It took a few tries to get the best one but here are the practice shots. I attempted to use a tennis ball to get the boys to look at the camera, but that only worked for one try then they wanted to play or snuggle. :) Merry Christmas everyone!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Christmas Photos
It took a few tries to get the best one but here are the practice shots. I attempted to use a tennis ball to get the boys to look at the camera, but that only worked for one try then they wanted to play or snuggle. :) Merry Christmas everyone!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Center Stage
Second short story for the semester. This is a first draft. Let me know what you think. Thanks guys! :)
Center Stage
Emma couldn’t believe that Jake was leaving her. Right before their planned trip to visit her sister too. That was going to take some explaining. Her family loved her but they all knew her drive for her work had the possibility of pushing people away. Stepping from the cab, Emma greeted the bellboy and instructed him to be careful with her Louie. Following him to her suite after checking in, she gave him a generous tip and amazing white smile.
Closing the large wooden door, Emma turned to the small, round entrance table and circled the large flower arrangement in the foyer. The tiny white card was barely visible through the overflowing vase. Moving a large pink rose she plucked it out and opened the fragrant envelope.
Emma,
I regret that things turned out this way. I would love nothing more than to be there with you, but I just can’t. Please think about everything we discussed. I’ll have my things out of the house before you return and have someone come watch Bo.
Jake
Emma set the note calmly next to the bouquet and took three deep breaths. She wanted to pick up the vase and heave it against a wall. Instead, she mentally checked off the reasons to remain cool and stepped away from the table and left the entryway to unpack her bags. Being mad was easier than being hurt. She could deal with anger.
Seeing that the bellboy had already hung her dresses and left her favored Louie on the luggage rack, Emma unzipped it and began hanging the varieties of clothing in the open closet. The suitcase was massive and held a weeks’ worth of outfits easily. It was the first big ticket item Emma had purchased for herself after her initial break on Broadway. When she traveled she wanted to be known as someone important, someone who could have anything on her own. Things she had earned by working hard. Rising out of her parents life in upper-middle class suburbia was Emma’s greatest accomplishment. Her parents had always been supportive and kind but she wanted to make a name for herself. Let that name be known.
Placing her Louie makeup bag on the marble counter in the oversized bathroom, Emma washed her face and dried it on the terry cloth towel. Before dinner she’d expertly reapply the excess color to her lips, eyes and cheeks. She had become a high profile makeup artist on her way to the stage. Makeup and costumes were a large part of becoming a character after all. Talent was the main ingredient though. Emma learned she had talent in her high school’s production of Suzy Q and from then on she did whatever it took, while still maintaining her dignity, to get under those lights. Emma Brooke was meant to entertain.
.....
A knock interrupted her short nap. The bedroom of the Deluxe Suite was softly lit by outside sunlight peeking through the cracks of the heavy red curtains. Emma shifted and stretched under the white duvet. Another knock sounded impatiently on the main door and forced her to rise and pull back the curtains. Slipping on her rose-colored robe, Emma walked from her room to the foyer and opened the dark wood separating her space from the hall.
“Why didn’t you tell me you got in early?!”
Her sister Sarah was already wrapped around her and Emma gave a tight squeeze in return. “I didn’t know I would be and I didn’t want to take you away from work,” Emma assured her sister. Taking Sarah’s hand, Emma walked to the left, opposite of her room, and into the parlor of the suite. “I missed you like crazy!”
“I missed you too. Your play was wonderful. I just love watching you on stage Emma! March was so long ago though. Let’s not go two months without visiting again.”
Emma laughed and hugged her sister again then got down to the business of catching up.
“So give me the scoop on everything. How’s life?”
Even after moving to New York, Sarah was still Emma’s best friend. They had a sibling relationship linked like no one understood. Sarah’s matching white teeth shown back to Emma. She knew her sister was completely unguarded around her. Emma had always wanted more of everything from life and Sarah supported her sister’s ambition and success.
“Things are good. Ryan and I are officially living together as of three weeks ago. Mom is going crazy with wedding plans for the fall and Dad has been bursting with pride to everyone about his two ‘fabulous girls,’” Sarah informed her sister.
Emma flinched at the mention of her father’s pride in them both but it went unnoticed by Sarah, who continued on. “I’m so glad you and Jake were able to come and visit us! Tennessee missed you Emma almost as much as I have…” Sarah trailed off and her brow wrinkled slightly.
“Emma? Where’s Jake? He would’ve come and said hi by now. Isn’t he here?”
“Well,” Emma began to think up a million different scenarios in which Jake could believably be absent, but decided to tell the truth instead. She couldn’t lie to her sister. Besides, no one else would listen the way Sarah would. “Jake isn’t going to be here Sarah. I’m sorry. He sends his best. He’s leaving me.” Tears began to run down her cheeks as Emma finally realized what was happening to her relationship. Thinking back to when the trouble started, she wondered how to explain it to her sister.
.....
Emma met Jake when she was twenty-two years old. Her first lead role on Broadway had its last showing that evening. Emma was never nervous before a production. She took weeks memorizing lines, cues, placements and timing. There was no room for error in her mind so she made preparations to ensure nothing went wrong. She was a lot like her mother in that sense. Acting was more than a career to her, it was what drove her, motivated her, and challenged her. She enjoyed it.
That night when Emma stepped onto the stage, she became Meg. Little Women had been one of her favorite stories as a child. Emma has always had a close sister relationship and could relate to the many characters very well. The evening went off without a hitch and after she changed, Emma walked into the celebration of the after party feeling like a star, with everyone applauding her and cheering at a job well done. Across the room she saw her manager talking to a very attractive man in a trim and elegant suit. He was watching her closely as she moved around the room greeting other actors, the playwright, and financial contributors who were allowed to attend.
“Emma!” her manager, Tony Pierce, called her over as she got closer. “Emma, this is Jake Preston. He works in the Finance Department for the theater. He is responsible for getting us some of our funding so we can perform.”
“Is that so? I guess I have to be nice to you then.” Looking over her bare shoulder, she beckoned to the server. “Would you please get us some champagne? We’re celebrating a success after all!” The room cheered again and Emma turned her laughing face back toward Tony and Jake. “So Jake, do you do anything besides crunch numbers for us?” That wonderfully happy night had been the beginning of more than Emma’s fast growing career, it was the start of hers and Jake’s two year courtship and four year marriage.
.....
Things had been perfect for a long time and looking back Emma wondered if that should have been a sign to her. She continued to star in lead roles all over Broadway during their courtship and marriage while Jake was promoted over the years until he was the head of the Financial Department. Together they attended parties and rubbed elbows.
One evening, after the success of the theater’s latest play, Chicago, Emma and Jake decided to go out and celebrate by renting a limo and treating themselves to a private rooftop dinner in the Glass Dome restaurant. The restaurant was famous for exactly what anybody would think; a clear glass dome over tables and chairs on a rooftop high above New York City under the beautiful night sky. Emma and Jake both had a lovely time and connected in a way that made them feel closer than ever.
“What an adrenaline rush! That was is why I love what I do. Did you hear the people calling my name? ‘Emma! Emma! Emma!’ They really think I’m good!” Emma beamed across the white linen table cloth.
“You are better than good, you’re great. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve come a long way in the last few years. I love you so much Emma. I’m so glad my boss made me go to that party six years ago.”
“Me too. You really swept me off my feet Jake. Waltzing right into my heart with your fast charm and continuous compliments,” she teased.
“What else was I supposed to do? Leave it to chance? Oh no, I had to make an impression,” he stated puffing his chest out like a peacock. “Think I’d let some other guy steal you away?” Pausing, his eyes went far away as he remembered the floor-length, off the shoulder, clingy purple gown. “You were so beautiful.”
“Thank you baby.” She took his hand in middle of the table by the centerpiece and squeezed tight.
She remembered him kissing her palm then they had shared a large warm brownie with a scoop of ice cream and hot fudge. It seemed like such a long time ago. It was a long time ago.
.....
About a year ago, around Emma’s twenty-seventh birthday, small things in their relationship began to shift. Jake wanted her to slow down in accepting big roles and let him take over being the main breadwinner for their small family.
One day he brought home a puppy and let her name it. She picked Bo as the name for the tiny multi-colored hound dog and gave Jake a nervous glance when he said it would be a “test run” for them. Surely Jake remembered their conversation about kids from back when they had been dating? Emma had told him that she really enjoyed kids and that if she ever had a break or decline in her career she would love to have them, but assured him that she was going to ride the gravy train as long as it stopped at the station to let her on board. She had worked toward her acting career as long as she could remember. Emma never really wanted anything besides success. Even finding Jake had been a stroke of luck; she was an independent person and could take care of herself and be happy living alone. The first big fight they had about the possibility of children was still fresh in Emma’s mind.
“Jake, I told you when we were dating that I love my work. I just don’t want kids right now.”
“If not now, then when Emma? Don’t you hear your clock ticking? You are almost thirty.” Emma had never seen such cool, controlled anger in his face before. It startled her that he was that desperate to have a family. She was content with where her life was.
“I’m aware of my age Jake. And I’m also aware of how I like my life to run and I know that I am the one in control of it. If I say I don’t want kids right now, I mean I’m not having kids right now.”
“How much longer are you going to make me wait?”
“I don’t know if I ever want to have kids Jake. Don’t you listen to me?” she snapped back at his calm resolve. “I’ve told you that I don’t know how many times. Getting my name out there and being recognized has always been my goal. Now that people are just starting to really know me, you want me to quit? To walk away? I’m sorry, but it’s not happening. I’m not walking out on my dream.”
“That’s really selfish Emma. I never knew you could be that cruel. I guess I’m learning a lot of new things these days. I’m going on a walk.”
With those last words Jake picked up the puppy and left the room. Emma cried after he left but he never knew because when he returned she was taking a bath, reading a new play. Emma wasn’t trying to be cruel to him; she was just going after her dream. She didn’t understand how the goals of their marriage had shifted without her knowledge. Children were never mentioned before. Their marriage had been about both of them excelling at their work, what made them happy, and now Jake wasn’t happy with her and he was leaving.
.....
“He wants children Sarah. Right now. I don’t so he’s decided to leave me. It’s not like it’s a personal vendetta against me. We still love each other and basically have a good relationship, we just disagree about the future.”
“I know you Emma, so I understand your point of view about your career, but are you sure you don’t want kids? It’s a big decision.”
“Maybe someday, but not right now. I’ve just been offered the possibility of a movie role Sarah. It’s big. I don’t want to turn it down and jeopardize the future positions. If it works out I’m going to take it.”
“What?! Oh that’s wonderful Emma! Did you tell Jake that? Explain to him that you just want to wait another year or so?”
“Yes. He simply said that he’s already 30 and doesn’t want to wait any longer to start a family. He doesn’t understand that I can’t start showing while I’m filming a movie. I don’t know what else to do. There isn’t really a compromise between having a baby and not having a baby. We already have a one year old dog.”
“That’s true Emma, but unruly pets are different than a baby bump.”
“I know that. Tell me what the solution is here Sarah. Is this really a reason to give up my career?”
“Not a reason Emma, the reason if you choose it to be. He’s your husband. You’ve spent the last six years with him every single day. Could you really just let him walk away? I know you love him.”
“We don’t see eye-to-eye on this Sarah. And I’m not letting him walk. He is choosing to go.” Emma was starting to get frustrated with her sister.
“Alright. Alright. Well you know I support you no matter what. What’s your next step?”
“He’s moving his things out while I’m here and I guess he’ll serve me with papers or file for a separation with the city next.”
“Wow Emma. I’m just shocked. I never knew Jake felt that way. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I don’t mind the company.”
“Thanks. I’ll be here for the week, but then I have to get back to Bo.”
.....
Two evenings later, Emma and Sarah were wandering around Beale Street’s Historic District window shopping and waiting until eight o’clock, when their blues concert was beginning at BB King’s Blues Club. They decided to get a few daiquiris at the Coyote Ugly Bar to pass the time and relax.
“Emma!” Sarah waved enthusiastically at her sister down the bar. By chance, two gentlemen had gotten up to pursue the ladies they had been eyeing on the dance floor leaving two barstools open for the sisters to occupy. Sarah settled onto hers waiting for Emma to make her way through the crowd and brushed off an approaching fellow dressed in a suit by picking up her daiquiri in her left hand, flashing the six month old ring that glittered generously there.
“I saw that.” Emma giggled and slid onto her wooden stool taking a tiny sip from her drink.
“You didn’t see anything. I was simply holding the seat for you.”
“Yeah you were. Speaking of gentlemen callers, how is engaged life? It’s only, what, four months until the wedding right?”
“Yep. You got off so lucky being an out-of-town Matron of Honor.” Sarah smirked at her sister. “Mom is happy to do the planning though. And just wait til you see Ryan later! He’s so cute; actually keeping up with the details. Last night, when he got home from work, he asked me if we should get our names monogramed on the drink napkins. It’s adorable.”
“He sure is working a lot lately.”
“Yeah, the new client is kind of picky. I don’t see what the big deal is if the building is twelve stories or fifteen, but Ryan has a knack for it. Sorry you’ve only seen him in passing. I wanted you to stay at our place but we’re still working out what will stay and what will go so there’s boxes everywhere. You’ll see tomorrow when you stop by.”
“Well, as much as I enjoy seeing your fiancé, we both know I’m mainly here to visit you. I don’t know what I’ll do when I get back home in a few days.”
“You’ll call me and tell me all about the fabulous wedding boutiques and their wonderful dresses and how you’ll fly me right up to try them on.”
“I just might have to. I can’t believe that you still haven’t found a dress!”
“I’ve been looking, but there isn’t ‘The One’ yet. I’m holding out for that feeling and I will until the very last second if I have to.”
Shaking her head at her sister, Emma glanced at her small wrist unit and noted the time. “We’d better get going if we want to get good seats. We’re a few blocks away and only have a half hour now.” Finishing off her drink, Emma stood and looked at the suited man still perched in the corner, watching them. “I think he’s waiting to see if you’ve changed your mind.”
“And he can keep on waiting,” Sarah stated and lead the way out of the bar into the night air.
.....
Three weeks later Emma was alone with Bo in the half-empty penthouse back in New York. When she got back two weeks ago from her sister’s, she noticed that Jake had kindly left her all the appliances and old wedding gifts they commonly used. Things like the coffee pot and toaster remained on the counter tops. Only his personal belongings and clothing were gone. He didn’t need any of the furniture yet because he was staying with a buddy until he found a more permanent place. Though they were still speaking with regularity, the topic that had driven them apart was left alone.
Emma felt the spaces unfilled in the rooms and missed Jake. Flipping through the TV channels, Emma sighed deeply and clicked the Off button on the remote causing Bo to look up at her.
“Bo? You wanna come keep me company tonight? Come on boy!” Enticed by adventuring somewhere he generally wasn’t allowed, Bo immediately hopped up on Jake’s side and snuggled into the large goose feather pillow. Emma curled around him remembering that she and Jake had warmed these sheets with love only a month ago. She wondered if they could find a middle ground. Though she was independent, Emma had grown used to coming home to him, taking trips with him, and sharing her life to make it their lives. She fell asleep that night thinking of the past six years and what the next six would be.
.....
Exactly two months were left until her sister’s wedding and Emma was preparing for her opening night by running a last rehearsal with her fellow actors. Promises, Promises was set to be a hit. To her mind everyone would love the “swinging sixties” setting and the Mad Men feel it had. About halfway through the second act, she had a déjà vu feeling when out of the corner of her eye Jake stepped into the theater and settled into the last row stage right. Emma carried on with the performance playing Fran Kubelik, the object of Chuck’s eye in a romantic musical comedy until the curtain call and the all clear. The actors were allowed to retire for a few hours to calm themselves before show time.
