Sydney Joyce and her Aunt Rose sat in worried silence.
"Here it is again," Syd wailed. Her face was white and her eyes wide.
"Sweetie, what does it feel like, is it a pain?"
"It doesn't hurt," Syd replied tearfully. "It kind of feels like a butterfly in there."
"Oh my dear," Aunt Rose said sitting back on her heels and hugging her, "that's the baby moving and telling you its okay."
From then on the flutters became stronger and grew into out-right kicking. Aunt Rose's
neighbor, Mrs. Larsen knew about these things and came over regularly and felt her stomach and clucked along with her aunt.
The fall turned into winter. Now it was December and the ladies were sittng sipping tea and stitching baby kimonos. Syd's back ached and she felt restless. She stood up to stretch and a sudden pain caused her to frown. She took several steps and then looked down in horror as a stain began wetting her dress and stockings.
"Oh, look what I've done," she wailed as a puddle began to darken the flowered living room carpet.
"Sweetie, that's all right." Aunt Rose said softly, trying to control her sudden alarm. She knew it was time!
"Let's go into your room and you can lie down." And Rose helped her undress saying, "now just rest and I'll go get Mrs. Larsen. I'll be gone only five minutes."
"I'm so scared," Syd cried clutching her stomach again as a new pain set in. Her face was stark white, her eyes terror strickened.
The two older ladies boiled water and found clean old sheets. They wiped Syd's tears and held her hand way into the night as the young girl struggled to bring a new life into the world. Finally, after hours of pain and exhaustion, her daughter was born amid cries of joy and relief.
It was December 12, 1932.
"I'll name her Merry Delores because its soon Christmas," Syd replied as she held the tiny bundle in her arms and looked her over with pride and wonder. After reassuring herself that the baby was perfect, she fell sound asleep.
That first year flew by and Little Merry D grew from a tiny infant into a chubby inquisitive little Miss and her great aunt and her mother doted on her every whim.
Aunt Rose loved having a family and their business flourished as they worked long days and well into the nights sewing dresses and gown for the elite of Chicago. As Merry D grew, her pure sweet voice joined Syd's as they sang together, learning the current songs they heard coming over the radio. Their soprano voices were beautiful together. One Sunday as they were sitting down having tea after church, Merry D piped up in her small voice.
"Mama, is my daddy in heaven?"
Sydney jumped up from the table and exclaimed, "Oh no, your daddy went away a long time ago"
Monday, September 2, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Blinded (4)
"I didn't mean to sleep so long auntie, but I can help you with supper," Sydney offered running into the kitchen at her aunt's house in the large city.
"Oh my, that's not necessary. It's ready now so sit down and let's eat. It's only scrambled eggs and fresh bread."
After the two women had eaten and washed and dried the dishes, Aunt Rose said kindly, "Lets go and visit now. Tell me about yourself, Sydney."
Rose carried the kerosene burning lamp into the living room amd motioned Sydney to a soft chair. Rose sat down and tucked her feet under, and her hair which she wore swept up in a loose knot tumbleded crookedly. Tendrils brushed her face. Her elegant red satin robe glowed in the shaded lamp light, as she settled back and smiled at her young neice.
"Now don't worry about anything sweetie, you safe here with me. Your ma said you're expecting." Her aunt's face softened now as she continued, "I'll help you, but, what about the baby's father? Didn't he want to get married?"
Sydney sat huddled in the corner of the chair. Her faded dress wrinkled and tight over the small bulge at her waistline. She started to cry and said softly, "I'm so sorry to burden you Aunt Rose, but I wrote to him many times, but he didn't come over. I guess he didn't care." She said tearfully, feeling ashamed and bewildered. "Dad went to find him, but he had left. His family didn't know where though." Wiping her eyes on her sleeve she said bravely, "I want to keep my baby, and raise it somehow."
Rose got up and came over and put an arm around Syd's shoulder. "Well Sydney, I've been thinking and I have a plan. You can live with me and help me in my shop. I sew for people and my business is growing."
She took a lace hankie and reached over and wiped Syd's eyes and then her own. "I've never married and I get lonely at times. We can work this out."
