May 20, 2013
Essay titled "Rain" by guest blogger, Jill Sanders
Rain
By Jill Sanders
As she headed for her sister’s funeral three hours south and three days away Barbara said to me, “I hope it doesn’t rain.”
Understanding the mood that rain sets, especially during a funeral service, I replied, “I hope it doesn’t rain for you, too. I’ll be thinking of you. Have a safe trip.”
Three days later, near 2:00 pm – the hour of the funeral, I stepped outside to feed my cats across the yard under the portico of the unattached garage. The sky overhead suggested rain may fall. As I emptied the bag of cat food into their bowl, the rain droplets began. “Oh, no,” I said as I thought of my friend; hoping that the rain had not traveled south.
As I walked back toward my house I noticed the raindrops gently falling on my arms. I remembered a saying that was shared with me, “Some people walk in the rain and get wet, others feel the rain and know joy.” I realized that I had been thinking of getting wet. I stopped myself from that thought and decided to feel the rain; something I had not done before. As each drop splattered on my arms, I noticed the cool sensation it produced. I thought of the miracle of rain as it watered all of the growing life surrounding me. I looked up toward the sky and let the water sprinkle my face, as I opened my mouth to catch a few of the thirst quenching droplets. I noticed the leaves on the trees turned upward as if to capture and cradle the drops for their own vitality. Rain, such a wondrous miracle I thought as it began to rain harder.
I noticed a hole in my graveled driveway capturing a small pool of water. With my flip flops on my feet, I splashed my foot down into it; and thought of my childhood days when I would splash about in the warmed summer puddles after a rain and be quite happy. I scurried up the driveway to the road remembering how rain would coax worms from their underground tunnels. To my delight there were three worms squiggling around on the pavement. They were reddish brown and plump. Along the side of the road there were narrow trenches recently dug out by the county road workers. Soft gurgling noises emanated from them as they channeled the rain downward with the sloping road, delighting my ears. Further up next to the road, in a divot made by a tractor, a small pool formed where speckled wood frogs were soaking as they made high pitch croaking sounds. With the drops hitting the pavement as if creating a gentle back beat, the song of rain permeated the air.
I was getting wet; but I didn’t care. My husband yelled out to me from the front door, “What the hell are you doing out there. Have you lost all sense? Come back inside.”
“I’m feeling the rain!” I yelled back.
“You’re doing what?”
“I’m feeling the rain. Come on out and join me. It’s great!”
Well, he just stepped away from the door back into the house. I am sure he was thinking I had plumb lost my mind. I saw the clouds sporting all shades of gray and purple roll by. There was a hint of sunshine poking through one small area as if it were saying, “I’m still here. Just wait a bit.” Then it disappeared back into the grayness.
The ripple of thunder could be heard in the far distance. The storm was picking up steam. Suddenly a wide bolt of lightning lit the sky and a large cracking noise filled my ears; as if Thor himself had cracked a large whip through the stars. I knew when to quit; not wanting to be among the trees of the surrounding forest as the heart of the storm would pass by.
I came inside bearing a big grin on my face. I had felt the rain. My husband looked at me as if I was crazy. As I stood soaking wet on the welcoming mat, I motioned for my husband to come to me. I am sure he was expecting a big old wet kiss. Instead, I shook my body as violently as I could to allow some of the clinging drops to fall upon him. “What’s wrong with you?” he said in obvious un-appreciation for the gift.
“Nothing,” I replied. “Nothing at all.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” he muttered as he picked up a nearby dish towel and wiped the few droplets off of his arms.
I scampered upstairs and donned some sweats. Once again warmed, I joined my husband on the couch as we watched some NBA tournament play. I couldn’t get the thought of my friend out of my mind as I watched the rain through the window, now gentle again, fall softly from the sky.
The rain is a metaphor, my brain talked to me. It is a metaphor for your friend and all of her emotions. The sad side of rain pours forth for her loss. It usurps the tears from her eyes and takes them back into the fold in a cleansing motion. It comes from her sorrow. She cannot know sorrow unless it has been built on the foundation of great love. Love breeds sorrow, as the illusion of love’s loss weaves its way into her soul. The rain takes her painful loss, and moves it away from her. This is the wet side of rain.
The feeling side of rain will remind her of all the joys and the happy tears. There were the times when she was so glad to see her sister that she cried. And there were the times that they were so happy or silly in the moment that they laughed together until they cried. They shared tears of happiness at births, graduations and weddings. The rain was reminding her of her tears of joy, not just her sorrow. The momentary sunburst spoke to that.
It all moved me. Yes, my friend was experiencing a great loss; but the sadness was hers alone, not the departed’s. For, in fact, she had not lost her sister at all. Her sister had only been momentarily displaced in form and was actually dwelling more snugly and closer within her heart than before her transformation. Her sister would be there with her more often than when she was on Earth with her body. Her sister would speak to her more frequently in the quiet and still moments of oft remembrances. They would bond again, even more tightly, as her sister was now free to walk with her in joy day to day.
Her sister freed my friend of all of her worries for her; for now she was safe, free from pain and dancing as never before. She was not gone; she was merely waiting and preparing to greet her again, to embrace her and care for her as she had done so many days earlier on Earth.
Now I see rain differently. I do not see the cold wetness it can bring. I see the life giving properties it holds. I will smile as I think of it as tears of joy spilling from the eyes of our loved ones, gone before us, as they check in with us from the heavens.
