Literary works are automatically protected for the author by national and international copyright laws
All rights are reserved by the author, Norman D. W. MacDonald, for any literary works posted on this Blog site.
Norm's ebooks are published by Echo Dawn Media.
Copyright infringement is taken very seriously by the courts and can result in stiff penalties.
A recent case of copyright infringement December 17, 2009
"A Chinese female writer accusing Google China of copyright infringement has filed a lawsuit against the company in a Beijing court.
Mian Mian, a well-known Shanghai-based novelist, said the Haidian District People's Court is scheduled to hold a hearing on the case on Dec 29.
"Google earlier argued that they didn't violate copyright law as they only displayed a small amount of text of my book, but I think their move has seriously hurt Chinese writers' rights," Mian Mian told China Daily yesterday.
Mian said Google scanned her entire novel, titled Acid Lover, published by the Shanghai Joint Publishing Company, without notifying her or paying her for copyright permission.
Google China deleted Mian's Acid Lover from their website on Nov 15."
(Source: China Daily December 16)
Thursday, December 31, 2009
The Barkerville Bank Robbery
I have just finished entering my hand-written notes into the computer.
This fiction short story is done except for the editing and rewrites.
I like the way it turned out and hope you will too.
I will post Chapter 3 after I go over it.
Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 were posted earlier, please see the Blog Archive list on the right.
This fiction short story is done except for the editing and rewrites.
I like the way it turned out and hope you will too.
I will post Chapter 3 after I go over it.
Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 were posted earlier, please see the Blog Archive list on the right.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Writing is new to me
I am retired from a long career in nursing.
Writing is a significant stretch for me. I got 29% in English in Grade 12 and failed to graduate. I later took night classes to upgrade my schooling for entering nursing school.
I had great difficulty stringing even a few words together. Essays and paragraphs were foreign to me. Poetry a total loss, though I did write one good poem, which I have subsequently lost.
I had to write nursing notes on patient charts, but they are not even close to literary writing.
So here I am determined to forge a writing career. If I never become famous, I tried, at least.
At the very least, it keeps me busy. The works I have planned will take a few years to complete.
Will I succeed? Who knows?
Someone once said that "All journeys start with the first step".
You can follow my steps on this blog.
Writing is a significant stretch for me. I got 29% in English in Grade 12 and failed to graduate. I later took night classes to upgrade my schooling for entering nursing school.
I had great difficulty stringing even a few words together. Essays and paragraphs were foreign to me. Poetry a total loss, though I did write one good poem, which I have subsequently lost.
I had to write nursing notes on patient charts, but they are not even close to literary writing.
So here I am determined to forge a writing career. If I never become famous, I tried, at least.
At the very least, it keeps me busy. The works I have planned will take a few years to complete.
Will I succeed? Who knows?
Someone once said that "All journeys start with the first step".
You can follow my steps on this blog.
The Cornelia Barkman Murders - Note
I plan on resuming intensive writing of "The Cornelia Barkman Murders" in late January. I have some things to do the first two weeks of January.
I have around 112 pages, about 35,000 words, written.
This is the fictional story of a young lady who becomes the first female police officer in Nelson, BC. She goes on to become the police service's lone detective.
Cornelia faces many challenges in the "man's world."
Her career is halted prematurely by a single incident.
I have around 112 pages, about 35,000 words, written.
This is the fictional story of a young lady who becomes the first female police officer in Nelson, BC. She goes on to become the police service's lone detective.
Cornelia faces many challenges in the "man's world."
Her career is halted prematurely by a single incident.
The Barkerville Bank Robbery
THE BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY
A Cornelia Barkman Case File – Case #0001
This short story takes place in 1991 about 21 years after the book "The Cornelia Barkman Murders", which is still being written.
It is the first of many planned case files.
A Cornelia Barkman Case File – Case #0001
This short story takes place in 1991 about 21 years after the book "The Cornelia Barkman Murders", which is still being written.
It is the first of many planned case files.
The Barkerville Bank Robbery - Chapter 2
This is from another of my fictional works.
It is protected by Author Copyright.
It is offered for your reading enjoyment though it is not a polished finished work. There is still more work to do in grammar and structure. I am getting better the more I write.
Chapter 1 was posted earlier.
THE BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY
A Cornelia Barkman Case File – Case #0001
The Barkerville Bank Robbery
Chapter 2
I had just returned to my easy chair after putting my two-year old, Jenny, done for a nap. I picked up the Nelson Express dated Wednesday August 7, 1991and there it was in large bold type on the front page.
“BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY”
My curiosity was piqued and I read the story with great interest. Barkerville is living museum, a ghost town, in north central BC. Who would rob its bank? Or, anything for that matter? And, what for? I had to find out.
Here is the gist of the article that is in my file:
A daring mid-day ‘old west’ style robbery happened in Barkerville yesterday. Six bold masked men commandeered the museum’s horse-drawn freight wagon and stole the safe from the old Government Assay Office, commonly known as ‘the bank’. The men wore period costumes and had hankerchiefs covering their faces.
Visitors to the museum town explained that they saw the freight wagon come around the corner by the music hall and stop in front of the white Government Assay Office. The driver and his partner jumped off of the wagon and dropped the tailgate. Four more masked men hopped out and they all into the assay office with guns out. The visitors inside the office were chased out. They gathered across the street and were joined by other visitors. They watched through the windows as the men broke through the irons bars and went to the safe. They watched as the men tipped over the large safe onto a blanket and dragged out of the office. The safe was dragged up the sloping tailgate and into the freight wagon. Two of the men closed the tailgate with the safe and four men inside the wagon.
The two other men climbed up on the wagon seat. The driver urged the horses into a run while the other man fired his gun into the air. The gunfire had the effect of clearing the street ahead of the rushing wagon. The wagon soon disappeared into a cloud of dust. The crowd cheered and applauded thinking it was one of the street performance put on by the museum’s staff. The crowd milled about talking about the surprise performance. Some commented on how realistic it was.
Marcy a ticket seller at the entrance said she heard the gunfire and turned to see the horses pulling the bright red freight wagon gallop past the Church and then turn right in a cloud of dust. She was confused because the wagon was never to be at more than a walk. She heard the gunfire out front and looked to see the horses galloping away down the road. Behind her, she could hear the crowd of visitors cheering and applauding. She looked towards the site office and saw The site manager, George, come out of his office and look out the service gate. He looked confused and rubbed his balding head.
George continued the story. He was at his desk when he heard the clinking of harness and galloping horses rush by through the service gate. He ran out of the office to see the wagon racing down the road and thought the horses had bolted. George knew wagon driver could handle the team so he was not worried. The driver would be back when he settled the horses.
Before he could go back to his office, a staff member rushed up to him with the fantastic tale of the robbery. George was stunned. He looked down the road and could not see the wagon.
As unbelievable the story seemed, George called the RCMP office in Wells. At first, the officer thought his call was a hoax. It took a couple of minutes for his story to be taken seriously but the officer still chucked as he said he would send a unit out.
By the time the police car arrived, George had a good idea of what had happened. As he was telling the smiling officer what happened, they heard shouts coming from the stable. The police officer followed him as he rushed to the stable. They had to make their way through curious onlookers that had gathered as well. When they arrived, the hostler was moving hay bales and gear.
“They’re in here,” the hostler shouted.
The wagon driver and his young assistant were found blindfolded, gagged, and tied up. They were freed and had no injuries. They told George and officer that they were ready to make their usual run through Barkerville when masked men accosted them. They were unable to give a good description due to the masks and the period clothing.
George led the officer to the assay office to look at the crime scene. The iron-gate was breeched and the safe was missing. A small crowd of visitors appeared on the boardwalk outside as word spread quickly that it really was a real robbery and a police officer in attendance. One of the street performers told them that some visitors chased out of the assay office by gunpoint. Those visitors became distressed when they heard that the robbery was real and were at the House Hotel being comforted. After looking over the office, the officer told George to lock the place and not let anybody in until the investigators were finished.
At the House Hotel, the officer questioned the visitors. They were in shock and admitted that they thought it was all part of the show. All they could say was that the men were masked and in western dress. Out on the boardwalk, George and the officer listened as other visitors told what they knew. None could can to the description of the robbers already given. The whole event happened in less than ten minutes. They all said they thought the robbery was part of the street performances.
George ordered the gates closed and no one was to leave until they spoke with a police officer. The officer radioed for other officers to attend and requested some more to be sent out from Quesnel.
When the other police officers arrived, they were instructed to take statements from the witnesses. The first officer and George went out in the police cruiser to have a look around on the forestry roads around Barkerville but did find anything.
I watched the television news at six o’clock to see if there was any new information or if anything else was uncovered.
An RCMP officer shared what the police knew about the case. He finished by surmising that the robbers had a hidden vehicle in the forest and transferred the safe to it, then left the area unseen. The horses and the wagon, minus the safe, were found in the forest a few miles from Barkerville. The horses were unhurt and the wagon undamaged, both were returned to Barkerville. The officer appealed to the public for help.
After weeks of fruitless investigation, the police investigation stalled.
It is protected by Author Copyright.
It is offered for your reading enjoyment though it is not a polished finished work. There is still more work to do in grammar and structure. I am getting better the more I write.
Chapter 1 was posted earlier.
THE BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY
A Cornelia Barkman Case File – Case #0001
The Barkerville Bank Robbery
Chapter 2
I had just returned to my easy chair after putting my two-year old, Jenny, done for a nap. I picked up the Nelson Express dated Wednesday August 7, 1991and there it was in large bold type on the front page.
“BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY”
My curiosity was piqued and I read the story with great interest. Barkerville is living museum, a ghost town, in north central BC. Who would rob its bank? Or, anything for that matter? And, what for? I had to find out.
Here is the gist of the article that is in my file:
A daring mid-day ‘old west’ style robbery happened in Barkerville yesterday. Six bold masked men commandeered the museum’s horse-drawn freight wagon and stole the safe from the old Government Assay Office, commonly known as ‘the bank’. The men wore period costumes and had hankerchiefs covering their faces.
Visitors to the museum town explained that they saw the freight wagon come around the corner by the music hall and stop in front of the white Government Assay Office. The driver and his partner jumped off of the wagon and dropped the tailgate. Four more masked men hopped out and they all into the assay office with guns out. The visitors inside the office were chased out. They gathered across the street and were joined by other visitors. They watched through the windows as the men broke through the irons bars and went to the safe. They watched as the men tipped over the large safe onto a blanket and dragged out of the office. The safe was dragged up the sloping tailgate and into the freight wagon. Two of the men closed the tailgate with the safe and four men inside the wagon.
The two other men climbed up on the wagon seat. The driver urged the horses into a run while the other man fired his gun into the air. The gunfire had the effect of clearing the street ahead of the rushing wagon. The wagon soon disappeared into a cloud of dust. The crowd cheered and applauded thinking it was one of the street performance put on by the museum’s staff. The crowd milled about talking about the surprise performance. Some commented on how realistic it was.
Marcy a ticket seller at the entrance said she heard the gunfire and turned to see the horses pulling the bright red freight wagon gallop past the Church and then turn right in a cloud of dust. She was confused because the wagon was never to be at more than a walk. She heard the gunfire out front and looked to see the horses galloping away down the road. Behind her, she could hear the crowd of visitors cheering and applauding. She looked towards the site office and saw The site manager, George, come out of his office and look out the service gate. He looked confused and rubbed his balding head.
George continued the story. He was at his desk when he heard the clinking of harness and galloping horses rush by through the service gate. He ran out of the office to see the wagon racing down the road and thought the horses had bolted. George knew wagon driver could handle the team so he was not worried. The driver would be back when he settled the horses.
Before he could go back to his office, a staff member rushed up to him with the fantastic tale of the robbery. George was stunned. He looked down the road and could not see the wagon.
As unbelievable the story seemed, George called the RCMP office in Wells. At first, the officer thought his call was a hoax. It took a couple of minutes for his story to be taken seriously but the officer still chucked as he said he would send a unit out.
By the time the police car arrived, George had a good idea of what had happened. As he was telling the smiling officer what happened, they heard shouts coming from the stable. The police officer followed him as he rushed to the stable. They had to make their way through curious onlookers that had gathered as well. When they arrived, the hostler was moving hay bales and gear.
“They’re in here,” the hostler shouted.
The wagon driver and his young assistant were found blindfolded, gagged, and tied up. They were freed and had no injuries. They told George and officer that they were ready to make their usual run through Barkerville when masked men accosted them. They were unable to give a good description due to the masks and the period clothing.
George led the officer to the assay office to look at the crime scene. The iron-gate was breeched and the safe was missing. A small crowd of visitors appeared on the boardwalk outside as word spread quickly that it really was a real robbery and a police officer in attendance. One of the street performers told them that some visitors chased out of the assay office by gunpoint. Those visitors became distressed when they heard that the robbery was real and were at the House Hotel being comforted. After looking over the office, the officer told George to lock the place and not let anybody in until the investigators were finished.
At the House Hotel, the officer questioned the visitors. They were in shock and admitted that they thought it was all part of the show. All they could say was that the men were masked and in western dress. Out on the boardwalk, George and the officer listened as other visitors told what they knew. None could can to the description of the robbers already given. The whole event happened in less than ten minutes. They all said they thought the robbery was part of the street performances.
George ordered the gates closed and no one was to leave until they spoke with a police officer. The officer radioed for other officers to attend and requested some more to be sent out from Quesnel.
When the other police officers arrived, they were instructed to take statements from the witnesses. The first officer and George went out in the police cruiser to have a look around on the forestry roads around Barkerville but did find anything.
I watched the television news at six o’clock to see if there was any new information or if anything else was uncovered.
An RCMP officer shared what the police knew about the case. He finished by surmising that the robbers had a hidden vehicle in the forest and transferred the safe to it, then left the area unseen. The horses and the wagon, minus the safe, were found in the forest a few miles from Barkerville. The horses were unhurt and the wagon undamaged, both were returned to Barkerville. The officer appealed to the public for help.
After weeks of fruitless investigation, the police investigation stalled.
The Blog's Handling of Story Imports
The blog site is very limited on how it handles imports from a word processor.
It does not retain any formatting or paragraph spacing.
I have to manually add spaces between paragraphs, so I break the posts up into readable chunks.
It does not retain any formatting or paragraph spacing.
I have to manually add spaces between paragraphs, so I break the posts up into readable chunks.
Boat Launching at Rocky Point - My Shortie Story
I submitted this story to Valley Squadron's Newsletter "The Gam".
Valley Squadron is the Fraser Valley chapter of the national Canadian Power and Sail Squadrons organization that teaches safe boating.
My story is being held over for the next issue.
http://www3.telus.net/valleysquadron/home.htm
Boat Launching At Rocky Point.
A True story by Norm MacDonald
A few years ago, I bought my first motor boat, a 1970 eighteen foot Sangstercraft runabout with an inboard/outboard drive system.
I had very little boating experience, other than renting one occasionally. I had not taken any boating courses. How hard can boating be anyway? As long as there is water to ‘float the boat’ it is easy. Right?
The boat came on a trailer which necessitated learning how to get it into the water. I had a 1985 Ford Crown Victoria car then.
The closest local water was Cultus Lake, south of Chilliwack.
If you are new at boating, launching the boat the first few times can be interesting for you and hilarious for any boaters watching you. I soon became good at boat launching in Cultus Lake. The ramp was good and I could get the trailer close to the dock. The man who sold it to me gave me some tips on launching and reloading the boat. I remember them clearly as the mud on the bottom, but I soon became tolerably good, I thought anyway. My son Adrian may have a different opinion though.
Well, I felt comfortable enough to try other things so I persuaded my family to go on a boating venture to Indian Arm. I had rented a boat from Sewell’s in Horseshoe Bay many years before, which was the extent of my saltwater experience. It’s water and boats float on water, right, how hard can it be? By this time, I had acquired an old copy of “Boating In Canada”.
With enthusiasm and an early hour, my family and I left for Rocky Point in Port Moody. I planned to spend the day boating. I found later that my ‘day of boating’ was much longer than my family’s idea of a ‘day of boating’.
I was full of confidence. I was nearly an expert at boat launching. At Cultus you slip the boat off the trail right next to the dock and tie it up. Easy!
At Rocky Point, we had to wait a few minutes for those before us to clear the ramp. I got the ticket and got back into the car. My three sons and wife got out to watch. Adrian our oldest would assist me. I backed down the ramp which was steeper than Cultus Lake. I unhooked the tie-down straps and made sure the plug was in, then handed the bow line to Adrian. I did a perfect job off slipping the boat off the trailer bunks and got out to help Adrian to tie the boat to the dock.
It was only then that I noticed the dock was about ten feet above us. The tide was out. Denise and the other two boys were looking down on us. The boat was floating free with Adrian hanging onto the bow line. The dock I wanted to tie-up to was about a hundred more feet out on the water. To complicate matters the boat was slowly drifting to the pilings. My first thought was to chuck the lines up to Jeff and Denise up high on the dock, but the lines were too short. Adrian was trying hard to keep the boat out of the pilings and the off the rocks while I scrambled trying to get longer lines, by this time my calm self-assured demeanor dissolved. I started giving ‘clear’ frenzied orders to my family crew.
My idea was to throw the long lines up to Denise and Jeff and have them pull the boat to the floating dock while I fended off the pilings with the boat hook. (At least I had one.) Well, that didn’t work. The pilings were too far apart and the boat would go between them, besides pulling the ropes that high up just pulled the boat under the dock. I yelled for Denise and Jeff to stop pulling. I was losing it big time and my family was dismayed.
A man, up on the dock calmly, said, “You should have looked at the flag to check the wind.”
“What flag?” I asked. He pointed to the flagpole that I never saw and would not have looked at anyway, because I was good at launching the boat. (At Cultus anyways.)
By this time, the boat was sideways to the ramp with Adrian trying to keep it off the rocks and out of the pilings that were inches away. Fortunately, he still held the bow line. My car and trailer were still on the ramp. Up above a curious crowd gathered, I got even more flustered.
The helpful man above said “You’re going to have to drive it over.”
“Drive it?” I had never done that when launching. But, at this point I saw that it was the only option. I helped Adrian to pull the boat away from the rocks and pilings and line it up with the trailer. To hold the boat Adrian had to get wet, which did not impress him, but being a good son he did what he was told, though the looks I got indicated that he was helping a fool.
