I have also talked to Coach with regards as to who is paying for this trip. I should be able to get a government grant. He is ‘working on it’.

I stepped into the office, John was in there doing nothing as usual. Judy was working on some stuff on the computer. James and Jannet were cleaning up the printer room. Mayor Man was yapping on the phone, and it looks like he is in a bad mood as usual.

I don’t think this is a good time to tell him about Montreal.

“I got it.”, John said immediately as I stepped in.

“Got what?”, I asked, “A major mental malfunction?”

John looked at me and smiled, “I am now a police supervisor.”

“Oh, no.”, I said with sarcasm, “Now our police are going to get even lazier.  Just when you thought comatose was not lazy enough, along comes John. Excuse me, Supervisor John. Oh, shit.”

John was staring into space the whole time I was talking, but this is normal for him. He’s an idiot.

I continued, “More donut breaks, more standing around with thumbs up butts, longer response times, what else…?”

I turned to Judy, “What do you think, Judy? Is it a good idea for John to be a supervisor?”

Judy said nothing, but just began to laugh hysterically.

“I guess that’s a ‘no’, I looked at John.

John looked around at all of us, “I don’t give a crap what any of you think. It’s been done. As of tomorrow, I am a boss.”

“Very scary, that is.”, I said in a sarcastic voice while trying to imitate Yoda.

The Mayor walked into the office right at that time, “What the hell is this deal about you going to Montreal, Jake?”

Oh, boy. Someone spilled the beans. I wonder who? John? I wouldn’t be surprised.

I gave John a dirty look, and he smirked.

Now I have to awkwardly explain myself to Mayor Man, “Well, Jeremy is not going to be around for the month, and he wants me to keep training, so he is sending me to his friend’s gym in Montreal, and he is going to try to get a grant to pay for it. Isn’t that great?”

The Mayor looked at me with one of ‘those looks’, “Why can’t you just train at another gym around here?”

I raised my hand, and rubbed my fingers together, “I would have to pay more to train at another place. Besides, I am hoping the Government of Canada will give me a grant to assist my training. This gives me an excuse to apply.”

The Mayor did not look too happy, considering he is always complaining about my performance anyway, so in a rather angry voice he said, “…and how the hell is any work going to get done around here? Its bad enough that you are damn late every damn day, and now you are coming to me expecting me to give you a whole F-ing month off so you can flake off to Montreal to train for some stupid boxing match that you don’t have a chance in Hell of winning. Let me get it straight. Is that what you are asking? Really, tell me. Is that it?”

Oh boy, this is awkward. He’s a bit pissed. You think?

“Ummmmmm…yeah.”, I said rather quietly.

“No.”, he said firmly, and walked out of the room.

I looked around and noticed that the whole office was looking at me.

Judy’s phone rang, “Hello, Mayor’s Office.”

After a short pause she said, “Sure Jeremy, he’s right here.”

“It’s for you.”, she looked at me.

I don’t know why he didn’t call my extension, but it doesn’t matter.

“Coach.”, I said with happy surprise, “What’s up?”

Coach sounded excited, “I need you to drop by the gym after work. We received a letter from the government grants office.”

I was feeling happier now. Its possible that I may have hit a huge windfall thanks to the Canadian taxpayers.

“OK, I’ll come over now.”, I said happily.

“I have to go.”, I said to Judy, then quickly left.

As I was walking past the mayor’s office, I heard his big thundering voice after me, “Forget it, Jake. I’m not giving you time off to go to Montreal!”

It was beginning to rain, and it was one of those cold, autumn rains. Crappy.

I once again took the subway up to Dundas West station. There was no delay for a change. It confused me. I am not sure what to do when there is no delay. An even bigger surprise, the Forty was on time! Wow. Call the newsroom. This is true news!

Once I arrived at the Stockyards Gym,  Coach Jeremy was sitting at his desk filing through some papers. Sure enough, on his desk was a letter from the government grants office. It was not open. I thought he had already opened it.

“Hi, Coach.”, I said as I walked in.

“Are you ready?”, Coach said, “Let’s see what happened.”

He grabbed the letter and opened it.

“There is a cheque in here.”, He said happily, then began to slowly remove the envelope as to reveal one number at a time.

He read each number as it was revealed, “I see a four.”

“Four is a good number”, I said in a happy voice.

He revealed the next number, “I see an eight.”

“Eight is a very good number”, I said with a smile.

He revealed the next number, “Seven.”

“OK”, I said.

He pulled the envelope further, “I see… I see… I see $487…Well, that covers the first day.”

“What?!”, I yelled. “No wonder we always suck at the Olympics. If this is the kind of support our government gives our athletes.”

“Well, Jake, I guess flying to Montreal is out. You will have to take the bus.”, Coach said.

“There may be a bit of a problem with that.”, I said in a disappointed voice, The mayor is not letting me have any time off.”

The coach had a look of disappointment, “Oh, what an ass.”

“Its OK, I’ll work on it.”, I said, as I knew there would be a way to smooth-over the mayor.

Coach was in the middle of packing for his trip, “OK, Jake, I’m off for the rest of the month. I have to go. Please lock up when you leave. Good luck with the mayor. If you can’t get to Montreal, do your best to train on your own.”

“Yeah, Coach.”, I said, “Later.”

I did a bit of training after Coach left. Well, a bit, 90 minutes. I was so entrenched in my training, that I completely forgot about City Hell.

I collected all my belongings, locked up the gym, and headed for the bus stop.

I looked at the schedule, and the Forty is supposed to be every twelve minutes this time of day. That means the next one should be here in about an hour. One thing to always remember about the buses in Toronto, there are two schedules, the posted schedule, and the drivers’ schedule.