Yes, I thought. Rain is good, if we can only feel it.
###
"There are some griefs so loud
They could bring down the sky.
And there are griefs so still
None knows how deep they lie." May Sarton
I'm old enough now to have suffered many different kinds of grief. It seems to me the older I get and the more grief I encounter, it buries itself deep inside my soul.
I feel fortunate to have my faith in Jesus Christ to combat the grief of losing a loved one whom I know is in Heaven.
The afternoon that Sue died, shortly after her soul departed, my husband was standing in a farm field above our home, and he looked up. For a brief moment, he saw my sister dancing among the clouds. Our daughter came about that time to tell him my sister was gone. Her favorite hymn was played at the funeral.
"Dancing Shoes," by Squire Parsons.
"I'm gonna dance all over heaven in my dancing shoes." I know exactly where she is and what she is doing."
Have a blessed day whatever you are doing!!!
May 6, 2013
My Sister Donna Sue
I haven't been on here for awhile because of issues beyond my control. BUT I've missed blogging and my blogger friends. Hope all is well with you!
I made a quick trip to Tampa recently to visit my sister "Sue" who was quite ill and in the hospital as well.
We were able to have five days together before I had to leave. While I knew she was gravely ill, we shared many light moments and many moments that we were just big sister and little, hugging and giving each other advice. She wanted to take me shopping while I was there, she said, "To buy you something pretty." My sister had perfected the art of shopping like no other human I know. She could tell you which was the very best mattress to buy. What household applicance would outlast all others and first and foremost she could tell you where the best clothes for women could be purchased in the very latest styles. She had one of each item in her closet.
I borrowed a beautiful white cardigan one day to wear to the hospital over a thin shirt because I often got chilled while there. When I entered her room she admired the sweater and said I believe I have one just like it. I said I believe this one is yours. Oh, she said. Well take it home. Nope, I said you might need it. She insisted I take it and I did. So I'm wearing it this week in her honor to keep off the chill of the rainy Ohio day as I read her obituary.
She was and will always be my special sister. She baby sat me from when I was six to about eleven. She looked out for me, loaned me her clothes, made sure I was all right while our mom worked.
We had a step dad but he was often gone, working shift work in the local plant.
I'll miss her for many reasons but the one most outstanding is that I'm not sure anyone will ever love me again as she did, unconditionally. She thought I was perfect. How many of us have a person in our lives like this?
Here's the poem I wrote for her birthday one year.
DONNA’S BIRTHDAY
Oh, Donna Dear, your Birthday's here,
Whatever shall I do? Dance without shoes?
Sing you the Blues? But, ugh, those reviews!
You're near to my heart, Sister. You gave me my start.
So here's a poem-present and I hope your day's pleasant.
I'll start with, "I love you, but, will that do,
For a sister who loaned me her white buck shoes,
And her very last bottle of Halo Shampoo?
You danced and twirled and my straight hair you curled.
A black-eyed beauty, you took serious this sister-duty,
While I spent my days in a summer haze
You walked us through that sister-maze.
Can you remember the smell of that sweet clover?
"Red Rover, Red Rover, Send my sister, Donna, on over!"
Oh, to spend one more day of my youth with you.
We'd even invite cousin Anna and cousin Sue.
For old times sake, fudge and popcorn we'd make.
And, to the Boogie Man an iron skillet I'd take!
Maybe we'll never make it to the moon,
But can you come over real ... uh, ... how do you spell SOON?
In memory of my aggravating ways
And our letter-writing days.
I love you still.
I always will.
Your Little Sister, Bobbie
Obituary of Donna Sue Hoffman
Donna Sue Hoffman, 73, of Sun City Center, FL went home to be with the Lord May 3, 2013.
She was born in Beaver, WV to the late Cecil and Ollie Null (Bailey), and raised in Putnam County. Donna was a homemaker and a member of the First Baptist Church of Ruskin, FL.
She is preceded in death by her sister, Maxine Snodgrass, and brother, Ralph Null.
She is survived by her loving husband of 57 years, Mr. James "Brownie" Hoffman; daughters Deborah Kay Stegner and Teresa Ann Vollmer; sisters Ella Warren and Barbara Whittington; grandsons Kenny and Kevin Grantham, and special family friend John Zuchowski. She leaves to cherish her memory many nieces and nephews.
A tribute to her life will be 2:00 pm, Friday, May 10, 2013 at Gatens-Harding Funeral Home Chapel with Pastor Delbert Hawley officiating. Burial will follow in Walker Chapel Cemetery. The family will receive friends 6 to 8 pm Thursday at the funeral home.
In lieu of flowers the family suggests donations to Life Path Hospice, 3725 Upper Creek Drive, Ruskin, FL 33573.
Rest in peace dear Susie and hold a place at the supper table for me. I'll be along one day...
I made a quick trip to Tampa recently to visit my sister "Sue" who was quite ill and in the hospital as well.
We were able to have five days together before I had to leave. While I knew she was gravely ill, we shared many light moments and many moments that we were just big sister and little, hugging and giving each other advice. She wanted to take me shopping while I was there, she said, "To buy you something pretty." My sister had perfected the art of shopping like no other human I know. She could tell you which was the very best mattress to buy. What household applicance would outlast all others and first and foremost she could tell you where the best clothes for women could be purchased in the very latest styles. She had one of each item in her closet.
