Another Story Tree Story
by Angela Raines
The smell was what I noticed first, a combination of smoke and pine. Then I heard the cry. It sounded like a young child or lost kitten.
Fearing the worst, my heart beating frantically, I rushed to the spot where I believed the sound originated. It seemed to be from our meeting place. Frantically looking around I saw no one. I saw no fire. There wasn't even a burnt piece of wood.
Not willing to trust my own senses I started looking under rocks, dead brush, trash anything that could be hiding a beginnings or end of a fire. I scanned the horizon. I saw, heard and smelled nothing. Still I could feel the fear and dread. It seemed to over take my mind. I calmed myself. There was nothing I could see. The sense of dread I was feeling made no sense.
I climbed up the rock face to get a better view from higher up. There were some steep areas, but the foot and hand holds were there. In my haste I scraped my hands and forearms, but still continued to climb. When I finally reached the top I realized I had done something I had always been afraid to do before. I always thought that rock climbing was hazardous and that I would fall to my death. It didn't matter that the distance wouldn't have been that great. It was an unreasoning fear I had. Now that I had succeeded in making the climb and found nothing, I wondered how I would get back down.
Then a gentle breeze brought the sound of the cry again. My heart started to race yet again. I forced myself to take a deep breath and calm myself. Continuing to react in such panic would accomplish nothing. I slowed my heart and stood still, forcing myself to really see and take in what was around me.
Then the breeze brought the sound again. I looked toward where the tree would be. I could hear laughter in my head.
Then this smiling voice said, “It's just these creaky old limbs. One thing about age, the limbs creak.”
I realize the tree was laughing not at me, but at itself and my reaction. This was the first time I realize the sense of humor the tree had. The I thought of the smell.
I was bound to find out about the smell. I started down off the top of the rocks and headed toward the tree. When I reached to bottom I asked, “But what about the smoke I was smelling and the feeling of dread that I felt?”
“There was a fire in the area last year. Whenever the wind is coming from the east it brings back the smell of burning.” The tree answered.
“But what about the sense of dread? There was no reason for me to react that way.”
All of a sudden in my minds eye I saw the flames rising toward the moon. Coloring the sky with ghostly waves of red, blue and whitish gray. Then the flames themselves were billowing towards me. Red, blue, yellow and the white smoke around them.
My skin started to prickle with the heat. I found myself gasping, trying to take in a breath. The smoke and heat were too intense. I wanted to flee. I cried out, but no sound could be heard. I tried to move, but could not. Panic was starting to overtake me yet again.
“It isn't real. You are fine. I am fine. The fire never reached me.” I could hear the concern in the voice. “Please relax.”
I felt the tears running down my cheeks, tears of relief. My friend was safe.
“Why should a little fire bother you. Look at what you did today. You not only made a rock climb, but you managed to get down in one piece.”
Startled, I looked at myself and at how I had been limiting what I did because I was frightened of the unknown. Yes, the fire in my mind had been terrifying, but in retrospect it was just a fire. Yes, I could have perished or my friend the tree, but we had survived and there were so many more things I knew I could learn from my association with the tree.
“You know, I want to hear your stories. There must be a reason I heard your call and can hear what you say. I will be fine. This has been a lesson for me. I will be better prepared the next time.”
I felt the tree sigh, then pause.
“I will see you in a couple of days. In the meantime, enjoy yourself.”
I smiled at the tree and said, “You sound like my parents. I'll be fine, who knows maybe I'll climb a few more rocks!”
copyright 2011 by Doris A McCraw
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Story Tree Story 2
As I sat down at the base of the tree, I took a deep breath and prepared to hear what the tree had to say. I leaned back against the trunk and then I heard the trees voice in my head.
“Since you reacted the way you did last time, I have decided to just tell you this story.”
“They're your stories, I'm willing to hear them however you wish to share.”
I heard the tree take a deep breath and then in a quiet voice started the story.
“She always arrived from the East. When I first saw her she was so young. There was a spring in her step and a smile in her eyes. The tune she hummed was sad but fun. The sun created pearls in her hair which was the color of autumn leaves. Her curls bounced with each step.”
As the tree spoke I could see a young girl, maybe three years old walking toward me. I knew it was what the tree was seeing and I silently thanked him for allowing a least part of what he saw come through to me.
The trees voice continued. “The grass barely noticed her passing. Each blade bending and springing back as her bare feet felt of the earth. Week after week, year after year I watched as she blossomed into a fine person. Her smile never ceased to comfort and make me happy to be alive, even though I was stuck in this same spot. The years flew as I watched her grow and I looked forward to each and every visit.”
Again the vision of a young woman floated into my mind. I couldn't quite make out her face, but the feeling I received was one of joy and peace.
“In all the time she never spoke to me but I knew she felt something for this place. It was not like you, she wasn't able to hear my thoughts. To tell you the truth, very few people can, and those who do run away as if they were imagining it.”
“She never ran, instead she seemed to think of this place as a sanctuary.”
“Finally there came a week when she didn't come. That was followed by another then another. I was beginning to think that something had happened or that she didn't need me or this place anymore.”
I could here the sadness and loss in the voice that was in my mind. I found myself wondering what had happened. Had she died or maybe left the area?”
