Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Imagine That!

This is day 18 of the 20 Days of Chill writing challenge hosted by P. J. at A ‘lil HooHaa. Please join me as we share a month of reading, writing and discovery. Today's topic is Imagine that...

Originally published November 15, 2009, I tweaked it for today's challenge post.

Image Source: Pixabay
Imagine that we could vacation on the moon. I heard recently that there is water on the moon.  Now why it has taken NASA and a whole host of scientists 40 years to discover this, I'm not sure.  But what a breakthrough.  This could be the resort of the future, the Lunar Riveria.

Let's think about this.  We need transportation, shuttle pilots, flight attendants, gourmet food service and in-flight movies, which means more shuttles, larger accommodations, more pilots (read astronauts) and flight attendants. To build the resort, we need engineers, architects and plumbers trained in minimal gravity design...think toilets.   We don't want that stuff flowing upstream now do we?

As for electricity, how would we produce that in space.  Burn coal?  Can't.  Fire won't burn without oxygen.  Besides we've already polluted one planet.  Let's hope we've learned something.  As far as I know, there is no wind on the moon, so wind-generated power is not an option.  I know, how about giant solar panels so we can capture solar energy and store it.  If you can store solar-heated water, and power lights and radios, there should be a way to power other things.  This is not new technology.  The concept of solar energy has been around for many years.  As a child I had a solar powered radio - actually I still have it, and it still works.  However, the methods of collecting it, storing it and using it have surely improved over the years.

All of these measures are of little consequence, if we cannot breathe.  This brings us to greatest obstacle - how do we get oxygen in adequate supply for survival?  Possibly large tanks of oxygen and a distribution system?  Too bad we can't pipe it in like natural gas. Picture that pipeline!  To go outside one would need to don a space suit in order to survive the lack of air pressure.  Otherwise all the liquid in your body would boil, and what happens next would not be pretty.  There is an up side to this.  The fashion designers would all be competing to come up with the hottest new line of space apparel. Good-bye itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.  I guess space age swim suits would kinda take the fun out of things - at least for the guys!  That's a argument for indoor swimming pools - heated with the solar panels, especially given that there is an approximate 500 degree swing in temperatures on the moon's surface.  Bottom line is step foot outside without protective gear and you're dead!


At this point I am thinking we need a much larger shuttle system involving cargo transports for the building materials, oxygen tanks, solar panels and storage units, contractors, etc. and that is just to provide life-sustaining structures.  


Speaking of life-sustaining measures, what about food? In such extreme conditions, crops can't be grown or or livestock raised, so all food would have to be transported from earth until we can figure out climate controlled farming.  This would definitely require more transports and create more jobs.

This is just the beginning... Financially speaking, your Lunar Riveria getaway will make a Hawaiian vacation seem like a trip to Walmart, and cause your credit cards to expire on the spot.  So, who's paying for this adventure?  There are many questions unanswered...after all we just discovered that there is water on the moon.


Also see A Lunar Vacation, Part 2.

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Thursday, January 22, 2015

Bears, Beans and Beer

This is day 14 of the 20 Days of Chill writing challenge hosted by P. J. at A ‘lil HooHaa. Please join me as we share a month of reading, writing and discovery. Today's topic is Bears, Beans and Beer.

Having no critical case for the first time in months, Charlie decided his team deserved some time off, so a long weekend was in order.  He and Alex and some of the other guys decided to go camping, get in a little fishing and enjoy some real down time. These were all single guys whose lives were, for the most part, dominated by their demanding jobs, leaving little time for a social life. Alex was the exception, but he was between relationships at the moment, although Jenna did cross his mind now and then.


"Let's set up camp here," Charlie suggested.  "It is close to the lake with plenty of trees for wood and a clearing for building our campfire. It looks like there is enough light left to put up the tents, build the fire pit and catch ourselves some dinner."

"Hey Alex," called Bobby, "You want to tell us what it was like  for you and that pretty little gal to be rescued by SWAT?"

Alex glared at his friend, "I've already explained what happened. You try being kidnapped, drugged, blindfolded and locked up.  Not funny."

"Let it go," said Charlie, "we're here to relax - no shop talk, no cases.  Kyle, you ready to go see what we can pull out of the lake, while these young 'uns finish setting up camp." Kyle grinned.  He and Charlie were only a few years older than Alex and Bobby, but sometimes they exaggerated the span, just to get under their skin...good naturedly, of course.