I waited at Runnymede Loop for a few minutes, a thirty, and a seventy-one went by, but no fourty. Of course not. You know how it works, if I didn’t want the bus there would  be all kinds. Buses for days!

I saw a seventy-nine coming, which goes to Runnymede Station, so I decided to take that.

By this time it was almost three o’clock, I really only have about an hour or so left to work. It is pretty-well pointless to go back to the office.

I went to Dundas West Station, and walked up to Glenlake Avenue.

I walked up to my crappy attic apartment. Three sets of stairs. Oh yeah, I have not yet told you about by crappy attic apartment. Well, it is in a nice house, on a nice street, but its a damn attic! It is basically a single room with a low ceiling, and a small closet in one corner. My bathroom is actually on the second floor, so I have to walk down the creaky stairs and across the hall. It is my own bathroom, but thanks to those noisey stairs, the whole house knows when I am using the toilet. In my room, I have a futon, table, chair, LCD TV with digital cable, computer, a counter and a small fridge, hotplate and mircowave, and a small stainless steel sink. I also have a toaster,  slow cooker and coffee maker. Nothing special, and only $765 per month. Yeah, welcome to Toronto.

When I walked in, the message indicator on my phone was flashing.

Oh crap. That is probably the mayor complaining about why I was not at work for most of the day.

I looked through the caller IDs, and sure enough, “CITY OF TORONTO” was there. Damn!

I went and checked my messages, there was one from Mayor Man, “Jake, I’m not sure where the hell you are, but I have re-considered. Don’t bother coming in for the rest of the month, have fun in Montreal.”

See, I knew I could change his mind.

This changes things. Now I have to get ready for a month in Montreal. I don’t even have a place to stay. I have a whole $487, that should cover a nice suite at the Hilton…for a day.

I hate travelling, it is always such a huge pain in the butt. At least it will give me some time away from those idiots called co-workers, and that fucking John.

One thing I do not have in this stupid room, is laundry facilities, and I don’t really have permission to use the ones in the basement. I’m sure it would be OK to use their machines, but with my luck something would happen. The washer would explode, or something. I decided to take all my dirty clothes down the street to the coin laundry.

Let me tell you something about this Laundry. I call it “Overload”. The reason is that the owner always complains about people overloading the machines.

While my clothes were washing, I went over to the condo across the street for a swim in their indoor pool. How did I get a key to the condo across the street? That is for me to know, and you to find out…Ha ha ha.

After my swim, I walked back to the Laundry. To my shock, the washer had stopped, and was still full of water. The stupid thing did not spin. I pulled the dripping-wet clothes from the washer and put them into the dryer. These are going to take a long time to dry! 

I put quite a few quarters into the dryer, and right about then the “Overload” lady came in.

I told her the problem with the washer, and she replied exactly as I thought, “You overload machine! Too much in it! You broke my machine! If you break machine, you pay for fix!”

Awww…shut up, asshole. Overload your ass!

I don’t have time for this crap. I have so much to do. I still have to find a hotel, and buy the bus tickets. Shit.

When I got home from the Laundry, I just dropped everything into my bag. I don’t fold. I’m a guy.

Shit…shit…shit…I need on the computer to book a hotel. The best thing to do at this point is to go to hostelworld.com. I don’t have the time or money for a real hotel, so I guess I will have to settle for a dorm. I used to stay in those when I was younger. There is nothing wrong with them. They are clean and not too expensive. Then, I will go to the Coach Canada website to check for ticket prices.

I booked the Alexendre–Montreal near Barri-UQAM, it is a nice place and only $23 a day. I then checked the prices for bus tickets, $28 each way. That is not bad. Let me finish packing and get the fuck out of here. I am so happy to be getting out of this piece of shit city.

The next bus to Montreal leaves in an hour. If I walk to the bus station, I can get there in just under an hour, if I take the TTC, I can get there in just over an hour.  Hmmmm…I’ll take a damn taxi.

After a 70-minute taxi ride through downtown Toronto damn traffic, and $44.50 fare, I obviously missed the bus, but they are apparently every hour. Good, I have time to line up for….oh, shit, look at that lineup for tickets. Damn!

I could feel my blood pressure slowly beginning to rise. See, this is why I hate travel….and I have to go to the bathroom!

When it was finally my turn at the ticket window, I walked up to the lady, and politely asked, “Hi. Montreal, please.”

“OK”, she said with a smile, “$112.75, please.”

I was expecting to pay $28, so this was news to me, and I was not the least bit happy about it, “Wait. I was just on the website and the ticket is $28. What the hell kind of stunt are you trying to pull, lady?”

She just looked at me and smiled, “That is a discounted fare, you have to book on the website at least ten days ahead of time. If you just walk in off the street and want a ticket for the next bus, you have to pay full fare, which is $112.75″

I was enraged, “Fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…you! That’s bullshit! I am not paying $112 for bus fare, and I am not leaving this window without a $28 bus ticket! Now, what can I get for $28?”

She clanked away on her computer for a few seconds, and then turned to me and said, “Guelph.”

“Guelph?!”, I questioned, “Guelph? You are sending me to Guelph? What the hell is there to do in Guelph?”

The ticket agent smiled and said, “There is a very good university there, sir.”

I looked at her with a glare, “I don’t want to go to university! I’ve been to university! I want to go to Montreal!”

“$112.75, please”, she said as if nothing had happened.

Nothing was going to crack her. I have to say she was very professional, “OK, fine.”, I slammed my Visa card onto the counter, “Here is your damn $112.75, and I hope you choke on it!”

She smiled and handed me the ticket, “Thank you, sir.  Bay twelve. Have a nice trip.”

“Bitch.”, I said quietly as I walked away, and went to bay twelve to wait for boarding.

Meanwhile, back at City Hall…

Judy was getting ready to leave for the day. It was almost eight o’clock. Judy likes to work late. First one in, last one out. I hate her. 