“Neither,” the tree answered. “When I saw her again she had lost her smile. Her shoulders drooped and her steps were hesitant. I so wanted to know what as wrong, but had no way of asking.”
“All of a sudden I saw the tears in her eyes. Those eyes that had been so joyful and happy now reflected the love she didn't have. I saw the others shunning her, leaving her out of their games. I saw the mother who wouldn't talk to her. Why I was able to see that when I hadn't been able to see anything before surprised and saddened me.”
As the vision materialized in my mind yet again I found myself crying. I was seeing and feeling what the tree was receiving from the now young woman.
“Then as she looked at me the smile returned. Her shoulders straightened and she looked directly at me.”
Smiling she said “You have always been here alone but you don't seem lonely. Your lesson is not lost. I thank you.”
With those words she turned and started walking. This time however she didn't return the way she had come, but continued on to the west.. The smile in her eyes, the spring in her step, the sun......”
“I am so sorry,” I said to the tree.
“There have been many people and many stories, it is the way that the cycle of life is. Although I may be sad, I have the memories and now thanks to you I have someone to share them with. As long as someone remembers the people never die.”
I thought about that for some time as I sat there and realized the tree was right. As long as someone hears and remembers the stories, they remain alive.
“I look forward to the next story.” I smiled and headed west.
The End of Story 2
This story is the sole property of the author. It may not be copied or published without the permission of the author. This blog or blog address may be forwarded with this information included in the forwarding.copyright 2-2011 by Doris McCraw writing as Angela Raines
“Since you reacted the way you did last time, I have decided to just tell you this story.”
“They're your stories, I'm willing to hear them however you wish to share.”
I heard the tree take a deep breath and then in a quiet voice started the story.
“She always arrived from the East. When I first saw her she was so young. There was a spring in her step and a smile in her eyes. The tune she hummed was sad but fun. The sun created pearls in her hair which was the color of autumn leaves. Her curls bounced with each step.”
As the tree spoke I could see a young girl, maybe three years old walking toward me. I knew it was what the tree was seeing and I silently thanked him for allowing a least part of what he saw come through to me.
The trees voice continued. “The grass barely noticed her passing. Each blade bending and springing back as her bare feet felt of the earth. Week after week, year after year I watched as she blossomed into a fine person. Her smile never ceased to comfort and make me happy to be alive, even though I was stuck in this same spot. The years flew as I watched her grow and I looked forward to each and every visit.”
Again the vision of a young woman floated into my mind. I couldn't quite make out her face, but the feeling I received was one of joy and peace.
“In all the time she never spoke to me but I knew she felt something for this place. It was not like you, she wasn't able to hear my thoughts. To tell you the truth, very few people can, and those who do run away as if they were imagining it.”
“She never ran, instead she seemed to think of this place as a sanctuary.”
“Finally there came a week when she didn't come. That was followed by another then another. I was beginning to think that something had happened or that she didn't need me or this place anymore.”
I could here the sadness and loss in the voice that was in my mind. I found myself wondering what had happened. Had she died or maybe left the area?”
“Neither,” the tree answered. “When I saw her again she had lost her smile. Her shoulders drooped and her steps were hesitant. I so wanted to know what as wrong, but had no way of asking.”
“All of a sudden I saw the tears in her eyes. Those eyes that had been so joyful and happy now reflected the love she didn't have. I saw the others shunning her, leaving her out of their games. I saw the mother who wouldn't talk to her. Why I was able to see that when I hadn't been able to see anything before surprised and saddened me.”
As the vision materialized in my mind yet again I found myself crying. I was seeing and feeling what the tree was receiving from the now young woman.
“Then as she looked at me the smile returned. Her shoulders straightened and she looked directly at me.”
Smiling she said “You have always been here alone but you don't seem lonely. Your lesson is not lost. I thank you.”
With those words she turned and started walking. This time however she didn't return the way she had come, but continued on to the west.. The smile in her eyes, the spring in her step, the sun......”
“I am so sorry,” I said to the tree.
“There have been many people and many stories, it is the way that the cycle of life is. Although I may be sad, I have the memories and now thanks to you I have someone to share them with. As long as someone remembers the people never die.”
I thought about that for some time as I sat there and realized the tree was right. As long as someone hears and remembers the stories, they remain alive.
“I look forward to the next story.” I smiled and headed west.
The End of Story 2
This story is the sole property of the author. It may not be copied or published without the permission of the author. This blog or blog address may be forwarded with this information included in the forwarding.copyright 2-2011 by Doris McCraw writing as Angela Raines
Monday, January 31, 2011
The Story Tree: Story 1
"If you are ready I shall tell what I have seen and heard over the years.” the tree said.
“I am ready.”
I leaned back against the trunk and closed my eyes ready to hear what the tree had to say.
The tree sighed and then I saw a woman in my mind. She was covered in armor with sword in hand. As I took this all in I heard her voice and the story of her dance with death.
It had been a fierce three days of battle. The field was covered with corpses, their body parts strewn out over the field like the broken shards of pottery they resembled. I had managed to stay alive until this last day when victory was no longer ours. Now, it was time for my own dance with death. Were the old stories true? Did one Dance with Death to decide whether you would go or stay, where you would reside? I fervently hoped so as I drew my last labored breath.
