Winter Season

Church

She was amazed when he walked out of the hallway. There really wasn’t anything fancy about the way he was dressed; a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He just looked nice. “You look nice this morning.” She liked the way his hair laid. Who did he have his hair cut like? She couldn’t think.

“Good morning.” He sounded a little surprised. “Thanks,” he smiled.

“Mornin’,” she stretched, yawned and rubbed her face trying to wake up.

He extended his hands to help her out of the floor.

She took a deep breath and sighed, “hmm Old Spice.”

He just smiled.

“So, what’s the chance I will get to go shopping for cleaning supplies today?”

He called after her, “none till after lunch.”

When she finally emerged, his heart skipped a beat. She looked amazing in just blue jeans and a royal blue sweater, and her hair was all over the place. It was at that moment he noticed just how amazing her eyes were. They were a pale shade of blue that reminded him of the lake where he spent so much time with his dad.

“Okay then Mr. Patterson, what does one do on Sunday in this town?”

“Please call me Oscar.”

She sat down beside of him on the couch angling her body so she could see him as they talked, “as you wish.”

“One goes to church, stays at home, or goes to the lake.”

“Oh church,” she gasped. “Please don’t let me stop you from going to church.”

“You’re not. The pastor called this morning. Too many of the congregation have the flu so he just called it off.”

“Okay.” That seemed odd but she was in a new place.

“Will you go to church with me some time?”

She smiled. “We can give it a whirl.”

“May I ask what that means?

“I don’t have a very high opinion of organized religion. I believe, I have been saved and baptized, and I try to do what Jesus has commanded me to do. And I know that we are supposed to worship with like-minded believers. Personally, I feel like churches have gotten too segregated. Each church has to have its own playground, its own activity center, they’re like little compounds.”

“But the Bible also tells us to come out from among them.”

“Yes it does but it also tells us as Christians that we are to take the gospel to the people. We can’t expect the people to come to us.”

“So how do you make that fine distinction?”

“I’m not sure. But churches have gone overboard. And what is with praise and worship teams? I rented this adorable little house. At first, I didn’t know that it was right in the middle of two churches. You could stand on my porch and see both of them. It was a contest to see which church could vibrate my bed. I would be lying in the bed at night an honestly, you could feel the bass. Why?”  

“He did say make a joyful noise.” Oscar smiled. It was nice to have someone to talk to.  How amazing it was to have a conversation. You can’t have a conversation with teenagers, all they do is text. Other teachers complain about work. His family made him feel like crap. Chet and Bell were about the only two people that he had to talk to but sometimes it was all about their jobs. Which he understood that conversations were two way streets, but one can only hear so much about changing adult diapers. And sometimes, though words were not spoken, he was sure Chet was tired of him being sick all the time.

“Yes he did.” Esther brought him back to the conversation at hand. “But he didn’t say; shake thy neighbor’s bed while you’re doing it.”

Spring forward, fall back.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo.
Scream it at the top of your lungs.
Would someone pick one?
Leave us alone.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo. Scream until you turn blue in the face. Pick one already. Leave us alone.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo.
Scream ‘til you can scream no more. Year after year, it’s the same chore. Leave us alone.

Scream it Mr. Cuckoo.
No one is listening to me.
My plea goes unanswered. Pick one and leave us be.

Winter Season

language

Test continued

Esther continued grading her paper.

Question 4

List 5 types of natural disasters discussed in this chapter. 1. landslides, 2. acid rain, 3. droughts, 4. earthquakes, 5. Floods

Acid rain was on his answer key, but she wondered how it could be listed as a true natural disaster. So she asked, “how is acid rain a natural disaster?” He gave her a very shocked look. “I know that rain occurs naturally without any help from man. Though during times of extreme drought man does try to seed clouds. But the acid is a byproduct of our fossil fuel consumption. So how is acid rain a natural disaster?”

“Well!” He was amazed and a little floored. He felt the tingle not only in his brain but his groin. He rubbed his hand through his hair. “Not all acid rain is produced as a result of human consumption. Acid rain is also caused by volcanic eruptions or extreme forest fires where lightning started the blaze not man.”

“Hmm, good point.”

He was in total shock. What kind of woman was this sitting in his living room floor? A new kind, that voice inside him answered. Maybe one that could stimulate his brain and his body?