I managed to get the engine started while I was frazzled and shaking. I was going to back up a bit and turn around. Well, guess what, the wind blew me towards the pilings, so like every other ‘skilled’ boater I hit the throttle forward and lurched out of control for moment. (The boat had a one-lever control for gears and throttle.)
Somehow, I got the thing turned around and under control and over to the floating dock to tie up. On the way to the car and trailer, I saw just how large a crowd I had entertained while embarrassing my family. You can imagine how I felt.
Boating in Indian Arm went well until I decided to head under the Second Narrows Bridge. Coming out of Indian Arm I took a right turn and sped across the water towards the bridge but soon noticed the depth under the boat was two feet and lessening. We were a ways of shore and out past the anchored barges.
A look at my strip chart would have told me that I was in very shallow water, if I had looked and could have read it. Hey, at least, I had the chart. Well, I dropped the speed fast and raised the leg then crawled to deeper water.
Coming back into the Rocky Point launch, I saw a rowing scull coming out off my starboard bow. Knowing I should give way, I moved to port and to my surprise the engine quit. A big swirl of mud my confirmed that I had grounded the leg. I raised the leg and got the engine going again and made it to the dock.
A keen observer on the dock said, “You should keep to the right when the water is low.”
Getting the boat back on the trailer was easy, sort of. I knew I had to drive the boat up to the trailer. I had seen it done, but I had never done it. We tied up to the floating dock and disembarked. I got the car and trailer lined up on the ramp then did my drive up to the trailer. I was extremely nervous. I went really slow so as not to crash, that allowed the boat to be influenced by other forces and not straight line ones. After a couple of false lineups, I got the bow so it was in line with the bunks under the water and cut the engine.
While drifting in, I climbed onto the bow and grabbed the bow line and hopped off into the water as the boat drifted back and a little sideways. I had the bow line and with some tugging and pushing I got the boat lined up and ready for the winch strap.
I soon learned that the metal on the trailer was slippery and skin hungry. Some pain adds another dimension to becoming good at boat launching and returning it to the trailer. I had a few more lessons to learn but never became an expert or even comfortable with it.
I hate having the public watching me goof-up and there were always people around to watch. I am not sure if the people come first or the goof-ups do; none-the-less, they are inexorably linked and ever-present at the worst times.
We managed to get home with a few laughs and I learned that my ‘day of boating’ was much longer than my family’s ‘day of boating’.
I tell you this to encourage you to take the Boating Course from the Canadian Power and Sail Squadrons and other courses, if you have not already done so. I started self-study soon after the above escapade.
I am currently the Training Officer for Valley Squadron, Canadian Power and Sail Squadrons. Teaching safe boating.
Valley Squadron is the Fraser Valley chapter of the national Canadian Power and Sail Squadrons organization that teaches safe boating.
My story is being held over for the next issue.
http://www3.telus.net/valleysquadron/home.htm
Boat Launching At Rocky Point.
A True story by Norm MacDonald
A few years ago, I bought my first motor boat, a 1970 eighteen foot Sangstercraft runabout with an inboard/outboard drive system.
I had very little boating experience, other than renting one occasionally. I had not taken any boating courses. How hard can boating be anyway? As long as there is water to ‘float the boat’ it is easy. Right?
The boat came on a trailer which necessitated learning how to get it into the water. I had a 1985 Ford Crown Victoria car then.
The closest local water was Cultus Lake, south of Chilliwack.
If you are new at boating, launching the boat the first few times can be interesting for you and hilarious for any boaters watching you. I soon became good at boat launching in Cultus Lake. The ramp was good and I could get the trailer close to the dock. The man who sold it to me gave me some tips on launching and reloading the boat. I remember them clearly as the mud on the bottom, but I soon became tolerably good, I thought anyway. My son Adrian may have a different opinion though.
Well, I felt comfortable enough to try other things so I persuaded my family to go on a boating venture to Indian Arm. I had rented a boat from Sewell’s in Horseshoe Bay many years before, which was the extent of my saltwater experience. It’s water and boats float on water, right, how hard can it be? By this time, I had acquired an old copy of “Boating In Canada”.
With enthusiasm and an early hour, my family and I left for Rocky Point in Port Moody. I planned to spend the day boating. I found later that my ‘day of boating’ was much longer than my family’s idea of a ‘day of boating’.
I was full of confidence. I was nearly an expert at boat launching. At Cultus you slip the boat off the trail right next to the dock and tie it up. Easy!
At Rocky Point, we had to wait a few minutes for those before us to clear the ramp. I got the ticket and got back into the car. My three sons and wife got out to watch. Adrian our oldest would assist me. I backed down the ramp which was steeper than Cultus Lake. I unhooked the tie-down straps and made sure the plug was in, then handed the bow line to Adrian. I did a perfect job off slipping the boat off the trailer bunks and got out to help Adrian to tie the boat to the dock.
It was only then that I noticed the dock was about ten feet above us. The tide was out. Denise and the other two boys were looking down on us. The boat was floating free with Adrian hanging onto the bow line. The dock I wanted to tie-up to was about a hundred more feet out on the water. To complicate matters the boat was slowly drifting to the pilings. My first thought was to chuck the lines up to Jeff and Denise up high on the dock, but the lines were too short. Adrian was trying hard to keep the boat out of the pilings and the off the rocks while I scrambled trying to get longer lines, by this time my calm self-assured demeanor dissolved. I started giving ‘clear’ frenzied orders to my family crew.
My idea was to throw the long lines up to Denise and Jeff and have them pull the boat to the floating dock while I fended off the pilings with the boat hook. (At least I had one.) Well, that didn’t work. The pilings were too far apart and the boat would go between them, besides pulling the ropes that high up just pulled the boat under the dock. I yelled for Denise and Jeff to stop pulling. I was losing it big time and my family was dismayed.
A man, up on the dock calmly, said, “You should have looked at the flag to check the wind.”
“What flag?” I asked. He pointed to the flagpole that I never saw and would not have looked at anyway, because I was good at launching the boat. (At Cultus anyways.)
By this time, the boat was sideways to the ramp with Adrian trying to keep it off the rocks and out of the pilings that were inches away. Fortunately, he still held the bow line. My car and trailer were still on the ramp. Up above a curious crowd gathered, I got even more flustered.
The helpful man above said “You’re going to have to drive it over.”
“Drive it?” I had never done that when launching. But, at this point I saw that it was the only option. I helped Adrian to pull the boat away from the rocks and pilings and line it up with the trailer. To hold the boat Adrian had to get wet, which did not impress him, but being a good son he did what he was told, though the looks I got indicated that he was helping a fool.
I managed to get the engine started while I was frazzled and shaking. I was going to back up a bit and turn around. Well, guess what, the wind blew me towards the pilings, so like every other ‘skilled’ boater I hit the throttle forward and lurched out of control for moment. (The boat had a one-lever control for gears and throttle.)
Somehow, I got the thing turned around and under control and over to the floating dock to tie up. On the way to the car and trailer, I saw just how large a crowd I had entertained while embarrassing my family. You can imagine how I felt.
Boating in Indian Arm went well until I decided to head under the Second Narrows Bridge. Coming out of Indian Arm I took a right turn and sped across the water towards the bridge but soon noticed the depth under the boat was two feet and lessening. We were a ways of shore and out past the anchored barges.
A look at my strip chart would have told me that I was in very shallow water, if I had looked and could have read it. Hey, at least, I had the chart. Well, I dropped the speed fast and raised the leg then crawled to deeper water.
Coming back into the Rocky Point launch, I saw a rowing scull coming out off my starboard bow. Knowing I should give way, I moved to port and to my surprise the engine quit. A big swirl of mud my confirmed that I had grounded the leg. I raised the leg and got the engine going again and made it to the dock.
A keen observer on the dock said, “You should keep to the right when the water is low.”
Getting the boat back on the trailer was easy, sort of. I knew I had to drive the boat up to the trailer. I had seen it done, but I had never done it. We tied up to the floating dock and disembarked. I got the car and trailer lined up on the ramp then did my drive up to the trailer. I was extremely nervous. I went really slow so as not to crash, that allowed the boat to be influenced by other forces and not straight line ones. After a couple of false lineups, I got the bow so it was in line with the bunks under the water and cut the engine.
While drifting in, I climbed onto the bow and grabbed the bow line and hopped off into the water as the boat drifted back and a little sideways. I had the bow line and with some tugging and pushing I got the boat lined up and ready for the winch strap.
I soon learned that the metal on the trailer was slippery and skin hungry. Some pain adds another dimension to becoming good at boat launching and returning it to the trailer. I had a few more lessons to learn but never became an expert or even comfortable with it.
I hate having the public watching me goof-up and there were always people around to watch. I am not sure if the people come first or the goof-ups do; none-the-less, they are inexorably linked and ever-present at the worst times.
We managed to get home with a few laughs and I learned that my ‘day of boating’ was much longer than my family’s ‘day of boating’.
I tell you this to encourage you to take the Boating Course from the Canadian Power and Sail Squadrons and other courses, if you have not already done so. I started self-study soon after the above escapade.
I am currently the Training Officer for Valley Squadron, Canadian Power and Sail Squadrons. Teaching safe boating.
Chapter 2 - The Motel Keys
This is a fictional work protected by Author Copyright.
It is offered here for reading even though it is not a finished polished work.
Chapter 1 was posted previously.
The Motel Keys
Chapter 2
It was a sunny day in June 1964, Frank was on the parade square as usual for the morning calisthenics. He had finished his time in the Canadian Army and was waiting to muster out. While he progressed through the exercises, he thought back over his time in the army, for the most part, it was good and he enjoyed it. He learned a lot and became skilled in combat, both armed and unarmed. His latest assignment was instructing new recruits in weapons at HMCS Cornwallis in Nova Scotia. Frank was skilled in all types of small arms and an expert marksman. He missed his family and the family farm on the Alberta prairies and was ready to go home; all he needed was ‘the word’. It could come any time, maybe, today.
"Conlon, front and center" commanded the Warrant Officer. Frank snapped to attention and marched out of the squad to face the Warrant Officer. "You're mustering out today so get your gear and report to the Quartermaster.
"Yes, Warrant." Frank snapped as he popped to attention. Frank turned and double-time marched to his barracks to get his gear. The time had come after four long years in the Canadian Army, he was going home and he was looking forward to it. He liked the army well enough but decided it was not the career for him and he wanted to be closer to his family. He had joined just out of high school when he was eighteen. He wanted some adventure and to get out of Redcliff. The army offered him a way to do it. He wanted to see more of the world than a small town on the Alberta prairie.
He liked the army and all the new things he learned. He liked how they challenged him and strengthened his character. He liked using the equipment and the weapons. He became skilled in most things. He was adept at hand-to-hand combat. In all, he made a good soldier but decided he did not want to make it his life's career. A lot had been changing in the world outside while he was in the army and he wanted to be part of what was happening.
The army normally arranged travel on The Dominion, an older trans-continental train but Frank persuaded the Quartermaster to book passage on The Canadian, the newer trans-continental passenger train. Frank paid the difference in the fare and paid for sleeping accommodations. It was just over a four-day trip and he wanted to be comfortable. The Canadian departed from Toronto going west. From Halifax, Frank would travel on The Atlantic Limited to Montreal, about twenty-three hours from Halifax, and from Montreal, he would take a day coach to Toronto.
The Canadian was new with its sleek and shiny stainless steel cars. The Dominion was dark and dull with its old worn dark wine coloured cars. The Canadian had new Dome cars where passengers could sit and look at an all-around view of the passing landscape and the sky.
The two trains leave at the same time from the opposite coasts, the westbound from Toronto and the eastbound from Vancouver, British Columbia.
Frank caught the bus from the base to Halifax. It was an easy hike over to the CPR station carrying his only luggage, an overstuffed duffle bag. The station was busy but he did not have to wait long before boarding time.
Frank found his section at the rear of the sleeping car easily enough. The ticket agent said he had the section all to himself. Frank dropped his duffle on the floor under the window and settled into his seat. It was about fifteen minutes to departure, so he stayed sitting looking out the window and occasionally watching as other passengers boarded.
An elderly couple made their way to a section close to the front. A family with four young children claimed two sections across from each other in the middle of the car. A few other passengers claimed other sections.
By eight o'clock, the departure time, the car was only half-full and Frank was anxious for the train to get started, then came a clatter from behind him and he heard the Conductor call "ALLLLL ABOOOARD".
He was on his way home. It was a good run to Montreal and Frank enjoyed the occasional views of the St. Lawrence River. The run to Toronto was a busy commuter route. The coach car was crowded.
In Toronto, he had some time before The Canadian departed but it was not enough time to do much. When he finally boarded the trans-continental, Frank settled into his section and hoped for a quiet restful trip home.
He was just nodding off with his head against the window when all the commotion started.
Frank looked around the wall of his section and saw frazzled young woman holding a crying baby with a scared youngster with wet red eyes clinging to her leg and their bags in a pile on the floor. The train started moving slowly and silently. The Conductor told the woman to move along as he lowered the platform gate to cover the stairs. The dazed woman moved slightly and appeared confused. Frank got up and offered his assistance. The section across from his was empty so he guided the woman and child to it and went back to get her bags. The Conductor followed Frank and stopped to ask the woman for her tickets, as he waited for them, he explained that the woman almost missed the train. Fortunately, Frank had guided the woman to the right section. After checking the tickets, the Conductor moved on through the car. Frank offered his assistance to the woman and introduced himself as he tousled the sandy hair of the youngster while he waited for a response.
The woman shifted the crying baby to the other shoulder and meekly smiled. "I'm Mary Clarke. This is Gordy", Mary said as she pointed to the youngster clinging to her knee with her skirt wrapped in his hands. The baby's crying slowed to a whimper, "and this is Colleen”, as she patted the baby's back.
"Pleased to know you", Frank said as he shuffled the bags around and under the seats. "I'm seated across from you, if I can be of any assistance feel free to ask". With that, Frank returned to his seat, not wanting to make Mary and the youngster uncomfortable, he turned to look out the window. He could hear shuffling around and Mary's quiet voice as she comforted the children.
Within a few minutes, the train was out of Toronto and passing through the Ontario countryside. As he sat taking in the view, Frank thought back about the last few years. He did not really want to join the army. He used the army as a way of leaving home and getting out of Redcliff. Once in the army, he enjoyed what he was doing and all the training he had gone through. He was young and foolish when he made the decision, but looking back it was a good decision for him. Now, he was returning home a mature man, comfortable with himself and life.
Frank had missed the open expanses of the prairie and small-town life. He did not think he would, when he left, but time has a way of changing a person's thinking. He was looking forward to seeing his family and the town again.
With his head leaning on the window glass and lost in thought, he was oblivious to his surroundings. He heard a soft voice say, "Excuse me" but it didn't register in his mind. He continued leaning on the glass and blankly staring out the window.
"Excuse me” the voice slowly sunk into Frank's consciousness and he shook himself out of his daze and looked up. Standing over him was the young mother.
"They're sleeping. May I sit down?" Frank looked across the aisle and saw the two children lying on the seats. He motioned for Mary to sit opposite him. He noticed that she sat down with grace and poise. She locked eyes with him, which made him feel uncomfortable, until she smiled.
"I want to thank you for your assistance, I appreciate it." Mary said as she brushed her strawberry hair from her eyes.
"Oh, it was nothing. I'm glad to help. In case you don't remember I'm Frank."
"Oh, I do remember your name, thank you." Mary smiled with a slight Irish brogue to her soft voice. "You see we just barely made it onto the train, our taxi was late and it was hard managing the bags with the children. The Conductor had already called 'All Aboard' as we came out of the station. He grabbed my bags and threw them into the car, and then he hustled us up the steps as the train began to move he jumped on. Your help was most opportune."
Frank found Mary charming and likable.
Mary continued, "We’re going to Calgary to be with my parents for a little while. My husband recently died in an explosion at the base in Petawawa." Frank remembered hearing about the accident where three of four soldiers had died. "My husband was training with explosives when the accident occurred. None of them had a chance. His body will be shipped to Calgary in a few days."
"Please accept my condolences; my offer to help still stands. I just finished four years in the army and I am returning to my home town, Redcliff."
"Oh, another Albertan, it's good to meet someone from home. I've been among strangers these last two years." Frank saw Mary start to relax as if he was a familiar friend.
"Would you like a glass of water?" He offered and got up as Mary nodded. Frank went to the water fountain and filled a paper cup for Mary and one for him. The two of them sat quietly while they drank the water. Mary looked over to admire the sleeping children and Frank's eyes followed. They were darling children while sleeping.
"They're lovely children." Frank complimented.
"That, they are. It’s been hard on them this last couple of weeks. I was so busy taking care of affairs and had to take them along with me because I had no one to leave them with."
"Well, now you have four days to relax." Frank reassured Mary, who let out a deep sigh and visibly relaxed. "How old are the children?"
"Gordy's three and Colleen's nine months.
"Quite a handful?”
"No, not really, they're good kids and I love them dearly." Frank could see the love in her eyes for them. Gordy stirred from his sleep and looked through bleary eyes to find his mother. When he saw her, he slowly slid off the seat and moved over against Mary's legs. Mary hugged him and rubbed his head.
"Gordy, I want you to meet Frank. He is riding with us on the train." Gordy gave a shy smile then turned to place his face in Mary's lap while he peeked at Frank with one eye.
"Hi Gordy, I'm Frank, I'm glad to meet you." Gordy slowly turned his head and looked at Frank as his mother said, "It's okay, Gordy." Frank reached out his hand and Gordy slowly took it and gave it a shake.
"Frank's going to Calgary like us,” Mary told Gordy.
Gordy's eyes brightened, "Are you a cowboy?"
The question stunned Frank for a moment, and then he replied, "Well, yes, I am when I'm at home on the farm."
"You have horses?" Gordy asked excitedly as he moved to stand next to Frank's legs and look into his face with anticipation.
"Yes, we have horses." Frank answered as Gordy climbed up on the seat and snuggled up against him. Mary smiled. Frank was a little shocked. He had not been around little children for years and was uncomfortable around them. He rested his arm behind Gordy and looked at Mary unsure what to say or do. Colleen stirred and Mary crossed the aisle to take care of her, leaving Gordy with Frank.
Frank turned to the window and watched the countryside slip past. Gordy just sat there not saying a word. If anything, he pressed in closer to Frank because Frank could feel his side get warm and sweaty. The reflection on the window showed that Mary had finished changing the baby and was putting her to the breast for feeding. Self-conscious, Frank adjusted his position so the reflection disappeared. He could hear Mary speaking softly as she tended the baby. He was comforted too and slipped into a snooze.