The first day of fighting we were victorious in every engagement. The young warriors were ecstatic. They celebrated, cheered and drank to their prowess. We who were older looked on indulgently, for we had been there before.
On the second day the weather became stormy and wet. The battlefield became a quagmire. They threw everything at us, or so we thought. Again we were victorious, but the price was high. Many of the young ones were either killed or badly wounded. They paid dearly for their hangovers. Perhaps we should have stopped them in their celebrations, but that was not our way.
The last day the enemy brought a number of new warriors, maneuvers and weapons to the engagement. We all tried. Tried and tried but the flow of battle had changed. After many more had fallen I found myself standing alone. Many of us were cut off from the main fighting and each other. No one to cover our backs.
Just then a giant brute charged toward me. I wanted to run, but knew that was not really an option. I raised my weapon, my trusty blade, to meet the rush.
“You may be a big one, you might even win, but not easily!” I said.
He stopped mid-stride.
“You are not just a little man. They must be so desperate that they are using women.”
“Not use, I chose . This is my choice.”
‘I don’t fight women.”
“Then you lose for I fight any who attack me or my comrades.”
At that moment his eyes widened. I started to turn.
“NO!” he shouted.
I felt my self starting to fall, my left arm was numb, blood running from the cut at the top of my arm. Injuries sustained in earlier attacks. Struggling I parried the blow, turning my right side toward this new attacker. That put my back and injured side to the brute. He hadn’t attacked yet. It was a chance I had to take.
My attacker and I continued to swing and parry for what seemed hours. He would swing, I would try to get under only to be parried again and again. I hadn’t forgotten the brute and would occasionally catch a glimpse as I spun. He just stood there.
As my strength continued to drain from me I knew I couldn’t last much longer. If I was to go my attacker was going with me.
Mustering my strength I faked a thrust and my attacker fell toward me. I was able to move his blade aside just slightly. I felt the steel punch into my side. The blood began to flow as I twirled, causing the blade to slice outward from my side. I was so focused on my move I barely felt the cutting as I raised my own blade and swung with all my remaining strength. Turning I felt the resistance of steel on steel and then a release as my blade continued on to bite into flesh.
My attackers eyes glazed over and he crumpled at my feet.
Turning swiftly I faced to brute, but he just stared as I saw the world growing gray around the edges. I toppled seeing the battle field and all my comrades. The last thing I say was the brute raising he weapon. I was done as the gray covered my eyes.
“Here’s another one” I heard as the world began spinning around. I look to my right and saw great clouds of smoke coming towards me. I spun to the left and saw the fire climbing upwards. In front was ice and wind blowing towards me and behind I heard thunder and crackling. It seemed as if the elements were all converging and I was in the middle of the maelstrom.
“Are you scared?” What a question! The fire was pushing me towards the ice. My back was blistering while my face and hands were freezing. I turned towards the smoke from the fire and found I could not breathe. The next thing I realized I am being spun around inside what could only be a tornado, the wind tearing me asunder while the lighting and thunder took what senses I had left away. All I could think of was please let this end!
Then all was quiet, no sound, no breath, no wind, nothing only total black. The total absence of anything.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“You were moaning. Does it hurt?” I heard the tree asking.
“No, but it was frightening and yet somehow comforting.”
“If you wish we can continue at another time, that is if you still wish to hear my stories?”
“I will see you tomorrow.”
“I am ready.”
I leaned back against the trunk and closed my eyes ready to hear what the tree had to say.
The tree sighed and then I saw a woman in my mind. She was covered in armor with sword in hand. As I took this all in I heard her voice and the story of her dance with death.
It had been a fierce three days of battle. The field was covered with corpses, their body parts strewn out over the field like the broken shards of pottery they resembled. I had managed to stay alive until this last day when victory was no longer ours. Now, it was time for my own dance with death. Were the old stories true? Did one Dance with Death to decide whether you would go or stay, where you would reside? I fervently hoped so as I drew my last labored breath.
The first day of fighting we were victorious in every engagement. The young warriors were ecstatic. They celebrated, cheered and drank to their prowess. We who were older looked on indulgently, for we had been there before.
On the second day the weather became stormy and wet. The battlefield became a quagmire. They threw everything at us, or so we thought. Again we were victorious, but the price was high. Many of the young ones were either killed or badly wounded. They paid dearly for their hangovers. Perhaps we should have stopped them in their celebrations, but that was not our way.
The last day the enemy brought a number of new warriors, maneuvers and weapons to the engagement. We all tried. Tried and tried but the flow of battle had changed. After many more had fallen I found myself standing alone. Many of us were cut off from the main fighting and each other. No one to cover our backs.
Just then a giant brute charged toward me. I wanted to run, but knew that was not really an option. I raised my weapon, my trusty blade, to meet the rush.
“You may be a big one, you might even win, but not easily!” I said.
He stopped mid-stride.
“You are not just a little man. They must be so desperate that they are using women.”
“Not use, I chose . This is my choice.”
‘I don’t fight women.”
“Then you lose for I fight any who attack me or my comrades.”
At that moment his eyes widened. I started to turn.
“NO!” he shouted.
I felt my self starting to fall, my left arm was numb, blood running from the cut at the top of my arm. Injuries sustained in earlier attacks. Struggling I parried the blow, turning my right side toward this new attacker. That put my back and injured side to the brute. He hadn’t attacked yet. It was a chance I had to take.
