Ceiling fan stretched long and tall.
To the corner, sprawl.
Picture taken with an iPhone.
Shadow on the wall
Ceiling fan stretched long and tall.
To the corner, sprawl.
Ceiling fan stretched long and tall.
To the corner, sprawl.
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.
Winter Season
Talk
“Understood.” He smiled a real smile this time, throwing her coat over his shoulder; then holding up his hands in a show of defeat.
Oscar had turned out to be the perfect gentleman, so far. Esther lay in his warm cozy guest room. She admitted to herself it beat the fire out of a sleeping bag in her floor. She had no intentions on going to a hotel. What little money she had, had to last. But it didn’t matter; after she found out that there wasn’t any hotels. But Oscar didn’t need to know that, right?
She got up to use the bathroom and saw him sitting on the couch.
“Did I wake you?” He didn’t turn around from his task.
She wasn’t trying to be quiet or noisy. It didn’t matter they were both up. She sat in the floor beside the coffee table. She watched him for a moment as he pretended to grade papers. It was easy to tell his heart wasn’t in it. “Would you like to talk about it?”
He pushed his glasses up on his nose with his middle finger. Talk? Talk to who? Her? He couldn’t, he didn’t know her. She wouldn’t understand. How could she? How could he trust her with his most private feelings?However, she was right he was dying inside. His heart was about to burst. It was hard for him to open up to anyone. He finally turned to face her. She seemed to glow in the pale lamp light. Talk to her, that voice inside called.
“Eleven years ago I got baptized. I’ve been trying so hard to live a life pleasing to God.” He took a deep breath. “My biggest hurdle is my family. I work with my church when I can. I give money when I feel led too. I try to be a good person but I’ve fail where my family is concerned.” He lowered his head.
“We all fail and fall short of the glory of God. He knows we’re not perfect. That’s why he sent Jesus to die on the cross, so we can have his Grace and keep trying.”
Her words made him want to cry. She made so much sense.
“Need some help?” She finally asked.
“I couldn’t impose.”
“Impose.” She smiled. “Consider it rent.”
There was that twinkle in her eye. It was as if God had put a distant star there.
“Do you only wear glasses to read?” She asked.
“Only when I am working with large amounts of stuff,” he waved his hand over the coffee table. “Sometimes by the end of the day, but not often. Are you sure I didn’t wake you?”
She smiled, “no. I don’t sleep much.”
He cleared his throat, while reaching for a stack of papers, which he handed to her. “The answer key.” He pulled a large three ring binder out from under the coffee table.
“What test is that?”
“Understanding Earth Part 1.”
“Where are you?” He mumbled to his answer key guide book. “Here you go.” All his answer keys were green. She assumed they would be easier to find in a sea of white.
She took the answer key from him giving her full attention to the test papers.
Once she was busy, he watched her. He loved how her hair stood up in random spots as she brushed her fingers through it. And the way her fingers lay like a fan on the papers. Who was this woman really? Why had God put her in his way? Why did he want to get to know her? Why did he even care? There was something there. A pull, a tug he’d never felt before. The rational part of him sent himself a warning be careful. What if she ends up breaking our heart? Then what will we do? But another part of him answered. A part that he didn’t know well; wasn’t even sure he had. She’s here. Find out all you can.
Wishes
You have three magic genie wishes, what are you asking for?
My father in heaven…
No.
~
Star light. Star bright.
No!
~
Abracadabra!
No!
–
The man in the moon?
No!
~
Mirror, mirror on the wall?
No!
~
Where’s that frog?
Eew,no!
~
A shooting star?
No!
~
Throw a coin into a wishing well?
Keep your change. No!
~
A message in a bottle?
No!
~
A four leaf clover?
No!
~
There’s no Genie.
No!
~
Tarot card?
Never!
~
Phsyic medium?
No.
~
Magic and wishes?
Eye roll.
~
Horoscope?
Nope.
~
Numerology?
Nah.
