A Short Tail

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This posting is *NOT* one of the stories that my wife has been writing here under the pseudonym “Italics The Cat”. It is however, both the first and last post I plan on writing here.

This is so incredibly hard for me to write, so please forgive me if it’s more broken rambling than anything else.

My wife Lura went to be with the Lord last Tuesday, Dec 30 2008 at a little after 4:30pm central time.

I still can’t believe it’s true, I keep expecting to wake up from some nightmare induced by trying to sleep in the impossibly uncomfortable accommodations that White River Medical Center in Batesville provides for the family member who is staying with the patient. I suppose they might be passable for most people but I haven’t slept lying down for years because of sleep apnea (and before you mention it, I cannot tolerate CPAP, I’ve tried it.) and back pain, trying to achieve the sleeping position that I need was nearly impossible and always painful, never very restful. I didn’t get a lot of sleep and less rest.

She had fallen in a parking lot a few days before Thanksgiving when her cane slipped out from under her as she walked around the back of the car. She wrote several posts about that and a lot of what happened afterward on her blog “Off The Cuff” ( http://offthecuff.lurasbookcase.com/ ) and more posts on another of her blogs, “Window Shopper” ( http://shopper.purrfectdomains.com/ ) and in her last post on her Christian blog “God’s Topshelf” ( http://godstopshelf.com/ )

Even though she had hardly been scratched and as a hospital trip a few days later confirmed, had not broken anything, it caused her incredible amounts of pain. A couple days after that, along with the expected bruising, blisters started to appear about halfway between her left knee and ankle. The entire area was very painful and sensitive to touch. I had to “tent” the covers over the area so that nothing would touch it.

She ended up being taken care of mostly by me along with the folks from the home health care place who came out to check on her, take pics of the bruise and blisters.

The doctor had decided it was cellulitis and she was treated with antibiotics and strong painkillers. hydrocodone to start with and when that proved not enough, two 15mg MS Contin (morphine sulfate) pills a day. Other than that the only thing to be done was keep the leg elevated because of the risk of her having another blood clot like the one that she’d had last august. She didn’t have one at the time though, they checked for that when they took the xrays looking for breaks.

By the beginning of the 2nd week of December the home health nurse said she thought the blisters looked a lot worse and she took another set of pictures to show the doctor. Once he’d seen them he said that Lura needed to be in the hospital right away to get it looked at and treated.

On the 11th or 12th (It’s kinda blurred to me and I’m not sure of the exact day right now.), we called an ambulance to transport her to the hospital because getting her into the car to drive there would have been entirely too difficult and painful for her. Because the ambulance could not allow me to ride along with her because of something about their insurance and there wouldn’t have been enough room for me and what I had to bring along, my brother drove me to the hospital after they left.

Note: on top of all this, at that same time I had been dealing with crippling migraines and severe jaw pain for a couple of weeks or more and had a very difficult time with nearly everything because of them.

When I got to the hospital she was just arriving at the ER, after a seemingly interminable time for examinations and tests, they admitted her and we moved up to the PCU (progressive care unit).

I think it was the next day they took her to surgery. They had to not just open the blisters but it was necessary to clean out some dead and infected tissue. They applied something called a “Wound VAC” which is basically a vacuum pump that kept the wound (about 2 inches deep and 6 inches across) drained. I can’t tell you how much I hated seeing that hose coming out of the plastic taped to her leg, almost as much as I hated seeing that wound.

They then proceeded to take her back to surgery about every couple of days to check the wound, clean out any more dead tissue they could find and replace the wound VAC. The surgeon was actually pleased with how the procedures went as well as the progress she was making. Each trip to surgery had less junk to remove and they were satisfied that she was beginning to heal.

We both found it frustrating that no matter what, it was expected to be a long process with as much as three or four weeks in the hospital with these surgeries going on before they thought that she might have progressed far enough to go home and back to home health care. It’s also true that because she was diabetic (technically anyway, more borderline than anything) the healing was expected to be slower than for other people. I was told that complete healing and recovery would probably take as long as a year and a half.

By Sunday Dec 28th, I finally needed to go home for at least a day to do some laundry, clean up, get some real sleep and tend to a few household things. I had nearly become a walking zombie due to lack of sleep and a list of aches and pains to long to mention. Despite this very real need, I hated the idea of leaving her there by herself even for a single day because there were things that I was trying to help with that the nursing staff, good hearted though they were for the most part, were just too busy to be as quick to do certain things as she needed.

By the time I got home it was obvious that I was more than just sore and tired, I had come down with a rather nasty intestinal flu complete with a 100 degree + fever, chills and what I call “Explosive Diarrhea”. Needless to say, my one day stop at home got extended by several days.

I kept in touch by phone and she was continuing to do better. By Tuesday I felt better enough that I expected to return to the hospital Wednesday. I spoke to her on the phone that morning. She was tired but otherwise feeling good. She was scheduled for another surgery late that afternoon / evening.

A few minutes after 4pm I got a phone call from the charge nurse. Lura had been out of bed to use the bedside commode. They were helping her back to bed when she complained of being dizzy and collapsed. She told me that they had intubated her and were moving her to ICU.

I made two phone calls to inform family and put in a prayer request for her. When I hung up the phone from the second call, the phone immediately rang. (this was roughly half an hour after the first call) I saw the caller ID was the hospital and expected it to be the charge nurse again with an update. My blood ran cold when I found out it was a doctor, they never call patient’s relatives themselves, they have their office staff do it. I knew this couldn’t possibly be good news.

He told me that she had she had coded for 30 minutes and they were not able to revive her. He said how sorry he was to have to tell me this and the rest of what he said faded into a blur as I hung up to make the same two calls I had earlier to tell them this impossible news.

The next day when I went to the hospital to pick up her things I spoke to the charge nurse that had called me. She told me (sounding like she had been present for most of it) that Lura had regained consciousness for a minute or two after she fell and was awake and talking. Her heart was going slower and slower until she finally lost consciousness again and they started CPR.

I haven’t seen or heard anything official about the cause but the rest of the family and I have what I think is a reasonable theory. While in the hospital she had to be taken off of the blood thinner she was on because of the central line they had put in, the repeated surgeries and the wound itself. Combine that with the fact that she’d already had a blood clot in her leg last summer and was at high risk for developing them and it is very probable that a new blood clot had formed and very likely had broken loose when she fell.

I know that she did not suffer other than the pain and embarrassment of falling, especially in that situation. She hated falling and it was something that she frequently was worried about, especially since she had the DVT last August.

I’ll be posting this story on a few email lists and forums that she participated in and on her MySpace and Facebook pages. I will also post it on all of her blogs after which I do not expect to ever post on any of them again with one exception.

