Monday, December 26, 2016

The Blind Beggar: Part II

In time, Amal and her family came to know Ali was a homeless orphan.  Amal was once caught by her mother bringing food to him.  She was severely punished and threatened to never do it again.  Once her mother saw Boulos (Only Amal called him Ali.) and his thin frame, her heart softened and she made an effort to give any food the family could spare to the boy.  No one told father.  The whole family knew he would never allow or accept his hard earned wages being used to feed an orphan.

Ali sat on the ground looking toward the setting sun when Amal came to him with some food.  He loved this spot with its unobstructed view of the Mediterranean sunset.  Ali heard her approach and turned to see who it was.  Amal called out, “I’ve brought you some food, my Ali."

“Thank you my Amal.  Please give my thanks to your family.” 

When Amal reached her friend, she touched him on the shoulder and his hand came up.  She then touched his hand with the plate and he clasped it and set it in his lap.  Amal said, “Sahteen, my Ali.” 

Ali began eating as he looked at the western sky.  The two sat in silence.  Both loved sunsets and Amal sometimes forgot Ali’s visual limitations.  Ali broke the silence saying, “Can you describe the sunset for me?”

“Can you not see it?”

“I see the sun plainly and I see some colours but I have lost details.  Can you describe the details to me, my dear Amal?”

Amal thought for a moment.  How do I describe such beauty?  How can anyone encapsulate such a vision?  Can the Creator Himself look through my eyes and see it?  If so, can even He describe it so another can understand?

She started slowly, haltingly.  “The sun is nearing the sea and colors of pink and fuchsia are reflected in the clouds above.  The colours are vivid and striking with hints of a purplish gray in between the bright colours.”

“What type of clouds are they?”

“I never learned the names of clouds.  Have you?”

“No, are they big and fluffy or wispy?  What do they look like?”

“Oh!”  She paused a moment considering how to describe the clouds.  “Have you seen a ball of cotton before?”

“Yes.”

“Imagine long rolls of cotton, one next to another.  The pink colors are where the rolls of cotton come together and the darker gray/purple are the balls themselves.  There are a few of these cotton rolls high in the sky.  They are going this way.”

She clasped his right arm with her left hand and then lifted and had it point to the sea.  “If you face this way, the cotton rolls move across the sky this way.”  Amal slid her fingers across his arm in a parallel direction to the clouds.  Then she added, “There is an airplane going across the sky and it is heading this way.”  She traced a finger across his arm in the direction of the plane. 

“It sounds like a beautiful sunset.”

“They always are.”

Sunday, December 25, 2016

The Blind Beggar: Part I

As soon as Amal saw the burn scars on his face, memories flooded her mind and her heart pounded.  It was her childhood love, Ali.  His given name was Boulos but Amal called him Ali.  In a flash, she glimpsed moments of playing, laughter, caring, tenderness and some pain.  She wanted this boy more than life but that was a whole lifetime ago.  Now she was married and a mother of three and Ali was a blind beggar on the streets. 

The next hours were a blur as she worked in the home and put her children in bed.  Amal was the dutiful wife as her husband made love to her.  As always, she would do what was necessary.  That night more than ever, her heart was not in it.  Her only thought was Ali. 
Her mind drifted to carefree days playing in the streets.  Stone walls and buildings were her castle as she played with her siblings and cousins.  Many discarded items that lined the streets and vacant areas were playthings.  Climbing and running mixed with screams of laughter as they moved about.  Then he appeared; a dirty lad about Amal’s age.  Her family was cautious with the stranger but Amal only saw a new playmate. 

Boulos didn’t run as fast as the others due to a slight limp but his mind was quick and he was full of wit.  He laughed quickly and easily and loved playing with Amal and her family.  Soon, he was a regular playmate for the whole clan.  He was Amal’s favorite.  Each night when Amal and her family returned to their small home, Boulos walked away dejected.  Whenever she could, Amal would sneak food to her friend even though her siblings mocked her kindness. 
Then her mind saw the day Boulos received his burns.  He was fascinated with fire.  In the winters when the winds turned cold, he would gather sticks and papers and pieces of old broken furniture to burn.  As the day passed, the children would warm themselves by the fire.  On this particular day, it had rained the previous evening and the air was wet.  Boulos had difficulties starting the fire.  He disappeared but returned nearly an hour later with a container filled with gasoline.  Amal and the other youngsters gathered in a semicircle in the corner of a wall as Boulos began dumping fuel on the wood. 

