Installment #2...Cynthia Browder

Installment #2

Cynthia Browder

 

     Cynthia pushed the gear shift up to “P”, set the emergency brake, and turned the key to the off position.  The little Mazda quietly shut down.  She loved this car.  There was just something about a Mazda and the way it handled.  Sporty.  That was it.  Blue would not have been her first choice, but when Rick had seen it on the lot and knew it was the owners demo car he had lit up.  That would drop the price several thousand dollars and he had been looking for something dependable for Cyndi and he had found it!

     And he was right.  It was a four door, but small with four cylinders.  The inside was as nice as a luxury car at an economy price.  The gas mileage was phenomenal and that was good.  He drove a little Mazda Sundowner pickup that he loved, but Cyndi needed a car.  So the deal had been made. 

     Before she opened the door, she remembered back to the visit from the state patrol a year ago.  Rick had been late getting home from work and she had began to worry.  She knew when she opened the door why the trooper was there as soon as she saw him.  The little gray Sundowner pickup had been no match for the big Ford ¾ ton pickup that had crossed the center line and hit him head-on.

     He was in the hospital and he would drive her there.  It was not good.  Was there someone the trooper could call?  No one near.  The kids were back in Kansas.  Oh, wait!  Yes, he had kids.  Right here in Pueblo, Colorado.  Right up the street actually.  Yes, call them.    Thank you. 

     And so she had met the two girls at the hospital.  Allen and Fred were further and would be flying in as soon as they could get a flight.  She had set through the night with Angie and Martha.  Rick was still as death.  Since there was no one to tell them not to, the EMT’s had placed him on life support.  They prayed, but there were no signs of life.  The boys came the next day and it was the same.  And so it stayed in that limbo for three weeks.  Feeding tubes giving him nourishment, a respirator breathing for him, a catheter to empty him, nurses to bathe him.  The boys went home.  The girls returned to their lives.  And Cynthia waited.

     When the waiting became too much, she hired an attorney.  Yes, he could be unhooked.  There were no signs of life on any of the screens.  And so she called the kids together.  She presented the facts.  She told them the cold, hard facts, which they already knew.  Five signatures later, with hospice in the room, the ventilator was turned off, and the room echoed with Rick breathing in the same rhythm as the respirator had breathed when it was hooked up and working.  Cynthia knew a moment of hope.  She held that hope for the next few hours.  She knew it was just muscles doing what they had been trained to do, but still she hoped.  At 5:26 the next morning, that stopped and Rick Browder’s spirit left his body.

     She was a widow at the age of 51.  She would have no one to hold her when she cried.  No one to share her joys with at the end of the day.  She would eat alone, walk alone, dream alone.  She suddenly began to cry alone in the stillness of the car.  The road ahead that was her life suddenly became very long and desolate.  Life was not fair and her sadness was slowly replaced by an anger that threatened to consume her.  Then she laughed.  She was remembering the single piece of paper that the hospice worker had given her.  The title had been The Normal stages of Grief.  Yes, as surprising as tonight had been, it was normal. She sighed as she picked up her purse, opened the car door and headed into her home.

*****************Buy my Book*******************

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Long Ago and Not Very Far Away Installment #1

Long Ago and Not Very Far Away

Installment #1...Tucker Fuhrman

Tucker Fuhrman brushed an invisible piece of lint off his trousers. He knew he was going to buy this BMW, but he did not want the salesman to know his plans. Let him sweat. It was just exactly what he needed to make him feel good about himself. His new company had taken off in a blaze and he had the money. He did not do things like this very often, but today he would.

"I don't know, John. I am not sure I like the color. Suppose I could have it painted but it would be quicker and easier to just buy a black one to begin with, don't you think?" He pulled his chapstick from his pocket, removed the cap and applied it to his lips. Colorado was very good at drying his lips, hands and every other part that reached the air. St. Louis had been more humid and he liked that, but he lived here now, so he made his consessions. St. Louis was far away. He let his mind think briefly about Janice and then turned to the lot and smiled at the Corvette waiting there. " I got to go. I will call you in a day or so. In the meantime see what you come up with."