She has an enormous amount of Bible study notes that she has written over the years, a lot of which she had intended to use to write either Articles for her Christian ministry page “Lura’s Bookcase” or her Christian blog “God’s Topshelf”. Because I know she wanted this stuff posted I intend to keep those notes and as I go over them, post them on God’s Topshelf.

I’ll be doing it partly as a memorial to her but mostly out of respect for the fact that she wanted to reach the unbelievers as well as help believers, especially new Christians, learn and grown in The Lord and His will. She knew that we are living in the last days and fully expected the days of tribulation foretold in Revelation and the soon return of Jesus the Anointed One.

She also would not want me to sit and waste away in mourning and grief. Rather, she would prefer that I continue her (and my own) work in the Lord and reach as many as possible while there is still time.

Another reason for doing this is that over recent years my own efforts in this regard have fallen victim to many, many distractions, problems and even laziness that seem to flow like raging river through the need to get so many things done. Therefore I think that it’s reasonable to make an effort to at least set aside a few hours a week to be dedicated to getting back to doing the work that God has set for me to do.

I sincerely hope, pray and believe that her writings will touch the lives of many, bring the unbeliever to accept Jesus and bring Christians to a greater knowledge of Him and His Love and will.

I would also ask that when you speak of me and this situation, that you not say things like, “he lost his wife”. I have not lost her at all. I know exactly where she is and that I will see her again. Her pain is ended forever, mine will fade with time (a lot of it I think) and life will (*MUST*) go on.

As long as this is, there is much still left unsaid, however I have spent nearly the entire day writing this and my heart and mind are nearly spent for the day. It has been, without doubt, the hardest thing I have ever had to write yet it had to be written. She would have done no less.

in Him,

Edward Langenback

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Maggie stopped abruptly in front of the gigantic poster depicting a young man strumming his guitar, relaxing with what appeared to be friends surrounding him. Something about that face attracted her, drew her almost magically. She could not think of one reason why she should even contemplate going to see this young stranger crooning his ballads. Maggie’s music tastes truly ranged eclectic but this was different. Nothing she could put her finger on, just some unseen force strangely moving her to listen to this minstrel.

Searching each portion of the poster, Maggie desperately sought to find one thing on it, one single moment in time, anything at all when she could have crossed paths with the young man. While she chased memories through her mind, her cell phone emitted “Angel of the Morning”, an old 60s song she added as a ring tone for her longtime friend, Crystal, having identified with that song many years ago.

“Crystal, have you ever heard of a young guitarist named Tony Bardella?” she whispered breathlessly.

“Well, hello to you too. What kind of greeting is that?” The silence was weighing heavily in the air. “Okay, so what is this all about, Maggie? I just called to see if you wanted to do something wild and crazy tonight.” Silence. “Maggie? You there? Did my cell just drop you again? Oh, this phone is getting worthless. I need a new one!!” she wailed through the phone.

“No, I’m here”, Maggie whispered, almost too low to be heard.

“What is up with you, girl? Now, I know you aren’t doing something silly or weird like standing in front of some picture of that guy, whatever his name is. So, what is going on?…..Maggie?”

Maggie sighed. “I actually am standing in front of a picture of the guy, Crys. Something strange is happening to me. I cannot explain it. All I know is that guy’s face calls to me. I know that sounds nuts. Just don’t send me off to the nuthatch before I know what’s happening to me.”

“Maggie, we’ve been friends, sisters really, for over thirty years. I know that when you’re going through things, you aren’t nuts. Now what’s all this about?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be so panicked. My heart is racing, I’m starting to perspire. Not only do I have to see the guy but I am compelled to hear his songs. Please don’t ask me how I know this. I DON’T KNOW!!!! she screamed hysterically, almost losing it right there on the street corner.

“Maggie, calm down. Where are you? Tell me! I can come and get you. We will work this out.” Getting more and more worried for her friend, Crystal continued to try and persuade Maggie to hand her any information, trying desperately to find out where she was located. Something really strange was going on, she could feel it now.

“Crys, I don’t know if this is good or horrible but I HAVE to find the singer, I have to. You wanted to do something wild and crazy. Let’s go to……..uh, the poster has no address. Oh Crys! I don’t know where he is! What do I do? I can’t manage this. What will I do?” she cried out.

“MAGGIE! I said calm down. Tell me where you are. I can come to you and we can figure it out together. PLEASE tell me where you are!”

She surveyed her surroundings, searching for a clue, some idea of where she was located. One sign on a building in particular caught her eye. “Joshua’s Place” blinked off and on in the early afternoon sun. “Crys, I’m at the corner of 3rd street and Fort. And I know where to find Tony Bardella now. Can you get here quickly? We must see this guy right now!”

Twenty minutes later, Crystal and Maggie carefully, silently stepped into the dark room of the establishment, unsure of their surroundings.

“What is this place, Maggie?” whispered Crystal. Maggie ignored her question, so intent on finding the artist and his songs. They continued on until they found a young lady who was serving drinks to a table close to a stage.

“Could you please tell us where we are and what happens here?” Maggie inquired.

“Welcome to Joshua’s Place! We are glad you’re here. My name is Lindy and I will be your server today. This place is here for lost souls. People come in here to get away from all their worries and cares. We have some great entertainment for you. Tony Bardella will be your Troubadour in a few moments. What can I get you today?”

“Crys, did you want something?” Maggie turned to Lindy before Crystal could answer. “We don’t drink alcohol at all.”

Lindy looked at both ladies. She could see the tiredness in both of the people standing before her despite the seeming darkness of the room. “That’s fantastic since we don’t serve alcohol here. We have the usual soft drinks plus tea, coffee or whatever you desire. We are here to make your wishes come true.”

Maggie looked at her closely, examining Lindy’s eyes for any sign of this being some type of joke. Strange. She seems to be serious, thought Maggie.

“Yes, I am.” Lindy called as she walked away without having taken their orders.

Crystal picked out a table close by and sat with a sigh. “What kind of place is this and what have you gotten us into this time, Maggie?”

“I have no idea but I intend to find out before we sit here much longer!” She surged to her feet just as Lindy came back with their drink order, the one she didn’t take earlier.

Placing both drinks on the table in front of the person each was designed for, she started to walk away but hesitated. “Just so you know, we are glad you’re here. It’s refreshing to know that the sign worked for you.” With that, she went on about her job of cleaning off the empty table next to them.

“How do you know that? Who are you? Where am I really? What is going on here?” Maggie shot off questions as fast as she could think of them not actually giving Lindy time to answer. She stood calmly waiting for Maggie to slow down.

“This is a place of relaxation and a place to find yourself when life gets to be too much. It works.” Lindy turned back to wiping the table.

As Maggie looked into the darkness, it occurred to her that she could not see anyone else clearly though she knew other patrons sat at tables just like hers. Finally, noticing that she was still standing, she pulled out her chair and sat.