My attacker and I continued to swing and parry for what seemed hours. He would swing, I would try to get under only to be parried again and again. I hadn’t forgotten the brute and would occasionally catch a glimpse as I spun. He just stood there.
As my strength continued to drain from me I knew I couldn’t last much longer. If I was to go my attacker was going with me.
Mustering my strength I faked a thrust and my attacker fell toward me. I was able to move his blade aside just slightly. I felt the steel punch into my side. The blood began to flow as I twirled, causing the blade to slice outward from my side. I was so focused on my move I barely felt the cutting as I raised my own blade and swung with all my remaining strength. Turning I felt the resistance of steel on steel and then a release as my blade continued on to bite into flesh.
My attackers eyes glazed over and he crumpled at my feet.
Turning swiftly I faced to brute, but he just stared as I saw the world growing gray around the edges. I toppled seeing the battle field and all my comrades. The last thing I say was the brute raising he weapon. I was done as the gray covered my eyes.
“Here’s another one” I heard as the world began spinning around. I look to my right and saw great clouds of smoke coming towards me. I spun to the left and saw the fire climbing upwards. In front was ice and wind blowing towards me and behind I heard thunder and crackling. It seemed as if the elements were all converging and I was in the middle of the maelstrom.
“Are you scared?” What a question! The fire was pushing me towards the ice. My back was blistering while my face and hands were freezing. I turned towards the smoke from the fire and found I could not breathe. The next thing I realized I am being spun around inside what could only be a tornado, the wind tearing me asunder while the lighting and thunder took what senses I had left away. All I could think of was please let this end!
Then all was quiet, no sound, no breath, no wind, nothing only total black. The total absence of anything.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“You were moaning. Does it hurt?” I heard the tree asking.
“No, but it was frightening and yet somehow comforting.”
“If you wish we can continue at another time, that is if you still wish to hear my stories?”
“I will see you tomorrow.”
Sunday, October 31, 2010
The Story Tree
The Story Tree
by Angela Raines
I found the story tree not by accident, but by being called to where it stood.
I was driving through my favorite park. It was a warm sunny day. The car window was down to cut the heat coming from the sun. I had taken a new route through and was about to take the turn out of the park when I heard a crying coming from my left. I slowed and tried to focus on where the sound came from. Unable to pinpoint the location I pulled into a parking lot and got out of the car.
I stood listening. A few minutes later the sound came again. This time I heard a “please help”. The sound came from the left. I started moving in that direction-thinking maybe someone had fallen and was hurt or stuck. The many trails through the park were always busy. Occasionally someone would wander from the path, but it had been a long time since a situation where someone's life was threatened. Of course there was always a chance. That was the reason why I was following the voice.
I walked along the trail, watching for signs of an accident. Seeing nothing I continued on and heard the voice again. It was still coming from the left, and it appeared to be behind a bunch of brush and rocks. I wasn’t sure what I could do but the voice was insistent. Through the brush, over the rocks I climbed and still the voice was ahead of me. Finally climbing over a rock wall about 8 feet high there before me was nothing but this lone, old, majestic tree. There was nothing else except the grass, a few dead branches and small boulders. I could see no one, but I raised my voice and called. “Hello, it anyone here.”
I received an answer, but not from where I thought. In front of me I heard a “Thank you for coming. I have been waiting for so long sending out my call and no one has answered.”
I looked around expecting someone to jump out from behind the rocks or tree. Nothing. There was no one, nothing around. I stood listening. I could not figure out where the sound was coming from. Again I heard “It’s me who called you. I am so glad someone finally heard my call.”
By now I was getting a bit spooked. “Who is that talking?” I called.
“It’s me, right in front of you, the tree.”
“It isn’t April 1st so what or who is playing this joke?” I demanded.
“This is no joke, I called and you were the one who answered. I have to tell my tale before my time is through and finally someone answered. I was beginning to despair that no one would hear and all my knowledge would be lost.” the tree seemed to be saying.
“OK, I’ll bite” I grudgingly said. “What's going on?”
“As you can see I am in an area all by myself. I have been here for longer than I care to think about, but I have been unable to communicate my story to anyone. I have just continued to exist wondering if I would ever be able to pass on” the voice said with a mournful tone. “Since you heard my call you must be the one who is to hear my story and mark it. Will you stay for awhile and listen to what I am compelled to say?”
“At this point you have my undivided attention. There are a few hours of afternoon left” I grudgingly replied.
Thus began what was to be a long and fascinating story.
TO BE CONTINUED......
All rights reserved. This story is the sole property of the author. It may not be copied or published without the permission of the author. This blog or blog address may be forwarded with this information included in the forwarding.
copywrite 10-2010 by Doris McCraw
by Angela Raines
I found the story tree not by accident, but by being called to where it stood.
I was driving through my favorite park. It was a warm sunny day. The car window was down to cut the heat coming from the sun. I had taken a new route through and was about to take the turn out of the park when I heard a crying coming from my left. I slowed and tried to focus on where the sound came from. Unable to pinpoint the location I pulled into a parking lot and got out of the car.