Sydney sat up straight and pushed her damp hair out of her eyes and smiled for the first time in months. Now the sixteen year old finally saw a way.
The weeks and months passed swiftly, and Syd was busier than ever in her life. She had learned to sew from her mother and her stiches were fine and accurate and her fingers flew. She had grown used to the lights, smells and noise of the city by now, and thrilled to the bigness of everything.
Aunt Rose was like a mother hen to her, affectionately clucking over her to eat more and rest. Her cheeks grew rosy and the wonder of the baby growing in her stomach made her eyes shine. And the hurt and loneliness was lessening.
One day as they were sitting gathering stitches on a ball-gown, Sydney sat up suddenly with a start. Her hands flew to her stomach and her work rolled to the floor.
Jumping out of her chair, Aunt Rose exclaimed in alarm, "Syd, what is it?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think the baby is coming!" She wailed.
"Oh no, it's too soon! Just sit quietly and we'll see," Aunt Rose whispered.
"Oh my, that's not necessary. It's ready now so sit down and let's eat. It's only scrambled eggs and fresh bread."
After the two women had eaten and washed and dried the dishes, Aunt Rose said kindly, "Lets go and visit now. Tell me about yourself, Sydney."
Rose carried the kerosene burning lamp into the living room amd motioned Sydney to a soft chair. Rose sat down and tucked her feet under, and her hair which she wore swept up in a loose knot tumbleded crookedly. Tendrils brushed her face. Her elegant red satin robe glowed in the shaded lamp light, as she settled back and smiled at her young neice.
"Now don't worry about anything sweetie, you safe here with me. Your ma said you're expecting." Her aunt's face softened now as she continued, "I'll help you, but, what about the baby's father? Didn't he want to get married?"
Sydney sat huddled in the corner of the chair. Her faded dress wrinkled and tight over the small bulge at her waistline. She started to cry and said softly, "I'm so sorry to burden you Aunt Rose, but I wrote to him many times, but he didn't come over. I guess he didn't care." She said tearfully, feeling ashamed and bewildered. "Dad went to find him, but he had left. His family didn't know where though." Wiping her eyes on her sleeve she said bravely, "I want to keep my baby, and raise it somehow."
Rose got up and came over and put an arm around Syd's shoulder. "Well Sydney, I've been thinking and I have a plan. You can live with me and help me in my shop. I sew for people and my business is growing."
She took a lace hankie and reached over and wiped Syd's eyes and then her own. "I've never married and I get lonely at times. We can work this out."
Sydney sat up straight and pushed her damp hair out of her eyes and smiled for the first time in months. Now the sixteen year old finally saw a way.
The weeks and months passed swiftly, and Syd was busier than ever in her life. She had learned to sew from her mother and her stiches were fine and accurate and her fingers flew. She had grown used to the lights, smells and noise of the city by now, and thrilled to the bigness of everything.
Aunt Rose was like a mother hen to her, affectionately clucking over her to eat more and rest. Her cheeks grew rosy and the wonder of the baby growing in her stomach made her eyes shine. And the hurt and loneliness was lessening.
One day as they were sitting gathering stitches on a ball-gown, Sydney sat up suddenly with a start. Her hands flew to her stomach and her work rolled to the floor.
Jumping out of her chair, Aunt Rose exclaimed in alarm, "Syd, what is it?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think the baby is coming!" She wailed.
"Oh no, it's too soon! Just sit quietly and we'll see," Aunt Rose whispered.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Home Again (3)
Sydney Joyce greatfully sank down on the quilt covered bed and sighed with relief, however the loud noise from the city still vibrated in her ears. Within minutes her aunt was back with steaming cups of tea.
"Here dear," she said bustling around, "I thought some toast would be best for your stomach for now."
"Thank you Aunt rose, I havent felt good, but I'm so hungry," she said faintly. Her hand trembled as she reached for the food.
"How is your family? Your ma didn't say too much about other things when she wrote."
"Everyone is okay. The fields don't look too good pa says, but ma's garden is nice. It's dry though so we have to carry water alot to it." The tea had begaun to soothe her stomach and the thick toast tasted heavenly as Syd muched hungrily.
