Roxy stared forlornly at Bugsy, her baby blue VW bug. The wheel turned in from her fender and she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere. The big green truck showed little damage, only the dirt falling off the bumper in a heap on the ground.
“Just what did you think you were doing?” The voice came from above her, as she stood
surveying the damage, not daring to look up into the angry eyes of the man.
“I was trying to change lanes.”
“How could you not see me? I’m twice as big as you are in this thing. Do you have a license? And what about insurance?”
“Of course I have them.” Roxy’s eyes flashed momentarily and she dug her wallet out of her purse. Holding her cards out to him, the man snatched them from her hand. Noticing the name, he quickly looked
up.
“Roxy?”
Startled, Roxy’s brown eyes connected with the deep, ocean blue eyes of Jake, her high school
sweetheart. His blond hair glinted in the sun and her heart flip-flopped with long forgotten secrets.
“Well, I’ll be. I never expected to run into you.” he laughed softly, “Sorry.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you joined the service.”
“I did. I‘m out now, it’s been six years. You won’t forgive me will you?”
“Why should I? You broke my heart prom night. It was supposed to be special to us. ” Bitterly, Roxy turned to drive away, but she couldn’t move her car.
“Can I take you home? I’ll have your car towed.”
“Now you’re mister nice guy? Will you ever stop jerking my heart around? I’ll find my own way home,
thank you.”
“
Roxy, I can’t leave you here with cars whizzing by.”
“Fine, have it your way.” Roxy clamored into the truck.
“Where to? I doubt you still live with your parents.”
“Of course not. I’m an adult now, living by myself, at the Court Apartments.”
Jake stared at her. “What are you doing out there?”
“It’s cheap. It’s my home. You don’t have to like it. Besides, it’s not so bad.”
“Not bad? Shootings every night, robberies, it’s the worst part of town. “
“What does it matter to you? You left, you never sent me so much as a note. I had to do something. Are you taking me home or not?”
“I’ll take you home.”
The red brick building stood, its cracks filled with ivy in crazy patterns up its side, and loose shutters banged against the wall in the breeze. “What happened?” Jake turned to her, touching her shoulder. “Look at me, Roxy. Come have lunch so we can talk. I really would like to know about your life over the past few years. We can go to the café’ on main street. Please?’
“Okay.”
Parking in front of the Main Street Café’, Jake guided Roxy in the front door. She took a deep breath, smelling the old familiar scent of wood, food, and worn leather. She spied their old seat, and was pleased when Jake requested the booth.
“I don’t get over this way often. Too busy at the factory, I guess.” Roxy said.
“Is that where you work? What happened to the big exec job you wanted?” Jake studied her for a moment. “It seems like not much has gone right for you.”
“No. After you left, I wandered around for a while, not knowing what to do. Then I found my job, but it doesn’t pay much.”
The waitress took their order, and Jake turned back to Roxy. “I thought you would have found some gorgeous guy, gotten married, and lived the fairy tale life we dreamed of.”
“That‘s the point, Jake, it was our fairy tale, not someone else‘s with me. My handsome prince left and I couldn’t find another one.” Roxy looked down, swiping at a tear trickling down her cheek.
Jake reached over and clasped her hand in his. ”I really hurt you, didn’t I? I never meant to. I’m really sorry, Roxy. I didn’t want you waiting until I got back.” He brushed his fingers across her arm. “I wanted you to feel free to see other guys and have a life of your own.”
The woman brought their food and they ate for a few minutes. Finally, Roxy looked at Jake. “You could have asked, not just tell me you were leaving in the morning. You could have given me a choice to wait, not
decide for me.”
“I know that now. “ Jake looked into the face he would always love. “I should have done a lot of things differently.”
“Is this what’s it come to? A life full of regrets?”
Jake pushed his plate away. “If that’s what you want.”
Roxy stood. “I’m not hungry.” Turning, she ran out the door.