“Crys, what is it about this place that draws me to it? I don’t understand. Are we caught up in something weird? I feel like walking in the door took us into the Twilight Zone. I know people don’t know about that show but we watched it every week.”

Crystal searched Maggie’s face to see the worry and wonder there in her expression. “I don’t know, Maggie. I’ve never seen this place before. I drive by here all the time. It must have just opened or something. But I can’t tell. It’s so dark in here.”

“Have you noticed that although there are others here, we can’t see them? When we came in, all I could see was Lindy, not even the people at the table she was serving. I hope they aren’t doing something illegal.” Maggie sighed and sat back exhausted from all the worries in her life. This was just the last straw, it seemed.

Off in the distance, some music began playing very softly. Out of the darkness, Maggie heard clapping begin and then accelerate. Maggie and Crystal, not knowing what to expect, clapped with the audience. A young man walked slowly on stage, guitar in hand, and climbed onto a stool that was center stage. Two spotlights centered on him as he began to strum a timeless tune very lightly. As he began to sing, Maggie squirmed in her seat. Crystal could not figure out what was wrong with her friend. She had never seen her act this way before.

“Maggie” Crystal hissed, “What is the matter with you? Why are you acting this way? This guy is good. Listen to him!”

Acting as if she had not heard Crystal, which she had not, Maggie continued to react to the medley of songs he was singing. Visions of past events ran through her head almost like a movie reel from an old time movie theater. Some past episodes were funny, others extremely painful. She noticed right away that these were things that she had done to hurt others. All she wanted now was for him to stop singing, stop making her miserable. How can Lindy say that this is relaxing? she wondered. It’s awful!

Tony continued to play his guitar softly, sometimes singing, sometimes humming the tune though Crystal could not identify the names of the songs or the words to the music she was hearing. Once in a while, she would glance at Maggie who seemed to be in her own world while the music wafted through their minds. Figuring that her friend was all right, she sat back in the chair and just enjoyed the quiet, relaxing sounds as the Troubadour sang one song after another. Taking a small sip of the drink, Crystal discovered that it had all of her favorite tastes. The chocolate blended beautifully with the raspberry sweetness. “I’m in heaven” she whispered softly to herself.

Those nasty letters I wrote to Jennifer. How did he know? Affairs she had, dates she skipped without saying anything. Hurts she inflicted. Thoughts scurried through her head, one after the other while the music of the Troubadour continued though she hoped he would stop, prayed that he stop before her heart broke in two. She glanced around, loathing that anyone would see her, notice her as if she had a red letter on her forehead. Ashamed of herself as at no other time in her life, she began to sob, great tears coming from deep inside her.

“STOP!! STOP IT! NO MORE! I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. No longer worried about what others would think, she pleaded with the young man to cease his singing so sure that he was the reason for her misery. He stopped abruptly. Maggie continued to sob uncontrollably, finding no comfort in his just sitting there since he was staring straight at her, boring a hole into her mind with his eyes.

Still sobbing quietly, wishing her friend would say something, Maggie turned to study Crystal for a moment who appeared to be asleep though she could not even guess as to how that could happen. Slowly, she rotated in her seat to stare at Tony who locked eyes with her. She was held fast by his gaze. It was as if Maggie was glued to her seat though she wanted so badly to exit now, so uncomfortable did she feel.

He once more started to strum the guitar softly. Maggie’s mind was whirling out of control and then………..it wasn’t. Now, pictures of a place she had never seen flashed through, a beautiful, amazing panorama, wild awesome colors. She could tell that this place was happy. Yearning to be in that place, that time, she felt the presence of another individual, glowing white, standing tall.

“Follow your heart, Maggie. Leave the mistakes and the horrors and come follow Me. I am the Light.” Maggie strained to follow yet something held her to the chair. While she struggled to stand, the glow receded. Puzzled, she looked up to see the Troubadour standing in front of her. “What are you seeking, Maggie? Why are you here?”

“I don’t know. All I can say is that I was drawn to you by your picture. Please help me! I need what you have! Please!!” she pleaded with him, her heart breaking as she uttered those words.

“Ask Him yourself, Maggie. He hears you. Tell Him! He will accept you. Just ask! Get rid of the trash. It holds you here. You can’t leave until you make a choice. There are no fence sitters, child. Confess it all to Him. He loves you. Give it all up.” The Troubadour continued to encourage her with his song. She had not noticed that he was singing to her, each word a welcome soothing, each note a fresh breeze to her heart.

“Jesus, help me! Please forgive me. I have done so much wrong. Please help me.” Sobbing, her head fell to the table top. A hand stroked her hair, an arm hugged her and pulled her close. She felt so loved and comforted that she wished it never to end. The song continued for what time, she had no idea. It did not matter. No longer did anything matter except right here, right now. Slowly, Maggie lifted her head. The Troubadour continued to sing, his voice relaxing her even more. No one was around her, yet the touch persisted softly, then slowly it left.

Maggie blinked her eyes. Crystal sat in her chair as she had before drinking her beverage and listening to the sounds of the guitar and the songs. Nothing appeared to have changed……except Maggie. Suddenly, it occurred to her that nothing was really the same now. Excited to share her joy, Maggie turned to talk to Crystal when a still, small voice came to her…”Crystal will not understand you right now. Let her come back and listen to the songs again. She will see what you have seen. I will guide you if you will allow it. Go and do nothing more to hurt yourself. You are loved, child.” Maggie blinked once more, stared at Crystal and began to smile.

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It has been difficult of late to write, let alone write short stories. Yet, I am compelled to do so simply because it is my job. My editor has been after me to get my short stories into the magazine before he has a full scale attack. Frankly, I would like to see that attack he continually threatens. Of course, should he ever actually have said attack, I could be looking for another job much like my favorite journalist in the movie “Runaway Bride”, the character Richard Gere plays. Ah but I know that I will get the stories in on time as usual, if only I had an inspiration. Ike Grahame called himself “Last Minute Man”. I would call myself…”Too Late For Any Deadline Man”. I do have a few confidence issues. But those can wait. I have a deadline to meet.

Just as I was sitting down to the computer, the phone rang. It always does when I have something to do. The caller was my friend, Randle, who just happens to be my drinking buddy. Well, not really. I don’t drink. He does. But since he’s such a colorful character, I figured that I could get at least an inspired story or two out of him just by being with him. The truth is, he’s a laugh a minute when he gets on a roll. Rolls come in a wide variety of moods though. I have to watch it. If he gets into a cranky attitude, the whole place is a war zone. Not that I can’t get something great out of that but it’s sort of dangerous to the bystander. Nevertheless, we will head out to “the place” tonight. In the meanwhile, maybe if I keep at it, I’ll have an idea. Then I could bail on Randle without feeling like a jerk. If not, I get a few minutes without the computer staring me in the face with it’s empty screen. It’s a trade off.