Frank woke when Gordy stirred saying, "Mom, I have to go." Mary looked at Colleen who had just fallen asleep and she did not want to disturb her taking Gordy to the washroom.
"Would you mind?” Mary asked softly as her eyes pleaded with Frank.
"Huh?" Frank was not sure he heard right, was she asking him to take the boy to the bathroom?
"Would you mind?", as she nodded her head towards Gordy, "He has to go."
"Oh! Oh! Uh! Yes." Frank answered, as he flustered about the request. Frank got up as Gordy slid off the seat. "It's back here," as he pointed to the rear of the car. Frank opened the washroom door to let Gordy pass under his arm. He hoped the kid could manage on his own because he did not relish the thought of helping. Frank leaned against the sink relieved that he did not have to help. He could hear the tinkle and rolled his eyes. He was lost in his thoughts until he heard a soft "Excuse me" coming up from down by his knees. He looked down and Gordy was standing there looking up at him with a serious look on his face. "I have to wash my hands. Mommy always tells me to wash my hands after going."
"Oh!" Frank was surprised that he did not think that the kid needed to wash his hands and moved to make room at the sink. Gordy washed his hands carefully though he made a weak effort at drying them before reaching for the door handle. As Frank saw him struggle with the heavy door, he saw that Gordy's shirt was not tucked in properly. "Wait a minute, Little Man" as he knelt down to adjust the little boy's clothes. Gordy's moist hand was cool as he grabbed onto Frank's hand on the way back to their seats.
"Mom, can I see the train?"
"Not now, Colleen's asleep." Mary replied tiredly.
"Frank can show me the train." Gordy pleaded as he looked up at Frank.
"Sure, if it’s okay with your mom?" Frank replied as he thought 'Oh, great', he didn't want be babysitting the kid. He wanted to take it easy on the way home, this kid and his mother were complicating things.
"It would be really nice as long as you don't mind?" He did mind but she had enough problems already without Frank adding to them so he adjusted his attitude. They had taught him in the army to make the best of situations.
Frank swallowed hard, "I don't mind."
"Good." Gordy said as he turned and started running towards the front of the car.
Frank glanced at Mary, "I better get going."
Mary replied "Enjoy" as Frank hurried away.
Frank caught up with Gordy at the door to the platform between the cars. The door was too heavy for Gordy to open. "I want to see the dome car." Gordy exclaimed as they entered the cool and noisy space between the cars.
The next car was another sleeping car, next was the bedroom car with its narrow passageway along the side. They wobbled a bit as the train lurched and swayed. Gordy loved the unsteadiness and laughed when he wobbled. The next car was the dining car. The stewards were busy setting up for lunch. Gordy stopped to peak into the noisy steaming galley. "Phew" he commented as he turned to rush through the rest of the dining car.
They entered the dome car and Gordy stumbled up the stairs in a rush. Frank followed. Gordy was up at the front standing on a seat when Frank caught up to him.
Gordy was excited as he looked all around. "I can see the whole train."
As Frank came near him, the other passengers smiled at Frank. Frank gave a weak reserved smile back at them.
Gordy's excitement rubbed off on Frank and he started to enjoy being with the little guy. After Gordy tired of the view, he jumped down and said, "Let's go to the front" as he headed for the stairs. Frank followed smiling at the other passengers.
The next couple of cars were seats like on a bus. People turned and smiled as Gordy rushed by with Frank in pursuit. They reached the baggage car and could go no farther so they turned around.
Back in their own car, Gordy tried to tell is mother what they did and saw but his excitement mangled his words. Mary smiled and nodded up at Frank and whispered "Thanks." It took a few minutes for Gordy to settle.
Frank sat in his section thinking about being with Gordy 'it was not bad and kind of fun'. They all sat quietly until the Conductor came through announcing supper was being served.
"Will you join us for lunch, Frank?" Mary asked as she got up and picked up Colleen. Frank got up and took Gordy's hand. They led the way as Mary followed.
Gordy sat next to Frank at the table with Mary across from them as the countryside whizzed past the windows.
The steward took the orders from the two choices offered. Their meals with delivered in a few minutes. They made small talk over the meal. Mary revealed more of her life and Frank told her a little about his life. Gordy was interested in the farm and horses. Frank found himself becoming comfortable around them and really liked Mary. She was nice and good looking too. Quietly his mind wandered off considering what a relationship with Mary would be like. She was nice but he was not ready for such a commitment.
After supper, they returned to their sections. Mary laid Colleen down to sleep and got out some small toys for Gordy. Frank let Gordy play in his section while he visited with Mary. After supper around eight o'clock, the porter came to make up the berths. Frank helped Gordy to the washroom again while Mary fed the baby. They settled in for the night. Frank fell asleep thinking about Mary.
At six in the morning, the porter came through announcing breakfast for seven o'clock. Mary took Gordy to the washroom and got him dressed while Frank watched Colleen. Then, Frank watched over the children while Mary went to freshen up. She came back looking very attractive. Her strawberry done up nicely with wisps hair framing he face. Her face was fresh with pink cheeks. ‘God, she is beautiful,’ Frank thought.
"I'll meet you in the dining car in a few minutes." Frank said as he went to freshen up.
While they were at breakfast, the porter set the car back to daytime use. Frank and Mary got their stuff ready for the day.
It was a long day hanging around the station especially with a three year old. Frank never kept so busy keeping some one entertained. And the walks, if he walked about the station once with Gordy he did it twenty times. It would take about two and a half days to reach Alberta. By this time, Frank was much more comfortable with Mary and the children so some people thought they were married. They did not try to explain, they let the people think what they wanted.
The journey west was much the same as the first day. The train rolled along relentlessly as miles and miles of countryside rolled past. Gordy was more content to play around in the sections to Frank's relief. He did not want to spend the whole trip following Gordy from one end of the train to the other. They did make one trip to the rear of the train to the lounge car.
Children could only visit the car during the day. Big windows wrapped around the end of the car giving an all around view to the rear. Gordy was fascinated watching the tracks follow behind and stretch into the distance. Gordy enjoyed the going up to the dome where the whole train could be seen stretched out like a silver snake winding though the countryside. The steward asked Gordy if he wanted to do some coloring. He led Gordy to a small alcove with a table and set out some crayons and outlines pictures of trains. While Gordy colored, the steward folded a cardboard image into a model of the train's engine. After about a half hour Gordy picked up his picture, and the engine. He beamed with pride as he showed them to Frank. Frank urged him to thank the steward as they left to return to Mary.
The rest of the trip was uneventful except for one incident. A drunken man had stopped Mary as she returned from the washroom. Frank didn’t know what was happening until he heard Mary’s distressed voice coming from the other end of the car.
“No, leave me alone.” He hear her say.
He rushed to the end of the car and found Mary trapped in the narrow passage by man who Frank quickly determined was drunk. He was trying to get Mary to kiss him. Mary was trying hard to break away. Frank grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him around. He pushed the man against the bulkhead looked him straight in the eyes as he said tersely “Leave her alone.” The man was apologetic and blubbery. Frank pushed him along the passage and ordered “Don’t bother the lady again.” The drunk slunk back to his own car. Frank supported Mary as they walked back to their seats. She felt so nice and warm so close to him and so soft. Frank liked that.
The rest of the journey was pleasant. Frank enjoyed Mary and the children. His mind often thought of a relationship with her.
Gordy was intrigued by the flatness of prairies especially Saskatchewan. To Frank it felt like he was home again. He really did miss the prairies.
They were up around six in the morning. Frank got ready for his departure. They would arrive in Medicine Hat around nine or ten. As they got closer to Medicine Hat, Frank was feeling a little regret, he had come to like Gordy and his mother and would miss them. They exchanged addresses and Mary promised to write. She had an aunt and uncle in Redcliff and promised to visit sometime.
As the train approached Medicine Hat station, Mary said to Frank, "Thank you so much for your help especially with Gordy."
“It was a pleasure. Take care of yourself and the children." Frank told her.
Mary crossed the aisle and gave Frank a hug and a light kiss of appreciation. Frank did not expect it and felt flustered. He could hear the Conductor get the car stairs ready for disembarking. The train slowly ground to a halt with squealing brakes and a low rumble moving slowly through the cars.
"Goodbye, Mary." He said as he knelt down to Gordy’s height. "Goodbye, Gordy."
He reached his hand out so Gordy could shake it but Gordy pressed in for a big hug. There were tears in Gordy's eyes when he pulled away. Frank could feel his eyes get full to where a warm tear would drop at any moment. This was new to Frank after all he was a tough soldier and did not really like little kids but Gordy grew on him. Frank grabbed his duffle bag and departed making sure Mary did not see his weakness. A tear slipped down his cheek as he stepped onto the station platform. He wiped his eyes with his hankerchief, then moved so he could wave goodbye through the window. Mary sat holding Colleen as she looked out at Frank. Gordy stood peeking over the windowsill. He was crying softly with his hand against the window reaching out towards Frank. Frank could see tears in Mary's eyes as she waved. A tear or two broke from his eyes as the Conductor yelled "Allll Aboooard!"
He stood the for a moment watching the train depart. As it crossed the bridge over the South Saskatchewan River, Frank heard someone calling
"FRANK, FRANK." Frank turned. It was his brother Charlie. Frank quickly wiped his eyes.
It is offered here for reading even though it is not a finished polished work.
Chapter 1 was posted previously.
The Motel Keys
Chapter 2
It was a sunny day in June 1964, Frank was on the parade square as usual for the morning calisthenics. He had finished his time in the Canadian Army and was waiting to muster out. While he progressed through the exercises, he thought back over his time in the army, for the most part, it was good and he enjoyed it. He learned a lot and became skilled in combat, both armed and unarmed. His latest assignment was instructing new recruits in weapons at HMCS Cornwallis in Nova Scotia. Frank was skilled in all types of small arms and an expert marksman. He missed his family and the family farm on the Alberta prairies and was ready to go home; all he needed was ‘the word’. It could come any time, maybe, today.
"Conlon, front and center" commanded the Warrant Officer. Frank snapped to attention and marched out of the squad to face the Warrant Officer. "You're mustering out today so get your gear and report to the Quartermaster.
"Yes, Warrant." Frank snapped as he popped to attention. Frank turned and double-time marched to his barracks to get his gear. The time had come after four long years in the Canadian Army, he was going home and he was looking forward to it. He liked the army well enough but decided it was not the career for him and he wanted to be closer to his family. He had joined just out of high school when he was eighteen. He wanted some adventure and to get out of Redcliff. The army offered him a way to do it. He wanted to see more of the world than a small town on the Alberta prairie.
He liked the army and all the new things he learned. He liked how they challenged him and strengthened his character. He liked using the equipment and the weapons. He became skilled in most things. He was adept at hand-to-hand combat. In all, he made a good soldier but decided he did not want to make it his life's career. A lot had been changing in the world outside while he was in the army and he wanted to be part of what was happening.
The army normally arranged travel on The Dominion, an older trans-continental train but Frank persuaded the Quartermaster to book passage on The Canadian, the newer trans-continental passenger train. Frank paid the difference in the fare and paid for sleeping accommodations. It was just over a four-day trip and he wanted to be comfortable. The Canadian departed from Toronto going west. From Halifax, Frank would travel on The Atlantic Limited to Montreal, about twenty-three hours from Halifax, and from Montreal, he would take a day coach to Toronto.
The Canadian was new with its sleek and shiny stainless steel cars. The Dominion was dark and dull with its old worn dark wine coloured cars. The Canadian had new Dome cars where passengers could sit and look at an all-around view of the passing landscape and the sky.
The two trains leave at the same time from the opposite coasts, the westbound from Toronto and the eastbound from Vancouver, British Columbia.
Frank caught the bus from the base to Halifax. It was an easy hike over to the CPR station carrying his only luggage, an overstuffed duffle bag. The station was busy but he did not have to wait long before boarding time.
Frank found his section at the rear of the sleeping car easily enough. The ticket agent said he had the section all to himself. Frank dropped his duffle on the floor under the window and settled into his seat. It was about fifteen minutes to departure, so he stayed sitting looking out the window and occasionally watching as other passengers boarded.
An elderly couple made their way to a section close to the front. A family with four young children claimed two sections across from each other in the middle of the car. A few other passengers claimed other sections.
By eight o'clock, the departure time, the car was only half-full and Frank was anxious for the train to get started, then came a clatter from behind him and he heard the Conductor call "ALLLLL ABOOOARD".
He was on his way home. It was a good run to Montreal and Frank enjoyed the occasional views of the St. Lawrence River. The run to Toronto was a busy commuter route. The coach car was crowded.
In Toronto, he had some time before The Canadian departed but it was not enough time to do much. When he finally boarded the trans-continental, Frank settled into his section and hoped for a quiet restful trip home.
He was just nodding off with his head against the window when all the commotion started.
Frank looked around the wall of his section and saw frazzled young woman holding a crying baby with a scared youngster with wet red eyes clinging to her leg and their bags in a pile on the floor. The train started moving slowly and silently. The Conductor told the woman to move along as he lowered the platform gate to cover the stairs. The dazed woman moved slightly and appeared confused. Frank got up and offered his assistance. The section across from his was empty so he guided the woman and child to it and went back to get her bags. The Conductor followed Frank and stopped to ask the woman for her tickets, as he waited for them, he explained that the woman almost missed the train. Fortunately, Frank had guided the woman to the right section. After checking the tickets, the Conductor moved on through the car. Frank offered his assistance to the woman and introduced himself as he tousled the sandy hair of the youngster while he waited for a response.
The woman shifted the crying baby to the other shoulder and meekly smiled. "I'm Mary Clarke. This is Gordy", Mary said as she pointed to the youngster clinging to her knee with her skirt wrapped in his hands. The baby's crying slowed to a whimper, "and this is Colleen”, as she patted the baby's back.
"Pleased to know you", Frank said as he shuffled the bags around and under the seats. "I'm seated across from you, if I can be of any assistance feel free to ask". With that, Frank returned to his seat, not wanting to make Mary and the youngster uncomfortable, he turned to look out the window. He could hear shuffling around and Mary's quiet voice as she comforted the children.
Within a few minutes, the train was out of Toronto and passing through the Ontario countryside. As he sat taking in the view, Frank thought back about the last few years. He did not really want to join the army. He used the army as a way of leaving home and getting out of Redcliff. Once in the army, he enjoyed what he was doing and all the training he had gone through. He was young and foolish when he made the decision, but looking back it was a good decision for him. Now, he was returning home a mature man, comfortable with himself and life.
Frank had missed the open expanses of the prairie and small-town life. He did not think he would, when he left, but time has a way of changing a person's thinking. He was looking forward to seeing his family and the town again.
With his head leaning on the window glass and lost in thought, he was oblivious to his surroundings. He heard a soft voice say, "Excuse me" but it didn't register in his mind. He continued leaning on the glass and blankly staring out the window.
"Excuse me” the voice slowly sunk into Frank's consciousness and he shook himself out of his daze and looked up. Standing over him was the young mother.
"They're sleeping. May I sit down?" Frank looked across the aisle and saw the two children lying on the seats. He motioned for Mary to sit opposite him. He noticed that she sat down with grace and poise. She locked eyes with him, which made him feel uncomfortable, until she smiled.
"I want to thank you for your assistance, I appreciate it." Mary said as she brushed her strawberry hair from her eyes.
"Oh, it was nothing. I'm glad to help. In case you don't remember I'm Frank."
"Oh, I do remember your name, thank you." Mary smiled with a slight Irish brogue to her soft voice. "You see we just barely made it onto the train, our taxi was late and it was hard managing the bags with the children. The Conductor had already called 'All Aboard' as we came out of the station. He grabbed my bags and threw them into the car, and then he hustled us up the steps as the train began to move he jumped on. Your help was most opportune."
Frank found Mary charming and likable.
Mary continued, "We’re going to Calgary to be with my parents for a little while. My husband recently died in an explosion at the base in Petawawa." Frank remembered hearing about the accident where three of four soldiers had died. "My husband was training with explosives when the accident occurred. None of them had a chance. His body will be shipped to Calgary in a few days."
"Please accept my condolences; my offer to help still stands. I just finished four years in the army and I am returning to my home town, Redcliff."
"Oh, another Albertan, it's good to meet someone from home. I've been among strangers these last two years." Frank saw Mary start to relax as if he was a familiar friend.
"Would you like a glass of water?" He offered and got up as Mary nodded. Frank went to the water fountain and filled a paper cup for Mary and one for him. The two of them sat quietly while they drank the water. Mary looked over to admire the sleeping children and Frank's eyes followed. They were darling children while sleeping.
"They're lovely children." Frank complimented.
"That, they are. It’s been hard on them this last couple of weeks. I was so busy taking care of affairs and had to take them along with me because I had no one to leave them with."
"Well, now you have four days to relax." Frank reassured Mary, who let out a deep sigh and visibly relaxed. "How old are the children?"
"Gordy's three and Colleen's nine months.
"Quite a handful?”
"No, not really, they're good kids and I love them dearly." Frank could see the love in her eyes for them. Gordy stirred from his sleep and looked through bleary eyes to find his mother. When he saw her, he slowly slid off the seat and moved over against Mary's legs. Mary hugged him and rubbed his head.
"Gordy, I want you to meet Frank. He is riding with us on the train." Gordy gave a shy smile then turned to place his face in Mary's lap while he peeked at Frank with one eye.
"Hi Gordy, I'm Frank, I'm glad to meet you." Gordy slowly turned his head and looked at Frank as his mother said, "It's okay, Gordy." Frank reached out his hand and Gordy slowly took it and gave it a shake.
"Frank's going to Calgary like us,” Mary told Gordy.
Gordy's eyes brightened, "Are you a cowboy?"
The question stunned Frank for a moment, and then he replied, "Well, yes, I am when I'm at home on the farm."
"You have horses?" Gordy asked excitedly as he moved to stand next to Frank's legs and look into his face with anticipation.
"Yes, we have horses." Frank answered as Gordy climbed up on the seat and snuggled up against him. Mary smiled. Frank was a little shocked. He had not been around little children for years and was uncomfortable around them. He rested his arm behind Gordy and looked at Mary unsure what to say or do. Colleen stirred and Mary crossed the aisle to take care of her, leaving Gordy with Frank.