I stood listening. A few minutes later the sound came again. This time I heard a “please help”. The sound came from the left. I started moving in that direction-thinking maybe someone had fallen and was hurt or stuck. The many trails through the park were always busy. Occasionally someone would wander from the path, but it had been a long time since a situation where someone's life was threatened. Of course there was always a chance. That was the reason why I was following the voice.
I walked along the trail, watching for signs of an accident. Seeing nothing I continued on and heard the voice again. It was still coming from the left, and it appeared to be behind a bunch of brush and rocks. I wasn’t sure what I could do but the voice was insistent. Through the brush, over the rocks I climbed and still the voice was ahead of me. Finally climbing over a rock wall about 8 feet high there before me was nothing but this lone, old, majestic tree. There was nothing else except the grass, a few dead branches and small boulders. I could see no one, but I raised my voice and called. “Hello, it anyone here.”
I received an answer, but not from where I thought. In front of me I heard a “Thank you for coming. I have been waiting for so long sending out my call and no one has answered.”
I looked around expecting someone to jump out from behind the rocks or tree. Nothing. There was no one, nothing around. I stood listening. I could not figure out where the sound was coming from. Again I heard “It’s me who called you. I am so glad someone finally heard my call.”
By now I was getting a bit spooked. “Who is that talking?” I called.
“It’s me, right in front of you, the tree.”
“It isn’t April 1st so what or who is playing this joke?” I demanded.
“This is no joke, I called and you were the one who answered. I have to tell my tale before my time is through and finally someone answered. I was beginning to despair that no one would hear and all my knowledge would be lost.” the tree seemed to be saying.
“OK, I’ll bite” I grudgingly said. “What's going on?”
“As you can see I am in an area all by myself. I have been here for longer than I care to think about, but I have been unable to communicate my story to anyone. I have just continued to exist wondering if I would ever be able to pass on” the voice said with a mournful tone. “Since you heard my call you must be the one who is to hear my story and mark it. Will you stay for awhile and listen to what I am compelled to say?”
“At this point you have my undivided attention. There are a few hours of afternoon left” I grudgingly replied.
Thus began what was to be a long and fascinating story.
TO BE CONTINUED......
All rights reserved. This story is the sole property of the author. It may not be copied or published without the permission of the author. This blog or blog address may be forwarded with this information included in the forwarding.
copywrite 10-2010 by Doris McCraw
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The Ride
The Ride
by Angela Raines
“Did you call a cab?”
“You know I did, in fact you're ten minutes early.”
“Hey, I couldn't wait to pick up my favorite fare. By the way, you look really good in the shade of blue. It matches your eyes.”
“Thank you for the compliment. You are looking rather dashing in your yellow shirt.”
“Right back at ya'! So where do you want to go today?”
“Let's just drive and when I feel like stopping I'll let you know.”
“Hey, you're payin' so what you say goes. Which way you want to go first?”
“Let's head downtown. By the way, I have loved the stories you tell as we drive along. I especially liked the one about your being shot. Was that really true?”
“Here's the scare on my elbow where I pulled the bullet out 'cause the hospital couldn't take the time.”
“Stop here. I want to see what's new at the jewelery shop.”
“You want me to wait?”
“If you would, please.”
“Aspen tree stands tall. Stream flowing through pale green grass. Blue skies frame pictures. That ain't too bad. Maybe I should be a taxi drivin' poet?”
“What were you saying?”
“I wrote a poem while I was waiting for you. Want to hear it?”
“I would love to.”
“Aspen tree stands tall. Stream flowing through pale green grass. Blue skies frame pictures. What da' ya think?”
“Not bad. Stop here.”
“A bagel shop?”
“Yes. Would you like one?”
“A cheese bagel sounds mighty nice.”
“I'll be right back out.”
“Life's a gift you have to sing, People a joy for gifts they bring.”
“Here's your bagel. Now I suppose you are going to tell me you're a singer.”
“Hey, singin' is better than bein' robbed. This one time in New York, while I was drivin' a cab there, this guy he pulls a knife and says to pull over. Now, you don't pull no weapons on a cab driver, specially in New York, or even Colorado Springs here. Well I just pushed on the gas pedal then slammed on the brakes. That guy he went a sailin'. I took the knife away from him and took him to the police station.”
“You have really lived an interesting life. Providing all the stories you've told me are true. Stop here.”
“There ain't nothin' here.”
“I want to stop by a friends place just around the corner.”
“I'll wait here for you if you would like, or I can drive you over.”
“No, a bit of a walk will do me good. I want to stop a couple of places. See my attorney and stop by the bank.”
“Okay.”
“You know Clarence old man, that is one classy lady. You were a lucky man to have gotten to know her. Wonder where we will head next?”
“Clarence, is that your real name? It's not whats on your license.”
“I call myself Clarence when I am talking to myself. It makes me feel less... you know.”
“Well Clarence, it has been wonderful getting to know you. I have enjoyed our outings.”
“Hey, you plannin' on goin' somewhere?”
“Stop the cab here. If I'm not back in ten minutes, head back. Here is the fare for today.”
“You want me to come by your place tomorrow?”
“Clarence, just know that I have enjoyed our time and our outings.”
“I think I'm goin' to miss her. What's this? 'You tell such stories, I hope you can tell a tale to get out of this'.”
