Friday, December 9, 2011
Tick Tock
Time out. Time flies. Time stands still.
Time to get up. Time to go to bed.
In the nick of time. Time heals all wounds.
Time after time. Time and again.
Time on your hands. Times they are a-changing.
We've all been given a certain allotment of this precious stuff. Some get more than others. No one knows how much time he's been given, whether it will be a lot or just a little.
Some use their time better than others. Some, like me, fritter away their time by sitting on the couch, making an irreparable indention with their butt, while vacantly absorbing inane drivel from the boob tube. Others, make the world a better place because of their wise use of time.
When the last grain of sand reaches the bottom of our personal hourglass, we'll be taken back to our God, who gave us life. It doesn't matter if you're famous, poor, handsome, or sad. Eventually, your time on this earth will end.
The life you build by your use of time, whether wise or otherwise, will be your yardstick in the life to come. What did you do with the gift God gave you?
I'm sure the officer who was killed yesterday at Virginia Tech thought he had a lot more time. Years, in fact. I mean, he was only 39. I'd wager that when he got up yesterday morning at his home in Christiansburg it never even entered his head that that very morning his hourglass would run dry.
You know what? It hardly ever does.
It comes like a thief in the night. You hardly ever suspect it.
This good and brave man left behind a wife and five children. Awful. Insidious. Horrible. Appalling. Shocking. Pick whatever adjective you like. I don't think you can overstate the tragedy of this situation.
I wonder if he left the house with a kiss for his wife and a heartfelt "I love you." I wonder if he squeezed each of his kids and let them feel how deeply in his heart they resided. I wonder today if they know how much daddy loved them.
It wouldn't surprise me if he did all of that and more.
But did you?
Time is running out.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
I've Got Your Christmas Parade Right Here
After a good workout on the treadmill, a nice cool shower and a quick bite to eat, we left for Fredricksburg, Charlie (our dog) in tow, for the Jaycees’ 2011 Fredericksburg Christmas Parade. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures from that, but you can watch highlights here. I watched that video and did not see her company in it. She danced her way all along that parade route, too, which was probably about another mile.
I sure am proud of her and her big brother.
They both went through the whole two days with relatively little grouchiness. Jacob didn't have the distance to walk she did, but he was nevertheless a very good trooper when it came to supporting his sister. He stayed up late Friday night, so we let him sleep through the first one. But he was there for every other second, most of the time with a smile on, whether it was pasted there or not.Needless to say, both of them slept well that night.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Frozen Gizzards
As it turns out, though, we didn’t start when everyone else did. In fact, we gave them all at least a one minute head start. Not only did I have a time tag tied onto my left shoe, but I also had one of those key pocket things tied to the other one.
in case you don’t know what that is, I’ve included a picture here. Mine didn’t happen to be this brand, but it was very similar.And what a piece of junk! Without exaggeration, we hadn’t run more than 25 yards when I looked down and saw it flapping in the wind. Quickly I reached down and felt inside, but there was no key. Jacob and I stopped dead in our tracks thinking that we were going to have to search far and wide just to find the darned thing. We were about 40 minutes from home, Kelly was working in Fairfax and Hannah needed to be picked up directly after the race was over. We were in big time trouble.
But again, the tender mercies of the Lord are great. We walked back toward the starting line and within 30 seconds we saw it lying on the ground. Jacob said it best when he said, “It’s a good thing you saw that when you did, Dad. We could have seen that when we were halfway through the race and then what would we have done?” He was absolutely right. The Lord was very, very good to us. I am very grateful.
Jacob volunteered to carry the key and the pouch the rest of the way. If you look carefully at the picture of him you can see them both in his hands. That’s him at the finish line.
Notice that I’m nowhere to be seen. That’s because he left me (with my approval) and finished 9:06 seconds ahead. The course was tough and really tired me out, but honestly, it was an honor and privilege to run this with my son. I was so proud of him. The course made a very large loop, coming back onto itself at about the 2 mile mark. When I was at the halfway point I saw him running down the hill at that two mile marker. A very large smile crossed my face and it lifted me the rest of the way. Don’t get me wrong. I was TIRED, but knowing that Jacob was in such good health and that he could run me into the ground made me as proud as could be.
