a story

Writing a novel is in reality like birthing a baby.
There are the preparations.
Instead of diapers and baby clothes-
there are the endless pencils, paper, dictionary,
computer and of course eraser and printer.

Then there is the actual birth of the baby.
The labor involved.
The waiting.
The pain.

And then the final achievement -
a bouncing baby boy or girl.

With writing.  You deal with the actual ideas.
The characters, the plot, the scene.  The
discarding of one idea or maybe all of them.
The killing off of a character or characters.

Some sleepless nights -
just like when junior or missy wakes up for
their bottle or feeding.

As the saying goes
It was the best of times -
and
It was the worst of times.

Charlotte looked at the words on the computer screen.
Her freckled face complete with an upturned nose was expressionless.
Thick black lashes rounded out and framed her
blue oval eyes.
And a red pencil with a green point and pink eraser
tap tap tappped on the brown square computer table.
He right hand was under her chin and her left hand  was firmly
holding on to the pen.

She reread the words on the computer screen.
And then with a soft exhalation murmured, "Where do I go from here?"

She had been stuck at this spot for the last five minutes waiting for a
breakthrough but none seemed to be coming.

She squinted her eyes shut one more time as though that motion
would squeeze her story into life.

She sat that way for a moment.  And then exclaimed out loud and to
no one particular "That's it."

She shook her head and her curly red hair bounced in unison to the shake
of the bones in her body.

She stood up with such force that the brown knobbed chair whit wheels
that she was sitting on rolled back and hit the adjacent blue flowered
wallpaperd wall.
The chair hit so hard that Grandma Molly and Grandpa Ted's picture rattled.

"Sorry," she murmured, in the direction of the picture.

"Time for a walk." she said out loud.

By the time she got to the screen door her small Yorkie was at her feet.

"Want to go out, boy, then come on let's go."

She grabbed her green jacket from the hall closet and took Murphy's leash
off the painted green nail on the wall.

A full length mirror in the front hall showed a reflection of a young girl
nicely built in her twenties.  She had on a yellow blouse with the hint
of daisies on the fringe of her white collar and faded daises followed
the buttons down to her belly button.   She had on a pair of black linen
hiphuggers and her bellybutton had a piercing, although there was none
to be seen at the moment.   

 "Okay, Murphy, wait one minute while I find my slide-ins."

That's what she called her favorite pair of beach sandals.   They were brown,
and had jeweled straps of different gem colors that held her feet in.

These slide-ins stayed in her country home when she went back to her job
in the city in September.

She looked around for them and finally found them sticking out from
under the bottom of the six foot country clock that had been keeping
perfect time for the last three years that she had been coming to Hollow Springs.

She swore somebody must have been winding the key to this
clock.  But as of yet she had no inkling who it could be or
why they would be winding this brown chestnut clock.

It was a one of a kind clock.  At least the only one she had ever
seen like it.

For numbers somebody had painted tiny dwarfs for each of the
numbers and each dwarf held something different in his hand. 
Numbe 12 held a candle.   And number 6 held a light bulb.


Sometimes she thought this was a strange house that Grandma
and Grandpa Kelly had left her - but she thought it would
be perfect for writing that novel that was going to burst on to
the writer scene some time soon.

She got one sandal on and Murphy was licking her other foot
to remind her to hurry up.

"Okay, Murphy," she laughed.  We are going outside.

She hooked the gold chain of the red leash with painted dog bones
on to Murphy's matching red collar also with dog bones painted on to it.
and she opened the white screen door.

Before her eyes was the ocean.
Charlotte stood for a moment on the painted white veranda and took in a deep breath. 
The inhaled the fresh air through her nose and her stomach slowly expanded and with
a deep whish she let the air out through her small pursed lips.

She had been taught how to breathe this way in a meditation yoga class and she
consistently breathed this way when taking her first walk of the day.

The view was breathtaking and the weather was grand  and Charlotte said a small thank you to the powers
that be for granting her such a day.

She walked ten feet to the edge of the porch and surveyed the
scene.

To the right of her was a hammock that was attached to the side of the
house to the front porch rail by a gold hook that had been driven into the banister.
Always inviting.  But today she had different plans.