Then an old man came screaming at Boulos.  He must have taken gas from the man.  The old man hit Ali several times then took the container and left.  Undaunted, Boulos smiled as he returned to the wood pile.  Fumes hung heavy in the corner as Boulos retrieved a match to light.  He struck the match and as he began to reach down to the wood pile, a fireball erupted and engulfed the lad.  It was momentary and the shock quickly subsided. 
Two of Amal’s brothers began to laugh but Amal rushed to Boulos’s side.  He was stumbling about with his hands over his face.  The smell of burnt hair hung heavy in the air.  She pulled at his arms to see the damage to his face but he was too strong.  Finally he relaxed enough for Amal to see.  His eyebrows and eyelashes were gone and his face was red.  Amal led him to a rock a few meters away and had him sit.  He moaned in pain, rocking back and forth with his hands over his face. 

After several minutes, the others returned to their games.  Boulos said, “I think I hurt my eyes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything is blurry.”
“Let me see.”
Boulos wanted to protest but fear moved his hands.  His face was now a deep crimson but his eyes were tightly closed.  “You need to open your eyes.”

Slowly, painfully, Boulos opened his eyes.  Each time he forced them open, they involuntarily closed.  Between blinks, Amal saw bloodshot eyes but nothing in them.  This day was the start of Boulos slowly going blind. 
This infirmity slowed Boulos.  He became more pensive.  He didn’t run around playing with the others.  Instead, he would sit and stare at the sky or his surroundings.  While the children played about them, Amal would sit with Boulos.  It was then Amal first felt love for Boulos and she began to call him Ali. 

She asked Ali why he sometimes seems to stare at things.  “Things are blurry for me.  I look at things for a long time so I will never forget them when I am blind.” 

The thought of her friend going blind made Amal sad.  She promised to always be available to help him see things even if he went completely blind.  It was this promise that caused Amal to wake from her slumber.  Instantly, she wept a deep heartbroken cry that shook her body.  She left her bed and went to the family room and held a pillow over her mouth to muffle her cries.  She wept uncontrollably for 26 minutes.  Finally, she dried her eyes and returned to bed. 

Before slipping back to sleep, Amal wondered if she would ever see Ali again. 

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Joy: Christmas

Christmas was an amazing time to three year old Bobby Lundquist.  Getting presents was awesome.  Singing fun songs and dressing up was okay but he loved all the Christmas decorations.  The lights continually caught his eye.  His favorite part all was this man called Santa Claus.  How amazing that he delivered presents to boys and girls all over the world.  Tonight was Christmas Eve and his parents were going to let him stay up late.  He hoped to see Santa.

Once dinner was finished, his mom and dad let Bobby have a treat. He had rice crispy squares before at his school and he loved them.  He munched the morsel with his right hand as mommy led him by the left hand to his room while Christmas music played in the background.  He was sat on his bed and he continued making the square smaller and smaller.  Mommy was changing his clothes and he barely noticed what she was doing as he focused on the sweet taste in his mouth.  Once it was gone, mommy wiped off his hand and face and then changed his shirt.  This is when he noticed the pants he wore and the shirt about to go on. 

He groaned, “No, why do I have to dress up?”

“It’s Christmas and we want to take pictures of our handsome boy.”

To Bobby, play clothes were fun.  Dress up clothes were not.  “But mom, I wanna play, I don’t wanna be a handsome boy.”


“It’s just for a little while and we’ll let you play in your dress up clothes.”


“Really?”


“Really.”


“But playing in dress up clothes isn’t allowed.”


“You’re right but we will make an exception this time, ok?”


Smiling, Bobby said, “Okay!”   Then he slid down from the bed.  He hopped and then ran to the Christmas tree letting out an unintelligible scream.  Was he trying to be a big scary animal or some machine?  His mother had no clue but her little man made her smile.  She walked to the master bedroom as her husband was exiting, dressed in a suit and tie.  She whistled and said, “You are quite the man, Mr. Lundquist.”


“Why thank you my lady.”


Then he looked into the living room and bellowed, “Where’s that little boy?  I want little boy for dessert!”