He folded his 6'2" frame into the bright green corvette and inserted the key in the ignition. It sparked to life instantly and he pulled the seat belt across his chest and clicked it into the latch. He hated to leave the BMW alone in the lot, but this was a game that had to be played and it was one he would win. The BMW was brown and brown would never do. The leather upholstery was grey and that was good, but brown was just not in his vocabulary.

Tucker pulled into the parking lot of the little Italian Deli two blocks before he got to his house. He was hungry for something, but not sure what. Italian for sure. He settled for a bowl of spaghetti, two meatballs, some garlic bread and then after a moment of reflection decided he needed a salad. The lower track was just not up to par and something green might be in order. Carole, the server, placed it in the bag, added it up and then asked, "Anything else, Tucker? Something to drink maybe?" She looked at him coyly through her long lashes.

"No, thanks, Carole. I have some wine in the fridge and that will just have to do."

"You know I would love to help you drink that. Don't you ever get lonely? I sure do."

"No, I don't. How much?" He gestured at the sack of food.

Carole glanced at the ticket and announced, "Nine dollars and eleven cents." She pouted a little at Tucker and he ignored her as he laid a ten and 3 ones on the counter, picked up the bag and turned to go. As he exited the door he overheard her snarl at the cook, "Fucking fag! He ain't fooling me."

Tucker made a mental note to look for another Italian Deli in the neighborhood. It was just easier than trying to explain to women like Carole that he was looking for a woman with class and he would not settle for anything short of what he wanted. He was not going to rut around with someone just to pass the time of day so they would not think he was gay. He knew he was straight and he knew what he wanted. Was it his fault that the women in the world he lived in were all just looking for a husband and not really caring about what he wanted? Lord only knows he had spent 55 years on this earth being disappointed and he could sure spend another 55 if he needed.

He pulled into the alley of the condo on Clifton and pointed the opener at the garage door. It raised quickly and he did not hesitate as he pulled in beside his three motorcycles. They were better than a woman any day of the week. As he opened the door of the Corvette he leaned across the seat and picked up his sack. Hooking his keys in the belt loop of his jeans he threw his leg over the Norton and settled his lanky frame on the leather seat. This was heaven. He pulled the bowl of spaghetti out of the sack, fished out the plastic fork and proceeded to devour the meatballs, the spaghetti, the garlic bread, but the green salad remained in the bag. So much for the problem with the lower tract. He ran his hands lovingly over the handlebars of the Norton. Maybe he would take it for a little spin tomorrow. Once more his mind thought back to Janice.

He had planned on marrying her. He really had. But that was 30 years ago, and her mother had not thought him good enough for her. Maybe he hadn't been then. Maybe he still wasn't, but one thing was sure, it had been her final call. He still remembered her standing small beside her ramrod stiff mother. He remembered the tears in her eyes as he turned and walked out the door. He had walked slowly to the Triumph hope against hope that she would run to him and into his arms. But she hadn't. Her mother had won and he had left St Louis and gone to Cleveland. That part of his life was over. Janice was dead to him and St Louis was far away.

Tucker got off the Norton and entered his condo, turning off the light in the garage and on Janice, the lost love of his life. The one he measured all women by in this present life.

Long ago and not very far away...

