of human behavior. Some people went to the mall to people watch; Wyatt went out of his way to try to draw a reaction from those same people.
People were funny animals. It was pretty amazing how they had the tendency to lose control of themselves, even while pretending to be in complete accordance with accepted behavior. Wyatt’s friend Steve had taught him that lesson. Steve had cerebral palsy and had met Wyatt when they were both eight years old. Wyatt had first seen Steve in his wheel chair at a park, sitting in the sun watching the other kids play on the playground equipment. Wyatt didn’t know better and just stood there staring at the other boy, twisted and bent in his red chair. Steve was peculiar to him and Wyatt couldn’t take his eyes off of him.
I woman beside the crippled boy called Wyatt over, “Hey, you. Yeah, you in the blue t-shirt, come here for a second.”
Wyatt had held his ground, not knowing what to think.
“Could you come here please, I need your help,” she repeated, motioning to him.
Wyatt, ever to be one to please others slowly shuffled over to the woman.
“What’s your name,” she asked when he finally got within arm’s length.
“Wyatt,” he replied, stealing glances at the disfigured boy beside her.
“Well Wyatt, I’m Charlene and this is my son Steve,” she stated, pointing to the boy in the wheel chair. “I saw you staring at us. You know it’s not nice to stare, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Wyatt looked away from both of them, ashamed to have been found breaking the rules. “I won’t do it again.”
“It’s okay, it just hurts Steve’s feelings when people do that.”
Wyatt’s mind was racing; he figured that the boy in the wheelchair was retarded or something. It had never occurred to him that he would be upset by people staring at him.
“Wyatt, I know what you’re thinking,” the woman said to him. “Steve is just like you and me. He is actually very smart, he just has a hard time communicating like you and I do. He’s a normal boy; he’s just stuck in the wheel chair.”
As if in confirmation, Steve raised his hand, waved and slurred, “Aaaiii.”
“He’s saying ‘Hi’ to you,” Charlene translated.
“Oh, hi,” Wyatt replied, somewhat amazed by his discovery, a smile creeping across his face.
After that, Steve and Wyatt had become fast friends and while it took awhile, Wyatt had learned to understand his friend’s garbled speech. Many years later, long after Wyatt had completely disregarded Steve’s disability, the two of them had went to an outdoor mall with Steve’s mom. As she shopped in one of the many upscale stores, the two friends sat out in the sun, beside a large fountain.
“See that lady over there,” Steve had pointed out to Wyatt. “Watch her.”
Out of the corner of his eye Wyatt watched the woman. While she was careful not to stare, it was quite evident that she was complete enraptured by the boy in the red wheel chair. She would steal glances at him and even had the nerve to point the crippled boy out to her friend who walked with her. Wyatt knew that she didn’t mean to be impolite, but the presence of Steve captivated her and she couldn’t help herself.
Later Steve had explained to him that he was used to that kind of stuff and that Wyatt had to be ready for it too. More than once during their friendship Wyatt had gotten upset at small children who had stared, or pointed and the disable youth. He had even more problems with adults who stared of mumble to their friends. One lady even told Wyatt how nice he was for pushing his retarded brother through the store one time. It had taken Steve more than a few minutes to calm his friend down when Wyatt yelled at the lady, drawing the attention of more than a few store patrons.
Yet these many times with Steve had taught Wyatt a great deal about people. Steve had constantly said, “Wyatt, they can’t help it.” It had taken Wyatt a long time to accept this fact. That’s when Wyatt started doing things to elicit reaction from people, and that why even with people grumbling as they step around him, Wyatt never even thought about moving his legs out of the aisle way.

June 19 - Dear Starlog

Yesterday’s trip into Chicago was all kinds of fun. I ended up sitting at the airport until well after 8:00pm because Uncle Rich decided to play golf with some guys from work and completely forgot about picking me up. Aunt Carla ended up picking me up and let me tell you, Mom may have said she was looking forward to seeing me, but based on her reaction when she finally found me I would beg to differ. I couldn’t tell if she was mad at me, or at Uncle Rich for forgetting about me. My cousin Lindsey came with her and told me as we were walking through the airport that she was supposed to get her nails done but instead had to come get me after Uncle Rich called and told her that he was going to be home late because he was still at the country club. Makes me feel really good about being in Chicago. My uncle is playing golf and my aunt is making nail appointments while I’m sitting in the biggest airport in the world doing absolutely nothing. What a great graduation gift. I have to make sure to let Mom and Dad know how wonderful everything is starting.

Not everything is that bad though. My room here at the palace is pretty nice (I call it the palace because it seems Uncle Rich does pretty well with the business that he owns). In fact, the whole house is nice. Aunt Carla has a living room as well (although she calls it the sitting room yet no one ever sits in there. Maybe I’ll suggest to mom that we start calling her no enter zone a sitting room too).

Anyway, they stuck me in what’s called an “extra room” over the garage. They moved a bed in there for me and I’ve got a foot locker to put all my stuff in so it isn’t too terribly bad. There are a series of three big windows on both sides of the room looking out over the driveway in the front and the big backyard and pool in the back. It’s a pretty good view. Uncle Rich was using the room as a work out area, so there are a bunch of weights and a punching bag he has hanging in the corner. He also has a big 36” television hanging on the wall. I’m pretty happy about that.

Uncle Rich suggested putting me in the guest bedroom but Aunt Carla told him no. She said I would like it much better in the extra room. I think she just didn’t want me in that room. It has a nice frilly bedspread and a four post bed and I think she didn’t feel I was worthy of sleep in such a nice area. Uncle Rich didn’t care, he just wanted access to his weight room. Frankly I’m happy where I’m at. It is at the other end of the house from everyone else and I figure I can escape here whenever I need to get away, which I’m figuring is quite often.

Lindsey is pretty cool. Actually, Lindsey has completely changed since the last time I saw her. When they came out to visit us in Boston she was pretty much a little geek. Of course she was only eleven back then. She had just gotten braces on her teeth and wore some funky looking pink rimmed glasses. She doesn’t have braces anymore and she lost the glasses. I tell you, she’s still a geek, but there is something about her. She’s kinda cute in a weird way. Anyway, she at least talks to me. I get the feeling that I’m not really welcome, but hey, I should have known that coming in. I don’t mind being shipped off to a place I’m not wanted, at least the expectations of me won’t be that high.

I haven’t done much today being Sunday. Uncle Rich is out playing golf (again) and Aunt Carla is out shopping. I guess Sunday is shopping day. Lindsey went with her and I’m stuck here with the housekeeper (who normally doesn’t work on Sundays) but Aunt Carla asked her to come by today to “tidy up”. My guess is that they don’t trust me here alone. At least they didn’t ship me off to my mom’s other brother in New Jersey until they got back.