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Good, The Bad and the Scary
Yesterday, without rumor or warning, my Director, my boss and another good friend were laid off. Usually we hear rumblings about layoffs way in advance. This time there was nothing. Not a hint. Not a word. Not an allegation. They came to work yesterday and shortly thereafter just went home.
The good side of this is that it's really a notification of being laid off. The actually termination doesn't happen for another 30 days. Meanwhile you're still an employee and you get paid as usual. So, there is time to find something else.
The job market in this area is also relatively good, compared to the rest of the country. All three of them are talented and bright and will most likely fall directly on their feet. I have no doubt of that.
The bad part is that I feel so bad for all of them. What a rotten hand to be dealt...ever! My boss was always so easy to work for. He always had my back and went to bat for me on countless occasions. I will miss all three of them immensely.
The scary part is, it could have been anyone. Why I was spared, I can't tell you. It's certainly not because I'm more talented than they are, because I'm not. It wasn't because Heavenly Father loves me more than them, because He doesn't. I just don't know why it happened the way it did.
All I can tell you is that I'm thankful. Very, very thankful.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Sending Up Shoots - Conclusion
During their courtship she was at first uneasy when she learned he kept a handgun in the house. It was a small .38 special that he kept in the small table at the start of the hallway, but he assured her that it had never been used. "It's just for protection," he said, gently. "It's New York, after all." She grew accustomed to it being there and soon forgot about it.
She was a little uneasy about his prior marriage, too, and asked him a time or two about it. Again, he tried to reassure her in his easy way, but she could still sense a bit of sadness about him that she attributed to that experience. Though he was happier than he'd ever been in his life, Elizabeth could tell he was still tormented by the memory. "She used to be part of my heart," he said, "now she's just a line on my face."
Only one time did she ask what had happened, but he wasn't in a hurry to volunteer information. He only replied that they'd grown apart and decided to go their separate ways. After that, Elizabeth preferred not to pay attention to the man behind that curtain.
Elizabeth, on her part, didn't volunteer much information about her past, either. She kept in touch with her parents, but all of the old friends were just gossamer ghosts from the past. She'd actually gone in and talked to her boss before leaving the islands, but she'd never given going back a second thought.
Her parents came to the wedding, of course. It was held at St. Michael's Church on West 99th Street. Neither John nor Elizabeth was a member of that congregation, but she'd loved the building so much since she moved to the city that they bribed the pastor there with promises of volunteer work and donations, to let them take their nuptials in his sanctuary.
Directly after throwing the bouquet and brushing rice out of their hair, John and Elizabeth jetted off to Key West, planning their lives together while snorkeling, deep sea fishing and swimming in the pristine waters. They were as deliriously in love as a couple could get.
Upon returning, they moved into her apartment, both spending pensive days staring out the window at the Empire State Building. Elizabeth often wondered how she had been so lucky to meet and marry such a wonderful man.
"Sweetheart, will you come help me?" she called to him, sinking her hands deeper into the steaming dishwater and picking up one of their dinner plates. It had been three months since their wedding and she was still happier than a woman had a right to be. He was everything she could have wanted; attentive, romantic, handsome and gentle.
John laid down the book he was reading and walked to her side. While they washed and dried, it had become his way to intentionally bump her with his hip from time to time, making an oinking sound that always made her laugh. It was a chore he cherished, being able to stand next to the one who'd saved him from his dark abyss.
They talked and laughed about their time in Florida, how they'd met and how she'd fallen for him the very first time she saw him in the Park. He accused her gregariously of spying on him. She grabbed his hands and plunged them deep into the soapy water with hers, the two of them splashing each other and giggling.
Drying each others hands when the job was finished, they stood gazing into each others eyes. The profundity of the love scared them both a little bit, but each loved it more than either could explain. There were just no words suffient and the word "love" seemed inadequate. They stood beside the sink, her back against the cool wetness of the stainless steel, embracing like it was the first time in their lives.
A rough knock on the door snapped them both out of their self-imposed reality.
"I'll get it," John said, giving her a peck on the cheek, walking through the library and into the living room while Elizabeth took herself to cleaning up the rest of the kitchen.
John reached for the lock and twisted it.
He turned the knob and opened the door.
In the open expanse stood Tony.