Looking back it seems I always knew him, but just met him yesterday.  I had just published my first book when he left me.  I had the next one in my mind and wanted to get started on it, but I promised him a couple weeks before he passed away that the next book I wrote would be about him and me if we had met in a different place and time.  He gave me all his past history and I took notes.  Since that time I have tried to write on my next novel, but it is not happening.
So brace yourselves, kiddies, you are about to embark on another adventure and this one is going to be pure fantasy.  I am not sure that we will live happily ever after, but who knows what may happen in this land of make believe?  I will have his brother on board if I need clarification as to his younger days.
But rest assured, I will not use his name or my name.  That is just to protect his family.  My friends knew him.  They knew all about the last 3 years and we can not lose sight of the fact that this is pure fiction.  The only part that really happens is his death.  Just remember,  all fiction is some truth and most truth is partly fiction. 
That being said, I hope to publish my first installment on Monday.  I think this one will go fairly quickly since it is all one big day dream!  In the meantime, you might think about giving a copy of my first book as a Christmas gift to some one who reads.  That would please them and keep me out of the poor house.
Just click right here to find it online.

I have run amok!

Now, I know you popped in here to read the next installment, but I got some bad news for you.  Since the sales of my first book are stalled out I have rethought the whole thing.  Don't get me wrong, I am full of ideas and there is another book just busting to get out, but I am not a rich woman.  So until I can pay for the last one, I am not going to worry about the next one.
And how silly is that to put it on here for free and then think some one might actually buy it?  Not good marketing from this end.  So the book is on a flash drive waiting to be finished. When the first one is paid for the second one will be printed and that is how it goes.
In the meantime, here is this blog and nothing to put on it.  So my thoughts are that I am going to wander around this town and pop in to businesses here and there and then give you a report.  Say I decide I want a hamburger and I drop in to McDonalds.  Does the clerk smile?  Make eye contact?  Is the place clean?  Was the hamburger what I expected?  You get the drift.  Trust me I have been in some places that would not like to have my report published!  I am thinking I may need to take some one with me to verify my findings.  I think I will carry a clipboard and when I leave get a permission slip.  Thinking I may want to consult my attorney before I even embark on this, so give me some time and then check back in and see where I am.
And I would like your feedback on whether you would even read this or not.  So email me your thoughts.  loumercer3@aol.com  In the meantime...

 

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This is the novel I have for sale on Amazon. Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's enirety. Lou Mercer

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Installment #13 Greg and Kevin

 Greg smiled as he watched Kevin adjust the mirror, move the seat, flex his hands, and finally grip the steering wheel.  Kevin met his eyes and exclaimed, “What?”
 Greg laughed, “Is everything quite right for your stint behind the wheel?  Anything left to adjust? “  Secretly he was proud that Kevin wanted everything just right.  Made him feel secure.  And that was part of Kevin’s charm, always the same.  Always dependable.  And he would drive the speed limit and not go over.  He would be careful passing and never take chances.  Greg liked that in  partner.  Not that he had many partners, but he had his dreams and knew what he wanted.  Dependability.  Trustworthy.  Honest.  Loving.  What more could he ask for in a man?  They would board the plane at DIA and be home before dark.  Greg wondered briefly how the pub was doing and then flipped the lever on the side of the seat and reclined just a little.  Not going to sleep, just wanted to be in the semi vegetative state that he liked when riding in the passenger seat.  They would be at the airport in just a little over an hour.  Course that security thing at the airport was the worst.  It actually took less time to get home than it took to get through that mess.  But soon.  And then he realized that they would be landing in San Francisco and they would not have a car to get home.  He had taken Kevin to the airport and his mother had taken him.  Two cars were in the garage at home and they would be in a cab.  What a waste.  Then he laughed.  Kevin glanced at him and reached for his knee.  Giving it a squeeze he smiled.
 “Well, what is so funny on that side of the car?”
 “I just realized that we are going to have to take a cab from
the airport to the house and there are two cars setting idle in the garage.  We are just pretty wasteful.”
 “We could ride the shuttle into town and then catch the city bus if you would rather.”  The look of horror on Greg’s face made Kevin laugh loudly.  He knew how Greg abhorred public transportation.  He pulled into the center lane at the toll road entrance and pulled the ticket.  Handing the ticket to Greg he accelerated and blended into the west bound traffic.  In the distance he could see the big planes heading for the tiny dot on the horizon.  DIA was getting closer.  He felt the familiar knot in his stomach that he always got before a flight.  But he did not want Greg to know, so he smiled and squeezed the hand that lay on the seat near his leg.

