MY NOVEL - TRINITY WOODS - PART TWO

 MY NOVEL - TRINITY WOODS - PART TWO

ADDED ON JAN 17, 2023

NIGHTMARES. I was supposed to 'report' results from my CPAP machine to a series of people I did not like. 

Who were they?

Their miserable personalities stuck with me when I awoke.

YUCK !!!!

Drank strong black coffee after I awoke. Twas kept safe in the fridge. Drank some more and could not stand it !!!

Threw it out back door.

Sister Ellen is now making me some tea.

Thank you Ellie Belle!

Loose Earl Grey Wild Strawberry.

Yin Liu would make me tea when her beloved husband Otis Cox was alive.

Scott was here a moment ago and cleaned out my snorkel machine, as I call it. Today he does his toughest exercises, his CORE exercises.

Wants to go for walk but you cannot trust the weather report.

OVER AND OUT. 

Irv met Ralph at the nearest elevator. Irv saw the mirrors on the elevator and shook Ralph's hand, a young hand without all the dark spots gathered like polka dots on his hands and his head. 

 

Ralph held two tall paper cups of coffee. 

 

"Merry Christmas" written in italics, was an adored message, no matter what your religion.

 

As they entered Irv's deluxe suite, he motioned that Ralph sit at his glass dining room table.

 

"What's the fellow's name who invented Starbucks?" asked Irv.

 

"It's on the tip of my tongue," said Ralph. In fact he had listened to an audio book about Starbucks during his long drives.

 

"Jewish guy. He retired but then the brand started failing so he came back and started it again."

 

“Takes chutzpah," said Irv. "Name of Fisher? Nah.”

 

"Close, Monsieur Irv. Schultz. Howard Schultz."

"Of course," said Irv, tapping his bald head.

 

Irv pulled out a red folder. "Here's the deal," he said and sipped through the tiny hole in the Starbucks cup.

 

Ralph seemed to stare him down.

 

“Someone I met in a former life," said Irv. "My stocks ain't doing too bad now, now that the pandemic is over.”

 

....

 

Meantime, far from their Cleveland assisted living facility lived Irv's niece Bethany. A beautiful girl she was with long honey-blonde tresses, who left a terrible marriage after five years, and had reconnected with - you guessed it - an old boyfriend she had dated in high school.

 

Bethany was living temporarily with her mother, who had been hinting for four years that her daughter leave Dominick, her lazy husband, who was late for work every day and hadn't an ounce of ambition.

 

The new man - one David Rivers - already had a master's degree in nursing - and earned seventy-five thousand dollars a year, plus tips from grateful families.

 

“One thing I'll say for you, Sweetie," said Bethany's mother, "his future is as bright as the noonday sun.”

 

Cryptic messages would appear on social media. 

 

Dominick could not believe what he was reading. The light of his life dating someone else? 

 

At night he would sneak out of his mother's house and walk by Bethany's house and stare. 

 

“How dare you? You little bitch! After I took such good care of you and gave you every ounce of love I had!”

 

His insides shook as if they were on fire. 

 

Fire, he thought. For sure I could set the house on fire, just a little one, and teach them a lesson. 

 

Had a man ever been so miserable? 

 

Next day Dominick went to Chuck's Hardware. With determination, he entered and went to the section that sold supplies for lawn mowers. Kegs of kerosene. He stared at them. He had barely helped his parents mow their lawn and must learn how if he were to get on with his plan. 

 

Some people referred to Dominick as "shiftless as a drifter." 

 

What was the matter with him?

 

Something, for sure.

 

He had promised to get counseling. 

 

As he exited the hardware store, he jogged over to The Wilson Center for Counseling.

 

Of course he could change. He peeked into the double doors, then opened one heavy door, and entered the center.

 

“Dominick!" said the receptionist. "Haven't seen you in nearly six months! May I help you?”

 

Tears slipped from his cheeks. "I gotta be seen," he said. "Now!" his voice loud and angry.

 

“Right fucking now!”

....

I tried to rent Janet Malcolm's STILL PICTURES from my library, but it wouldn't work.

The late Ms Malcom was Jewish and was one of the last to escape from Germany.

Did you see her at the Golden Globe Awards?

C'est moi, RZD !!!

THE CONVERSATION by Henri Matisse, 1930.

DO NOT FORGET SILVIO'S SANDWICH SHOP IN HATBORO PA.

JESSICA MOUNT of Fox Rehab was here at 9:45 am and gave me a great workout on my bad leg, upon which I had fallen. 

Do I want a cane?