She ran her fingers through her hair again. It occurred to him he was staring at her. Again. And that tingling feeling was growing stronger.

“You used neotenous while we were playing in the snow.”

She leaned against the couch angling her body toward him. “Do you not think we were being neotenous?”

“It’s a zoology term.”

“Are we not animals?” He stared at her for a long moment. “We are separate from other animals on this planet for a lot of different reasons. But at the end of the day, are we not animals?”

“I’d never really thought about it.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair again.

She scooted back to the coffee table grading her test: Question 5

Give me a general definition for plate tectonics. Movement of the Earths plates

Question 6

What happens at a divergent boundary? Two of the Earth’s plates are being pulled apart.

Question 7

What happens at a convergent boundary? One plate falls under another plate

Question 8

What is a transform fault boundary? It’s when my dad drinks up the electric bill money, blames mom when the lights get turned off then beats the hell out of her, transforming her face into something new.

“I think Little Bill’s mom is in a domestic violence situation.”

“Excuse me.” Oscar looked up.

“Question 8 of this test you asked, ‘what is a transform fault boundary?’ He wrote; ‘it’s when my dad drinks up the electric bill money, blames mom when the lights get turned off then beats the hell out of her, transforming her face into something new.’ Oh there’s more on the back. ‘The only boundary he knows is leaving me alone or mom would kill him.’” She looked up at Oscar.

“Every teacher up there has reported Bill’s parents to social services.”

“Let me guess, too large of a work load and not enough money. Little Billy will be in college before they help him.”

“Or dead.”

“Typical.”

Question 9

What is the best known transform fault in the United States? San An Drayous

Question 10

How long does scientist estimate it took to form the Canadian Rockies? 10 million years

They graded papers for hours. When morning finally arrived, she was stirred by the smell of coffee. To her embarrassment, she had fallen asleep in the floor. Oscar had been kind enough to put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her.

The past: dead yesterdays?

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

I saw someone today that I knew back when.

If the past is dead, why do we seek it?

Familiarity?

~

If the past is dead,

why does it drive our imagination to relive it?

Longing?

~

If the past is truly dead,

why grief for it?

Desire?

~

Was the past really better than today?

Will tomorrow be worse than yesterday?

Comparisons?

~

My dad grieved over lost yesterdays.

Was the present not enough?

Confusing?

~

Why does the past evoke such strong emotions in us?

If it’s dead?

Human.

~

The past may be dead.

But because we lived it. Loved in it.

We can’t let it go. Nostalgia.

<

We grief.

We mourn.

We rage against yesterday.

~

Yesterday’s gone.

But those feelings live on.

In our heads and our hearts.

~

The good.

The bad.

The worst.

~

The pretty.

The beautiful.

The ugly.

~

Yesterday is dead.

Gone.

But not lost.

~

Yesterday is dead.

History made.

Not forgotten.

~

Don’t go searching for the future in the past.

Remember it so you don’t repeat it.

It’s the past for a reason.

Winter Season

Paper

She put the paper down and took a deep breath, “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have engaged with your family a while ago. I just don’t deal well with his kind of people. I grew up dirt poor but my gram would have died before she would have let me go out of the house lookin’ or smellin’ like we didn’t have anything. And never would I have had holes in my clothes. It kills me that people associate poor with,” she pointed at the door, “him. If I ever overstep, just tell me.”

Oscar swallowed hard. He thought long and hard about what to say to her. That little voice said, tell her the truth, what do you have to lose? “We really didn’t grow up like that. We didn’t have much. I don’t know what happened to him. He always got everything he wanted. It didn’t matter what it was. If mom could find a way to give it to him, he had it. That, what you say is a choice, he wasn’t raised that way.” He pursed his lips together. “Thank you for speaking up.”

“You’re welcome.” She went back to her paper.

The questions on the test were as follows:

Question 1

What energy drives Earth’s interacting systems?

Billy answered heat. The answer key said internal heat.

“What if they only got half the answer right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Little Billy here answered heat. Your answer key says internal heat.”

“Beside the question number right ½ then somewhere near his heat write internal heat.”

“Got ja.”

Question 2

According to geologic time, how old is the Earth? 4.6 billion years

Question 3

What are the three “clans” of rock that reflect Earth’s geologic processes? 1. Igkneous 2. Setomentary 3. Medomorphic

“What if they have spelt the words wrong?”