Frank turned to the window and watched the countryside slip past. Gordy just sat there not saying a word. If anything, he pressed in closer to Frank because Frank could feel his side get warm and sweaty. The reflection on the window showed that Mary had finished changing the baby and was putting her to the breast for feeding. Self-conscious, Frank adjusted his position so the reflection disappeared. He could hear Mary speaking softly as she tended the baby. He was comforted too and slipped into a snooze.
Frank woke when Gordy stirred saying, "Mom, I have to go." Mary looked at Colleen who had just fallen asleep and she did not want to disturb her taking Gordy to the washroom.
"Would you mind?” Mary asked softly as her eyes pleaded with Frank.
"Huh?" Frank was not sure he heard right, was she asking him to take the boy to the bathroom?
"Would you mind?", as she nodded her head towards Gordy, "He has to go."
"Oh! Oh! Uh! Yes." Frank answered, as he flustered about the request. Frank got up as Gordy slid off the seat. "It's back here," as he pointed to the rear of the car. Frank opened the washroom door to let Gordy pass under his arm. He hoped the kid could manage on his own because he did not relish the thought of helping. Frank leaned against the sink relieved that he did not have to help. He could hear the tinkle and rolled his eyes. He was lost in his thoughts until he heard a soft "Excuse me" coming up from down by his knees. He looked down and Gordy was standing there looking up at him with a serious look on his face. "I have to wash my hands. Mommy always tells me to wash my hands after going."
"Oh!" Frank was surprised that he did not think that the kid needed to wash his hands and moved to make room at the sink. Gordy washed his hands carefully though he made a weak effort at drying them before reaching for the door handle. As Frank saw him struggle with the heavy door, he saw that Gordy's shirt was not tucked in properly. "Wait a minute, Little Man" as he knelt down to adjust the little boy's clothes. Gordy's moist hand was cool as he grabbed onto Frank's hand on the way back to their seats.
"Mom, can I see the train?"
"Not now, Colleen's asleep." Mary replied tiredly.
"Frank can show me the train." Gordy pleaded as he looked up at Frank.
"Sure, if it’s okay with your mom?" Frank replied as he thought 'Oh, great', he didn't want be babysitting the kid. He wanted to take it easy on the way home, this kid and his mother were complicating things.
"It would be really nice as long as you don't mind?" He did mind but she had enough problems already without Frank adding to them so he adjusted his attitude. They had taught him in the army to make the best of situations.
Frank swallowed hard, "I don't mind."
"Good." Gordy said as he turned and started running towards the front of the car.
Frank glanced at Mary, "I better get going."
Mary replied "Enjoy" as Frank hurried away.
Frank caught up with Gordy at the door to the platform between the cars. The door was too heavy for Gordy to open. "I want to see the dome car." Gordy exclaimed as they entered the cool and noisy space between the cars.
The next car was another sleeping car, next was the bedroom car with its narrow passageway along the side. They wobbled a bit as the train lurched and swayed. Gordy loved the unsteadiness and laughed when he wobbled. The next car was the dining car. The stewards were busy setting up for lunch. Gordy stopped to peak into the noisy steaming galley. "Phew" he commented as he turned to rush through the rest of the dining car.
They entered the dome car and Gordy stumbled up the stairs in a rush. Frank followed. Gordy was up at the front standing on a seat when Frank caught up to him.
Gordy was excited as he looked all around. "I can see the whole train."
As Frank came near him, the other passengers smiled at Frank. Frank gave a weak reserved smile back at them.
Gordy's excitement rubbed off on Frank and he started to enjoy being with the little guy. After Gordy tired of the view, he jumped down and said, "Let's go to the front" as he headed for the stairs. Frank followed smiling at the other passengers.
The next couple of cars were seats like on a bus. People turned and smiled as Gordy rushed by with Frank in pursuit. They reached the baggage car and could go no farther so they turned around.
Back in their own car, Gordy tried to tell is mother what they did and saw but his excitement mangled his words. Mary smiled and nodded up at Frank and whispered "Thanks." It took a few minutes for Gordy to settle.
Frank sat in his section thinking about being with Gordy 'it was not bad and kind of fun'. They all sat quietly until the Conductor came through announcing supper was being served.
"Will you join us for lunch, Frank?" Mary asked as she got up and picked up Colleen. Frank got up and took Gordy's hand. They led the way as Mary followed.
Gordy sat next to Frank at the table with Mary across from them as the countryside whizzed past the windows.
The steward took the orders from the two choices offered. Their meals with delivered in a few minutes. They made small talk over the meal. Mary revealed more of her life and Frank told her a little about his life. Gordy was interested in the farm and horses. Frank found himself becoming comfortable around them and really liked Mary. She was nice and good looking too. Quietly his mind wandered off considering what a relationship with Mary would be like. She was nice but he was not ready for such a commitment.
After supper, they returned to their sections. Mary laid Colleen down to sleep and got out some small toys for Gordy. Frank let Gordy play in his section while he visited with Mary. After supper around eight o'clock, the porter came to make up the berths. Frank helped Gordy to the washroom again while Mary fed the baby. They settled in for the night. Frank fell asleep thinking about Mary.
At six in the morning, the porter came through announcing breakfast for seven o'clock. Mary took Gordy to the washroom and got him dressed while Frank watched Colleen. Then, Frank watched over the children while Mary went to freshen up. She came back looking very attractive. Her strawberry done up nicely with wisps hair framing he face. Her face was fresh with pink cheeks. ‘God, she is beautiful,’ Frank thought.
"I'll meet you in the dining car in a few minutes." Frank said as he went to freshen up.
While they were at breakfast, the porter set the car back to daytime use. Frank and Mary got their stuff ready for the day.
It was a long day hanging around the station especially with a three year old. Frank never kept so busy keeping some one entertained. And the walks, if he walked about the station once with Gordy he did it twenty times. It would take about two and a half days to reach Alberta. By this time, Frank was much more comfortable with Mary and the children so some people thought they were married. They did not try to explain, they let the people think what they wanted.
The journey west was much the same as the first day. The train rolled along relentlessly as miles and miles of countryside rolled past. Gordy was more content to play around in the sections to Frank's relief. He did not want to spend the whole trip following Gordy from one end of the train to the other. They did make one trip to the rear of the train to the lounge car.
Children could only visit the car during the day. Big windows wrapped around the end of the car giving an all around view to the rear. Gordy was fascinated watching the tracks follow behind and stretch into the distance. Gordy enjoyed the going up to the dome where the whole train could be seen stretched out like a silver snake winding though the countryside. The steward asked Gordy if he wanted to do some coloring. He led Gordy to a small alcove with a table and set out some crayons and outlines pictures of trains. While Gordy colored, the steward folded a cardboard image into a model of the train's engine. After about a half hour Gordy picked up his picture, and the engine. He beamed with pride as he showed them to Frank. Frank urged him to thank the steward as they left to return to Mary.
The rest of the trip was uneventful except for one incident. A drunken man had stopped Mary as she returned from the washroom. Frank didn’t know what was happening until he heard Mary’s distressed voice coming from the other end of the car.
“No, leave me alone.” He hear her say.
He rushed to the end of the car and found Mary trapped in the narrow passage by man who Frank quickly determined was drunk. He was trying to get Mary to kiss him. Mary was trying hard to break away. Frank grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him around. He pushed the man against the bulkhead looked him straight in the eyes as he said tersely “Leave her alone.” The man was apologetic and blubbery. Frank pushed him along the passage and ordered “Don’t bother the lady again.” The drunk slunk back to his own car. Frank supported Mary as they walked back to their seats. She felt so nice and warm so close to him and so soft. Frank liked that.
The rest of the journey was pleasant. Frank enjoyed Mary and the children. His mind often thought of a relationship with her.
Gordy was intrigued by the flatness of prairies especially Saskatchewan. To Frank it felt like he was home again. He really did miss the prairies.
They were up around six in the morning. Frank got ready for his departure. They would arrive in Medicine Hat around nine or ten. As they got closer to Medicine Hat, Frank was feeling a little regret, he had come to like Gordy and his mother and would miss them. They exchanged addresses and Mary promised to write. She had an aunt and uncle in Redcliff and promised to visit sometime.
As the train approached Medicine Hat station, Mary said to Frank, "Thank you so much for your help especially with Gordy."
“It was a pleasure. Take care of yourself and the children." Frank told her.
Mary crossed the aisle and gave Frank a hug and a light kiss of appreciation. Frank did not expect it and felt flustered. He could hear the Conductor get the car stairs ready for disembarking. The train slowly ground to a halt with squealing brakes and a low rumble moving slowly through the cars.
"Goodbye, Mary." He said as he knelt down to Gordy’s height. "Goodbye, Gordy."
He reached his hand out so Gordy could shake it but Gordy pressed in for a big hug. There were tears in Gordy's eyes when he pulled away. Frank could feel his eyes get full to where a warm tear would drop at any moment. This was new to Frank after all he was a tough soldier and did not really like little kids but Gordy grew on him. Frank grabbed his duffle bag and departed making sure Mary did not see his weakness. A tear slipped down his cheek as he stepped onto the station platform. He wiped his eyes with his hankerchief, then moved so he could wave goodbye through the window. Mary sat holding Colleen as she looked out at Frank. Gordy stood peeking over the windowsill. He was crying softly with his hand against the window reaching out towards Frank. Frank could see tears in Mary's eyes as she waved. A tear or two broke from his eyes as the Conductor yelled "Allll Aboooard!"
He stood the for a moment watching the train depart. As it crossed the bridge over the South Saskatchewan River, Frank heard someone calling
"FRANK, FRANK." Frank turned. It was his brother Charlie. Frank quickly wiped his eyes.
Book Review sent to Winghill Writing School
Book Review
Dark Harbor (A Stone Barrington Novel) by Stuart Woods
This novel continues with the usual cast of main characters created by Stuart Woods. The characters make serial appearances but each novel is a stand-alone story.
The three main characters are Stone Barrington, Holly Barker, and Dino Bacchetti. Stone is a lawyer, an ex-cop, and a sometime CIA agent contract operator. Holly was a military police officer and a recently retired police chief from Florida. Dino is detective with the New York Police Department. They are all fast friends but Holly and Stone have a special ongoing added closeness. Another close friend is Lance a CIA operative and Deputy Director.
In this story, a call summons Stone to an island in Maine; his cousin Dick Stone and his family were murdered in their home and Stone declared the executor of the estate. On the surface, it looked like a murder/suicide and was declared such by the state police and coroner. Stone has a different idea, to him the angle of the shot into Dick Stones temple was too difficult to accomplish alone and victim’s will was recently changed. The bulk of the estate went to a charity but Stone inherited the use of Dick’s house and property into perpetuity. This left Dick’s brother, Caleb Stone, and his family with only a small life insurance policy payout. This resulted in a tense situation when they found Stone moved into the house they expected to inherit and move into. Dick had twin sons, Enos and Eben, who were somewhat wild but reined in by their father, none are happy with Stone’s intrusion.
Dick was known to be a in the diplomatic service but a secret office in the house revealed that he was a long serving CIA operative. Stone called in his friends to help him find out the whole truth and find the real killer or killers. It seemed more like a professional hit and linked to Dick’s CIA career, but more murders happened on the island and a teenage girl was raped and murdered. A couple of the murders had similar signatures but others could not be linked in any way. Why would two teenage girls be murdered, both were friends and one was Dick Stone’s daughter?
Stone and his friends chased down the obvious to no avail. They could not find any connection to Dick’s CIA work. The teenage girl’s diary had gone missing which did not mean a lot until the diary of Stone’s niece was stolen. Stone came across the diary and placed it in Dick’s safe without reading it. Stone came home one day to find the entire safe ripped out and stolen. Later it is found in the water at the boatshed where the thief accidently dropped it. Stone retrieves the safe and asks a friend to dry out the diary carefully and see what was in it that would lead to its theft. In it she found cryptic references to X, Y, and Z. Stone decided to follow the weakest of clues to see what would happen and uncovered other unsolved murders had happened on the mainland over the last few years.
He decided to see if his twin nephews were connected with the murders. It was a far stretch for him with so little to work on. He did not know his nephews or Dick Stone well having only spent a short time with them one summer. Stone thought that X, Y, Z in the diary may be a reference to the twins and their nefarious activities, the twins were known to be a little wild. A motive for the killings appeared. As Stone got closer to the linking the twins to some of the murders, he realized that Dick had been covering up for them; then, suddenly Holly Barker disappeared. The summer occupants to the island all left for the season and only the few permanent residents remained.
Lance, Stone’s CIA friend, had satellite thermal imaging employed in the search for Holly. Eventually, Stone was able to connect the twins with the murders and found Caleb covering up for them and holding Holly. Holly offered Caleb one point two million dollars for her freedom and won her release. Stone and his team defeated the twins alibi’s and the story came to rapid conclusion with the boys murdering their own father and Stone stopping them as they were about to take off in a small private plane. They were heading to South America. Stone stopped them propeller to propeller.
I have read other Stone Barrington novels. Stuart Woods writing is easy to read. His characters are endearing and well as enduring. The stories are well developed and each can stand alone in the series as the author always repaints his characters in each story. The stories are light and well paced without being bogged down in convoluted suspense. Stuart Woods weaves in some romantic encounters to add warmth.
Dark Harbor (A Stone Barrington Novel) by Stuart Woods
This novel continues with the usual cast of main characters created by Stuart Woods. The characters make serial appearances but each novel is a stand-alone story.
The three main characters are Stone Barrington, Holly Barker, and Dino Bacchetti. Stone is a lawyer, an ex-cop, and a sometime CIA agent contract operator. Holly was a military police officer and a recently retired police chief from Florida. Dino is detective with the New York Police Department. They are all fast friends but Holly and Stone have a special ongoing added closeness. Another close friend is Lance a CIA operative and Deputy Director.
In this story, a call summons Stone to an island in Maine; his cousin Dick Stone and his family were murdered in their home and Stone declared the executor of the estate. On the surface, it looked like a murder/suicide and was declared such by the state police and coroner. Stone has a different idea, to him the angle of the shot into Dick Stones temple was too difficult to accomplish alone and victim’s will was recently changed. The bulk of the estate went to a charity but Stone inherited the use of Dick’s house and property into perpetuity. This left Dick’s brother, Caleb Stone, and his family with only a small life insurance policy payout. This resulted in a tense situation when they found Stone moved into the house they expected to inherit and move into. Dick had twin sons, Enos and Eben, who were somewhat wild but reined in by their father, none are happy with Stone’s intrusion.
Dick was known to be a in the diplomatic service but a secret office in the house revealed that he was a long serving CIA operative. Stone called in his friends to help him find out the whole truth and find the real killer or killers. It seemed more like a professional hit and linked to Dick’s CIA career, but more murders happened on the island and a teenage girl was raped and murdered. A couple of the murders had similar signatures but others could not be linked in any way. Why would two teenage girls be murdered, both were friends and one was Dick Stone’s daughter?
Stone and his friends chased down the obvious to no avail. They could not find any connection to Dick’s CIA work. The teenage girl’s diary had gone missing which did not mean a lot until the diary of Stone’s niece was stolen. Stone came across the diary and placed it in Dick’s safe without reading it. Stone came home one day to find the entire safe ripped out and stolen. Later it is found in the water at the boatshed where the thief accidently dropped it. Stone retrieves the safe and asks a friend to dry out the diary carefully and see what was in it that would lead to its theft. In it she found cryptic references to X, Y, and Z. Stone decided to follow the weakest of clues to see what would happen and uncovered other unsolved murders had happened on the mainland over the last few years.
He decided to see if his twin nephews were connected with the murders. It was a far stretch for him with so little to work on. He did not know his nephews or Dick Stone well having only spent a short time with them one summer. Stone thought that X, Y, Z in the diary may be a reference to the twins and their nefarious activities, the twins were known to be a little wild. A motive for the killings appeared. As Stone got closer to the linking the twins to some of the murders, he realized that Dick had been covering up for them; then, suddenly Holly Barker disappeared. The summer occupants to the island all left for the season and only the few permanent residents remained.
Lance, Stone’s CIA friend, had satellite thermal imaging employed in the search for Holly. Eventually, Stone was able to connect the twins with the murders and found Caleb covering up for them and holding Holly. Holly offered Caleb one point two million dollars for her freedom and won her release. Stone and his team defeated the twins alibi’s and the story came to rapid conclusion with the boys murdering their own father and Stone stopping them as they were about to take off in a small private plane. They were heading to South America. Stone stopped them propeller to propeller.
I have read other Stone Barrington novels. Stuart Woods writing is easy to read. His characters are endearing and well as enduring. The stories are well developed and each can stand alone in the series as the author always repaints his characters in each story. The stories are light and well paced without being bogged down in convoluted suspense. Stuart Woods weaves in some romantic encounters to add warmth.
Chapter Postings
As a reminder, the chapter postings are early drafts and less than perfect works but the story is there if you can read past the imperfections.
I post the chapters so you can see my evolution as a developing writer. I think I am improving the more I write. I feel that I am.
I post the chapters so you can see my evolution as a developing writer. I think I am improving the more I write. I feel that I am.
Writing School Assignment # 13
I sent in Assignment #13 to Winghill Writing School.
I have seven more to complete.
This assignment contained a book review of a novel in the same genre of my story and Chapter 2 of The Motel Keys.
This is my first fiction novel. Chapter 1 is posted previously. Chapter 2 posted today.
I have seven more to complete.
This assignment contained a book review of a novel in the same genre of my story and Chapter 2 of The Motel Keys.
This is my first fiction novel. Chapter 1 is posted previously. Chapter 2 posted today.
Picture of My Work Station
There is a window to my right so I do not get cabin fever from long hours of writing.
Snow Day Pictures
It is snowing today but too late for a white Christmas.
These are views from our apartment balcony in Chilliwack. The ridge and mountains are obscured by the overcast. Rain is coming and will take the snow away in a day or so.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Exercise Machine 4
Well, I think I finally got it figured out. I make it go by varying the possible exercises until I have done at least a half-hour each day and a half-hour twice a day would be even better.
Sweating and puffing are the indicators that I am doing something right. Sleeping on the thing didn't do much.
I got a long way to go, up to 70 pounds. I have been a chubby guy for a long time.
No wonder I huff and puff when I get off my recliner after watching TV all day and constantly snacking.
Where is that vibrator belt that does all the work for me?
Really, seriously, I am trying to discipline myself to exercise regularly. I am not really a couch potato but I am not as active as I should be. I have been doing better at watching what I eat.
So, my New Year's Resolution is to do better at exercising and eating this coming year.