Hey, I know when to write a narrative. Insert the starting paragraph to the new story here.

As the sun crept over the horizon, Johnathan toiled over the manuscript he had been working on all day. True to his word, he was gearing up to accompany Randle on their journey to “the place” otherwise known to the locals as the “Watering Whole”. Someone had tried to give the place such a clever name that no one would be caught dead calling it that, hence “the place”.

What did I tell you. I have the gift! Yeah, and the chocolate covered ants are really great this year too. Blah. I am ready to go to “the place” but Randle isn’t here yet. That isn’t like him. I tried calling his house but not even his wife would answer the phone. Too strange. Maybe this would make a good mystery. What do you think?

It was a dark and stormy night.

Nah, that’s too cliche. We have to rev it up a bit.

Winds were howling like the creepy sounds of the wolves in a scary movie. Suddenly the lights went out putting the whole house into a very haunted looking darkness. Things were moving in the shadows.

Oh, this is ridiculous. Are you buying any of that tripe? Me either. When the mind is going blank, there is nothing you can do about it except try to stimulate it to bring out the stories. So far, zilch. I still have lights in the house. The wind is not blowing. No wolves howling. In fact, it is so calm that’s almost scary. I wonder where Randle is. Surely, he should have been here by now. Hmm, that’s strange for him.

More narrative:

Johnathan decided to go on over to Randle’s house. He packed up the laptop in case a good idea hit while out and took off in his rusty banger. A few coughs, quite a bit of gray smoke and a couple of blocks later, Randle’s abode came into sight. Weird lights shined from the windows suggesting a party in action but there was no noise, no sounds of laughter from within. Parking beside the unfamiliar pickup in the drive, Johnathan knocked at the door. Just like in the horror films and with what appeared to be a cliche, the door slid open silently. Hoping to find Randle at home, Johnathan peered into the hallway. Nothing. Lights blinked on and off in the livingroom off to the left. Fearing the worst, he crept up to the livingroom doorway and peered around the corner.

“Surprise!!!!” yelled the crowd festively dressed in costumes, some extremely strange. Johnathan tried not to scream but it came rushing from his mouth. Embarrassed beyond belief, he backed up into the hallway expecting to escape as fast as humanly possible. But it was not to be. His friend stood behind him, drunk of course.

“Hey ya buddy. This here party’s fer you. Whatcha tryin’ ta leave fer?” Randle would not allow Johnathan to move in any direction except back into the livingroom.

Oh, who am I trying to kid here. Randle wouldn’t throw me a surprise party. He isn’t the type. His idea of a party is going to “the place” and getting plastered. He could care less if anyone else had fun as long as he does. I wonder where the heck he is. The phone again. Sigh. This time, Randle has a good excuse for not showing up. He’s at the hospital getting his stomach pumped. Guess he ate one too many hot peppers and one of them was full of poison. POISON? Whoa. I had better find out about that.

The narrative should go right here.

Johnathan headed to the hospital as quickly as his rusty bucket of bolts would allow, which was considerably less than a decent car might travel. Some day, he could afford to get a new car when the writing career took off. Of course, that was probably a pipe dream. He ran into the hospital looking for his best friend. (note here: Suddenly Randle has become a best friend. When did that happen?) Randle was in the ER apparently none the worse for wear. That drunk thing comes in handy at times it seems.

“It’s the wife, Johnny. She’s tryin ta off me. Dude, I gotta git outa there. Can I bunk wit you fer a while? That woman is gonna kill me, Dude! Ya know what I mean, right?”

Johnathan sighed dramatically. He knew that Randle could be a little over the top sometimes but he wasn’t sure about this time. His wife, Carla, had always been a little strange but friendly when he’d gone over there. However, he had not seen her in a few weeks either. There was no way of knowing if she was doing this to him or he was simply eating old food stashed in one of the corners of his house. It was beginning to look like a mystery. And that would make a good story for his editor.

I could go on with more of this load but the truth is that I have no clue where Randle is. Probably on another bender. He does that from time to time but it sounded good, right? And that’s what the story will be about. I sure do hope my editor buys this crap because if he doesn’t, I’m liable to be out on my…….it would be a painful descent. And of course, just as I finally have a story idea, the doorbell rings. It’s Randle who is none the worse for wear and wanting to go to “the place”. It is inevitable. I might as well go with him. If I don’t, he’ll jaywalk. He always does.

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Sunshine was streaming through the window as Maggie opened her eyes to the new day. Once more, things started to stream through her mind making it hard to stop and just be quiet. Not a day went by that she didn’t have characters of stories trying to get her attention inside her mind. But then, Maggie was a storyteller. In fact, she knew that she was born to tell stories. But this morning, she didn’t want all that running around in her mind because this day was different. She had to prepare for a new job and she needed to focus on that. Actually, Maggie was desperate to focus on that job that was needed so much. The rent was about due and the electricity was going to be shut off in a couple of weeks.

With a huge sigh, Maggie threw off the covers and wobbled into the bathroom. In a few minutes, she was back out getting into the jeans and t-shirt to wear for work. It’s not much of a job, she thought, but it’s a paycheck and the Lord knows I do need one fast.

With another sigh, she headed to the kitchen to grab a bite that she could cram into her mouth while heading out the door to the bus stop. Just as she got to the corner, the bus began to drive away.

“Hey, please stop!! I have to get on that bus! PLEASE STOP!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. The bus driver didn’t hear her so Maggie whistled like she had never done before. Brake lights came on and the bus slowed down. Running as hard as she could, she got to the bus just as it stopped once more.

“Oh thank you so much for stopping!”

The driver, looking incredibly bored, told her he didn’t care one way or the other. It was just another fare to him. Maggie looked strangely at him and sat right behind the driver’s seat. Since she had a few miles to go, maybe a nice little story would be good for him. So, Maggie started to tell him a tall tale about a bus driver who solved mysteries in his spare time. By the time her stop came up, the driver wanted to hear more. But Maggie told him that she would have to see him again tomorrow.

At her job, she met some very nice people. Others were just not interested in someone new that might not stay more than a few days. During the lunch hour, Maggie introduced herself by telling a story about three people on a life raft that had the courage to go downstream to the waterfall despite the warnings that were given them. They survived. As she finished the story, the people in the lunch room cheered for the victors and the tense story.

For months, Maggie had the same weekday routine; going to work on the bus, telling stories on the bus both ways and telling her stories at work as well. Her family heard her stories on the weekends when she went home to see her parents and sisters. All was well with Maggie and her life was just as she wanted it. Well, not exactly.

What Maggie loved about her life was that she could make friends pretty fast with her stories. But the thing she did not like was that everyone, including her family, only loved her for her stories, not for herself. She was sure that they wanted nothing to do with her if she could not tell stories. So, she wished that she didn’t have to tell the stories anymore. Not one. Actually, Maggie could not imagine life without her stories.