Her phone rang, “Shit….Hello, Mayor’s Office.”

The voice calling was very familiar. It was John, “Hey, Judy. Is Jake still in?”

Judy said in a sarcastic voice, “What do you think?”

“I didn’t think he was.”, John said, “I wanted to let him know that due to the department cutbacks initiated by him, they are sending some of us away to ‘train’ at other police departments. They are sending me away for three weeks… to Montreal! So, Jake should be happy. I’ll be out of his hair for a while.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER 1

The full moon hangs high above the blacken sky; its crimson shine blazing down upon Lafitte Cemetery.

In Louisiana’s town square Marti Gras begins. Meanwhile the silence of the cemetery becomes disturbed by the thunderous screams of a hysterical woman. She flees down the aisle of tombs and breaks for the entrance. Afterwards running like a bat out of hell into the well light alleyway. She takes a minute, bends over, and breathes in three big gulps of air. But startled by the ferocious growling that came from behind she prepared to bolt; however, the right heel of her black stiletto gets caught in a deep crack in the concrete and from her anxious thrashing breaks. As a result, she stumbles and falls face first into a mountain of garbage.

She lies there in the muck of trash listening to the squealing of mice from beneath her. At that moment she begins to cry, a flood of tears raining down from her hazel eyes. Gradually she stands and the left shoulder strap of her hot red mini-dress begins to flap in the wind. Exposing her firm bare breast and in addition the black fishnet stockings in which she is wearing that have been torn. Thus deep jagged cuts stream down her thighs, blemishing her flawless fair white skin. Once again a growl tore the silence and at that moment, the mice scattered leaving feces in their itinerary. While she ran behind a waste tank and placed her hands against her mouth, trying to silence her heaving and calm her panicking heart.

Just then the street lamps within the alley began to burst and the hasty clicking of razor sharp claws begun to beat against the cold concrete floor. Her heart began to beat faster as the alley was plunged into darkness. The idea to run crossed her mind many times, but along with those thoughts came the imagined scenarios. One in which consisted of the gigantic beast leaping out of the shadows and pouncing her into the ground. Afterwards slowly devouring her alive. Nevertheless she readied to run but to her horror when she poked her head, to check if it was safe; there the beast was. Its glowing ruby red eyes staring back at hers. The blood lust borrowing into her thoughts and forcing her heartbeat to drum like a vast band.

As she gawks the monster parts its jaw and saliva oozes in between its humongous satirical fangs.

An hour and a half later, a couple rushes away from the craze of Marti Gras and coincidentally finds the pitch black alley. The young man, John Rider, has jet black hair that is neatly gelled and combed to the back with lime green eyes. On the other hand, the prostitute, Olivia O’Riley, has bone straight blonde hair that stretches pass her buttocks and big ocean blue eyes. Olivia takes John by the shoulders and forcefully pushes him against the brick wall while simultaneously kissing him. Their tongues twining and slithering against each other like mating snakes. When Olivia breaks the kiss she smiles as a stream of spit drizzles downward between them like a shared noodle of spaghetti.  Olivia giggles and sets her head on John shoulder then whispers in his ear, “Aren’t you a naughty little boy. You need to be punished.”

A shiver ran down John’s back as Olivia got to her knees and undid his belt with her teeth. Next she dives her hand into his boxers. At that moment, Olivia takes hold of the shaft of his penis, but she notices his odd expression. “What’s wrong?”

 “Your hands are wet.” John replies.

Perry / Bloody Moon / Page 2 1/2

“What?” Olivia retorts.

At that point, Olivia takes out her hand and stands then saunters into the alley where a shallow gleam of light beams. She looks down at her palms which are stained with thick hot blood and screams.

 Forty-five minutes later Edward Rodriguez, a detective, is the first officer at the scene.  He is five feet and seveninches tall with black eyes and shoulder length black hair. And is wearing an ash gray suit with black dress shoes; he takes a pen and a notebook from the inner pocket of his jacket then kneels before the remains of the mutilated body.

Unpublished work © 2011 William Perry

It had been a few years sense the incident were the girl was revealed to be the missing princess but the war had not ended. The girl’s hair had grown back very long it was down to her waist. She was roughly now only about thirteen. She had become very close to her twin brother but she did not return his deep feelings for her. She felt sense they were siblings it would be very wrong for them to emotionally care for each other as she accidently did before the truth was known. This took a heavy toll on her heart. She was paired off with another young man a prince to the other kingdom. The reason for this was to help stop the war. The problem was it did not stop it and would not till the marriage took place but even then she feared the war would continue sense her twin brother held lustful feelings toward her. Her light brown hair was tied back with a gold hair tie. She had on a white dress that which would like from the renaissance time period and around the middle a golden sash. She also had on a golden crown and golden wrist bands. It was clear she was royalty. It was hard for her to get used to such a life style. She would often travel secretly which was a heavy mistake on her part. Under her was a large volcano. It was very hot you could see the yellow, red and orange color to it. There was a brown broken up bridge as well. There were some men that spotted her. One of the men unluckily for her had black wings he pushed her down and she hit the volcano hard. She took out her dagger and pushed it at the man’s wings. The man pushed the girl’s wrist roughly and you could hear a snap. “Well, look what we have here, a little princess all by herself, boys let’s have some fun with her what do you say” the man said with a very dark smile. Then her twin brother came and so did the man she was to marry one day. Serenity’s eyes were filled with tears. Xion was upset that the man who marries his twin sister would stop the violence he wanted to save his sister to prove his love to her. Serenity ran to her brother’s side. Her brother looked at her sadly and she put her head down. Xion would dare not tell his twin sister about the elf girl he recently meets who made him very happy. The poor so close yet so far. In any case the man she was to marry told Xion to take his twin sister home. The two did not dare talk to one another because they knew how they felt. Xion kissed Serenity roughly. Serenity blushed a deep red she could fill her heart beat she could not fight how she felt. The two started to be very passionate toward one another. Then Odin walked into his room his face filled with anger as he broke the two up. “Xion, do not ever touch your sister that way again, and Serenity I want you to start Valkery training first thing in the morning.” Serenity cried once Odin and Xion left the room it would be one of the last times she would cry she was very confused and deeply hurt.  To be contined….