A confused smile came on Tony's face as John took a tremendous gasp and rushed into the hallway. Pulling the door quietly and quickly behind him, he whispered forcefully, "What are you doing here, Tony? I paid you this month! I don't owe you anything right now!"
Tony smiled broadly, showing the green decay that covered his teeth. "Relaxth, Johnny-caketh," he said. "I'm not here to thee you."
John tilted his head like a curious puppy. "What do you mean, you're not here to see me?" he asked.
Elizabeth hung the dishtowel on the rack next to the sink and made her way into the living room. Noticing the front door slightly ajar, she walked over and reached for the knob.
Her blood ran chill.
She stood, trembling, with her ear next to the door, barely breathing.
"Ha!" she heard him laugh. "You mean, she didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?" asked John, becoming angrier as the seconds inched by.
Elizabeth reached for the knob.
And pulled.
John looked quickly over his shoulder at Elizabeth, and drew in a quick, desperate gasp of air.
Tony looked at Elizabeth, too.
And smiled menacingly.
"You!" exclaimed Elizabeth, looking straight into Tony's horrible face.
Tony opened his mouth wide and laughed, his whole body convulsing.
"Well, well, well, Johnny-caketh," he said between guffaws. "You and Lithy thitting in a tree! Ba ha ha ha!!"
The laughter poured out of him like water through a sieve as John straightened himself out, turned and looked at his new bride. "How do you know Tony?" he asked.
Elizabeth paid no attention to the query and looked intently at Tony instead. "What are you doing here, Jax?" she asked, disgustedly. "Why can't you guys leave me alone?"
Tony shook his head. "It'th not you guyth anymore, Lithy," he said. It'th jutht me now. He got pinched a couple of weekth after you dithapeared. He'th thitting in the thtate pen in Honolulu for ten to fifteen."
"I'm glad to hear it," Elizabeth said disgustedly. "He deserves more than that."
John looked at her inquisitively. "Who are you talking about, Elizabeth?" he asked. "And why are you calling him Jax? His name's not Jax. It's Tony."
"Not when I knew him it wasn't," she said, staring at Tony with fire in her eyes. "What do you want? I'm done working with you."
Tony stood next to John, his eyes wide open with surprise, chortling. "Wait a minute," he cried. "You mean you two haven't talked about your patht with each other? Ba ha ha ha ha!" He continued for what seemed like hours, guffawing with tears flowing down his cheeks. "Thith ith jutht tho preciouth!!"
John felt the ire rise in him like high tide at Coney Island. Then he saw the spark in Elizabeth's eyes, too. A tiny smile curled her lips and evil glowed from her eyes. John knew exactly what she was planning the second he saw it.
Looking back at the cackling Tony, John smiled broadly and said, "We were about to sit down to dinner, Tony," he lied, an infernal sneer forming itself like a crown on his lips. "Would you like something as well?"
"Yes! Please!" exclaimed Elizabeth wickedly. "Please come in and have something."
Tony wiped the tears from his eyes and took his first step, almost routinely, into the ample studio apartment. "Nithe plathe you got here," he said. "I'm thurprithed you can afford it!"
"Oh, we can't," John said, as he shut the door behind them.
"No, we really can't," added Elizabeth, as she walked briskly toward the small table at the start of the hallway.
The End
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"Secrets are like plants. They can stay buried deep in the earth for a long time, but eventually they'll send up shoots and give themselves away. They have to. It's their nature. Just a tiny green stem at first. Which slowly, insidiously grows taller, stronger, unfolding itself, until there it is. A big fat secret, right in front of your face; a fully bloomed flower perfumed with the scent of deception." — Judy Reene Singer
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Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Sending up Shoots - Part VIII
Like an unwelcome neighbor, the memories of the last six months were a constant visitor to her conscience. She could still smell his aftershave, could still feel the way he caressed her hand, and the sick, weak feeling she had when she answered his question. She would regret saying that one word for the rest of her life.
When they arrived at the gate, Jax was already there, looking at his watch and pacing. He saw them when they were still halfway down the terminal. Grabbing his small bag and running toward them, he shouted, "Where have you been?"
Smiling, he grabbed Jax's hand and squeezed.
"How've you been, you old so and so?" he said.
Jax pulled his hand away and pointed at the clock across the terminal. "We got here a half hour ago," he exclaimed. "They think I'm talking in fifteen! What took you?"