CHAPTER 2: LINDSEY

It was apparent after a short time that while Wyatt was a guest of his aunt and uncle, they were not going to go out of their way to ensure that he had a good time while in Chicago. Most of his days were spent in the room above the garage, watching television, reading or simply sitting around doing nothing.
During the week everyone scurried through their various activities. Wyatt’s Uncle Rich would leave for work around 7:30 and not get home until late in the evening, typically spending a good deal of time in the late afternoon at the golf course. At least once a week he would go out of time for the evening, checking on one of his out of town offices.
Aunt Carla was rarely home. Wyatt didn’t really know what she did with her time, but figured it involved her nails, hair or feet because she always seemed to have a spa appointment. On occasion she would have ladies from the country club over for lunch, which usually meant that Wyatt either had to go find something to do or stay in the “extra room” until everyone was gone. Again, this didn’t bother Wyatt much. He really didn’t want anything to do with either Carla or Rich.
On this particular day his aunt had some errands to run and had left around 10:00am leaving Wyatt at home with Lindsey and Chaya, the housekeeper (who was happily picking up quite a few overtime hours with the extra time she was spending at work over the weekends (on babysitting duty as Wyatt called it).
Lindsey typically went with her mom but today she decided to stick around the house. It seemed her friend Shelly was coming to pick her up and take her to some movie the two wanted to see.
Wyatt decided he was tired of sitting in the ER (or the “extra room” as he called it) and decided he would take a dip in the pool. It had been exceptionally hot all week and he was bored.
The pool was oval shaped and surrounded by chase loungers. One end, closest to the house, had a patio with a slatted veranda that offered some shade from the Midwestern sun. Wyatt figured he would just hang out here all day. While Aunt Carla was anal about certain things, she was pretty open about others and Wyatt was comfortable raiding the refrigerator. Uncle Rich had even told him that he was welcome to a beer or two, as long as he stayed at the house and didn’t have anybody.
This, of course, struck Wyatt as a bit odd. First off, where the hell did Uncle Rich think he was going to go? Secondly, and even more ridiculous, who the hell did he think he was going to invite over. It wasn’t like he had friends calling on him here in Chicago. Wyatt seriously doubted any of his friends would be flying a thousand miles to come and visit him just to drink his uncle’s Budweiser. Wyatt was tempted to point this out to his uncle, but decided against it.
Wyatt grabbed a silver serving tray out of the cabinet and loaded it up with lunch meat, bread, cheese, chips, grapes, and other food from the fridge. There was no way he was going to eat it all but figured he would just waste the afternoon away snaking on it out by the pool. After taking the tray of food out to the veranda her returned and grabbed two beers, sticking one in an ice bucket to keep it cold.
Wyatt had never actually drank beer, but figured he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity if it was offered to him. Besides, his vacation hadn’t seen much adventure. He figured that drinking his first can of beer might end up being the highlight of this whole trip.
Taking the beers out to the pool he opened and took a long pull on the can. It had a terrible after taste, but in the heat of the day he figured that he could get used to the taste. Besides, it was beer. He figured it would be an acquired taste and today, under the veranda, he had decided he was going to start acquiring it.
After eating a sandwich and finishing his first beer Wyatt got up, pulled off his t-shirt and went to get in the pool. The water was cool and took his breath away when he first dove in. Wyatt had always been a decent swimmer and enjoyed the water. He was swimming laps back in forth and never noticed Lindsey come out. When he stopped and looked over at the veranda Lindsey was sitting at the table drinking the other can of beer Wyatt had iced down.
“Hey, you shouldn’t be drinking that,” he called out to her.
“Why? You’re not twenty-one either!” She called back, a smirk crossing her face.
“That’s not what I meant. You’re dad didn’t say you could have that and I don’t want to get in trouble if he finds out.”
She flipped her hand as if to say who cares and took a long drink from the can.
“Come on Lindsey, you’re only sixteen. Knock it off,” Wyatt called out as he made his way to the ladder to climb out of the pool, intent on getting the alcohol away from her.
“This is ridiculous,” he thought. “Why in the hell is she doing this?”
As he approached her she turned, pulling the beer away from his outstretched hand, “Come on Linds, give it to me.”
“What’s it matter to you if I drink it, it’s not like you care. You just don’t want to get in trouble,” she barked at him.
“I care. Besides, I don’t want you to get in trouble either,” he pled, sticking his hand out again.
“Why would you give a shit about me? No one else seems to.”
Wyatt began to see a different problem arising from this. Lindsey was pissed off about something and Wyatt had a pretty good guess.
“It’s okay Lindsey. I care about you a lot. I don’t want you to get in trouble and there is no reason to be pissed off at me. I can tell you’re mad at your parents,” he wasn’t sure it was her mom or her dad, but he was sure it was one of them.
“I’m not mad at my mom,” she started.
“So, it’s you dad then, what did he do?”
“It’s not what he did, it’s what he doesn’t do. He’s never home. He doesn’t care about me, or mom, or anyone but himself. I’m tired of him promising to be home then not showing up until ten o’clock at night, drunk on his ass. He promised he would taking me shopping for cars for my sixteenth birthday and that was a month ago. He wasn’t even home for my party. It makes me sick that he doesn’t even bother to talk to me,” as she shouted tears welled in her eyes.
Wyatt wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “My parents are the same way. My dad rarely talks to me and when he does he’s normally yelling. My mom doesn’t care if I’m ever around, in fact, I think she would rather I not even exist. Why do you think they sent me here for a month, it’s to get rid of me.” Wyatt too was letting his anger show.
“I thought they went to Europe?” she asked, looking up at him.
“They did, but you would think that for my graduation they would do something more for me rather then sending me here. Not that being here with you is bad,” he added.
The look she gave him changed, and immediately Wyatt was uncomfortable. It was as if her eyes glazed over and she looked inside of him. It was not a look he was comfortable with coming from his cousin. In no way was Wyatt experienced in the ways of the world, but something inside of him made him cringe internally. He could only imagine her thoughts and it caused him to loosen his arms just moments ago holding her tight.
“I know Wyatt,” she proclaimed as she took his hand. “It is terrible how they treat us.”
Wyatt broke her stare at the same time removing his hand from hers. “Well,” he stuttered, “they all suck. But that doesn’t mean we should be drinking your dad’s beer. That’ll just piss them off more.”
He was at a complete loss for words. “Come on Lindsey, give me the beer, okay?”
She stared at him for a moment longer and the spell was seemingly broken. She flipped the beer can at him, the nearly full container sloshing the cold drink on his bare chest. “It tastes like crap anyway,” she admitted, getting up out of the chair and heading back inside.
Wyatt just stood there, the beer puddling at his feet. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he was afraid that his cousin had been looking at him as more than just his cousin. Strangely however, Wyatt wasn’t completely appalled, and that’s what bothered him the most.
He had never really dated anyone in school. Mostly it was because he stuck to himself. Some people thought he was weird and frankly he never really pursued any girls. This was really foreign territory for him. The one thing he did know was that he hoped he was wrong. Lindsey was attractive, and sweet, and truthfully had a very nice body, he had seen that when he looked out his window and saw her sunbathing by the pool. But she was his cousin, and he knew that it was creepy to even think about her as being anything more.

Happy Day, Sad Day

2008-11-05T14:05:00.003-05:00

Let's get the sad news out of the way first. One of my favorite authors, Michael Crichton passed away died yesterday. He was a phenomenal writer. If you have not read any of his stuff, you should. He was a great writer of what are called techno-thrillers. He was incredibly scientific in his books and led your imagination to wonder exactly what man could do if he tried.

I remember when I was reading Jurassic Park, arguably his most successful commercial book. It was incredibly in depth and thought provoking. The movie, like many, did it no justice as the complexities of the story didn't translate well. The same can be said of the book Timeline, which again was a fantastic story, but a film disaster. It seems Crichton suffered from the Stephen King effect: his books were never very good movies. The book Congo also rates up there as one of my favorites of all time. I loved the book but the bastardization of the movie by Hollywood made me sick. The same can be said for Sphere with Dustin Hoffman. When given creative rights to film, his stories did very well. Jurassic Park, while not as good as the book was still an exceptional movie. The same can be said for Twister (which he wrote) and the television series ER which he was crator/writer/executive producer.

A lot of people don't know that Crichton was also the author behind classics like The Great Train Robbery and The Andromeda Strain.

It is sad to lose someone who was so talented and so respected in literary circles. Personally I will miss him as an author. He was quite a talent.

On the good news front, I am proud to say that I was able to stay up until midnight last night and watch Barack Obama accept the title of President-elect of the United States. I am proud of the American people for looking past the genetic makeup of the man and accepting him for what he can bring the people of the country. He is an incredible man, and having listened to him in person, potentially a great leader.

I know there are still a lot of bitter Republicans out there. I hope they can see past the defeat they received in this election and don't let their bitterness cloud the potential successes of our new President. I hope that in four years, when the election rolls around again that President Obama is in a position where re-election in not a question, that his policies in such a short time have driven our nation into the future that is as fruitful and bright as any time in American history.

It is a good day.

Weekend Update

2008-11-03T09:53:00.002-05:00

Howdy on a Monday!

It was a pretty decent weekend, though extremely tiring. Angie and I were so whipped last night that we went to bed at quarter after nine. I was on my feet all day at the store and I had worn dress shoes, so my feet decided to completely quit working once I got home and my body was quick to follow. It was a pretty slow day at the store, but you could tell people are starting to gear up for the Christmas season as there was a lot of traffic and a lot of questions about "would you be here through Christmas" and all that noise. As it gets busier I think I am going to enjoy it a lot more. Once they get another person to work with me it will be even better as standing there with no one to talk to is pretty boring.

Friday night was Trick-or-Treating night. It was a beautiful night and the kids didn't even need coats. We went out with some friends in their housing addition and had a good time. Balin was able to put to practice his new words he's learned by saying "thank you" at least a million times. The two of them scored some good candy and now it is our task to keep them from eating it all over the next week. Balin is a candy-aholic and Grace is pretty bad as well.

Saturday was swim lesson day. I basically stayed at home with Balin. When Angie got home we went back out and shopped for shoes for Gracie and picked up a few things. Afterwards I took Gracie to visit a friend of mine I hadn't seen in awhile and then back home for some rest.

Sunday of course was work day, so I didn't do much. Ang and the kids went out to her folks' house and hung out there all day. Balin got to ride on the lawn tractor and really enjoyed that.

Overall it was a good weekend. I'm still a bit tired as both kids made appearances in our bedroom in the middle of the night. Grace was up at 2:30 with a sore throat and Bub crawled into bed with us after waking up crying at 4:45. I think both of them are fighting colds. I just hope I don't get it, though with my lack of rest recently I'm pretty susceptable right now.

I'm looking forward to election day tomorrow. Hopefull everything goes the way I hope it does. If not, it is going to be a long four years.

Well, that's a quick update. I'll be posting my first installment of my nanowrimo challenge a little bit later (hint: I'm already one day behind [boo, hiss]).

NaNoWriMo Book Title

2008-11-01T11:26:00.001-04:00

Okay, after way too long I finally have a plot and a title for my novel I'm going to work on for Nanowrimo. I'm not going to spoil it by giving you a plot synopsis considering I haven't even put a word to paper yet but I will tell you it is a dramatic sort of book (not a detective story or a fantasy novel) but is a realistic sort of story. I don't know why it came to me, but it did. After posting this I'm going to go right to my story and begin hammering out my first day's goal of 1667 words.

Oh, the title of my book?

Plain and simple:

The Enviable Life of Wyatt Klinker

Happy Halloween

2008-10-31T10:06:00.002-04:00

The last day of October is upon us. It seems like October flew by (like most months these days). Tonight I get to take the kids out trick-or-treating. Angie decided to go scrapbooking (seeing as she hasn't been in over a month and I had no problems offering to take the kids out. I think we will probably go out with some friends of ours then head back to their house to play for a bit. They have a little girl the same age as Gracie and she really has a good time playing with her.