As the last of the light faded, they still hadn't caught any fish so they headed back to camp. Alex had the campfire going, anticipating some tasty grilled fish.  Seeing the glum faces approaching him, He shouted "I guess it'll be beans tonight," reaching for the frying pan.  He popped open a couple cans of beans and tossed in some vienna sausage.

"Where's the beer?" called Kyle. "After two hours of sitting there feeding the fish...I swear one even broke the surface and thanked me for his dinner...I sure could use a cold one - or three."

"Over by the log," replied Bobby, "wanna toss me one, too?"

With plates filled with beans, sausage and the bread Charlie had grabbed at the bakery on the way out of town, they sat around the campfire eating and swapping stories, the tales growing taller with each beer. Camaraderie at its finest, taking in all that mother nature had to offer, and tomorrow was a brand new day.

The fire put safely out - it wouldn't do for FBI agents to start a forest fire - the men turned in. Charlie and Alex were sharing a tent as were Kyle and Bobby.  The tents were set up with the entrances facing one another.

It was peaceful with the crickets and tree frogs rhythmically chirping their nightly chorus.

As dawn broke, the men stirred and started digging through the fire pit for coals to get the fire going for breakfast.  Soon bacon was sizzling, the aroma wafting on the morning breeze. 
"Charlie that's some mighty fine coffee.  It'd curl my hair if I had any left," laughed Kyle.

Bobby went to fetch the rest of the bread for toast, and came racing back pale and empty handed. "I saw bear tracks behind your tent," looking at Charlie.

"Did you leave any food out last night?" asked Charlie calmly.

"I don't think so...I don't know, maybe.  Uh oh." Bobby groaned.

As they stood there debating whether to pack up and leave or hoist their food from a branch and just go fishing, they heard a rustle  and all four heads turned. 

More rustling, twigs snapping, imaginations soaring.  Four FBI agents straining to see into the woods. Bobby spots something moving, "BEARS!" Three FBI agents draw their guns, staring, waiting. "Bobby" shouted Kyle, "WHERE ARE YOU?"  

"Up here, b-be-bears." Bobby was perched 20 feet up a tree.

About that time out of the underbrush walked the biggest.....wild...Turkey.




For more adventures of Charlie and Alex:

Aliens, Really?
The Colombians
The Key
Stranded
The Last Laugh
The Morning After




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Friday, January 16, 2015

The Morning After

This is day 10 of the 20 Days of Chill writing challenge hosted by P. J. at A ‘lil HooHaa. Please join me as we share a month of reading, writing and discovery. Today's topic is The morning after.

"Hey Alex, you don't look so good," observed Charlie, "where were you yesterday?"  Not much got past Charlie.

Image Source: Wikipedia
"I guess you haven't heard.  Well, in a nutshell, I was having coffee with an angel, and the next thing I know I had been manipulated into staking out her lunch date who turned out to be a member of the mob, as was her ex-boyfriend, and she was involved.  They kidnapped us, blindfolded us and took us to an abandoned building.  Since we were outnumbered and to protect the girl, I went along thinking I could gain an advantage but they jabbed us with a needle and it was lights out. While we were out, they took the flash drive and were probably going to come back and finish us off after they verified what was on the flash drive."

"After we regained our senses, it took us an hour to get the blindfolds off.  They took my gun, badge and Jenna's purse. Fortunately for us they neglected to take my phone so I dialed 911. The police traced the call and sent officers, but they were ambushed when they arrived and were pinned down in the alley.  Jenna was freaked out by the gunfire and was screaming like a crazy person."

"The officers called for reinforcements and in the meantime, I tinkered with the A/C vent to see if I could crawl out and free Jenna.  Once up there I saw that it was barely wide enough to crawl through...dang near got stuck a couple times.  I came out in a hallway about the time that SWAT arrived. Nothing like the FBI being rescued by SWAT."

"They thought I was one of the mob at first since they had taken my gun and badge.  After we got that cleared up, we were questioned, and the henchmen were carted off to await their attorneys. Did I mention my head is still throbbing?"

"Well," said Charlie, "you lived to see another day."

"You know what they say...there's got to be a morning after," Alex quipped.

"So, are you going to see her again?" grinned Charlie.




For more adventures of Charlie and Alex:

Aliens, Really?
The Colombians
The Key
Stranded
The Last Laugh


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Friday, January 9, 2015

Eli, Where Are You?