I borrowed a beautiful white cardigan one day to wear to the hospital over a thin shirt because I often got chilled while there. When I entered her room she admired the sweater and said I believe I have one just like it. I said I believe this one is yours. Oh, she said. Well take it home. Nope, I said you might need it. She insisted I take it and I did. So I'm wearing it this week in her honor to keep off the chill of the rainy Ohio day as I read her obituary.
She was and will always be my special sister. She baby sat me from when I was six to about eleven. She looked out for me, loaned me her clothes, made sure I was all right while our mom worked.
We had a step dad but he was often gone, working shift work in the local plant.
I'll miss her for many reasons but the one most outstanding is that I'm not sure anyone will ever love me again as she did, unconditionally. She thought I was perfect. How many of us have a person in our lives like this?
Here's the poem I wrote for her birthday one year.
DONNA’S BIRTHDAY
Oh, Donna Dear, your Birthday's here,
Whatever shall I do? Dance without shoes?
Sing you the Blues? But, ugh, those reviews!
You're near to my heart, Sister. You gave me my start.
So here's a poem-present and I hope your day's pleasant.
I'll start with, "I love you, but, will that do,
For a sister who loaned me her white buck shoes,
And her very last bottle of Halo Shampoo?
You danced and twirled and my straight hair you curled.
A black-eyed beauty, you took serious this sister-duty,
While I spent my days in a summer haze
You walked us through that sister-maze.
Can you remember the smell of that sweet clover?
"Red Rover, Red Rover, Send my sister, Donna, on over!"
Oh, to spend one more day of my youth with you.
We'd even invite cousin Anna and cousin Sue.
For old times sake, fudge and popcorn we'd make.
And, to the Boogie Man an iron skillet I'd take!
Maybe we'll never make it to the moon,
But can you come over real ... uh, ... how do you spell SOON?
In memory of my aggravating ways
And our letter-writing days.
I love you still.
I always will.
Your Little Sister, Bobbie
Obituary of Donna Sue Hoffman
Donna Sue Hoffman, 73, of Sun City Center, FL went home to be with the Lord May 3, 2013.
She was born in Beaver, WV to the late Cecil and Ollie Null (Bailey), and raised in Putnam County. Donna was a homemaker and a member of the First Baptist Church of Ruskin, FL.
She is preceded in death by her sister, Maxine Snodgrass, and brother, Ralph Null.
She is survived by her loving husband of 57 years, Mr. James "Brownie" Hoffman; daughters Deborah Kay Stegner and Teresa Ann Vollmer; sisters Ella Warren and Barbara Whittington; grandsons Kenny and Kevin Grantham, and special family friend John Zuchowski. She leaves to cherish her memory many nieces and nephews.
A tribute to her life will be 2:00 pm, Friday, May 10, 2013 at Gatens-Harding Funeral Home Chapel with Pastor Delbert Hawley officiating. Burial will follow in Walker Chapel Cemetery. The family will receive friends 6 to 8 pm Thursday at the funeral home.
In lieu of flowers the family suggests donations to Life Path Hospice, 3725 Upper Creek Drive, Ruskin, FL 33573.
Rest in peace dear Susie and hold a place at the supper table for me. I'll be along one day...
March 17, 2013
FREE FOR ST. PATRICK'S DAY - EZRA
FREE TODAY MARCH 17th. EBOOK. Click below. Collection of short stories. Enjoy!
March 15, 2013
Free on Kindle March 16th...
Vada Faith by Barbara A. Whittington - Free on Kindle Saturday, March 16th. Check it out!
www.amazon.com
www.amazon.com
March 6, 2013
Hoot and Marla --A story...
A popular story in Ezra and Other Stories is Hoot and Marla. Thought I'd share it with you here.
Ezra and Other Stories includes eleven stories and is on sale now for .99 at www.amazon.com.
Hoot and Marla
Hoot and Marla are on their way to Niagara Falls. Hoot's sister, Betty Sue, has talked Hoot into letting her come. She has brought along her boyfriend, Nick.
Hoot is driving the black Monte Carlo he bought last week for $800. Everyone is to chip in on the gas.
"All-my-x's-live-in-Tex-as," Hoot sings along with the radio, "that's why I hang my hat in Tennessee!" He taps his hand on the steering wheel in time to the music.
Hoot loves George Strait. Not as much as he loves Elvis though. Hoot is an Elvis Presley look alike. He's never traded on it or anything. But he can sing and play the guitar, too. Marla nearly dies when he sings, "Love me Tender." He's that good.
Now, as he sings, Hoot dusts the dash with his middle finger. Then he smacks the fuzzy blue dice hanging from the rear view mirror and they bounce back and forth.
For the last hour Nick has cracked his knuckles and studied the road map. The map is from triple A and so detailed Marla feels even she could get them to New York with it. But Marla isn't interested in any road map.
She has come on this trip strictly to be with Hoot. Instead she is sitting in the back seat with Betty Sue who has filed her long red nails ever since they left West Virginia. That was seven hours ago.
They have already come through Cleveland and are heading East on I-90. Hoot says Erie is their next stop. Marla is glad. Several hours ago they ate the bologna sandwiches she packed and she is hungry.
She pulls a tortoise-shell mirror from her purse and looks at herself. She pats her face with a tissue to take the shine off. She dabs some Paris Pink on her lips and blows her blond bangs off her forehead. She wishes it wasn't so hot. Hoot has the air-conditioner off. He says it saves on gas. Marla puts the mirror away and turns back to the billboards and signs.