“Emma,” Jake called as he walked down the aisle to the stage. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment.”
“Just let me grab a water bottle. I’ll meet you in my room ok?” Emma spoke gently though her insides were twisting. Jake nodded and walked around to the stairs. She didn’t want to know what Jake was going to say. It was probably that he had found a place to live and that the divorce papers were being drawn up. Jake was still Jake; even though they were separated, he’d want her to know beforehand that he was thinking of such things.
She entered the snack room for a water bottle but her stomach overwhelmed her and she headed for the bathroom instead. Splashing cool water on her face and resolving to take some Tums immediately, Emma ended up rushing into a stall instead. Five minutes later, her stomach completely empty, Emma finally made it to her room to talk to Jake.
“Hi. Sorry it took so long.” She walked over to him and gave him a timid hug. “What’s up Jake?”
“Emma, are you alright? You’re very pale.”
“I’m fine. It’s probably just a bug going around. I’ll take something for it. Why did you come?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I miss you. I know we have this disagreement but I’ve built my life around you Emma and now it’s all upside down. I hate staying with Tommy and I miss you and Bo. I came to ask you if there is any way we can work things out now. We’ve each had some time, a lot of time, to breathe and think and I want your opinion. I want to know what you want.”
“Jake,” Emma paused thinking of how to phrase what she was about to say and to catch her breath from the unexpected words. “I’ve missed you too. I would love for you to come home, but how are we going to compromise? We can’t just ignore that we want two different things.”
“Oh, I was hoping you had considered my side some more. Emma, what is it going to take? When are you going to want this?”
“I don’t know that I ever will. I’m happy where I am…” Emma trailed off and closed her mouth as more nausea moved into her belly. Jake took her lack of words as a close to the short conversation and nodded again, briskly and tight-lipped. Emma’s face fell at his hurt look and she took a deep breathe to speak. “Jake, let’s just see where we are in a few months. After this play I’ll either be offered a contract for the movie or I won’t. Can we make a decision then? After Sarah’s wedding?”
“It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice I guess. I’ll wait for your decision Emma, but not any longer. After your sister’s wedding, you make a choice and be sure it’s one you can live with.” He turned to leave but as his hand touched the knob of the door, he turned back to face her. “Emma, I just want you to know that you still have everything. You really do shine best on the stage.”
“Thank you Jake. That means a lot.” She watched him walk out the door leaving her behind for a second time about the same topic.
.....
The play went off without a hitch, as it always did. Emma called her sister at eleven when she got back to the apartment to tell her all about it. Afterwards they talked about the finalities of the wedding, Sarah had finally chosen a dress, and the conversation Emma and Jake had had that morning. On the phone Sarah kept hearing a loud crunching noise in solid increments. It baffled her enough to finally ask before hanging up.
“Emma, what in God’s name are you eating? It’s been driving me crazy.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you could hear it. It’s the new flavor of Sun Chips. Guess the bag is as loud as they say.”
“Sun chips? You hate chips. You always say they should be banned and the world will be rid of heart attacks.”
“I know but on the way home I just wanted something crunchy and they really aren’t that bad.”
“Anything else you’ve been eating that’s new?” Sarah’s voice had taken on a deadly still tone but Emma hadn’t yet caught on.
“Not really… Actually, yes. I had a Meat Lovers calzone yesterday. I just felt like trying something new. Maybe that’s why my stomach was upset this morning.”
“Your stomach was upset this morning? What do you mean?”
“Well, when Jake came to talk I felt clammy so I went to splash water on my face but I got sick. I was fine by lunch though.”
“When’s the last time you and Jake slept together?”
“That’s random. If you’re asking me if I’m sleeping with anyone else, the answer is no Sarah.”
“It’s not that. Just tell me.”
“Uhm, about two months ago I think. What’s wrong with you?”
“Emma. Listen to me. You need to get your coat back on and find a twenty-four hour drug store right now.”
“Why? What’s the matter with you? You sound all James Bond-ish.”
“Emma. Think carefully. You are craving foods you don’t normally eat, you are feeling sick in the morning, and you and Jake were last together about two months ago. Have you had your period?”
“Of course I have!” A long pause followed. “No. No I haven’t. I was going to go to the doctor because I thought something might have been wrong. Normally it’s at least four days but two weeks ago it was only one. I thought it was funny. Oh crap. Oh crap Sarah!”
“Calm down Emma, calm down. Go to the drugstore Emma. I’ll be right here. I’m in for the night. Go get a test and call me back. I can come if you need me to. Just let me know.”
“Ok. Ok.” Emma breathed deeply and tried to calm her suddenly panicked mind. “I’m going. There’s a store three blocks from here. I’ll call you back in a half hour. I’m freaking out a little right now.”
“I know hun. Don’t worry. It’ll work out. Let’s not react until we know the truth.”
“Ok,” Emma repeated again, clearly shocked. “I’m going. I’ll call you back.”
.....
Half an hour later Emma was back in the apartment yet again and closed in the bathroom alone. Bo was lying outside the door whimpering occasionally. Emma’s shaking hands pulled the tab of the box as she listened to her sister’s rhythmic breathing through the speaker of the phone. Inhaling deeply and tearing at the wrapper Emma addressed Sarah. “I really hope Ryan isn’t listening to this.”
“He’s not. I left him in the bedroom and came into the kitchen. You ok?”
“I’m holding up. Here goes nothing.” Emma crouched over the toilet and held the thin plastic stick in her stream of pee for ten seconds then removed it and replaced the cap back on it, setting it on the rim of the sink. “Ok. The box says to wait for four minutes then it’ll read out the answer.”
“That’s how it goes. Want to talk about anything while we wait?”
“I think I’m going to go get a drink really quick. Want to wait here or come with me?”
“I’ll wait here. You’re on speaker too and I’m going to grab a snack. I need to do something with my hands.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back.”
Emma opened the door, stepped over Bo, and walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Taking a glass from the cabinet and she filled it with water from the tap. Emma drank it slowly and then refilled it and drank again. Setting the glass in the left side of the sink, she inhaled and walked down the hall back toward the bathroom.
“You there sis?” Emma asked the phone on the counter while standing in the doorway.
“Yeah I’m here.”
“I’m going to look at it now.”
“Alright. Remember I’m right here.”
Emma stepped into the room and walked the eight feet to the test still sitting on the rim of the sink. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she exhaled and opened them looking into the mirror.
“Emma?”
“I’m ok. I’m ok.” Emma looked down to the sink and nearly dropped to the floor. The pregnancy test read Not Pregnant.
Center Stage
Emma couldn’t believe that Jake was leaving her. Right before their planned trip to visit her sister too. That was going to take some explaining. Her family loved her but they all knew her drive for her work had the possibility of pushing people away. Stepping from the cab, Emma greeted the bellboy and instructed him to be careful with her Louie. Following him to her suite after checking in, she gave him a generous tip and amazing white smile.
Closing the large wooden door, Emma turned to the small, round entrance table and circled the large flower arrangement in the foyer. The tiny white card was barely visible through the overflowing vase. Moving a large pink rose she plucked it out and opened the fragrant envelope.
Emma,
I regret that things turned out this way. I would love nothing more than to be there with you, but I just can’t. Please think about everything we discussed. I’ll have my things out of the house before you return and have someone come watch Bo.
Jake
Emma set the note calmly next to the bouquet and took three deep breaths. She wanted to pick up the vase and heave it against a wall. Instead, she mentally checked off the reasons to remain cool and stepped away from the table and left the entryway to unpack her bags. Being mad was easier than being hurt. She could deal with anger.
Seeing that the bellboy had already hung her dresses and left her favored Louie on the luggage rack, Emma unzipped it and began hanging the varieties of clothing in the open closet. The suitcase was massive and held a weeks’ worth of outfits easily. It was the first big ticket item Emma had purchased for herself after her initial break on Broadway. When she traveled she wanted to be known as someone important, someone who could have anything on her own. Things she had earned by working hard. Rising out of her parents life in upper-middle class suburbia was Emma’s greatest accomplishment. Her parents had always been supportive and kind but she wanted to make a name for herself. Let that name be known.
Placing her Louie makeup bag on the marble counter in the oversized bathroom, Emma washed her face and dried it on the terry cloth towel. Before dinner she’d expertly reapply the excess color to her lips, eyes and cheeks. She had become a high profile makeup artist on her way to the stage. Makeup and costumes were a large part of becoming a character after all. Talent was the main ingredient though. Emma learned she had talent in her high school’s production of Suzy Q and from then on she did whatever it took, while still maintaining her dignity, to get under those lights. Emma Brooke was meant to entertain.
.....
A knock interrupted her short nap. The bedroom of the Deluxe Suite was softly lit by outside sunlight peeking through the cracks of the heavy red curtains. Emma shifted and stretched under the white duvet. Another knock sounded impatiently on the main door and forced her to rise and pull back the curtains. Slipping on her rose-colored robe, Emma walked from her room to the foyer and opened the dark wood separating her space from the hall.
“Why didn’t you tell me you got in early?!”
Her sister Sarah was already wrapped around her and Emma gave a tight squeeze in return. “I didn’t know I would be and I didn’t want to take you away from work,” Emma assured her sister. Taking Sarah’s hand, Emma walked to the left, opposite of her room, and into the parlor of the suite. “I missed you like crazy!”
“I missed you too. Your play was wonderful. I just love watching you on stage Emma! March was so long ago though. Let’s not go two months without visiting again.”
Emma laughed and hugged her sister again then got down to the business of catching up.
“So give me the scoop on everything. How’s life?”
Even after moving to New York, Sarah was still Emma’s best friend. They had a sibling relationship linked like no one understood. Sarah’s matching white teeth shown back to Emma. She knew her sister was completely unguarded around her. Emma had always wanted more of everything from life and Sarah supported her sister’s ambition and success.
“Things are good. Ryan and I are officially living together as of three weeks ago. Mom is going crazy with wedding plans for the fall and Dad has been bursting with pride to everyone about his two ‘fabulous girls,’” Sarah informed her sister.
Emma flinched at the mention of her father’s pride in them both but it went unnoticed by Sarah, who continued on. “I’m so glad you and Jake were able to come and visit us! Tennessee missed you Emma almost as much as I have…” Sarah trailed off and her brow wrinkled slightly.
“Emma? Where’s Jake? He would’ve come and said hi by now. Isn’t he here?”
“Well,” Emma began to think up a million different scenarios in which Jake could believably be absent, but decided to tell the truth instead. She couldn’t lie to her sister. Besides, no one else would listen the way Sarah would. “Jake isn’t going to be here Sarah. I’m sorry. He sends his best. He’s leaving me.” Tears began to run down her cheeks as Emma finally realized what was happening to her relationship. Thinking back to when the trouble started, she wondered how to explain it to her sister.
.....
Emma met Jake when she was twenty-two years old. Her first lead role on Broadway had its last showing that evening. Emma was never nervous before a production. She took weeks memorizing lines, cues, placements and timing. There was no room for error in her mind so she made preparations to ensure nothing went wrong. She was a lot like her mother in that sense. Acting was more than a career to her, it was what drove her, motivated her, and challenged her. She enjoyed it.
That night when Emma stepped onto the stage, she became Meg. Little Women had been one of her favorite stories as a child. Emma has always had a close sister relationship and could relate to the many characters very well. The evening went off without a hitch and after she changed, Emma walked into the celebration of the after party feeling like a star, with everyone applauding her and cheering at a job well done. Across the room she saw her manager talking to a very attractive man in a trim and elegant suit. He was watching her closely as she moved around the room greeting other actors, the playwright, and financial contributors who were allowed to attend.
“Emma!” her manager, Tony Pierce, called her over as she got closer. “Emma, this is Jake Preston. He works in the Finance Department for the theater. He is responsible for getting us some of our funding so we can perform.”
“Is that so? I guess I have to be nice to you then.” Looking over her bare shoulder, she beckoned to the server. “Would you please get us some champagne? We’re celebrating a success after all!” The room cheered again and Emma turned her laughing face back toward Tony and Jake. “So Jake, do you do anything besides crunch numbers for us?” That wonderfully happy night had been the beginning of more than Emma’s fast growing career, it was the start of hers and Jake’s two year courtship and four year marriage.
.....
Things had been perfect for a long time and looking back Emma wondered if that should have been a sign to her. She continued to star in lead roles all over Broadway during their courtship and marriage while Jake was promoted over the years until he was the head of the Financial Department. Together they attended parties and rubbed elbows.
One evening, after the success of the theater’s latest play, Chicago, Emma and Jake decided to go out and celebrate by renting a limo and treating themselves to a private rooftop dinner in the Glass Dome restaurant. The restaurant was famous for exactly what anybody would think; a clear glass dome over tables and chairs on a rooftop high above New York City under the beautiful night sky. Emma and Jake both had a lovely time and connected in a way that made them feel closer than ever.
“What an adrenaline rush! That was is why I love what I do. Did you hear the people calling my name? ‘Emma! Emma! Emma!’ They really think I’m good!” Emma beamed across the white linen table cloth.
“You are better than good, you’re great. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve come a long way in the last few years. I love you so much Emma. I’m so glad my boss made me go to that party six years ago.”
“Me too. You really swept me off my feet Jake. Waltzing right into my heart with your fast charm and continuous compliments,” she teased.
“What else was I supposed to do? Leave it to chance? Oh no, I had to make an impression,” he stated puffing his chest out like a peacock. “Think I’d let some other guy steal you away?” Pausing, his eyes went far away as he remembered the floor-length, off the shoulder, clingy purple gown. “You were so beautiful.”
“Thank you baby.” She took his hand in middle of the table by the centerpiece and squeezed tight.
She remembered him kissing her palm then they had shared a large warm brownie with a scoop of ice cream and hot fudge. It seemed like such a long time ago. It was a long time ago.
.....
About a year ago, around Emma’s twenty-seventh birthday, small things in their relationship began to shift. Jake wanted her to slow down in accepting big roles and let him take over being the main breadwinner for their small family.
One day he brought home a puppy and let her name it. She picked Bo as the name for the tiny multi-colored hound dog and gave Jake a nervous glance when he said it would be a “test run” for them. Surely Jake remembered their conversation about kids from back when they had been dating? Emma had told him that she really enjoyed kids and that if she ever had a break or decline in her career she would love to have them, but assured him that she was going to ride the gravy train as long as it stopped at the station to let her on board. She had worked toward her acting career as long as she could remember. Emma never really wanted anything besides success. Even finding Jake had been a stroke of luck; she was an independent person and could take care of herself and be happy living alone. The first big fight they had about the possibility of children was still fresh in Emma’s mind.
“Jake, I told you when we were dating that I love my work. I just don’t want kids right now.”
“If not now, then when Emma? Don’t you hear your clock ticking? You are almost thirty.” Emma had never seen such cool, controlled anger in his face before. It startled her that he was that desperate to have a family. She was content with where her life was.
“I’m aware of my age Jake. And I’m also aware of how I like my life to run and I know that I am the one in control of it. If I say I don’t want kids right now, I mean I’m not having kids right now.”
“How much longer are you going to make me wait?”