Bobby squealed, “You can’t find me, nanny nanny boo boo!”


The two played while mom got herself ready for Christmas pictures.  Bobby would hide until dad found him.  When found, dad scooped up the boy and carried him to the couch where he pretended to eat him up.  Bobby shrieked with delight laughing a full throated belly laugh.  Finally, mom came out and announced, “Ok boys, let’s get started.”


Dad looked at mom in her form fitting red dress and said, “Honey, you look wonderful!”


He got up intending to give her a kiss but Bobby rushed in between them and said, “No, no kissing.”


Dad said, “But we’re married.  We can do that.”


“Not if mommy says, ‘No.’  Say no mommy.”


“No.”


Bobby’s parents began by letting him open a present.  Dad took pictures as he opened it. After his parents opened presents Bobby was allowed to eat more rice crispy squares.  It was about this time dad mentioned something about bed time.  Bobby whined, “But you said I could stay up tonight.”


“Yes but it’s already past your bed time and Santa doesn’t come to houses when boys and girls are awake.  Do you want him to skip us?”


Bobby began to cry.  Mom looked at dad as they both recognized his over-tired cry.  Mom picked up the boy and he kicked and pushed her away but it was too late.  She had him and he knew he couldn’t get away.  The thought of going to bed now made him angry and he screamed.  Mom spoke to him sternly but he would have none of it. 


In a few short minutes, Bobby was in his pajamas and in bed.  Cries still filled his room.  By this time, daddy came in and began speaking softly to him.  He told stories of when he was little and Santa visited him and his brother.  Soon enough, Bobby was fighting to keep his eyes open.  He wanted so much to stay awake.  There was so much life to enjoy.  Finally, he succumbed and slumber sucked him in.   Dad bent down and tenderly kissed his forehead.  “Good night, little man.  Merry Christmas. I love you so much.”

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

A New Story: What About Bob?


“I think you did the right thing just apologizing.  Julie said.  “It was an honest mistake.  You admit your mistake and don’t do it again, right?”

Marsha nodded having told her of the office visit with her manager.  When Julie asked if she was okay, a million thoughts churned through her mind.  So much was wrong.  Bob left her and took all the money, her boss was mad about an error she made and she was wracked with guilt for being a nosy person when she took a card from Julie’s desk. 

In some way, apologizing felt cleansing to Marsha.  A weight was lifted from her spirit.  As she explained the circumstances of her visit to her manager, Marsha felt the urge to confess to Julie she had taken the card.  She had spent her life driven to control her circumstances, her husband, every aspect of her life.  Perhaps she needed to come clean.  Like people who attend Alcoholics Anonymous, she needed to confess and seek forgiveness from those she had wronged. 

This was different.  Julie was still an unknown.  Julie might tell management.  Marsha didn’t know what HR thought of someone stealing from another employee but she was certain she didn’t want to find out.  If her marriage was finished, she needed to work.  Marsha decided to take that secret to the grave. 

There was one apology she needed to make.  To do so, she needed to get Julie out of her office.  Julie was about to say something when Marsha cut her off, “Darlin’, I appreciate your kindness.  I’m a big girl and will be alright.  I just had a moment.  Even big girls get them, ya know.”

“Okay.”  Julie smiled and added.  “Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, I will.” 

She really is a nice girl, Marsha thought to herself.  She wanted to make a phone call but after her recent mistake, it was important to be flawless in her job.  Marsha took pride in her work and any error, however small, irritated her.  She needed to consider what happened and determine the best way to never let it happen again. 

As she worked the remainder of the morning, Marsha’s brain churned through what the next steps should be in her life.  The most important thing was Bob.  He was her husband.  Perhaps he had burned the bridge and there was no going back.  Even though she was deeply hurt by him taking all the money, she knew she made a vow to stay with him “for better or worse.”  This certainly was worse. 

When the lunch hour came, Anita showed up at Marsha’s cubicle.  During their walk to the restaurant, Marsha swallowed her pride and asked if Anita would buy lunch.  As they ate, Anita heard the details of the previous evening.  She was shocked and deeply concerned for her friend.  This comforted Marsha.  As they spoke, Marsha waivered on her decision about her marriage.  With good friends, life as a divorcee was possible.  She could make it but was that the right choice?