Jake hastily placed money on the table and hurried after her. “Roxy!“ He sprinted to catch up with her. Spinning Roxy around, he drew her to himself. Roxy’s fists pounded on his chest, the sobs breaking and spilling over into a cascade of torrents. Jake‘s arms tightened around her, his hand gently stroking her brown curls.
“Roxy, please let’s work this out. Neither one of us can take this roller coaster ride. Come on. “
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He drove to their old hangout at Riverside Park. Holding tightly to Roxy‘s hand, Jake followed the beaten path to an old bench. “Remember when we carved our initials here? “ He rubbed the soft wood. “We pledged our lives to each other.” Jake turned her toward him. “I know I made a big mistake. I came back because I wanted to say I’m sorry. I want another chance. “
Roxy buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m scared Jake.”
“I know you are sweetheart. So am I. But let’s start over. Please marry me, Roxy.”
She swallowed, quiet sobs shaking her. Nothing mattered anymore, her true love had come home. “Yes, Jake, oh, yes.”
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Beyond the Front Line
(This is also posted on my personal blog http://n0my.blogspot.com)
by G.M. Underling
a tribute to a friend
Events transpire in every mature adult's life that we reflect on as being defining. The day you asked the woman you love to grow old with you. The day John Kennedy was murdered. The assaults on September 11, 2001. These events can change the path of your life forever, and some even change the future attitudes of a people.
Last night, November 4, 2008 was a night that many Americans will remember. Barack Hussein Obama became the first person of color to earn the office of President of the United States of America. Millions gathered in Chicago to witness one of the most monumental, moving and motivating addresses in American history.
As much of an impression as that made, it doesn't sit on top my list of defining moments. Before I left the office this evening, I was told a story. The words you read are on this paper because an energy from inside is compelling me to respond in some way.
September of 1969 was a year of high importance for me. Seventh grade was, like many other new teenagers, my first major bounce on the springboard to independence. Not quite ready to dive into the world, I felt prepared to move in that direction. No longer would I sit in the same classroom all day. Several teachers, elective subjects, extra-curriculars, girls, maybe even an after school job were in my future.
Other things were happening in the world at that time, however. Though I lived in a small town in rural Minnesota, which like the rest of the country was surrounded by news reports, headlines and personal tragedy, I was engrossed in my own life, virtually unaware and unaffected by these goings on.
Much has been written about the Second Indochina War in Vietnam. Battle stories have never impacted me in a personal way. I was lucky. I didn't have a father that served in the military. No father at home at all, actually. No brothers, cousins or uncles were drafted, either.
Tonight I heard the story of a man, we'll call him Frank. A seemingly common man, but one who in many ways has lived through things many men or women could not or would not endure – and I was truly awestruck.
Frank told of the events leading up to his arrival in Asaka, Japan in 1969. Because he may write his memoirs someday, and to respect and preserve his anonymity, I'm going to omit many of the details. The details I've chosen to leave out are inconsequential to the point of this writing, however. Suffice it to say this man found himself serving in an army hospital.
More frequently than anyone would be comfortable with, UH-1 “Hueys” and other aircraft would deliver injured soldiers from the battle front. Some walked in under their own volition, some were carried in on stretchers, some in wheelchairs, and some in body bags. Those that arrived, often left with their life forever changed by the injuries or trauma that brought them there.
A picture of a small building, brought detectable tearing to Frank's eyes, as did the image of a dining hall, and the memories the telling of his experiences conjured up.
He described a room he ventured into shortly after his arrival, and was confused by a huge mound of uniforms stacked up. I could sense the emotion as he told of the epiphany when he internalized that those were the uniforms of those that had been brought in for care. Although he didn't say, I got the feeling that many of those uniforms were never either worn, or suitable to be worn again.
Frank talked about going to the dining hall for his meals, and seeing and sometimes sharing meals with soldiers having everything from bandaged arms to missing limbs, eating their meals somewhere ... anywhere away from the depressing quarters they were forced to spend most of the rest of their time in.