That's how she is keeping busy. Reading billboards and signs. For what seems like hours now they have traveled past vineyards.
"Bob's Winery five miles ahead," Marla reads aloud in a monotone as they pass a billboard featuring a giant glass of bubbling champagne. She brightens, "Oh, let's stop!"
"Bob's Winery! Three miles ahead!"
"One mile!"
They come to the exit for Bob's Winery. Marla's eyes light up. A neon sign is flashing "Bob's Winery Here."
Hoot doesn't even slow the car. If anything, he speeds up. Marla closes her eyes and tries to imagine what a winery would be like. But even trying hard, she can't.
Now she fluctuates between reading signs and staring at the back of Hoot's head. She would love to touch his soft black hair but doesn't. He hates having his hair touched. He carries a comb in his back pocket and won't let one hair get out of place. Marla catches Hoot's eye in the rear view mirror. She smiles but he doesn't let on that he sees her. More and more lately he doesn't let on that he sees her. Sometimes she wonders if she is invisible. One day she was in the IGA and he looked right past her.
Between his long hours at the fire station and his singing gigs they are lucky to be together every other week now. When the idea for the trip came up, Marla was glad. This could be an investment in her future.
Betty Sue is busy highlighting certain passages in a True Story Magazine with a lemon-scented marker.
The air is heavy with HaiKarate. Hoot's. Marla loves smelling it on him. Especially when he is beside her on the blue shag carpet of her apartment watching Days of Our Lives. Hoot isn't hot or cold on any of the stars. But, Patch and Kayla are Marla's favorites. They are so much in love it hurts Marla to watch them. Something always happens to keep them apart. Patch is so open with his emotions it makes Marla want to cry. Marla can't imagine Hoot ever acting over her like Patch does over Kayla. Sometimes she wishes she wasn't so crazy in love with Hoot. She isn't so sure his feelings for her are all that deep. Particularly these days. He seems so preoccupied.
Suddenly Hoot slams on the brakes and Marla and Betty Sue are nearly thrown into the front seat. A flat-bed truck has come to a complete stop on the highway in front of them. The driver of the truck is an old man who seems to have missed his exit and is starting to back up toward them.
Without pause, Hoot passes, laying on the horn and giving the old man the finger.
Hoot and Nick get into a big discussion of fishing for bass. Marla knows for a fact all Hoot knows about fishing for bass is what he has read in the Outdoor Journal of Ohio, Pennsylvania and West Virginia which he reads from cover to cover. As far as Marla knows Hoot has never been fishing and he lives near the river.
"I want to be a pro at it when I do go," he said to her once when she complained that he should be fishing not reading. He is the only person Marla knows who wants to read about everything. Just the week before he read a dozen books on the Falls.
"Hand me one of them Cokes, Marla," Hoot says now and she takes the lid from the red and white plastic cooler at her feet, opens the can and hands it over the seat. Her older sister, Shirley Jean, says Marla lets Hoot boss her too much. Maybe she does. But she wants to marry Hoot so bad she will do almost anything he asks to please him.
It was the invitation to her class reunion that really got her thinking. She is the only girl from her class who is still single. Her mother laughs and says she's only 23 and why worry. But she does.
She has heard Hoot laugh and say that the life of a firefighter isn't one for a married man. He says the job is too dangerous. But, Marla doesn't buy any of this. If there's any danger it's in Hoot's head.
The Chesterville fire truck hardly ever leaves the station except when Hoot drives it up to the IGA for groceries. That's how she met him. In the express check-out. They'd struck up a conversation over a can of Chefboyardee Ravioli which was on special and exactly what they'd both come there to buy. That was last summer. They have been seeing each other off and on ever since.
Marla is hoping when they get to the Falls they can be alone. That somehow there will be a turning point. Something tells her this trip is more than just a simple trip. She's brought along a bottle of Andre Champagne and two plastic champagne glasses from K-Mart just in case.
At the Falls they plan to get two rooms. She will have to bunk with Betty Sue. But somehow or other she plans to get Hoot alone.
Hoot is interested mainly in the Elvis Presley Museum. Marla doesn't care about seeing a living room lamp from Graceland or the first dollar-bill Elvis ever made. But she would never tell Hoot that. Elvis is more than Hoot's idol. It spooks Marla to think about it. How much Hoot is like Elvis. Down to how he lifts his lip when he sings. Even his mother's name is Grace.
Hoot and Marla's relationship has developed mostly in Marla's apartment on Main Street over top of Charlie's U-Call-We-Haul Trucking Company in the few hours she isn't working the McDonald's drive-thru. That's how she was able to come on this trip. She takes every hour she can get.
Earlier, as they were loading the car for the trip, Marla mentioned riding the Maid of the Mist. And visiting Tussaud's Wax Museum. Charlie, from U-Call, said George Burns looks real and Marla wants to see for herself. Hoot didn't say one way or the other. All he said was he heard you got wet riding the Maid of the Mist. He was in the middle of telling Nick about the Elvis Museum and how they were about to see the largest private collection of Elvis memorabilia in the world. Nick wasn't even listening, just tossing suitcases into the trunk as fast as he could and blowing bubbles with a wad of Juicy Fruit.
In Erie they gas up at a Sunoco and then Hoot parks over to the side of the station and they all go to use the restrooms. On the way back they get ham sandwiches out of a machine and Marla buys herself a Zagnut and gets a Zero for Hoot. He loves Zeros. They are hard to find. She decides to buy two.