"You take a nap now and we'll visit more when you get up," Aunt Rose said and tucked an afghan around her legs.
Sydney lay back on the fluffy pillows, hundreds of miles away from her home and family. She wondered if she would ever see them again, already missing her piano, she wondered too, if she would ever be able to have another and be able to sing her songs again.
She slept soundly for several hours and awoke with a start at a loud clanging noise right outside the window. She jumped up and looked around frantically. It was dark now and as she ran to the window and looked out, her eyes widened in wonder as she saw a trolly going by full of people. Lights shone from everywhere.
That's right, I'm in Chicago at Aunt Rose's house, she remembered as she found her shoes. Wood burning in the stove and the aroma of baking bread drew her down the hall of the house and into the warm cheery kitchen.
"Why, there you are, are you feeling better now after your rest?" Aunt Rose turned from the stove with a smile on her face.
"I didn't mean to sleep so long auntie,I can help with supper."
"Here dear," she said bustling around, "I thought some toast would be best for your stomach for now."
"Thank you Aunt rose, I havent felt good, but I'm so hungry," she said faintly. Her hand trembled as she reached for the food.
"How is your family? Your ma didn't say too much about other things when she wrote."
"Everyone is okay. The fields don't look too good pa says, but ma's garden is nice. It's dry though so we have to carry water alot to it." The tea had begaun to soothe her stomach and the thick toast tasted heavenly as Syd muched hungrily.
"You take a nap now and we'll visit more when you get up," Aunt Rose said and tucked an afghan around her legs.
Sydney lay back on the fluffy pillows, hundreds of miles away from her home and family. She wondered if she would ever see them again, already missing her piano, she wondered too, if she would ever be able to have another and be able to sing her songs again.
She slept soundly for several hours and awoke with a start at a loud clanging noise right outside the window. She jumped up and looked around frantically. It was dark now and as she ran to the window and looked out, her eyes widened in wonder as she saw a trolly going by full of people. Lights shone from everywhere.
That's right, I'm in Chicago at Aunt Rose's house, she remembered as she found her shoes. Wood burning in the stove and the aroma of baking bread drew her down the hall of the house and into the warm cheery kitchen.
"Why, there you are, are you feeling better now after your rest?" Aunt Rose turned from the stove with a smile on her face.
"I didn't mean to sleep so long auntie,I can help with supper."
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Home Again (2)
Sidney Joyce huddled in her seat and tried to remember his face, for now he seemed like a stranger to her. It was late August and it had been months since they'd been together that last time. When he'd said he loved her. When they had gone all the way.
She remembered her mother's heartbreak when she'd told her that she was pregnant. Also her dad's anger when he'd gone to look for boy. When his parents had said, 'Why he's gone. Just up and left!" And then her own embarrassment when the sheriff was called in.
But he must have gotten my letter, she thought again as a sob tore at her throat. When I told him I had missed my monthly and I thought we should get married!
Sydney remembered walking the two miles every day to the mail-box and anxiously waiting for a letter, but there had been nothing. Now she was five months pregnant and going far away to live with an aunt.
Soon the tall buildings of the big city began to take shape in the far distance, and finally the fume spitting train came to a crashing halt in a big building. Then everyone stood up and began inching their way out, clutching suitcases and bags. Sydney nervously smoothed her hair and applied some Tangee lipstick, and took a deep shaking breath. Lord, she'd never been so scared in her life!
What if Aunt Rose isn't here to meet me, what will I do? She worried.
Damp, hot air hit her face as the departing crowd pushed her along. She stepped down hesitatingly into the depot, and looked around in panic.
Then suddenly a woman with shining brown hair touched with gray, and snapping blue eyes, stepped out of the crowd of waiting people and enveloped her in her arms.
"Sydney Joyce, here I am. I am your Aunt Rose," the woman said holding her away and looking her over. "Why you're as big as a minute and pale as snow. But I would have known you right off, you look just like your mother. I just got her letter yesterday."
Sydney felt the same comforting feelings coming from this woman, whom she'd never even seen before, as she felt from her own mother. They were almost identical in looks, only Rose was younger and wore stylish clothes. Sydney was embarrassed as she stood under her aunt's gaze, as her own dress was wrinkled, and she was hot and tired.