Sweating and puffing are the indicators that I am doing something right. Sleeping on the thing didn't do much.
I got a long way to go, up to 70 pounds. I have been a chubby guy for a long time.
No wonder I huff and puff when I get off my recliner after watching TV all day and constantly snacking.
Where is that vibrator belt that does all the work for me?
Really, seriously, I am trying to discipline myself to exercise regularly. I am not really a couch potato but I am not as active as I should be. I have been doing better at watching what I eat.
So, my New Year's Resolution is to do better at exercising and eating this coming year.
Posts of imperfect writings
As mentioned before, I am a new writer.
My offerings on this blog site are not finished works and do require more editing and re-writing. They are offered as samplings from a beginner writer,hopefully, evolving into a better writer.
I would love to have a professional editor but the costs are prohibitive so I must rely on family and friends to help, though I have no recompense to offer them.
My offerings on this blog site are not finished works and do require more editing and re-writing. They are offered as samplings from a beginner writer,hopefully, evolving into a better writer.
I would love to have a professional editor but the costs are prohibitive so I must rely on family and friends to help, though I have no recompense to offer them.
Fixing errors in writing
My friend, Ken, in New Zealand informed me of an error in one of my story posts on this blog.
In Tommy Bledzing Adventures in New Zealand, I mentioned squirrels in the bit about The Groynes.
Ken kindly reminded me that there are no squirrels in New Zealand.
I corrected the error.
Thanks Ken.
In Tommy Bledzing Adventures in New Zealand, I mentioned squirrels in the bit about The Groynes.
Ken kindly reminded me that there are no squirrels in New Zealand.
I corrected the error.
Thanks Ken.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Film to digital
I recently found that scanners will now scan film negatives and slides. The results are not as good as digital camera photos but they are adequate. I spent the day scanning while I was writing. I have a ways to go. In the end my negatives will all be digital,then I can give each of my sons CDs containing pictures of our lives together.
I haven't seen some of this stuff in years.
I am using an Epson 4490 Photo scanner. I do not know how it compares with the others. I get results I can live with.
My previous scanner's software would not work with Vista and there was no upgrade available. It did a poor job of negatives. It's old.
It is amazing how technology advances in a few short years.
I haven't seen some of this stuff in years.
I am using an Epson 4490 Photo scanner. I do not know how it compares with the others. I get results I can live with.
My previous scanner's software would not work with Vista and there was no upgrade available. It did a poor job of negatives. It's old.
It is amazing how technology advances in a few short years.
Day of writing
I spent the day writing. I finished hand-writing my short story, The Barkerville Bank Robbery. Chapter one is posted below.
This is Cornelia Barkman's first case as a private investigator.
She solves the case, of course.
This is Cornelia Barkman's first case as a private investigator.
She solves the case, of course.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Wrote a shortie story
I wrote a shortie story and submitted it to a magazine editor for publishing in their magazine. She said she would put it in a coming issue.
Wow, my first published work.
Wow, my first published work.
Exercise Machine 3
Well after a week of stumbling around the machine and not finding the motor. I figured I was the one to make it go.
I don't have the instructions. How hard can it be?
I pulled the pulley cable thingies; that weren't so bad, so I did it a few times and was soon sweating and getting lightheaded.
So I turned around and used the wing bar with my legs and had the same result, puffing, sweating and lightheadedness.
The machine was at its lowest setting.
After much rest, I think I am ready to do more than two reps for the two exercises.
At this rate, I'll soon be fit. Woo-hoo.
I don't have the instructions. How hard can it be?
I pulled the pulley cable thingies; that weren't so bad, so I did it a few times and was soon sweating and getting lightheaded.
So I turned around and used the wing bar with my legs and had the same result, puffing, sweating and lightheadedness.
The machine was at its lowest setting.
After much rest, I think I am ready to do more than two reps for the two exercises.
At this rate, I'll soon be fit. Woo-hoo.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Tommy Bledzing Adventures Around New Zealand - Book 1
Tommy Bledzing
Adventures around New Zealand
By Norman D. W. MacDonald
A fictional story derived from Norm's memories of Christchurch and New Zealand.
Protected by author copyright. All rights reserved.
A less-than-perfect version. There is editing and rewriting to do.
The series is intended for younger readers, so they can read about New Zealand.
Echo Dawn Media
Book One
Hi Readers,
I'm Tommy Bledzing. I'm twelve years old and I live in Christchurch, New Zealand. I was born in 1961. I am writing about some of my adventures in and around Christchurch, and New Zealand.
I broke my leg on one of my adventures and am laid up. I had lots of time on my hands while in the hospital and now at home while my leg mends so I decided to write a journal of my adventures.
My adventures outside my neighbourhood started when I was ten years old. I didn't tell my parents about some of these adventures because I was not supposed to leave the neighbourhood. But, I got to tell you, I have trouble resisting an open street or an open road. I always wonder where it will take me and what I'll see when I go down that street or road.
I have a push-bike and I am only supposed to ride around my neighbourhood, but after I became ten years old I started venturing beyond the neighbourhood, a little more each time. Our house is on Neville Street in Spreydon. It's only a mile or so from downtown.
With the family, I had been around much of Christchurch and to the ocean beaches so I knew what there was in the area. But, venturing off by myself makes the ordinary seem more adventurous.
We have a nice section. A full-size grass tennis court is beside the house. The section is full of bushes and trees which make it private from the neighbours and the street. A row of bushes separates the tennis court from the large garden in the rear. There are many flower beds spread all over. My mother loves flowers. A long driveway goes down the left side of the house to the garage behind the house. It is a lovely yard and I love it, but the world beyond beckons my adventurous spirit.
As you read, you will learn about New Zealand. So, please join me on my adventures.
About New Zealand
New Zealand is in the Southern Hemisphere in the South Pacific Ocean and is close to Australia. New Zealand has two large islands and a few smaller islands.
The North Island is the smaller of the two and has most of the population. The Maori are the native people. The North Island was formed mostly by volcanic activity and there are still many active volcanoes. The island is rugged with many hills and mountains.
The British made New Zealand a colony hundreds years ago. New Zealand is an independent country now, but still has close ties to Britain.
The South Island is long and narrow. There are some Maori people but it is mostly populated by people of English ancestry. My family is English. The Southern Alps are long range of mountains that runs north and south the full length of the island. The eastern side of the South Island has a long stretch of flat land between the Pacific Ocean and the mountains. It is called the Canterbury Plains.
The city of Christchurch lies about halfway down the east coast of the South Island. It is on the northern part of the Canterbury Plains, so most of Christchurch is on very flat. To the southeast of Christchurch is the Banks Peninsula. It was formed by a group of volcanoes that are now extinct. It is full of hills and mountains. Two collapsed craters make two large natural harbours. The harbour for Christchurch is Lyttleton Harbour and is separated from Christchurch by the Port Hills. The Port Hills rise as high as fifteen hundred feet. The other harbour is Akaroa Harbour farther southeast of Christchurch. The southeast boundary of Christchurch is on the lower part of the Port Hills. The Port Hills are seen clearly from all parts of Christchurch.
Christchurch is often called "The most English City outside England." It is also called "The Garden City". There is a strong British influence in Christchurch.
Being mostly flat, makes Christchurch a cyclist’s paradise. We have many push-bikes and motor scooters. Motorcars are expensive in New Zealand.
First Adventure Alone - Hagley Park
My first trip out of the neighbourhood by myself is to Hagley Park. It is a very large park almost dead centre in Christchurch. It was a warm Saturday morning and I just had to get out of the neighbourhood.
To get to Hagley Park, I rode my push-bike on the footpath beside Lincoln Road to where I had to cross Moorhouse Avenue. Both streets are very busy with traffic, and I was not supposed to be anywhere near them. Moorhouse Avenue is a very busy four lane street. I was a little scared but I was careful enough to cross with the traffic lights and push my push-bike across the crosswalks. I had been to the park with the family but this was the first time on my own; somehow, it felt very different. For one thing, I'd be in big trouble for going there by myself. I am only ten years old.
I got into the park safely. A very large lawn stretched out before me and there are many large trees. I rode around. This park of the park has many cricket pitches and there were games in progress. I watched the games for a while. The players are all dressed in white. It is exciting to watch the bowler pitch and when the batsman hits the ball the whole field erupts in excitement.
I left the games and rode inside the park but close to the streets bordering the park. I rode beside Moorhouse Avenue it turned onto Deans Avenue. I followed. Within a short distance I came to the traffic roundabout for Blenheim Road. I had been in the motorcar as my father drove around them, but this was the first time seeing one from the outside. I was fascinated. The motorcars just drive into the roundabout and drive out onto the street they want. They seemed to drive fast and I was surprised that they didn't bang into each other.
I watched for a while then continued ride the footpath under the huge trees bordering large lawns. some families were having picnics on the grass and there were many people walking about and many cyclists riding around the park.
After a while, I came to the Riccarton Road traffic roundabout. It was really busy. I watched for a few minutes then turned to follow Riccarton Avenue through the park. I certainly was not going to cross it. It was a long ride to the corner where Ricarrton Avenue entered the park. Many streets met at this corner; Riccarton Avenue, Tuam Street, Oxford Terrace, and Hagley Avenue.
The huge Christchurch Public Hospital was across the road. I stood watching through the busy traffic of Riccarton Avenue. Big red city buses stopped on the street outside the hospital and moved on. I stood right across the road from Casualty. I saw an ambulance come in with its siren wailing. I was so excited. It drove into a portal between two old buildings. I could just see part of what was happening. I saw the litter being pushed into Casualty.
Christchurch Public Hospital dominated the corner. The old buildings were right against the footpath beside Ricarrton Avenue. They almost created a solid wall of buildings three and four floors high. To the left is a seven storey white building that was the nurses residence; next that, is an old brick chapel, behind that some ward buildings. Most of the patient ward buildings are behind the office buildings that are along Riccarton Avenue and i could not see them. There are some portal or entrances from Riccarton Avenue that enter into the hospital. The buildings are old, many of them from the early 1900s.
One of the oldest buildings is along Oxford Terrace. It is an old red brick building of two and three floors with a black tile roof. My mother said it was the old residence for nurses. She said some students still stayed there. A high wrought iron fence closed in a courtyard carpark for the residence. A newer building at the end, I was told, was the administration office. I could not see much of it because of high bushes. Beside that building a bridge crossed the Avon River.
I had been away from home for a couple of hours, so I had better get on home. I pedalled fast inside the park next to Hagley Avenue back to the Moorhouse Avenue corner. I crossed with the lights, again walking my push-bike across. I rode as fast as I could to get back to my neighbourhood where I was supposed to be. As I turned onto Neville Street, I met Brian, my friend. He knew I had been out of the neighbourhood. I swore him to secrecy if I told him where I had gone. He was ten like me, and was not supposed to leave the neighbourhood either.
Fortunately , my parents were used to me being gone for a couple of hours so they did not ask where I had been. Brian and I had some juice and a biscuit each and went into the yard to play.
The Big Airplane
In 1971, the biggest passenger airplane in the world came to Christchurch. I just had to go and see it. It came in December just before school let out for the summer. My eleventh birthday was coming in a few months.
I just had to see the airplane. I went to school for roll call and then nipped out on the first break. Being the end of the school year things were more relaxed and I was pretty sure that no one would pay much attention to my disappearance. I hoped.
I had been to the airport with my family so I knew how to get there; I just hadn't done it on a push-bike before.
I went the same way I took to Hagley Park; only this time I crossed Riccarton Avenue. Boy is it busy. I ran across pushing my push-bike trough a gap in the traffic. There was a crosswalk over by the hospital but it was too far out of the way.
I followed Deans Avenue on the footpath in the park. This part of Hagley Park has the golf links. I came to the Fendalton Road intersection; it had traffic lights, to my relief. Fentalton Road passes through an older section of Christchurch. There are a lot of stores and business along the first part of the road. Then it goes past lots of houses. Fendalton Road leads onto Memorial Avenue that heads straight to the airport.
Memorial Avenue is a wide four lane street that has goes through a newer residential area. The area is wide open because the trees are much smaller. The houses look very modern compared to the older ones in Fendalton. Memorial Avenue is lined with trees. It is a straight flat right to the airport. I could just make out the airport in the distance as I rode down Memorial Avenue. The terminal building got bigger and bigger the closer I came. I could see airplanes flying in and out. As I got closer, I could hear the whine of the jet engines. It was thrilling. I pedaled harder to get there faster.
The terminal building has a viewing area on the roof to the right of the control tower. I parked my push-bike at the under the stairway and ran up the stairs. The big plane gradually came in view as I crossed the roof. The tail of the plane was higher than the roof. As I got close to the railing, the airplane looked enormous. It was much bigger than any other airplane at the airport. It was gleaming white in the bright sunshine. People were walking around under the airplane and they looked so tiny next to it. The rooftop viewing area became crowded quickly so I went down stairs and into the terminal. I saw a signboard about the airplane. It was the new Boeing 747. The information was staggering. It was bigger than houses and tall. The cockpit was way above the ground. I couldn't see how they could even see the ground being so far up.
The terminal was crowded but I did get over by a window and looked at the airplane from ground level. It was huge. I read that the airplane was leaving at twelve o'clock. The terminal and the viewing ware were really crowded. Lots of people wanted to see this big airplane.
I hoped my father was still at work. I didn't want to run into him here.
I decided to ride my bike to get close to the end of the runway so I could watch the airplane take off. I rode my push-bike beside Johns Road. I found a small road that ran along the airport fence and went past the end of the runway. I stopped at the fence and could see straight down the runway. The end of the runway was not very far from me. I stood there looking. The heat shimmered off the tarseal of the runway.
I thought that I'd get a good view of the airplane either way. If it was taking off from this end I could see it close up; if it took off from the other end it would fly right over me. I was by myself until a motorcar stopped down the road.
I waited and waited; I was hot and thirsty. The far end of the runway was hidden in the shimmering heat. I could see something moving but it wasn't clear. I heard a noise that started getting louder and louder. A dust cloud rose in the distance and the shimmering got more confused. The roaring noise got louder and a white round thing poked out of the shimmering light that parted even more; the plane came out as if passing through a curtain. The roar was really louder and getting louder. The airplane got bigger and bigger the ground shook and dust flew everywhere. The plane just kept heading straight towards me. I suddenly got scared; it was not going to leave the ground.
This huge thing was rushing right at me, followed by an enormous dust cloud, then the nose slowly lifted and the plane tilted up. The multitude of wheels left the ground row by row. I could see everyone. The noise was incredible. The plane passed right over my head. I didn't think it was even fifty feet above me. I looked at its belly with the wheels hanging down; it seemed to hang there and not move for a moment. I thought it was going to come down on top of me. I reached for my push-bike. The roar got extremely loud even though I had my hands over my ears. I could see the fire in the engines as it went past and a strong blast of hot air blew at me and the dust cloud swirled all around me, as I watched the wheels lift into the plane's belly. It didn't take long before it became a tiny speck and disappeared.
I was fascinated. The airplane was huge and the noise was incredible. It was a thrill to be there to see it.
The Groynes
See a picture of The Groynes at the bottom of the blog site.
Another day that summer, I ventured past the airport. I had seen on a map a place called The Groynes. I asked my father about it, he said he thought it was some kind of park. He had never been there. I asked if we could go there; he said maybe sometime.
I was curious; it was not far past the airport. I determined in my mind that I was going to go there. I asked my friend Brian if he wanted to go.
So far my parents hadn't heard about my skipping school and going to see the big plane. I was excited about it but I couldn't talk about what I had done. The Wednesday edition of the Christchurch Star ran a big story about the big airplane's visit. After reading the article, I could freely talk about the airplane. I had to be careful to stick close to the story in the paper. It wouldn't do to reveal too much and have my parents find out I was actually there.
Anyway, it is the same route to get to The Groynes as to the airport, except The Groynes is a mile or so farther on Johns Road.
I talked it over with Brian and he wanted but was scared if his parents found out. We worked on a couple of stories. We would hint to my parents I was hanging out at his house to do something and he would hint to his parents that he would be at my house. We suggested we would be at each others house three or four hours. Our parents knew each other but were not friends so the likelihood of them discussing our activities together was slim.
Our alibi set, we planned the day to do the trip on. Brian had never been out of the neigbourhood on his push-bike before. He was fascinated by my airport trip.
We chose to go on a Sunday because there would be less traffic. The day came and we loaded a small backpack with some water and some biscuits. I led the way to Moorhouse Avenue, Brian was scared to cross the busy street but I encouraged him and got him across. He loved Hagley Park. He had never been in this part of the park. We rode on the footpath to Riccarton Avenue and waited for a break in traffic before running across pushing our push-bikes. We rode past the golf links to the Fendalton Road intersection.
Fendalton is normally a busy shopping area but being Sunday there was no shopping allowed. Brian loved it when we got onto the footpath beside Memorial Avenue. The area was new and more open than the neighbourhoods we passed through. He really enjoyed the airport.
I took him on the viewing roof and told him where the big plane was and tried to describe it to him. We didn't stay long because we wanted to get to The Groynes. I showed him the spot at the end of the runway where I watched the plane fly over my head.
Another mile or so on Johns Road, we came to Groynes Road and turned left. Down the road a few hundred feet was a large grove of trees. We had new energy and pedalled fast to see who would make it there first. Brian got out ahead of me and beat me into the park. We had been out in the hot sun for over an hour and were feeling really hot and sweaty. In the grove of trees we found a small lake with large weeping willow trees dipping their branches into the water. We were the only ones around, so the place was really quiet. Water fowl were swimming about on the tranquil water. Birds chirped and flew among the trees.
It was so peaceful, we kept quiet and laid down on the grass by the lake to rest. There were so many big trees that only parts of the sky could be seen. The park was shady and cool, and so quiet, no traffic noise. Even the sound off airplanes taking off was muffled. I fell asleep and I think Brian did too.
I woke totally relaxed. When I got up, Brian got up as well. We stood and looked around. A family arrived by motorcar and were setting up a picnic at one of the tables. Another motorcar came in and drove around then left. Brian I watched the waterfowl, geese and ducks, paddling across the still water. Close to shore weeds are in the water in some spots. There were not many insects. We walked slowly along the shore to the right. A little point of land juts out into the water. The shore has cement cylinders standing in the water. The cylinders are about three feet in diameter and give a clean line at the water edge. I couldn't see the bottom at this spot. On a warm day like it was it was tempting to go for a swim, but we weren't sure if the water was safe.