Her optimism is to blame.

Like the glint in the eye of a charmer who
At first glance promises you the world and you,
Willingly, go with him
Believing the world will be yours,
Only to find him a liar
And the world doesn’t need you.

The heavy eggshell blue drapes in his bedroom  hadn’t been drawn for six days, not that Alexi Tyler would have cared in the least bit. What did he care about the outside world when he had the rich decadence of his celluloid closet to lose himself in for hours on end. What good is a resort town out of season compared to the allure of old Hollywood? Besides, if he wanted to know the dish about the comings and goings of Weeping Water he needn’t but press his ear to the floor vent of his den and listen to his mother, Cassandra, prattle off the latest gossip as easily as he would have rattled off his summer plans to his best mate Hemi Jacoba had Alexi still lived in London and not moved to Weeping Water winter before last when his father’s at-one-time-red 1990 Sedan with the too bald tyres had hit a patch of ice as he entered (place where Princess Diana died) sending him careening towards the (Wall where PD died).

As he recited the lines from Singing in the Rain from memory with half his usual passsion, Alexi couldn’t shake off the thought that school would be resuming in three days and he hated Mansfield Academe for boys. Sure he recieved fairly decent marks in his courses; he even got top marks in AS-level French and he had Madame Ironwald, the strictest professor at Mansfield. It was the students that he couldn’t stand, in particular Football Captian Ianto Davies. Whenever Alexi wasn’t thinking about how much Ianto and his Jock Clones made his life a living hell he was locked away, either in his den or in his room, wanking off to the picture that Alexi had taken of Ianto, as part of the profile he had to do last term for his Journlism final, that he kept under lock and key in the top right hand drawer of his desk. The photo was an action shot were the sun glistened off a sweat dripping Ianto making him glow like the angel that Alexi believed him to be, the tramontana wind whipped his train of copper hair out behind him, and his emerald eyes smiled blazingly with the glee of victory for he had just headed the ball into the net winning the championship match against Mansfield’s archrival, Kinsington Hall.

In his mind he was Kathy Selden and Ianto was Don lockwood.

‘Is it alright for you to be seen publicly with me? … For lunch, don’t you usually tear a pheasent with Miss Lamont,’ Alexi imagined himself saying to Ianto and Ianto replied ‘All that stuff about Lina and me is sheer publisity.’

A sharp rap on the door of the den startled Alexi back form the airy world of his daydream to cold hard reality with all the force of a Hitchcock film. Groping aroung him as if he were in a daze – the image of a love sick girl clinging in vain to the beefy thigh of the man she loves who is leaving her for another woman flitted across him mind’s eye and he shook the image out of his head like water from the ears – for the romote for the VCR and upon finding it mashed the pause button with enough force to turn the shell-pink skin under his thumb nail eggshell white.

‘Yes, Mum,’ Alexi croaked and made no attempt to hide the annoyance that clung to his effeminate tenor like molten polyester.

‘Ugh. I told you time and again not to call me that horrid word,’ Cassandra mused half-heartedly.

‘What do you want, Cassandra?’

‘I want you and Ashlie to clean out the attic.’

‘Ashlie isn’t here.’

‘Open the window. He’ll be along in five.’

‘Saw him coming, did you?’

‘No, I phoned. You know, technology has advanced out of the stone age since last you crawled out of your hovel. You no longer have to trek all the way across the wilderness to converse with someone. You just pick up the phone and have at it.’

‘And I said you had no sence of humour.’

‘Your wit cirtainly didn’t come from that forrest-in-the-mud lawyer you liked to call father. Now, gettup and go open that window. Oh, and don’t you even think about tossing out that shoe box.’

‘Sure, now you use your gift, Mum.’

Alexi rose from the plush comfort of his movie watching chair, crossed the room in two quick strides to the faux oaken paneled wall that had seconds before been behind him, and removed to panels that seperated his den from his room. He danced, slew footed as a fox atb hunt, across his bedroom to the window and drew open the drapes. He pulled open the heavy window frame and stuck his head out. The foehn wind snaked through his mane of raven-black hair and just before he ducked his head back inside his eyes caught sight of the weathered silver ladder, Ashlie’s ladder, just below the windowsill. As his memories of his first meeting with Ashlie flooded to Alexi’s mind his pallid cheaks flushed vermilion and the balmy summer sun warmed his exposed skin.

Alexi and Cassandra had just gotten home from enrolling Alexi in Mansfield. The process of putting on the pretence of gaiety had drained him more then he cared to admit to himself and all he wanted was to wind down from the days frivolities and curl up in his den with Rebecca and the trappings of a good movie. When he entered his room Alexi couldn’t shake the feeling that something was not qiute right there. A cold breeze blew through the wispy viridian drapes and as he brisky ran to close the window he racked his brain trying to remember if he had closed the window or not. When he arrived at the window he was all of a sudden possessed of a fancyful need to look down and when he did so he saw the ladder. 

‘Someone has been here,’ Alexi hissed through his teath to himself. At first he was of the mind that it was Hemi. Hemi always used to sneak into Alexi’s room throught the window on nights when his pearents would argue about whatever they argued about. On those nights, Alexi would stay up most of the night rocking Hemi in his arms like a baby.