This is day five of the 20 Days of Chill writing challenge hosted by P. J. at A ‘lil HooHaa. Please join me as we share a month of reading, writing and discovery. Today's topic is Invisible.  This is a continuation of my series following the life of Eli.

Eli and his friend Paul were knocking back a few beers and playing pool at the Come As You Are Saloon when in walks this stranger.  Now strangers aren't an unusual sight at the CAYAS, but this one was different. He had a ominous air about him and a crescent scar across his left cheek. His eyes were dark, almost daring someone to mess with him.

Image Source: Wikimedia
Eli and Paul watched as he worked his way to the bar. "Bartender, I'd like a pomegranate martini." 

When they heard that, Paul burst out laughing.  "A pomegranate martini?  What kind of a drink is that for a man?"  

"Shut up, Paul" urged Eli. "What kind of idiot are you, anyway?"

The stranger turned and stared at Paul.  It was a dark stare.  An evil stare. He started walking toward them, glass in hand. He stops mere inches from Paul, tosses back the martini and slams the glass on the table, sending shards of glass flying.

In a low voice that belied the intensity of the moment he remarked almost casually, "That wasn't very nice." 

By this time Eli wasn't feeling very confident about the outcome, and wishing he could suddenly become invisible. 

"My friend didn't mean anything" Eli interjected, hoping to defuse the situation. "Sometimes he can be a bit crass, but he's totally harmless. By the way, my name is Eli, what's yours?" Being friendly couldn't hurt he thought.

"Name's Rico" growled the stranger, and I don't take kindly to being laughed at," gripping the stem of the broken glass. "I ordered this for my old lady."

Paul never knew when to leave well enough alone and asked, "Then why did you drink it?"

Again that dark, evil stare.  "So I could do this" as he raised his arm. "Nobody laughs at me in front of my woman!"

At that point, Eli again wished he were invisible.  As Paul was about to feel the wrath of Rico, he called out "Eli, where are you?"

"What's the matter with you, I'm right here, but not for long. Run!" shouted Eli.

Both men turned and stared. They'd heard Eli shout, but there was no one there, and Paul asked again, "Where did you go?"

Eli reached out his hand to wave, "over here", and it was his turn to freak out. He couldn't see his hand.  He looked down, he had no legs. He looked in the mirror.  No reflection. "What the...?"

Eli, he said to himself, stay calm and don't say anything...just leave.  Gotta try and figure this out.

What do you think happened to Eli?



If you want to catch up on Eli's adventures:

Birdman
The Princess
Eli and the Redhead 
The Winged Woman

Meet Eli's Mother


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Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Last Laugh

It is day 27 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is How did you find out.  Check out WWFC to find out what everyone else is up to.

Once they were back on the main road Charlie and Alex found a tavern and decided to wait there for their cab. It had been a long hike and they were ready to slack their thirst so they ordered up a couple pints and settled in to wait. The dispatcher had said it would be about an hour.



Image Source: Wikipedia
"Well look who we have here," came an unfamiliar voice from across the room. 

Charlie and Alex looked up to see an olive-skinned man with his black hair pulled back, wearing an expensive suit approaching them. "Who are you?" asked Charlie.


"I heard you were looking for me. My name is Jorge Hernandez. I think you have something that belongs to me."


"And what might that be?" asked Charlie. His mind racing now, the police must be in cahoots with Jorge, and whatever is in that briefcase will incriminate both Jorge and the police, or at least the Sergeant.


"I think you know. Now if you will just hand over the briefcase."


"How did you find out we were coming to talk to you?" asked Alex, as he took a step backward and to the right.  This action shielded his right side from Jorge, just in case...


"Why a little bird told me. You see, Sergeant Ricardo works for me," said Jorge as if that explained it all, and frankly it explained a lot. "Since you won't be leaving here," Jorge patted his side, "there's no reason I shouldn't tell you. I believe a condemned man should know why he's dying."


Alex stood still, only a slight nod to Charlie told him he understood the plan. They would just let Jorge talk, and talk he did.  


"You see Tomas found out that I was skimming some money from the company and using it to fund my...uh... business. He gathered records...heck he even hired a private investigator to get pictures of me and my associates. He was carrying those back to the Colombian authorities, but since the good Sergeant is in my pocket, so to speak, he arranged to have him and the evidence disappear. 
So that is why I can't let you leave," Jorge concluded. 