We wandered around walking the shore of the small lake. We skipped some rocks. It was so quiet and relaxing, we didn't want to leave. But, it was time to head back home before our parents started looking for us.
We followed the same route back home. It was much easier on a Sunday because there was so little traffic.
We stopped at Brian's house first. His mother did ask what we had been doing and we weren't going to tell. Brian got a cold drink from the fridge for us and grabbed a couple of biscuits.
I hung out for a while and then went home. My mother asked how it was at Brian's. I told her it was good without going into detail. I was relieved when she didn't ask for more detail.
My second adventure out of the neighbourhood went well. I was pleased with myself, though I know I shouldn't hide stuff like that from my parents.
I'll be eleven soon and I am so tired of just being in the neighbourhood; I know it inside and out. I want some adventure.
Every year Dad tries to take us on a motor trip for a week or two. As a family, we go to the beaches and over to Lyttleton. We even drove the Summit Road on the Port Hills a couple of times. It is great because you can look down and see the whole city of Christchurch spread out below. At night with the lights on, the city sparkles.
These things are fun, but I still want to get out on my own. I am curious about what's out past what I can see.
Adventures around New Zealand
By Norman D. W. MacDonald
A fictional story derived from Norm's memories of Christchurch and New Zealand.
Protected by author copyright. All rights reserved.
A less-than-perfect version. There is editing and rewriting to do.
The series is intended for younger readers, so they can read about New Zealand.
Echo Dawn Media
Book One
Hi Readers,
I'm Tommy Bledzing. I'm twelve years old and I live in Christchurch, New Zealand. I was born in 1961. I am writing about some of my adventures in and around Christchurch, and New Zealand.
I broke my leg on one of my adventures and am laid up. I had lots of time on my hands while in the hospital and now at home while my leg mends so I decided to write a journal of my adventures.
My adventures outside my neighbourhood started when I was ten years old. I didn't tell my parents about some of these adventures because I was not supposed to leave the neighbourhood. But, I got to tell you, I have trouble resisting an open street or an open road. I always wonder where it will take me and what I'll see when I go down that street or road.
I have a push-bike and I am only supposed to ride around my neighbourhood, but after I became ten years old I started venturing beyond the neighbourhood, a little more each time. Our house is on Neville Street in Spreydon. It's only a mile or so from downtown.
With the family, I had been around much of Christchurch and to the ocean beaches so I knew what there was in the area. But, venturing off by myself makes the ordinary seem more adventurous.
We have a nice section. A full-size grass tennis court is beside the house. The section is full of bushes and trees which make it private from the neighbours and the street. A row of bushes separates the tennis court from the large garden in the rear. There are many flower beds spread all over. My mother loves flowers. A long driveway goes down the left side of the house to the garage behind the house. It is a lovely yard and I love it, but the world beyond beckons my adventurous spirit.
As you read, you will learn about New Zealand. So, please join me on my adventures.
About New Zealand
New Zealand is in the Southern Hemisphere in the South Pacific Ocean and is close to Australia. New Zealand has two large islands and a few smaller islands.
The North Island is the smaller of the two and has most of the population. The Maori are the native people. The North Island was formed mostly by volcanic activity and there are still many active volcanoes. The island is rugged with many hills and mountains.
The British made New Zealand a colony hundreds years ago. New Zealand is an independent country now, but still has close ties to Britain.
The South Island is long and narrow. There are some Maori people but it is mostly populated by people of English ancestry. My family is English. The Southern Alps are long range of mountains that runs north and south the full length of the island. The eastern side of the South Island has a long stretch of flat land between the Pacific Ocean and the mountains. It is called the Canterbury Plains.
The city of Christchurch lies about halfway down the east coast of the South Island. It is on the northern part of the Canterbury Plains, so most of Christchurch is on very flat. To the southeast of Christchurch is the Banks Peninsula. It was formed by a group of volcanoes that are now extinct. It is full of hills and mountains. Two collapsed craters make two large natural harbours. The harbour for Christchurch is Lyttleton Harbour and is separated from Christchurch by the Port Hills. The Port Hills rise as high as fifteen hundred feet. The other harbour is Akaroa Harbour farther southeast of Christchurch. The southeast boundary of Christchurch is on the lower part of the Port Hills. The Port Hills are seen clearly from all parts of Christchurch.
Christchurch is often called "The most English City outside England." It is also called "The Garden City". There is a strong British influence in Christchurch.
Being mostly flat, makes Christchurch a cyclist’s paradise. We have many push-bikes and motor scooters. Motorcars are expensive in New Zealand.
First Adventure Alone - Hagley Park
My first trip out of the neighbourhood by myself is to Hagley Park. It is a very large park almost dead centre in Christchurch. It was a warm Saturday morning and I just had to get out of the neighbourhood.
To get to Hagley Park, I rode my push-bike on the footpath beside Lincoln Road to where I had to cross Moorhouse Avenue. Both streets are very busy with traffic, and I was not supposed to be anywhere near them. Moorhouse Avenue is a very busy four lane street. I was a little scared but I was careful enough to cross with the traffic lights and push my push-bike across the crosswalks. I had been to the park with the family but this was the first time on my own; somehow, it felt very different. For one thing, I'd be in big trouble for going there by myself. I am only ten years old.
I got into the park safely. A very large lawn stretched out before me and there are many large trees. I rode around. This park of the park has many cricket pitches and there were games in progress. I watched the games for a while. The players are all dressed in white. It is exciting to watch the bowler pitch and when the batsman hits the ball the whole field erupts in excitement.
I left the games and rode inside the park but close to the streets bordering the park. I rode beside Moorhouse Avenue it turned onto Deans Avenue. I followed. Within a short distance I came to the traffic roundabout for Blenheim Road. I had been in the motorcar as my father drove around them, but this was the first time seeing one from the outside. I was fascinated. The motorcars just drive into the roundabout and drive out onto the street they want. They seemed to drive fast and I was surprised that they didn't bang into each other.
I watched for a while then continued ride the footpath under the huge trees bordering large lawns. some families were having picnics on the grass and there were many people walking about and many cyclists riding around the park.
After a while, I came to the Riccarton Road traffic roundabout. It was really busy. I watched for a few minutes then turned to follow Riccarton Avenue through the park. I certainly was not going to cross it. It was a long ride to the corner where Ricarrton Avenue entered the park. Many streets met at this corner; Riccarton Avenue, Tuam Street, Oxford Terrace, and Hagley Avenue.
The huge Christchurch Public Hospital was across the road. I stood watching through the busy traffic of Riccarton Avenue. Big red city buses stopped on the street outside the hospital and moved on. I stood right across the road from Casualty. I saw an ambulance come in with its siren wailing. I was so excited. It drove into a portal between two old buildings. I could just see part of what was happening. I saw the litter being pushed into Casualty.
Christchurch Public Hospital dominated the corner. The old buildings were right against the footpath beside Ricarrton Avenue. They almost created a solid wall of buildings three and four floors high. To the left is a seven storey white building that was the nurses residence; next that, is an old brick chapel, behind that some ward buildings. Most of the patient ward buildings are behind the office buildings that are along Riccarton Avenue and i could not see them. There are some portal or entrances from Riccarton Avenue that enter into the hospital. The buildings are old, many of them from the early 1900s.
One of the oldest buildings is along Oxford Terrace. It is an old red brick building of two and three floors with a black tile roof. My mother said it was the old residence for nurses. She said some students still stayed there. A high wrought iron fence closed in a courtyard carpark for the residence. A newer building at the end, I was told, was the administration office. I could not see much of it because of high bushes. Beside that building a bridge crossed the Avon River.
I had been away from home for a couple of hours, so I had better get on home. I pedalled fast inside the park next to Hagley Avenue back to the Moorhouse Avenue corner. I crossed with the lights, again walking my push-bike across. I rode as fast as I could to get back to my neighbourhood where I was supposed to be. As I turned onto Neville Street, I met Brian, my friend. He knew I had been out of the neighbourhood. I swore him to secrecy if I told him where I had gone. He was ten like me, and was not supposed to leave the neighbourhood either.
Fortunately , my parents were used to me being gone for a couple of hours so they did not ask where I had been. Brian and I had some juice and a biscuit each and went into the yard to play.
The Big Airplane
In 1971, the biggest passenger airplane in the world came to Christchurch. I just had to go and see it. It came in December just before school let out for the summer. My eleventh birthday was coming in a few months.
I just had to see the airplane. I went to school for roll call and then nipped out on the first break. Being the end of the school year things were more relaxed and I was pretty sure that no one would pay much attention to my disappearance. I hoped.
I had been to the airport with my family so I knew how to get there; I just hadn't done it on a push-bike before.
I went the same way I took to Hagley Park; only this time I crossed Riccarton Avenue. Boy is it busy. I ran across pushing my push-bike trough a gap in the traffic. There was a crosswalk over by the hospital but it was too far out of the way.
I followed Deans Avenue on the footpath in the park. This part of Hagley Park has the golf links. I came to the Fendalton Road intersection; it had traffic lights, to my relief. Fentalton Road passes through an older section of Christchurch. There are a lot of stores and business along the first part of the road. Then it goes past lots of houses. Fendalton Road leads onto Memorial Avenue that heads straight to the airport.
Memorial Avenue is a wide four lane street that has goes through a newer residential area. The area is wide open because the trees are much smaller. The houses look very modern compared to the older ones in Fendalton. Memorial Avenue is lined with trees. It is a straight flat right to the airport. I could just make out the airport in the distance as I rode down Memorial Avenue. The terminal building got bigger and bigger the closer I came. I could see airplanes flying in and out. As I got closer, I could hear the whine of the jet engines. It was thrilling. I pedaled harder to get there faster.
The terminal building has a viewing area on the roof to the right of the control tower. I parked my push-bike at the under the stairway and ran up the stairs. The big plane gradually came in view as I crossed the roof. The tail of the plane was higher than the roof. As I got close to the railing, the airplane looked enormous. It was much bigger than any other airplane at the airport. It was gleaming white in the bright sunshine. People were walking around under the airplane and they looked so tiny next to it. The rooftop viewing area became crowded quickly so I went down stairs and into the terminal. I saw a signboard about the airplane. It was the new Boeing 747. The information was staggering. It was bigger than houses and tall. The cockpit was way above the ground. I couldn't see how they could even see the ground being so far up.
The terminal was crowded but I did get over by a window and looked at the airplane from ground level. It was huge. I read that the airplane was leaving at twelve o'clock. The terminal and the viewing ware were really crowded. Lots of people wanted to see this big airplane.
I hoped my father was still at work. I didn't want to run into him here.
I decided to ride my bike to get close to the end of the runway so I could watch the airplane take off. I rode my push-bike beside Johns Road. I found a small road that ran along the airport fence and went past the end of the runway. I stopped at the fence and could see straight down the runway. The end of the runway was not very far from me. I stood there looking. The heat shimmered off the tarseal of the runway.
I thought that I'd get a good view of the airplane either way. If it was taking off from this end I could see it close up; if it took off from the other end it would fly right over me. I was by myself until a motorcar stopped down the road.
I waited and waited; I was hot and thirsty. The far end of the runway was hidden in the shimmering heat. I could see something moving but it wasn't clear. I heard a noise that started getting louder and louder. A dust cloud rose in the distance and the shimmering got more confused. The roaring noise got louder and a white round thing poked out of the shimmering light that parted even more; the plane came out as if passing through a curtain. The roar was really louder and getting louder. The airplane got bigger and bigger the ground shook and dust flew everywhere. The plane just kept heading straight towards me. I suddenly got scared; it was not going to leave the ground.
This huge thing was rushing right at me, followed by an enormous dust cloud, then the nose slowly lifted and the plane tilted up. The multitude of wheels left the ground row by row. I could see everyone. The noise was incredible. The plane passed right over my head. I didn't think it was even fifty feet above me. I looked at its belly with the wheels hanging down; it seemed to hang there and not move for a moment. I thought it was going to come down on top of me. I reached for my push-bike. The roar got extremely loud even though I had my hands over my ears. I could see the fire in the engines as it went past and a strong blast of hot air blew at me and the dust cloud swirled all around me, as I watched the wheels lift into the plane's belly. It didn't take long before it became a tiny speck and disappeared.
I was fascinated. The airplane was huge and the noise was incredible. It was a thrill to be there to see it.
The Groynes
See a picture of The Groynes at the bottom of the blog site.
Another day that summer, I ventured past the airport. I had seen on a map a place called The Groynes. I asked my father about it, he said he thought it was some kind of park. He had never been there. I asked if we could go there; he said maybe sometime.
I was curious; it was not far past the airport. I determined in my mind that I was going to go there. I asked my friend Brian if he wanted to go.
So far my parents hadn't heard about my skipping school and going to see the big plane. I was excited about it but I couldn't talk about what I had done. The Wednesday edition of the Christchurch Star ran a big story about the big airplane's visit. After reading the article, I could freely talk about the airplane. I had to be careful to stick close to the story in the paper. It wouldn't do to reveal too much and have my parents find out I was actually there.
Anyway, it is the same route to get to The Groynes as to the airport, except The Groynes is a mile or so farther on Johns Road.
I talked it over with Brian and he wanted but was scared if his parents found out. We worked on a couple of stories. We would hint to my parents I was hanging out at his house to do something and he would hint to his parents that he would be at my house. We suggested we would be at each others house three or four hours. Our parents knew each other but were not friends so the likelihood of them discussing our activities together was slim.
Our alibi set, we planned the day to do the trip on. Brian had never been out of the neigbourhood on his push-bike before. He was fascinated by my airport trip.
We chose to go on a Sunday because there would be less traffic. The day came and we loaded a small backpack with some water and some biscuits. I led the way to Moorhouse Avenue, Brian was scared to cross the busy street but I encouraged him and got him across. He loved Hagley Park. He had never been in this part of the park. We rode on the footpath to Riccarton Avenue and waited for a break in traffic before running across pushing our push-bikes. We rode past the golf links to the Fendalton Road intersection.
Fendalton is normally a busy shopping area but being Sunday there was no shopping allowed. Brian loved it when we got onto the footpath beside Memorial Avenue. The area was new and more open than the neighbourhoods we passed through. He really enjoyed the airport.
I took him on the viewing roof and told him where the big plane was and tried to describe it to him. We didn't stay long because we wanted to get to The Groynes. I showed him the spot at the end of the runway where I watched the plane fly over my head.
Another mile or so on Johns Road, we came to Groynes Road and turned left. Down the road a few hundred feet was a large grove of trees. We had new energy and pedalled fast to see who would make it there first. Brian got out ahead of me and beat me into the park. We had been out in the hot sun for over an hour and were feeling really hot and sweaty. In the grove of trees we found a small lake with large weeping willow trees dipping their branches into the water. We were the only ones around, so the place was really quiet. Water fowl were swimming about on the tranquil water. Birds chirped and flew among the trees.
It was so peaceful, we kept quiet and laid down on the grass by the lake to rest. There were so many big trees that only parts of the sky could be seen. The park was shady and cool, and so quiet, no traffic noise. Even the sound off airplanes taking off was muffled. I fell asleep and I think Brian did too.
I woke totally relaxed. When I got up, Brian got up as well. We stood and looked around. A family arrived by motorcar and were setting up a picnic at one of the tables. Another motorcar came in and drove around then left. Brian I watched the waterfowl, geese and ducks, paddling across the still water. Close to shore weeds are in the water in some spots. There were not many insects. We walked slowly along the shore to the right. A little point of land juts out into the water. The shore has cement cylinders standing in the water. The cylinders are about three feet in diameter and give a clean line at the water edge. I couldn't see the bottom at this spot. On a warm day like it was it was tempting to go for a swim, but we weren't sure if the water was safe.
We wandered around walking the shore of the small lake. We skipped some rocks. It was so quiet and relaxing, we didn't want to leave. But, it was time to head back home before our parents started looking for us.
We followed the same route back home. It was much easier on a Sunday because there was so little traffic.
We stopped at Brian's house first. His mother did ask what we had been doing and we weren't going to tell. Brian got a cold drink from the fridge for us and grabbed a couple of biscuits.
I hung out for a while and then went home. My mother asked how it was at Brian's. I told her it was good without going into detail. I was relieved when she didn't ask for more detail.
My second adventure out of the neighbourhood went well. I was pleased with myself, though I know I shouldn't hide stuff like that from my parents.
I'll be eleven soon and I am so tired of just being in the neighbourhood; I know it inside and out. I want some adventure.
Every year Dad tries to take us on a motor trip for a week or two. As a family, we go to the beaches and over to Lyttleton. We even drove the Summit Road on the Port Hills a couple of times. It is great because you can look down and see the whole city of Christchurch spread out below. At night with the lights on, the city sparkles.
These things are fun, but I still want to get out on my own. I am curious about what's out past what I can see.
The Motel Keys - Chapter 1
The Motel Keys
A fiction story by Norman D. W. MacDonald
All rights reserved. Protected by author copyright.
Echo Dawn Media
The story is finished. There is editing and rewrite work to do.
This is the less-than-perfect version.
Chapter 1
Two young boys straddled their bicycles at Broadway and Fourth basking in the baking sun of southern Alberta on the Canadian Prairies. Both were sandy-haired though twelve-year old Sam tended to be more reddish. Sam was trying to persuade his younger brother, Andy, to follow him to the river. They were forbidden from going anywhere near the river valley alone. Sam’s persistence paid off as it usually does. Andy agreed to go. What they find there shocks the town’s only cop, a young man newly appointed to the job.
“Come on" Sam urged as he tried to get Andy going.
Andy looked at Sam with a troubled look. Sally their sister and guardian told them the river was off limits. There were only a few places in town that they were forbidden to go to by themselves.
"We shouldn't" Andy replied as he straddled his bike and dug his feet in the gravel.
Sam smiled and signaled Andy to come and saying, "It'll be fun."
“I know, but Sally told us not to go down to the river by ourselves." Andy replied.
“Hey. Come on, Andy, we just won't tell her or are you chicken?" Sam put on the tough-guy act. He knew he could get Andy to go.
"But what if she asks?" Andy’s argument got weaker.
"We'll just let her think we were hanging around town." Sam replied with reassuring confidence.
Andy could see that it was no use arguing anymore, Sam was determined, besides he wanted to go anyway; it would be an adventure. Sam being twelve always took the lead and Andy a year younger followed. Andy shrugged and pushed his bike forward and started riding.
Sam jumped on his bike and caught up, "I'll lead."