‘Soon I will take you away from  Mark and Sybil and their idoitic spats and we can live in Paris amongst the writers and artists,’ Alexi would whisper in Hemi’s ear.

  ‘And nothing will ever keep us apart,’ Hemi would reply in a voice thick with the euphoria of a dream.

‘It will be the two of us against that world.’ Alexi had shook the memories from his mind and went to his den. That was were he found Ashile. A light snore excaped from his cerise tinted lips and a shiver rippled across his smooth wan face. Alexi took the downy blaket off the back of his movie watching chair and enshrouded Ahslie’s thin frame in it.

‘So, I was right,’ Alexi mutter to himself under his breath, ‘Some is here.’ Ashlie awoke with a start and looked around ferally as he gathered his bearings before he wheezed almost inaudibly ‘Please don’t let them get me.’

‘Of course, I won’t. It would help if I knew what them you’re talking about,’ Alexi mumbled. He never mumbled unless he was nervous, which he was. ‘I’m Alexi Tyler, by the way.’

‘Ashlie Cooper.’

‘Tough day at home, mate?’

‘You could say that.’ As Alexi was about to ask for sepcifics There was a sharp knock on the door.

‘Alexi are you alright in there,’ Cassandra spoke thorught the door. Her voice thick with worry.

‘Yeah, I’m fine Cassandra.’

‘Ashlie, I want to have a word with you downstairs in five minutes,’ She barked.

‘How does she know my name. And for that matter, how does she know that I am here?’

‘My mum can sometime see the future. Don’t worry, she doesn’t bit much.’ Ashlie shivered again. ‘You look cold. I think I have something that you can fit,’ Alexi hummed as he flitted out of the den to his dresser and pulled out a lincoln green sweater and plaid jumper and retuened to the den. ‘These should fit you quite nicely and the sweater matches your eyes.’

‘If your mother can see the future, what can you do,’ Ashlie said as he took the sweater from Alexi. When he raised his arm to pull the sweater over his head the thin t-shirt he was wearing rode up enough for Alexi to see that a train of eggplant purple bruses danced across his torso.

‘It’s best not to keep Cassandra waiting.’

‘I believe you wanted to speak with me Mrs. Tyler,’ Ashlie timpidly uttered as he entered to warmth of the kitchen with Alexi hot on his heels. His face lit up at the smell of hot chocolate and fresh backed brownies.

‘I’ll have none for that Mrs. Tyler nonsence. Do you hear me Mr. Cooper? If you are going to be living here please call my Cassandra.’

‘What? You’re going to let me stay?’

‘A young man doesn’t run away from home without a rhyme or a reason. Would you care for a brownie?’

‘Penny for you thoughts,’ Ashlie said as he came thought the window.

‘Just thinking about the first time we met.’

‘We should get started on the attic don’t you think, mate?’

‘Ok, allons-y.’

In an hour Alexi and Ashlie had all the cobwebs and dust and almost all of the detritus in the attic cleared out. Alexi was sweeping over in the far right corner when Ashlie tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Look at this,’ Ashlie said enthusiasticly as he shoved a thin pillar-box red shoe box in Alexi’s face.

‘For me? Why you shouldn’t have,’ Alexi crooned sarcastically.

‘I know. Now, open it,’ Ashlie zinged back.

‘Aw, poor thing,’ Alexi said as he shook his head sadly. In the box was a small round-headed taupe feathered tawny owl. It was impaled throught its chest by a thick peice of wood. Alexi removed the peice of wood and tossed it in the bag that he had been sweeping the trash into.

‘Maybe we should give her a proper burial,’ Ashlie remarked when he saw Alexi’s face.

‘Ok, We’ll bury him after we finnish up here,’ Alexi said glumly.

‘There isn’t much left to do here. Why don’t you go bury our little friend there and I’ll finnish up here.’

‘Oh, thank you Ash,’ Alexi buzzed with renewed energy as he jumped up and pulled Ashlie into a rough bear hug. ‘I love you so much right now. I could so kiss you right,’ Alexi buzzed as he was half out of the attic.

‘If only,’ Ashlie mused under his breath.

‘Did you say something,’ Alexi chimed over his shoulder.

‘I’ll be down when I finnish up here.’

Tell us about yourself first. 

I graduated high school in 1948 and enlisted in the army for three years. 

Next I went to college majoring in English Literature. I later earned a 

master’s degree and a doctorate in clinical social work. For thirty years I was

a faculty member at a local university in Philadelphia and served as a 

tenured professor. Upon retiring I returned to school and completed an MA  in creative writing.

I work out in the gym three days a week. I love reading, writing, films,  

classical music, and my two cats, Bandit and The Kid. Oh, and there are also some humans I love amongst my friends and family, but I enjoy solitude          

much of the time.

When did you start writing?

I began writing in college where I wrote several one-act plays, which were published in the school’s literary journal. Two of them were performed on the college stage. While in academia I started writing non-fiction related to my professional work. Once in the creative writing program I started writing short stories and began my novel there.

What genres have you written? 

I’ve written both fiction and non-fiction. The latter is clinical-scholarly in nature, the former mainstream drama.

Is Silent Battlefields your first book?

No, it is my seventh, but it is my first novel.

Tell us about your first book. What is it about?

It is about the Holocaust and its aftermath almost three decades later on two families. One family is that of parents who are survivors with a young adult son. The other is a gentile family with a husband who was once a Hitler Youth and German soldier. It also has a young adult son. When members of both families begin to meet and interact, startling revelations surface and unexpected relationships develop.

What inspired you to write this book?

I have a friend who is the adult son of Holocaust survivors. He has frequently told me of the effect it had on his parents, as well as on himself. I thought this could be the nucleus of a good story, although I had no idea then how much more complex the plot would become.  That emerged during the actual writing process.