~
Law of attraction?
No!
~
Tea leaves?
Only if I can drink the tea.
~
Falling leaves?
Hmm, no.
~
If I think it. Believe it. That will make it real?
Insert cricket sounds here.
Again, no.
Waste Not. Want not: Scary cheap
Happy Halloween
It’s hard not to get pulled into the fun that is Halloween. People spend a lot of money on Halloween costumes. Not this cheapskate. This costume cost me $2.00 because I had most of it. I bought batteries for the raven on my shoulder. Only used 2 out of the pack. And the ‘caution:haunted’ tape around my body and hat.
I wore this to our ‘Boo on Main’ Saturday. Boy howdy did I get the looks. I scared on little boy. He started crying. 😢 Another boy about 10, asked if he could take his picture with me. And a little fellow about 4 wanted a hug. 🥰 And I was asked if the corn for the corncob pipe was real? Yes, we ate it for dinner. 🌽 It was delicious too.
Wisdom according to Thumper
Describe a family member.
Winter Season
Country vs city?
Please be advised ADULT LANGUAGE!
“No, we’s not. We’s chosen to be uneducated, unpolished, poor white trash. I don’t care how country you are or how poor you are. You can use home spun English and still sound like you have sense. You can be poor as dirt and be clean and not smell like a sweaty beer soaked dishrag, with a hint of pot and then try to cover it up with gas station cologne.” She held her nose up sniffing the air like a chef sniffing the aroma of the main course. “And most of all you can be poor and have some manners.”
Oat puffed out his chest, “one, you don’t jaw to my Pussy like dat. Two, ain’t you just all high and mighy.”
Esther smiled a great big smile, “you ain’t seen jawin’ yet.”
If Oscar could have dried up and blown away, he would have.
“We gonna let ya eat.” They all filed out of the house. Pussy in the lead with Oat bringing up the rear. He stopped at the door, “you go fur it bro. Like I says, you needs a good fuckin’.” He winked as he walked away. “The way I sees it, you two; two peas in a pod.” He called out from the sidewalk.
Esther closed the door behind them.
Oscar had slid down the door frame to a squatting position in the floor. He felt like he was about to throw up.
“I am so sorry.” She heard Oscar whisper from the floor. “God, forgive me. I am so sorry.”
She got down in the floor with him. “You can control your brother as much as I can control the weather. And we both know I can’t do that.”
“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Please forgive me.”
She lowered her voice to the softest whisper she could, “Oscar.”
His heart stopped. Was this voice from his dream. His stomach cramped. He jolted past her out of the room.
Oh well, she thought. Before she left, she cleaned up the kitchen the best she could. As she was putting her coat on, Oscar walked into the room. “You don’t have to go.”
She smiled, “thank you for a wonderful evening.”
“You’re too kind.” He forced a smiled, “the evening of insults.”
“I will return your socks after I wash them.”
“Where are you going?”
She was a little shocked and her first reaction to any situation reared its head; anger. “I beg your pardon.”
“We didn’t clean the house or unload the truck.” He sounded almost panicked.
“Hotel,” she headed toward the door.
“Please,” she stopped and turned around slightly annoyed. “I have a guest room. Stay here. It’s the least I can do.”
All kinds of sick axe murdering thoughts rolled through her mind. “You’re very kind. You don’t really know me nor do I know you.”
“True. But we are both mature adults. I can never apologize for what just happened.” He put his hand over his heart. “Plus, we don’t have a hotel in this town. The closest one is half an hour away.”
Esther laughed, “none?” She thought about that for a moment, she was way much too weary to drive another half an hour.
Oscar gave a half smile, “not even a B&B.”
“AirBnB, VRBO?”
He thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Okay,” he helped her out of her coat. “But I’m goin’ to warn you,” She raised herself on her tip toes. Her eyes sparkled and dance with playfulness. “I can protect myself, Mr. Patterson. You’re bigger than a mouse.”
Poetry & More 