"Syndey Joyce, you poor dear, you need some food and rest, but we'll be home in a few minutes now."
Fumes from the train and the closeness of the people made Sydney's stomach tighten up, and she looked around franticly for somewhere to run to, to throw up. But fortunately, just in the nick of time they stepped ouside into the fresh air and the nausea passed. They began to walk.
After several blocks, they were at the door of a small pink house with white shutters. A white picket fence ran around the small yard. Flowers bloomed in window boxes. It was the prettiest house Sydney had ever seen. Aunt Rose took her hand and led her in.
"Welcome to my home Sydney, and I have a spare bedroom just for you."
She remembered her mother's heartbreak when she'd told her that she was pregnant. Also her dad's anger when he'd gone to look for boy. When his parents had said, 'Why he's gone. Just up and left!" And then her own embarrassment when the sheriff was called in.
But he must have gotten my letter, she thought again as a sob tore at her throat. When I told him I had missed my monthly and I thought we should get married!
Sydney remembered walking the two miles every day to the mail-box and anxiously waiting for a letter, but there had been nothing. Now she was five months pregnant and going far away to live with an aunt.
Soon the tall buildings of the big city began to take shape in the far distance, and finally the fume spitting train came to a crashing halt in a big building. Then everyone stood up and began inching their way out, clutching suitcases and bags. Sydney nervously smoothed her hair and applied some Tangee lipstick, and took a deep shaking breath. Lord, she'd never been so scared in her life!
What if Aunt Rose isn't here to meet me, what will I do? She worried.
Damp, hot air hit her face as the departing crowd pushed her along. She stepped down hesitatingly into the depot, and looked around in panic.
Then suddenly a woman with shining brown hair touched with gray, and snapping blue eyes, stepped out of the crowd of waiting people and enveloped her in her arms.
"Sydney Joyce, here I am. I am your Aunt Rose," the woman said holding her away and looking her over. "Why you're as big as a minute and pale as snow. But I would have known you right off, you look just like your mother. I just got her letter yesterday."
Sydney felt the same comforting feelings coming from this woman, whom she'd never even seen before, as she felt from her own mother. They were almost identical in looks, only Rose was younger and wore stylish clothes. Sydney was embarrassed as she stood under her aunt's gaze, as her own dress was wrinkled, and she was hot and tired.
"Syndey Joyce, you poor dear, you need some food and rest, but we'll be home in a few minutes now."
Fumes from the train and the closeness of the people made Sydney's stomach tighten up, and she looked around franticly for somewhere to run to, to throw up. But fortunately, just in the nick of time they stepped ouside into the fresh air and the nausea passed. They began to walk.
After several blocks, they were at the door of a small pink house with white shutters. A white picket fence ran around the small yard. Flowers bloomed in window boxes. It was the prettiest house Sydney had ever seen. Aunt Rose took her hand and led her in.
"Welcome to my home Sydney, and I have a spare bedroom just for you."
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Home Again (Circa 1994)
After her band had finished their number Syd stepped up to the microphone.
"Thank you for coming tonight folks." Her eyes swept the crowd. "It's wonderful to be back again after so many years. Now I'd like to introduce Merry D, my daughter. She's the real star of the show."
The young girl came running out on to the stage, clutching her big guitar. Dressed in white slacks and jacket, western hat and boots, identical to her mother's outfit. She was a miniture Sidney Joyce: Same long auburn hair, sparkling blue eyes and a big ShirleyTemple smile.
The crowd clapped and cheered as she began to sing. Syd and her band stepped back and let her have the stage, as everyone watched and fell in love with the twelve year old as she sang her heart out. She was into her second song now and Syd accompanied her softly on her accordian as she sang, "South of the Border," in her clear soprano voice. Syd's eyes moved proudly between the stage and the crowd, but she still wondered had she made a mistake in coming back? She wasn't as sure now.
She smiled as old acquainatances danced by, enjoying the Saturday night barn dance. It was 1944 and the war was on. Food, gas and nylons were rationed, and Walter Winchell's radio news sent chills out to anyone old enough to understand the world's situation.
