Sunday, October 26, 2008
Has everyone been busy with other classes?
I've been busy taking Writeriffic the last several weeks. It's been a supportive class much like Beginning Writing. Has everyone else been enjoying the class they took? If so, what class did you take and what have you liked about it?
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Saving Alyson
Rough draft- The initial scene was from a dream I had. I think there was a man in the room with me, but I couldn't clarify who he would be. I am still fleshing this one out. I do have an idea for the rest of the story.
The rain softly tapped on the window, streaming down the slick surface, beads of water gathering and separating almost like they were dancing on the glass. Alyson’s forehead pressed against the glass, her fingers tracing the water beads; barely 3 ft tall, she stands looking down 15 stories to the street below. Barely visible she strains to see the people scurrying around below.
Her captor or rather her savior gently places her hand on her shoulders, guiding her away from the window.
I too strain my eyes looking down 15 stories, hoping she is no longer standing on the sidewalk below.
“Would you like something to eat?” I softly ask Alyson.
She’s so small, so frail. I look at her small frame and think to myself how tiny she is for being six. Her long strands of hair are matted together, the shimmer long gone from years of neglect. The dirty smudges on her face are resemblances of the smudges that I know are on her soul and heart. So frail; yet so strong. I am always amazed at what the human spirit can survive. Her dark eyes are lifeless. I don’t think I will ever get used to looking into eyes whose light has been extinguished by the cruelty of man.
A knock on the door makes both of us jump. I scurry her off to the back bedroom and remind her that she needs to be very quiet. I apologize to her one more time as I slip her into the closet and close the door behind me. My heart hurts that she is left alone in the dark one more time but it can’t be helped. If they find her here she will undoubtedly be taken back to her home and I carted off to jail. This is not my brightest moment by far. I must have lost my mind just long enough to turn my world upside down.
“Who is it?” I ask.
My heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest. I’m shaking, inhale, exhale, come on breathe Angela. God please, steady me Lord.
“Angela it’s me again.”
“Susan? I thought we were done.”
“Open up Angela, this isn’t CPS Susan, this is friend Susan. You’ve got to hear me out.”
“Yea, of course, come in. Please have a seat.”
“No need to be so formal. What are doing Angela?”
“What do mean?”“You will lose your job and you will go to jail.”
“That’s assuming I’ve done something worthy of losing my job and going to jail. I’ve already told you, I know nothing about Alyson. I am worried sick about her, but part of me can’t help but wonder if she isn’t better off lost somewhere than in her own home.”
“Now you see, you do know something, because the Angela I know wouldn’t be okay with her lost somewhere. Angela damn it, let me help you. It’s not too late to fix it, I can fix this still, but tomorrow, when my boss and the news gets a hold of this, there will be no turning back. Right now her father only cares about having her back. He is so damn guilty he isn’t making waves. As a matter of fact he wants all of this to just go away, her back and all this forgotten."
“And you don’t find that strange? Look I already told you, I don’t know anything. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to leave. I have a lot to do this afternoon. Goodbye Susan.”I walk over to the door and gesture for her to leave.
Giving my arm a reassuring squeeze Susan declares, “You really have a friend here Angela. I thought you knew that.”
I close the door behind her and run into my bedroom closet where I find Alyson curled up on the floor sound asleep. I read in a book once that when children experience fear to great for them to handle they go to sleep. I scooped her up in my arms and laid her on my bed, surrounding her with stuffed animals and billowy pillows. I lay a pallet on the floor next to her. I wanted to stay close in case she woke up in the middle of the night. I knew I had to take her somewhere tomorrow. I couldn’t keep stowing her away in my closet every time someone knocked on the door.
Alyson? It was dark. What time is it? I wondered. I groped the covers of the bed hoping to feel her body snuggled underneath but I couldn’t feel her. I had to get her out of my apartment tonight. I didn’t know why, but something was urging me to leave. I got up, turned on the light, only to find an empty bed. My heart sank, where could she have gone?
“Alyson, honey where are you?” I whispered.
I opened the closet and there she was curled up just as I had found her earlier. Bless her heart, she must feel safe there. I wondered how many nights she slept in her own closet instead of in her own bed in hopes of finding solace.I gently close the door leaving her there while I pack a bag for me and gather her few belongings. At least I had the presence of mind to make a cash withdrawal before I did this, this gosh how stupid. What was I thinking? Mom. I’ll take her to mom. If I drive all night I can get her there and get back ready for work as if none of this ever happened.
The rain softly tapped on the window, streaming down the slick surface, beads of water gathering and separating almost like they were dancing on the glass. Alyson’s forehead pressed against the glass, her fingers tracing the water beads; barely 3 ft tall, she stands looking down 15 stories to the street below. Barely visible she strains to see the people scurrying around below.
Her captor or rather her savior gently places her hand on her shoulders, guiding her away from the window.
I too strain my eyes looking down 15 stories, hoping she is no longer standing on the sidewalk below.