Once back in the office, she made her decision.  She grabbed her cell phone and walked outside to a private area.  The line rang once and a voice answered, “Hello?”

“Brian, this is Marsha.  Since he’s not takin’ my calls, I need to talk to you about Bob.”

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

A New Story: What'd I Just Do?

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Bob said.  “This has been building for a long time.  I just couldn’t take it anymore.  Just the thought of being that miserable for the rest of my life.  God, it is just too much to deal with.”

His older brother, Brian, listened as Bob explained the events of the previous hours of his life.  He knew Bob and Marsha had been having problems.  He just didn’t know it had come to this.  He adjusted his cell phone and asked, “So where’d you stay last night?”

“I went to the Country Inn and Suites across town.  It’s nearby work and I’m close to getting a free stay there with points.  It seemed like the win-win I needed at the time.”

“Wow!  I’m sorry little brother.  You told me before you weren’t happy but I guess I didn’t understand how unhappy.  Wow!”

“Yeah, well I got her good though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I took all the money out of our joint account.”  Then he added with a chuckle, “She’s broke.” 

“What do you mean you took all the money?  Why would you do that?”

“Simple.  Spite!”

“Good god, you stupid idiot!  That’s not how mom and dad raised us.  What’s the matter with you?”

“Don’t you get all judgmental on me.  God, I shoulda known this would happen.  You always follow the letter of the law and try to make me feel guilty for everything.”

“Come on, man!  Don’t give me that.  All I’m saying is mom and dad raised us better than that.  You know right from wrong.”

“You’re still trying to guilt me, aren’t you?  You don’t know what I’ve been through with that woman.”

“Okay, fine but you know that being spiteful hurts yourself.  You could lose more than the house.  Do you really think you will keep the money?  You are the one who left.  Have you been cheating?”

“No, but I wish I had.  Jeez, I shoulda clued you in earlier.  You’re standing there all high and mighty but have no clue of the shit I’ve dealt with.  If you had the smallest inkling, you’d have no problem whatsoever.”

“Look man, I don’t care what you’ve been through, you gotta take a higher road than this.  Think about it.  Even if it can all be justified, you will not come out of divorce court without major dents in your lifestyle.  I can see Marsha taking everything but the clothes on your back.  You gotta know that.”

Bob was silent for a moment.  Then scenarios began playing in his head.  “Dammit, Brian,  what’d I just do?” 

Monday, December 19, 2016

A New Story: Are You Okay?

Once the rage cooled, Marsha considered going home rather than to the office.  Then she realized going home would only remind her that Bob was gone.  She wanted, she needed the distraction from her misery if only for a few hours.  After arriving at the office, Marsha was pleased to see an open parking space close to the building.  She mused things must finally be turning around.  She smiled.

After entering her office, turning on her lamp and computer she sat down and mentally ran through items to complete that day.  Pulling her mug from the drawer, Marsha headed to the coffee machine.  Imagine her surprise to see the Keurig was already on and the water warmed up.  Someone must have recently made a cup of coffee.  Also, the whole break room was clean.  She said aloud, “Well it looks like my note made some pigs realize we all work here.” 

Marsha was pleased with herself and the sign she posted a few weeks ago.  For a few moments she forgot about Bob leaving her and taking all the money.  She forgot about the card she took from Julie’s office.  It was going to be a good day.

Two hours later, she received a call from her manager asking her to come to his office.  His voice gave no hint of the reason for the request.  Still, it wasn’t something he normally did.  Nonetheless, she went straight to his office.  Once there, she sat in one of the two chairs across the desk from him.  He started calmly but his anger grew as he spoke. 

He pointed out the error she made the previous evening and berated her for such stupidity.  Marsha’s face reddened as she remembered being rattled by Anita before completing the project.  It was an honest mistake and Marsha politely apologized.  This seemed to disarm him.  Marsha had the distinct feeling he was ready to continue arguing the point.  Once he heard the apology, he was silent for a moment as if lost in thought.  Finally, he said, “Apology accepted.” 

Marsha returned to her cubicle upset.  She heard voices reminding her of shortcomings in her life and how she would not measure up.  She thought of Bob leaving her.  Divorce seemed inevitable now and she would be the first in her family to have this distinction.  The thought brought tears to her eyes and she increased her pace back to her office.  As she collapsed into her chair, Marsha bit her lip to as a last ditch effort the dam up her tears.