Nick stares at Marla as they get back into the car. She is wearing a red halter top with her navy shorts and her new leather sandals. She has the best tan she's ever had. She's been twenty times to the tanning bed. She just hopes she doesn't get skin cancer for being so vain.
Hoot has never noticed that she is evenly tanned all over. She notices everything about him. He only gets a tan on his face and arms. He never wears shorts. She is surprised he will wear muscle shirts. But he does. He has one on now and she loves him in it. It is red to match her halter top. She has asked him specifically to wear the shirt.
In the front seat Hoot and Nick are arguing over the route they are taking. Hoot says he bets there is a more direct route to Buffalo. He said they probably didn't need to go through Cleveland at all. He accused Nick of wanting to go through Cleveland just to say he'd been there. Nick has people in Euclid.
Marla doesn't care which route they take. She just wants to get there.
She has brought enough clothes to stay two weeks but they only plan to be gone for four days. The trunk is packed full and Hoot even has one suitcase tied on top of the Monte Carlo.
Shirley Jean, who used to work for Reynolds Aluminum, has lent Marla all of her clothes. They both wear a size 7. Her mother has said to enjoy being small because the women in her family tend to pick up weight when they have babies. Marla doesn't particularly like babies. She isn't sure she wants any for herself.
"I bet if you marry Hoot and he wants a dozen kids you'll probably jump right in and have 'em," Shirley Jean teased Marla as she folded clothes for the trip. Marla just smiled.
Shirley Jean is dating a man called Eddie from Virginia. He drives over almost every week-end. He has a boat back in Virginia and he has offered to take them all out in it. Hoot can't swim. She thinks this may be why he always turns Eddie down. She can swim and has been begging Hoot to go.
Eddie is the opposite of Hoot. He started getting his tan early at a tanning bed too and now is golden brown. His brown hair is streaked with gold and much of the time he visits Shirley Jean he wears only swimming trunks. He has a 14K gold chain around his neck and wears a nugget ring. Marla has asked Hoot to wear a gold chain but he refuses. She bought him one for Christmas but he took it back and got some flannel shirts with the money.
Betty Sue has been massaging Nick's neck over the seat. Marla is sure they have an intimate relationship just by the way they act when they're together. At least Nick has told Betty Sue he wants to marry her. He has talked about going to Cleveland to look for a job. He is laid-off from his construction job. He is a welder, a good one he says, and can get work anywhere. Hoot says Nick is all talk. Marla wonders.
Hoot pulls into a roadside park. The Monte Carlo is starting to heat up. Betty Sue and Nick disappear laughing into a grove of trees. Hoot appears agitated as he swings out of the car and puts the hood up. He leans against a tree to smoke.
Marla sits in the car for a minute before getting out to lean against the tree with Hoot. She moves over and kisses him. He kisses her back. But for only a minute.
"Hey," he says, looking over his shoulder, "there's people around." She sees one man at the far end of the park. Otherwise they are alone. She puts her arms around Hoot again and he pushes her away, this time Marla loses her balance and nearly falls.
Just then a semi pulls in not far from them and the bearded trucker that gets out looks Marla over from head to toe. He smiles and winks. Hoot has his head under the hood of the car and doesn't see.
The thought that he wouldn't care if he did see makes Marla's breath catch in her throat. It is at that exact moment that she knows for sure what she has suspected all along. Hoot has no intention of riding the Maid of the Mist. Or visiting the Tussaud's Wax Museum. Or marrying her. Not now. Not ever.
A cold wind whips across the parking lot and Marla shivers. She reaches into the back seat for her sweater and notices the brown bag with the champagne. She takes it from the car and heads to the rest room. Inside the cubicle she stares at the Andre Champagne and the two plastic glasses for a moment before pushing them through the lid of the trash can. They hit the metal bottom with a loud clatter.
She unwraps a Zero and eats it as she walks back to the car.
"How far have we got to go?" she asks as Hoot closes the hood of the car.
"Not far," he says. He slides into the car, turns on the ignition and the radio at the same time. "Wasted days and wasted nights," Hoot sings loudly, nearly drowning out Freddy Fender.
Betty Sue and Nick smile as they get into the car.
Nobody notices Marla as they head down the highway. She is ripping the brochure for the Elvis Museum into the tiniest pieces and is letting them blow, one by one, out the window and into the hot air.
the end
A REVIEW OF EZRA FROM AMAZON
The latest book from Barbara Whittington was a fun read! I enjoyed the
stories about people and life in small towns in West Virginia. Some of
the stories were pleasant reminders of simpler times....things that
anyone could relate to his/her own family. Some stories were funny,
some serious, and some you didn't want to see end. I would be very
happy to see Ms. Whittington expand some of these stories, in fact.
Sometimes, short stories can expand to novels, if the author is so
inclined! I would encourage this author to explore the possibility of
doing just that!! I would love to continue looking in on the lives of
some of these characters...where did their lives end up taking them, and
what was the road like to get there? I encourage everyone to take a
look at the simpler life and enjoy reading Ezra and Other Stories! FOUR STAR REVIEW by Vicki B (Richard B) Plano, TX
Ezra and Other Stories includes eleven stories and is on sale now for .99 at www.amazon.com.
Hoot and Marla
Hoot and Marla are on their way to Niagara Falls. Hoot's sister, Betty Sue, has talked Hoot into letting her come. She has brought along her boyfriend, Nick.