Balin is dressing up like a pumpkin this year. Grace is dressing up as a witch (with pink hair no less). She was really excited when we bought her costume (even though I hated shelling out $20.00 for a stupid store bought costume. Gracie is at that age where she wants to be like all the other kids and while she would have taken a homemade costume, she is really happy about her witch outfit.

I think next year I'm going to dress Balin up like a wolf and Gracie, Angie and I like pigs. I think it would be funny trick-or-treating as a family dressed up like the characters from the Three Little Pigs. I think it's fun doing holidays as a family and I know Gracie likes it. Next year Balin will be mcuh more mature and will really start to enjoy stuff like Halloween.

My Nanowrimo project has really hit a snag. I talked to Mom last night and she suggested I write about myself. I even had a title picked out: 50,000 Words, Stories of My Life. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. It would be easy to write about myself as I've had all kinds of stuff go on in my life that I could waste time writing about.

Then I looked at the Nanowrimo rules. The work has to be fiction. Yup, not real life stuff. It has to be material that is original and all made up. Now at first I was a bit perturbed by this and didn't really understand. Then it was explained that part of the excercise was to work your brain and come up with imaginitive storylines. So, I get it. That doesn't make the fact that I have no plotline for my story any easier to accept. I'm looking at just under 14 hours to figure it out before the clock starts.

As I mentioned earlier, I always talk about wanting to write yet having no real motivation to do so. I do work incredibly well under deadlines and this time of year, and National Novel Writing Month is a perfect opportunity for me. I want to do this, I need to do this. So, I've got to get this figured out today.

Well, work is pretty tense right now so I need to get cracking at some of my stuff. If I think up a plotline for my story, I'll send it your way.

Oh, and Happy Halloween.

7 days and other thoughts

2008-10-28T15:04:00.004-04:00

Seven more days before election Tuesday and I am getting more and more anxious. I think I probably read anywhere from five to 10 articles about the political race every day and they never fail to leave me wondering what is going to happen to the country in the near future. It's funny, I've always been into politics and yet I have a hard time remembering the last time I had such a vested interest in the outcome. I don't know why it is such a surprise. Four years ago Balin wasn't even an after thought, Grace was a mere two years old and Megan had been driving for less than two months. We were trying to sell out house so we could build a nice new one. Oh how things have changed.

I'm not going to spend all this blog talking politics but I would be remiss if I didn't continue to reinforce my thoughts. I believe we are on the brink of something really special. In my lifetime I have seen seven different Presidents serve the office and none of them have been world changing. Sure, Reagan was in position when the Berlin Wall came down and communism floundered, yet as much as the US had to do with it, I don't feel as if it was as impacting to you and me as the events that could transpire over the next administration (should Obama be elected). Say what you will about him, but he is a Kennedy like figure, fighting not for human rights , as JFK did in the '60s, but for the rights of the middle class. Some people will label him a socialist for wanting to "spread the wealth". Yet if we look at socio-economic growth the disparity between the rich and the middle class has continued to grow at an alarming rate. Staunce conservatives will say that the reason behind this is that the people with money work harder. I fall in a group of people who are classified as the "lower-middle class". I've worked my ass off over the last 22 years to get through college, to claw my way up the ladder at work and I haven't seen a pay increase in over six years. No one is going to tell me that I don't work hard enough and that I don't deserve my cut of the pie. Everyone reading this, remember that it was lack of Wall Street regulation and corrupt business that has crushed our economy and left the lower middle class struggling to keep their homes. The rich continue to sacrifice the poor upon the altar of greed by taking away jobs and sending them over seas, or raising prices so they can maintain their bloated salaries or in the event of a full on corporate collapse taking their golden parachutes, laughing as they clutch their bags of money taken from the pockets of the "serfs".

We are moving towards a feudal society and Obama recognizes that. We need big change and hopefully he will bring it soon. For those who are republicans and hate the ideals of Obama, I'm not going to argue politics with you. Preach about how bad it will be under Obama should he get elected. You aren't going to change my feelings. All I can say is that if the polls continue to go in the direction they appear to be then you better get used to these changes.

On the home front, I'm getting to learn a lot more about my kids as I am spending a lot more time alone with them. Balin, it turns out, really loves his sister. Two weeks in a row now I've taken Grace to ballet class and Balin has broken into tears when we leave her. I think he really misses her when she is gone. I'm sure that it will change as he gets older.

Angie has been taking him to the library on Monday's for toddler storytime and he really enjoys it. He is extremely attentive to things now, sitting for much longer periods of time once his attention is grabbed. Last night he pulled his little rocking chair over, sat down and watched Thomas the Train on television when it happened to come on. He is also talking more and getting a bit easier to understand. He will often repeat words when you ask him too. I was happy yesterday when he said "Bub". He has also started saying "please" and "car" and countless other words. It is great fun watching him practice his language skills.

Gracie is having some issues. She has all of the sudden become afraid of the dark once again (this has happened before). She has taken to sleeping with her closet light on and the door wide open to flood the room with light. I'm not sure what the cause of this is, but think it may have to do with Angie not being around as much, now that she works a couple of evenings a week. Hopefully we can break her of that problem. One good thing, she seems to be eating better and it is much less of a fight to get her to eat what we are eating.

We went down to Ball State and visited Megan last weekend. She got us tickets to the football game. It was extremely cold and the weather was threatening all day. We ended up leaving after the third quarter because we were all cold and getting hungry. We went to her room and checked out the place then took a walk around campus. Seeing the whole environment made me wish she would stay down there. She has her reasons though but I can't help but think she has lost a phenominal opportunity. Oh well, you can only control your children for so long before you have to let go and allow them to lead their own lives.

I started working at Atomic's new mall store this past Sunday. It hurt my feet as there is no place to sit and I was very tired by the end of my shift. Other than that it wasn't bad. We didn't have huge sales, but had a lot of foot traffic. I suppose we will see a huge increase in sales over the next four weeks.

I'm in pretty good spirits right now. I'm not sure why. I hope it continues (it likely has something to do with the way politics are heading). I'm looking forward to Nanowrimo though right now I have no idea what I am going to write about. That said, I hope I can keep up with my blog (though my entries are not coming as often as I would like) and my novel. I've failed to write so many times that Nanowrimo gives me inspiration to at least try. Besides that, it gives me an opportunity to share my writing with you guys. I hope I can get some feedback once I do start writing. If anyone has any ideas of what I should write about (even a genre to start with) it would be helpful. Here are the ideas I've toyed with:

The whole Wolves of Paris idea I wrote about in my last blog entry
A story about a man and woman who adopts a bunch of different kids with differing ethic backgrounds and ages and the subsequent downward spiral of the family when tragedy strikes the family
A story about a man who is spiraling towards self destruction due to continued loss and struggles
A story about a little girl who lives with her mom and believes, like the mom did, that one day the father just left them and has never bothered to come back. The girl finds a passage to a mysterious land with clues that her father had also been there and is now trapped (hence the reason he never came home).
Something to do with dictionaries. I was considering writing a story based upon someone who is voracious about them and his daydreams about including himself in the lives of some of the great lexicographers.
A fantasy story about the life of Elyot the Definer a noble turned zealot and inquistitor.

Those are just a few topics that have popped in my head. Please share with me any idea you might have or offer up your vote as to what I should write about. On November first, at midnight my month begins and by Saturday (yeah, this Saturday) I have to have 1667 words down on paper. By Sunday I need 3334 and by this time next week I'm supposed to have 8335 words on paper. It is a huge undertaking. Please support me as I try to better last year and hopefully get to that elusive 50,000 word mark.

Well, that's all I got for now. Thanks for reading and I hope to hear from all of you soon.

Nanowrimo

2008-10-23T13:46:00.003-04:00

I think all of you understand that I like to write. Well, last year I participated in something called Nanowrimo. Nanowrimo is a contest where authors attempt to pen a 50,000 word (175 page) novel in 30 days. It runs for the entire month of November and can be very difficult. I tried it last year and failed to accomplish the goal of finishing, even though I was successful in reaching 12,000 words (which to me was a huge accomplishment). Last year I was plague by responsibility, the most pressing being all the debate tournaments I had as well as an audit held the week of Thanksgiving. I was also working two days for Atomic, so needless to say I gave myself plenty of excuses not to write.

I am considering trying this again. I'm not really sure what I want to write about, but am considering a story loosely based on the story of the Wolves of Paris. The Wolves of Paris were a pack of man-eating dogs plaguing Paris in 1450, killing 40 people. The leader of the pack was lured into the Notre Dame Cathedral and killed on the steps leading up to the altar. It seems like a pretty compelling story, though I am considering having it set in 21st century America following the collapse of the American economic struture leading to an economic apocalpyse and decay of our society. Not real sure I know how I would go about getting there, but I think it would take a whole lot of words to do so, which is the purpose of Nanowrimo (quantity over quality).

I've got a couple of other ideas, though nothing really fleshed out that I could right about. My story, Corpse, which some of you may have read some of earlier on in this blog was my attempt from last year, though it fizzled out once I started rereading and editting what I had submitted. This year I won't be changing anything, leaving the story as is in an attempt to just meet my word count goals.

Why am I writing this here? Well, the fact is I don't think I can do this without help. 50,000 words is a grueling amount of writing. I hit writers bloc just like everyone else or I start to get lazy and I really need encouragement to meet my goal. I am a chronic project abandoner. This is a huge project and if I don't get help, I will fail. So, I'm asking all of you who read this to help me with Nanowrimo. If you want to read more about it, go to http://www.nanowrimo.org/

I would love to accomplish this. If you have a story idea, or words of encouragement I really could use them. Over the next day or two I am going to work on coming up with a brief outline for my story. Chances are it will be changing, maybe dramatically, especially if I come up with a new idea I might be interested in writing about.