A small frown formed between her eyebrows as she nooticed that today there was a large yellow straw hat with a blue ribbon tied around the rim and also a blue and white blanket with an inlay of abstract
shapes embroidered on one side laying to the side of the hammock.

Charlotte didn't recognize the blanket or the hat and thought that maybe
Molly her next door neighbor was being neighborly in making sure that
she had something warm  to hold on to those cold nights in April and to
protect her from the harmful rays of the sun with the hat.

But the frown came before she thought of her neighbor.
She didn't like surprises and she could only think that Molly could have done
such a thing.

"That was a nice gesture," Charlotte thought out loud.


Molly lived with her uncle about a mile down the road.

To get to Molly's you would have to walk from Charlotte's porch about thirty feet
to the mailbox which mailbox  was made in the form of a  wooden sailboat, the door to the
cabin being where the mailman would put the mail.  The ship was bolted to a wooden
barrel.   And to get to Molly's you would have to make a left at the mailbox and walk
in the direction of the pier which was a mile down the road.

She hadn't heard Molly or her old red pickup that morning and wondered when she had come.

She said out loud, " I must have been sleeping." and dismissed
the thought.

"Come on Murphy, let's go."

Murphy answered with a couple of barks and the two of them started off on their morning walk.

Charlotte started talking as she walked which was something Murphy was accustomed to.

Sometimes her thoughts were just in her head.  Other times they were out loud like at this moment.
Murphy twitched his ears in her direction and looked at Charlotte expectantly.
Charlotte knew Murphy was her confidant and wouldn't tell anyone what she said.  She knew that
Murphy was almost human, but he was still only a dog and dogs couldn't talk.
 Charlotte knew this.  She laughed out loud.   There was no one around.  She could talk all she wanted.

There were two weather beaten wooden chairs down by the water's edge.

They were there when she arrived in early April and since they were on
her property she assumed they came with the bungalow.

They were wooden slat chairs and Charlotte had painted one
green and the other yellow.
They were the kind you could sink your behind into and put your
head back, close your eyes and just rest.
Charlotte loved the chairs.


At this time Charlotte and Murphy headed toward the beach.   The sand
was packed hard so Charlotte could still walk in her sandals without too
much trouble.

It was 7 o'clock in the morning and from all instances it looked like it was going to be a warm
day.  The sun was shining orange and the waves were breaking a little ways from
her.  She reached the chairs and Charlotte let Murphy off the leash as it didn't
seem to matter much since there was no one else around.

"Go ahead, boy, run, have a good time."

Murphy ran around in circles a few times and then burrowed his nose in something
he found of interest.

Charlotte turned her attention to the ocean.

It was a turquoise green today. Crystal clear like melted ice water.
The waves broke over one another and in their calm they left a silver
sheen that gave off the illusion of diamonds dancing on the water.


Charlotte, breathed in the clear air, closed her eyes and gasped,
"these are my jewels."

The large orange sun reminded her of gold.  And she knew it was an omen
of money in the bank.

"What did you say?" a male voice surprised her

Charlotte's eyes flew open and her body trembled.

She couldn't place the voice but yet it had a distinct familiarity to it. .


She was about to retort that whoever's voice it belonged to that this
stretch of beach was private so they were trespassing, but when she looked
to her left she could only see Murphy sniffing at the wind that had picked up, and
when she looked to her right there was nothing to be seen but
miles of beach .


Turning her attention to face the ocean she saw only the penciled black
line of the distant horizon in front of her. 

There was no one around and all that Charlotte could hear now
was the crashing of the waves as they hit the beach.

She pulled her jacket tighter around her and debated as to
whether she should head back to the cottage. 
 
.She took in a deep breath and looked once more straight ahead.
There was a sailboat coming into view and it seemed to be
heading in her direction.  For a moment she forgot the
strange but familiar voice she had heard and stood looking at the
bow of the sailboat.   There were words painted on it and in a few
moments she would be able to make it out.   There it was
the name of the boat was Joy.  And it was painted in big
bold letters on the bow of the boat.

It was a small sailboat
And she could make out a man in blue jeans and a denim
shirt controlling the mast.
He was wearing a blue baseball cap with the rim to the
back and he came as close to the beach as he could without coming
all the way in.