“Sir, will you step out of the car!”
###
Copyright 2010 by Doris A. McCraw writing as Angela Raines
by Angela Raines
“Did you call a cab?”
“You know I did, in fact you're ten minutes early.”
“Hey, I couldn't wait to pick up my favorite fare. By the way, you look really good in the shade of blue. It matches your eyes.”
“Thank you for the compliment. You are looking rather dashing in your yellow shirt.”
“Right back at ya'! So where do you want to go today?”
“Let's just drive and when I feel like stopping I'll let you know.”
“Hey, you're payin' so what you say goes. Which way you want to go first?”
“Let's head downtown. By the way, I have loved the stories you tell as we drive along. I especially liked the one about your being shot. Was that really true?”
“Here's the scare on my elbow where I pulled the bullet out 'cause the hospital couldn't take the time.”
“Stop here. I want to see what's new at the jewelery shop.”
“You want me to wait?”
“If you would, please.”
“Aspen tree stands tall. Stream flowing through pale green grass. Blue skies frame pictures. That ain't too bad. Maybe I should be a taxi drivin' poet?”
“What were you saying?”
“I wrote a poem while I was waiting for you. Want to hear it?”
“I would love to.”
“Aspen tree stands tall. Stream flowing through pale green grass. Blue skies frame pictures. What da' ya think?”
“Not bad. Stop here.”
“A bagel shop?”
“Yes. Would you like one?”
“A cheese bagel sounds mighty nice.”
“I'll be right back out.”
“Life's a gift you have to sing, People a joy for gifts they bring.”
“Here's your bagel. Now I suppose you are going to tell me you're a singer.”
“Hey, singin' is better than bein' robbed. This one time in New York, while I was drivin' a cab there, this guy he pulls a knife and says to pull over. Now, you don't pull no weapons on a cab driver, specially in New York, or even Colorado Springs here. Well I just pushed on the gas pedal then slammed on the brakes. That guy he went a sailin'. I took the knife away from him and took him to the police station.”
“You have really lived an interesting life. Providing all the stories you've told me are true. Stop here.”
“There ain't nothin' here.”
“I want to stop by a friends place just around the corner.”
“I'll wait here for you if you would like, or I can drive you over.”
“No, a bit of a walk will do me good. I want to stop a couple of places. See my attorney and stop by the bank.”
“Okay.”
“You know Clarence old man, that is one classy lady. You were a lucky man to have gotten to know her. Wonder where we will head next?”
“Clarence, is that your real name? It's not whats on your license.”
“I call myself Clarence when I am talking to myself. It makes me feel less... you know.”
“Well Clarence, it has been wonderful getting to know you. I have enjoyed our outings.”
“Hey, you plannin' on goin' somewhere?”
“Stop the cab here. If I'm not back in ten minutes, head back. Here is the fare for today.”
“You want me to come by your place tomorrow?”
“Clarence, just know that I have enjoyed our time and our outings.”
“I think I'm goin' to miss her. What's this? 'You tell such stories, I hope you can tell a tale to get out of this'.”
“Sir, will you step out of the car!”
###
Copyright 2010 by Doris A. McCraw writing as Angela Raines
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Autumn Creek: Conclusion
"Hello Blanche.” said Henry, “You have been a difficult person to find.”
I stood staring. What could Henry possibly want with me and why was he trying to find me? I had left that part of my life behind. In coming to Fairview I had hoped to catch up with my childhood friend Sarah. Instead I had found Sarah had already left for California, but I found I liked the mountains and the area brought me peace of mind. Now here was Henry wanting what, I didn't know.
“Aren't you going to invite me in?” he asked.
“Of course,..No. What are you doing here?” I stumbled over my thoughts and after saying yes, I knew I did not want Henry in my home.
“I came to see you.”
“Henry, you wanted the farm more than me. After the initial disappointment, I found I was pleased with the choice you had made.”
“Blanche, you loved me once. Don't tell me that has changed.”
“Henry, nothing has changed. I really never loved you. It was more my fear of being alone. Living here, I find I am completely happy with my state of affairs.”
I could see the stunned look on his face. It was no more than the truth. Coming to Fairview had been the best thing to happen in my life. I had friends, customers and a community that truly seemed to value me.
“Henry, whatever your reason for coming, it no longer applies. I wish you well, but....”
Before I had finished Henry lunged toward the door and me. I was taken off guard and fell back against the door frame. Grabbing my arm, Henry tried to propel me into the house. I pushed against him and managed to elude his grasp. Turning I ran toward the main part of town with Henry not far behind.
“Blanche! Come back. You need to return to your home You need to come back with me.” Henry shouted as he slowly caught up with me.
I continued running and soon people were coming out to see what was going on. Just as Henry grabbed me Mr. Swan came out with a broom in his hand.
“And just what do you think you are doing with Blanche, sir?” Mr. Swan asked.
“I am her fiance and have come to take her back home.”
“Blanche is this true?”
“No, Henry here decided he would rather have a farm than me. I would like to know the real reason he is here.”
Turning on Henry, both Mr. Swan and myself awaited the answer.
By this time more people had joined us. I could see Henry was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. I just couldn't understand why he grabbed for me. Although not the most considerate of people he had never been physical.
“Blanche, couldn't we go somewhere alone to talk?”