Sunshine was streaming through the window as Maggie opened her eyes to the new day. Another new day with more stories to tell. As she got up from the bed, it occurred to her that nothing was running through her mind except getting ready for work. Nothing. No characters, no stories! It was awesome! She was FREE! She got ready in record time and headed out the door to the bus stop.

Marvin’s bus was right on time and, for once, so was she. “Hey Marvin!” As the driver greeted her with his now usual friendly smile, she sat down in her customary place right behind him.

“So, what is Curtis up to now? Maggie, ya gotta tell me what the guy did and how the story ended before I pop! I waited for you to tell me about this all weekend. So give!”, Marvin pleaded with her. A blush started to rise on her face. Not a word came out of her mouth. Maggie sat there with a horrified look on her face. Then she dropped her head down.

“Oh no!”, she muttered to herself. A tear trickled down her face and dropped into her lap. “What have I done?”

Marvin looked at her, perplexed at her lack of interest in telling the end of the story she had started last week. When he noticed the tear, he tried to find out if she was sick. But Maggie would not look at him. Because the rest of the passengers had to get to work too, he drove the bus onto the route. Maggie did not raise her head until her stop came up. She quickly ran off the bus without looking back. Marvin shook his head sadly having missed the story he’d been anticipating for days.

Her entrance into work was noticed by everyone. They hollered good morning to her as she made her way to her locker. Most of the day, Maggie kept her head down even though people tried to talk to her. Ignoring the usual crowd at her regular table, she got her lunch and went outside to sit alone in the shade under a tree. Her friend, Beth sat down beside her, worried that something was very wrong. Maggie could not bring up the words to tell Beth what was really wrong. In fact, she could not talk at all except to say one and two words at a time.

Beth suggested that Maggie needed to see the nurse at the company office but she turned that down knowing what the problem really was. People still wanted to hear her stories though. They bugged her for at least one to tide them over until she felt better. They understood that it would be a while. They were willing to wait then.

Each day went by like that, no stories. Maggie would not talk to people anymore. She became very reclusive. If it had not been for the money she needed to live on, she would have quit her job right then and there. She stopped going to her parent’s home for the weekends preferring, instead, to stay in her apartment, safe, alone and obviously unloved since she no longer could tell a story.

One night after she’d gotten home from work, there was a knock at the door. Wondering who it could be since she had all but severed all ties to friendships and family, she opened the door and heard “SURPRISE!!!” So many people had crammed themselves into the hallway. Some were from her job and others were the family she had decided not to visit last weekend.

“What are you all doing here?” she inquired in total disbelief.

“We decided since you were not talking to us, we would hold a ‘talking to Maggie’ party. Whatever is bothering you, we are here to help. Talk to us, Maggie. Tell us what’s wrong.”, Beth pleaded with her. Her parents, holding her in a hug, asked the same.

Maggie burst into tears, heartbroken that she was not able to tell them anything. It just hurt too much. And of course, she was too embarrassed too. Finally, her mother and Beth took her into her bedroom to sit down and talk.

“Give. What is up with you!” demanded Beth sternly. “Yes, Maggie dear. What can possibly be the problem that is breaking your heart so?” asked her Mother.

She wailed out “I can’t tell any stories. They won’t come into my mind! I’m hopeless. No one will love me anymore. No one cares anymore. No forgiveness can help this. I wished my stories away!” She fell back onto the bed sobbing.

“Maggie, look at me! Right now!” Her Mother took her by the hand and pulled her up to eye level with her. “Now you listen to me, young lady. I will not have this self pity from you. For one thing, you are well loved. Didn’t you see how many people are in your living room right now worried about you? For goodness sake, there’s a bus driver out there wanting to make sure you will be all right. I have no idea who that person is. Do you? But he cares enough to take the time to be here just like all your friends from your job and, us, your family too. Now, why on earth would you try to wish away your fabulous stories?”

“Momma, I wanted people to love me for ME, not my stories. I thought that everyone only wanted the stories, not me. I’m hopeless!” She wailed again.

Beth pulled Maggie to her and gave her a huge bear hug. “Maggie, you are my best friend. If it had not been for you, I would have quit that job months ago. Remember the day you showed up? I was about to leave there for good when you started telling that first story. But it wasn’t the story that made me stay. It was you! I care about you and I have been worried about you for the last few days. Now come out and tell these people there’s nothing wrong with you, okay?”

“All right but I don’t have a single story to tell. There are none.”

“Maggie, have you been listening? So, there are no stories. Big deal. We love YOU!” her mother told her very sternly.

They all trooped out to the living room where everyone greeted her with a great big smile and cake, lots of chocolate cake. Chocolate can cure many things.

Sunshine was streaming through the window as Maggie opened her eyes to the new day. Once more, things started to stream through her mind making it hard to stop and just be quiet. And Maggie smiled. Then with a “WHOOP!” she got up and ready for work. It was going to be a wonderful storytelling day after all.

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Ralph, you met a while back. He was my best bud. I say “was” because he found a new life. I dunno what his new name is. Forgot already. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t spend much time with the rest of us anymore. Hey, I miss him but it’s for the best. The dude is happy. What more can ya want? He sees us sometimes and barks from the window of the car he’s in. Nice looking master he’s got now. Bet she don’t hit em like the guy did.

Oh, name’s Wendell. Ralph told ya about me. I’m your average sorta lookin’ pooch. A shepherd, cocker spaniel, lab, doberman mix, heavy on the mix part. I don’t care. It don’t matter to me. When me and Ralph was wanderin’ around, I was a bum, a homeless wanderer. Well, I don’t guess he said that about me but it’s true. And I guess the worst part was that I had nobody to wander with anymore. That made me sad. I sat right there on those steps all day instead of goin’ out to all our favorite places. The shops were all giving us stuff to eat. But that was something that Ralph fixed up. I just went along for the food. It was a good life. Was.

The rest of the pack comes around sometimes but not that often anymore. When Ralph went away, it sort of took the pack right out of us all. Somebody needs to get us all back together. Well, I do see Candy once in a while. She is so fine. I don’t know what she sees in that uncouth (Ralph used to use that word. Means dirty and don’t do stuff right…I think) thing she hangs around with named Butch. Bulldog. Jerk of a dog. Bullies anyone who tries to talk to Candy. Now Candy is a really great looking gal. Poodle mix. She hates that mix part. Thinks she’s not as good as those snobby, nose-in-the-air idiot looking things with strange colors. I think she ought to see that none of us cares about all that. And then I saw her coming towards me that day. Uh uh. I shoulda walked the other way, man.

“Candy, doll, come on over here. I haven’t seen ya in a while. How’s about me and you gettin’ together tonight and walk around the town?”