The river was down on the south side of town. They rarely went to the south side. There was no need because they lived a couple of blocks from the uptown, the schools and the park. They lived close to everything. Sam decided it was best if they were seen around town first so they stopped at their grandfather's grocery store.
"Hello, boys, what are you up to this fine day?" Their grandfather cheerfully greeted them. They loved him.
"We, ah" Andy started but could not get the words out.
Sam interrupted, "Oh, we're just hanging around town not doing much." Sam walked around to the candy counter. "Can we have some Allsorts and orange pop? Sam pulled some coupons out of his pocket. Grandfather let them use coupons to pay for candy when they did not have any money.
"It's a nice day out so enjoy yourselves," Grandfather said as they headed to the door.
Sam turned to go over to Main Street. They rarely went on Main Street so it was unlikely anyone on that street would pay them much attention.
It was about seven blocks to the river road. They rode fast for a couple of blocks then slowed down.
Sam remembered the day he got his bike. His father told him he was getting one and asked Sam to come with him to get pick it up. They walked a couple of blocks to the barbershop. Sam waited outside while his father went in to talk to the barber.
"It's out back," his father said as he came out. Sam followed as they went to the back of the shop to a broken down fence by the alley. Sam couldn't see a bike. His father bent over and started pulling at something in the high weeds. As Sam moved closer, he could see a dirty old black bike tangled up in the weeds. It took some pulling before it came free. Sam was shocked; this was not his idea of getting a bike.
His father said, "It does not look like much now but we'll take it home and clean it up."
Sam noticed the tires were flat and old as he watched his father pull weeds out of the spokes. When done, his father handed the bike over for Sam to push it as they walked back home. The thing creaked and wobbled and it was ugly. Sam felt embarrassed and hoped no one he knew would see them.
At home, they took the bike into the garage and his father started to clean it up and check it over. He got out the hand pump to fill the tires, one tube leaked. His father removed the tube and placed it in a bucket of water to find the leak. Sam watched as his father put on a heat patch. Sam always liked watching a heat patch because the last step was to set it on fire. The heat would dry the glue and set the patch. Sam liked to smell the burning sulphur. His father put the tube back on the wheel and pumped it up. It held the air so he put it back on the bike. Sam noticed a couple of bulges form on the sides of the tire and pointed them out. His father wrapped some black cloth tape around the tire and rim then greased the axles and made sure the wheels turned freely. Next, he oiled the chain until it stopped binding and making noise. Sam had to admit that it did not look so bad now. The cleaned sign plate said the bike was a CCM bike. That was okay with Sam as CCMs were popular.
His father handed the bike over and told Sam to take it for a ride. Sam was happy when he came back because the bike rode well enough. His father said they would get some new tires later.
Andy's bike was in fair condition and came from a neighbor who had bought a bigger bike for their boy. Both bikes were doing well on the ride to the river.
They stopped at the top of the hill for a rest. They could see the flat prairie all around, even across the river valley, which carved a huge gash in the flat landscape.
"You have to be careful going down the hill," Sam said, "There's a bunch of loose gravel so stand up and be ready to step on the brake before you get going too fast."
Andy nodded but he was not too sure about it.
"Ready?" Sam asked, as he got ready to push off.
"Ready." Andy called as he pushed off to follow Sam down the steep hill.
The thick gravel caused the bikes to wobble around and stepping on the brake caused the back wheel to skid, which they did for most of the way down the steepest part. The hill straightened out with a long gentle slope the rest of the way to the pump house beside the river. That part was fun because the gravel was packed down and they could get going fast. The pump house was where Redcliff got its water.
At the pump house, they turned left on the dirt road that led to the woods beside the river a few hundred yards further on. There were a bunch of dirt roads and trails through the huge cottonwood trees and bush. It was not a developed park and that added to the adventure.
They had been there once before when their parents were alive. The area was an unofficial park but not many people went there because there was supposed be a lot of rattlesnakes there. They had never seen any then but their father said they were there. Sam reminded Andy of their father's instructions to make a lot of noise and not to run through the weeds or bush.
Sam led them to the backwash of the river. They were hot from the ride. Splashing and wading cooled them down. They weren't worried about getting wet because their clothes would dry quickly in the hot sun. After cooling down, they rode around on the dirt tracks exploring and even walked on some trails. The river cliffs rose above them like dry ragged fingers reaching towards the river. Redcliff got its name because some of the cliffs had a reddish look while the others were grey.
They raced around on the dirt tracks for a while and had fun chasing each other. There wasn't anybody around so nobody bothered them.
After an hour so Sam decided it was time to leave. "We had better head home now,” he told Andy and led the way. Andy was slower to get going. They were crossing an open area of dry yellow grass. Sam sped along leaving Andy to catch up. About halfway across he heard Andy call him. Sam stopped and looked because Andy sounded afraid.
“S-s-s-Sam, a-a-a snake,” Andy cried as he pointed.
Sam was about fifty feet away but could hear the distinctive ‘sh-sh-sh’ of the rattle. He could see the snake. “Stay still, Andy, don’t move.”
Sam dropped his bike and found a broken branch. Sam walked slowly watching where Andy was pointing. As he got closer, he could see the rattlesnake coiled and flicking its tongue in the air. He moved quietly as he held the branch out in front of him. When he was close enough, he slapped the branch down onto the snake and held it down firmly.
“Back up and get away,” he ordered Andy, “Gooo!” Andy took a moment then started moving pushing his bike backwards at first, and then he turned and ran pushing his bike. Sam gave the branch a hard shove and dropped it as he ran after Andy. They go onto one of the dirt roads. It looked safe so they stopped and caught their breath. Andy was near tears but Sam was exhilarated. He stared down a rattlesnake.
Sam’s bike was where he dropped it but he was not going to back track to get it in case the snake was still there. They walked along the road. It passed close to the open area but was on a lower level. After some distance, Sam judged they were near the opposite end of the grassy open area. He found a path that went through the bushes and up a rise. He figured he could go up and get his bike from there. He told Andy to stay in the middle of the road and watch for snakes while he went for his bike. Sam found another branch and used it to sweep the path through the bush while he made a lot of noise with his voice. Andy watched as Sam disappeared.
After what seemed a long time, Andy heard Sam call to him from above.
Sam wheeled his bike down the steep path but it was difficult. About halfway, he slipped and fell with the bike falling on him. Andy heard the commotion.
“You okay, Sam?” Andy called more scared than he had ever been.
“Yeah, I slipped.” Sam replied as he untangled himself.
That’s when he saw the flash of yellow. It was out of place in the grey dirt. Sam found a stick and poked at the yellow thing stuck in the dirt. He poked harder and dug at the dirt around it until it came loose. With the stick, he got the yellow thing close enough to reach for it. It was a plastic tag, with a key attached. He shoved it in his pocket and grabbed his bike. The place smelled bad and he hurried to get to Andy.
He showed Andy what he found.
"What is it?" Andy asked.
"Some kind of key.”
"What do you think it's for?"
"I'm not sure. We'll ask Sally. We better get going." Sam said as he picked up his bike.
They rode back towards the pump house. They didn't see any more rattlesnakes but there were lots of insects, grasshoppers and birds. It was a tough riding up the slope to get to the steep part of the hill. They would have to walk their bikes up. One car passed them as it went down.
By the time they got to the top of the hill, they were tired hot and dry.
They spotted a sprinkler watering a lawn at one of the houses they were passing. Sam was hot and the water looked inviting.
“Let’s cool off,” Sam said, as he laid his bike down and pointed to the spraying water. The sun was hot. They looked around and saw no one.
The cool water refreshed them as the cavorting in its spray. They were having fun until a loud gruff voice called, “Hey, what do you think you are doing.” The boys stopped dead and saw the man coming out his front door. “You hooligans get away from there.”
Sam grabbed Andy’s hand and bolted for their bikes. They rode off with the man yelling after them. They rode fast for a couple of blocks then started laughing. They were enjoying themselves and a little loud about it.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” The stern voice called from a driveway. Sam noticed three boys heading their way as the biggest boy challenged again, “Whatcha doing here?” Sam recognized the boys. The big was a bully.
Sam turned to Andy, “Let’s go.” He made sure Andy got going before he started. The other boys were running towards him as he got his bike going. Rocks flew at him as he sped away. A couple of rocks him his back. The boys yelled at them until they were over a block away.
When they got back uptown, Sam said, "We'll stop at the coffee shop to get a drink before we go home." By this time, their clothes were dry. The hot Alberta sun dries things quickly.
They took Main Street back uptown and nobody seemed to pay them much attention. On Broadway, they turn to go to the coffee shop.
Sally their older sister ran the coffee shop ever since their parents were killed in an accident a few years ago and Sally looked after them since. They liked Sally but she acted too much like a mother.
"Hi, boys," Sally said cheerfully as they entered the coffee shop. She was smiling because she was happy to see them. Sally was known for her friendly smiles.
"What have you guys been up to?" She asked.
A look-of-fear flashed over Andy's face and he turned towards Sam.
"Oh, nothing we just hung out around town and went to the park. We watched people swimming at the pool for a while," Sam replied, "We're pretty thirsty. Could we have a pop, please?"
"Sure, sit down. What do you want?" Sally asked as she turned to the cooler.
"Coke. You want Coke, Andy?" Andy nodded. The boys slid onto stools at the counter as Sally set the drinks down in front of them and then went to serve other customers. Sam was relieved that she would not be asking them any more questions. He gestured to Andy to hurry up.
As they got up to leave, Sally said, "See you at supper time."
The boys hurried out of the coffee shop and slowly made their way home. If Sally had help at the coffee shop, she would come home to make them supper otherwise they could eat at the coffee shop.
By the time the boys got home, they forgot about the key.
The following Monday was washday. Most families washed on Mondays. Sally gathered all the dirty clothes and started sorting them. Sally carefully checked the pockets. She never knew what she would find in them. The boys often left stuff in their pockets. Her worst fear was finding a Garter snake. She hated snakes. Any hard objects would damage the wringers on the washing machine. As she felt Sam's pants, she felt a hard object and felt around to make sure it wasn't alive before she stuck her hand into the pocket. She reached in and pulled out a large plastic yellow key tag with a key attached. She recognized it as a motel key and turned it over, and over, to examine it. It was dirty and the name was scratched so much that it could not be read.
"Sam, Andy" Sally called out. She wanted to ask the boys about the key.
Calling louder, "Sam, Andy", but she got no reply. Sally went up stairs from the basement to look for the boys. They weren't in the house.
I'll ask them later' she told herself as she returned to doing the wash.
A fiction story by Norman D. W. MacDonald
All rights reserved. Protected by author copyright.
Echo Dawn Media
The story is finished. There is editing and rewrite work to do.
This is the less-than-perfect version.
Chapter 1
Two young boys straddled their bicycles at Broadway and Fourth basking in the baking sun of southern Alberta on the Canadian Prairies. Both were sandy-haired though twelve-year old Sam tended to be more reddish. Sam was trying to persuade his younger brother, Andy, to follow him to the river. They were forbidden from going anywhere near the river valley alone. Sam’s persistence paid off as it usually does. Andy agreed to go. What they find there shocks the town’s only cop, a young man newly appointed to the job.
“Come on" Sam urged as he tried to get Andy going.
Andy looked at Sam with a troubled look. Sally their sister and guardian told them the river was off limits. There were only a few places in town that they were forbidden to go to by themselves.
"We shouldn't" Andy replied as he straddled his bike and dug his feet in the gravel.
Sam smiled and signaled Andy to come and saying, "It'll be fun."
“I know, but Sally told us not to go down to the river by ourselves." Andy replied.
“Hey. Come on, Andy, we just won't tell her or are you chicken?" Sam put on the tough-guy act. He knew he could get Andy to go.
"But what if she asks?" Andy’s argument got weaker.
"We'll just let her think we were hanging around town." Sam replied with reassuring confidence.
Andy could see that it was no use arguing anymore, Sam was determined, besides he wanted to go anyway; it would be an adventure. Sam being twelve always took the lead and Andy a year younger followed. Andy shrugged and pushed his bike forward and started riding.
Sam jumped on his bike and caught up, "I'll lead."
The river was down on the south side of town. They rarely went to the south side. There was no need because they lived a couple of blocks from the uptown, the schools and the park. They lived close to everything. Sam decided it was best if they were seen around town first so they stopped at their grandfather's grocery store.
"Hello, boys, what are you up to this fine day?" Their grandfather cheerfully greeted them. They loved him.
"We, ah" Andy started but could not get the words out.
Sam interrupted, "Oh, we're just hanging around town not doing much." Sam walked around to the candy counter. "Can we have some Allsorts and orange pop? Sam pulled some coupons out of his pocket. Grandfather let them use coupons to pay for candy when they did not have any money.
"It's a nice day out so enjoy yourselves," Grandfather said as they headed to the door.
Sam turned to go over to Main Street. They rarely went on Main Street so it was unlikely anyone on that street would pay them much attention.
It was about seven blocks to the river road. They rode fast for a couple of blocks then slowed down.
Sam remembered the day he got his bike. His father told him he was getting one and asked Sam to come with him to get pick it up. They walked a couple of blocks to the barbershop. Sam waited outside while his father went in to talk to the barber.
"It's out back," his father said as he came out. Sam followed as they went to the back of the shop to a broken down fence by the alley. Sam couldn't see a bike. His father bent over and started pulling at something in the high weeds. As Sam moved closer, he could see a dirty old black bike tangled up in the weeds. It took some pulling before it came free. Sam was shocked; this was not his idea of getting a bike.
His father said, "It does not look like much now but we'll take it home and clean it up."
Sam noticed the tires were flat and old as he watched his father pull weeds out of the spokes. When done, his father handed the bike over for Sam to push it as they walked back home. The thing creaked and wobbled and it was ugly. Sam felt embarrassed and hoped no one he knew would see them.
At home, they took the bike into the garage and his father started to clean it up and check it over. He got out the hand pump to fill the tires, one tube leaked. His father removed the tube and placed it in a bucket of water to find the leak. Sam watched as his father put on a heat patch. Sam always liked watching a heat patch because the last step was to set it on fire. The heat would dry the glue and set the patch. Sam liked to smell the burning sulphur. His father put the tube back on the wheel and pumped it up. It held the air so he put it back on the bike. Sam noticed a couple of bulges form on the sides of the tire and pointed them out. His father wrapped some black cloth tape around the tire and rim then greased the axles and made sure the wheels turned freely. Next, he oiled the chain until it stopped binding and making noise. Sam had to admit that it did not look so bad now. The cleaned sign plate said the bike was a CCM bike. That was okay with Sam as CCMs were popular.
His father handed the bike over and told Sam to take it for a ride. Sam was happy when he came back because the bike rode well enough. His father said they would get some new tires later.
Andy's bike was in fair condition and came from a neighbor who had bought a bigger bike for their boy. Both bikes were doing well on the ride to the river.
They stopped at the top of the hill for a rest. They could see the flat prairie all around, even across the river valley, which carved a huge gash in the flat landscape.
"You have to be careful going down the hill," Sam said, "There's a bunch of loose gravel so stand up and be ready to step on the brake before you get going too fast."
Andy nodded but he was not too sure about it.
"Ready?" Sam asked, as he got ready to push off.
"Ready." Andy called as he pushed off to follow Sam down the steep hill.
The thick gravel caused the bikes to wobble around and stepping on the brake caused the back wheel to skid, which they did for most of the way down the steepest part. The hill straightened out with a long gentle slope the rest of the way to the pump house beside the river. That part was fun because the gravel was packed down and they could get going fast. The pump house was where Redcliff got its water.
At the pump house, they turned left on the dirt road that led to the woods beside the river a few hundred yards further on. There were a bunch of dirt roads and trails through the huge cottonwood trees and bush. It was not a developed park and that added to the adventure.
They had been there once before when their parents were alive. The area was an unofficial park but not many people went there because there was supposed be a lot of rattlesnakes there. They had never seen any then but their father said they were there. Sam reminded Andy of their father's instructions to make a lot of noise and not to run through the weeds or bush.
Sam led them to the backwash of the river. They were hot from the ride. Splashing and wading cooled them down. They weren't worried about getting wet because their clothes would dry quickly in the hot sun. After cooling down, they rode around on the dirt tracks exploring and even walked on some trails. The river cliffs rose above them like dry ragged fingers reaching towards the river. Redcliff got its name because some of the cliffs had a reddish look while the others were grey.
They raced around on the dirt tracks for a while and had fun chasing each other. There wasn't anybody around so nobody bothered them.
After an hour so Sam decided it was time to leave. "We had better head home now,” he told Andy and led the way. Andy was slower to get going. They were crossing an open area of dry yellow grass. Sam sped along leaving Andy to catch up. About halfway across he heard Andy call him. Sam stopped and looked because Andy sounded afraid.
“S-s-s-Sam, a-a-a snake,” Andy cried as he pointed.
Sam was about fifty feet away but could hear the distinctive ‘sh-sh-sh’ of the rattle. He could see the snake. “Stay still, Andy, don’t move.”
Sam dropped his bike and found a broken branch. Sam walked slowly watching where Andy was pointing. As he got closer, he could see the rattlesnake coiled and flicking its tongue in the air. He moved quietly as he held the branch out in front of him. When he was close enough, he slapped the branch down onto the snake and held it down firmly.
“Back up and get away,” he ordered Andy, “Gooo!” Andy took a moment then started moving pushing his bike backwards at first, and then he turned and ran pushing his bike. Sam gave the branch a hard shove and dropped it as he ran after Andy. They go onto one of the dirt roads. It looked safe so they stopped and caught their breath. Andy was near tears but Sam was exhilarated. He stared down a rattlesnake.
Sam’s bike was where he dropped it but he was not going to back track to get it in case the snake was still there. They walked along the road. It passed close to the open area but was on a lower level. After some distance, Sam judged they were near the opposite end of the grassy open area. He found a path that went through the bushes and up a rise. He figured he could go up and get his bike from there. He told Andy to stay in the middle of the road and watch for snakes while he went for his bike. Sam found another branch and used it to sweep the path through the bush while he made a lot of noise with his voice. Andy watched as Sam disappeared.
After what seemed a long time, Andy heard Sam call to him from above.
Sam wheeled his bike down the steep path but it was difficult. About halfway, he slipped and fell with the bike falling on him. Andy heard the commotion.
“You okay, Sam?” Andy called more scared than he had ever been.
“Yeah, I slipped.” Sam replied as he untangled himself.