The converted hayloft in Syd's old community was crowded with the local people, young and old. Some of them were there to relax and dance, and some out of curiosity to see the big band from Chicago and the girl who had left years ago.
Syd stepped up to the mike again and announced the next song as the dancers waited espectantly on the floor.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is my favorite. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do." And mother and daughter began to sing. Their voices blending perfectly. Just then in the middle of the song, Syd stopped and stood stock still as her eyes were magnetically drawn to a lone man standing away from the crowd. He was dressed in gray. A felt hat sat rakisly almost covering one eye and a handsome suit covered his muscled frame. He was intently watching her and Merry D.
My God, it was him! Syd began to shake inside and the words to the song stuck in her throat. Perspiration soaked her white jacket and her fingers felt as if they belonged to someone else's hand as they miraculously moved. She stood on the stage, finally face to face with the man after so many years, but would he remember?
******
Sydney Joyce counted her money again and tucked the ten dollars back safely in her purse. The year was 1932 and she was sixteen years old and on her way to Chicago. As she sat on the hard seat on the train the nausea came again and she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Alone and deeply hurt, the rumbling of the moving car lulled her momentarily and she smoothed her faded dress down over her stomach protectively, as the pain of rejection hurt again like a sudden blow.
"Thank you for coming tonight folks." Her eyes swept the crowd. "It's wonderful to be back again after so many years. Now I'd like to introduce Merry D, my daughter. She's the real star of the show."
The young girl came running out on to the stage, clutching her big guitar. Dressed in white slacks and jacket, western hat and boots, identical to her mother's outfit. She was a miniture Sidney Joyce: Same long auburn hair, sparkling blue eyes and a big ShirleyTemple smile.
The crowd clapped and cheered as she began to sing. Syd and her band stepped back and let her have the stage, as everyone watched and fell in love with the twelve year old as she sang her heart out. She was into her second song now and Syd accompanied her softly on her accordian as she sang, "South of the Border," in her clear soprano voice. Syd's eyes moved proudly between the stage and the crowd, but she still wondered had she made a mistake in coming back? She wasn't as sure now.
She smiled as old acquainatances danced by, enjoying the Saturday night barn dance. It was 1944 and the war was on. Food, gas and nylons were rationed, and Walter Winchell's radio news sent chills out to anyone old enough to understand the world's situation.
The converted hayloft in Syd's old community was crowded with the local people, young and old. Some of them were there to relax and dance, and some out of curiosity to see the big band from Chicago and the girl who had left years ago.
Syd stepped up to the mike again and announced the next song as the dancers waited espectantly on the floor.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is my favorite. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do." And mother and daughter began to sing. Their voices blending perfectly. Just then in the middle of the song, Syd stopped and stood stock still as her eyes were magnetically drawn to a lone man standing away from the crowd. He was dressed in gray. A felt hat sat rakisly almost covering one eye and a handsome suit covered his muscled frame. He was intently watching her and Merry D.
My God, it was him! Syd began to shake inside and the words to the song stuck in her throat. Perspiration soaked her white jacket and her fingers felt as if they belonged to someone else's hand as they miraculously moved. She stood on the stage, finally face to face with the man after so many years, but would he remember?
******
Sydney Joyce counted her money again and tucked the ten dollars back safely in her purse. The year was 1932 and she was sixteen years old and on her way to Chicago. As she sat on the hard seat on the train the nausea came again and she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Alone and deeply hurt, the rumbling of the moving car lulled her momentarily and she smoothed her faded dress down over her stomach protectively, as the pain of rejection hurt again like a sudden blow.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Blinded (7)
Reno crouched on the ground at Julia's side, his eyes wild. Sweat dripped off him and onto her face as he ripped her clothes.
"Now you're mine. Now you'll be nice to me." His breath was hot and stale with liquor as he lashed out at her. He was going to rape her now! She was helpless.
But instead, he raised his arm and she glimpsed a knife pointed at her. She braced herself for the end, for the cold steel to pierce her skin, cut her flesh. Seconds went by, then more, but a final blow didn't come, and time seemed to stand still.