That was my first mistake. It went downhill from there.

“Oh Wendell, you know I only have eyes for Butch. But thanks for the offer. Um, wait a second. Butch is going to be inside tonight for his flea bath. Maybe we could do that.”

So, we went out. It was great…while it lasted. Some blabbermouth of a dog got back to Butch about me. The next day was bad, really bad.

Butch found me while I was going to the shops alone. Gave up lookin’ fer somebody to go with me and I was hungry nuff to try it on my own. I knew I shoulda asked somebody to go with me. He stood there lookin’ at me like I swallowed his lunch. Mad. Man was he mad.

“Hey Butch, ol’ buddy. Whatcha up to?” I thought if I acted like there was nothin’ wrong, he might just think what he heard was just a rumor. No such luck.

“Hello Wendell. You ready to get chewed up? I want breakfast. You need to go to doggie heaven, buddy.”

“Now look, Butch, you don’t need to go to all that trouble for me, buddy. I can take a hint. I’ll just get on out of here and find a new place to get stuff to eat. Okay? Nice doggie.” I didn’t really think that would work. Just gave it a shot. You know. Desperate dogs do desperate things. Think I gave myself away when I panted so hard that it hurt my tongue?

Taking one more look at Butch, I figured my best bet was ta run like a striped ape, whatever that means. I took off on a dead run. (Maybe the word “dead” was not a good idea at the time) Running past all the shops was pretty easy since the humans were out and about by this time. I could run through their legs and around em to get out of harm’s way, so to speak. But Butch just ran right behind me. Once, I slipped on a slick spot and slid for quite a ways. Had to laugh when I saw Butch land on the same spot. He slid clear into a can that fell over on him. It was then that I knew I was home free. Well, maybe.

The net came from somewhere I never seen. But just as it tried to get me, I got away from it too. Oh great! Butch AND the dog catcher people. Not a good day at all. Guess I wasn’t lookin’ where I was goin’ when I ran smack into a can myself. OUCH! That hurt. I seen little puppies runnin’ around. Thought I wasn’t never gonna get rid of all that in my eyes. By the time I got up from that, both Butch and the dog people were comin’ at me…from two different directions. There was an open door so I ran into that shop thinkin’ that I’d get away from one of em. I could maybe battle one at a time. Dunno.

First thing I seen was a tower of stuff…I guess that’d be after I ran into it. The crash was pretty loud. Scared the crap right outa me. Yep, there it was. But I didn’t have time to be happy I did my business on the floor. Had to get outa there NOW! Got up and ran over to another tower of stuff. I didn’t run inta it though. Took a right turn inta another tower. Crash! Scared me again. No results. Man, I hadta get outa there.

About that time, I heard this funny noise comin’ outa a human. She looked really funny with her face screwed up like that. So, I ran to the back door. They all got back doors cuz I been in some of em. Butch was standin’ right there. Nope. Ain’t gonna go that way. Back I went inta that towerin’ bunch a stuff. Bang, crash. Yep, got nuther one. By this time, I was scared so silly that when I ran to the front of the store, it wasn’t no surprise that the dog people were right there in that door. Man, I was in deep sh….trouble. I needed to hide and fast.

There was this really great lookin’ dark place right under that table so I ran there. Got under it just fine. Sat on the cloth thing on the floor. CRASH!! Nah, man. Not again. I heard that funny noise again. Sorta a cross between a snort and a doggie laugh but not. Know what I mean? Guess not. Well, anyway I got pulled outa that spot by this funny lookin’ woman who, like I said, had this really funny look on her face. When I dared to look up at her, she was laughin’ really hard…..at ME!!! I do NOT suffer that indignity lightly! Who the heck am I kiddin’. She got me.

But what was really great was that she didn’t hit me or nuthin’. She just started pettin’ me and talkin’ like I was somebody important. Man, that felt so good. I didn’t know what ta do but I was lovin’ the pettin’ for sure. Guess she decided I was okay because she took me to this place and shut the door. I dunno what happened after that but I never seen the dog people again. Butch, him I see once in a while when he stands at the back door. But she don’t let him in so I’m doin’ pretty well. Turns out she’s owner of the china shop. She thinks I’m cute. I got a new name now but I ain’t real sure what it is yet but it sounds great comin’ from her. Now I see why Ralph likes his lady so much. I get fed alla the time, got toys to play with. It’s a good life.

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Monica walked out of work that day and didn’t look back. She just didn’t have it in her to stay with everything going on there. It had been at least a paycheck for so long but now……it’s just too much to take. Sitting in the car, she mulled over where she was going. I can’t go home yet, she thought. They’ll think I ditched work…again. Well, I guess I did. Where should I go?

Sitting on a bench in the park, she took note of the people going back and forth on the path under the trees. Most of them were obviously retired and enjoying the beautiful day. Many people were enjoying the walking path. Couples walked through the park together.

One of the things that was bothering her was the sermon she listened to yesterday at church. The pastor talked about something to do with some “last days” of something and about a loving God Who had sent His Son to die for people. She really wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention at the time. But now, it was starting to come back to her. And that was making her restless.

Normally, Monica loved going to church because her friends were there. This was probably the only time during the month that she could see them all in the same place. Usually, after church they all got together at someone’s home to catch up on things going on in their lives. These were friends Monica had since college several years ago. And now, most of them were successful…all except her. And to add to it, she felt that things were getting even more out of control in her life. Her job was a run-of-the-mill type that anyone could do. The rest of her friends had all done things they loved. One was a top dress designer, there was a surgeon, a master chef and another an owner of a computer software company. They all had gone way beyond what they had dreamed..all but her.

Her family tried to tell her that not everyone can be what they want to be. She had dreamed of being in an executive position in a huge international company. She had trained for that in college but when she graduated, unlike the others who went on to other studies, she decided to seek her dream right away. She just knew that she had the potential to rise to the top as soon as she hit the door to any company. Obviously, they needed her! And then…..they didn’t. Application after application was filled out only to be ignored or rejected. She did not have enough experience even for the entry level positions in most companies. Monica was so frustrated. And now, even the company she works for at the moment does not appreciate her enough. All they ever give her to do are the small things that don’t mean much.

Maybe what she needed was a new job. This would only be the 4th one in 6 years. None of them had panned out really. Monica knew that companies didn’t hire people of her training just to do the little things. That’s ridiculous. She knew better than that. Some had said she had too much of an ego. What do they know? Snorting just from the memories of those people who had no clue what she was going through. They could not know because not only were they not as smart as she, they didn’t have the class she had either.

She bowed her head from the heavy thoughts running through her mind; the sermon that still would not go away, the people that she worked with..none of them were her friends because they told her how awful she is. That hurt. Didn’t they see how much those words hurt her? Didn’t they know that saying those things could only mean that they weren’t really her friends?