He waved and she didn't  respond.
He made a sharp right and she watched the boat as
it sailed down hugging the shore line but not coming in.

When she could see it no longer she stood for a few moments
listening to the wind in her ears and wondering what that was
all about.

Whose boat was that?

Charlotte didn't like her quiet being interrupted like this.

First the strange voice and
now an unfamiliar sailboat with of all things the name Joy
painted on it.

Charlotte did not like this at all.
Her morning of quiet moments had been shattered with a
little mystery and  it was a little unrattling to say the least.

Her mind went back five years.
She and her best friend Joy had graduated from college
Both had gotten their masters.

Charlotte had gotten a masters of fine art in literature
and
Joy had gotten her P.H.D. in antrhopology.

Charlotte was off to New York City to work for a publicist and
Joy was offered an opportunity she couldn't say no to.
She was to work on an archeological dig and  search
the mines off the coral caves in Hermit's Bay in Lima Peru.
She was working with two of the most renowned scientists in that
field.  She was both thrilled and excited for this opportunity.

Charlotte had seen her friend off  from  Kennedy Airport and that was the last
time she had seen her.

They kept in contact for ten months and then Joy had disappeared. 
According to witnesses she and another colleague had taken the motorized jet skis
out at 5 a.m.A.M.to check on some trappings and instruments in one of the caves and
they had not come back.

Authorities searched for her for two weeks but could not find Joy or her companion
Dan Lanhorn .

The jet skis were each found five miles off shore.

The police had a couple of theories as to what could have happened, but they admitted
they had no solid clues as to what could have happened to the two anthropologists.

They could have fallen overboard.   Or they could have gotten lost in the caves.
Or somebody could have taken them.  Or they could have ran away.  Maybe they were
lovers and decided to leave.  The police didn't know.  And at this time they had no solid clues.

Charlotte went and spent a month at the site and couldn't come up with any other explanation.
Joy was no where to be found.  And no one had seen her since the night before she disappeared.

Dan Lanhorn was also somewhat of a mystery.  He was 35.  Came from Madison Wisconsin.
Was an only child.  And from what Charlotee could find out his parents were deceased and  had
been for quite a while.

Regretfully Charlotte had to come back home with no real answers.

Charlotte blinked herself back to reality as Murphy munched on her big toe.

"Ok, big fella, enough time outside.  Let's go back and get something to eat."

Charlotte hooked Murphy back on to the leash and started back to the cottage.

Halfway there she gave an uneasy glance over her left shoulder and then her
right shoulder  to see if anything was there.

All that met her gaze was a clean sweep of the beach and the blue horizon.

She turned towards the cottage with an unknown feeling in the underlings of her belly.



                                             CHAPTER 2


The young woman put her hand in the water font at St. Mary's Chapel in Arson Woods, Peru
and blessed herself.

She moved toward the front of the church bowed before the crucifix and found
a seat in the second pew.

It was 6 o'clock in the morning and soon Father Andre would arrive to say mass
before a group of twenty people scattered throughout the small chapel. 

 It had been more or less the same people each morning. 

Father Andre was of the Franciscan Order and he had been a young priest when he
first arrived in Peru twenty years ago. 
Now, he was 50 and as he reflected on it this morning it didn't seem that long ago.   

He didn't know when it started to change but gradually it changed from twenty
people to fifty people.

Most of the people in the chapel were townspeople and had businesses in the surrounding
area.   There was the owner of the local restaurant.   There was Juan who had a bricklaying
business.   Marguerita ran a cleaning store.   Meghan was the local madame.  Pedro shoed
horses.  They all came to church to get the Lord's blessings and ask Our Lady for favors.

The woman in the second pew was somewhat of a mystery.   She had started coming
to the chapel seven years ago.   She wore the garb of the pesant woman but he knew
she wasn't from these parts.   She kept to herself.   She opened a business selling yarns
and teaching the local women how to knit, crochet or use a loom.   She didn't make a lot
of money but all the people bartered.

Some of the young women had started going to her store.  And as Father Andre noted
some of the older women too.

Slowly it had just started off with this one lone woman in the second pew.   But as time went
on there were about ten of them now in two pews.  

Father Andre had come to find out by local gossip that the young woman's name was Joy.