“Would you like something to eat?” I softly ask Alyson.
She’s so small, so frail. I look at her small frame and think to myself how tiny she is for being six. Her long strands of hair are matted together, the shimmer long gone from years of neglect. The dirty smudges on her face are resemblances of the smudges that I know are on her soul and heart. So frail; yet so strong. I am always amazed at what the human spirit can survive. Her dark eyes are lifeless. I don’t think I will ever get used to looking into eyes whose light has been extinguished by the cruelty of man.
A knock on the door makes both of us jump. I scurry her off to the back bedroom and remind her that she needs to be very quiet. I apologize to her one more time as I slip her into the closet and close the door behind me. My heart hurts that she is left alone in the dark one more time but it can’t be helped. If they find her here she will undoubtedly be taken back to her home and I carted off to jail. This is not my brightest moment by far. I must have lost my mind just long enough to turn my world upside down.
“Who is it?” I ask.
My heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest. I’m shaking, inhale, exhale, come on breathe Angela. God please, steady me Lord.
“Angela it’s me again.”
“Susan? I thought we were done.”
“Open up Angela, this isn’t CPS Susan, this is friend Susan. You’ve got to hear me out.”
“Yea, of course, come in. Please have a seat.”
“No need to be so formal. What are doing Angela?”
“What do mean?”“You will lose your job and you will go to jail.”
“That’s assuming I’ve done something worthy of losing my job and going to jail. I’ve already told you, I know nothing about Alyson. I am worried sick about her, but part of me can’t help but wonder if she isn’t better off lost somewhere than in her own home.”
“Now you see, you do know something, because the Angela I know wouldn’t be okay with her lost somewhere. Angela damn it, let me help you. It’s not too late to fix it, I can fix this still, but tomorrow, when my boss and the news gets a hold of this, there will be no turning back. Right now her father only cares about having her back. He is so damn guilty he isn’t making waves. As a matter of fact he wants all of this to just go away, her back and all this forgotten."
“And you don’t find that strange? Look I already told you, I don’t know anything. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to leave. I have a lot to do this afternoon. Goodbye Susan.”I walk over to the door and gesture for her to leave.
Giving my arm a reassuring squeeze Susan declares, “You really have a friend here Angela. I thought you knew that.”
I close the door behind her and run into my bedroom closet where I find Alyson curled up on the floor sound asleep. I read in a book once that when children experience fear to great for them to handle they go to sleep. I scooped her up in my arms and laid her on my bed, surrounding her with stuffed animals and billowy pillows. I lay a pallet on the floor next to her. I wanted to stay close in case she woke up in the middle of the night. I knew I had to take her somewhere tomorrow. I couldn’t keep stowing her away in my closet every time someone knocked on the door.
Alyson? It was dark. What time is it? I wondered. I groped the covers of the bed hoping to feel her body snuggled underneath but I couldn’t feel her. I had to get her out of my apartment tonight. I didn’t know why, but something was urging me to leave. I got up, turned on the light, only to find an empty bed. My heart sank, where could she have gone?
“Alyson, honey where are you?” I whispered.
I opened the closet and there she was curled up just as I had found her earlier. Bless her heart, she must feel safe there. I wondered how many nights she slept in her own closet instead of in her own bed in hopes of finding solace.I gently close the door leaving her there while I pack a bag for me and gather her few belongings. At least I had the presence of mind to make a cash withdrawal before I did this, this gosh how stupid. What was I thinking? Mom. I’ll take her to mom. If I drive all night I can get her there and get back ready for work as if none of this ever happened.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Dad I Really Never Knew
Edward Ila Permenter was born, one in a set of twin boys, on a hot July day in 1932. He and his brother John joined elder brother Kenny. Growing up on a farm didn’t leave him much time for family or friends. He rode ponies as a kid, and went off to serve in the air force as a young man of twenty.
He met Jacki Stoneburg in San Antonio, Texas when she visited her sister, serving in the Women’s Air Force Band. She was the opposite of him, her dark tresses and brown eyes contrasting with his blond hair and blue eyes, she was from the north, he from the south. Nevertheless it was total, mesmerized love at a moment’s glance. They dated and then he spent hours on the phone talking to her after she went home. Before he could think, the words “Will you marry me?” slipped out and he was on a plane bound for Seattle.
Married in 1955, he tried to make a go of his sales career, and was hardly home. He and Jacki became new parents and he felt like a juggler , traveling, being a husband, and a new dad. Because of struggling times, he moved his young family to Montana, hoping to find new pastures for his business. One day, coming home from a long, discouraging pharmaceutical sales trip, he met his in-laws and bride of five years at the front door. Jacki was departing, taking their young daughter with her and leaving Ila holding loose pieces to a complicated puzzle.