"Nice to see you, too, Jaxxy!" he said, pulling Elizabeth closer. "I'd like you to meet someone very special to me, Jax. This is Elizabeth."
Elizabeth extended her hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Jax."
Jax shook her hand, but kept his eyes on him. "I've got to get over to the college, and I mean right now! Come on, we gotta get my bag!"
"What do you mean?" he asked. "I thought it was all starting tomorrow."
Jax shook his head. "No, no, no. I have to talk in fifteen! If I'm not there, we could come up short on a pantload of money from our client!!"
Jax wrung his hands and walked as fast as he could toward Customs and the baggage claim area. "I'm never going to make it! I'm going to get fired!"
"Jax, calm down!" he exclaimed, trying to keep up. "Customs won't take that long. Your clients will understand if you're just a couple of minutes late."
Jax stopped and stared at him directly in the eyes, lightly grabbing his collar in his right hand. "No, they won't!" he demanded. "You don't know them! If I'm not there, they'll go to another company! I'll be fired!"
"Wait, Jax," he said. "Elizabeth is a Custom's agent." Turning toward her he asked, "Isn't there something you can do, some way to get him through more quickly?"
Elizabeth loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone. She would have walked across fire. But all of her training screamed in her head. "No!" it exclaimed. "There's nothing you can do!"
She felt the anxiety deep in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to help Jax, desperately, but she'd been trained for just this sort of experience. Feeling her hands start to shake and her knees buckle, she heard herself say the word she never thought she'd utter in this situation.
"Sure."
A couple of weeks later he asked her to return to the airport again, and then another time three days later. Both times Jax had large bags that needed to skirt around the hovering Customs agents. Both times she helped, flashing her badge at the appropriate time. She trusted him, loved him, she wanted to be with him forever.
Until she found out what she'd been doing.
Sighing heavily and rolling back over onto her cooler side, Elizabeth remembered the distinct ring of her phone, now wishing she'd never answered the call. Late on a Thursday afternoon, six months before, he'd called her again and asked her to return to the airport with him. Elizabeth knew what she'd done was illegal, so she balked at the invitation. That's when he confronted her with the truth.
"What you don't realize, sweet Elizabeth, is that you've now helped us three times," he said. "Three times you've helped get illegal drugs into the United States. Three times you've become an accessory to a crime. Three times you've betrayed your training, your country and your agent friends. If you don't help us again, you WILL be turned in to the authorities with an anonymous phone call."
She shook her head and closed her eyes as she recalled how she'd packed her bags, bid farewell to her mom and dad, gone to the airport and bought a ticket for New York City...one way. Hopefully, he'd never be able to find her in such a big town.
Elizabeth raised her hand to her face and consciously swept away those distant memories, choosing instead to concentrate on the new ones she'd made since moving into her Brownstone on the upper West side. She'd found a good job, made a few new friends, and even met a handsome man in the Park who made it almost impossible to sleep.
The first time she saw him he was sitting on a small knoll just off one of the myriad jogging trails near the Lasker Ice Rink. She'd only been in town for a couple of weeks and was still too shy to talk to much of anyone, so she kept on her way.
Several days later she saw him again, this time making his way north toward Central Park West at Columbus Circle. He was going her way, so she followed him, about a block behind, until he turned down West 75th Street. She hurried to the corner so as not to lose him, but when she looked down the street all she saw was the requisite 60 cars parked along both sides and a large pile of gravel and dirt surrounded by traffic cones. He was gone.
She finally met him two weeks later, on a cool Autumn day when the wind was blowing and the leaves were starting to turn. Standing on the corner just outside her Brownstone, she lifted her hand to hail a cab.
After five minutes of unsuccessful attempts, a yellow taxi stopped in front of her. Stepping toward the cab she gripped the door's handle and pulled. Sticking her head inside she looked up and he was there. Sitting next to her.
"I..I..I'm sorry," she said nervously, quickly. "I didn't know this was your cab."
She was starting to back out when he reached out and touched her hand.
"Please," he said. "Share it with me."
Elizabeth breathed deeply, feeling her heart quiver like it had done only one other time. "Thank you," she replied. "That's very thoughtful of you."
She could barely contain her excitement. Her hands trembled as she gripped the handle and closed the door.