How long did it take you to write it?

It took four years to complete, but the actual writing time in years was two-and-a-half, since I took time out to participate as a volunteer in teaching “English as a second language” to immigrants in the United States. 

Who is the publisher of your book?

 The publisher is iUniverse.

Tell us about your other books/works.

The subjects of my other books are cognitive development, moral reasoning, psychotherapy, and constructivism. Three of the books I am the sole author of, two of them were published by Columbia University Press and the other three I co-edited with a chapter I wrote in each of those three. I have also contributed chapters to other people’s edited books. In addition I co-edited a special issue for an international journal on cognitive therapy. The title of that special issue was entitled, “Creativity in the Context of cognitive therapy.”

What are the major challenges you have faced in your career?

Speaking generally, I was well suited for my career as a professor, educational administrator, and academic writer, all of which I did for thirty years. Things moved quickly and progressively for me and there were no major roadblocks. My major challenge came when I shifted to the creative writing program upon retiring, as then I had to learn to give more free rein to my imagination and transition to a fiction writer from a non-fiction academic writer. The modes of both styles differ considerably.

Has the Internet helped you in your writing career?

Yes. The newsletters for authors have proven to be very informative and useful. The Internet offers a great venue through which to promote my novel.

What do you advise new writers to do?

Don’t strive for perfection in the first draft. Give free play to your imagination. Persevere and keep writing. Ideas will come to you in the process. Revise later. Read books on writing and a variety of fiction. Find an objective reader who will give you honest feedback. In the end, trust your own judgment. Know the rules of your craft, but break them if it’s in the best interest of your story. Expect rejection letters, don’t give up, and have faith in yourself. Creating a world of your own making is an enriching experience.

Life used to be simpler before I learned how it all flowed together.  I was young and arrogant. Full of dreams, but lacking in follow through. I didn’t like where I was in my life, or where I was headed. I guess you could say that is typical for a young man of 17 who had just finished High School not long before, though only barely. I was built like a wall back then. Standing 5’ 11” with pound upon pound of useless muscle that got me nowhere. I used to joke that my biceps had biceps. It was funny to me at the time. I had the ambition to play professional football. To be rich and famous. Obviously, that would not be the case. I barely even finished high school. I was the bottom of my class. I had no sports scholarships, because my grades were too bad to actually be able to play any sports. My coaches lobbied hard with the school to let me play, and when that failed, tried to get me to study to get my grades up. I hated school, and I hated to study, so not only did I lose the chance at sports scholarships, I also lost the academic ones as well.

I wasn’t dumb, just lazy. In fact I knew an awful lot. I was quite smart, and my teachers thought so too. I just never put any effort in. As such, I defeated any chance of getting out of that town to see the world, sans military service. My father ruined that option for me when he chose his commitment to the service of his country over his wife and child when I was 8. We never heard from him again.

So I was stuck in that lame town, with lame people, in lame Idaho. Stuck doing a boring job, packing boring meat at a boring meat packing plant. Stuck doing the same thing everyday, with no excitement, for the rest of my life. I couldn’t take that. I didn’t want that. I wouldn’t have that. I had to find something. Some way to get out. To see the world the way I had hoped and dreamed as a child. But I had no drive. No energy to do anything but my daily grind. The only thing that kept me from going crazy was that boring routine, though. If I had any time to sit and think, I would have probably ripped my hair out back then. I needed a change, and I needed someone to pull me away from that routine for some respite. If only for a little while. 

It was during that routine on a typical day when that someone showed up. I had just gotten off of work and, as always, decided to stop at the Subway heading into my hometown to grab a bite to eat. It was a toasty summer day. One that you can really appreciate air conditioning for. August was always the time of year for the heat. It was time for swimming and cliff diving and anything else you could possibly do to cool off. For me, it was just another hot day. I stepped into the shop and a blast of cool air hit me. It felt really good after a hard day’s work. As I stepped up to the counter, I heard the door to the shop ding open. I didn’t need to look back, because the moment the door was opened, words flowed out of his mouth. I already knew who it was.

“Hey, Goldy Locks, guess who?”  I had heard that a million times. That was Chase!

“God dammit, you redskin! I told you not to call me such racist names!” I exclaimed in mock anger.

“ Then what am I supposed to call you? Toehead? Meathead? Hick, perhaps?”

“ You can call me hick only if I can call you Penis Pump you dirty homo!”

Chase was My very best friend. We always made fun of each other, it was like a term of endearment to us. He loved to joke around about my super blond hair and how I was an Arian. I liked to joke around about his sexuality mostly. People weren’t very accepting about his sexuality around those parts back then, and probably just barely even now. Gay people still had a horrible stigma about them. 

Chase and I grew up together. We did everything together when we were younger. Inseparable, most people would say. When I finally learned he was gay, I really didn’t care at all. He was the closest thing I had to a brother, and I would never betray that connection. When he finally told me, I smacked him in the back of the head and said I already knew. He told me that he was shocked that I didn’t care. I told him that I was shocked that he would think I would. You couldn’t even tell he was gay until he got drunk and started hitting on you, which came as quite a great surprise to some former acquaintances at a house party a few years prior.

He was certainly a handsome man. Standing at eye level with me, with his puppy brown eyes always staring at me. His puffy, dark brown hair made him look taller than me, but I would always joke that he could keep the height, cause I had the looks. His features were quite solid and intriguing. You could easily distinguish the Shoshone that was half his blood from his skin color, his thin, but well stacked build, and his love of Sacagawea. He was very proud of that heritage and loved to call himself Newe, which I never asked why. I always made fun of him and said his Indian name should be “Walks With a Pimp.” I thought I was the best looking thing back then. Like I said, I was arrogant.

“Fair enough, Sterling, Sir!” Chase said with humor and a chuckle in his voice.