So the contracts Tomas was working on were just a story for his wife, and for obvious reasons he couldn't tell her the truth. But they had the evidence, and now it was time to put their plan into action.  


Jorge pulled his gun.  "Now place your guns on the table."  Not wanting to risk a shooting in the tavern, they complied.

"OK, but not here," Charlie indicated the tavern keeper and a few patrons along the bar nursing their beers, trying not to notice what was going on. No one wanted to get involved.


As they moved to the parking lot, Charlie said "NOW." Alex spun, catching Jorge's ankles and knocking him to the ground. Drawing his backup gun, Alex said "Stay down, hands behind your head. Charlie couldn't resist saying, "you really didn't think you could take on the FBI did you," as he grabbed the gun. 


"That was way too easy," grinned Alex. His grin faded as he heard the familiar sound of a pump shotgun. Jorge got to his feet, brushing the dirt from his suit. "You really didn't think I would come here alone did you, Mr. FBI man?"


As they turned to face Sergeant Ricardo, dressed in his uniform so everything would look official and above board, Jorge took his gun back and theirs too.  He motioned them toward the Jeep with the barrel of the gun. It would look like he was escorting prisoners.  


Charlie said, "I'm sorry Alex." 


"It's okay Charlie, it's not your fault and besides we're not giving up."


Before they reached the Jeep, their taxi came barreling into the parking lot, throwing gravel and kicking up a cloud of dust. It was just those few seconds of chaos that gave Alex and Charlie the break they needed. Alex lunged at the Sergeant and struggled for the shotgun. Just as Jorge started to raise his gun, the shotgun fired striking Jorge in the shoulder. With Alex controlling the shotgun, Charlie promptly relieved Jorge of his gun for the last time.  


"You know my Mama always said, 'he who laughs last, laughs the loudest'. Guess who's laughing now, Jorge?"


Case closed.


To catch up with the story so far:

Beyond the Window
Risky Business
Aliens, Really?
The Colombians
The Key
Stranded

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Stranded

It is day 26 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is Naked and Lost.  Head on over to WWFC to find out how the writing-weary participants handled this one.

"Sergeant" called Charlie again, "We're ready to go!"


No answer.  

Image Source: Wikipedia

"Alex, can you see the jeep?"


"Nope.  How far did we walk anyway?"  


Feeling a little uneasy now, Charlie said "let's retrace our steps and get back to the Jeep."  


What he didn't say was if the Jeep was still there.  The Sergeant should have heard him, but then he hadn't seemed all that enthusiastic to assist them either, but had to follow the Captain's orders.  The Captain, himself, was not very forthcoming with information either.


Having made their way back to what passed for a road in the midst of the jungle-like surroundings, they discovered that indeed the Jeep was gone.


"Well, now that sucks," said Alex, as they both started checking their cell phones...no signal.


"We start walking" said Charlie.  He estimated they were about five miles from main road. "We'll just walk out and maybe we can get a ride back into town." 


Being the senior agent, Charlie figured the odds of getting a ride were slim to none.  These people didn't want them here, and locals who would otherwise do a good turn for someone needing help, would think twice now.  This only confirmed his theory that someone here was behind the plane crash and didn't want their secret revealed.


What had started out as a recon of the crash site, turned into a forced march through a jungle filled with hazards, armed with their guns and cell phone with no service.  Still the odds were in their favor if they reached the road before dark.


Aloud he said "at least we're not naked and lost in the jungle."


"Good point."


As they trudged along the rutted dirt road, each absorbed in their own thoughts, a couple of brightly colored parrots squawked loudly, startling them.


"Did you jump, Alex" teased Charlie.


"Of course not.  I just stumbled over a root."


"Me too." admitted Charlie.  "I've been thinking about the case.  First nobody in the States had any information, then there was the crazy housekeeper who kept talking about aliens, and now we are stranded in a South American jungle.  I hope Jorge has some information, but we'll process the briefcase before question him."


Alex was silent and sensing his concern, Charlie said "Don't fret, this may be your first field case, but I've been around the block a few times.  We keep walking...we should reach the main road in about half an hour. We'll have cell service so we can call for a taxi."  


"You hear that?  Sounds like a truck so, the road must be close by.  Check your phone.  I've got signal."  


"You call us a taxi, Alex.  I'll call the Captain to inform him of his Sergeant's behavior, that is unless he's in on it too.  In which case we've just tipped our hand.  No, on second thought I'll hold off on making that call until I know who we can trust."