Wandering between his job, visitations with his daughter, and trying to put his life together again, Ila gave up and went back home to the south. He heard whispers of Jacki marrying again and let her new man adopt his child, hoping to give her a life with a Dad close to home. Then he met Bess, a sweet southern girl, and was wed again, determined not to let his past mistakes haunt him. They were happy, joyfully raising two children of their own, another girl, who often reminded him of his first born, and a son whom he was proud of.
After the death of an adopted father, the eldest child wondered if the rumors she heard were true. Was her birth father an angry man full of rage? Did he truly beat her when she was only two? The words flew around her, swirling into ever morphing accusations,, until no one knew for sure what was truth and what was fantasy. She had to find out. His name and area of the country he lived in were never kept secret from her. She knew he belonged to the south. With a determination, the decision to locate her biological father was made. Looking through old pictures of a bygone wedding, a page appeared, the guest list for the big announcement so many years ago. Finding names that were related to the father, phone numbers were attained through a city phone book. With apprehension and speculation, the digits finally located.
Questions assailed her, making decisions complicated and confusing. Did he remember her? Did he want to hear from her? Was he married? Did he ever tell his present wife about his first marriage and a daughter he only knew by name? Agonizing, heart pounding, she dialed a number and waited.
A voice, young like her own answered, saying he wasn’t home and could she take a message? “No.” the now adult child replied. She bided her time. Dialing again, a second female, the intonations soft and quietly spoken, telling her to wait. A man’s voice, full of wonder at the passage of time. A father and daughter, separated by decades and distance, broken and now united.
Wings of a plane send the daughter flying across the country to faces strange, yet familiar. A sister rejects her, a brother opens his arms and his heart to her, a father, a woman, a family.
More choices made, lives changed forever, shattered dreams unfulfilled. Vows broken and a father who chose to ignore. A daughter who grieved for broken promises and had to choose a different way. A love distant and rejected, a life full of mourning.
October 10, 2008, a father dies, a brother calls. Two people thrown together by blood of long ago. Feeling their way, unsure of a direction, a silent phone call away.
In memory of Edward Ila Permenter 1932 - 2008
He met Jacki Stoneburg in San Antonio, Texas when she visited her sister, serving in the Women’s Air Force Band. She was the opposite of him, her dark tresses and brown eyes contrasting with his blond hair and blue eyes, she was from the north, he from the south. Nevertheless it was total, mesmerized love at a moment’s glance. They dated and then he spent hours on the phone talking to her after she went home. Before he could think, the words “Will you marry me?” slipped out and he was on a plane bound for Seattle.
Married in 1955, he tried to make a go of his sales career, and was hardly home. He and Jacki became new parents and he felt like a juggler , traveling, being a husband, and a new dad. Because of struggling times, he moved his young family to Montana, hoping to find new pastures for his business. One day, coming home from a long, discouraging pharmaceutical sales trip, he met his in-laws and bride of five years at the front door. Jacki was departing, taking their young daughter with her and leaving Ila holding loose pieces to a complicated puzzle.
Wandering between his job, visitations with his daughter, and trying to put his life together again, Ila gave up and went back home to the south. He heard whispers of Jacki marrying again and let her new man adopt his child, hoping to give her a life with a Dad close to home. Then he met Bess, a sweet southern girl, and was wed again, determined not to let his past mistakes haunt him. They were happy, joyfully raising two children of their own, another girl, who often reminded him of his first born, and a son whom he was proud of.
After the death of an adopted father, the eldest child wondered if the rumors she heard were true. Was her birth father an angry man full of rage? Did he truly beat her when she was only two? The words flew around her, swirling into ever morphing accusations,, until no one knew for sure what was truth and what was fantasy. She had to find out. His name and area of the country he lived in were never kept secret from her. She knew he belonged to the south. With a determination, the decision to locate her biological father was made. Looking through old pictures of a bygone wedding, a page appeared, the guest list for the big announcement so many years ago. Finding names that were related to the father, phone numbers were attained through a city phone book. With apprehension and speculation, the digits finally located.
Questions assailed her, making decisions complicated and confusing. Did he remember her? Did he want to hear from her? Was he married? Did he ever tell his present wife about his first marriage and a daughter he only knew by name? Agonizing, heart pounding, she dialed a number and waited.
A voice, young like her own answered, saying he wasn’t home and could she take a message? “No.” the now adult child replied. She bided her time. Dialing again, a second female, the intonations soft and quietly spoken, telling her to wait. A man’s voice, full of wonder at the passage of time. A father and daughter, separated by decades and distance, broken and now united.
Wings of a plane send the daughter flying across the country to faces strange, yet familiar. A sister rejects her, a brother opens his arms and his heart to her, a father, a woman, a family.
More choices made, lives changed forever, shattered dreams unfulfilled. Vows broken and a father who chose to ignore. A daughter who grieved for broken promises and had to choose a different way. A love distant and rejected, a life full of mourning.
October 10, 2008, a father dies, a brother calls. Two people thrown together by blood of long ago. Feeling their way, unsure of a direction, a silent phone call away.
In memory of Edward Ila Permenter 1932 - 2008
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