While her head was still bowed, someone sat down beside her on the bench. When she looked up, there sat an old gentleman. He had on a suit, tie and bright shiny shoes. Monica was so curious she forgot that she was staring at him when he looked over at her.

“Pardon me. Did I disturb you? I can find another bench.” He started to get up when she shook her head.

“No, that’s all right. I was just sitting here thinking my life over and deciding that it needed improvement but I don’t know how to accomplish that right now. A new job maybe. Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that.” Monica blushed over the indiscretion of her remark to a stranger.

With very gentle eyes and smile, the man spoke in a quiet voice, “Monica, you have only to seek the Master. You heard about him last Sunday. He will be glad to give you all the direction for your life that you need.” With that, he got up and slowly walked away. Shocked, she couldn’t say a word.

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Gail sat at her computer staring at the blank screen. A white background and nothing more. She was straining to think of something to put there but it just would not come into her mind. Deciding that the best way to think of something was to ignore it for a moment, she ticked off in her mind the checklist. Kids at school. Husband at work. Dog had a bath. Picked up the clutter. Had her third cup of coffee. Blank screen. Need chocolate!!! A store trip? NO! Blank screen.

“This is getting me nowhere!” she shouted to the house in frustration. The dog lifted his head briefly but because he was used to her outbursts during writing, he put his head back down knowing she had no real crisis this time. Just then the phone rang. With a bit of dread, Gail answered the phone. It was Barb wanting to know if she wanted to go out for a cup of coffee.

“No, I can’t. I have to stay here and get to work.” She knew it was an excuse but she had to try it. “Well, if you can’t I suppose I’ll just go get my shopping done. But the truth is that you sound like something else is bugging you. What is it?” Barb was her best friend and could read her like a book. Sometimes that was not a good thing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just that the work is staring me in the face and I really need to get it done, you know?” Gail just knew that Barb would challenge her statement. But she just said that she would talk to her later and hung up. Gail sighed and went back to staring at her computer screen. Blank screen. It was taunting her.

Gail had no idea how long she had been staring at that screen when a knock came at the door. For once, it looked like her dog would go to the door and bark an alarm. But no, it was too much exertion for him. He put his head back down and sighed that doggie sigh. The knocking continued to rip through the silence. She almost went to the door but decided that whoever it was would go away soon anyway. More persistent knocking came. Maybe she should go see who it is. Gail opened the door but whoever it was had left. She had waited too long.

“That seems to be my lot in life today, waiting too long.” She muttered to herself. Despite the low tone, the dog heard the muttering and growled at Gail. “That’s about enough of that. If I wanted a critic I would just send all my writings into a magazine! Leave me alone, got it?” All at once she realized that she was arguing with a dog. An appropriate bark of laughter went through the air coming from Gail. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I guess I had that coming, didn’t I. Oh, what do you know. You aren’t even a good food critic! Look at what you are willing to eat!”

The dog decided that none of this had anything to do with him anymore so he went back to sleep somewhere in the middle of what Gail was saying. She once again muttered to herself. Something about blank screens, bad dogs, a chocolate fit, not enough coffee in the world and other assorted blasts at whatever occurred to her at the time.

“This is not happening! I never have this problem. What the heck is wrong with me?” She stared into a mirror assessing what she was seeing but that held no answers either. With a deep sigh of frustration, she went back to the computer and sat down again. Blank screen. She keeps staring at the screen in the hope that something will just pop up and she won’t have to have this amazingly bad day continuing for her. She sighs one more time.

The ringing of the phone pierces the air. She grabs it and answers. “HELLO! What do you want?” she hissed into the phone. On the other end was the unfortunate telemarketer that rang her phone at the wrong time. “Leave me alone!” She slammed down the phone with a deep satisfaction that at least one thing was going right today. She walked back over to the computer and sat down for seemingly the hundredth time that day. Blank screen.

For the first time all day, the dog gets up and whines at her. “I cannot believe this! Is anything else going to interrupt me?” She knew that the dog just wanted to go outside and she knew better than to deny him that privilege. The dog led the way as she opened the door to the back yard which was fenced in for just such times. She let him run. He could be out for a while, she thought. That would keep him from stopping me again. She sat down again at the computer. Blank screen.

Finally, in a fit of utter frustration, she yelled to the whole neighborhood “If I just knew what to make for supper tonight, I could write this stupid grocery list!”

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The room was silent, blessedly silent, as Benny sat in his easy chair and read his newspaper. Light was flowing through from the kitchen. He could smell supper cooking in the slow cooker. Looking at his watch, he knew that he only had a few more minutes before……. Reading the top stories proved to be a longer activity than he had originally thought since he really could not keep his mind on the subject. There wasn’t much time left. He began to feel a panic attack coming on. NO! I will not succumb to such things, he thought. I will not!

Going back to his newspaper, he started to read a story about corruption in the local government. Off in the distance, a car door slammed, then another and one more. Suddenly, Benny started to shake, he began to breathe in short, choppy breaths. He turned his head back and forth quickly hoping that it was someone else’s car, someone else’s driveway. But he knew in his heart that it was his car. His time was up! Sweating now, he jumped up and ran to his and his wife’s bedroom just at the end of the hall.

The front door burst open and sounds of laughter came through. First a boy about 10 came running in, then a girl about 8 years old sang as she walked through the door. Right behind them, a woman, carrying a grocery sack, walked in with a very active black puppy on a leash. She called out, “Benny? We’re home. She was much better at obedience training today. She really only bit and licked the instructor probably a dozen times. Of course, she did have an accident but that’s to be expected at her age, don’t you think? He thinks she’ll get the hang of doggie manners in just a few weeks. Honey? Are you here?”

From the bedroom came a muffled “Yes, I’m here. I’ll be right out, Sandy. Sounds great. I hope she does learn all that. I really do.” A more muffled “I have to believe it!” was barely heard.

Sandy moved into the livingroom and put down the sack. The puppy decided the sack was a really great prize to try for so she headed straight for it. Sandy jerked the leash lightly and the hyperactive pup calmed down to standing and panting. A sound of a door opening at the end of the hall got Sandy’s AND the pup’s attention. Suddenly, the puppy started barking in her very high pitched puppy bark. Sandy began to laugh hysterically. Someone was walking down the hall.

Into the livingroom came Benny covered from head to toe in various types of sports equipment. He had on spiked shoes from his baseball uniform, padded pants as well as gloves from his goalie uniform, chest padding for a catcher, football padding for his shoulders and a motorcycle helmet. He stopped in front of Sandy and the poor pooch who by this time had started to cower and tremble behind her. A tiny whine came from the pup.

Laughing so hard that she had tears coming out of her eyes, she tried to speak but it took a while before she could do so. “BBBBBB..Benny? Don’t worry, I’ll take her outside. She won’t get you tonight.”