Check back tomorrow to see how they wrap up the case.



To catch up with the story so far:

Beyond the Window
Risky Business
Aliens, Really?
The Colombians
The Key

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

The Key?

It is day 25 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is Social Media.  I hear there's a party over at WWFC if you need more socializing.

The FBI jet touched down in Colombia late Friday night.  Alex had leftover fortune cookies for his dinner. "Good thing I got extra" he joked.  "The last one said 'don't drink the water'.  Ha!"


Charlie and Alex were met by the Colombian police, and they weren't looking all that friendly.  "I understand you're here investigating the plane crash.  "It went down in an isolated area with rugged terrain.  Will you be wanting to visit the site" asked the officer who was apparently in charge, likely the captain.


"Yes" said Charlie.  "We would like to go there first thing in the morning.  Can you arrange for our transport to the hotel?"


"Yes" was the brusque response.  "Sergeant, please escort these agents to the hotel and see that they have whatever they need."


"Thank you Captain, good night."


Charlie and Alex climbed into the police car and off they went, arriving at the hotel in 20 minutes. They checked in and ordered up some room service so they could get started and lay out a plan for tomorrow.  "What'll it be tonight? Burgers or some local fare?"


"Anything but Chinese, I don't need any more good fortunes," laughed Alex, checking Facebook. "You won't believe what Diane is saying about me.  She thinks I made it up, that I'm really out on the town tonight. Ha! I'm really living it up right?"


"What did you tell her anyway.  Never mind, I don't want to know" said Charlie shaking his head. Alex fancied himself quite the ladies man.


After chowing down on a large plate of empanadas and tamales, they got down to brass tacks. "We'll visit the crash site first then we'll talk to everyone who ever had contact with Tomas.  His company has an office here.  Opening yet another file, "it says here a Jorge Hernendez is the manager.  He's been there for about two years.   Maybe he knows something...if he'll talk. 

The alarm rings at 6:00 and after a breakfast of fresh fruit and Spanish tortillas, they met the Sergent to drive to the crash site, or at least as far as they could go by jeep.  They had to hike the rest of the way.  "Why didn't I think to bring insect repellent," complained Alex to no one in particular?  


"At least it went down over land.  We could be wearing flippers instead of hiking boots," said Charlie, swatting another mosquito.



Image Source: Wikipedia
As they suspected, there was not much left of the plane, but they wanted to look at it with fresh eyes.  They rummaged through undergrowth and down ravines, then suddenly Alex hollers, "hey Charlie, I think I may have found something."  

Between the fire that raged through the wreckage, and the subsequent rain, most of the personal effects of the passengers was destroyed.  However, Alex found the remnants of a briefcase.  It had been thrown so far from the plane it survived the fire, and the local investigators had missed it.  


"Good job Alex," Charlie congratulated.  "Maybe that briefcase holds the key to who wanted who dead.  In the meantime, we go see Mr. Hernendez."


"Sergeant, we're ready to go now."



To catch up with the story so far:

Beyond the Window
Risky Business
Aliens, Really?
The Colombians

Friday, February 7, 2014

Give Me a Hint

It is day 7 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is Hint, hint.  So take a hint and go check out the other participants at WWFC.

"Oh please tell me.  I'll just die, die I tell you.  Won't you even give me a hint.  I've gotta know.  Oh please, pretty please" begged Charlie.  


"Never!  Not in a million years" replied his older sister. "You'd just blab it everywhere.  Nope, not a chance."


"Patty" complained Charlie, "I'd never tell.  I promise...cross my heart.  You're so mean.  You never tell me anything."

"Charlie, you really want me to tell you something" teased Patty?


"Sure" said Charlie, all ears.


"Get lost" she responded, frustrated at her little brother's persistence.


"Gee, I can take a hint" he grumbled as he shuffled away.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Risky Business

It is day 2 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is It Was No Accident!

A while back I wrote Beyond the Window for Magpie Tales, which I used as an inspiration for this story.  It ended by telling us "what happens next will free them both."  I wouldn't exactly say they were "freed" but I guess it depends on how you look at it.



Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth
Maggie sat in a quaint outdoor restaurant lunching with several friends, the sun was shining and the tea was sweet.  It was the first time she had smiled in months.  The images that had penetrated her dreams and haunted every waking moment were beginning to blur as time marched forward, taking her reluctantly with it.