Hoot is driving the black Monte Carlo he bought last week for $800. Everyone is to chip in on the gas.
"All-my-x's-live-in-Tex-as," Hoot sings along with the radio, "that's why I hang my hat in Tennessee!" He taps his hand on the steering wheel in time to the music.
Hoot loves George Strait. Not as much as he loves Elvis though. Hoot is an Elvis Presley look alike. He's never traded on it or anything. But he can sing and play the guitar, too. Marla nearly dies when he sings, "Love me Tender." He's that good.
Now, as he sings, Hoot dusts the dash with his middle finger. Then he smacks the fuzzy blue dice hanging from the rear view mirror and they bounce back and forth.
For the last hour Nick has cracked his knuckles and studied the road map. The map is from triple A and so detailed Marla feels even she could get them to New York with it. But Marla isn't interested in any road map.
She has come on this trip strictly to be with Hoot. Instead she is sitting in the back seat with Betty Sue who has filed her long red nails ever since they left West Virginia. That was seven hours ago.
They have already come through Cleveland and are heading East on I-90. Hoot says Erie is their next stop. Marla is glad. Several hours ago they ate the bologna sandwiches she packed and she is hungry.
She pulls a tortoise-shell mirror from her purse and looks at herself. She pats her face with a tissue to take the shine off. She dabs some Paris Pink on her lips and blows her blond bangs off her forehead. She wishes it wasn't so hot. Hoot has the air-conditioner off. He says it saves on gas. Marla puts the mirror away and turns back to the billboards and signs.
That's how she is keeping busy. Reading billboards and signs. For what seems like hours now they have traveled past vineyards.
"Bob's Winery five miles ahead," Marla reads aloud in a monotone as they pass a billboard featuring a giant glass of bubbling champagne. She brightens, "Oh, let's stop!"
"Bob's Winery! Three miles ahead!"
"One mile!"
They come to the exit for Bob's Winery. Marla's eyes light up. A neon sign is flashing "Bob's Winery Here."
Hoot doesn't even slow the car. If anything, he speeds up. Marla closes her eyes and tries to imagine what a winery would be like. But even trying hard, she can't.
Now she fluctuates between reading signs and staring at the back of Hoot's head. She would love to touch his soft black hair but doesn't. He hates having his hair touched. He carries a comb in his back pocket and won't let one hair get out of place. Marla catches Hoot's eye in the rear view mirror. She smiles but he doesn't let on that he sees her. More and more lately he doesn't let on that he sees her. Sometimes she wonders if she is invisible. One day she was in the IGA and he looked right past her.
Between his long hours at the fire station and his singing gigs they are lucky to be together every other week now. When the idea for the trip came up, Marla was glad. This could be an investment in her future.
Betty Sue is busy highlighting certain passages in a True Story Magazine with a lemon-scented marker.
The air is heavy with HaiKarate. Hoot's. Marla loves smelling it on him. Especially when he is beside her on the blue shag carpet of her apartment watching Days of Our Lives. Hoot isn't hot or cold on any of the stars. But, Patch and Kayla are Marla's favorites. They are so much in love it hurts Marla to watch them. Something always happens to keep them apart. Patch is so open with his emotions it makes Marla want to cry. Marla can't imagine Hoot ever acting over her like Patch does over Kayla. Sometimes she wishes she wasn't so crazy in love with Hoot. She isn't so sure his feelings for her are all that deep. Particularly these days. He seems so preoccupied.
Suddenly Hoot slams on the brakes and Marla and Betty Sue are nearly thrown into the front seat. A flat-bed truck has come to a complete stop on the highway in front of them. The driver of the truck is an old man who seems to have missed his exit and is starting to back up toward them.
Without pause, Hoot passes, laying on the horn and giving the old man the finger.
Hoot and Nick get into a big discussion of fishing for bass. Marla knows for a fact all Hoot knows about fishing for bass is what he has read in the Outdoor Journal of Ohio, Pennsylvania and West Virginia which he reads from cover to cover. As far as Marla knows Hoot has never been fishing and he lives near the river.
"I want to be a pro at it when I do go," he said to her once when she complained that he should be fishing not reading. He is the only person Marla knows who wants to read about everything. Just the week before he read a dozen books on the Falls.
"Hand me one of them Cokes, Marla," Hoot says now and she takes the lid from the red and white plastic cooler at her feet, opens the can and hands it over the seat. Her older sister, Shirley Jean, says Marla lets Hoot boss her too much. Maybe she does. But she wants to marry Hoot so bad she will do almost anything he asks to please him.
It was the invitation to her class reunion that really got her thinking. She is the only girl from her class who is still single. Her mother laughs and says she's only 23 and why worry. But she does.
She has heard Hoot laugh and say that the life of a firefighter isn't one for a married man. He says the job is too dangerous. But, Marla doesn't buy any of this. If there's any danger it's in Hoot's head.
The Chesterville fire truck hardly ever leaves the station except when Hoot drives it up to the IGA for groceries. That's how she met him. In the express check-out. They'd struck up a conversation over a can of Chefboyardee Ravioli which was on special and exactly what they'd both come there to buy. That was last summer. They have been seeing each other off and on ever since.
Marla is hoping when they get to the Falls they can be alone. That somehow there will be a turning point. Something tells her this trip is more than just a simple trip. She's brought along a bottle of Andre Champagne and two plastic champagne glasses from K-Mart just in case.