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This is the novel I have for sale on Amazon. Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's enirety. Lou Mercer

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Installment #12 Jack Farley

 Jack unlocked the door and opened it into his condo.  Home.  It had been a very frustrating day.  Hot as hell.  He dropped the mail on the hall table and headed for the refrigerator and a cold beer.  He was only mildly surprised that there was no beer to be had.  Should have gone shopping.  Shoulda, coulda. Oh well, grab a quick shower and hit the corner bar.  He was ready for a little meaningless chatter with the boys anyway.  He stripped as he headed for the shower leaving a trail of clothes behind him on the floor.  Wasn’t really littering, just storing them there for later.   Yeah, the cleaning lady would pick them up tomorrow.  And she would call him a pig.  She would tell him the floor was not a storage area.  And he would ignore her.  She should know if he picked up after himself, she would not have a job.  That was the way the game went.
 Clad only in his “whitey tighties” as  he like to call his Fruit of the Loom briefs he suddenly remembered the mail.  He should be hearing from his oncologist about his PSA test last week.  Surely it was alright.  He felt alright.  It had been over a year since he had been diagnosed with Prostate Cancer and he was faithfully taken the chemo shot every 3 months.  That and the radiation seeds the doctor had planted in his scrotum were surely working.  He was sure if he ever got the notion that he could get a hard on.  At least he sure hoped so.  Just the other day he had felt life down there just thinking about Meg Parker in the shower.  Sex had never been a big motivator in his relationships.  There were things far more important that brought him back to a woman for a second or third date.
The first and most important thing was that she be pretty.  He preferred stunning and he had many of those.  A woman must be intelligent and able to carry on a conversation and not become flustered or rude.  She must be a lady at all times.  There was that one back in St. Louis who had been perfect or so it seemed.  He had entertained the idea of her as a wife and then she had done the unthinkable.  He and a friend had been out riding the trails on their dirt bikes and were close to Janice’s house.  Why not stop in for a cup of coffee.  Jack wanted to see what Roger thought of Janice.  So they popped in unannounced.
 Of course Janice was happy to see him and immediately made coffee.  Soon she appeared in the living room with a plate of his favorite cookies and two cups of steaming coffee on a tray which she sat on the table in front of the sofa.  Jack and Roger reached for their cups.  Jack noticed a bit of coffee on the tray, but what troubled him most was the lack of a saucer.  If he picked the cup up off the tray, the bottom would be dripping and it would drip on him.  He was not in the mood to be saturated with hot coffee just because Janice was inept at serving coffee properly.  He suddenly saw a future before him of a dirty house, cold lumpy gravy, snot nosed kids and probably a hairy dog laying somewhere near where he would want to eat. 
 He arose briskly and headed for the door leaving a completely confused Janice and Roger staring after him.  He had to leave because he suddenly felt like he was choking.  Smothering.  Dying a lonely old man would be better than compromising all the things he believed in and God help him a saucer and a doily under his cup was nothing short of civility.  Mother had not understood at all when he explained that, “No, I will not be marrying Janice.  If you are so concerned about her, you go talk to her.  I never talked marriage with her so I am clear on this one.”
 And mother had.  Janice’s mother was her best friend, after all.  There had been recriminations and even father had voiced an opinion that dating a girl exclusively for three years  usually gave people an idea that more would be coming.  So he had left home and taken an apartment in the Gas Light District.  After work he would go “clubbing” and weekends were spent antique hunting.  He found he had a flair for design and so pursued the free lance design business in his spare time.  He took up photography and developed his own film.  He loved taking pictures of people being people.
 And so he had spent his life.  Cleveland, Sacramento, back to St. Louis, Minneapolis, San Francisco, and now Denver.  He had worked in the Post Office, been a draftsman for a plumbing company, an engineer, day labor, dog trainer, and now he was a detective.  Analytical mind had gotten him here.  And over the years he had come to know that he was dyslectic and had retrained himself in the way he learned things.  He knew he could only concentrate on one thing at a time and that was why Meg had upset him so bad.  Ah, yes, his mind had come full circle and it was back to Meg.
 He found the envelope with the return address of  the oncologist.  He picked up the letter opener and slit the top.  With two fingers he removed the single sheet of paper.  It was short and to the point.  His PSA was elevated and he needed to come in for a consultation.  He dropped the letter in the basket and returned to the shower and his plans for the evening.