Six months earlier she had been coping with the day to day ups and downs of her husband's business, a business that provided well for her but at the same time left her with unanswered questions.

"I have to go to Colombia for a few days, maybe a week" said Tomas.  "There are some contracts that I must see to personally.  When I get back, we will take a trip.  Anywhere you would like to go.  I will even make the arrangements myself."

He is trying, she thought, and smiled her thanks.  "I'll think about it and let you know what I decide" Maggie responded, yet unconvinced the trip would actually take place.

Tomas packed his bag and called his driver to take him to the airport where he boarded the plane.  

"Welcome aboard sir" called the pilot.  

"Where is Manuel?" asked Tomas. 

"He came down with the flu, sir, and I am filling in until he recovers.  Enjoy your flight."

"Thank you."  Tomas proceeded to his seat, and after they were airborne, he asked the flight attendant for a scotch and soda.  His drink finished, he tipped his seat back for a nap.  He was tired and it would be a late night.

As he drifted off, his dreams turned to Maggie.  He saw tears in her eyes, and flowers.  There were so many flowers.  Where was she, and why was she crying?

About that time there was a loud boom as the plane lurched sideways, and there was a gaping hole where the forward bathroom had been.  The explosion had taken out the left engines, the wing was in flames and the pilot was dead.

NTSB investigated, and eventually the voice recorder was recovered.  There was nothing to indicate any mechanical malfunction or human error.  Further scrutiny found the remnants of an explosive device among the wreckage which was believed to have been detonated remotely.  Investigators were still trying to piece together what happened and determine who the intended target was.  Was it Tomas, the dead pilot, or Manuel who was sick with the flu?

Back in Miami, a representative of the NTSB and an FBI agent meet with Maggie.  

"Mrs. Garza, we are so sorry for your loss.  We want you to know that the crash was no accident, and we are continuing our investigation.  Is there anything you can tell us about your husband's business?"




Friday, October 11, 2013

The Rose Garden: The Next Generation

"Gerry, it's time" shrieked Allison.

Gerald was going over some notes on his latest project in preparation for the presentation on Monday.  "What's that you said, dear?"

"I SAID IT'S TIME!"

"Oh...OH, it's THAT time.  These were the words he had both been looking forward to and dreading for the last nine months.  He had mentally rehearsed each moment and memorized every turn to the hospital, including several alternate routes in case of traffic.

Now the time had come.

"Think" he mumbled to himself.  "Grab the car, put Allison in the bag...hospital, I gotta call the hospital. No, bring the car around and wait, I'll get it...just calm down...and breathe."

"Gerry, I'm the one whose supposed to breathe.  You call the hospital and tell them we're coming, take the bag to the car and bring it around to the front.  We'll call Mom on the way."

"Sheesh, there's no one more nervous than a new father-to-be" declared Allison.  "It will be all right."

Gerald brings the car up the front drive and helps Allison into the passenger's seat.  "Let me slide the seat back for you."   "Thank God this is it" she exclaimed. 

Allison's size had been an extreme source of frustration from being unable to tie her shoes to the shapeless dresses she'd had to wear for the last three months. While she embraced the thought of motherhood, she was a fashionable gal, and did not enjoy feeling frumpy.  Even Gerald's constant reassurance that she was indeed the most beautiful woman on earth did not help when every time she walked past a mirror she saw a blimp in maternity clothes.

They reached the hospital without incident, and Gerald promptly announced "I need a doctor...We're having a baby."

"Relax" replied the nurse, calling for an orderly.  "We'll take good care of your wife.  If you would just step over here and fill out these papers.  We'll take you to her as soon as she is situated in her room."

"Is this your first?"

"My first what?  Wife?  Yes, we were married last year.  No, you mean baby.  Yes, it's my first, how can you tell?"

"Well, under reason for hospitalization, you put "we're having a baby."

24 hours later...

"She's beautiful," cooed a jubilant Gerald.  "She looks just like my mother when she was a baby.  I have her old photo album, and there is a picture of her in my grandmother's arms.  She had beautiful blond curls, too.  I'll have to show it to you sometime.  Oh, I've been going on and on, and I bet you just want to sleep.  I'll get the nurse to take the baby back to the nursery, and go make those phone calls.  Wait, I've got to get a picture to send everyone,  I know I'll just email them instead of calling. 

"Gerry, I love you, but just go...please.  It's been a really long day-all 24 hours of it.  I'll see you tomorrow.