At the Falls they plan to get two rooms. She will have to bunk with Betty Sue. But somehow or other she plans to get Hoot alone.
Hoot is interested mainly in the Elvis Presley Museum. Marla doesn't care about seeing a living room lamp from Graceland or the first dollar-bill Elvis ever made. But she would never tell Hoot that. Elvis is more than Hoot's idol. It spooks Marla to think about it. How much Hoot is like Elvis. Down to how he lifts his lip when he sings. Even his mother's name is Grace.
Hoot and Marla's relationship has developed mostly in Marla's apartment on Main Street over top of Charlie's U-Call-We-Haul Trucking Company in the few hours she isn't working the McDonald's drive-thru. That's how she was able to come on this trip. She takes every hour she can get.
Earlier, as they were loading the car for the trip, Marla mentioned riding the Maid of the Mist. And visiting Tussaud's Wax Museum. Charlie, from U-Call, said George Burns looks real and Marla wants to see for herself. Hoot didn't say one way or the other. All he said was he heard you got wet riding the Maid of the Mist. He was in the middle of telling Nick about the Elvis Museum and how they were about to see the largest private collection of Elvis memorabilia in the world. Nick wasn't even listening, just tossing suitcases into the trunk as fast as he could and blowing bubbles with a wad of Juicy Fruit.
In Erie they gas up at a Sunoco and then Hoot parks over to the side of the station and they all go to use the restrooms. On the way back they get ham sandwiches out of a machine and Marla buys herself a Zagnut and gets a Zero for Hoot. He loves Zeros. They are hard to find. She decides to buy two.
Nick stares at Marla as they get back into the car. She is wearing a red halter top with her navy shorts and her new leather sandals. She has the best tan she's ever had. She's been twenty times to the tanning bed. She just hopes she doesn't get skin cancer for being so vain.
Hoot has never noticed that she is evenly tanned all over. She notices everything about him. He only gets a tan on his face and arms. He never wears shorts. She is surprised he will wear muscle shirts. But he does. He has one on now and she loves him in it. It is red to match her halter top. She has asked him specifically to wear the shirt.
In the front seat Hoot and Nick are arguing over the route they are taking. Hoot says he bets there is a more direct route to Buffalo. He said they probably didn't need to go through Cleveland at all. He accused Nick of wanting to go through Cleveland just to say he'd been there. Nick has people in Euclid.
Marla doesn't care which route they take. She just wants to get there.
She has brought enough clothes to stay two weeks but they only plan to be gone for four days. The trunk is packed full and Hoot even has one suitcase tied on top of the Monte Carlo.
Shirley Jean, who used to work for Reynolds Aluminum, has lent Marla all of her clothes. They both wear a size 7. Her mother has said to enjoy being small because the women in her family tend to pick up weight when they have babies. Marla doesn't particularly like babies. She isn't sure she wants any for herself.
"I bet if you marry Hoot and he wants a dozen kids you'll probably jump right in and have 'em," Shirley Jean teased Marla as she folded clothes for the trip. Marla just smiled.
Shirley Jean is dating a man called Eddie from Virginia. He drives over almost every week-end. He has a boat back in Virginia and he has offered to take them all out in it. Hoot can't swim. She thinks this may be why he always turns Eddie down. She can swim and has been begging Hoot to go.
Eddie is the opposite of Hoot. He started getting his tan early at a tanning bed too and now is golden brown. His brown hair is streaked with gold and much of the time he visits Shirley Jean he wears only swimming trunks. He has a 14K gold chain around his neck and wears a nugget ring. Marla has asked Hoot to wear a gold chain but he refuses. She bought him one for Christmas but he took it back and got some flannel shirts with the money.
Betty Sue has been massaging Nick's neck over the seat. Marla is sure they have an intimate relationship just by the way they act when they're together. At least Nick has told Betty Sue he wants to marry her. He has talked about going to Cleveland to look for a job. He is laid-off from his construction job. He is a welder, a good one he says, and can get work anywhere. Hoot says Nick is all talk. Marla wonders.
Hoot pulls into a roadside park. The Monte Carlo is starting to heat up. Betty Sue and Nick disappear laughing into a grove of trees. Hoot appears agitated as he swings out of the car and puts the hood up. He leans against a tree to smoke.
Marla sits in the car for a minute before getting out to lean against the tree with Hoot. She moves over and kisses him. He kisses her back. But for only a minute.
"Hey," he says, looking over his shoulder, "there's people around." She sees one man at the far end of the park. Otherwise they are alone. She puts her arms around Hoot again and he pushes her away, this time Marla loses her balance and nearly falls.
Just then a semi pulls in not far from them and the bearded trucker that gets out looks Marla over from head to toe. He smiles and winks. Hoot has his head under the hood of the car and doesn't see.
The thought that he wouldn't care if he did see makes Marla's breath catch in her throat. It is at that exact moment that she knows for sure what she has suspected all along. Hoot has no intention of riding the Maid of the Mist. Or visiting the Tussaud's Wax Museum. Or marrying her. Not now. Not ever.
A cold wind whips across the parking lot and Marla shivers. She reaches into the back seat for her sweater and notices the brown bag with the champagne. She takes it from the car and heads to the rest room. Inside the cubicle she stares at the Andre Champagne and the two plastic glasses for a moment before pushing them through the lid of the trash can. They hit the metal bottom with a loud clatter.