She opened her eyes to see a body fly through the air, knock Reno down. The knife went sailing into the tangle of weeds as the men rolled on the ground, the police arrived and handcuffed Reno. Then Julia fainted.
"It was Reno," she managed to say out of bruised lips. She was still lying on the sand.
Johnny Agar helped her to sit up. Then carefully pressed a hankerchief to her battered face as he talked.
"I know who it was Julia, I've had a eye on him lately. I found out he escaped from prison last month and stole that limousine. The police said he had been convicted of stalking and attempted murder."
Julia shuttered. "He always wanted me to go out with him."
"Be thankful you never did, as I'm sure he had more than that in mind for you then."
"You know Johnny, I sensed something about him. But, how did you find me now?"
Johhny smiled at her. "I came over to get you to go walking and a neighbor said you'd left and was headed down here." As he talked he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. "I could see you in the distance, then I saw someone come out of nowhere and chase you, then attack you. Well, thank God I had my cell with me and I called 911, then ran like hell."
Julia began to cry and Johnny leaned down. "Julia," he murmured softly, "the nighnare is over, but it could be just beginning for us." She looked up into those twinkling eyes.
The sun came out then exploding over the brilliant tropical greenery and the white tips of the crashing waves were bright as diamonds as he gathered her protectively in his arms.
Safe at last, Julia smiled.
***
Dear Friends; I often take characters from short stories I've written and put them in my books.
You probably recognized John Agar from Nightmares and Dreams. He was the FBI agent, posing as a drug buyer, that met Mario out on the ocean, that Mario shot and pushed overboard. The murder scene that Lindy Lewis witnessed.
Thanks, let me know if you think I should keep on, please.
"Now you're mine. Now you'll be nice to me." His breath was hot and stale with liquor as he lashed out at her. He was going to rape her now! She was helpless.
But instead, he raised his arm and she glimpsed a knife pointed at her. She braced herself for the end, for the cold steel to pierce her skin, cut her flesh. Seconds went by, then more, but a final blow didn't come, and time seemed to stand still.
She opened her eyes to see a body fly through the air, knock Reno down. The knife went sailing into the tangle of weeds as the men rolled on the ground, the police arrived and handcuffed Reno. Then Julia fainted.
"It was Reno," she managed to say out of bruised lips. She was still lying on the sand.
Johnny Agar helped her to sit up. Then carefully pressed a hankerchief to her battered face as he talked.
"I know who it was Julia, I've had a eye on him lately. I found out he escaped from prison last month and stole that limousine. The police said he had been convicted of stalking and attempted murder."
Julia shuttered. "He always wanted me to go out with him."
"Be thankful you never did, as I'm sure he had more than that in mind for you then."
"You know Johnny, I sensed something about him. But, how did you find me now?"
Johhny smiled at her. "I came over to get you to go walking and a neighbor said you'd left and was headed down here." As he talked he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. "I could see you in the distance, then I saw someone come out of nowhere and chase you, then attack you. Well, thank God I had my cell with me and I called 911, then ran like hell."
Julia began to cry and Johnny leaned down. "Julia," he murmured softly, "the nighnare is over, but it could be just beginning for us." She looked up into those twinkling eyes.
The sun came out then exploding over the brilliant tropical greenery and the white tips of the crashing waves were bright as diamonds as he gathered her protectively in his arms.
Safe at last, Julia smiled.
***
Dear Friends; I often take characters from short stories I've written and put them in my books.
You probably recognized John Agar from Nightmares and Dreams. He was the FBI agent, posing as a drug buyer, that met Mario out on the ocean, that Mario shot and pushed overboard. The murder scene that Lindy Lewis witnessed.
Thanks, let me know if you think I should keep on, please.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Blinded (6)
Julia's days were full. Johnny took her to the elegant places as he had promised. They ate oysters on the wharf. Drank margueritas on a cruise and took early morning walks together.
She met new people on the beach, shopped and went sightseeing. Reno was there with the limo, whenever she needed transportation, but she still kept refusing his advances.