That’s when he saw the flash of yellow. It was out of place in the grey dirt. Sam found a stick and poked at the yellow thing stuck in the dirt. He poked harder and dug at the dirt around it until it came loose. With the stick, he got the yellow thing close enough to reach for it. It was a plastic tag, with a key attached. He shoved it in his pocket and grabbed his bike. The place smelled bad and he hurried to get to Andy.
He showed Andy what he found.
"What is it?" Andy asked.
"Some kind of key.”
"What do you think it's for?"
"I'm not sure. We'll ask Sally. We better get going." Sam said as he picked up his bike.
They rode back towards the pump house. They didn't see any more rattlesnakes but there were lots of insects, grasshoppers and birds. It was a tough riding up the slope to get to the steep part of the hill. They would have to walk their bikes up. One car passed them as it went down.
By the time they got to the top of the hill, they were tired hot and dry.
They spotted a sprinkler watering a lawn at one of the houses they were passing. Sam was hot and the water looked inviting.
“Let’s cool off,” Sam said, as he laid his bike down and pointed to the spraying water. The sun was hot. They looked around and saw no one.
The cool water refreshed them as the cavorting in its spray. They were having fun until a loud gruff voice called, “Hey, what do you think you are doing.” The boys stopped dead and saw the man coming out his front door. “You hooligans get away from there.”
Sam grabbed Andy’s hand and bolted for their bikes. They rode off with the man yelling after them. They rode fast for a couple of blocks then started laughing. They were enjoying themselves and a little loud about it.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” The stern voice called from a driveway. Sam noticed three boys heading their way as the biggest boy challenged again, “Whatcha doing here?” Sam recognized the boys. The big was a bully.
Sam turned to Andy, “Let’s go.” He made sure Andy got going before he started. The other boys were running towards him as he got his bike going. Rocks flew at him as he sped away. A couple of rocks him his back. The boys yelled at them until they were over a block away.
When they got back uptown, Sam said, "We'll stop at the coffee shop to get a drink before we go home." By this time, their clothes were dry. The hot Alberta sun dries things quickly.
They took Main Street back uptown and nobody seemed to pay them much attention. On Broadway, they turn to go to the coffee shop.
Sally their older sister ran the coffee shop ever since their parents were killed in an accident a few years ago and Sally looked after them since. They liked Sally but she acted too much like a mother.
"Hi, boys," Sally said cheerfully as they entered the coffee shop. She was smiling because she was happy to see them. Sally was known for her friendly smiles.
"What have you guys been up to?" She asked.
A look-of-fear flashed over Andy's face and he turned towards Sam.
"Oh, nothing we just hung out around town and went to the park. We watched people swimming at the pool for a while," Sam replied, "We're pretty thirsty. Could we have a pop, please?"
"Sure, sit down. What do you want?" Sally asked as she turned to the cooler.
"Coke. You want Coke, Andy?" Andy nodded. The boys slid onto stools at the counter as Sally set the drinks down in front of them and then went to serve other customers. Sam was relieved that she would not be asking them any more questions. He gestured to Andy to hurry up.
As they got up to leave, Sally said, "See you at supper time."
The boys hurried out of the coffee shop and slowly made their way home. If Sally had help at the coffee shop, she would come home to make them supper otherwise they could eat at the coffee shop.
By the time the boys got home, they forgot about the key.
The following Monday was washday. Most families washed on Mondays. Sally gathered all the dirty clothes and started sorting them. Sally carefully checked the pockets. She never knew what she would find in them. The boys often left stuff in their pockets. Her worst fear was finding a Garter snake. She hated snakes. Any hard objects would damage the wringers on the washing machine. As she felt Sam's pants, she felt a hard object and felt around to make sure it wasn't alive before she stuck her hand into the pocket. She reached in and pulled out a large plastic yellow key tag with a key attached. She recognized it as a motel key and turned it over, and over, to examine it. It was dirty and the name was scratched so much that it could not be read.
"Sam, Andy" Sally called out. She wanted to ask the boys about the key.
Calling louder, "Sam, Andy", but she got no reply. Sally went up stairs from the basement to look for the boys. They weren't in the house.
I'll ask them later' she told herself as she returned to doing the wash.
What is Echo Dawn Media?
Echo Dawn Media is my vehicle for publishing my works and making them available.
See website: www.echodawnmedia.com
See website: www.echodawnmedia.com
"Been There... Done That..." DVD video slideshow
I made a two disk DVD video slideshow set of local tours done with one or more of my family members, called "Been There... Done That..."
It covers Barkerville, the Le Roi Goldmine in Rossland, the Mascot Goldmine above Hedley, The Chasm on the way to Barkerville, Seattle sights, the Forts on Whidbey Island, Stave Lake Powerhouse,Kilby General Store, Hatzic Rock. The recent KISS concert in Vancouver wraps it up. They are presents for my family.
It covers Barkerville, the Le Roi Goldmine in Rossland, the Mascot Goldmine above Hedley, The Chasm on the way to Barkerville, Seattle sights, the Forts on Whidbey Island, Stave Lake Powerhouse,Kilby General Store, Hatzic Rock. The recent KISS concert in Vancouver wraps it up. They are presents for my family.
The Barkerville Bank Robbery- Chapter 1
A fiction short story by Norman D. W. MacDonald
This is an early draft.
A protected work via Author Copyright. All rights reserved.
Echo Dawn Media.
The story is not written yet. I just have an idea of what to write. You get to read it as each chapter unfolds.
THE BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY
A Cornelia Barkman Case File – Case #0001
Chapter 1
I am getting old. Jenny my daughter is in university. It has been a busy 21 years. Now, it is time to settle down and enjoy retirement with my darling husband. I have been reviewing some of my case files, so I thought I would share some of them with you.
But first, a bit about me. Jenny came along when I was thirty something. When I found out I was pregnant, I was horribly embarrassed because I was unmarried. I had been a police detective for seven years. I always kept my emotions in check and handled my cases with logic and emotional detachment. Getting emotional just clouded my mind, so I stayed cool and in control. It was not all that hard. You see, I am a big woman, not fat but big, I am five-foot eleven and sturdy. I can handle myself and have strong sense of self-worth. I don’t sway easily. Some men feel intimidated by me, though I don’t consciously do it to them unless I need to. I learned at an early age to handle myself.
I have my father and Yoshi Matsumara to thank for that. My father took me camping, hunting and fishing. He taught me about the woods and the wild. Sadly, he died in a plane crash when I was eleven. Yoshi, my sensei, taught me martial arts and his teaching of Aikido defined me.
I was a loner in school. I was more a tomboy than a girly girl, so the other girls couldn’t relate to me. My size scared the boys away. What guy wants to go out with a girl bigger and stronger than them? Martial arts filled the empty gap. Yoshi was like a father to me.
I had one almost serious relationship with a man right after high school. Roger slipped into my life and became my friend. He was murdered just when our relationship was warming up. His death led me into police work. I miss Roger.
When I found I was pregnant, I left the police force and never told anyone why. I was a detective with the RCMP detachment in Nanaimo for almost four years. I returned to Nelson to live with my mother in our large family home. She was not as young as she once was and needed help to care for the house and its lovely gardens. She would be a good support for me and she was thrilled to finally be a grandmother.
I didn’t know where Jenny’s father went and he didn’t know about her. I was too embarrassed to find him and tell him. I decided to go it alone with my mother’s help.
He was a private detective and one our cases crossed paths. We were working at night investigating a case when ‘it’ happened. I don’t know how ‘it’ happened; I barely knew the guy. It was certainly out of character for me. I had never done ‘it’ before or since. Well, not until I got married. Even writing about it after all these years embarrasses me.
Just so, you don’t think I am a horrible person. I loved Jenny from the moment I found out I was pregnant and loved her much more after she was born. After Jenny turned one, her father came to see us. Somehow, he had heard about her. He never told me how he knew and I didn’t ask. A big case had kept him away from Nanaimo and I was gone when he came back. No one knew where I went. He said he missed me, in fact, he said he loved me ever since that moment and wanted to marry me. My cool logical nature did not leap at his proposal. He would have to earn it. We started dating. It took a year until I was sure he was the right man for me and Jenny. Troy and I have been happily married all these years.
We have had a successful private detective agency since getting married.
There you have it, a bit of my history.
Well, let’s get on with my first case as a private detective.
This is an early draft.
A protected work via Author Copyright. All rights reserved.
Echo Dawn Media.
The story is not written yet. I just have an idea of what to write. You get to read it as each chapter unfolds.
THE BARKERVILLE BANK ROBBERY
A Cornelia Barkman Case File – Case #0001
Chapter 1
I am getting old. Jenny my daughter is in university. It has been a busy 21 years. Now, it is time to settle down and enjoy retirement with my darling husband. I have been reviewing some of my case files, so I thought I would share some of them with you.
But first, a bit about me. Jenny came along when I was thirty something. When I found out I was pregnant, I was horribly embarrassed because I was unmarried. I had been a police detective for seven years. I always kept my emotions in check and handled my cases with logic and emotional detachment. Getting emotional just clouded my mind, so I stayed cool and in control. It was not all that hard. You see, I am a big woman, not fat but big, I am five-foot eleven and sturdy. I can handle myself and have strong sense of self-worth. I don’t sway easily. Some men feel intimidated by me, though I don’t consciously do it to them unless I need to. I learned at an early age to handle myself.
I have my father and Yoshi Matsumara to thank for that. My father took me camping, hunting and fishing. He taught me about the woods and the wild. Sadly, he died in a plane crash when I was eleven. Yoshi, my sensei, taught me martial arts and his teaching of Aikido defined me.
I was a loner in school. I was more a tomboy than a girly girl, so the other girls couldn’t relate to me. My size scared the boys away. What guy wants to go out with a girl bigger and stronger than them? Martial arts filled the empty gap. Yoshi was like a father to me.
I had one almost serious relationship with a man right after high school. Roger slipped into my life and became my friend. He was murdered just when our relationship was warming up. His death led me into police work. I miss Roger.
When I found I was pregnant, I left the police force and never told anyone why. I was a detective with the RCMP detachment in Nanaimo for almost four years. I returned to Nelson to live with my mother in our large family home. She was not as young as she once was and needed help to care for the house and its lovely gardens. She would be a good support for me and she was thrilled to finally be a grandmother.
I didn’t know where Jenny’s father went and he didn’t know about her. I was too embarrassed to find him and tell him. I decided to go it alone with my mother’s help.
He was a private detective and one our cases crossed paths. We were working at night investigating a case when ‘it’ happened. I don’t know how ‘it’ happened; I barely knew the guy. It was certainly out of character for me. I had never done ‘it’ before or since. Well, not until I got married. Even writing about it after all these years embarrasses me.
Just so, you don’t think I am a horrible person. I loved Jenny from the moment I found out I was pregnant and loved her much more after she was born. After Jenny turned one, her father came to see us. Somehow, he had heard about her. He never told me how he knew and I didn’t ask. A big case had kept him away from Nanaimo and I was gone when he came back. No one knew where I went. He said he missed me, in fact, he said he loved me ever since that moment and wanted to marry me. My cool logical nature did not leap at his proposal. He would have to earn it. We started dating. It took a year until I was sure he was the right man for me and Jenny. Troy and I have been happily married all these years.
We have had a successful private detective agency since getting married.
There you have it, a bit of my history.
Well, let’s get on with my first case as a private detective.
Posting of book chapters
Being new at writing, I am a writer in evolution.
My idea is to post chapters of some books when they are written to a tolerable level. They will not be finished polished works, one needs a good editor for that.
I sought an editor for my travel journal. The cost was around $3,500. A big chunk of change for a new writer who is not making any money writing and has limited resources.
And getting published? Flying without an aircraft may be easier.
So, you get to read my less-than-perfect works.
Sometimes something off the 'A-list' can be entertaining.
For example, Hollywood puts out many top-line movies each year, some end up being horrendous bombs at the box office. Yet, if you sit and watch them purely for entertainment, they will entertain you.
For example there are many 'poor' movies I have watched time and again, and thoroughly enjoyed them. How many made-for-TV movies are really good movies?
'Judge Dredd', remember that, even Stallone was embarrassed by it. My family has watched it many times and get a big kick out of it. We even shout out the lines as they are about to come. Great fun. Armand Assante says "Who says politics is boring?" right after he shoots up the whole council of judges. A great line!
Ever see 'Long Kiss Goodnight' and 'Cutthroat Island' with Geena Davis. Both were heavily panned at the box office but they are entertaining and we have watched them numerous times.
You get the point, I hope.
Sometimes less than perfect works out.
Hopefully, my stories will do the same.
My idea is to post chapters of some books when they are written to a tolerable level. They will not be finished polished works, one needs a good editor for that.
I sought an editor for my travel journal. The cost was around $3,500. A big chunk of change for a new writer who is not making any money writing and has limited resources.
And getting published? Flying without an aircraft may be easier.
So, you get to read my less-than-perfect works.
Sometimes something off the 'A-list' can be entertaining.
For example, Hollywood puts out many top-line movies each year, some end up being horrendous bombs at the box office. Yet, if you sit and watch them purely for entertainment, they will entertain you.
For example there are many 'poor' movies I have watched time and again, and thoroughly enjoyed them. How many made-for-TV movies are really good movies?
'Judge Dredd', remember that, even Stallone was embarrassed by it. My family has watched it many times and get a big kick out of it. We even shout out the lines as they are about to come. Great fun. Armand Assante says "Who says politics is boring?" right after he shoots up the whole council of judges. A great line!
Ever see 'Long Kiss Goodnight' and 'Cutthroat Island' with Geena Davis. Both were heavily panned at the box office but they are entertaining and we have watched them numerous times.
You get the point, I hope.
Sometimes less than perfect works out.
Hopefully, my stories will do the same.
Cornelia Barkman Case Files
Cornelia Barkman is the main character in my fiction book "The Cornelia Barkman Murders". She is a police detective in the mid-1960s. I am about halfway through writing it.
In the Cornelia Barkman Case Files, I have her retired and reviewing her case files. She decides to share some of them with you.
In "The Barkerville Bank Robbery" her investigative mind is piqued. She just has to find out why someone would rob a bank in the living museum ghost town of Barkerville, British Columbia.
In this short story Cornelia becomes a private detective, with this as her first case.
I will post this chapter by chapter on the blog as well.
In the Cornelia Barkman Case Files, I have her retired and reviewing her case files. She decides to share some of them with you.
In "The Barkerville Bank Robbery" her investigative mind is piqued. She just has to find out why someone would rob a bank in the living museum ghost town of Barkerville, British Columbia.
In this short story Cornelia becomes a private detective, with this as her first case.
I will post this chapter by chapter on the blog as well.
The Motel keys
As I edit the manuscript for this fiction book, 'The Motel Keys', I will post it chapter by chapter on this blog. It is my first fiction piece, so probably it is not stupendous. Hopefully it is a tolerable read.
Greetings from New Zealand
I sent emails to friends in New Zealand. Within a couple of hours, Ken and Jan sent an email back to me with their greetings and news. it had been a long since I heard from them.
Ken is a retired nurse. He was a Charge Nurse when I was a student.
In my travel journal "Five Weeks in New Zealand", I write about seeking friends from the past before leaving for New Zealand three years ago. I had not seen them for 32 years or more.
It was so good to see friends again.
I also found a couple of classmates that were kind enough to let my son and I visit them. Sheena was a significant influence in my life there. She took me to her family's farm for my first Christmas there.
I wrote about the 'Legend of Sheena' in the travel journal. A two-day visit with Sheena and her husband Bob left a lasting impression on Adrian. We met their two sons and Adrian spent New Year's Eve with them on the Octagon (central Square) in Dunedin.
It is coming up to 40 years since I went to New Zealand to become a Registered Nurse.
Who knew that 40 years later, it would still seem like yesterday.
No, I am not dwelling on the glories of the past because I am unhappy and depressed.
My time in New Zealand helped shape my life and for that I am thankful.
It all started in Lethbridge, Alberta. I met Len Tope while working a Saint Michael's General Hospital. He studied nursing in Christchurch. I went to Christchurch on his urging, he made it sound so good. It was. The travel journal is dedicated to him.
It is amazing how certain people can help shape a life.
Thanks to all of them who helped shape my life.
I appreciate it.
Ken is a retired nurse. He was a Charge Nurse when I was a student.
In my travel journal "Five Weeks in New Zealand", I write about seeking friends from the past before leaving for New Zealand three years ago. I had not seen them for 32 years or more.
It was so good to see friends again.
I also found a couple of classmates that were kind enough to let my son and I visit them. Sheena was a significant influence in my life there. She took me to her family's farm for my first Christmas there.
I wrote about the 'Legend of Sheena' in the travel journal. A two-day visit with Sheena and her husband Bob left a lasting impression on Adrian. We met their two sons and Adrian spent New Year's Eve with them on the Octagon (central Square) in Dunedin.
It is coming up to 40 years since I went to New Zealand to become a Registered Nurse.
Who knew that 40 years later, it would still seem like yesterday.
No, I am not dwelling on the glories of the past because I am unhappy and depressed.
My time in New Zealand helped shape my life and for that I am thankful.
It all started in Lethbridge, Alberta. I met Len Tope while working a Saint Michael's General Hospital. He studied nursing in Christchurch. I went to Christchurch on his urging, he made it sound so good. It was. The travel journal is dedicated to him.
It is amazing how certain people can help shape a life.
Thanks to all of them who helped shape my life.
I appreciate it.
My Boat
I sold Integrity at the end of August. The moorage fees were due to increase in February to $200.00 or more a month. I just could not bear the cost any more.
I liked boating and have enjoyed it for eight years. However, it is costly. I did not want to get a job just to support a boat.
Denise, Adrian and I met many wonderful people from the local boating community.
I will miss socializing around the campfire during the dark evenings. We had many joyous times.
I would like to get another boat someday, but I would have to win a lottery or earn bigger money, somehow. One can hope.
I liked boating and have enjoyed it for eight years. However, it is costly. I did not want to get a job just to support a boat.
Denise, Adrian and I met many wonderful people from the local boating community.
I will miss socializing around the campfire during the dark evenings. We had many joyous times.
I would like to get another boat someday, but I would have to win a lottery or earn bigger money, somehow. One can hope.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Greetings to my recent co-workers
Greetings for the Season and best wishes to you all.
It was really nice to see many of you as I wandered around the hospital a couple of weeks ago.
It was really nice to see many of you as I wandered around the hospital a couple of weeks ago.
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