Pulling on the leash, she staggered out the door to put the puppy into the fenced yard. In the distance, hysterical laughter could still be heard.

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Beth was sitting on the window sill staring out at the ducks in a pond in the distance. She could hear them squawking contentedly. Twittering came from birds who talked excitedly to each other. Squirrels running on the tree limbs directly in front of her caught her attention for a second but were soon forgotten. Her far away look made it clear that she was in another place, another time.

Memories passed through her mind, often giving her a chuckle or making her feel momentarily sad. All were part of her childhood. She thought about the time that Pete threw the ball to her. She missed it and had a black eye for most of that month. The year she was 10, Rhonda gave her the first friendship bracelet she’d ever had right before her family moved away. That thought made her sad because she’d never heard from Rhonda again. A couple of days later, she met Mandy. They went everywhere together, did everything together. They were best friends through thick and thin and entered high school together. Beth smiled as she recalled how worried they were about fitting in at the high school.

She thought of her date to the prom, Robert, who looked so good in his rented tux. He couldn’t dance at all but she didn’t care. Prom dresses were awesome that year including hers which was a beautiful light beige, with shoes that were dyed to match and it all suited her perfectly. Robert made it clear that she was the only prom date there. That was one of those things that was so special about him.

Beth remembered how scared she was when her parents took her to college that first year. It was so big. But Dad took her aside and reassured her that all things seem scary when you first start out but just wait a few days. Things will get better. And they did. She had found new friends when Mandy could not go to that college. She laughed thinking about all the girls that lived in the dorm who were just like her, new and scared. She and three others banded together knowing that girls in numbers were always better than alone.

She frowned when the thought came that her new roommate had not been exactly what she had in mind. They didn’t get along at all for several weeks, not saying a word to each other. But then, one day, they both craved the same snack food at the machine in the hall. Francie opened up then and they talked for hours totally forgetting the snack they both “had to have”. Beth gently smiled again recalling the dates they went on, sometimes together. Francie had this great way of getting guys to want blind dates and Beth went along with it. There were the disasters, of course, like when her date was so picky that it drove her nuts. They laughed for hours about that one.

The memories came and went through her mind, sometimes so quickly that she could barely recall them. Others stayed so that she could enjoy them one more time. The one that stuck out by far was when Francie introduced her to her brother, Mathew. Beth and Mathew were quite an item on campus for about three years. Then a foolish fight split them up. A tear escaped and ran down her face, then another.

She snapped out of it. Better not do that, not now. A knock came on the door. “Just a minute, please”, she yelled to the door. She stopped to check herself out in the floor length mirror. Satisfied, she opened the door to a man who asked her if she was ready. “Yes, I think so.” The man looked at her, gently patting her hand.

With a sigh of pleasure and dread, she walked with the man to the entrance to the chapel. Her father kissed her and gave her a big hug. “Beth, this is the happiest day of my life. You are so beautiful. I’m certain that he will love you forever.” And with pride showing on his face, he stepped up and offered his arm to Beth. She took it, nervously checking her gown again. “Is anything out of place? Am I okay?” He nodded.

From inside the doors, the wedding march could be heard. Dad and daughter walked slowly down the aisle of the church. She looked to the right side and saw Mandy and Francie standing there grinning and encouraging her with their eyes. Again, Beth felt like crying but held in the tears when she saw her husband-to-be, Mathew, standing there waiting for her. He looked so good in that tux. Mathew watched as his bride came closer to him, smiling. “I love you so much”, he whispered to her. Beth looked at him with adoring eyes. She knew right then that they were going to be just fine. The pastor began to pray.

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Sounds of the extremely loud television permeate the room. Mike and his best friend, Rudy, are sitting on the couch. Rudy is cramming food into his mouth as fast as he can while watching the football game. Mike seems to have to wait on the crumbs and pieces to fall away from Rudy’s hands…and mouth. It’s almost half time but Rudy’s team is about to score.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! Whadda ya think, Mike?” Mike gives a growl and a woof in response as he gobbles down the latest bites to fall next to him on the couch. “Wait till half time, Mike. We can get the baseball game on the sports channel.” Mike growls again. “Just wait yer turn! This is my game. Ya can see yers in a minute. Man, yer gettin’ pretty bossy.”

Rudy crams more food into his mouth as the next play is executed. “YA!!!! That’ll show ‘em, won’t it, Mike?” By this time, there’s a rain of food scraps that Mike is totally engrossed in so does not answer. Rudy doesn’t notice so intent on his game.

In the background, there are several noises, just out of reach of those listening to the television. Scrapes and bangs could have been heard coming from the kitchen if only someone was listening. Unnoticed by the two on the couch, more sounds, some quite mysterious, come from the kitchen door.

“Hey, Mike. Get yer paws out of that bag of chips. Those are mine. You got yer doggie biscuits ta eat. Leave my stuff alone.” Once more, Mike gives a growl which is conveniently ignored by Rudy who suddenly switches the channel to another football game still in progress. Mike gets up and sits staring at Rudy for a few moments before pawing him on the arm. Rudy shrugs it off but Mike continues to paw until he gets aggravated with Rudy and slams his paw straight into the huge sub sandwich Rudy is holding making him drop it on the floor. Mike scrambles to grab it before Rudy can get there himself. Contentedly, Mike chomps down on the part that was left over.

“Aww, now cut that out, Mike. Yer gonna get yer turn in a minute. I wanna see the score on this here game first, got it?” Rudy looks back at the game and totally forgot that Mike had eaten his sandwich. He stares into the tv almost mesmerized by it.

After watching for a moment more, Rudy grabs the bag of chips from the table that Mike had been pawing and starts to scarf it down, cramming whole hands of chips in and crunching. That sound could be heard by both television watchers. Yet, the noises from the kitchen which are now getting louder and louder are not noticed by the pair on the sofa.

At the door to the kitchen, a black and white cat appears. With his mouth holding a string, he pulls and pulls till he gets the string and the tray attached to the string out of the kitchen without the two on the sofa noticing anything at all. They are oblivious to all things except the food and the television. The cat comes closer and finally stops right at Rudy’s feet.

“Bout time. Took ya long enuff.” Absentmindedly, Rudy picks up the tray and grabs the new sandwiches, chomping into it without so much as looking at what he has in his hands. He hands the doggie treats to Mike who also munches on them without looking at either the cat, Rudy or the treats. The cat sits patiently waiting.

It doesn’t take long for the pair on the couch to start to snore. When the cat hears that, he jumps up onto the sofa and curls up close to the remote. He paws it and the sound goes down. He paws again and the channels change until he comes to Animal Planet. A show is just starting featuring the lives of a number of cats. It’s obviously a series that he has been watching before. The cat begins to purr contentedly and smiles in catlike fashion.

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