Anyone think I can do this? I sure would like to. Writing a book is something I've always wanted to do. Maybe November will be my month to accomplish it?

Life as it is...

2008-10-17T15:10:00.002-04:00

I haven't written in awhile, and I figured I would spend a few minutes on a Saturday afternoon typing out a few words while I have a minute. Life has not been kind as of late and everyday seems a grind. Finding the energy to put into this blog is difficult, hence the reason I haven't written lately.

Work is a pit of despair anymore. I go in everyday wondering if I'm going to be sent home without pay simply because the company can't afford to keep me right now. As I sit here typing I look down on a plant floor that has ran a total of 6 shifts this week due to low production orders from GM. People from my plant, for corporate and from the others plants have been sent home without pay, with a promise that they will be brought back to run production on Monday. That means that most people are only drawing 2 days worth of pay a week without hope for recovering any of the lost wage through unemployment. I'm hoping I don't become one of the expendable and get sent packing for days at a time.

I've approached John, the friend of mine that owns Atomic Hobbies and Games and he has offered me hours at a new mall store they are opening next week. I've already committed to working Sundays just in case as well as to subsidize my income for the upcoming holiday season. I may try to work more days during the week to get even more money. I have a feeling I"m going to need it.

Angie started her new job working as a receptionist for a Fort Wayne psychiatrist. It has been a bit difficult for me as I've had to become a lot less flexible with my time. Angie works until 5:00 three days a week and until 8:00 on two nights, which means I have to pick up the kids every night as well as prepare dinner for everyone and anythng else they might need. The kids tend to stress me out when we get home because it is typically Balin's crankiest time (he's hungry and normally tired because he doesn't nap well at the sitter's). Grace is normally very demanding of my time and between the two they are pulling me in different directions. I welcome Angie's homecomings simply because she offers a distraction for the kids. The result of her job means that I can no longer go to Atomic on Thursday's (unless I want to drive all the way back across town) so my Warmachine games are basically a thing of the past.

Megan is home right now and her presence is bringing a great deal of stress to Angie and I. For reasons not to be discussed, we would just rather she just stay at school. The house has a lot less turmoil when she isn't home arguing with Grace, trashing Balin's room, or lounging around in bed until late morning. When she isn't doing that she is typically laying down on the couch or similarly not doing much of anything.

The economy is really hurting us, though we are making attempts to reduce our spending. I will likely be canceling one of our two cell phones. We canceled some of our premiere programming for satellite TV, and we try not to go to the grocery store unless we really need to. I think we are doing okay, but only time will tell as full time babysitting costs may make things ugly for us. On a positive note, November should be the last month we have to pay our overly inflated mortgage payments, so that should help.

Tonight Grace is having a friend over to spend the night, officially making it Grace's first real sleep over she's had at our house. She's been excited about it all week. I'm glad she got the opportunity, she's a good little girl.

I finally finished Ken Follett's Pillars of the Earth. It was a good book. Maybe I'll post a full review next week some time. Shortly after finishing it, I went and purchased the sequel to Pillars, called A World Without End. It too is very good and while I'm only about 80 pages in, it too is shaping up to be excellent.

Balin is still eating, and he is starting to talk a lot more. You really have to pay attention, but more and more recognizable words are coming out. Last night I discovered that he really enjoys the show Hole in the Wall. He sat there in his little rocker glued to the TV, occasionally laughing when the people got pushed into the water. It was like he was in a trance. He has also discovered a new found love for all things Elmo. He loves Sesame Street. Whenever we put his food on an Elmo plate he typically talks to the characters on it. It's pretty funny.

Our cat is getting bigger and filling out much better. He is eating a ton and while he is a good cat, I've learned I'm not terribly fond of litter boxes, especially full ones, particularly ones that he fills while we are just settling down to go to sleep. More than once I've had to get out of bed and clean the thing simply because the cat smells so bad. Oh the joys of pet ownership. As I told Angie, he's a nice cat, but he makes we wish for one more day with my beloved dog Hugh.

I need this weekend. I plan on retreating into the den tonight and getting online to play World of Warcraft with some friends of mine. It is a nice escape from reality, something that is really lacking now that I'm not playing much Warmachine. I've had a couple opportunities to play some board games with some friends but that doesn't do much to occupy my constantly racing mind. Warcraft serves that need quite well when I can escape the kids and get away.

I know things are hard for us right now, but I hold out hope that they will get better. I'm not bitter, just a bit remorseful that things are all wonderful and shiny. I dream of the days, like the day we brought Grace home from the hospital, or the day Megan got her braces off, or the first time Hughie was able jump up on the couch. With all the overwhelming issues I deal with everyday, it seems like the simple pleasures are practically ignored.

And life goes on...

Lady Antebellum

2008-10-06T15:21:00.003-04:00

About 6 to 8 months ago I was watching the country music channel on TV one Saturday morning and a catchy little song called Love Don't Live Here Anymore came on. The lead singer, a tall guy with a meticulously groomed beard had a great voice and the song just grabbed a hold of me, forcing me to listen.

I've always had a good ear for music and immediately thought, "This band is going to be really good one day." I had the same impression of bands like Tool (before they even released Undertow) , Green Day, and the Wallflowers (the pet project of Bob Dylan's son, Jakob). I listened to their song and watched their video wondering if they had any more singles released seeing as this was the first time I had been exposed to them.

I decided to go on line and do some research. The band who sang the song was called Lady Antebellum out of Nashville. They hadn't been around together long and had in fact just released their first single, the song I happened to hear on CMT. The band was made up of three friends, Charles Kelly (the tall guy and co-lead singer), Dave Haywood (a talented guitar and keyboard player) and Hillary Scott (a eye-catchingly beautiful co-lead singer with a haunting voice). Well, I was enthralled by them and checked their concert page to see if they were coming close to Fort Wayne. I was thrilled to find out that not only where they coming close, but they were actually playing at the Auburn Free Fall Fair where I could go and see them for absolutely nothing.

I was excited and told Angie I wanted to go see them when they were in town.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago...

Angie and I don't get out on our own too often. We typically have at least one, but usually both kids. Well, we had set it up a month earlier so that the kids could hang out with Grandma and Grandpa Zuber while we went up to Auburn. I was excited all day long, looking forward to seeing the band.

When we got there we were able to get good seats near the middle. We could have actually gone really close to the stage but I didn't want to be crushed by all the people that were filling in up there. We decided that our seats were good as it was and sat back and waited.

There was a good sized crowd, yet it was comfortable. I was actually surprised by how many hardcore fans there were. When the band finally came on stage some of the people were super excited.

I have to admit, even in the 6 months that I had known of the band, I only heard 3 or 4 of their songs. I did however like all of them. I was amazed on how good they sounded live, and each song had an energy to it. Some of the music was upbeat and inspiring, others were slow and moody, playing on emotions, yet beautiful all the same. I honestly have to admit that there wasn't one song I didn't like.

The show was seemed very short, getting over with just past 9:00pm (it started at 8:00). As the concerted concluded the band announced that they were selling T-shirts and CDs up at a tent near the stage. I told Angie I really wanted a CD, so we went up afterwards and waited in line. As we got to the table we saw that the three bandmates had come out and were sitting at the table signing autographs and personally greeting and shaking hands with everyone in line.

It was really cool to talk to them and thank them for entertaining us. All three of them seemed very real and down to earth. They seemed grateful that we came out and I was happy to have all three of the sign my CD.

Now I'm not saying that they are a good band because I got to meet them. They are just really goo musicians. Anyone reading this that appreciates country music would be wise to check them out, because they are just that good. You can listen to their first single by following this link to youtube: Lady Antebellum: Love Don't Live Here Anymore

Oh, one last thing, evidently others thought they were pretty good to. Lady Antebellum was recognized by the ACM as being the best new country group. Good stuff. Tell me what you think.

Homecoming

2008-10-06T14:54:00.003-04:00

This past weekend I decided to attend Adrian College's homecoming celebration. This was the first time I had been back on campus for sometime and I was looking forward to seeing some of my old friends and checking out a campus that has seen some changes over the last couple of years.

I started off by just wandering around, looking at some buildings that had not changed in the 20 years since I had went there as well as at those that did not even exist last time I was on campus. The most radical change had to be the addition of an on campus football stadium and ice arena. The rink was beautiful, as was the stadium. It was amazing seeing the kind of activity the football field attracted as there were many people there hours before the evening's football game, happily tailgating in the parking lot. The ice rink was hosting a hockey game and while I would have liked to have watched, I had places to be and people to see.

I next went to the ATO house to see my fraternity brothers. I was a bit frustrated by the fact that the house was missing their letters. I voiced this to the brothers i met inside, insisting that they find a way to display the letters that were common to all of us. They gave excuses but hey, they are college kids with far more important agendas than that which I might have.

I was the first one that day to visit the house and all the guys there were very kind and receptive to my invasion. The house was clean, and the guys seemed comfortable there. I was hoping to find some of my other brothers, guys I shared my college years with, but no one had shown and there was no anticipation of any showing up. After hanging out for about 30 minutes I decided to wander off again, heading over to the student center.