Back at home, Gerald revels in his new fatherhood status, and prepares to send a picture of who?  She doesn't even have a name yet.  He regroups and sends a picture of his lovely new daughter...name TBA.

When Gerald arrived back at the hospital the next morning, he was so excited.  He knew what he wanted to call their daughter.  Upon entering Allison's room he blurted out "Her name is Abigail Christine!  For our mothers, that is if you like it."

"Good morning to you, too, Gerry.  Of course I like it.  It's perfect!  I just wish I could have met your mother."  She smiled a sad smile, remembering the yellow roses.  "We shall call her Abbey, and paint her room yellow - no pink for my daughter."

Gerald laughed at the thought.  For all her femininity, Allison hated pink, especially that pale, baby girl pink so many mothers dressed their little girls in.  Not for Abbey!

"The doctor said you can go home this afternoon, and everything is all ready so all you have to do is rest.  Janet even brought over a casserole and chocolate cake for our dinner."

"She's a sweetheart" replied Allison, "and such a good cook.  Oh, is my mother coming over?"

"Of course she is" said Gerald with a smile.  He truly liked his mother-in-law and welcomed her help.  He knew that most new mothers wanted their mothers nearby.  Since babies don't come with instructions, their experience is appreciated.

Once they got Allison and Abbey settled into the master bedroom where the crib had been set up, Gerald set about heating the casserole and setting the table.  He knew Allison wouldn't feel like sitting up too long, so everything was in place before he brought her to the table.  

"Put me down, please" she complained.  "Thank you for caring, but I can walk.  I just had a baby, not a broken leg."  Abbey was in a baby seat on the chair facing Allison.  Christine, Allison's mother, sat cooing at the baby, "you are such a beautiful baby.  I love that little yellow outfit.  It's perfect for you."

As they sat enjoying their dinner, they heard an odd sound coming from the side porch next to the kitchen.  Gerald went to investigate, but saw nothing and returned to the table.  There it was again.  It sounded like someone walking in the kitchen.  Again Gerald left the table.  What he saw when he walked into the kitchen filled him with great joy, and at the same time left him feeling most uneasy.  

There in her apron with her white hair neatly coiled atop her head stood his mother.  Well, not exactly in the flesh, but nevertheless, it was her, and in her hand was a bouquet of exquisite yellow roses.

"Hello Gerald" she whispered.  "These are for Allison.  I am so proud of you and your lovely family.  I loved her from the first time I saw her in the garden."

"Oh Mother, I knew you were here.  That I wasn't crazy or imagining things.  It is wonderful to see you now.  I have so many questions...like how...?"

"Would it be too much for an old woman to ask to see her grandchild?" interrupted Abigail.

Gerald was stunned, totally at a loss for words.  What would they think?  How could he possibly explain this?

"Gerry, who are you talking to", called Allison.  "Was someone at the door?"

"Be right there dear" he called back.  He was so used to talking to his mother in the garden he forgot to keep his voice down.

"Now what do I do" he whispered?

"Let me handle this.  After all it is my afterlife, right?" answered his mother with a smile.

With much trepidation, Gerald watched as his mother marched into the dining room to stand before Allison.

"Hello, I am Abigail, Gerald's mother.  I am so pleased to finally meet you."

Without blinking, Allison extended her hand toward Abigail and said "I am equally pleased to finally meet you as well."

Well, Gerald's jaw nearly dropped to the floor and Christine turned several shades of pale.  Although she believed in life beyond death, she had never actually encountered it herself.

"You mean you knew?  How..."

"First of all you spend an awful lot of time in the garden talking to yourself when you think no one notices" explained Allison.   "Then there was the appearance of the yellow rose on my plate after our first dinner together, and the brooch at our reception with no explanation for that either.  It was just too much to be a coincidence."

"At the hospital, when you told me what you wanted to name her, I almost said I wish I could meet your mother instead of I wish I could have met, your mother." 

"It helps, too, that I believe in the afterlife.  You see I had a 'visit' from my grandmother when I was about ten.  She had passed away a few years earlier."

Allison turned to her mother-in-law, "would you like to meet your granddaughter?"

She nodded. 

"Say hello to Abigail Christine."



For those of you who would like to catch up, here are the first 4 parts of the series.
The Rose Garden
The Restoration 
The Rose Garden:  Allison
The Rose Garden:  The Wedding