“I don’t know if I ever want to have kids Jake. Don’t you listen to me?” she snapped back at his calm resolve. “I’ve told you that I don’t know how many times. Getting my name out there and being recognized has always been my goal. Now that people are just starting to really know me, you want me to quit? To walk away? I’m sorry, but it’s not happening. I’m not walking out on my dream.”
“That’s really selfish Emma. I never knew you could be that cruel. I guess I’m learning a lot of new things these days. I’m going on a walk.”
With those last words Jake picked up the puppy and left the room. Emma cried after he left but he never knew because when he returned she was taking a bath, reading a new play. Emma wasn’t trying to be cruel to him; she was just going after her dream. She didn’t understand how the goals of their marriage had shifted without her knowledge. Children were never mentioned before. Their marriage had been about both of them excelling at their work, what made them happy, and now Jake wasn’t happy with her and he was leaving.
.....
“He wants children Sarah. Right now. I don’t so he’s decided to leave me. It’s not like it’s a personal vendetta against me. We still love each other and basically have a good relationship, we just disagree about the future.”
“I know you Emma, so I understand your point of view about your career, but are you sure you don’t want kids? It’s a big decision.”
“Maybe someday, but not right now. I’ve just been offered the possibility of a movie role Sarah. It’s big. I don’t want to turn it down and jeopardize the future positions. If it works out I’m going to take it.”
“What?! Oh that’s wonderful Emma! Did you tell Jake that? Explain to him that you just want to wait another year or so?”
“Yes. He simply said that he’s already 30 and doesn’t want to wait any longer to start a family. He doesn’t understand that I can’t start showing while I’m filming a movie. I don’t know what else to do. There isn’t really a compromise between having a baby and not having a baby. We already have a one year old dog.”
“That’s true Emma, but unruly pets are different than a baby bump.”
“I know that. Tell me what the solution is here Sarah. Is this really a reason to give up my career?”
“Not a reason Emma, the reason if you choose it to be. He’s your husband. You’ve spent the last six years with him every single day. Could you really just let him walk away? I know you love him.”
“We don’t see eye-to-eye on this Sarah. And I’m not letting him walk. He is choosing to go.” Emma was starting to get frustrated with her sister.
“Alright. Alright. Well you know I support you no matter what. What’s your next step?”
“He’s moving his things out while I’m here and I guess he’ll serve me with papers or file for a separation with the city next.”
“Wow Emma. I’m just shocked. I never knew Jake felt that way. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I don’t mind the company.”
“Thanks. I’ll be here for the week, but then I have to get back to Bo.”
.....
Two evenings later, Emma and Sarah were wandering around Beale Street’s Historic District window shopping and waiting until eight o’clock, when their blues concert was beginning at BB King’s Blues Club. They decided to get a few daiquiris at the Coyote Ugly Bar to pass the time and relax.
“Emma!” Sarah waved enthusiastically at her sister down the bar. By chance, two gentlemen had gotten up to pursue the ladies they had been eyeing on the dance floor leaving two barstools open for the sisters to occupy. Sarah settled onto hers waiting for Emma to make her way through the crowd and brushed off an approaching fellow dressed in a suit by picking up her daiquiri in her left hand, flashing the six month old ring that glittered generously there.
“I saw that.” Emma giggled and slid onto her wooden stool taking a tiny sip from her drink.
“You didn’t see anything. I was simply holding the seat for you.”
“Yeah you were. Speaking of gentlemen callers, how is engaged life? It’s only, what, four months until the wedding right?”
“Yep. You got off so lucky being an out-of-town Matron of Honor.” Sarah smirked at her sister. “Mom is happy to do the planning though. And just wait til you see Ryan later! He’s so cute; actually keeping up with the details. Last night, when he got home from work, he asked me if we should get our names monogramed on the drink napkins. It’s adorable.”
“He sure is working a lot lately.”
“Yeah, the new client is kind of picky. I don’t see what the big deal is if the building is twelve stories or fifteen, but Ryan has a knack for it. Sorry you’ve only seen him in passing. I wanted you to stay at our place but we’re still working out what will stay and what will go so there’s boxes everywhere. You’ll see tomorrow when you stop by.”
“Well, as much as I enjoy seeing your fiancé, we both know I’m mainly here to visit you. I don’t know what I’ll do when I get back home in a few days.”
“You’ll call me and tell me all about the fabulous wedding boutiques and their wonderful dresses and how you’ll fly me right up to try them on.”
“I just might have to. I can’t believe that you still haven’t found a dress!”
“I’ve been looking, but there isn’t ‘The One’ yet. I’m holding out for that feeling and I will until the very last second if I have to.”
Shaking her head at her sister, Emma glanced at her small wrist unit and noted the time. “We’d better get going if we want to get good seats. We’re a few blocks away and only have a half hour now.” Finishing off her drink, Emma stood and looked at the suited man still perched in the corner, watching them. “I think he’s waiting to see if you’ve changed your mind.”
“And he can keep on waiting,” Sarah stated and lead the way out of the bar into the night air.
.....
Three weeks later Emma was alone with Bo in the half-empty penthouse back in New York. When she got back two weeks ago from her sister’s, she noticed that Jake had kindly left her all the appliances and old wedding gifts they commonly used. Things like the coffee pot and toaster remained on the counter tops. Only his personal belongings and clothing were gone. He didn’t need any of the furniture yet because he was staying with a buddy until he found a more permanent place. Though they were still speaking with regularity, the topic that had driven them apart was left alone.
Emma felt the spaces unfilled in the rooms and missed Jake. Flipping through the TV channels, Emma sighed deeply and clicked the Off button on the remote causing Bo to look up at her.
“Bo? You wanna come keep me company tonight? Come on boy!” Enticed by adventuring somewhere he generally wasn’t allowed, Bo immediately hopped up on Jake’s side and snuggled into the large goose feather pillow. Emma curled around him remembering that she and Jake had warmed these sheets with love only a month ago. She wondered if they could find a middle ground. Though she was independent, Emma had grown used to coming home to him, taking trips with him, and sharing her life to make it their lives. She fell asleep that night thinking of the past six years and what the next six would be.
.....
Exactly two months were left until her sister’s wedding and Emma was preparing for her opening night by running a last rehearsal with her fellow actors. Promises, Promises was set to be a hit. To her mind everyone would love the “swinging sixties” setting and the Mad Men feel it had. About halfway through the second act, she had a déjà vu feeling when out of the corner of her eye Jake stepped into the theater and settled into the last row stage right. Emma carried on with the performance playing Fran Kubelik, the object of Chuck’s eye in a romantic musical comedy until the curtain call and the all clear. The actors were allowed to retire for a few hours to calm themselves before show time.
“Emma,” Jake called as he walked down the aisle to the stage. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment.”
“Just let me grab a water bottle. I’ll meet you in my room ok?” Emma spoke gently though her insides were twisting. Jake nodded and walked around to the stairs. She didn’t want to know what Jake was going to say. It was probably that he had found a place to live and that the divorce papers were being drawn up. Jake was still Jake; even though they were separated, he’d want her to know beforehand that he was thinking of such things.
She entered the snack room for a water bottle but her stomach overwhelmed her and she headed for the bathroom instead. Splashing cool water on her face and resolving to take some Tums immediately, Emma ended up rushing into a stall instead. Five minutes later, her stomach completely empty, Emma finally made it to her room to talk to Jake.
“Hi. Sorry it took so long.” She walked over to him and gave him a timid hug. “What’s up Jake?”
“Emma, are you alright? You’re very pale.”
“I’m fine. It’s probably just a bug going around. I’ll take something for it. Why did you come?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I miss you. I know we have this disagreement but I’ve built my life around you Emma and now it’s all upside down. I hate staying with Tommy and I miss you and Bo. I came to ask you if there is any way we can work things out now. We’ve each had some time, a lot of time, to breathe and think and I want your opinion. I want to know what you want.”
“Jake,” Emma paused thinking of how to phrase what she was about to say and to catch her breath from the unexpected words. “I’ve missed you too. I would love for you to come home, but how are we going to compromise? We can’t just ignore that we want two different things.”
“Oh, I was hoping you had considered my side some more. Emma, what is it going to take? When are you going to want this?”
“I don’t know that I ever will. I’m happy where I am…” Emma trailed off and closed her mouth as more nausea moved into her belly. Jake took her lack of words as a close to the short conversation and nodded again, briskly and tight-lipped. Emma’s face fell at his hurt look and she took a deep breathe to speak. “Jake, let’s just see where we are in a few months. After this play I’ll either be offered a contract for the movie or I won’t. Can we make a decision then? After Sarah’s wedding?”
“It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice I guess. I’ll wait for your decision Emma, but not any longer. After your sister’s wedding, you make a choice and be sure it’s one you can live with.” He turned to leave but as his hand touched the knob of the door, he turned back to face her. “Emma, I just want you to know that you still have everything. You really do shine best on the stage.”
“Thank you Jake. That means a lot.” She watched him walk out the door leaving her behind for a second time about the same topic.
.....
The play went off without a hitch, as it always did. Emma called her sister at eleven when she got back to the apartment to tell her all about it. Afterwards they talked about the finalities of the wedding, Sarah had finally chosen a dress, and the conversation Emma and Jake had had that morning. On the phone Sarah kept hearing a loud crunching noise in solid increments. It baffled her enough to finally ask before hanging up.
“Emma, what in God’s name are you eating? It’s been driving me crazy.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you could hear it. It’s the new flavor of Sun Chips. Guess the bag is as loud as they say.”
“Sun chips? You hate chips. You always say they should be banned and the world will be rid of heart attacks.”
“I know but on the way home I just wanted something crunchy and they really aren’t that bad.”
“Anything else you’ve been eating that’s new?” Sarah’s voice had taken on a deadly still tone but Emma hadn’t yet caught on.
“Not really… Actually, yes. I had a Meat Lovers calzone yesterday. I just felt like trying something new. Maybe that’s why my stomach was upset this morning.”
“Your stomach was upset this morning? What do you mean?”
“Well, when Jake came to talk I felt clammy so I went to splash water on my face but I got sick. I was fine by lunch though.”
“When’s the last time you and Jake slept together?”
“That’s random. If you’re asking me if I’m sleeping with anyone else, the answer is no Sarah.”
“It’s not that. Just tell me.”
“Uhm, about two months ago I think. What’s wrong with you?”
“Emma. Listen to me. You need to get your coat back on and find a twenty-four hour drug store right now.”
“Why? What’s the matter with you? You sound all James Bond-ish.”
“Emma. Think carefully. You are craving foods you don’t normally eat, you are feeling sick in the morning, and you and Jake were last together about two months ago. Have you had your period?”
“Of course I have!” A long pause followed. “No. No I haven’t. I was going to go to the doctor because I thought something might have been wrong. Normally it’s at least four days but two weeks ago it was only one. I thought it was funny. Oh crap. Oh crap Sarah!”
“Calm down Emma, calm down. Go to the drugstore Emma. I’ll be right here. I’m in for the night. Go get a test and call me back. I can come if you need me to. Just let me know.”
“Ok. Ok.” Emma breathed deeply and tried to calm her suddenly panicked mind. “I’m going. There’s a store three blocks from here. I’ll call you back in a half hour. I’m freaking out a little right now.”
“I know hun. Don’t worry. It’ll work out. Let’s not react until we know the truth.”
“Ok,” Emma repeated again, clearly shocked. “I’m going. I’ll call you back.”
.....
Half an hour later Emma was back in the apartment yet again and closed in the bathroom alone. Bo was lying outside the door whimpering occasionally. Emma’s shaking hands pulled the tab of the box as she listened to her sister’s rhythmic breathing through the speaker of the phone. Inhaling deeply and tearing at the wrapper Emma addressed Sarah. “I really hope Ryan isn’t listening to this.”
“He’s not. I left him in the bedroom and came into the kitchen. You ok?”
“I’m holding up. Here goes nothing.” Emma crouched over the toilet and held the thin plastic stick in her stream of pee for ten seconds then removed it and replaced the cap back on it, setting it on the rim of the sink. “Ok. The box says to wait for four minutes then it’ll read out the answer.”
“That’s how it goes. Want to talk about anything while we wait?”
“I think I’m going to go get a drink really quick. Want to wait here or come with me?”
“I’ll wait here. You’re on speaker too and I’m going to grab a snack. I need to do something with my hands.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back.”
Emma opened the door, stepped over Bo, and walked down the hall and into the kitchen. Taking a glass from the cabinet and she filled it with water from the tap. Emma drank it slowly and then refilled it and drank again. Setting the glass in the left side of the sink, she inhaled and walked down the hall back toward the bathroom.
“You there sis?” Emma asked the phone on the counter while standing in the doorway.
“Yeah I’m here.”
“I’m going to look at it now.”
“Alright. Remember I’m right here.”
Emma stepped into the room and walked the eight feet to the test still sitting on the rim of the sink. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she exhaled and opened them looking into the mirror.
“Emma?”
“I’m ok. I’m ok.” Emma looked down to the sink and nearly dropped to the floor. The pregnancy test read Not Pregnant.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tiny Rainbow Socks
Today, I took the long route around the inside of Target. It's a bad habit I've developed the last few years. Wandering around mostly aimlessly in some of my free time while looking at the clearance isles to see what great bargins I can find for the house, or myself. Today however, I went the long long way around...
Walking straight ahead through the double doors and into the women's clothing department, I found a gray button-up shirt that was only $10. But I talked myself out of it. No need to spend $10 when I could save it instead. Then I wandered through the shoe section and marveled at how high heals could actually get and that women choose to wear them everyday. Moving into the lingerie department I marveled at very colorful bras on sale. Only $6 each! But I talked myself out of them and mosied on...
Right into the infant and toddler section.
Internally "oohing" and "awing" at the tiny jumpsuits and sweaters recently set out, I decided to price check how much baby stuff really is since people often complain about expenses when they have new borns. I stopped and looked at the prices of various high chairs, cribs, strollers and car seats. I smiled at the moms with their happy little ones in buggies and waved as tiny faces looked at me. I decided that Josh and I are definitely having kids in a few years and then I saw them. The tiny rainbow socks so obviously made for a newborn girl. Only a dollar. I picked them up and grinned stupidly at their insane smallness. Tiny rainbow socks made for a newborn girl for only a dollar. Silly as it was, I put them in my basket and bought them.
I definitely want kids. As bad as times can be, I think of mine and my mom's relationship and the childhood years of dress up, Barbie's, and sibling fights and I know it's worth it. One day, Josh will be a great dad and I will be a great mom.
Walking straight ahead through the double doors and into the women's clothing department, I found a gray button-up shirt that was only $10. But I talked myself out of it. No need to spend $10 when I could save it instead. Then I wandered through the shoe section and marveled at how high heals could actually get and that women choose to wear them everyday. Moving into the lingerie department I marveled at very colorful bras on sale. Only $6 each! But I talked myself out of them and mosied on...
Right into the infant and toddler section.
Internally "oohing" and "awing" at the tiny jumpsuits and sweaters recently set out, I decided to price check how much baby stuff really is since people often complain about expenses when they have new borns. I stopped and looked at the prices of various high chairs, cribs, strollers and car seats. I smiled at the moms with their happy little ones in buggies and waved as tiny faces looked at me. I decided that Josh and I are definitely having kids in a few years and then I saw them. The tiny rainbow socks so obviously made for a newborn girl. Only a dollar. I picked them up and grinned stupidly at their insane smallness. Tiny rainbow socks made for a newborn girl for only a dollar. Silly as it was, I put them in my basket and bought them.