"My name is Elizabeth," she said, again feeling no more than twelve years old.
"Nice to meet you, Elizabeth," he replied. He stuck out his hand and shook hers firmly, smiling intently.
"My name is John."
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Coming soon - The Conclusion
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sending up Shoots - Part VII
It had been three months since she'd left. Once she realized that money was disappearing from their account, no amount of pleading could dissuade her from leaving. John didn't blame her in the least. In her position, he may have left, too. He couldn't tell her the truth. That would only have pushed her out the door more quickly. But two weeks of his cryptic explanations didn't help either. She was gone and he'd received the papers in the mail just yesterday.
It commenced the morning after his epiphany concerning Tony. It was a Saturday, early, and she'd just gotten up to make some fresh orange juice and toast. It was their favorite and they shared it almost every weekend.
John was still lying in the bed when he heard her say his name softly.
"John?"
"Yes, sweetie?" he replied, turning the pillow over beneath his head, unaware of the bomb that was soon to hit his world.
"I think someone's getting into our bank account."
His heart beat wildly and his hand shook as he turned over in bed and tried to feign unconcern.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice shaking only slightly.
There was a short pause, silence, while she looked harder at the computer screen. John began to breathe more heavily. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.
He heard her walking into the bedroom, her pink, fluffy slippers slapping lightly on the hardwood floor. His mind raced out of control. He turned his back to her so he could pretend to be asleep. But the question came anyway.
"John, what have you been buying? All of these withdrawals have your name on them."
There it was. Waterloo. The demon he'd been waiting for all these years. Finally his horrible secret had sent up the diabolic shoots that would utterly destroy his marriage. He'd been required to pay an inexorable price for his deception.
Today, Tony would reimburse him.
John rubbed his chin with his other hand as the 4:01 train whistled by on its way to West 96th Street. The subway stations always smelled like the inside of someone's toilet. "How fitting to be meeting Tony in such a cesspool," he thought.
As the breeze from the train subsided, the familiar guttural voice echoed in John's ears.
"Nithe to thee you on time, Johnny-cakth," it said.
Turning only slightly so as to hide the fact that he was packing, John looked at the source of the voice over his shoulder and shivered. Tony was dressed in his usual dirty black jeans and flannel shirt, but this time a beat-up, old overcoat hid most of his imposing frame. The slime-green eyes shown wickedly in the florescent light.
"You got the money?" he asked, smiling broadly, showing cavity-ridden teeth he obviously never brushed.
John closed his eyes. Squeezing the gun butt even more firmly, he started to pull it from his pocket. He extended his finger and placed it gently on the trigger.
Opening his eyes he looked around the station. There was no one in sight. They were alone. It could be done now and no one would know.
"Don't make me athk again, Johnny," Tony said. "You got the money?"
John could feel his hand shake as the adrenaline coursed freely through is veins.
"Kill him!"
The sound echoed in his brain and seared his conscience like a branding iron.
"Kill him!!"
It shouted even louder.
"KILL HIM!!!"
John looked at Tony and knew he'd never be free of him. He would continue to demand money every month until one of them was dead.
But John also knew that he was not a killer. Releasing his grip on the pistol he reached in his coat pocket and retrieved the wad of bills.
Looking at it forlornly in his still shaking palm, John handed it over to Tony.
"That'th a good boy, Johnny" said the villain. "I heard she left you. Mutht be tough being alone, eh Johnny-boy?"
The sound of those words plucked John's last nerve and almost forced his hand back into his pocket.
"Don't bring her into this!" he demanded, gripping the handle and pulling it halfway out. "Don't you ever bring her into this!"
Tony smiled and shoved the money deep inside his overcoat. "Nice day officer!" he said.
John reflexively jammed the pistol back into his pocket, as deep as it would go. He turned his head toward the tracks and waved at one of New York's finest who was walking his beat. "Afternoon, officer," he said, waving nervously with his free hand.
"You're lucky this time, Tony!" he said softly, only to find that Tony was already ten feet away.
"You thay thomething, Johnny?" Tony asked, turning to face the visibly shaken John.
John shook his head. "No," he said limply, looking at the disgusting floor.
"I didn't think tho," Tony replied, as he turned and went up the stairs.
Coming soon - Part VIII