I saw some pictures showing men who were missing a section of their head. There was a snapshot from behind of one who had a deep cavity in the flesh about a foot wide in spots. One man lay on a table with his leg gone and the doctors had not stepped through the triage process to that level of injury yet. And Frank told of escorting a new quadriplegic home to the states, after which he would be privileged to spend a few precious days with his family for the holiday.
My own eyes began to glaze over with a thin layer of moisture, though, when I heard him speak the following words. “So I never saw active duty...” and I missed most of the rest of what he said after that, because I was overcome with disbelief.
Words seem to be hiding from me now. How can anyone, especially this improbable rock I'm listening to, live through those times and circumstances, and say they never saw active duty? Maybe he meant active combat, I don't know. But I would venture to say he went through, and helped countless others through situations, scenes and circumstances that many of those on the battle lines would have been unable to withstand.
At times during Frank's telling of his story, he would apologize for choking up a little, or for being so overcome by memories that he was unable to finish a sentence without a moment to compose himself. It was disheartening to think that a soldier felt coerced to hide the lasting emotional impact that his service to his country holds.
Therefore, on this day, a little less than a week before Veteran's day 2008, I stand at attention the best I know how, and with the thumb side of a clenched right fist, I pound my chest over my heart as a Civilian Salute to Frank and others like him who served in vital but often unsung ways to protect our freedom, and to care for those who were injured on the battle front, in a place many may call beyond the front line. Further, I encourage you to do the same in your own way.
I'll close with small words speaking absolute truth. Your service is appreciated beyond measure, and will be remembered forever.Thank you, my friend, thank you.
by G.M. Underling
a tribute to a friend
Events transpire in every mature adult's life that we reflect on as being defining. The day you asked the woman you love to grow old with you. The day John Kennedy was murdered. The assaults on September 11, 2001. These events can change the path of your life forever, and some even change the future attitudes of a people.
Last night, November 4, 2008 was a night that many Americans will remember. Barack Hussein Obama became the first person of color to earn the office of President of the United States of America. Millions gathered in Chicago to witness one of the most monumental, moving and motivating addresses in American history.
As much of an impression as that made, it doesn't sit on top my list of defining moments. Before I left the office this evening, I was told a story. The words you read are on this paper because an energy from inside is compelling me to respond in some way.
September of 1969 was a year of high importance for me. Seventh grade was, like many other new teenagers, my first major bounce on the springboard to independence. Not quite ready to dive into the world, I felt prepared to move in that direction. No longer would I sit in the same classroom all day. Several teachers, elective subjects, extra-curriculars, girls, maybe even an after school job were in my future.
Other things were happening in the world at that time, however. Though I lived in a small town in rural Minnesota, which like the rest of the country was surrounded by news reports, headlines and personal tragedy, I was engrossed in my own life, virtually unaware and unaffected by these goings on.
Much has been written about the Second Indochina War in Vietnam. Battle stories have never impacted me in a personal way. I was lucky. I didn't have a father that served in the military. No father at home at all, actually. No brothers, cousins or uncles were drafted, either.
Tonight I heard the story of a man, we'll call him Frank. A seemingly common man, but one who in many ways has lived through things many men or women could not or would not endure – and I was truly awestruck.
Frank told of the events leading up to his arrival in Asaka, Japan in 1969. Because he may write his memoirs someday, and to respect and preserve his anonymity, I'm going to omit many of the details. The details I've chosen to leave out are inconsequential to the point of this writing, however. Suffice it to say this man found himself serving in an army hospital.
More frequently than anyone would be comfortable with, UH-1 “Hueys” and other aircraft would deliver injured soldiers from the battle front. Some walked in under their own volition, some were carried in on stretchers, some in wheelchairs, and some in body bags. Those that arrived, often left with their life forever changed by the injuries or trauma that brought them there.
A picture of a small building, brought detectable tearing to Frank's eyes, as did the image of a dining hall, and the memories the telling of his experiences conjured up.