I definitely want kids. As bad as times can be, I think of mine and my mom's relationship and the childhood years of dress up, Barbie's, and sibling fights and I know it's worth it. One day, Josh will be a great dad and I will be a great mom.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Change The World, Start With You
This video portrays how both men and women are treated socially after the effects of media on our population here in America. We need to stand together and stop the things our children are growing up to see. Remember, the average watcher of music videos in today's society is age 12. Do you want your son, daughter, niece, nephew, neighborhood kid, or grocery bagger to portray these types of people? Start working towards a change. Watch this video and pass it on to others. Show the members of your book club, church, or PTA. Help begin the change.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDMo5cIJN3A&feature=fvsr
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDMo5cIJN3A&feature=fvsr
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Firefighter Becomes Engineer! (Part 2)
Engineer Joshua Graham with his wife, Amanda Graham, and his mother, Chief Ann Graham. So proud! :D
Firefighter Becomes Engineer!
Today was Josh's badge pinning promotion ceremony at North Charleston City Hall! I'm so proud of him and wanted to post some pictures from the moment. Yay Engineer Graham!
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Storm
Hello everyone! I just finished the first draft of my first short story this year and wanted to share it. It's fiction based on reality, meaning I took what I know and wrote a story based on it. It comes to about 14 pages on my Word Processor so make sure you have time to finish it. Also, I would love some constructive critism. Love you all!
The Storm
It was the morning of the anniversary of 9/11 and the radio weatherman was promising a few showers due to the hurricane coming up the coast, a few drops of which fell on the windshield as Anna headed home from the grocery store. The brown paper bags in the backseat were bursting with bacon, eggs, loafs of bread, sausage, butter, jam, syrup and ingredients for pancake mix. As she turned onto her street, Anna noticed the several American flags flapping on the paneled houses surrounding her, meaning that many of her neighbors remembered the events that had passed 9 years ago on this day. Today, in remembrance of the firefighters, police personnel, and many citizens who lost their lives, there would be parades, meals and gatherings in their honor. Despite the cooler temperature this year and the predicted coming showers, nothing had been canceled yet. Hopefully it'll stay that way, Anna prayed as she pulled into her drive.
About a half hour later, groceries in their right places, Anna stirred the frying pan full of eggs, and glanced out the kitchen window and noted by the heavy black clouds rolling into place, that the weatherman had been right about the hurricane off the coast rolling in. John, Anna's husband, and some of the guys from the fire station were due home any minute and Anna planned to treat them with a big breakfast.
Moving around the kitchen she loved as if she could do it in her sleep, Anna made not one error stepping over their two dogs to get to the organized fridge for the grape Smucker's jam and the butter she would lavishly spread over her toast. Anna loved to cook and bake; especially for people. She had the innate talent to look at a recipe, make a few adjustments of her own, and create a fabulous, well, whatever she had made. The firefighters at her husband's station loved her baked goods. Birthdays, holidays and special requests were always mentioned or hinted at in the hopes that Anna's big heart would tempt her to bake a wonderfully decorated cake, or a batch of original cookies, or some other dessert. Most of the time it worked too and Anna would cave and spend a few hours in front of her stove.
The dogs, hearing a distant engine, scrambled up from the rugs on the kitchen floor and raced to the front windows in the formal dining room. All around the house the blinds were always slightly lifted so they could see out of the low windows to greet passerby with a bark, or rush to the window holding a stuffed animal, tails wiggling happily. John entered the house first, and kissed Anna warmly as she met him at the door then stepped aside to let the others in. As the men and their families walked into the house, Jackson, the 3 year old black lab, began to bark and wiggle then raced off to grab his stuffed brown moose, his favorite toy, so he could wrestle with the kids. Rocky, the six month old puppy, overcome by his love of people wasn't really sure what to do, but hurried from person to person licking hands in hello.
In a pack not very different than a small football team, the guys crowded into the kitchen in front of Anna then turned at the sight of the food and gave her quick hugs and raised eyebrows before shifting automatically into a line, ready to consume the masses she had prepared. The women who had children helped them carry their plates along the long counter and they all slowly moved past the warm eggs, steaming piles of sausage and bacon, gently built houses of toast, and delicate stacks of homemade pancakes; each depleting slightly with every passing person. Settling around the table on additional mix-matched chairs, standing at the bar, or sitting in the living room, the group fell silent and looked to John to say a few words about the reason for their morning gathering before the meal was eaten.
“We're here this morning to remember the brothers and sisters we lost in a horrible incident nine years ago this time today,” John began addressing the solemn faces looking at him. “It's important to pay our respects to the people whose bravery and heart in their actions helped this nation see that we should each care for our neighbor selflessly. We should rise each morning with the idea in mind to do something kind for a stranger. We should work to improve the lives surrounding us, and make them happier if we can. I don't want today to become something sad though. Instead, I believe we should all be proud to live and work in this country. Paying tribute and keeping in our hearts those we lost should only be part of what today is about. The other part should be keeping up that tradition. Which I know we all will. Now, thank you Lord for providing us with this meal and my gorgeous wife to cook it for us. Let's eat it before it gets cold.” Anna smiled at John and took her place near him at the table.
Sitting on her right, Mike looked over at Anna, a mischievous look in his eye as he said, “John's right ya know, ya are gorgeous,” in that deep Southern drawl he had. Anna smiled at him squinting her eyes slightly as she pointed out that she was already married.
“Bein' married doesn't mean a woman can't hear she's purdy. In fact, she ought ta be told daily,” Mike proclaimed digging into his stack of pancakes. Mike's wife had passed away a few years ago and though no one really knew his age, it didn't seem to matter. He had the heart of a thirty-year-old and was very fit for however old he was from being a firefighter all his life.
To the background of chitter-chatter and silverware clinking, the household radio, not to mention several on the men's hips, squawked with the dispatchers voices sending out test tones for the morning shift. As Anna finished her plate and stood to refill orange juice glasses and cups of coffee, the sky opened up. It kind of sounded like a percussion band was playing lightly on the roof. Instantly the small children playing with the dogs on the living room floor moaned. In their minds the festivities of the parades filled with balloons, tossed candy and floats had come to a screeching halt.
Anna loved children but sadly couldn't have any herself. John was devastated when they heard the news. She quickly got out the coloring books for them from her secret drawer in the kitchen and moved the photo albums from the coffee table for a work space.
“Gonna be a shit storm,” Mike muttered.
“Maybe,” John replied. “Wonder if they'll continue on with all the plans for today? I'm gonna turn on the weather channel and see what they say.” He rose and moved into the living room near the TV. The guys excused themselves, stood and followed. After a click and a series of button pushing, John, Mike, Curtis, Nick, Ben and Andrew all stood in front of the big screen waiting for the latest on the storm while Sarah, Beth, Tracy and Olivia gave Anna a hand cleaning up the dishes and loading them into the washer.
“The tropical storm has quickly advanced to a Category Three Hurricane. Though it was supposed to continue up the East coast and strike the Northern part of the United States, James has taken a large left turn and looks to hit us dead on. We would like to advise everyone that winds and rain with this storm are very powerful. Hurricane James is expected to reach Charleston fully within two hours. We are encouraging everyone to take this very seriously. All activities and parades planned for today have been canceled. Please remain indoors and take extreme caution when traveling anywhere. If you have the ability to leave, an evacuation is advised but not yet mandatory...” the weatherman was heard through-out the household as everyone stopped and listened.
“Time to go earn some overtime,” Mike smiled and picked up his coat from the front door. John switched the TV off and walked into the kitchen to talk to Anna just as the women came out and began gathering up coats and little ones.
“Thanks for coming everyone. Be safe driving home ladies and we'll see you at the station in a few guys. I think Anna and I will head over to lend an extra hand.” John said more goodbyes and closed the door securely blocking out the roar of the pounding rain.
Closing the last cabinet, Anna turned as John's boots stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. “We heading in?” she casually asked.
“Yep, I think so. You know it'll be chaotic with traffic once the rain hits downtown,” John smiled.
“And people are stupid when they shouldn't be,” Anna added what he left out. “I'll run upstairs and change and then load the gear into the truck in case we need it,” she said as she moved up the back stairs. “You gonna board up the house?”
John smiled at his thoughts. “Yeah, honey. I'll be done in a few minutes. Meet you at the truck. Come on boys, let's go get wet,” John addressed the two muts that had followed him and walked toward the back door to board up the windows.
Throwing on her uniform, Anna packed a bag of extra clothes and socks for them, then downstairs added in a few Ziploc bags of dog food in case it was needed. Grabbing her radio, securing everything breakable, and putting all things of value in the safe, she took one last look around and hit the light switches before locking the door and walking to the truck.
“Howdy ma'am,” John greeted her in his mock cowboy accent as she climbed in the cab. Grinning and shaking her head while he backed down the driveway, Anna just shook out her hair and turned around in the seat to put the orange vests on the dogs so they could be spotted in the downpour.
“I can't believe it's coming down this hard already. It was just supposed to be a few showers today,” Anna half shouted over the water thundering on the roof as they drove down the already flooding streets to the station.
At the top of the Isle of Palms bridge, the view was breath-taking. The sky was every color of blue imaginable as the navy clouds from the hurricane mixed with the bright indigo far in the distance the day should have been. Reflected by the dark, rolling ocean, it would've made a beautiful painting. The opposite side of the bridge, leading off the island, was almost at a dead stand still as the locals knew that even a minor storm could put their houses under water.
The station was buzzing with noise from the volunteers who came in. B-shift had been dispatched to Sullivan’s Island to help out for the duration of the storm but no calls had been made yet except a medical assist to help a wheel-chair bound man and his family into their car so they could drive upstate. Anna whistled to the dogs and helped John unload the truck and bring their supplies in to store in their lockers.
Up on the third floor in the living quarters, the TV's were all turned to the news or weather. Hurricane James was only an hour out but it was already causing damage downtown. Most of the streets were flooded and several of the really old historic homes on the Battery had crumbled under the wind gusts and waves coming up over the concrete barriers. As Andrew entered the room, John turned to him and asked what Olivia was doing with the kids.
“Oh you know her; she's already halfway to her mom's in Georgia. They'll be safe there and at least Corey and Jenny will have more entertainment with their Grandma then in some hotel room,” he told the group.
“I'm sure they'll stay ahead of the storm,” Anna assured him, but before anything else could be added, tones began ringing through the speakers.
The dispatchers female voice came very clearly into the silent room, “Attention station one, attention station one. The police station is requesting assistance with the placement of sand bags in the dunes. Please meet them at 23rd Street as soon as possible.”
“Copy. Enroute with Truck One,” Nick replied into his radio. He, Curtis and Ben left the room quickly down the back hallway.
“I think we should secure things here,” John announced. “If the hurricane is strong enough, the sand bags on top of the dunes won't stop the waves and rain from easily flooding the island. Half the cops are helping with the traffic off the island and the other half are on sand bag patrol with Truck One. That leaves us for any emergencies that occur. We should be prepared to leave the station to hold up against the storm on its own.”
“Sounds like a plan. The shutters are already up and the flood doors are down, but it would be smart to prepare the Engine and extra trucks for anything that could possibly come up. Plus we'll definitely need the boats and jet skis in a few hours.”
John smiled over at his wife. “Let's go then.”
***
Another hour later everyone was back and the storm was officially in Charleston County. Most of Isle of Palms had been abandoned except for the few families that had barricaded their houses like forts and were determined, against advice, to stick it out. Several crazy surfers had been pulled out by the tide and brought back in with the help of firefighters. The Northern end of the Island, up in Wild Dunes, was mostly under two feet of water already while the Southern part of the island was in a water cyclone as sea water and rain clashed under and around the small bridge to Sullivan's Island. The police station had sent their patrolmen out to make sure that everyone remaining on IOP was escorted from their homes to Mount Pleasant for their safety, whether they wanted to leave or not. After they finish, the cops are free to go home to their families.
At the fire station, the bay was locked up tight and everyone was up on the third floor watching the storm rage out at sea and keeping up with the rest of the state via news channels. The first floor was slightly flooded with a few inches of water but so far, the flood doors were holding up very well.
“I think I’m going to bake a cake,” Anna announced exiting the room down the hall that lead to the kitchen. Following her, John put an arm on her shoulder as she began to open cabinets.
“Uh, babe? I’m not really sure it’s cake-baking time,” John tried to casually mention.
“What do you want me to do? Stand around and wait for a call? No one is on the island. I don’t think it’s fun to watch people lose their houses.” Anna pulled ingredients from the shelves and composed them on the tiles.
“I don’t either.” John struggled for the right words to say to her. Looking at her back he finally spoke. “Anna, you know it’s not like that. No one wants a hurricane to come and knock down their house, but it happens. It’s not entertaining. All we can do is help them through it and make sure everyone is safe.”
Turning around to face him, Anna cocked her head and rebutted. “What about your safety John? How am I supposed to believe that you’ll always come home when I’m here and I’ve seen some of the crazy things you do?” She spun toward the counter again and cracked open an egg.
John sighed behind her. “I know we do stupid things sometimes. But I am safe. You have to believe that Anna. I didn’t make Lieutenant for nothing.” With a quick movement of his heal he was strolling away from her, out of the kitchen.
“He’s right honey,” Mike hadn’t been listening in, but he caught the last part of the conversation and knew about Anna’s worries. He and his wife had had the same discussion many times over the years. “Ya just gotta trust him. He loves you and he wouldn’t want ya to be alone. That’s enough to keep a man careful, trust me.” Mike turned and left the room.
Anna’s shoulders dropped and she rolled her head around in a circle to stretch her neck. Midway around the second circle, eyes cast up at the ceiling, Anna inhaled sharply. “Oh crap….Oh crap! John! Guys! Get in here!”
Heavy footfalls and then they surrounded her all looking up at the dark, spreading water mark on the space above them. “When do you think it started?” Curtis asked.
“Must’ve been within the last few hours. It wasn’t there this morning,” Nick said.
“I’ll go get a ladder so we can check it out.” Ben hurried from the room, the door shutting firmly behind him.
“Anna, can you move this stuff please?” Andrew loved her cakes, but now definitely wasn’t the time. “Thanks for catching it too.”
“No prob. Just wanted to distract myself for a bit and pass the time.” As soon as the words left Anna’s mouth, the lights flickered then went out. “I should have guessed the power would go out and there would be no way to cook it,” she chuckled at herself. Luckily, the backup generators powered that wing in case of such emergencies and after a moment the lights flickered back on, but at a dimmer setting.
The door to the other side of the kitchen opened again and Ben entered carrying the ladder. Already the water mark was three times larger and dripping steadily. He hastened to set it up under the mark then climbed up while being spattered on the head. While Nick and John steadied him, gripping the ladder and his ankles, Ben reached up touching the wet board of the drop-ceiling.
“There’s pressure here. Want me to lift it or leave it?” Ben asked the Chief.
“We have to fix whatever is wrong. Push it up and out of the way,” Nick directed him.
“O-a-kay, you’re a da boss,” Ben joked in an Italian accent. He pushed upward on the board which crumbled against his pressure and let lose an icy wave from the ceiling down onto them all, knocking Ben, John and Nick to the floor.
“You alright kid?”
“I’m good Chief,” Ben reassured him. “Kinda surfed on down.”
It was steadily raining from the opening in the ceiling down on them all and several of the other particle boards were now also darkening. Nick leaned forward and looked up to the ceiling. “Well, this wasn’t planned for. It looks like several of the roofing tiles have been removed.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked. “There’s no roof?”