Oscar drew a sleepy breath. “The words that they written, do they make sense?”

She sighed almost laughing, “yeah. Hooked On Phonics worked for this kid.”

“Then spell out the correct way near their answer and give them credit.”

“But isn’t that encouraging poor spelling habits?”

“That’s what I said. But I was told and I quote,” He pulled his glasses to the base of his nose and puffed out his chest, throwing his shoulders back. ‘Mr. Patterson, you are a science teacher not an English teacher. Leave the spelling and grammar to them.’ And that’s what I’ve done.” He let the air out of his chest and pushed is glasses back up.

“Okay. I take it that doesn’t sit well with you?”

“No. We are cheating them.”

As she graded away at Billy’s test, she wondered if Oscar’s kindness started out as something else. She sometimes couldn’t leave well enough alone so she asked. “Are you always so kind as to help strangers unload moving vans? Or was there a bigger fish to fry?”

He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. What? Well, big boy, she’s got you dead to rights. How are you going to get out of this one? His first thought was to ignore the question. No. No, you can’t. God is testing you here. “Why would you ask me that?”

She watched him. “One of the big issues I have to work on as a Christian is my faith in people. No one does anything out of the goodness of their hearts. We get something out of it, even if it’s a feel good.”

Wow, who was this woman that could see into his soul? If she could sense that, she would be able to sense a lie. “I came over to help you to get away from my brother. He hates anything associated with work.” Oscar hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

She smiled, “I’m the one to be sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. And your brother is a,” she paused choosing her words carefully. “Joy to be around.”

Oscar started to feel warm inside. A warmth he’d never felt.

My Thankful Thursday is more like Testimony Tuesday.

Every day of my life I ask, “God is that you?” An e-mail comes in with something that sounds interesting. “God, is that you? Is this a direction you want me to take? Or is it Satan using even the most trivial of situations to cause me to loose faith in myself or worse loose faith in God?” We know Satan will use any means necessary to get us to ask the wrong questions. To move or focus away from God.

Sometimes I feel like Jonah, is this really what you want me to do God? Is this really where I need to be? Can I even do this? Other times I feel like, this is something I should be doing? ‘Right God’? This is a good path? But it doesn’t feel right.

Is that you God?

Keep leading me Lord. I will do my best to follow. Give me clarity to know what is your will and the strength to follow through.

Psalm 17:5 “Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip not.” KJV

The USS Scorpion

Simon woke shivering. This wasn’t an uncommon thing. He had been homeless for 20 years now. 20 years since his dad had passed away. There was so much debt; the banks took everything. It was in that moment Simon decided to become a beach bum. He walked the hundreds of miles to the nearest beach. The miles and miles he walked took him to the biggest body of water he had ever seen with his two eyes. But there wasn’t the warmth he had dreamt of. Or the endless bikini clad bodies and hours of sunshine. His dream came true between May and September. Followed by cold, snow, and ice. Many nights he woke to fog frozen in his beard and eyelashes.

Woken by the bitter cold pressing down on him; Simon remained glued to his spot on the dock. A fog had rolled in so thick; his hand had to be in front of his nose before he could see it. If he moved, he might fall into the water and surely die. Homeless, hungry and at the moment, scared; he wasn’t ready to die. He would make it to his endless summer beach. Where he would never know cold again.

Were voices calling to him through the fog? No, couldn’t be. Who in their right mind would be out in this? He had a moments reprieve from the fear as he chuckled to himself; he was out in this.

“Ahoy!” He heard it loud and clear. A fog horn blew so loudly that it hurt his ears. He tried to block out the sound with his hands. It was no use. They were as thin as paper against the noise. His head was now buzzing from the assault.

Through the buzzing, did he hear it again? “Ahoy!”

How long did it last? Maybe if he laid back down, he could sleep it off?

This time the sound like that of a hammer hitting the dock woke him. The fog was still thick, cold and damp. His clothes were now completely soaked.

“Ahoy!”

“Who…. who’s there?” He stammered, rising to his knees.

The voice was loud and clear. “Ahoy!”

Simon cleared his throat. “Ahoy!” Finally shouting back.

“Where are you? I can’t see a thing in this fog.”

“Sitting on the dock.”