“Your recent actions indicate that would not be a safe thing to do.” I said. “But if you would like we can go to the cafe and talk there. It is a public place and I should be safe.”
He nodded his assent so we walked over to Ruth's cafe. After seating ourselves I waited for his answer.
“Blanche, I haven't done so well by myself and realized what a fool I had been to let you go. I need you. I truly want you to come back with me.”
I looked at this man who might have been my husband. He was tall, fairly good looking, but I found that I really didn't care for him. He seemed small.
“Henry, I really don't believe you. You don't really care for me. What is the real reason?”
“If you want the truth, I need you, I need someone to help me with the farm. I need someone who will be there. Please won't you reconsider and return home with me?”
I had just heard the words that I would have given anything to hear a year ago. Now I found they were hollow. There were no words of affection, not even fondness. It was all about Henry and his needs. I found I was not willing to trade the promise of protection and security for my happiness. I had found what I wanted here.
“No Henry, I will not return with you. My life is here now.”
Henry started to move toward me, but all of a sudden the residents of Fairview were there with me. They had been waiting outside, giving us our privacy, but watching out for me. Here was the protection and security I wanted.
“You are making a big mistake, you will be alone and a wretched old maid. I was willing to take you back, but not now.”
“Henry, you never had me, so how could you take me back. I will never be alone for I have true friends here. Now please leave.”
I walked out into the sunshine and my friends went with me to my home. This was where I belonged.
The End
copyright 2010 by Doris A McCraw
I stood staring. What could Henry possibly want with me and why was he trying to find me? I had left that part of my life behind. In coming to Fairview I had hoped to catch up with my childhood friend Sarah. Instead I had found Sarah had already left for California, but I found I liked the mountains and the area brought me peace of mind. Now here was Henry wanting what, I didn't know.
“Aren't you going to invite me in?” he asked.
“Of course,..No. What are you doing here?” I stumbled over my thoughts and after saying yes, I knew I did not want Henry in my home.
“I came to see you.”
“Henry, you wanted the farm more than me. After the initial disappointment, I found I was pleased with the choice you had made.”
“Blanche, you loved me once. Don't tell me that has changed.”
“Henry, nothing has changed. I really never loved you. It was more my fear of being alone. Living here, I find I am completely happy with my state of affairs.”
I could see the stunned look on his face. It was no more than the truth. Coming to Fairview had been the best thing to happen in my life. I had friends, customers and a community that truly seemed to value me.
“Henry, whatever your reason for coming, it no longer applies. I wish you well, but....”
Before I had finished Henry lunged toward the door and me. I was taken off guard and fell back against the door frame. Grabbing my arm, Henry tried to propel me into the house. I pushed against him and managed to elude his grasp. Turning I ran toward the main part of town with Henry not far behind.
“Blanche! Come back. You need to return to your home You need to come back with me.” Henry shouted as he slowly caught up with me.
I continued running and soon people were coming out to see what was going on. Just as Henry grabbed me Mr. Swan came out with a broom in his hand.
“And just what do you think you are doing with Blanche, sir?” Mr. Swan asked.
“I am her fiance and have come to take her back home.”
“Blanche is this true?”
“No, Henry here decided he would rather have a farm than me. I would like to know the real reason he is here.”
Turning on Henry, both Mr. Swan and myself awaited the answer.
By this time more people had joined us. I could see Henry was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. I just couldn't understand why he grabbed for me. Although not the most considerate of people he had never been physical.
“Blanche, couldn't we go somewhere alone to talk?”
“Your recent actions indicate that would not be a safe thing to do.” I said. “But if you would like we can go to the cafe and talk there. It is a public place and I should be safe.”
He nodded his assent so we walked over to Ruth's cafe. After seating ourselves I waited for his answer.
“Blanche, I haven't done so well by myself and realized what a fool I had been to let you go. I need you. I truly want you to come back with me.”
I looked at this man who might have been my husband. He was tall, fairly good looking, but I found that I really didn't care for him. He seemed small.
“Henry, I really don't believe you. You don't really care for me. What is the real reason?”
“If you want the truth, I need you, I need someone to help me with the farm. I need someone who will be there. Please won't you reconsider and return home with me?”
I had just heard the words that I would have given anything to hear a year ago. Now I found they were hollow. There were no words of affection, not even fondness. It was all about Henry and his needs. I found I was not willing to trade the promise of protection and security for my happiness. I had found what I wanted here.
“No Henry, I will not return with you. My life is here now.”
Henry started to move toward me, but all of a sudden the residents of Fairview were there with me. They had been waiting outside, giving us our privacy, but watching out for me. Here was the protection and security I wanted.
“You are making a big mistake, you will be alone and a wretched old maid. I was willing to take you back, but not now.”
“Henry, you never had me, so how could you take me back. I will never be alone for I have true friends here. Now please leave.”
I walked out into the sunshine and my friends went with me to my home. This was where I belonged.
The End
copyright 2010 by Doris A McCraw
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Autumn Creek Part 1
by Angela Raines
When I arrived on the stage it was a cold, over cast day. My parents had died the past summer and I found that I could not and did not want to maintain the family farm. Henry had wanted the farm and me. I gave him the choice and he chose the farm. That did little for my self-confidence, but I sold the farm and used the proceeds to the travel to west fork of Autumn Creek in the Colorado Territory. The little settlement on the creek was called Fairview. I was hoping it lived up to its name.