“No, there’s a roof, but large pieces of it are missing and we don’t have any boards here to fix it.”
“Tarp won’t hold either with this wind,” John added. They could distantly hear it whistling around the missing pieces of roof. “Not that we have any way to get up there in this storm to fix anything anyway.”
“So we’ll just set up a way to empty the water as it comes in,” Ben suggested. “Buckets and pots ya know?”
“We couldn’t keep that up for hours Ben, but it’s a nice thought. We need to get our gear and evacuate.” The lights flickered again. “Everyone, suit up, grab supplies and get down to the trucks. It’s gonna be tough driving off the island without flooding out but we don’t have any choice if the place is going to fill.”
***
“Come on boys!” Anna called the dogs from the couches in the other room and rushed off toward the hall in two inches of water.
“Take it easy! If you fall and break your ankle, you’ll regret it,” John advised her. Together, they made their way down the slippery hall past the firefighters in their rooms gathering their bags. Opening the door to the metal mesh stairs that lead to the first floor and bay, Anna stopped instantly, John walking into her back.
“Is that water? John, the first floor is flooded!”
“This day is getting worse by the minute. Chief!” John called out to Nick down the hall. “The first floor is filled three feet of water! I wouldn’t worry about grabbing changes of socks; we need to get out of here fast!”
The Chief appeared in the doorway closest to them. “Please tell me you’re joking.” Not waiting for an answer, he stuck his head around the corner and instantly reached to his waistband for a radio. “Looks like the flood doors failed. 601 to Dispatch,” he relayed. There was no response. “601 to Dispatch.” Once again there was no reply. “I guess the radio channels are out. We’re on our own people.”
“We know you can handle this, Chief,” Anna spoke calmly. “What should we do?”
“Let’s leave everything that isn’t necessary and load into the boats and onto the jet skis immediately,” the Chief addressed the group that had gathered in the hall and on the stairs to gaze at the cold water two floors below them. “Move people!” He barked at them and everyone scrambled down the stairs.
Anna scooped up the puppy and watched her step as she hurried down. At the halfway landing between the first and second floors, John stepped into the rising cool water and ordered Jackson to stay with him. Together they waded over to the nearest boat around the sad looking and useless fire engines in the bay. Anna handed Rocky to John as she approached the boat and set their pack under the seat to keep it as dry as possible after she lifted herself in. Ben, Andrew and Curtis were in the boat closest to the flood doors, and both Nick and Mike were ready on jet skis. Anna undid the tarp she had grabbed and wrapped it around the four of them to protect them from the most of the wind and piercing rain. This may be the stupidest thing they ever did, but as she glanced around the bay, she noticed the large cracks in the concrete walls where rain was dripping through, she decided that they didn’t really have a choice.
Nick signaled them to follow and headed to the nearest flood door. Hopping off the jet ski and into the mixture of salt and rain water, he undid the flood doors and opened them to the fierceness of the hurricane. Wind whipped the tops of trees around like children fling clappers back and forth at a birthday party and the rain poured from the sky.
“The goal is the bridge,” he shouted at them. “We’ll make it there and we’ll hold fort til the eye. Once the eye breaks, we can make for Mount Pleasant across the marsh.”
Like turtles headed out to sea, they moved slowly in a zigzagging line down JC Long Blvd against the swirling wind. Tiny people huddled up against the storm in their boats being tossed around as they fought their way forward. The flashlights on each boat flickered. Anna couldn’t stop thinking about how surreal this situation was. She couldn’t see the road because of the feet of water covering the entire island. It was so unnatural to see only half the gas station and the roofs of all the abandoned cars on the street. They turned, passing straight by the useless stop sign, and felt a small sense of relief at being halfway there.
Out of nowhere a large gust of wind caught up under the tarp that Anna held around herself, the dogs and John. The corner in her left hand flew out of her grasp and flapped up, back and forth in the torrents of air. Instantly, automatically, Anna flung her fingers out in reach for it and her momentum threw her over the metal edge of the launch and into the cold currents.
“Anna!” John instantly stopped heading toward the bridge and followed her bobbing head. Thought the water wasn’t very deep, it was flowing over the island in waves making it difficult to stand up and impossible to walk. “Try to grab something!”
Already halfway down the block, Anna struggled to swim in the four foot high water to the left side of the street so she could grab one of the many signs in the parking lot of the post office. Already she passed the vacant lot on the left of the post office but after a lot of struggling and feeling like a fish swimming upstream, she was able to grab ahold of the “Buckle Up” sign at the exit. The metal bit into her palms and curled fingers but Anna held on tightly, refusing to let go. She couldn’t hear anything but the rush of the water and the wind and rain pushing into her eardrums. Finally being able to look around, Anna saw that John knew where she was but the others continued on unaware. Anna and John had been the last in the line up from the station. With no radios and the storm’s noise, no one would be able to hear them shouting.
John was coming to her quickly in the current and shouting something inaudible. He was able to maneuver slightly more easily using the boat’s motor and anchored himself in the vacant lot up the road from Anna. He held up a rope and made a motion to show her he was going to throw it to her. At the slightly awkward position she had of attempting to stand up by hugging the pole and wrapping her ankles around it, Anna was able to release one hand to prepare to grab the rope while still holding the sign with the other. She looked at John and nodded her head once to indicate that she was ready. She watched as his arm went back and the rope came flying at her. John knew to tie a knot at the end of the rope to make sure it went where he wanted and Anna stretched her hand out catching it as it splashed into the water.
She held it up so that he could see his toss was perfect and slowly, carefully, tied it around her waist and let go of the sign. Holding tight to the rope, Anna continued to place one hand in front of the other, pulling herself forward while John reeled her in, until at last she was at the boat. He grabbed her and pulled her up, flopping her in like a wet fish. They didn’t even feel the sting of rain anymore. They looked at each other for one moment, seated, soaking wet in the middle of a hurricane, and smiled. John cranked the motor propelling them forward back up the waves along Palm, back toward the bridge.
They held hands as the boat squeezed between the beaten trees and side of the bridge spotting the other firemen anchored to the center under the hump out of the worst of the storm. Together, they would all wait for the eye of the storm and then push forward again, to safety and Mount Pleasant.
The Storm
It was the morning of the anniversary of 9/11 and the radio weatherman was promising a few showers due to the hurricane coming up the coast, a few drops of which fell on the windshield as Anna headed home from the grocery store. The brown paper bags in the backseat were bursting with bacon, eggs, loafs of bread, sausage, butter, jam, syrup and ingredients for pancake mix. As she turned onto her street, Anna noticed the several American flags flapping on the paneled houses surrounding her, meaning that many of her neighbors remembered the events that had passed 9 years ago on this day. Today, in remembrance of the firefighters, police personnel, and many citizens who lost their lives, there would be parades, meals and gatherings in their honor. Despite the cooler temperature this year and the predicted coming showers, nothing had been canceled yet. Hopefully it'll stay that way, Anna prayed as she pulled into her drive.
About a half hour later, groceries in their right places, Anna stirred the frying pan full of eggs, and glanced out the kitchen window and noted by the heavy black clouds rolling into place, that the weatherman had been right about the hurricane off the coast rolling in. John, Anna's husband, and some of the guys from the fire station were due home any minute and Anna planned to treat them with a big breakfast.
Moving around the kitchen she loved as if she could do it in her sleep, Anna made not one error stepping over their two dogs to get to the organized fridge for the grape Smucker's jam and the butter she would lavishly spread over her toast. Anna loved to cook and bake; especially for people. She had the innate talent to look at a recipe, make a few adjustments of her own, and create a fabulous, well, whatever she had made. The firefighters at her husband's station loved her baked goods. Birthdays, holidays and special requests were always mentioned or hinted at in the hopes that Anna's big heart would tempt her to bake a wonderfully decorated cake, or a batch of original cookies, or some other dessert. Most of the time it worked too and Anna would cave and spend a few hours in front of her stove.
The dogs, hearing a distant engine, scrambled up from the rugs on the kitchen floor and raced to the front windows in the formal dining room. All around the house the blinds were always slightly lifted so they could see out of the low windows to greet passerby with a bark, or rush to the window holding a stuffed animal, tails wiggling happily. John entered the house first, and kissed Anna warmly as she met him at the door then stepped aside to let the others in. As the men and their families walked into the house, Jackson, the 3 year old black lab, began to bark and wiggle then raced off to grab his stuffed brown moose, his favorite toy, so he could wrestle with the kids. Rocky, the six month old puppy, overcome by his love of people wasn't really sure what to do, but hurried from person to person licking hands in hello.
In a pack not very different than a small football team, the guys crowded into the kitchen in front of Anna then turned at the sight of the food and gave her quick hugs and raised eyebrows before shifting automatically into a line, ready to consume the masses she had prepared. The women who had children helped them carry their plates along the long counter and they all slowly moved past the warm eggs, steaming piles of sausage and bacon, gently built houses of toast, and delicate stacks of homemade pancakes; each depleting slightly with every passing person. Settling around the table on additional mix-matched chairs, standing at the bar, or sitting in the living room, the group fell silent and looked to John to say a few words about the reason for their morning gathering before the meal was eaten.
“We're here this morning to remember the brothers and sisters we lost in a horrible incident nine years ago this time today,” John began addressing the solemn faces looking at him. “It's important to pay our respects to the people whose bravery and heart in their actions helped this nation see that we should each care for our neighbor selflessly. We should rise each morning with the idea in mind to do something kind for a stranger. We should work to improve the lives surrounding us, and make them happier if we can. I don't want today to become something sad though. Instead, I believe we should all be proud to live and work in this country. Paying tribute and keeping in our hearts those we lost should only be part of what today is about. The other part should be keeping up that tradition. Which I know we all will. Now, thank you Lord for providing us with this meal and my gorgeous wife to cook it for us. Let's eat it before it gets cold.” Anna smiled at John and took her place near him at the table.
Sitting on her right, Mike looked over at Anna, a mischievous look in his eye as he said, “John's right ya know, ya are gorgeous,” in that deep Southern drawl he had. Anna smiled at him squinting her eyes slightly as she pointed out that she was already married.
“Bein' married doesn't mean a woman can't hear she's purdy. In fact, she ought ta be told daily,” Mike proclaimed digging into his stack of pancakes. Mike's wife had passed away a few years ago and though no one really knew his age, it didn't seem to matter. He had the heart of a thirty-year-old and was very fit for however old he was from being a firefighter all his life.
To the background of chitter-chatter and silverware clinking, the household radio, not to mention several on the men's hips, squawked with the dispatchers voices sending out test tones for the morning shift. As Anna finished her plate and stood to refill orange juice glasses and cups of coffee, the sky opened up. It kind of sounded like a percussion band was playing lightly on the roof. Instantly the small children playing with the dogs on the living room floor moaned. In their minds the festivities of the parades filled with balloons, tossed candy and floats had come to a screeching halt.
Anna loved children but sadly couldn't have any herself. John was devastated when they heard the news. She quickly got out the coloring books for them from her secret drawer in the kitchen and moved the photo albums from the coffee table for a work space.
“Gonna be a shit storm,” Mike muttered.
“Maybe,” John replied. “Wonder if they'll continue on with all the plans for today? I'm gonna turn on the weather channel and see what they say.” He rose and moved into the living room near the TV. The guys excused themselves, stood and followed. After a click and a series of button pushing, John, Mike, Curtis, Nick, Ben and Andrew all stood in front of the big screen waiting for the latest on the storm while Sarah, Beth, Tracy and Olivia gave Anna a hand cleaning up the dishes and loading them into the washer.
“The tropical storm has quickly advanced to a Category Three Hurricane. Though it was supposed to continue up the East coast and strike the Northern part of the United States, James has taken a large left turn and looks to hit us dead on. We would like to advise everyone that winds and rain with this storm are very powerful. Hurricane James is expected to reach Charleston fully within two hours. We are encouraging everyone to take this very seriously. All activities and parades planned for today have been canceled. Please remain indoors and take extreme caution when traveling anywhere. If you have the ability to leave, an evacuation is advised but not yet mandatory...” the weatherman was heard through-out the household as everyone stopped and listened.
“Time to go earn some overtime,” Mike smiled and picked up his coat from the front door. John switched the TV off and walked into the kitchen to talk to Anna just as the women came out and began gathering up coats and little ones.
“Thanks for coming everyone. Be safe driving home ladies and we'll see you at the station in a few guys. I think Anna and I will head over to lend an extra hand.” John said more goodbyes and closed the door securely blocking out the roar of the pounding rain.
Closing the last cabinet, Anna turned as John's boots stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. “We heading in?” she casually asked.
“Yep, I think so. You know it'll be chaotic with traffic once the rain hits downtown,” John smiled.
“And people are stupid when they shouldn't be,” Anna added what he left out. “I'll run upstairs and change and then load the gear into the truck in case we need it,” she said as she moved up the back stairs. “You gonna board up the house?”
John smiled at his thoughts. “Yeah, honey. I'll be done in a few minutes. Meet you at the truck. Come on boys, let's go get wet,” John addressed the two muts that had followed him and walked toward the back door to board up the windows.
Throwing on her uniform, Anna packed a bag of extra clothes and socks for them, then downstairs added in a few Ziploc bags of dog food in case it was needed. Grabbing her radio, securing everything breakable, and putting all things of value in the safe, she took one last look around and hit the light switches before locking the door and walking to the truck.
“Howdy ma'am,” John greeted her in his mock cowboy accent as she climbed in the cab. Grinning and shaking her head while he backed down the driveway, Anna just shook out her hair and turned around in the seat to put the orange vests on the dogs so they could be spotted in the downpour.
“I can't believe it's coming down this hard already. It was just supposed to be a few showers today,” Anna half shouted over the water thundering on the roof as they drove down the already flooding streets to the station.
At the top of the Isle of Palms bridge, the view was breath-taking. The sky was every color of blue imaginable as the navy clouds from the hurricane mixed with the bright indigo far in the distance the day should have been. Reflected by the dark, rolling ocean, it would've made a beautiful painting. The opposite side of the bridge, leading off the island, was almost at a dead stand still as the locals knew that even a minor storm could put their houses under water.
The station was buzzing with noise from the volunteers who came in. B-shift had been dispatched to Sullivan’s Island to help out for the duration of the storm but no calls had been made yet except a medical assist to help a wheel-chair bound man and his family into their car so they could drive upstate. Anna whistled to the dogs and helped John unload the truck and bring their supplies in to store in their lockers.
Up on the third floor in the living quarters, the TV's were all turned to the news or weather. Hurricane James was only an hour out but it was already causing damage downtown. Most of the streets were flooded and several of the really old historic homes on the Battery had crumbled under the wind gusts and waves coming up over the concrete barriers. As Andrew entered the room, John turned to him and asked what Olivia was doing with the kids.
“Oh you know her; she's already halfway to her mom's in Georgia. They'll be safe there and at least Corey and Jenny will have more entertainment with their Grandma then in some hotel room,” he told the group.
“I'm sure they'll stay ahead of the storm,” Anna assured him, but before anything else could be added, tones began ringing through the speakers.
The dispatchers female voice came very clearly into the silent room, “Attention station one, attention station one. The police station is requesting assistance with the placement of sand bags in the dunes. Please meet them at 23rd Street as soon as possible.”
“Copy. Enroute with Truck One,” Nick replied into his radio. He, Curtis and Ben left the room quickly down the back hallway.
