Tuesday, August 29, 2017

PURSUIT: A Novel – 22: Pen


Kansas University – Friday Night, March 10, 1989
Crickets chirped and the deep throat call of the bull frog were the only sounds that drifted across the glassine surface that reflected the detailed cratered features of the man-in-the-moon seemingly looking at himself as he floated in the lake. A bottle of wine sat uncorked between them as they gazed across the aqua mirror. She sipped the cool and buttery oak-aged wine.
“Hey, you want to hear something really cool?” Christina suggested like a breeze of fresh air filled with the fragrance of newly blossomed spring flowers.
“Go for it,” Eva said and then polished off the rest of her glass. “This Chardonnay is absolutely delicious.” She reached for the bottle and poured. “Ah, the last of it, Chrissy. She looked at Christina’s glass. “Ya still workin’ on your first pour?”
“I think all of this stuff is related.”
“What stuff? You’ve been quiet since we got here. Not that I minded. Nice to hear nature. You talked until the moon set two nights ago.”
“Yeah. It was a purge, wasn’t it? But it opened my heart to feel again.” She stared off into the distance, lost in her thoughts and immersed in peace since her lunch date with Jerry. “I did get a bit emotional.”
“We both did. Telling your story cleaned out the closet of your past. So what is so cool, you can’t wait to tell me?”
Christina looked at her, the moonlight reflecting sparkles of topaz from her eyes.
“Uh oh. You’ve got the look that I’ve never seen from you,” Eva moved her head in closer to peer deeply. “I see a man and it’s not the man-in-the-moon, but if this isn’t the wine that’s talking, I’d say you’re in love.”  
 “How did you know?”
“For gosh sakes Christina, what did you talk about that brought me to tears? Men, men, men. They’re all related.” She sat up, spurred by the spark of dizzy love that only a woman could discern in Christina’s demeanor. “I’ve been mulling on your story the past few days. Your imaginary father . . . your need as a child to have a male role model in your life. The betrayal that closed your heart . . . to never trust a guy again. Your encounter with Father God . . . your first real love . . . resurrected your buried pain and He took that from you. Your response was a joy . . . you danced with joy! And with that delight, expressed in your dance with God, your heart began to heal . . . and continued to heal one dance at a time . . . so that now, you are able to give love and receive love from a man.”
“Wow, Eva, you got all that? It’s taken me years to connect the dots.” Christina chuckled.
“Yeah, sister, your story spoke right to my situation. I see now I’ve got my own healing to go through with my father. It’s no wonder now, why all of my guy relationships have been a cycle of dead ends. Now, tell me about Prince Charming.”
“He’s different from any guy I’ve ever met. He’s open and sincere. He expresses feelings from his heart. What guy does that? Men are afraid to share their feelings. He told me about his life changing experience just this afternoon. I felt love radiating from his eyes, crystal blue eyes that reflect light. He has God’s hand on his life. Wow, in a mighty way . . . saved from a lightning bolt.”
“What?”
“Yeah. He was struck down by a lightning bolt.”
“And he doesn’t have brain damage?”
“Confused, maybe, and wondering why he survived.”
“Yeah. Wow. That would put me in an emotional coma.”
“I can so relate to him, Eva. Three years ago, I was where he is today. He’s confused about his purpose and destiny in life. His goals when he started college don’t make sense to him any longer.”
 “Is he graduating this semester?”
“Yes, and that truly troubles him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jerry.”
“Hmmm . . . Don’t know a Jerry.”
“Not likely to meet him on campus. He’s a business major.”
“A man with a vision to make it rich,” Eva added.
“Yeah, I can see that he likes to have control over his future, to draw out a map and know where he’s headed. I can relate to his struggle, the confusion about one’s future. I felt the same after my dance with God. Funny how God uses confusion for His good purpose.”
“What do you mean?”
“I chose nursing because it provided my mom with financial independence and security. After realizing that dad wasn’t coming home, I felt I needed to do the same, make my own future. But after my dance with God, my heart began to change. I started to feel that Father God was my security in all things, that my dependence on Him gave me strength. Eventually, I realized that I didn’t need to focus my life purpose on myself.”
“But you continued your nursing degree.”
“That’s right. The summer after my dance with God I worked at Peaceful Valley. I learned so much there, and I don’t mean cleaning bedpans or passing meds. I learned from those in their twilight years that have seen so much in life, the tough times, valuable lessons to pass on. It was my last week of the summer working there that I felt God confirm in my heart what I was feeling while caring for those dependent on me.”
“How’s that? What were you feeling?”
“There’s a Bible verse that’s become a favorite of mine, ‘We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps.’ I felt the desire in my heart change from wanting to depend on no one, to depend on not just someone, but Father God. When this happened, my heart filled with passion for helping and caring for those loving folks who cared as much for me as I did them. During my last week there, three different people said to me . . . Hehe . . . I remember Ruby . . . oh, sweet Ruby saying, ‘Now sweetie,’ Christina said in a voice and gestures mimicking Ruby, ‘If there’s one thing you do with your life it should be to follow your passion. And before you do that, let God fill you with his passion.’ ” She looked into Eva’s eyes to drive the point. “Ruby is an artist and still paints at 102 years old.”
“Wow, Christina, to be able to use your gift at 100. Do you think you’ll still be dancing with God at 100?” Eva chuckled.
“It’s in God’s hands. Remember, God determines my steps.”
“Yeah, okay. Got it.”
“It was Mr. Carter that touched my heart with his words. It was my last day, and we had a routine of taking a walk after lunch before he took his afternoon nap. He was a short, small man, and he would walk by my side holding my arm to give him balance with his cane. He refused to use a walker, said it made him feel old. Hehe. It’s all relative, Eva, how we feel and what we feel.” She smiled at the memory.
“You’re inspiring me, Christina. If I keep on dancing, I’ll stay young at heart.”
“You got it, girl. Hehe. Mr. Carter said . . . ” She paused for a moment to change her persona to his, “ ‘Follow your heart, Chrissy, follow your heart, but make sure God’s in it when you do.’ ” Christina became silent, drawn into her emotions.
“What’s wrong, Chrissy?”
“Ahhh . . . Mr. Carter passed the following night. He died in his sleep. I was probably the last person he got to share that pearl of wisdom with.” She wiped the single tear from her eye. “You see, Eva, it’s all about letting go and letting God show you His plan, one step at a time . . . and that first step is one of obedience. For me, it was letting go and dancing with God that Easter Sunday. For Jerry . . . ” She paused and reflected on meeting him, the bookshelf-lined walls of the coffee shop a backdrop to their first conversation. “It’s letting go of control and writing the words that God gives him.” She looked over her shoulder at Eva lying next to her, arms behind her head staring at the moon.
“See what I see, Chrissy?” Eva nodded at the bright orb that ruled the night.
Christina lay back to repose. After a long pause she said, “Well, I don’t see a cow jumping.” They both laughed.
“I see decadent chocolate cake smothered in creamy, vanilla ice cream.”
“Back to Old Towne?”
“Race ya . . . ”
v v v