Fear kept her from crying again.  Once she started, Marsh felt she wouldn’t stop.  Her emotions were raw and her nerves frayed.  So much had been thrown at her in a short time frame.  Marsha’s heart could handle no more.  She had to put her attention on something other than recent events or her own insecurities.  She looked at her computer and just began to shift focus when there was a knock at the entrance of her cubicle. 

The urge to run and hide was overwhelming but by reflex, Marsha looked into her mirror to see Julie standing at the entrance to her cubicle.  Julie saw Marsha’s eyes reflected in the mirror and instantly recognized the anguish.  Julie asked, “Are you okay?”

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

A New Story: Betrayal

Staring into the mirror, all Marsha saw was bloodshot and puffy eyes.  It was an endless night devoid of sleep but full of tears.  She expected the specter she saw in the mirror but it didn’t make the thought of facing another day any easier. 

She must have called and texted Bob one hundred times.  She first filled his voicemail box.  Then the texts started.  Around 2:00 AM Bob sent a terse reply, “Leave me alone!”  It was at this point Marsha realized badgering the man would accomplish nothing.  She decided to try to sleep but too many spirits haunted her mind and it would not relax. 

In a fleeting moment when she drifted between this world and the land of slumber, she heard the voice of a child wailing.  She rushed down the corridors of her mind to find and soothe the child only to find herself awaiting judgment from a scowling judge.  The jury laughed mockingly at the verdict they sent.  The gavel was about to slam down when she jolted to full consciousness.  She felt so guilty for her failed life.  There was so much for which she must atone.  At the moment, Marsha could only consider the next small steps.  She had to make herself presentable and get to work. 

Marsha went to her desk and turned on her iPad.  She Googled “How to reduce eye puffiness.”  There was a hit from wikiHow and she clicked on the link.  The first recommendation was to put cucumbers on the eyes.  There were no cucumbers in the house.  Scratch that idea.  The next two suggestions required too much prep time.  Therefore, Marsha added ice cubes to two ziplock bags and applied them to her eyes.  She had make-up to minimize the bags under her eyes and would use it before she left the house. 

Breakfast could not be stomached on this morning.  Instead, Marsha popped a K-cup into the Keurig and started a cup of coffee.  She mused that had all of this happened a year ago, she would need to calculate the amount of coffee grounds needed to make one cup of coffee the old coffee maker.  Marsha’s mind briefly drifted to the percolator her parents had.  She could hear the machine working and could picture herself watching the cafĂ© colored liquid entering and leaving the perc view top.  Then the sound of the Keurig finishing her coffee returned her to reality.  The stress and lack of sleep made it feel she drifted in time for a moment. 

Once coffee began entering her system, Marsha felt more at ease.  She applied the finishing touches to her wardrobe and face and viewed her reflection in the mirror.  She looked good and was beginning to feel confident things would turn around.  She believed she and Bob would reconcile.  Perhaps counseling would help.  She was willing to go.  She still loved him and wanted to make it work. 

Driving to work, Marsha remembered the need to stop at the ATM.  There was a car there when she arrived and another followed her into the queue.  Marsha used the time to retrieve her bank card.  It was important to make good use of one’s time.  She was ready the moment she pulled up to the ATM.  She efficiently inserted and removed her card and waited for the prompt to enter her PIN.  Once done, she selected the Fast Cash From Checking option.  The machine whirred for a moment and then the screen gave a prompt that said “Insufficient Funds.”  She murmured, “What the hell!?”

Bewildered by this turn of events, Marsha hopefully tried the Savings account.  It also had insufficient funds.  Now deeply concerned, Marsha pulled forward and into a parking space. 

Pulling the phone from her purse, Marsha gasped, “What’s goin’ on?”  She opened the app for her bank and looked at recent transactions.  Bob and Marsha had a joint account but Bob also had a separate account to which she had no access.  Bob had drained the joint account and put it all into his account.  She had no money. 

A white hot rage burned in Marsha’s brain.  She slammed the palm of her hand into the steering wheel and screamed, “Bob, you bastard, how dare you!  How dare you!  I’ll get you!  I will get you you damn bastard!” 

Break free

A couple quotes hitting me today Our acts can be no wiser than our thoughts. Our thinking can be no wiser than our understanding. George S C...