This building used to be the old Gynasium and I was surprised to see the renovations that had occurred. It was now a beautiful student center with study rooms (cleverly made out of the old press boxes), a new big, bright book store, a Quiznos sub shop (I would have never expected that) and even a fully functioning salon that offered hair cuts, manicures and tanning beds. I was really a suprise. WHile there I ran in to a lady who had worked at the snack bar at Adrian while I had been there. She remembered me and it was really nice speaking to her.

After checking out the student center I wandered over to the new communication building and was happy to see my old friends Sheri and Peter Bleam. Sheri has always been a mentor to me and I was happy to hear that her husband, Pete, had gotten his doctorate and was now a professor in the communication department as well. I got to see the new building with the beautiful new classrooms and television studio. It was simply amazing how far the department has come since I was there. In additon to seeing Sheri I got to see an old friend, Sue Hobe, who I used to hang out with when I was a freshman. She was always a sweetheart and while I've lost contact with her I've always wanted to re-establish our connection so I could stay up with what she is up to. I also got to see a few other friends while there and really enjoyed every minute of it.

After the communication department reception I headed back over to the ATO house and was able to reconnect with my brother, Wes Tapp and his wife and family. Wes has always been a good friend, even standing up in my wedding as I did so in his. It was nice to visit with him and Saralynn. I was able to talk with another of the current brothers and help him with recreating some of the fraternal family trees. I enjoyed thinking back but realized just how many of my memories have fled. I'm going to have to dig through the attack at Mom's house to see if I can find some of my odl ATO stuff to hopefully help me remember. I just love thinking back to my years at Adrian.

I've made up my mind that I am going to try to work with the current brothers to see about bringing back as many of my old brothers as I can next year. I really miss them and would love to re-establish with many of them

At about 6:00 I decided it was about time to get going to I said goodbye to everyone and took one more walk across campus. I still miss my days there and wish they never would have ended. I do know that given the opportunity I will go back more often, if anything just to reconnect with the place that meant so much to me 20 years ago.

The New Addition

2008-09-09T15:34:00.003-04:00

As some of you who have been following this blog for awhile know, we had a little kitten named Whiskers join our family for about 4 days back in May, only to have it pass away when he went back to live with Caleb. Well, after all this time (with considerable pressure placed on us by one particular little girl) we dove head first back into the world of pet ownership yesterday.

Actually it all started on Saturday when we took Gracie and Balin to the Fort Wayne Animal Care and Control to look at animals. Angie and I wanted to look at the dogs, but Gracie was insistent on going into the room with the kittens. We relented.

It was fun watching the two of them interact with the little kitties. I was worried because Grace wanted to hold each of them in turn and was not very agile at handing the cats. Most of them folded over at the belly when she lifted them up, illiciting more than a few plantive "meows". I was trying to control Gracie and failed to pay attention to Balin who attempted to pick up one of the kittens himself. He did so by grasping the cat firmly around the neck and lifting. Needless to say his attempt was far more distressing than Gracie's.

I finally pried his finger apart and got the cat back on the ground when he quickly went after another one. Eventually we had to pick Balin up just so he couldn't get to the poor kittens.

We looked at about 20 different cats and finally settled on lovable six month old black and white short haired named Scooby Doo. It didn't take long to decide that it could come home with us but it's stupid name was staying at the pound. That caused a great deal of consternation between Grace and Angie who had their own ideas on what to name the cat. Angie preferred the names Cooper or Wilson. Grace favored the old favorite, "Mittens". Over the span of the weekend they argued back and forth. I threw out a few names and was basically poo-pooed by both of them. So, by the time yesterday rolled around and it was time for me to swing by and pick up the cat, we still had no resolution, that is until I got home.

Grace was waiting for me in the driveway. She wanted the cat and she wanted it now. Well, I took it into the house and let it our of the carrier. Grace snatched it up and told it that his name was now Mittens and that was the end of it. Grace would listen to no more arguments from Angie. So Mittens it is.

The cat is extremely lovable. He likes to climb up on your lap, your chest, your shoulders. Problem is, sometimes he chooses to do this at inopportune times, like when I was reassembling Balin's bed after moving it from our room to Megan's old bedroom. While I was talking to Angie on the phone today he lept onto Angie's shoulder while she was on the computer. In bed last night, he decided that he needed to step on my face quite often. From 4:30am on we fought with the rotten little cat, who insisted on rubbing it's face against ours, purring as he did so. I've never been overly loved to death, but the cat is making a run at it.

I think this little kitty will do well at our house. Balin loves it and laughs all the time when he's around him. Gracie too has a kinship with the cat already and is fully and madly in love with it. Even Angie has found a deeper appreciation for it (she admitted while I talked to her today). I like the cat but can't help but think that with this pet, I've lost the opportunity to replace my beloved Hughie, who I miss deeply on a daily basis. I know that I will have a hound dog again someday, but I know it won't be until after Mittens has left us.

Anyways, we have entered in the new world of cat ownership. I look forward to it. I look forward to watching my kids grow up with a pet. It means a lot to watch their interactions.

Hopefully I can post a few pictures soon. I'll keep you all updated.

Our Labor Day Weekend

2008-09-02T14:25:00.009-04:00

It felt so good getting out of work on Friday knowing that I had a long weekend away from work. I couldn't wait for it to get started. I had the intentions of leaving work early on Friday but decided to stay as I had an appointment to get my hair cut at about 4:30, so it would do me no good getting out early as I really didn't have anything to do.

I ended up meeting Angie at her sister's shop to get my hair cut and because I was the first one there, got in the chair first. She showed up with the kids not long afterwards and kept me company while Beth chopped my overgrown mop. My hair looks a lot better, but I've started growing my beard again so overall I'm pretty scraggly right now. I'll like it a lot more once my beard comes in, but for now I have to contend with the itching and the scrubby look I'm sporting.

Friday we didn't do too much. Russ and Carol came over and we ordered pizza. Megan made it home around 6:30 and spent the evening with us. It was nice to see her and hear all about school. She had a long weekend to spend with us and headed back this afternoon (she had yesterday off and has no classes on Tuesdays). After four days with us I was glad she was going back. More on that later.

Saturday Grace had a birthday party she was invited to. We had been invited as well as it was held at a local ice cream parlor. We went and while it was a bit boring at times, we stayed and had some ice cream. Actually Balin was the one that made a splash. He hogged down a whole bowl of ice cream as well as an entire cup cake and still seemed hungry. That little guy can eat!

Sunday we were invited up to Hamilton Lake to a friend's house for a cookout. All of us went, including Megan and we had a great time. Paul and Dorothy are the parents of Angie's best friend Michelle. Ang has always had a close relationship with them and it was nice to see them again. They live right on the lake and have a speedboat. Megan insisted on trying to ski. She made several attempts but was never able to get on her feet. A lot of that had to do with all the boat traffic on the lake, which served to make the water very choppy. We all had a good time though. Megan told us that Caleb was coming up to Hamilton and would pick her up at 6:30 at a gas station in town. While we didn't really want to leave, Balin was really tired and we figured we'd drop Megan off on our way out of town. We were surprised to see all the cars at a little restaurant down the road. Didn't seem like it would draw that much traffic on a Sunday, but it did. Come to find out, Democratic Presidential Election convoy, including Barack Obama and Joe Biden had stopped in the little restaurant! Had I known that I would have taken my camera, Grace and Megan down the street and met him. I would love to have a picture of the kids with him. I'd want to pass the pictures down to them as they got older so they could say that they met the future (hopefully) President of the United States. Alas, another missed opportunity in life.

Monday was a bit of a recovery day. It was very hot and I really didn't want to go anywhere or do anything, so we just stayed home. I was able to get a lot of reading done. I've recently picked up The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. It is one of those books that is pretty imposing with a very unassuming cover and a ton of pages (close to 1000). Books like that can either be a blessing or a bore. I typically don't pick up a new author unless I've heard a lot about him/her and know a good deal about what the book is about. I've always had this thing for stone masonry and considering this book is about just that, and the building of the cathedral at Kingsbridge, I decided to go to the local used books store and pick this up at the bargain price of $9.99. So far so good. I'm about 175 pages in and really can't get enough. Once I finish I will give it a much more thorough review. I'll go so far as to recommend the story already, so if that is enough, pick up the book and start reading. It's a good one.

Okay, so back to Megan. She is really starting to concern me. About a month ago she broke up with Caleb. Well, right before she left for college she started spending more time with him. It wasn't a big deal. She met him at the mall for lunch, or went ot Target wiht him. The day she left for college she met him for breakfast which resulted in a great deal of blubbering from her as she pined about how much she was goiong to miss him and all that noise. Remember now, they are just friends now.

Well, Friday night, at 10:00 she had him come over to visit. I was playing on the computer when Angie went to bed around 11:30 and when I went out to get a drink Megan was curled up beside him on the couch, his arm around her, all the lights off while they watched TV. Okay, no big deal.

Saturday Megan was bored, so at around 7:00 she told us she was going out to Woodburn to sit with Caleb while he worked. She got home around 10:30. Again, not a big deal.

As I mentioned earlier, on Sunday he drove up to Hamilton to meet Megan and take her up to his property where his whole family was getting together for a cookout. She was with him until about 12:30am. Again, not a big deal.

Yesterday she told Angie that she wouldn't be having dinner with us because Caleb was taking her out to dinner at the Olive Garden. Just an innocent dinner, not a big deal.