“Yum, yum.” Christina polished off the last of her bowl. They sat at a round table in the near vacant coffee shop, feet propped on a chair.
“Nothing like something chocolate to soothe the soul.”
“Eva, I’ve been thinking—”                                               
“No way! Do you ever stop?”
“It’s like the dam broke, flushing out that stuff from the past. Like a string of pearls buried in the sand, they become beautiful bits of wisdom as you pull them out, no longer to be ashamed of. It’s what makes me, me.”
“Every pearl’s a star above, wrapped in dreams, and filled with love,” Eva replied in a singsongy voice.
Christina rose from her chair, her gaze set on a shelf of books, not the antique looking ones, but those that looked new, some ornately designed, and walked towards them. She pulled one from the shelf, a green, leather-bound book with a clasp lock and key. Holding it before her, she closed her eyes as her lips silently moved. She pressed the journal to her chest, smiled and nodded in agreement. She looked further down the book-lined wall to an antique showcase filled with exquisite pens, one catching her eye—brilliant blue, with silver lines that made it glimmer in the showcase lights. She slid the glass door open and picked up with reverence the weapon of mass creation. Clicking the ejector, the gold fountain pen tip gleamed with her selection.
She smiled as she thought of Jerry as a scribe for God.
v v v

Reference:

“Every pearl’s a star above, wrapped in dreams, and filled with love.” from “A String of Pearls” as written by Jerry Gray Eddie De Lange. Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
v v v


Copyright 2017  © Jeff Cambridge

Excerpt from PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge, a writer of transformational fiction with characters that tell life-changing stories.
This is a pre-published scene.
To read the scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”

Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Simply check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at bycambridge@gmail.com.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Monday, August 28, 2017

PURSUIT: A Novel – 21: Keyed


Flintrock High School – Friday Afternoon, March 10, 1989
The buzzer sounded and signaled the end of the school day. Flintrock students streamed out of the exits to the parking lot filled with buses. Bobby with no books or backpack twirled his keys as he walked alone down the hallway. His eyes followed the floor apparently deep in thought. He exited the side entrance to the parking lot with cars that seniors with a job or a parent’s endowment drove to school.
“Hey . . . ”
He looked over his shoulder and found Jessie leaned back against the wall; one foot rested against it hidden by her long, blue skirt; the other sandaled foot showed off the only part of her exposed leg. Her white blouse was unbuttoned to her midriff, its seam seductively laid open to reveal the lace that barely covered the supple mounds of flesh. He smiled with surprise. Was it astonishment to see her or what she nonchalantly revealed?
“Didn’t expect you’d still be here,” Bobby said.
“Life’s a game of finding out how far you can stretch the rules.” And what Mammie don’t know can’t hurt me.
“You pull off the Pentecostal look— ”
“It’s what you can’t see that you want isn’t it?” She reached for his hand and drew him in, his face so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. Her eyes focused on his, but she knew what lay over his shoulder deeper in the parking lot—the powder-puff blue coupe with three girls standing next to it.
“Kiss me,” she purred.
His eyes glanced to the closed door, then back to her eyes.
“Here?”
“Now.”
As soon as his lips touched hers, she slid in her tongue, drawing a deep kiss. She drifted her arms around his waist and drew him in with her sandaled foot. His arms supported her as he pressed in.
“Mmmm. Bobby’s got a big one. Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?”
“I’m available. She pinged my head with my ring.”
“Well, then . . . ” She lowered her feet to stand and grabbed her backpack that rested against the wall. “Let’s seal the deal.” She took his hand to lead him to the parking lot. Perplexed from the sudden end to their passion, Bobby saw beyond Jessie the twin blondes with Lauren standing between his metallic blue Camaro and her powder puff blue coupe. Lauren sauntered towards him, her hand swiping the side of his car. When she reached the taillight, she held up her keys with a penetrating, defiant look.
“Hey!” He dropped Jessie’s hand and ran ahead. The girls laughed as they slid into Lauren’s car and waved their arms as powder-puff blue streaked the lot.
v v v


Copyright 2017  © Jeff Cambridge

Excerpt from PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge, a writer of transformational fiction with characters that tell life-changing stories.
This is a pre-published scene.
To read the scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”

Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Simply check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at bycambridge@gmail.com.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.