It had began to rain the evening before, and stormed during the night and the radio promised clearing skies by noon and the weather man was right. Jullia rushed to get outside and to the beach. She grabbed her plaid base-ball cap and keys and ran down the condo stairs and out to the white sand where the shells crackled under her feet. Where the sea-gulls busily searched the sand for the tasty morsels the ocean had brought to their table again. She walked, refreshed and energized, by the beauty of her surroundings. She was alone on the beach, but soon the cooped up vacationers would burst out to join her.
The sun broke through and gentle breezes chased the storm clouds away and she stopped to watch a group of sandpipers, fascinated as they moved together, as the waves came billowing over the beach, back and forth, like a marching band doing formations. She smiled.
She walked on until she came to a familiar landmark, which was an old abandoned row boat and turned around to go back. She hadn't noticed a lone man standing in the dunes, until he started walking toward her. As he got closer she saw he had a white cap pulled low over his eyes and when he was about fifty yars away she realized something about him looked threatening. She kept walking and suddenly saw they were the only ones out on the beach. As they met each other, she avoided making eye-contact with him, but the hair on the back of her head prickled and a chill went down her back.
A moment later, Julia turned around for a quick peek at him again and just then he turned too, and started running toward her. She yelled something and her heart started to pound as she ran. But within minutes, he caught up and had her in a viselike hold and her cap and keys fell to the ground. She struggled and fought against him, but he had one hand over her mouth, and the other twisting her arms in back of her. She was trapped and in desparate trouble. She fought as he forced her to walk ahead of him into the tangle of weeds and bushes in the dunes. Then his cap fell off and she recognized the man. It was Reno, the limo driver! Reaching a clearing, he pushed her down on the ground, and in that instant she screamed.
He hit her then and blood ran from her nose and mouth. She cried out as everything blurred. Then he had a rope in his hand and bound her arms and legs and she lay there on the wet sand, her body twisted and tied. The air heavy with humidity.
"Reno, why?" she managed to cry out of swollen lips.
"You bitch! You think you're too good for me, how do you feel now?" And he hit her again, this time in her chest and she writhed in pain.
She met new people on the beach, shopped and went sightseeing. Reno was there with the limo, whenever she needed transportation, but she still kept refusing his advances.
It had began to rain the evening before, and stormed during the night and the radio promised clearing skies by noon and the weather man was right. Jullia rushed to get outside and to the beach. She grabbed her plaid base-ball cap and keys and ran down the condo stairs and out to the white sand where the shells crackled under her feet. Where the sea-gulls busily searched the sand for the tasty morsels the ocean had brought to their table again. She walked, refreshed and energized, by the beauty of her surroundings. She was alone on the beach, but soon the cooped up vacationers would burst out to join her.
The sun broke through and gentle breezes chased the storm clouds away and she stopped to watch a group of sandpipers, fascinated as they moved together, as the waves came billowing over the beach, back and forth, like a marching band doing formations. She smiled.
She walked on until she came to a familiar landmark, which was an old abandoned row boat and turned around to go back. She hadn't noticed a lone man standing in the dunes, until he started walking toward her. As he got closer she saw he had a white cap pulled low over his eyes and when he was about fifty yars away she realized something about him looked threatening. She kept walking and suddenly saw they were the only ones out on the beach. As they met each other, she avoided making eye-contact with him, but the hair on the back of her head prickled and a chill went down her back.
A moment later, Julia turned around for a quick peek at him again and just then he turned too, and started running toward her. She yelled something and her heart started to pound as she ran. But within minutes, he caught up and had her in a viselike hold and her cap and keys fell to the ground. She struggled and fought against him, but he had one hand over her mouth, and the other twisting her arms in back of her. She was trapped and in desparate trouble. She fought as he forced her to walk ahead of him into the tangle of weeds and bushes in the dunes. Then his cap fell off and she recognized the man. It was Reno, the limo driver! Reaching a clearing, he pushed her down on the ground, and in that instant she screamed.
He hit her then and blood ran from her nose and mouth. She cried out as everything blurred. Then he had a rope in his hand and bound her arms and legs and she lay there on the wet sand, her body twisted and tied. The air heavy with humidity.
"Reno, why?" she managed to cry out of swollen lips.
"You bitch! You think you're too good for me, how do you feel now?" And he hit her again, this time in her chest and she writhed in pain.
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