She unwraps a Zero and eats it as she walks back to the car.
"How far have we got to go?" she asks as Hoot closes the hood of the car.
"Not far," he says. He slides into the car, turns on the ignition and the radio at the same time. "Wasted days and wasted nights," Hoot sings loudly, nearly drowning out Freddy Fender.
Betty Sue and Nick smile as they get into the car.
Nobody notices Marla as they head down the highway. She is ripping the brochure for the Elvis Museum into the tiniest pieces and is letting them blow, one by one, out the window and into the hot air.
the end
A REVIEW OF EZRA FROM AMAZON
The latest book from Barbara Whittington was a fun read! I enjoyed the
stories about people and life in small towns in West Virginia. Some of
the stories were pleasant reminders of simpler times....things that
anyone could relate to his/her own family. Some stories were funny,
some serious, and some you didn't want to see end. I would be very
happy to see Ms. Whittington expand some of these stories, in fact.
Sometimes, short stories can expand to novels, if the author is so
inclined! I would encourage this author to explore the possibility of
doing just that!! I would love to continue looking in on the lives of
some of these characters...where did their lives end up taking them, and
what was the road like to get there? I encourage everyone to take a
look at the simpler life and enjoy reading Ezra and Other Stories! FOUR STAR REVIEW by Vicki B (Richard B) Plano, TXMarch 2, 2013
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| PAPERBACK COMING IN TWO MONTHS!!! |
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| Author: Barbara A. Whittington |
Curl up in an easy chair and enjoy the romance,
suspense, and humor in this collection of short stories. Here’s just a
sampling: in award winning “Mabel and the Garage Sale,” Mabel’s house
rests in the path of a proposed highway. As Mabel sorts her things to
move, she recalls those colorful characters who’ve passed through her
life. She’s survived the Bible salesman, and “Spook” Lanham. Even her
son, Jackie Lee's, father! Now - a new, rich, romantic prospect shows up
at her garage sale. Will she accept the man’s offer?
The story, “Delphine and Rainelle,” poses the question: is a trip to Myrtle Beach enough to make up for infidelity? What about a new car? Is a family worth saving - at all costs?
Will the two women in “Joy Ruth and Minnie Hendrix” find more than a pre planned funeral over at Miller’s Funeral home? Perhaps even romance?
Newlyweds, “Wally and Bun,” are set for life as they fly off in a hot air balloon, leaving their friend, Murphy, to figure out where he stands with the girl he left behind many years ago.
“Eve and Marcus Welby” finds Eve searching for love in college classes given to her by her mother. But, is Eve somehow destined to have only her cats to love?
It’s hard to soar like an eagle when you’re working with turkeys, Stevie writes with his label maker, as he tries to win Macon over as they work together. Will Macon, in “Macon for Georgia,” give Stevie a chance and let the abusive LaRue go?
And, can only the young find the kind of love that makes your pulse race and your palms sweat? “Ezra” certainly offers hope for those who feel they may have missed the love boat.
The story, “Delphine and Rainelle,” poses the question: is a trip to Myrtle Beach enough to make up for infidelity? What about a new car? Is a family worth saving - at all costs?
Will the two women in “Joy Ruth and Minnie Hendrix” find more than a pre planned funeral over at Miller’s Funeral home? Perhaps even romance?
Newlyweds, “Wally and Bun,” are set for life as they fly off in a hot air balloon, leaving their friend, Murphy, to figure out where he stands with the girl he left behind many years ago.
“Eve and Marcus Welby” finds Eve searching for love in college classes given to her by her mother. But, is Eve somehow destined to have only her cats to love?
It’s hard to soar like an eagle when you’re working with turkeys, Stevie writes with his label maker, as he tries to win Macon over as they work together. Will Macon, in “Macon for Georgia,” give Stevie a chance and let the abusive LaRue go?
And, can only the young find the kind of love that makes your pulse race and your palms sweat? “Ezra” certainly offers hope for those who feel they may have missed the love boat.
Other books by Barbara A. Whittington include Vada Faith, a story of a surrogacy gone wrong/ complex relationships and solid family values - available on Amazon as a paperback and Kindle edition. Check it out at www.amazon.com
February 23, 2013
Thanks to Elizabeth, Karen, and Adrienne
Here are a few samples of reviews that people have left for my book VADA FAITH.
So appreciate each person who has taken the time to read the book and then to review it! All time consuming. Blessings to all of you!
5.0 out of 5 stars
Exploring the human heart, April 5, 2012
By
Amazon Verified Purchase
When her impulsive decision to become a surrogate mother turns out to be
a terrible mistake, Vada Faith finds herself in the middle of a storm.
No matter what she does, someone will be hurt. In her debut novel,
Barbara Whittington has created an outspoken, lovable character, filled
with dreams, who will make you laugh and cry. If you like books that
explore the human heart, you'll love being with Vada Faith as she
decides what is important in her life. I know I did.
5.0 out of 5 stars
Vada Faith, March 14, 2012
By
karen m -Amazon Verified Purchase
I loved this book. It's easy to relate to and empathize with the well
developed characters. The story "teaches" a good lesson and really
makes the reader think about what is truly important. I recommend it!!
Can't wait for Barbara Whittington's next novel.
5.0 out of 5 stars
Vada Faith
Charming, June 7, 2012
By
Adrienne (WILMINGTON, DE, US) -This review is from: Vada Faith (Kindle Edition)
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