Well, I think the whole of the weekend IS a big deal, and I made sure Megan knew it. I told her that she needed to get her head back in the game, that this thing with Caleb was starting to get out of control. She had already admitted that while at school she called him everyday. When I told her I was concerned she yelled at me and said, "Fine, do you want me to never talk to him again?!? We're just friends. Can't I hang out with my friends?!?"

Well, this bothered me. I told her that she was letting her heart get in the way and she did not have the time or the resources to commit to serious relationship while going to school 100 miles away. It scares to death to think that he is going to capsize her schooling. He needs to give her some space and let her go to school. I told Angie that if he can't be more hands off, then I am going to talk with him. Problem is, I don't think Megan would ever forgive me if I did.

I'm just so afraid she is going to tank in college because she isn't giving it all that it deserves. I've lived that before. When I first started seeing Jennifer in college, and she broke it off wiht me the first time my grades went right in the tank. I think I had a 2.11 GPA that semester. And that was while living on the same campus as her! Megan is thinking like a 19 year old, and my counsel just doesn't carry any weight. I hope that I'm not watching a train wreck unfold. I guess I will know if she shows up at home within the next few weeks. I've told her that she needs to put some time in down there and I don't expect to see her for awhile. I guess we'll see if she can stay away.

I talked to Angie today and she signed Gracie up for CCD classes. They start tomorrow and run every Wednesday night for an hour and a half. I have a feeling that is going to be a disaster. Gracie is a ball of energy and she has no patience for going to church. I guess they start their first class with a mass and I can tell you right now that this will cement Gracie's disposition towards CCD. Grace is a lot like me. She's a free thinker and not prone to except the ritualistic structure of the Catholic faith. I hate seeing her subjected to the regime, but unfortunately I accepted this when I signed the papers saying I would raise my children as Catholics. I hope I don't offend the Catholics who read this, but I find the CCD classes as akin to brainwashing and I hate to see my Gracie, my precious little girl subjected to the forced ideals of that religion. I've always thought the the Catholic faith was more about the ritual than it is about God, and I hate to see Gracie become part of that machine. I want her to go to church to soak in the feeling of pure relief and comfort that can be felt. Not to practice the ritualistic calisthenics forced into her head by the zombies that learned it before her.

I suppose that Grace will rebel if it is something she truly hates. If she likes it, then I'm happy for her, but if she doesn't I will use this as my opening to introduce a counterplan. I would love to be able to consistently attend the Methodist church down the street, and with their Sunday school program, have a chance of convincing Angie that she can learn about her faith and I can start going to church consistently at the same time. I knwo I would never get Angie to change, but I have a chance of building in Gracie a faith that I can accept and follow.

And for all of those out there that have ever questioned my faith, I don't go to church now not because I don't believe in God, but because I can't sit in church and listen to the Catholic doctrine without being sickened by the elitism of the church. I am uncomfortable with it, I don't like it and I told myself that I am not going to subjugate myself to something I don't like just because I need to put on a show for others. Furthermore, I would go to the Methodist church myself, but I know Gracie would want to follow me there and if I allowed that there would be a huge amount of protest in my house. I don't want that either.

Anyways, enough about religion.

I guess I've probably said enough. I've got anohter 30 minutes before I go home, so I should get some stuff done. More later. I'm sure of that.

Sarah Palin who?

2008-08-29T13:10:00.002-04:00

I know a lot of people out there do not follow politics and certainly haven't shown very much interest in the current Presidential Elections. I'm here to tell you that you need to be aware of what is happening on the national stage.

John McCain has made a point of attacking Barrack Obama's lack of foreign policy experience. This, along with his accusations of elitism, have been the largest attacks coming from the McCain camp. McCain can no longer make those accusations.

Sarah Palin is no doubt a wonderful person, the mother of five (including a Downs Syndrome baby born just this past April 18th. She has been a force of ethical integrity for the last few years. She's married to a blue collared oil worker on Alaska's North Slope. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Idaho. She was the mayor of a small town (5500 people) in Alaska until December 2006 when she became the first woman governor of Alaska. Now, in 67 days this self proclaimed "hockey mom" could be one heartbeat away from being the most powerful person in the world.

You see, this morning, John McCain proclaimed in Dayton, Ohio that Sarah Palin would be his Vice-Presidential running mate.

Let me explain about John McCain. John McCain, if he was to win the office of President would be the oldest person to ascend to the position of President at 72 years, 144 days old. This should scare everyone to death. McCain has survived cancer (and while his most recent exams have shown him to be healthy and cancer free) yet at age 72 anything could happen. If it did, the station of President would fall to Palin, and therein should be where we are concerned.

When asked if Palin would be interested in the job of Vice-President Palin refused to comment stating that [paraphrasing] she cannot be qualified to speak on how well she could do without first knowing what the VP job was all about. Palin has absolutely no experience in the world of foreign policy yet Republicans have claimed she is qualified because her son leaves in September for a tour of duty in Iraq.

Palin has no national experience whatsoever. Palin has less than two years as the governor of Alaska. Palin has less education than anyone in this election. Palin isn't qualified to be our President yet she is on the doorstep of that office because of John McCain's decision to put her on the ticket.

I'm sure Sarah Palin is a wonderful individual. She is a beautiful woman with a record of being tough on rule benders and a house cleaner who takes no prisoners. Yet she is still so young (she could have went to my high school had we grew up in the same area of the country), so inexperienced and so distant from the Washington political scene (both in experience and physical distance).

I hope the American public sees the risk McCain is taking putting her on the ticket. I really feel as we cannot elect him now, simply because there is way too much risk with her on his ticket. I really hope Palin has a wonderful political career, but she isn't ready for the top office. Not yet.

Where is Our Country Going?

2008-08-28T13:33:00.004-04:00

Okay, this is goiong to be a rant, plain and simple. I couldn't think of anything to write, so I've decided to just blurt out some of my political thoughts. You may agree with some, you may disagree. That's fine, in fact I would be happy to argue with anyone about them (surprise there, eh?). So, off we go...

-- Gas prices have dropped here in Indiana to a respectable $3.69 a gallon. So, my question is: when the hell did $3.69 become respectable? $3.69 a gallon is ridiculous. The United States is arguably the most innovative and intellectually rich countries in the world yet we can't figure out how to take a vehicle froom point A to point B without burning fossil fuels. How sad is that? The fact is that we have technology but lack the infrastructure to put clean vehicles on the road. The brilliance of the Eisenhower administration was its vision and pursuance of the adoption of the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. Let's imagine how many new American jobs could be created by developing brand new products used to fuel/power electric vehicles. Additionally the United States could put itself back on the automotive map, surpassing Honda and Toyota by becoming the world leader in electric vehicle production. How cool would that be?

--We are still at war in Iraq and planned to be until 2015 until the Iraqi government compromised and said we could stay until 2011. They didn't want us there past 2010 but we felt we needed to be to "protect American interests". American interests = oil fields. Don't listen to the rhetoric about the savagery of Iraq's previous regime when US allies like Saudia Arabia are also horrible perpetrators of human rights violations. If the US was serious about human rights then they would do something about slapping restrictions and tariffs on China who has been identifed as one of the world's worst violators.

--College education (education in general) and medical costs are two of the most out of control costs in our country. It seems to me that if there was anything worthwhile in our country for the government to invest our tax dollars in it would be those two thing. Yet we give tax breaks companies that result in billions of dollars going directly into the pockets of CEOs in the form of bonuses. Even floundering companies like Countrywide reported huge bonuses for their CEOs because tax loopholes have made it possible to make that money untouchable. It sickening to hear a company is looking for government intervention only to learn that the CEO pocketed $40+ million dollars in bonuses.

--In Fort Wayne yesterday two kids were pulled from a school bus and cuffed by city police officers. It seems that the two boys got into a fight and when the bus driver tried to break it up, they attacked her. The police promptly showed up and while talking with the boys, were attacked themselves. That led to the officers putting them in cuffs. What makes me angry is that people in Fort Wayne were in an uproar because the police did this. How crazy can people get?

--The governor of Indiana is looking into leasing out the state lottery to help pay for education. The state lottery has supposed to be there to help with education but for some reason it isn't working. The money is being spent on things other than schools (investigations have shown that there have been issues with people at the state government level using the money to pay for trips, personal expenses and other things). Why don't we just crack down and make it work as it was intended?

--What is so difficult about illegal immigration? Hispanics are coming into our country from Mexico in droves. Why? Because conditions here are better than they are in Mexico. So, why don't we try this: Don't give jobs to illegals, if you are discovered employing illegals, you pay a very significant fine, your business license is taken away, or you and those who do the hiring are put in jail. Do not give social security cards or drivers licenses to illegals. If you give medical care to illegals require hospitals/doctors to report them to immigration immediately. Make it a requirement to show citizenship to enroll children of illegals in school. Basically make it so difficult for illegals to get anything accomplished in this country that they have to go through the correct channels to achieve citizenship. I have nothing against people trying to find a better life for themselves, but I do have a problem with them doing so at the expense of our taxpayers.

Okay, I got a bunch of stuff off my chest, and I feel better. If you want to let me have, I would be happy to hear what you've got to say.

Can't forget Bub

2008-08-27T09:14:00.006-04:00

I would be remiss if posted about Gracie without also writing something about her little brother.

I'm not going to get all mushy about him, mostly because he is simply a terror right now and as much as I would like to fawn on about him, I really don't feel like it.