He described a room he ventured into shortly after his arrival, and was confused by a huge mound of uniforms stacked up. I could sense the emotion as he told of the epiphany when he internalized that those were the uniforms of those that had been brought in for care. Although he didn't say, I got the feeling that many of those uniforms were never either worn, or suitable to be worn again.
Frank talked about going to the dining hall for his meals, and seeing and sometimes sharing meals with soldiers having everything from bandaged arms to missing limbs, eating their meals somewhere ... anywhere away from the depressing quarters they were forced to spend most of the rest of their time in.
I saw some pictures showing men who were missing a section of their head. There was a snapshot from behind of one who had a deep cavity in the flesh about a foot wide in spots. One man lay on a table with his leg gone and the doctors had not stepped through the triage process to that level of injury yet. And Frank told of escorting a new quadriplegic home to the states, after which he would be privileged to spend a few precious days with his family for the holiday.
My own eyes began to glaze over with a thin layer of moisture, though, when I heard him speak the following words. “So I never saw active duty...” and I missed most of the rest of what he said after that, because I was overcome with disbelief.
Words seem to be hiding from me now. How can anyone, especially this improbable rock I'm listening to, live through those times and circumstances, and say they never saw active duty? Maybe he meant active combat, I don't know. But I would venture to say he went through, and helped countless others through situations, scenes and circumstances that many of those on the battle lines would have been unable to withstand.
At times during Frank's telling of his story, he would apologize for choking up a little, or for being so overcome by memories that he was unable to finish a sentence without a moment to compose himself. It was disheartening to think that a soldier felt coerced to hide the lasting emotional impact that his service to his country holds.
Therefore, on this day, a little less than a week before Veteran's day 2008, I stand at attention the best I know how, and with the thumb side of a clenched right fist, I pound my chest over my heart as a Civilian Salute to Frank and others like him who served in vital but often unsung ways to protect our freedom, and to care for those who were injured on the battle front, in a place many may call beyond the front line. Further, I encourage you to do the same in your own way.
I'll close with small words speaking absolute truth. Your service is appreciated beyond measure, and will be remembered forever.Thank you, my friend, thank you.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Fender Bender
Hi I wrote this and would like some feedback. Thanks, Charlene
Fender Bender
Roxy stared forlornly at Bugsy, her baby blue VW bug. The wheel turned in from her fender and she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere. The big green tank of a truck showed little damage, only the dirt falling off the bumper in a heap on the ground.
“Just what did you think you were doing?” The voice came from somewhere above her, as she stood surveying the damage, not daring to look up into the angry eyes of the man.
“I was trying to change lanes.”
“How could you not see me? I’m twice as big as you are in this thing! Do you have a license? And what about insurance?”
“Of course I have them.” Roxy’s eyes flashed momentarily and she stomped off to get her wallet. She held her cards out to him.
Fuming, he snatched them out of her hand.
“Roxy?”
Startled, Roxy’s brown eyes connected with the deep ocean blue eyes of Jake, her high school sweetheart. His blond hair glinted in the sun and her heart flip-flopped with long forgotten secrets.
“Well I’ll be. I never expected to run into you.” he laughed softly, “Sorry.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you joined the service.”
“I did. I‘m out now, it’s been six years. You won’t forgive me will you?”
“Why should I? You broke my heart graduation night. It was supposed to be our special night.” Bitterly, Roxy turned to drive away, but she couldn’t go anywhere.
“Can I take you home? I’ll call a tow truck.”
“Now you’re mister nice guy? Will you ever stop jerking my heart around? I’ll find my own way home, thank you.”
“Roxy, I can’t leave you here with cars whizzing by.”
Fine, have it your way.” Roxy clamored in the truck.
“Where to? I doubt you still live with your parents.”
“Of course not. I’m an adult now, living by myself, at the Court Apartments.”
Jake stared at Roxy. “What are you doing out there?”
“It’s cheap. It’s my home and you don’t have to like it. Besides, it’s not so bad.”