“I think we should secure things here,” John announced. “If the hurricane is strong enough, the sand bags on top of the dunes won't stop the waves and rain from easily flooding the island. Half the cops are helping with the traffic off the island and the other half are on sand bag patrol with Truck One. That leaves us for any emergencies that occur. We should be prepared to leave the station to hold up against the storm on its own.”
“Sounds like a plan. The shutters are already up and the flood doors are down, but it would be smart to prepare the Engine and extra trucks for anything that could possibly come up. Plus we'll definitely need the boats and jet skis in a few hours.”
John smiled over at his wife. “Let's go then.”
***
Another hour later everyone was back and the storm was officially in Charleston County. Most of Isle of Palms had been abandoned except for the few families that had barricaded their houses like forts and were determined, against advice, to stick it out. Several crazy surfers had been pulled out by the tide and brought back in with the help of firefighters. The Northern end of the Island, up in Wild Dunes, was mostly under two feet of water already while the Southern part of the island was in a water cyclone as sea water and rain clashed under and around the small bridge to Sullivan's Island. The police station had sent their patrolmen out to make sure that everyone remaining on IOP was escorted from their homes to Mount Pleasant for their safety, whether they wanted to leave or not. After they finish, the cops are free to go home to their families.
At the fire station, the bay was locked up tight and everyone was up on the third floor watching the storm rage out at sea and keeping up with the rest of the state via news channels. The first floor was slightly flooded with a few inches of water but so far, the flood doors were holding up very well.
“I think I’m going to bake a cake,” Anna announced exiting the room down the hall that lead to the kitchen. Following her, John put an arm on her shoulder as she began to open cabinets.
“Uh, babe? I’m not really sure it’s cake-baking time,” John tried to casually mention.
“What do you want me to do? Stand around and wait for a call? No one is on the island. I don’t think it’s fun to watch people lose their houses.” Anna pulled ingredients from the shelves and composed them on the tiles.
“I don’t either.” John struggled for the right words to say to her. Looking at her back he finally spoke. “Anna, you know it’s not like that. No one wants a hurricane to come and knock down their house, but it happens. It’s not entertaining. All we can do is help them through it and make sure everyone is safe.”
Turning around to face him, Anna cocked her head and rebutted. “What about your safety John? How am I supposed to believe that you’ll always come home when I’m here and I’ve seen some of the crazy things you do?” She spun toward the counter again and cracked open an egg.
John sighed behind her. “I know we do stupid things sometimes. But I am safe. You have to believe that Anna. I didn’t make Lieutenant for nothing.” With a quick movement of his heal he was strolling away from her, out of the kitchen.
“He’s right honey,” Mike hadn’t been listening in, but he caught the last part of the conversation and knew about Anna’s worries. He and his wife had had the same discussion many times over the years. “Ya just gotta trust him. He loves you and he wouldn’t want ya to be alone. That’s enough to keep a man careful, trust me.” Mike turned and left the room.
Anna’s shoulders dropped and she rolled her head around in a circle to stretch her neck. Midway around the second circle, eyes cast up at the ceiling, Anna inhaled sharply. “Oh crap….Oh crap! John! Guys! Get in here!”
Heavy footfalls and then they surrounded her all looking up at the dark, spreading water mark on the space above them. “When do you think it started?” Curtis asked.
“Must’ve been within the last few hours. It wasn’t there this morning,” Nick said.
“I’ll go get a ladder so we can check it out.” Ben hurried from the room, the door shutting firmly behind him.
“Anna, can you move this stuff please?” Andrew loved her cakes, but now definitely wasn’t the time. “Thanks for catching it too.”
“No prob. Just wanted to distract myself for a bit and pass the time.” As soon as the words left Anna’s mouth, the lights flickered then went out. “I should have guessed the power would go out and there would be no way to cook it,” she chuckled at herself. Luckily, the backup generators powered that wing in case of such emergencies and after a moment the lights flickered back on, but at a dimmer setting.
The door to the other side of the kitchen opened again and Ben entered carrying the ladder. Already the water mark was three times larger and dripping steadily. He hastened to set it up under the mark then climbed up while being spattered on the head. While Nick and John steadied him, gripping the ladder and his ankles, Ben reached up touching the wet board of the drop-ceiling.
“There’s pressure here. Want me to lift it or leave it?” Ben asked the Chief.
“We have to fix whatever is wrong. Push it up and out of the way,” Nick directed him.
“O-a-kay, you’re a da boss,” Ben joked in an Italian accent. He pushed upward on the board which crumbled against his pressure and let lose an icy wave from the ceiling down onto them all, knocking Ben, John and Nick to the floor.
“You alright kid?”
“I’m good Chief,” Ben reassured him. “Kinda surfed on down.”
It was steadily raining from the opening in the ceiling down on them all and several of the other particle boards were now also darkening. Nick leaned forward and looked up to the ceiling. “Well, this wasn’t planned for. It looks like several of the roofing tiles have been removed.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked. “There’s no roof?”
“No, there’s a roof, but large pieces of it are missing and we don’t have any boards here to fix it.”
“Tarp won’t hold either with this wind,” John added. They could distantly hear it whistling around the missing pieces of roof. “Not that we have any way to get up there in this storm to fix anything anyway.”
“So we’ll just set up a way to empty the water as it comes in,” Ben suggested. “Buckets and pots ya know?”
“We couldn’t keep that up for hours Ben, but it’s a nice thought. We need to get our gear and evacuate.” The lights flickered again. “Everyone, suit up, grab supplies and get down to the trucks. It’s gonna be tough driving off the island without flooding out but we don’t have any choice if the place is going to fill.”
***
“Come on boys!” Anna called the dogs from the couches in the other room and rushed off toward the hall in two inches of water.
“Take it easy! If you fall and break your ankle, you’ll regret it,” John advised her. Together, they made their way down the slippery hall past the firefighters in their rooms gathering their bags. Opening the door to the metal mesh stairs that lead to the first floor and bay, Anna stopped instantly, John walking into her back.
“Is that water? John, the first floor is flooded!”
“This day is getting worse by the minute. Chief!” John called out to Nick down the hall. “The first floor is filled three feet of water! I wouldn’t worry about grabbing changes of socks; we need to get out of here fast!”
The Chief appeared in the doorway closest to them. “Please tell me you’re joking.” Not waiting for an answer, he stuck his head around the corner and instantly reached to his waistband for a radio. “Looks like the flood doors failed. 601 to Dispatch,” he relayed. There was no response. “601 to Dispatch.” Once again there was no reply. “I guess the radio channels are out. We’re on our own people.”
“We know you can handle this, Chief,” Anna spoke calmly. “What should we do?”
“Let’s leave everything that isn’t necessary and load into the boats and onto the jet skis immediately,” the Chief addressed the group that had gathered in the hall and on the stairs to gaze at the cold water two floors below them. “Move people!” He barked at them and everyone scrambled down the stairs.
Anna scooped up the puppy and watched her step as she hurried down. At the halfway landing between the first and second floors, John stepped into the rising cool water and ordered Jackson to stay with him. Together they waded over to the nearest boat around the sad looking and useless fire engines in the bay. Anna handed Rocky to John as she approached the boat and set their pack under the seat to keep it as dry as possible after she lifted herself in. Ben, Andrew and Curtis were in the boat closest to the flood doors, and both Nick and Mike were ready on jet skis. Anna undid the tarp she had grabbed and wrapped it around the four of them to protect them from the most of the wind and piercing rain. This may be the stupidest thing they ever did, but as she glanced around the bay, she noticed the large cracks in the concrete walls where rain was dripping through, she decided that they didn’t really have a choice.
Nick signaled them to follow and headed to the nearest flood door. Hopping off the jet ski and into the mixture of salt and rain water, he undid the flood doors and opened them to the fierceness of the hurricane. Wind whipped the tops of trees around like children fling clappers back and forth at a birthday party and the rain poured from the sky.
“The goal is the bridge,” he shouted at them. “We’ll make it there and we’ll hold fort til the eye. Once the eye breaks, we can make for Mount Pleasant across the marsh.”
Like turtles headed out to sea, they moved slowly in a zigzagging line down JC Long Blvd against the swirling wind. Tiny people huddled up against the storm in their boats being tossed around as they fought their way forward. The flashlights on each boat flickered. Anna couldn’t stop thinking about how surreal this situation was. She couldn’t see the road because of the feet of water covering the entire island. It was so unnatural to see only half the gas station and the roofs of all the abandoned cars on the street. They turned, passing straight by the useless stop sign, and felt a small sense of relief at being halfway there.
Out of nowhere a large gust of wind caught up under the tarp that Anna held around herself, the dogs and John. The corner in her left hand flew out of her grasp and flapped up, back and forth in the torrents of air. Instantly, automatically, Anna flung her fingers out in reach for it and her momentum threw her over the metal edge of the launch and into the cold currents.
“Anna!” John instantly stopped heading toward the bridge and followed her bobbing head. Thought the water wasn’t very deep, it was flowing over the island in waves making it difficult to stand up and impossible to walk. “Try to grab something!”
Already halfway down the block, Anna struggled to swim in the four foot high water to the left side of the street so she could grab one of the many signs in the parking lot of the post office. Already she passed the vacant lot on the left of the post office but after a lot of struggling and feeling like a fish swimming upstream, she was able to grab ahold of the “Buckle Up” sign at the exit. The metal bit into her palms and curled fingers but Anna held on tightly, refusing to let go. She couldn’t hear anything but the rush of the water and the wind and rain pushing into her eardrums. Finally being able to look around, Anna saw that John knew where she was but the others continued on unaware. Anna and John had been the last in the line up from the station. With no radios and the storm’s noise, no one would be able to hear them shouting.
John was coming to her quickly in the current and shouting something inaudible. He was able to maneuver slightly more easily using the boat’s motor and anchored himself in the vacant lot up the road from Anna. He held up a rope and made a motion to show her he was going to throw it to her. At the slightly awkward position she had of attempting to stand up by hugging the pole and wrapping her ankles around it, Anna was able to release one hand to prepare to grab the rope while still holding the sign with the other. She looked at John and nodded her head once to indicate that she was ready. She watched as his arm went back and the rope came flying at her. John knew to tie a knot at the end of the rope to make sure it went where he wanted and Anna stretched her hand out catching it as it splashed into the water.
She held it up so that he could see his toss was perfect and slowly, carefully, tied it around her waist and let go of the sign. Holding tight to the rope, Anna continued to place one hand in front of the other, pulling herself forward while John reeled her in, until at last she was at the boat. He grabbed her and pulled her up, flopping her in like a wet fish. They didn’t even feel the sting of rain anymore. They looked at each other for one moment, seated, soaking wet in the middle of a hurricane, and smiled. John cranked the motor propelling them forward back up the waves along Palm, back toward the bridge.
They held hands as the boat squeezed between the beaten trees and side of the bridge spotting the other firemen anchored to the center under the hump out of the worst of the storm. Together, they would all wait for the eye of the storm and then push forward again, to safety and Mount Pleasant.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The Writer
Today I was inspired by myself. Ha, that sounds funny. Well here is the poem that I spit out while working on my short story. Enjoy.
The Writer
My fingers move across keys much like a pianists,
Click click to backspace, tap tap tap creating words.
Striking letters to make pages instead of turning them.
The cursor blinks tauntingly up at me, black against white.
It tells me that the story isn't over, there is always more to say.
I create characters, places, plots and trouble.
I entice the reader, you, to look at my words,
Absorb their meaning, and care about the characters.
They become your friends as you root for them to win,
Your enemies as you wish for their defeat.
Conflict arises and your heartstrings tug, your throat constricts,
Your eyes move quickly across the page, growing wide,
You hope the outcome is how you want it.
The last page is near, the cliff hanger is here,
I write as you read, and the story ends.
You feel a sense of wonder, and I feel accomplished.
The Writer
My fingers move across keys much like a pianists,
Click click to backspace, tap tap tap creating words.
Striking letters to make pages instead of turning them.
The cursor blinks tauntingly up at me, black against white.
It tells me that the story isn't over, there is always more to say.
I create characters, places, plots and trouble.
I entice the reader, you, to look at my words,
Absorb their meaning, and care about the characters.
They become your friends as you root for them to win,
Your enemies as you wish for their defeat.
Conflict arises and your heartstrings tug, your throat constricts,
Your eyes move quickly across the page, growing wide,
You hope the outcome is how you want it.
The last page is near, the cliff hanger is here,
I write as you read, and the story ends.
You feel a sense of wonder, and I feel accomplished.
Friday, September 3, 2010
The Mountain Trip
Alright guys, I had to write a page of a short story for my Fiction Writing class. We had to take one of three senarios (1.Drag a body down the beach, 2.A wife watches her husband be attacked by a bear, 3.Find a body in the woods). The trick is that we had to write the actual topic in a "cold" demeanor. Tell me what you think of mine...
A quarter mile away from where her parents had set up lunch, the trees grew thick and dark, and the ground was damp and cool. Ali climbed up on a large, oval-shaped white rock to better see ahead of her. Her parents had decided to go hiking and camping as a way for them to bond with her for the weekend. Ali wasn't ecstatic about going, but at least she could breathe outside. Her younger brother had been kidnapped three years ago when he was eight and it tore her family apart. Though Ali still missed him and worried about him, her parents were crushing her to death with their concern about her. Turning on top of the great rock, Ali decided to walk towards the stream. She watched squirrels chase each other and dance up the tall pines, hearing the gravel trail and fallen pine straw crunch under her walking sneakers. Breathing deep and glancing up through the leaves at the sky, Ali felt alone for the first time in a long time. It felt glorious. Reaching the trembling brook, Ali sat down by the water's edge and began to pull off her sneakers and socks so that she could dip her feet into the coolness.
Stripping off her pack and leaving it near her shoes, she began to walk downstream a bit over the smooth stones thinking about what life would be like if David had never been taken, about the normal life she'd have. About fifty feet from her bag, Ali almost fell sliding on a slick rock. I have to stop daydreaming she scolded herself. Looking down to pull her foot from the mud she had sunken into Ali decided to turn back before she hurt herself.
Twisting back around carefully, she saw his face first, swollen and just above the water. The eyes, the black large eyes, frozen wide and set deep in the greenish glow of his skull. He lay belly up in the creek, his spine twisted around his pack, limbs spread at impossible angles. Flesh was torn from the left side of his face, but the dark blood that would've run from the crevasses was long gone in the current. The jeans and sweatshirt he wore was torn in places and stained blotchy with black mud. The shoe from his bent right foot was a bright burgundy and looked like it had been for a while.
Ali was so shocked she had walked right by him around the bend without noticing, the thought to scream or call for help was delayed a full minute as she tried to convince herself she wasn't seeing what was right in front of her. “MOM! DAD! HELP!” Ali yelled as she found her voice...
Would you want to keep reading this? Did I portray finding the body in a "cold" way? Is there anything you can think of to improve it? Thanks! Love you! :)
A quarter mile away from where her parents had set up lunch, the trees grew thick and dark, and the ground was damp and cool. Ali climbed up on a large, oval-shaped white rock to better see ahead of her. Her parents had decided to go hiking and camping as a way for them to bond with her for the weekend. Ali wasn't ecstatic about going, but at least she could breathe outside. Her younger brother had been kidnapped three years ago when he was eight and it tore her family apart. Though Ali still missed him and worried about him, her parents were crushing her to death with their concern about her. Turning on top of the great rock, Ali decided to walk towards the stream. She watched squirrels chase each other and dance up the tall pines, hearing the gravel trail and fallen pine straw crunch under her walking sneakers. Breathing deep and glancing up through the leaves at the sky, Ali felt alone for the first time in a long time. It felt glorious. Reaching the trembling brook, Ali sat down by the water's edge and began to pull off her sneakers and socks so that she could dip her feet into the coolness.