“So what do you want?” I asked as I walked up to him, a giant smile on my face. We hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. Unlike me, Chase had actually applied himself in school and earned a full scholarship to Boise State. He was very smart, and was the Valedictorian of our graduating class, much to the discomfort of almost everyone in attendance. He had left just before graduation to start the summer semester. He wanted to finish college fast and move on with his life. I can’t remember what he decided to major in, but I am absolutely certain it had something to do with brains! 

“Nothing from you. You’re more like a side note in my amazingly awesome life story!” he exclaimed with mock disgust. I couldn’t help but laugh as I reached him, grabbed his extended hand and pulled him in for a hug. It was really heart warming to see him again. I missed our back and fourth a lot.

“oh man, it’s great to see you again bro. It’s been quite a while.” I stated. Just seeing him again brought happiness flooding back into my life. I didn’t keep very many friends. Mostly because most people wouldn’t accept me being friends with a gay man. To each his own, I guess, but annoying nonetheless. Everyone like that is just an ignorant fool in my eyes.

“And you as well, Ster. I’ve certainly missed you a lot.” Chase said as we released our embrace. “it’s been quite a while indeed. I have so much to tell you!”

“ You sound like a gay man, talking like that Chi. You stop that right now!” I exclaimed in jest. As I looked at him, I noticed movement to my left. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice that there was someone else there with us.

As I looked over, Chase’s eyes followed mine. When they reached the man to his right, his eyes glistened, and his smile widened. I knew in a moment that this person in front of me was the subject of  Chase’s adoration. I had never seen his face so bright when looking at someone else. This man was his lover. His partner.

“Sterling, I would like you to meet my boyfriend, Kent. Kent, This is my closest friend, you might say brother, Sterling.” Chase said.

“Wow, This is certainly something new to me!” I exclaimed. “It’s really an honor to meet you, Kent. I apologize if our verbal spar offended you in any way.” I said with sincerity. The last thing I wanted was to make Kent feel uncomfortable. This was my best friends lover! The first that he had ever introduced me to. That meant that he was very important to him.

Kent began to laugh. “ Not offended at all, Sterling. The pleasure is mine. For as long as I’ve known Chase, he has always had the same derogatory humor as you have both demonstrated just now. I actually find it quite endearing.” Kent seemed very happy indeed. At that point, I could see why Chase went after him in the first place. He was also a handsome looking man. As he stood next to Chase, He was shoulder height to him, so probably around 5’ 7” or  5’ 8”. He had bright blue eyes, much like my own, but his skin was a milky brown. He looked middle eastern in origin, but of course I couldn’t be sure. That would be made clear soon enough. He was of a fair build, but carried himself with much pride in his heart.

“That’s good to hear.” I said relieved. “ Well, it’s nice to meet you again, Kent. So what brings you guys to such a dreary Subway in backwoods Buhl?” I asked, not hiding my animosity towards the town.

“We’re obviously getting something to eat, same as you.” Kent jumped in, joining in on the back and fourth. I had a feeling that he was going to be fun to be around. I laughed heartily. I couldn’t help but feel happy to be here at this point in time. It was a nice change of pace from my dreary life since Chase had left for school. I wanted to enjoy it as long as I possibly could.

We all made and paid for our sandwiches. All the while being mad dogged by the staff behind the counter. I guess they still couldn’t accept it. The shop was empty as we sat down to eat. We caught up on our lives over the past few months. I had nothing interesting to say, as I had been doing the exact same thing I was doing when we graduated. Chase and Kent, on the other hand, had much to say. They talked about College, and the dorm rooms, and the boys. They talked about the parties and the women. They had a lot they had to let me know about. A lot that I wanted to know. I felt a pang of jealousy as they talked. I wished I had applied myself.

Then they got into how they met. It was interesting to me. Chase and Kent had both decided to sign up for a camping trip that ended up getting canceled only moments after Chase signed up. I thought, of course, because they didn’t want gay guys to go camping with other people. Because gay guys had no control of their own sexuality, right? I was kind of fuming when I heard this, But I was mistaken. It turned out that that guy who was funding the trip had just recently been in a car accident, and so the funds were withdrawn to care for him in the hospital. This is where Chase and Kent got involved. They decided to organize the trip themselves, and got to know each other very well.

“We are now almost ready to go. The only thing there is left to organize is you.” Chase said.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked. “I can’t go anywhere man, I’m broke. I’d probably be fired if I went anywhere.” I felt bad. I really wanted to go, but I couldn’t lose my job.

“Well, then it’s a good thing I already asked your boss then isn’t it?”

I looked at him with amazement and hope.

“He told me you needed the break and to get you the hell out of here for a bit. Paid vacation, Ster. You can’t say no.”

“What?” I asked in shock. Was this really happening to me?

Chase laughed. “Man, I can read your face like you wrote your thoughts on a piece of paper. Yes, Ster. This is really happening. We are going to Anderson Ranch Reservoir for a ten day binge party in the boonies. You, Kent, Myself, and thirty more of our college mates.” Then Chase picked up a teasing tone. “A few of the women are quite sexy as well, bro. I could probably get you laid, if you wanted. You could consider it your 18th birthday present from me.”

Then it was my turn to laugh. I was a handsome looking man, so it was quite easy for me to pick up my own women. Then again, the wing man I had missed for a while was offering a lot of fun. I couldn’t refuse time with him. With women who weren’t just dimwitted or boring or both. “fine, fine. When are we heading out?”

“Now Fool!” Chase and Kent both exclaimed in unison.

“We’re here to pick you up and get the hell out of dodge.” Chase said. Wow. Ten days. This was a break I was only dreaming of. Even though we were going deeper into the heart of the state I couldn’t stand, it was good. I was with good friends.