“Not bad? Shootings every night, robberies, it’s the worst part of town. “
“What does it matter to you? You left, you never sent me so much as a note. I had to do something. Are you taking me home or not?”
“I’ll take you home.”
The red brick building stood, its cracks allowing ivy to grow in crazy patterns on its side, and loose shutters banged against the wall in the breeze. “What happened, Roxy?’
Jake turned to her, taking her hand. “Look at me, Roxy. Come have lunch so we can talk. I really would like to know about your life over the past few years. We can go to the café’ on main street. Please?’
“Okay.”
Parking in front of the Main Street Café’ Jake guided Roxy in the front door. She took a deep breath, smelling the old familiar scent of wood, food, and worn leather. She spied their old seat, and was pleased when Jake requested the booth.
“I don’t get over this way often. Too busy at the factory, I guess.” Roxy said.
“Is that where you work? I thought you would have some big exec job by now.” Jake studied Roxy for a moment. “It seems like not much has gone right for you.”
“It hasn’t. After you left, I wandered around for a while, not knowing what to do. I found my job at the factory, but it doesn’t pay much.”
The waitress took their order, and Jake turned back to Roxy. “I thought you would have found some gorgeous guy, gotten married, and live the fairy tale life we dreamed of.”
“That‘s the point Jake, it was our fairy tale, not someone else‘s with me. My handsome prince left and I couldn’t find another one.” Roxy looked down, feeling the sting of tears.
Jake reached over and took her hand, his expression compassionate. “I’m really sorry Roxy. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t want you having to wait until I got back.” He brushed his fingers across her arm. “I wanted you to feel free to see other guys and have a life of your own.”
The woman brought their food and the two ate for a few minutes. Finally, Roxy looked at Jake. “You could have asked, not just tell me you were leaving on our big night. You could have given me a choice to wait, not decide for me.”
“I know that now. “ Jake looked into the face he would always love. “I should have done a lot of things.”
“Is this what’s it come to? A life full of regrets?”
Jake pushed his plate away. “If that’s what you want.”
Roxy stood. “I’m not hungry.” Turning, she ran out the door.
Jake hastily placed money on the table and hurried after her. “Roxy! Wait.” He ran to catch up with her. Spinning her around he drew her to him. Roxy’s fists pounded on his chest, the sobs breaking and spilling over into a cascade of torrents. Jake pulled Roxy into his arms, stroking her brown curls.
“Roxy, please let’s work this out. Neither one of us can take this roller coaster ride. Come with me. “
Jake took her to the park by the river. Leading Roxy along the path, he found their initials carved in the soft wood of the bench from long ago. “Remember when we did this? We pledged our lives to each other. I know I made a big mistake. I came back to find you because I wanted to say I’m sorry and I want a second chance.”
Roxy leaned against him, staring out at the river. “I’m scared Jake.”
“I know you are. So am I. But, let’s move forward, not back. Marry me, Roxy.”
Roxy swallowed hard, her heart melting. Nothing mattered anymore, her true love was back. “Yes, Jake, oh yes!”
Fender Bender
Roxy stared forlornly at Bugsy, her baby blue VW bug. The wheel turned in from her fender and she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere. The big green tank of a truck showed little damage, only the dirt falling off the bumper in a heap on the ground.
“Just what did you think you were doing?” The voice came from somewhere above her, as she stood surveying the damage, not daring to look up into the angry eyes of the man.
“I was trying to change lanes.”
“How could you not see me? I’m twice as big as you are in this thing! Do you have a license? And what about insurance?”
“Of course I have them.” Roxy’s eyes flashed momentarily and she stomped off to get her wallet. She held her cards out to him.
Fuming, he snatched them out of her hand.
“Roxy?”
Startled, Roxy’s brown eyes connected with the deep ocean blue eyes of Jake, her high school sweetheart. His blond hair glinted in the sun and her heart flip-flopped with long forgotten secrets.