Bub is having some mouth issues. He has sores on his tongue that I guess he probably got from scraping it with his finger nails. He is having so many problems with his teeth that he puts his hands into his mouth and I think he is tearing up his tongue. I think Angie is going to see if she can find some children's Abesol to put on it to relieve some of the pain. I know that he didn't nap at all yesterday and struggled to go to sleep at bedtime. He just stands in his bed and screams. Eating is difficult for him. I hope these teeth stop hurting him soon as he is simply unbearable as he is.

Balin is starting to talk more and we have been able to pick out a few words. The other day he said Megan and that surprised us. He has also said Gracie, Daddy, Mommy, kitty, see it, and once we thought we heard him say thank you. It si so hard to tell when they are that little, but we do know he is progressing. He can point to his nose, eyes, ears, mouth, hair, toes and fingers. When you ask him to do simple things, like throw something away he understands and does so (he is very disciplined in that when you ask him to do something he does it right away).

Balin also understands different things. When you ask him if he wants a bath he runs into the bathroom and regardless of what he is wearing, tries to get into the tub. He knows what to do when you ask him if he wants to go outside, typically running to, opening, and scooting out the door. All I can say is you better have your shoes on when you ask because he throws a fit if he can't go out right away after you make the suggestion.

One thing I can say about the little guy is that he really loves his sisters. You can tell that he misses Megan. He loves to hug Gracie and whenever she is on the floor he wants to play with her. All and all he is a good little boy. He is smart, funny and determined. It will be interesting to watch him evolve as he grows older.

Soon he will be back to his normal self, the happy-go-lucky little guy who is cruising all over the house, getting into stuff and loving life. Until then I suppose we are just going to have to grin and bear it. I will try to get some morres of him when he is feeling a bit better. He just wasn't up to snuff this past weekend so my shots were limited.

The Rush of Daddyhood

2008-08-27T08:39:00.004-04:00

When I brought my camera in to work this morning I knew I was going to have to post a couple of the pictures that I took this weekend but in truth I really didn't know what kind of story I was going to put to the pictures. Sometimes it is difficult coming up with topics to talk about when it comes time to update my blog. This is especially true when it comes to the kids. It's easy to write about things that they do, or accomplish but it is difficult on those everyday type times when things are just status quo.

Such was my quandry this morning as I was downloading the pictures. Once they were finally transferrred to my computer I took the opportunity to open a few of them up to see how they turned out and that's when it hit. That's when the "Rush of Daddyhood" overcame me and I knew what I was going to write.

Life is extremely imperfect. We trudge through many parts of it, forced to face situations that we would rather just ignore. There are so many moments of monotony, of stress and of anger and frustration. Then there is the "Rush of Daddyhood".

When I opened the picture you see above something happened to me. My heart lept and a smile came across my face as I looked upon the image of my little girl. What an incredible feeling it is to have someone like Grace in my life. There are so many moments where she erases all dread and stress and for that I feel extremely blessed.

Some of those moments are very mundane, like when she falls asleep on the couch and I have to carry her in to bed. Others come in what she says, like when she tells me she loves me all the way up to the sky.

Sometimes it is just watching her when she doesn't know I'm peeking in on her. Like in the van when a song comes on and she begins to sing. I love to listen to her and watch her in the rearview mirror. Eventually she looks up and sees me and that smiles explodes across her face as she quits singing in embarrassment.

Other times it is her profound reliance on me for love, protection and strength. I remember the last big storm we had she was so scared. She came to me in the living room and she and I sat in the dark, her huddled up next to me, jumping at every thunderclap. I wrapped my arms around her, and while this may sound selfish, allowed her to cling to me as I basked in the feeling as I allowed her to take solace in my protection.

I heard the Kenny Chesney song, "There Goes My Life" yesterday and couldn't help but think about Gracie and how perfectly she fits that song. As we recently sent Megan off to college, I imagine Gracie, 12 years down the road, doing the same thing and it made my eyes tear up a bit. She is my little princess. I tell her everyday how much I love her and love it when she reciprocates. Everytime she does I get that satisfaction felt only with the "Rush of Daddyhood".

I know that eventually there will be a time when she goes away and makes a life of her own. Those days will be painful for me, as she is my life and will take a huge part of me with her when she goes. Until then I will steal every moment I can where I can feel the rush that tells me that at this very moment, this very second, I am living life as it was intended to be lived: with a profound feeling that God is lookng down on me, giving me a gift that makes all other travails trivial. He fills me with a feeling born in Heaven and only granted to those who are deserving of his Grace. Funny how that works out.

The Olympics are over, but are they?

2008-08-26T13:58:00.005-04:00

This past Sunday the 2008 Olympics came to a close with the ceremonies in Beijing, China. They were exciting to watch and while I had grown a bit tired of them, many people didn't want them to end. There was a lot of excitement and incredible stories of human endurance, accomplishment and triumph. They were enjoyable from start to finish.

For many, the Olympics are not over, but instead, they are just about to begin...

I want to tell you about a guy named Kevin Stone. He is a 47 year old guy from Kodak, Tennessee. Kevin has been married and divorced, raised two kids, a boy and a girl, and served his country in the army. Kevin however isn't a typical guy though. Kevin is a fighter whose determination is driven by every cell of his body and he has an incredible story.

Kevin is an accomplished archer. So much so that he is considered one of the top twenty markspersons in the United States. On August 23rd, 2008 he kicked off the fire works for the Knoxville Smokies Triple-A baseball team by lighting the first fuse with a flaming arrow from 325 feet away. To put that in perspective think about how difficult it would be to shoot ONE arrow the length of a football field to hit a target. Now imagine that arrow on fire with the entire stadium full of people watching you and your target being a small ring. That is an incredible feat to say the least.

A crazy as his abilities with a bow, Kevin is even more amazing because of his past.

In 1985 Kevin was in the army, stationed in Granada. On his way back to base one day he was the passenger in a jeep, sleeping soundly, when the driver lost control. The jeep plummeted over a cliff, with Kevin strapped inside. The driver managed to bail out, but Kevin had been sleeping and suffered an impact with a granite ledge. Hitting top first, Kevin took the impact to his head. It drove his skull into his spine column and broke four vertebrae. The diagnosis for Kevin was grim: "Death, or total quadriplegia forever." His family was told he'd have neurological damage, degenerative disc disease, osteoporosis, Alzheimer's and degenerative brain disease.

Kevin would not give up fighting though and eventually left the hospital, wheelchair bound and doped up on large amounts of medication. In the years that followed Kevin continued to fight and eventually learned to walk again. He was so determined to live a normal life that at one time he even played volleyball in his spare time with his friends he met while going to college to ear two degrees in art and music.

In the early 90's the pain became even more unbearable. He was taking up to 4,200 milligrams of narcotics a day to deal with his medical conditions. Additonally the brittle bones in his legs started to chip from his efforts to try to move without a wheelchair. Eventually the doctors wanted to amputate his legs. Kevin refused to allow them to.

Then in 1996 a therapist suggested that Kevin suggested that Kevin get involved with athletics. He headed out to Seattle for the National Veterans Wheelchair Games where he saw people competing with more limitations than he had and they were blowing away any score he possibly could imagine.

An accurate long-range shooter in the Army, Kevin decided to compete in rifle shooting. To his surprise, he was beaten by a paralyzed veteran who used a blow tube to activate the trigger and moved the rifle with his chin. In the end this motivated Kevin and he began to train in earnest.

This new fight gave Kevin new motivation and provided him with an upgrade in his quality of life. Always a fighter, this gave Kevin an outlet for his energy, and he began to excel. He managed to medal at various events, finding success in team pistols.

It was then that Kevin decided he was going to up the ante and become an Olympian. He switched his discipline to archery and managed to qualify foir the U.S. Archery Team, disabled team. With that he traveled to Madrid, Spain and competed at the World Championships. The following year he represented the United States at the Paralypic Games in Athens, Greece.

The Paralympic Games are the shadow of the Olympic Games, occuring in the same city as the Olympic Games, just a few weeks later. They have similar events for handicapped individuals. The similarity doesn't end there though. There is also stringent drug testing and Kevin knew that preparing for though games meant getting off the meds.

Kevin suffered through a month of pain medication withdrawls, going from 4,200mg to 10mg of meds a day, including abandoning a 17 year habit of taking 160mg of morphine every day. This came in addition to working out 10 hours a week, strengthening his back and core muscles, and shooting a bow and arrow 30 hours a week. In 2004 he went to Athens and came home with a bronze medal in team archery.

In less than two weeks Kevin will travel to Beijing to compete in the 2008 games in both team and individual archery. Among Paralympic archers, he's ranked in the top 10 in the world.

He works hard to keep that ranking. Kevin practices archery for five hours a day, six days a week. He also works out three hours a night at National Fitness Center in Sevierville: 35 minutes of cardio, a half-hour of core training (sit-ups, back extensions), one of various routines using weights, and a half-hour solely on his legs. He can walk short distances but risks breaking bone.

So, to say that the Olympics are over would be an understatement as I know that Kevin's aren't, nor are the games for 100's of others across the globe who will converge on the same venues that we, over the past two weeks, have become familiar.

There won't be the same coverage for these games. You won't see blocks of competition broadcast on NBC, or scrolling results at the bottom of your screen on ESPN. Yet these athletes will be giving the same degree of effort as Michael Phelps, Husain Bolt, and Misty May.