Stripping off her pack and leaving it near her shoes, she began to walk downstream a bit over the smooth stones thinking about what life would be like if David had never been taken, about the normal life she'd have. About fifty feet from her bag, Ali almost fell sliding on a slick rock. I have to stop daydreaming she scolded herself. Looking down to pull her foot from the mud she had sunken into Ali decided to turn back before she hurt herself.
Twisting back around carefully, she saw his face first, swollen and just above the water. The eyes, the black large eyes, frozen wide and set deep in the greenish glow of his skull. He lay belly up in the creek, his spine twisted around his pack, limbs spread at impossible angles. Flesh was torn from the left side of his face, but the dark blood that would've run from the crevasses was long gone in the current. The jeans and sweatshirt he wore was torn in places and stained blotchy with black mud. The shoe from his bent right foot was a bright burgundy and looked like it had been for a while.
Ali was so shocked she had walked right by him around the bend without noticing, the thought to scream or call for help was delayed a full minute as she tried to convince herself she wasn't seeing what was right in front of her. “MOM! DAD! HELP!” Ali yelled as she found her voice...
Would you want to keep reading this? Did I portray finding the body in a "cold" way? Is there anything you can think of to improve it? Thanks! Love you! :)
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Summer drawing
I couldn't sleep last night and listening to Beethoven on my iPod wasn't working so I got up and decided to draw what was in my head. Here it is. My far-away beach. :)
Friday, July 30, 2010
Life As A Newlywed
So Josh and I have been married for 76 days now (according to the FB day counter) and I must say, I like being married. We have already had serveral little and big "emergencies" but we came to a proper solution to each one together. We are the traditional poor newlyweds, his being a fireman isn't a "Bill Gates" status income and my being a college student isn't any income, but we are so happy. We eat home-cooked meals every night and the leftovers for lunch the next day and pinch our pennies to save for the things we need. Craigslist and the Target discount aisle items have decorated our home.
Every day that he isn't at the station, we spend at least a little bit of time together running errands or having free fun like a day at the park. He makes me smile and laugh. I love cooking dinner for us and taking care of the dogs and house. Classes start back up in a few short weeks, but in the meantime I've been volunteering at the fire station like crazy. Josh has been very supportive and helpful, teaching me how to tie certain knots and what types of equipment do which tasks. It has been great so far, though we both know that this bliss young innocent married beginning will change, we lay in bed each night talking about the positive things and what the future could bring for us. We are healthy, we have each other, and we have our families. We're blessed in this life with many riches besides money. That's it for now. :)
Every day that he isn't at the station, we spend at least a little bit of time together running errands or having free fun like a day at the park. He makes me smile and laugh. I love cooking dinner for us and taking care of the dogs and house. Classes start back up in a few short weeks, but in the meantime I've been volunteering at the fire station like crazy. Josh has been very supportive and helpful, teaching me how to tie certain knots and what types of equipment do which tasks. It has been great so far, though we both know that this bliss young innocent married beginning will change, we lay in bed each night talking about the positive things and what the future could bring for us. We are healthy, we have each other, and we have our families. We're blessed in this life with many riches besides money. That's it for now. :)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
A Wonderful Time Of Year!
This is the first article I've written for the George Street Observer this year. Thought I'd share it since it's about time for it to be printed. :)
Fall Semester at CofC
About this time eleven years ago, my sister, brother and I all piled into the SUV with my mom to go shopping for school supplies. I was entering the fifth grade that year. Walking around Walmart loading up on pencils, paper, binders and backpacks, my mom would hum lightly. I was used to hearing the tune, but not at this time of year. My mom was humming the classic Christmas song, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” while helping us select the age-appropriate items as we moseyed down the aisles.
Even then I could understand her reasoning for that particular melody because at nine years old, though I enjoyed summer break, I was always happy for a change of routine. (Us military kids get restless staying in the same place or doing the same thing for too long.) Plus, I’ve always enjoyed school anyway; you get to see friends everyday, learn new things, and the change of weather isn’t bad either.
This year I’m a junior at the College, and since my family aren’t Charlestonians, I school shopped alone. Moving down the discounted Target aisles bursting with everything for any school-bound person, I hummed a song I grew up hearing, and thought of all I didn’t know my freshman year.
The start of fall semester at College of Charleston means the smell of new books, friends coming back for the year, the campus filling with students, and being one step closer to Graduation Day. Parents break out the checkbooks and begin spending the pennies they’ve been saving since your first birthday, help you move into your new home for the year, and say tearful goodbyes as they drive back to their empty nests. For returnees to the College, old friends are greeted cheerfully and make plans to catch up, while new comers quickly find the friendly, Southern-style campus is full of every kind of club packed with potential pals.
Speaking of the new school year, while I’m welcoming all new and returning students, I’d like to give a few tips for attending classes downtown:
1) Always, always, always bring at least a pocket umbrella with you everywhere! Charleston is known for its unpredictable weather and weathermen.
2) Professors appreciate you visiting their office to introduce yourself. Some even give bonus points to those who do.
3) Take every test seriously, even if you already feel well prepared. Staying on top of your grades is easier than catching up later.
4) Find a personal balance between study and social time; each is equally important.
5) Lastly, remember that you are studying and living in one of the greatest historical cities in the USA; go explore and make memories with friends!
As you print your class schedule for this semester, order books, and select the desired pens, notebooks and laptops, think about who made it possible for you to get to this point. Be sure to tell them thanks, let them know how much you appreciate being able to further your education and how excited you are for the start of another fabulous school year. After all, it is the most wonderful time of the year, right Mom?
Fall Semester at CofC
About this time eleven years ago, my sister, brother and I all piled into the SUV with my mom to go shopping for school supplies. I was entering the fifth grade that year. Walking around Walmart loading up on pencils, paper, binders and backpacks, my mom would hum lightly. I was used to hearing the tune, but not at this time of year. My mom was humming the classic Christmas song, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” while helping us select the age-appropriate items as we moseyed down the aisles.
Even then I could understand her reasoning for that particular melody because at nine years old, though I enjoyed summer break, I was always happy for a change of routine. (Us military kids get restless staying in the same place or doing the same thing for too long.) Plus, I’ve always enjoyed school anyway; you get to see friends everyday, learn new things, and the change of weather isn’t bad either.
This year I’m a junior at the College, and since my family aren’t Charlestonians, I school shopped alone. Moving down the discounted Target aisles bursting with everything for any school-bound person, I hummed a song I grew up hearing, and thought of all I didn’t know my freshman year.
The start of fall semester at College of Charleston means the smell of new books, friends coming back for the year, the campus filling with students, and being one step closer to Graduation Day. Parents break out the checkbooks and begin spending the pennies they’ve been saving since your first birthday, help you move into your new home for the year, and say tearful goodbyes as they drive back to their empty nests. For returnees to the College, old friends are greeted cheerfully and make plans to catch up, while new comers quickly find the friendly, Southern-style campus is full of every kind of club packed with potential pals.
Speaking of the new school year, while I’m welcoming all new and returning students, I’d like to give a few tips for attending classes downtown:
1) Always, always, always bring at least a pocket umbrella with you everywhere! Charleston is known for its unpredictable weather and weathermen.
2) Professors appreciate you visiting their office to introduce yourself. Some even give bonus points to those who do.
3) Take every test seriously, even if you already feel well prepared. Staying on top of your grades is easier than catching up later.
4) Find a personal balance between study and social time; each is equally important.
5) Lastly, remember that you are studying and living in one of the greatest historical cities in the USA; go explore and make memories with friends!
As you print your class schedule for this semester, order books, and select the desired pens, notebooks and laptops, think about who made it possible for you to get to this point. Be sure to tell them thanks, let them know how much you appreciate being able to further your education and how excited you are for the start of another fabulous school year. After all, it is the most wonderful time of the year, right Mom?
Monday, April 26, 2010
New Puppy - Hunter
Our new little guy, Hunter. He's six weeks old. He pees both inside and outside, loves to play for 15 minutes then sleep for an hour and he follows Cooper everywhere! He has massive paws and he's a leaner on everything. Total cutie. :)
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
New Graduated Nurse Sissy!
Holly graduated and though it wasn't a big party she did buy new scrubs and go to dinner with her class. Here are some pictures from that amazing day! So proud of my baby sis and all she accomplished! Go Holly! I love you! :D
Last English Paper of My Sophmore Year
Hi! Just wanted to post my last English paper for this year. Two down and two to go! Whoo-hoo! It was supposed to be a minimum of five pages so of course I wrote eight. :)
The Twentieth Century:
Making the Change Happen
The twentieth century is a time of dramatic and vast adjustments in society. During this time, people are becoming more aware of each other’s struggles and the formation of human rights is starting. People of color and women alike are beginning to question the system they live under and fight the rules of common society. Many writers, including Virginia Woolf, Harold Pinter, J. M. Coetzee, Jean Rhys and Wole Soyinka, show the slow process of change from modernist to post-modern and the oppressed peoples uprising to equality. Women are oppressed by men and kept from the education they long for until awareness is raised and certain women, such as Virginia Woolf and Aphra Behn, take a stand and begin educating, writing and publishing essays and short stories. Races are oppressed until the middle of the Twentieth century when people of color began to stand up and fight for equality safely by using their writing. Violence also changed drastically during this period as it shifted from violent military wars to a more personal violence against the individual. Both Robert Graves and Wilfred Owen’s poems discuss the affects a violent war has on a person and how they each view it while Seamus Heaney’s poem shows the violence one can inflict upon oneself by the choices they make.
Virginia Woolf, upon asking to speak about “women and fiction” addresses the issue of women’s oppression in 1978 in her essay A Room of One’s Own (2092, 2092-2152). For Woolf, suppression meant that women were blocked from receiving the same education that men received. At the start of her essay she quotes from a sign that she read while walking around a University, “Only the Fellows and Scholars are allowed here” and in response says “I had no wish to enter had I the right” (2094, 2095).
Tennyson, John Stuart Mill, Samuel Butler, Pope and many other men’s names are scattered throughout Woolf’s essay for quotes and opinions that men have given about women emphasizing that women aren’t allowed to write or be educated enough to have an opinion that matters. While discussing that men have controlled all the writings about women, Woolf suggests that “Possibly… (they) insisted a little too emphatically upon the inferiority of women, (they were) concerned not with their inferiority, but with (their) own superiority” (2109). Continuing her research about the oppression of women, Woolf learns the true facts about marriage including that wife-beating was a “recognized right of man” and that marriages were arranged for “family avarice” instead of for love (2113). Carefully, she recognizes that it was society’s general rules that oppresses women and expresses her belief that if women had lived in the sixteenth century and written, their work would be unsigned.
Throughout her essay Woolf acknowledges the main reasons that women aren’t considered equal to men in their writings: space, money and hostility. For a women to have the privacy and time to write is very rare unless her parents are rich or noble. A women’s spending money also depends on a father or husband and is only enough for bare necessities. On the other hand, the few times women had the space, privacy and money to write, they still wouldn’t be able to publish because the world wouldn’t take it seriously (2119). However, Woolf also introduces the start of change and fighting superiority with Aphra Behn stating, “For now that Aphra Behn had done it, girls could go to their parents and say, You need not give me an allowance; I can make money by my pen” (2125).
With Harold Pinter’s play The Dumb Waiter, the changes in society became more noticeable as his character’s represent the lower classes who are beginning to question their authority figures. It is also noticed that the oppression shifts slightly to class based from gender based. Pinter’s character Ben is a good example of the common man who does as he’s told by any superior figure, but Gus, Pinter’s second character, begins to question authority as the story unfolds. When he asks Ben about why he stopped the car in the middle of the road on the way to their current location, he is showing a questioning of an authority figure’s actions and choices. Continuing to request information he asks, “Too early for what? You mean someone had to get out before we got in?” (2605).
Ben “kaw(s)” like a parrot through the play, repeating whatever he is told, not questioning authority (2606). Wilson, their boss, calls and tells them what to do and they go over it and carry it out. When Gus talks about Wilson he mentions that “(He) finds him hard to talk to” and that “There are a number of things I want to ask him. But I can never get round to it, when I see him” (2611). Gus describing Wilson in this way expresses his fear of his superior even though he occasionally questions decisions and directions.
In J. M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians a new side of oppression is shown by those put down for their race or skin color. While waiting for the barbarians, people gather in the streets and the author, feeling guilty, thinks, “I ought to go back to my cell. As a gesture it will have no effect, it will not even be noticed” (2840). As sad as it is, he was right that one person turning away from a horrendous act wouldn’t turn crowds away also because oppression goes mostly unnoticed by those inducing it. In the process of beating the barbarians, the Colonel rubs a handful of dirt into their backs and uses a stick of charcoal to write “ENEMY” on every one of them (2841). Labeling the barbarians this way and then beating the name off of them is symbolic of stripping them of everything they are.
When the author does raise the courage to attempt to speak up against the violence he is fearful and cautious sputtering, “ ‘No!’ I hear the first word from my throat, rusty, not loud enough. Then again: ‘No!’ This time the word rings like a bell from my chest” (2842). The author being unable to explain his emotion is a symbol for how hard it is to stand up to the government, or oppressive, system. This type of violence to a group based on who they are is past logic, reason or understanding. Waiting for the Barbarians is a good example of how a group of people can become barbaric for oppressing others raising a question about who the true monster is.
The Day They Burned the Books by Jean Rhys is a short story about a little girl
growing up in the Lesser Antilles and her life in oppression because of her skin color. Racism is used to keep the native people in oppression as the superiors wouldn’t allow them to feel comfortable. When confronted about her skin color the author responds, “Well, I don’t much want to be English…It’s much more fun to be French or Spanish or something like that – and, as a matter of fact, I am a bit” (2359).
The author feels torn between her native home and the home in which the educational books she reads comes from because of her friend. She describes his features and coloring along with his personality, “Eddie with the pale blue eyes and straw-coloured hair – the living image of his father, though often as silent as his mother – who first infected me with doubts about ‘home’, meaning England” (2358). The English were seen as superior and their books were published and read though-out the islands instead of the natives books. When the author talks about the Eddie, of English decent, she mentions the appearance of him as almost perfect: “he never felt the heat; some coldness in his fair skin resisted it. He didn’t burn red or brown, he didn’t freckle much” (2359). Though Eddie is seen as English, he states that he doesn’t like strawberries or daffodils showing that he doesn’t listen to the propaganda that England is better than the islands.
The book burning by Mrs. Sawyer symbolized the colonization of the islands by the English and how the native people felt about it. Specifically, Mrs. Sawyer burns a book by Christina Rossetti, a symbol for all women writers who have been published, representing that it was worse to join the oppressor than be oppressed. To show the authors own mixed feelings about the islands and England she uses hybridity of her native tongue with English.
The last symbol in the story is the book that she grabs when running from the house, “Fort Comme La Mori” meaning strong as death in French. It is symbolic of the strength needed to overcome oppression and the authority figures keeping her and her people there. Taking the book is a small way of fighting back the society’s rules.
Wole Soyinka, author of Telephone Conversation, also writes about oppression by racism in the twentieth century by describing his hunt for a place to live in England and his difficulty finding one. He discusses the price being right and notes that the location of the building doesn’t matter. Soyinka feels the need for “self-confession” which is ironic because he has no control over his skin color, therefore no reason to need to confess anything. Continuing on though, he warns the landlady, “Madam, I hate a wasted journey – I am African” (4-5). He tells us his image of her; a snooty, well-bred women smoking a cigarette with lipstick-lined lips. She asks him “How dark? Are you light or very dark?” (10-11).