We finished up our meals and headed out of the shop. As we walked out of the shop, slinging words jokingly at each other, I noticed a group of guys crowded around my F150. If I was going to live country, I was going to drive country as well. As they noticed us coming out of the shop, they started heading our way. Dear god, I thought. Don’t tell me…

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the homo lover and his little fag pet.” One of the guys said. As I got a better look, I recognized Jason. He was a heavily built guy, much like myself. He had gone to high school with Chase and I, and was our biggest bane while we were there. He was rude, abrasive, and always looking to cause problems for us. He had obviously made a nobody out of himself, much like I had. With him were seven other men, all wearing cowboy hats and holding something meant to cause damage…or pain. This was a very bad situation to be in. I had to do something.

“What the hell do you want Jason? You aren’t seriously thinking of doing this in broad daylight are you? In a public place?” Maybe I could diffuse the coming situation?

“Thinking is long past, fag friend. I’ve been thinking of killing you two for years now. No. Not thinking anymore. Now it’s going to happen. You two are a disgrace to this town.” Then Jason noticed Kent standing there next to Chase. “ It seems we get to get rid of another pretty boy as well today boys. What a catch!” Jason exclaimed. All of the men he was with began to laugh. In Jason’s hand, I could see a bottle of Vodka. He was drunk. He meant to kill Chase and Kent. He meant to kill me. My mind was beginning to spin out of control. What do I do?

“Kill us?” I asked with a tinge of a high pitched voice present as well. “ Here? The cops are going to be all over your ass, man. You don’t want to go to prison for murder, do you?” What was I doing? Jason was always thickheaded. He was also drunk. I wouldn’t be able to just talk him out of it. This was going to get physical. Chase and I had our fair share of fights growing up. He was gay, and I was his friend. Obviously, that was cause for hatred. This was different. This wasn’t a schoolyard scuffle. I really felt that Jason and those other men meant to kill us. I started to hear ringing in my ears and my heart started beating faster. I could almost feel the adrenaline pumping into my blood. There was also something there that I had never felt before. I was frightened.

“The cops won’t do shit if I just kill a few faggots” Jason said with certainty. They began to close in. This was like a bad movie. Back and fourth with the bad guy, as his henchmen surrounded us. I would never before have imagined this all actually happening in real life. Just then, I noticed that neither Chase, nor Kent had said a word. I when I looked to my right, I saw two completely different faces. I still wonder which one of those faces mine was most like at the time. Kent was pale, His eyes wide, and his fists were clenched tight. He was scared, but seemed he had dealt with a life much the same as Chase had. Always being hassled by rude, ignorant people. He was ready for a fight. Chase looked much more intimidating. His eyes were squinted, his jaw clenched. I even thought I could feel his anger emanating from him like a cloud. It was heavy and hateful. Chase was ready to kill someone today.

What could we do? Three against eight was certainly not a fair fight. The men were all stout. They also seemed drunk. Drunk people feel less pain, and hit much harder. But on the upside, they were also clumsy and slow in both mind and body. Maybe I could do something with that. But, I couldn’t think. This was just all beyond my comprehension. I started to feel a terrible pressure in my brain. It hurt. A lot.

I dropped to my knees in pain and opened my mouth to scream, but I couldn’t hear myself. The ringing in my ears had become deafening and I could hear my heart beat like a drum. Then I felt someone grab my shoulder. As I looked, I saw Chase trying to say something to me. I could see fear in his eyes now, but still felt his anger. He was worried. Truly a good friend . Then everything tinged red. Oh god, I thought I was going to die. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t let my friend die without doing something to save him. I had to help him somehow. Then I saw chase look to his right and turn around. He stood between me and the men. They were all still coming closer.

The ringing in my ears then slowly changed to humming. It sounded like my mother’s humming. It matched the drum beat of my heart and seemed to take on a tune. The pressure in my head dissipated, but I still couldn’t hear anything except the tune forming in my head. As I stood up, I looked around to assess where the situation had gone. It felt like slow motion. Like I had all the time in the world to study it and work it to my advantage. Chase and Kent were in front of me. Protecting me. 

The men had spread out like a crescent moon edging closer and closer for the attack. Two of the men to my left and one to my right had aluminum baseball bats. The other to my left had a 2×4. The other two on the right had crowbars in hand. I could have sworn they all went out to buy these things just for this occasion. No matter what happened, this was going to be a very painful fight. I couldn’t see what Jason or the other man had made makeshift weapons out of. I could only imagine something blunt and heavy. They were blocked from my sight by Chase and Kent. 

Just then, I saw a glint of shiny steel to my left. As I looked, I saw that the guy with the 2×4 had decided that a fat, crocodile Dundee knife was going to do more damage than his 2×4. My red tinged vision cleared instantly. I had no chance to think for myself anymore. My mind decided to do it all for me. I had no part in it and couldn’t consciously think of anything. I was going to destroy these men. They had threatened my best friend. They had threatened the man he loved. They had threatened me. These men weren’t leaving this parking lot walking.

I had lost all control of my actions.

Dear Diary

If I do my best I can with my little brother Tjalling buy a dog. I’m really looking forward to it. It was always my dream. I am very nervous.

Love Mignon

She said very little because she was a little diary. That evening after supper had Tjalling to bed. Tjalling should rather because Tjalling and Mignon was 8 years was 10. The next day was the day! They could buy a puppy. Tjalling saw a nice golden retriever that he bought. Which is called Bark. Mignon came across a funny Chihuahua. Do Mignon bought. Mignon who called Chicha. And she played with both wearing their dear dog. First they went buy some food and toys. they went home. Chicha Migonon gave her a bone. Tjalling Bark gave his sweetie a toy. That night the dogs were allowed on the beds of children. And that was it.

END