I will be following the results as best I can, watching online to find out how Kevin has done. Over the last few days I have thought back to those games of volleyball I shared with Kevin. I remember going back to Adrian College for homecoming and hearing how Kevin refused to bring his wheelchair to the football game because he didn't want any of his fraternity brothers seeing him diabled (this was at the time when his doctors were suggesting that Kevin get his legs amputated). I remember Kevin joking with me, calling me Captain Adverb (in reference to the old School House Rock cartoon "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly Get Your Adverbs Here"). You see Kevin is my friend and brother. One that I've known since shortly after his accident. I learned his story as he's lived it. I got to see him struggle with raising a family with his horrible disability. I've got to see him watch his wife Bonnie work while he put himself through college.

It is so rewarding to see him find something that he excels at and claim back his life that was written off by so many doctors. Kevin is a great guy, with a great heart and the drive and determination to never, ever give up. I am proud to have him as a fraternity brother. I am proud to have him as a friend.

So, if the readersof this blog can find it in them to give the Olympics a little more attention, I encourage you all to follow Kevin's progress in his quest to get a gold medal while in Beijing. Think about him when he leaves and competes during the second week of September. I will keep you all updated on his results. Let's hope he brings home gold.

And Kevin, if you happened to read this article, I just want to tell you good luck and as always, Love and Respect.

2 Out, 5 In

2008-08-25T08:17:00.002-04:00

This weekend was all about teeth. It was a long weekend and by Sunday night Angie was begging to let her go to work for me so she could get away from the kids. We both had our fair share of the little hellions this weekend and Monday morning couldn't get here soon enough.

We'll start with Balin. He has not been feeling well. In fact he was running afever on Friday so Angie took him to the doctor's to find out that he has 5 new teeth coming in. Yup, 5, all at once. This has turned him into a Devil-child. He may be as happy as can be at one moment, and the next he is screaming at the top of his lungs, his fingers in his mouth trying to massage the sore gums. It has been extremely trying for us. He won't sleep through the night, waking up crying once or twice a night. He won't take good naps because he wakes up and his mouth hurts. He can't eat much and we are trying to find soft foods but even with those he only eats a little bit. It has left both of us with the hope that he gets over it soon.

Grace has had her share of tooth problems over the weekend as well. The last time she lost a tooth she was initally very excited, and then proceeded to pass out cold in the bathroom. That said, this time around she was terrified of losing her newest loose tooth. She wanted it out, but as soon as we went to help her she started to lose control and just sob uncontrollably. At one time Saturday I truly feared that she would hyperventilate she was breathing so fast. She wanted me to pull the tooth and besides my own teeth, I have no experience with that kind of thing. When I had a loose tooth as a kid I just went into the bathroom and wiggled the stupid thing until it came out. Gracie would have no part of that. Finally on Sunday Angie just reached into her mouth and yanked the damned thing out. That was the end of that. Grace was fine, she didn't faint this time and was happy to put the tooth under her pillow last night with instruction to the Tooth Fairy not to take the tooth because like her first one, she was saving it.

Megan called from college yesterday. She and her roomate are both sick. Kendra has been throwing up the last three days and Megan has both a terribly sore throat and three fever blisters on her lips that hurt and cause her great consternation. I think that most of the problems come from their collective worrying, which Megan is very good at. She did say that she met a girl down the hall and has been hanging out with her as Kendra has been too sick to leave the room. It makes me happy to hear that she has started making friends. She is coming home this coming holiday weekend (I imagine it is the need to pick up some things she didn't take with her the first trip down than it is to see the family she is missing). I know I look forward to seeing her and hearing about all the new things she is experiencing. She starts class today and said she would call tomorrow (her light class day) to let us know how they are. I will post an update when I find something out.

On a positive note, Angie and I took the kids on a picnic lunch to the rose gardens yesterday. I was able to get a few pictures of the kids that I should be able to post soon (I forgot to bring my camera to work today otherwise I would have done so with this post). Balin was having tooth issues, so I only got one or two of him, but I did get some good ones of Gracie. I especially like one of her high up in a tree. It turned out very good. You'll see.

Well, that's a little taste of my weekend. Nothing else much happened. Lots of teeth, that's about it.

One Down, Two to Go...

2008-08-21T15:22:00.005-04:00

Well, we turned Megan loose yesterday. At about 1:30pm we left home, the van and her car loaded up with her stuff, off to college for her first semester away from home.

To say that yesterday was a stressful day would be an understatement. Megan was a mess all day long up until we left her last night.

It started bad. She decided that she was going to meet Caleb for breakfast so she could say goodbye to him. Granted, they broke up a couple of months ago, but they have remained close and have spent time together. We have no problem with this. Evidently she does. She came home just wailing and crying. I guess he gave her a note and she was so distraught she couldn't even read it. I felt bad for her, but I think she will find out that she did not make a mistake when she decided to move away to go to school.

When I got home at 11:30 I asked Angie and Megan if they wanted something to eat and that I would run to the store to pick up something. Megan said that if she ate anything she would throw up (she was stressed/nervous). She actually broke down and started crying when we were clearing out her room, saying she was afraid and scared to death because she didn't know what to expect. I tried to make light of it and tell her that she could come home anytime she wanted but nothing would help, other than letting her cry herself out and get over her fears.

Anyway, we made it to Ball State. Wow, the traffic was horrible. It seemed like a million people were moving in at once. Megan actually got to move in a day earlier than the rest of the population because she signed up to live in the dorms for two years, otherwise move in days start today. Let me tell you, I think everyone is staying in the dorms for two years and everyone has a last name that starts with an A-E because it seemed like the whole student body was surrounding Studebaker West (the dorm Megan lives in). Megan's designated time (3-5pm) was based on the first letter of her last name, with all the people before her supposedly being gone when her group moved in. Not the case, I assure you.

We pulled in and was told by campus police that we were to back into a space, pull everything out of our vehicles and throw it on the grass, then move our vehicles 4-6 blocks away at the field house parking lot. Well, I told Megan just to leave her car and that I would move the van after unloading. I did that, came back and met Kendra's parents (Megan's roommate). Luckily her dad had brought a dollie and helped move all of Megan's stuff upstairs. We waited for an eternity in the building elevator bay, taking our turn to ride up the 5 floors in the cramped car to Megan's floor. We went all the way to the end of the hall where Megan had her room overlooking the same lot we just unloaded in.

The room seemed small. It is probably a couple of feet smaller than the rooms a Adrian. She really would have benefited from a loft, but with the new furniture they were not allowed one. They did stack their beds into bunks and were able to get each of the two drawered dressers under Megan's bunk, freeing up some room. After about an hour of moving furniture around we were able to get the beds made and everything put away.

Their room looks nice. Not a lot of free space, but a decent enough room. They each have really nice desks and armoires to keep their clothes in, and surprisingly had plenty of room for their stuff. They could actually bring a lot more clothes than they did, so that is a good thing. The room looks cute. They still have to decorate a bit, but I'm sure they'll take care of that over the next couple of days.

Megan got to meet a couple of the girls across the hall, one of whom is a scholarship softball player. The dorm was hosting a Popsicle on the Patio event that night, so Megan was looking forward to that. They wanted to give the residence the opportunity to meet the other people from the dorm.

After getting everything put away we took Megan's car over to the stadium so she could park it. It was about a mile away, so I doubt she'll be driving it much. After that we took her to Burger King to get something to eat. She had a terrible headache (from not eating since breakfast combined with the stress she had put herself under all day). Afterwards we took her to Wal-Mart and bought her a few things like a case of pop, some Pop tarts, granola bars, a desk lamp and bulbs, thumb tacks, double back tape (to hang her cute little valance they were hanging over their windows), crackers, and cable for her TV. I learned that Wal-Mart was not the place to be on move in day as there were a million BSU students in there buying stuff for their dorm rooms. Live and learn.

With that we took Megan back to her dorm where she intended on getting a nap before Popsicles on the Patio. I think Angie was going to call her today to find out how she was doing. Megan intended on spending the entire day today wandering the campus trying to figure out where everything was. I told her that she just needed to make sure she asked questions and learned her way around. I know with Kendra there they will figure things out.

It was a little difficult leaving. I wanted to stay with Megan and encourage her to push ahead and not to be scared. I wanted to assure her that she was going to have a great time. Caleb was really weighing on her emotions, it was pretty apparent.

I also wanted to stay because I just love the campus atmosphere. Every little nuance took me back to my days on campus. I loved every second I was in college. I miss that time of my life more than any other time I've been alive. It is such a joy seeing one of my children get to experience it as well.

We left campus at 7:30 and made our way home. Angie got a little teary-eyed on the way home. I didn't feel sad, but happy that Megan was finally take a huge step in her education. I will always contend that college has a lot of scholastic learning to offer, but being away from home provides the greatest learning experience.

Megan will be home over Labor Day weekend and I can't wait. Not because I miss her already (she hasn't really been gone long enough yet for that to happen) but because I can't wait to hear what stories she has already began to accumulate. I will soak up every word and through her transport myself back to my four years. I hope that her's are as adventure filled and wonderful as mine.

Fantastic Contraption

2008-08-19T14:19:00.003-04:00

A friend of mine posted this link on one of the forums I visit and I wanted to share it with all of you. It is a horribly addicting game that has made me much less productive both here at work and at home. It is called Fantastic Contraption. It is a simple concept but so frustrating. Truthfully I just like to make random machines and see how they work. Take a peek...

Fantastic Contraption (<-----click here)