“Where are you?”

Simon thought about this question. “Don’t know. Never cared to know.”

“Where do you want to be?”

“Some place warm and sunny. Where I’ll never be cold again?”

“Follow my voice. Come to me.”

On his hands and knees, Simon crawled to the sound of singing. Blow the man down was being sung loud and strong. Soon a choir of voices filled his ears.

His hand slipped off the edge of the dock. Cold water tore at his arm through his coat. He was falling head first. A cry escaped him as strong hands pulled him up to a metal hole. Light poured around him. Eyes were painstakingly watching him.

“Welcome aboard the USS Scorpion.” A commanding voice greeted him. “We need a dishwasher.” Voices laughed. “What’s your name?”

“Simon.”

“Follow Mac. He’s our cook and your boss. He’ll get you some dry clothes and show you around.”

Everyone was friendly. Simon took to his new job with ease. In the kitchen, a calendar, 1967 was across the top in big red letters above a picture of Elizabeth Taylor. May first was marked through with a big X.

Simon had never felt this kind of camaraderie before. He felt like he belonged here. So, he decided to keep his mouth shut about the date being wrong on the calendar. His birth year was 1974.

Squid wanted to give Simon a tattoo. All the sailors had one. He finally agreed. Squid drew a mermaid sitting on an anchor with USS at the top and the word Scorpion curved around the bottom. It was the most beautiful thing Simon had ever saw. He kept his sleeve rolled high to show it off.

The days on the calendar were marked off one by one. 1968 received no official calendar. It was hand drawn on the back of the old one. Squid drew different pictures to celebrate the passing months. May 1, 1968.

“Land!” Rang throughout. Men erupted with laughter and cheering. Some even cried.

When it was Simon’s turn to disembark, his heart stopped. The water was the bluest blue he had ever seen. The trees so green it hurt to look at them. Beaches so white and pure, he cried when his feet touched them. Here! Here was where he wanted to be.

The crew of the Scorpion stayed here for two weeks. Relaxing among the locals.

Simon waved them off. He watched from his new home as the Scorpion dove out of sight. Light in his heart. Feeling a happiness he’d never felt before, Simon fell asleep under the stars. Warm not cold.

When he woke, he panicked. He was shivering. Everything was a bright white. Even his clothes. He knew the cold fog was back. The fog. The cold.

Four wall surrounded him. Where was he? There was a small cut out in one wall. It could have been a window. He was scared. Filled with the feeling of isolation. He ran over to the small cut out. Screaming at first. Then pounding. He pounded on the wall until it ran red with his blood. He screamed and cried until his voice was gone.

The window opened with a hiss. The hate-fullest looking man Simon ever saw was staring back at him.

“What?” The man barked.

“Where is the beach. The warmth. The sand.” His voice hurt. “Where?” The man didn’t speak. “The Scorpion dropped me off on a beach.”

“The USS Scorpion sank May 22nd, 1968 with all hands.”

“No.” He cried with a squeak in his voice. “I was just there. Not two weeks ago.” Angrily, he raised his shirt sleeve showing off the beautiful mermaid tattoo. “Where did she come from?”

“You carved that into your skin Mr. Gill.”

“You’re wrong. I can’t draw.”

“Take it up with doc tomorrow.” The little window slammed shut.

A fog horn blew in the distance, “AHOY!”

I just want to play

What does it mean to be a kid at heart?

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

Yes!

Juvenile

~

Would you like to woller in a pile of leaves?

Yes!

Childish

~

Is there a child inside you dying to come out and play?

Yes!

Immature

~

Sometimes do you want to cry or whine just cause?

Yes!

Baby

~

When your boss starts talking about raises do you want to shout “show me the money!” Jerry McGuire style?

Yes!

Inappropriate

~

In a warm summer rain, do you want to dance and sing?

Yes!

Silly

~

Do you think a pillow fight sounds like fun?

Yes!

Stupid

~

Would you like to swim with the dolphins?

Yes!

Infantile

~

Do you want to chase that rainbow?

Yes!

Puerile

~

Would you like to jump in all the puddles!

Yes!

Neotenous

~

Juvenile

Childish

Immature

Baby

Inappropriate

Silly

Stupid

Infantile

Puerile

Neotenous

~

You are an adult.

Time to put away all the childish…..

play.