The house I had rented site unseen was at the edge of the settlement. It had been the home of a family who had died of the fever three years ago. As I opened the door there was dust everywhere. Still the roof seemed sound and with a bit of work it looked like it would clean up nicely.
I had a funds, but they would not last long. I needed to look for a way of earning a living. There was little I could do, but perhaps taking in sewing or maybe cooking. Nice jobs that a woman would do. At least back home they were jobs a woman would do. Here I was not so sure. I couldn't ride or rope and I didn't want to ranch, for that was too much like farming.
After settling in I headed out toward the center of town. All around I saw women in their calico's and bonnets. My traveling outfit was dusty from the stage ride, much like my new home. You could hardly tell it was blue, it looked like some shade of yellow/gray. I had tried dusting it off, but that was an exercise in uselessness. As I walked to the mercantile I was greeted with pleasant nods and understanding smiles. These were the people who would be my neighbors and possibly my customers.
Entering the store I was assailed with the odor of leather, pickles and some others I couldn't put a name to. The owner, John Swan, greeted me as I stepped up to the counter.
“Afternoon, you the new resident in town? I saw you get off the stage and head to the old Isaac house.”
“Yes I am. I have come to buy some cleaning supplies. It seems the only residents of that property have been spiders and mice.” I replied.
“Well I try to stock most of what folks would need. You just look around and if you can't find something let me know. If I don't have it somewhere I suppose I could order it for you. Should only take a few weeks if it is coming from back east.” He smiled.
I found what I needed, paid for them and headed back to the house. I hoped to get things straightened out enough so that I could spend the night there. If not, I would have to pay for a room in the boarding house. It looked nice enough, but this was my home and I wanted to stay there.
#####
The days passed quickly and the town lived up to its name. The valley where the creek meandered through was beautiful. There were cottonwoods, poplars and so many different plants that I wondered if I would ever learn the name of all of them. The people were friendly and I soon had enough work that I was able to provide nicely for myself.
As the creek started to ice over at night I knew that I was facing my first real test. When I wasn't baking or sewing I was out chopping wood and generally preparing for the upcoming winter. That was when it happened.
I had just finished bringing in a load of wood and had my evening meal on the table. As I sat down someone began to bang on the door. I got up, opened the door and there stood Henry.
**to be continued in August**
copyright 2010 by Doris McCraw writing as Angela Raines
When I arrived on the stage it was a cold, over cast day. My parents had died the past summer and I found that I could not and did not want to maintain the family farm. Henry had wanted the farm and me. I gave him the choice and he chose the farm. That did little for my self-confidence, but I sold the farm and used the proceeds to the travel to west fork of Autumn Creek in the Colorado Territory. The little settlement on the creek was called Fairview. I was hoping it lived up to its name.
The house I had rented site unseen was at the edge of the settlement. It had been the home of a family who had died of the fever three years ago. As I opened the door there was dust everywhere. Still the roof seemed sound and with a bit of work it looked like it would clean up nicely.
I had a funds, but they would not last long. I needed to look for a way of earning a living. There was little I could do, but perhaps taking in sewing or maybe cooking. Nice jobs that a woman would do. At least back home they were jobs a woman would do. Here I was not so sure. I couldn't ride or rope and I didn't want to ranch, for that was too much like farming.
After settling in I headed out toward the center of town. All around I saw women in their calico's and bonnets. My traveling outfit was dusty from the stage ride, much like my new home. You could hardly tell it was blue, it looked like some shade of yellow/gray. I had tried dusting it off, but that was an exercise in uselessness. As I walked to the mercantile I was greeted with pleasant nods and understanding smiles. These were the people who would be my neighbors and possibly my customers.
Entering the store I was assailed with the odor of leather, pickles and some others I couldn't put a name to. The owner, John Swan, greeted me as I stepped up to the counter.
“Afternoon, you the new resident in town? I saw you get off the stage and head to the old Isaac house.”
“Yes I am. I have come to buy some cleaning supplies. It seems the only residents of that property have been spiders and mice.” I replied.
“Well I try to stock most of what folks would need. You just look around and if you can't find something let me know. If I don't have it somewhere I suppose I could order it for you. Should only take a few weeks if it is coming from back east.” He smiled.
I found what I needed, paid for them and headed back to the house. I hoped to get things straightened out enough so that I could spend the night there. If not, I would have to pay for a room in the boarding house. It looked nice enough, but this was my home and I wanted to stay there.
#####
The days passed quickly and the town lived up to its name. The valley where the creek meandered through was beautiful. There were cottonwoods, poplars and so many different plants that I wondered if I would ever learn the name of all of them. The people were friendly and I soon had enough work that I was able to provide nicely for myself.
As the creek started to ice over at night I knew that I was facing my first real test. When I wasn't baking or sewing I was out chopping wood and generally preparing for the upcoming winter. That was when it happened.
I had just finished bringing in a load of wood and had my evening meal on the table. As I sat down someone began to bang on the door. I got up, opened the door and there stood Henry.
**to be continued in August**
copyright 2010 by Doris McCraw writing as Angela Raines
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