“Well I’ll be. I never expected to run into you.” he laughed softly, “Sorry.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you joined the service.”
“I did. I‘m out now, it’s been six years. You won’t forgive me will you?”
“Why should I? You broke my heart graduation night. It was supposed to be our special night.” Bitterly, Roxy turned to drive away, but she couldn’t go anywhere.
“Can I take you home? I’ll call a tow truck.”
“Now you’re mister nice guy? Will you ever stop jerking my heart around? I’ll find my own way home, thank you.”
“Roxy, I can’t leave you here with cars whizzing by.”
Fine, have it your way.” Roxy clamored in the truck.
“Where to? I doubt you still live with your parents.”
“Of course not. I’m an adult now, living by myself, at the Court Apartments.”
Jake stared at Roxy. “What are you doing out there?”
“It’s cheap. It’s my home and you don’t have to like it. Besides, it’s not so bad.”
“Not bad? Shootings every night, robberies, it’s the worst part of town. “
“What does it matter to you? You left, you never sent me so much as a note. I had to do something. Are you taking me home or not?”
“I’ll take you home.”
The red brick building stood, its cracks allowing ivy to grow in crazy patterns on its side, and loose shutters banged against the wall in the breeze. “What happened, Roxy?’
Jake turned to her, taking her hand. “Look at me, Roxy. Come have lunch so we can talk. I really would like to know about your life over the past few years. We can go to the café’ on main street. Please?’
“Okay.”
Parking in front of the Main Street Café’ Jake guided Roxy in the front door. She took a deep breath, smelling the old familiar scent of wood, food, and worn leather. She spied their old seat, and was pleased when Jake requested the booth.
“I don’t get over this way often. Too busy at the factory, I guess.” Roxy said.
“Is that where you work? I thought you would have some big exec job by now.” Jake studied Roxy for a moment. “It seems like not much has gone right for you.”
“It hasn’t. After you left, I wandered around for a while, not knowing what to do. I found my job at the factory, but it doesn’t pay much.”
The waitress took their order, and Jake turned back to Roxy. “I thought you would have found some gorgeous guy, gotten married, and live the fairy tale life we dreamed of.”
“That‘s the point Jake, it was our fairy tale, not someone else‘s with me. My handsome prince left and I couldn’t find another one.” Roxy looked down, feeling the sting of tears.
Jake reached over and took her hand, his expression compassionate. “I’m really sorry Roxy. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t want you having to wait until I got back.” He brushed his fingers across her arm. “I wanted you to feel free to see other guys and have a life of your own.”
The woman brought their food and the two ate for a few minutes. Finally, Roxy looked at Jake. “You could have asked, not just tell me you were leaving on our big night. You could have given me a choice to wait, not decide for me.”
“I know that now. “ Jake looked into the face he would always love. “I should have done a lot of things.”
“Is this what’s it come to? A life full of regrets?”
Jake pushed his plate away. “If that’s what you want.”
Roxy stood. “I’m not hungry.” Turning, she ran out the door.
Jake hastily placed money on the table and hurried after her. “Roxy! Wait.” He ran to catch up with her. Spinning her around he drew her to him. Roxy’s fists pounded on his chest, the sobs breaking and spilling over into a cascade of torrents. Jake pulled Roxy into his arms, stroking her brown curls.
“Roxy, please let’s work this out. Neither one of us can take this roller coaster ride. Come with me. “
Jake took her to the park by the river. Leading Roxy along the path, he found their initials carved in the soft wood of the bench from long ago. “Remember when we did this? We pledged our lives to each other. I know I made a big mistake. I came back to find you because I wanted to say I’m sorry and I want a second chance.”
Roxy leaned against him, staring out at the river. “I’m scared Jake.”
“I know you are. So am I. But, let’s move forward, not back. Marry me, Roxy.”
Roxy swallowed hard, her heart melting. Nothing mattered anymore, her true love was back. “Yes, Jake, oh yes!”
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