Soyinka next describes the smell of the callbox symbolizing the smell of society and how they everything stay that way instead of working to fix it. He mentions seeing red everywhere, “Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered Omnibus” are all symbols that imperialism is everywhere (2530). Questioning him further the landlady asks him to compare his skin color to the familiar object of milk, plain or chocolate. He responds that he is many colors including “brunette”, “peroxide blonde”, and “raven black” suggesting that she just see for herself before judging him. Offering that she takes a look at him instead of simply deciding over the phone suggests that she get to know him instead of judging him and refusing him a room based on his skin color.
By pushing that option, Soyinka brings to light a new way for people to live free of oppression. Progress has been made from Woolf’s time of just writing about having people push certain classes or colors or groups of people around, to actually speaking up about it. Woolf’s essay explains the reasons why women are oppressed, by extension races, and now that those reasons are written and known people can begin acting and fighting back against begin put down.
Robert Graves’ poem Recalling War begins looking back on World War I from the point of view of the soldiers still alive who have been injured. Graves first gives the reader a sense that the soldiers are better off for serving in the war when he states that those with prosthetic limbs forget about them and that “The blinded man sees with his ears and hands / as much or more than once with both his eyes” (5-6). The tone shifts slightly when he mentions the “healthy dying” which was common in war when soldiers were accidentally shot, but preceding that talks of how “Death was young” which is something that shouldn’t be normal but is happening (19, 18). Following up to ferment the youth of those fighting, Graves adds that the soldiers are like “child(ren)” with “toy-like” guns (40, 42). When he specifically discusses war, Graves is negative, stating that it is “an infection of the common sky” and the “return of earth to ugly earth” where “Down in a row the brave tin-solders fall” (12, 31, 43). Wilfred Owen’s Dulce Et Decorum Est clearly complies with “Recalling War” when describing the soldiers by saying that “All went lame; all blind; / Drunk with fatigue” and also referring to them as “children” (6-7, 26). Visual and auditory imagery aid the reader to fully understand the violence of the war going on around them. Owen graphically describes a scene in which tear gas has been dropped around him and his fellow soldiers saying that there was “An ecstasy of fumbling” while everyone put on their masks and helmets but “someone still was yelling out and stumbling, / And flound’ring like a man in fire” (9, 11-12). The violence continues as Owen watches the man slowly “drown” in the gas until “He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning”, dying a very painful death (14, 16). That soldier continues to haunt Owen in his dreams and he wishes that the reader “could pace / Behind the wagon that we flung him in, / And watch the white eyes writhing in his face” (17-19). Lastly, Owen mentions that “Dulce et decorum est” is an “old Lie” that it is not nice to die for one’s country (27).
The opposite of the violence in and against war poems is the violence in and against individuals. Seamus Heaney’s poem Punishment describes a young girl who is malnourished and about to be drowned because of adultery. This particular poem shows a violence unlike any other violence written about in society; violence against an individual for ritualistic purposes. Like Owen’s poem, visual imagery is used so that the reader better understands the girl’s situation. For example, “the wind…blows her nipples to amber beads, it shakes the frail rigging of her ribs” showing that she is cold, starved and naked but he doesn’t stop there, he continues to detail her death in the bog by mentioning small things like “The weighing stone, / the floating rods and boughs” (3-8, 11-12). Almost feeling sympathy for “her shaved head / like a stubble of black corn” Heaney recalls that he “would have cast…the stones of silence” also if he was in her society (17-18, 30-31). Recognizing that the “poor scapegoat” isn’t the only one who participated in the adulterous acts she is being convicted of, Heaney stands in “civilized outrage yet understand(s) the exact and tribal, intimate revenge” because he understands that as a product of a society that accepts ritualized violence but also knows he can’t stop it (28, 42-44).
The Twentieth century was a time of great change in which oppression majorly ceased to exist as awareness was raised with the written word by authors who have experienced it firsthand and the war in society changed from universal to individual. People are no longer oppressed by their race or gender and violence has shifted from military to the individual in a ritualistic manner.
Thanks for reading! I know it was intimidating. :)See y'all in 24 days at the wedding!
The Twentieth Century:
Making the Change Happen
The twentieth century is a time of dramatic and vast adjustments in society. During this time, people are becoming more aware of each other’s struggles and the formation of human rights is starting. People of color and women alike are beginning to question the system they live under and fight the rules of common society. Many writers, including Virginia Woolf, Harold Pinter, J. M. Coetzee, Jean Rhys and Wole Soyinka, show the slow process of change from modernist to post-modern and the oppressed peoples uprising to equality. Women are oppressed by men and kept from the education they long for until awareness is raised and certain women, such as Virginia Woolf and Aphra Behn, take a stand and begin educating, writing and publishing essays and short stories. Races are oppressed until the middle of the Twentieth century when people of color began to stand up and fight for equality safely by using their writing. Violence also changed drastically during this period as it shifted from violent military wars to a more personal violence against the individual. Both Robert Graves and Wilfred Owen’s poems discuss the affects a violent war has on a person and how they each view it while Seamus Heaney’s poem shows the violence one can inflict upon oneself by the choices they make.
Virginia Woolf, upon asking to speak about “women and fiction” addresses the issue of women’s oppression in 1978 in her essay A Room of One’s Own (2092, 2092-2152). For Woolf, suppression meant that women were blocked from receiving the same education that men received. At the start of her essay she quotes from a sign that she read while walking around a University, “Only the Fellows and Scholars are allowed here” and in response says “I had no wish to enter had I the right” (2094, 2095).
Tennyson, John Stuart Mill, Samuel Butler, Pope and many other men’s names are scattered throughout Woolf’s essay for quotes and opinions that men have given about women emphasizing that women aren’t allowed to write or be educated enough to have an opinion that matters. While discussing that men have controlled all the writings about women, Woolf suggests that “Possibly… (they) insisted a little too emphatically upon the inferiority of women, (they were) concerned not with their inferiority, but with (their) own superiority” (2109). Continuing her research about the oppression of women, Woolf learns the true facts about marriage including that wife-beating was a “recognized right of man” and that marriages were arranged for “family avarice” instead of for love (2113). Carefully, she recognizes that it was society’s general rules that oppresses women and expresses her belief that if women had lived in the sixteenth century and written, their work would be unsigned.
Throughout her essay Woolf acknowledges the main reasons that women aren’t considered equal to men in their writings: space, money and hostility. For a women to have the privacy and time to write is very rare unless her parents are rich or noble. A women’s spending money also depends on a father or husband and is only enough for bare necessities. On the other hand, the few times women had the space, privacy and money to write, they still wouldn’t be able to publish because the world wouldn’t take it seriously (2119). However, Woolf also introduces the start of change and fighting superiority with Aphra Behn stating, “For now that Aphra Behn had done it, girls could go to their parents and say, You need not give me an allowance; I can make money by my pen” (2125).
With Harold Pinter’s play The Dumb Waiter, the changes in society became more noticeable as his character’s represent the lower classes who are beginning to question their authority figures. It is also noticed that the oppression shifts slightly to class based from gender based. Pinter’s character Ben is a good example of the common man who does as he’s told by any superior figure, but Gus, Pinter’s second character, begins to question authority as the story unfolds. When he asks Ben about why he stopped the car in the middle of the road on the way to their current location, he is showing a questioning of an authority figure’s actions and choices. Continuing to request information he asks, “Too early for what? You mean someone had to get out before we got in?” (2605).
Ben “kaw(s)” like a parrot through the play, repeating whatever he is told, not questioning authority (2606). Wilson, their boss, calls and tells them what to do and they go over it and carry it out. When Gus talks about Wilson he mentions that “(He) finds him hard to talk to” and that “There are a number of things I want to ask him. But I can never get round to it, when I see him” (2611). Gus describing Wilson in this way expresses his fear of his superior even though he occasionally questions decisions and directions.
In J. M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians a new side of oppression is shown by those put down for their race or skin color. While waiting for the barbarians, people gather in the streets and the author, feeling guilty, thinks, “I ought to go back to my cell. As a gesture it will have no effect, it will not even be noticed” (2840). As sad as it is, he was right that one person turning away from a horrendous act wouldn’t turn crowds away also because oppression goes mostly unnoticed by those inducing it. In the process of beating the barbarians, the Colonel rubs a handful of dirt into their backs and uses a stick of charcoal to write “ENEMY” on every one of them (2841). Labeling the barbarians this way and then beating the name off of them is symbolic of stripping them of everything they are.
When the author does raise the courage to attempt to speak up against the violence he is fearful and cautious sputtering, “ ‘No!’ I hear the first word from my throat, rusty, not loud enough. Then again: ‘No!’ This time the word rings like a bell from my chest” (2842). The author being unable to explain his emotion is a symbol for how hard it is to stand up to the government, or oppressive, system. This type of violence to a group based on who they are is past logic, reason or understanding. Waiting for the Barbarians is a good example of how a group of people can become barbaric for oppressing others raising a question about who the true monster is.
The Day They Burned the Books by Jean Rhys is a short story about a little girl
growing up in the Lesser Antilles and her life in oppression because of her skin color. Racism is used to keep the native people in oppression as the superiors wouldn’t allow them to feel comfortable. When confronted about her skin color the author responds, “Well, I don’t much want to be English…It’s much more fun to be French or Spanish or something like that – and, as a matter of fact, I am a bit” (2359).
The author feels torn between her native home and the home in which the educational books she reads comes from because of her friend. She describes his features and coloring along with his personality, “Eddie with the pale blue eyes and straw-coloured hair – the living image of his father, though often as silent as his mother – who first infected me with doubts about ‘home’, meaning England” (2358). The English were seen as superior and their books were published and read though-out the islands instead of the natives books. When the author talks about the Eddie, of English decent, she mentions the appearance of him as almost perfect: “he never felt the heat; some coldness in his fair skin resisted it. He didn’t burn red or brown, he didn’t freckle much” (2359). Though Eddie is seen as English, he states that he doesn’t like strawberries or daffodils showing that he doesn’t listen to the propaganda that England is better than the islands.
The book burning by Mrs. Sawyer symbolized the colonization of the islands by the English and how the native people felt about it. Specifically, Mrs. Sawyer burns a book by Christina Rossetti, a symbol for all women writers who have been published, representing that it was worse to join the oppressor than be oppressed. To show the authors own mixed feelings about the islands and England she uses hybridity of her native tongue with English.
The last symbol in the story is the book that she grabs when running from the house, “Fort Comme La Mori” meaning strong as death in French. It is symbolic of the strength needed to overcome oppression and the authority figures keeping her and her people there. Taking the book is a small way of fighting back the society’s rules.
Wole Soyinka, author of Telephone Conversation, also writes about oppression by racism in the twentieth century by describing his hunt for a place to live in England and his difficulty finding one. He discusses the price being right and notes that the location of the building doesn’t matter. Soyinka feels the need for “self-confession” which is ironic because he has no control over his skin color, therefore no reason to need to confess anything. Continuing on though, he warns the landlady, “Madam, I hate a wasted journey – I am African” (4-5). He tells us his image of her; a snooty, well-bred women smoking a cigarette with lipstick-lined lips. She asks him “How dark? Are you light or very dark?” (10-11).
Soyinka next describes the smell of the callbox symbolizing the smell of society and how they everything stay that way instead of working to fix it. He mentions seeing red everywhere, “Red booth. Red pillar-box. Red double-tiered Omnibus” are all symbols that imperialism is everywhere (2530). Questioning him further the landlady asks him to compare his skin color to the familiar object of milk, plain or chocolate. He responds that he is many colors including “brunette”, “peroxide blonde”, and “raven black” suggesting that she just see for herself before judging him. Offering that she takes a look at him instead of simply deciding over the phone suggests that she get to know him instead of judging him and refusing him a room based on his skin color.
By pushing that option, Soyinka brings to light a new way for people to live free of oppression. Progress has been made from Woolf’s time of just writing about having people push certain classes or colors or groups of people around, to actually speaking up about it. Woolf’s essay explains the reasons why women are oppressed, by extension races, and now that those reasons are written and known people can begin acting and fighting back against begin put down.
Robert Graves’ poem Recalling War begins looking back on World War I from the point of view of the soldiers still alive who have been injured. Graves first gives the reader a sense that the soldiers are better off for serving in the war when he states that those with prosthetic limbs forget about them and that “The blinded man sees with his ears and hands / as much or more than once with both his eyes” (5-6). The tone shifts slightly when he mentions the “healthy dying” which was common in war when soldiers were accidentally shot, but preceding that talks of how “Death was young” which is something that shouldn’t be normal but is happening (19, 18). Following up to ferment the youth of those fighting, Graves adds that the soldiers are like “child(ren)” with “toy-like” guns (40, 42). When he specifically discusses war, Graves is negative, stating that it is “an infection of the common sky” and the “return of earth to ugly earth” where “Down in a row the brave tin-solders fall” (12, 31, 43). Wilfred Owen’s Dulce Et Decorum Est clearly complies with “Recalling War” when describing the soldiers by saying that “All went lame; all blind; / Drunk with fatigue” and also referring to them as “children” (6-7, 26). Visual and auditory imagery aid the reader to fully understand the violence of the war going on around them. Owen graphically describes a scene in which tear gas has been dropped around him and his fellow soldiers saying that there was “An ecstasy of fumbling” while everyone put on their masks and helmets but “someone still was yelling out and stumbling, / And flound’ring like a man in fire” (9, 11-12). The violence continues as Owen watches the man slowly “drown” in the gas until “He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning”, dying a very painful death (14, 16). That soldier continues to haunt Owen in his dreams and he wishes that the reader “could pace / Behind the wagon that we flung him in, / And watch the white eyes writhing in his face” (17-19). Lastly, Owen mentions that “Dulce et decorum est” is an “old Lie” that it is not nice to die for one’s country (27).
The opposite of the violence in and against war poems is the violence in and against individuals. Seamus Heaney’s poem Punishment describes a young girl who is malnourished and about to be drowned because of adultery. This particular poem shows a violence unlike any other violence written about in society; violence against an individual for ritualistic purposes. Like Owen’s poem, visual imagery is used so that the reader better understands the girl’s situation. For example, “the wind…blows her nipples to amber beads, it shakes the frail rigging of her ribs” showing that she is cold, starved and naked but he doesn’t stop there, he continues to detail her death in the bog by mentioning small things like “The weighing stone, / the floating rods and boughs” (3-8, 11-12). Almost feeling sympathy for “her shaved head / like a stubble of black corn” Heaney recalls that he “would have cast…the stones of silence” also if he was in her society (17-18, 30-31). Recognizing that the “poor scapegoat” isn’t the only one who participated in the adulterous acts she is being convicted of, Heaney stands in “civilized outrage yet understand(s) the exact and tribal, intimate revenge” because he understands that as a product of a society that accepts ritualized violence but also knows he can’t stop it (28, 42-44).
The Twentieth century was a time of great change in which oppression majorly ceased to exist as awareness was raised with the written word by authors who have experienced it firsthand and the war in society changed from universal to individual. People are no longer oppressed by their race or gender and violence has shifted from military to the individual in a ritualistic manner.
Thanks for reading! I know it was intimidating. :)See y'all in 24 days at the wedding!
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