 

Installment #11 Fred

Fred
 Fred closed the door as Kevin and Greg turned and headed back down the mountain.  He looked at the bottle of Calamine lotion they had brought him.  That surely was nice of them!  Bet Meg had put them up to it though.  Didn’t matter.  It was still nice.  He had some creosote salve that was doing the job of drying the rash up, but he took the Calamine lotion anyway.  Wouldn’t hurt.
 He hated to hear that Meg had to take pills.  Guess she had it way worse than anyone else.  Bet it would be a cold old day before he went picking anything for a woman again.  He crossed to the shelves in the kitchen and gazed idly at his canned goods.  Nothing looked good.  He knew he should eat, but eating alone wasn’t much fun.  Sure he had done it for years, well all of his life mostly.  Food was what fueled his body so he had to eat.  But yesterday had been nice.
 Yep, there they sat at the table with silverware and drinks and he had felt really good.  He liked the boys and he really like Meg, and she was really nice.  Kind of reminded him of his own mother.  Momma.  Momma had short hair like Meg’s, but Meg’s was getting gray in it.  Momma would never be gray.  Momma would be forever young.
Fred walked to his bed and knelt beside it.  Reaching far back he brought out the green box and placed it on the bed.  Lifting the lid carefully he peered inside.  He slowly picked up the picture of the pretty woman with the smiling face and kissed it.  “Oh, momma, where has the time gone?  It was only yesterday that you were making me cookies and smiling when I came home from school.  Then you were gone!”  He laid the picture gently in the box and took out another picture.  This one was of a stooped, tired man with an air of hopelessness about him.  Father.
 Fred did not like to look at his father.  That made him sadder than when he looked at mother.  Mother made him happy, but father made him sad.  Why?  He had never wondered why before, but tonight he wondered.  He remembered the years that he and father had been alone with mother gone.  Some times he would find his father watching him very closely.  That always freaked him out.  But why?  It was his father and he could watch him if he wanted to.  But he never talked about mother.  Neither one of them.  It would have been normal for them to talk about her, but the subject just never came up.  Maybe he would think about that tonight.  Yes, tonight he would wonder about father and why they never talked about mother.  Surely they both missed her.  He made a mental note to think of father later then he opened the door and went out into the yard. 
 He pulled the vial out of his shirt pocket and knelt by the Antlion’s den.  This time he had a different plan.  He pulled out his long tweezers and held them near as he popped the cork with his thumb and dropped the ant into the funnel shaped depression.  The sand began to move as the antlion prepared to grab it’s prize, but Fred was faster and caught the antlion by the leg and held it gently as it struggled trying to get the ant, trying to escape whatever held it fast.  The ant scrambled frantically trying to climb out of the pit of death.  Maybe mother had tried to escape father that way.  Surely she had tried to escape.  He closed his eyes and he saw the struggle.  He saw mother’s eyes wide with terror.  He saw her backing away.  He heard her sobs as she flailed at father.  He heard her scream.  “No!  No!  For God’s sake stop!  Stop!”  He heard her dying breath and he saw her vacant eyes.  But he did not see father.
*************************To purchase Chapter One...Loose Ends*******************

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains