Fun for Halloween week

Starting on 26th October, I would like to open my blog up to you the readers.  If you have a poem or short story you wouldn’t mind sharing on the digital highways (it doesn’t matter whether you write full-time or just dabble), I would like to hear from you. I will feature five of them that week to add a little fun and something new to the blog.

To submit your hard work just email them to me at catesbooknuthut@gmail.com and I will get my Husband to read them through.  He will then pick the ones he enjoyed the most to feature on the site that week.

I think this will be fun, and also give an opportunity to those who may be a bit hesitant to reveal their talents a chance to shine.

I look forward to reading your submissions.

A Very Special Christmas ~Loretta Livingstone

The last of our three short Christmas stories comes from the Author of Where Angels Tread, a debut novella I reviewed here in May 2014.

A Very Special Christmas
by Loretta Livingstone

Anisha wept with frustration, as she tried to wrench the ring off her finger. Jayesh watched, eyes wide with disbelief.
“But why?”
“Because you disrespect me. You imagine just because I am wearing your ring, you can sleep with me? You think you own me? You knew I wouldn’t do this. You disrespect me, and you disrespect my parents.”
Jayesh glared. “Think you’re so special, do you? Well, you’re nothing! And the ring is nothing. Keep it! I’ll find a girl who loves me properly!”
“I don’t want your ring!” She tore at it with her teeth and finally managed to drag it over her knuckle. The skin beneath had turned green.
“You’re right! It was nothing! Cheap! And so are you. But I’m not. I will be respected.” She threw the ring across the room so hard that it cracked the mirror behind his head.
Turning on her heel, she slammed out of the front door leaving Jayesh seething. All the money he’d spent wooing her, and she wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. Too precious. Proper little princess. Well, that was it! The last time he’d waste his cash on a girl from her type of background.
Anisha stormed down the road, fury battling with humiliation. Did Jayesh truly think just because he had put his ring – his cheap ring – on her finger, she’d be prepared to share his bed, when he knew, he knew she wasn’t that type of girl? Anisha was a modern girl; she believed in women having careers, but she had a deep faith, and she wasn’t going to compromise it – especially to someone who held her so cheap.
“Cheap!” She ground the word out between her teeth! He couldn’t even buy her a decent ring. Not an expensive one, but this – this was a joke. She rubbed at the green stain.
“Cheer up, darlin’. It might never happen.” The stallholder she was passing gave her a wink.
“Stupid man! You are all stupid!”
“Oi. Miss High-and-Mighty. Who yanked your chain?”
She gave him a last searing glare as she swept past, head held high. He grinned. “Proper little spitfire, ain’t yer.”
Reaching the sanctuary of her shabby flat, she slammed the door behind her and threw herself onto the bed. Reaction set in, and her face crumpled. How she missed her mother. “Oh, Ama! Ama! I wish you were here,” she wailed. She couldn’t call. They couldn’t afford it. Anisha was over here to study and bring honour to the family. She hadn’t even told them about Jayesh. She’d been waiting to introduce the subject once she was engaged. They would be thrilled – she had hoped. After all, he was a medical student. And her parents weren’t old-fashioned. He was of the same faith – or so he had said. Obviously, it didn’t mean much to him. She gave her finger one more despairing rub – it was starting to itch now – and hid her face in her pillow, shaking with sobs. So near Christmas. She had been looking forward to sharing it with Jayesh’s family. He was going to tell his mother, he’d said. But who knew. Maybe she was his dirty little secret. At this, she wept even harder. How could she tell Ama and Daddy? She was such a stupid fool.
University had broken up for the Christmas holidays. Anisha had been so besotted with Jayesh, she hadn’t made any friends yet. He had spotted her standing shyly near the entrance three days after she had arrived and taken her under his wing. Flattered and grateful, she had been only too happy to spend all her spare time with him, sharing her dreams, her ambitions. She knew the other students by sight, smiling shyly at them as she attended lectures, but Jayesh was always at her shoulder as soon as they were over. Come to that, why had he always been hanging around outside her lectures? Realisation was finally sinking in for Anisha. Jayesh was a fraud. Maybe he wasn’t even studying, let alone doing medicine.
She shivered and put the kettle on. It was freezing. She couldn’t turn the heating up, not enough money. A hot water bottle would have to do. Thank goodness Jen had told her about them; they were wonderful. She filled two and snuggled under the duvet with them. She was so lonely. Was Jen busy, she wondered? Did she dare go down the hall and knock on her door? Wrapping the duvet round her, hot water bottles tucked under each arm, she left her flat and shuffled down the corridor. Tapping on the door, she waited nervously. A passing girl stopped. “You wanting Jen? She’s away for the holidays, hun. Back in the New Year.”
Well, that was that then; she would be alone over Christmas. She shuffled back to her tiny apartment, recklessly put some more coins in the meter and turned on the TV, wiping the tears from her eyes with a determined small hand. She would shut Jayesh from her mind. He didn’t exist.
Next day, still heartsore, she went to the market to see if she could find something nice to cook – something to remind her of home. The Christmas lights twinkled. Families thronged the stalls. Anisha watched the cheerful scene dismally. If only, oh if only her parents had suggested she study at Karunya University. Or Madras. Anywhere but England. At least she would have been warm, and she could have called them. She would have Skyped her family, but they had such an old computer; it didn’t work very well. She would have to content herself with writing to them. They would be putting their own decorations up, and the crib would be up at the large Catholic Church they went to. She paused. She would do that. She would go to church. Then, she would feel nearer to them. But first, she headed to a stall which sold all the spices she needed. Fingering bright red chillies and knobbly ginger, she breathed in the fragrance of the heady spices which filled the air. It wasn’t quite the same as home. The smells were weaker; the air was colder, and they didn’t make her mouth water like they did at home, but they would do. Then she went to the large old Parish Church.
Anisha slipped in between the large studded oak doors. Just think. This had been here for hundreds of years. She put out her hand and touched the smooth walls, imagining all the generations of people who had been here before her. The church was hushed; the fragrance of incense lingering, the nativity scene laid out at the front. She moved forward, covering her head respectfully, and knelt in one of the pews, looking up at the large cross which dominated the front of the Church.
The holy stillness soothed her like balm. She didn’t know how long she sat there lost in contemplation. Time seemed to have stood still. But it was cold here too. Oh! This country! Would she ever feel warm again? She shivered and got to her feet, suddenly aware of a pair of cheerful green eyes upon her. She blushed and dipped her head, but curiosity got the better of her, and she peeked up again shyly. A man, she couldn’t guess his age, with dull blond hair curled in the neck of a sweater that had seen better days, smiled at her. Oh my goodness. She felt flustered. He came towards her, holding out his hand. She couldn’t very well back away, so she took it reluctantly. She was not going to get involved again. And not with an English person. How could he ever really understand her? She was going to stay away from men until she finished her studies and went home. Ama and Daddy could find her someone suitable. She had had enough of being a modern woman.
His outstretched hand was still in front of her, and, despite her intentions to the contrary, she found she had grasped it with her small one. She felt warmth running through her; suddenly, it didn’t seem so cold.
“Hello,” he said. “My name’s Mike. Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Y…yes,” she stammered, blushing to the roots of her hair and pulling her dupatta round her face. “I’ve come to England to study.”
“Have you made many friends yet?”
She dipped her head in shame. “Only one. And he…,” she tailed off. Then, emboldened, “Are you the minister?”
Mike threw back his head and chuckled quietly. “Not me. Poor Reverend Walker. I don’t think I’m his idea of any kind of minister. But I do sort of minister in my own way. Why not come for a coffee with me, and I’ll tell you all about it? Maybe introduce you to some people?”
She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. She started to shake her head but, to her dismay, found she was nodding it instead. It was those eyes. Clear, fathomless eyes; they were almost hypnotic. She realised he still had hold of her hand and pulled it away. He smiled. “Oops. Sorry. Forgot to let go. Come on. There’s a nice little coffee shop not far away. It’s the Church coffee shop, you know. You’ll meet all sorts of people there, and you can warm up a bit.” He rubbed his hands together. “It’s freezing in here, isn’t it?”
Now she had her hand back, the warm glow she had felt before had disappeared, and she was shivering again. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. He seemed nice enough. But so had Jayesh. No. I’m not going to think of him, she told herself. Picking up her bags, she followed Mike out of the Church and towards a brightly lit shop. The warmth hit her like a blast of Indian air as he opened the door and ushered her in. Bright Christmas scenes festooned the walls, and carols hung on the air. The windows were all steamed up, and she rubbed a clear patch on the misty glass with the tip of her finger as Mike went to get coffees. She peeked out; suddenly everything seemed friendlier.
“This is more like it.” Mike sat down opposite her with a tray full of coffees and mince pies. A bunch of people squeezed around the table, moving chairs over from other empty tables, laughing and chatting. Anisha felt included in the festive atmosphere.
A beautiful woman in her late twenties, with long chestnut hair and grey eyes, sat next to Mike and smiled across the table at her. “Hi, I’m Jeannie.” She held Anisha’s eyes with her own, inviting her to reciprocate.
“Anisha,” she whispered, smiling shyly. Next to her, a girl with ginger corkscrew curls, a snub nose and freckles, held a clip board. She reminded Anisha of someone, but she couldn’t think who. She peeped at her through half-closed eyelids. It was the eyes; they were just like Mike’s. Not the same colour – light blue instead of green – but as Anisha looked at them, she had the sensation of looking into the past, present and future all at once. How strange. She shook her head slightly to clear it.
“This is Seraphina,” Mike introduced, “my colleague. You’ll have to watch her.” Seraphina dug him in the ribs, and he winced. “See that clipboard? She’ll have your name down on that in no time if you aren’t careful. Your time won’t be your own.” Seraphina gave him a little frown, but he just ruffled her curls.
“Oh, I…I think…I’m studying you see. I don’t think I could help.”
Seraphina gazed at her. “It’s a great way to make new friends. And you’d be helping us out. Just for one week?” She tilted her head on one side and watched Anisha quizically.
“Well, I…”
“Told you,” Mike chortled. “She’ll be working your fingers to the bone like she does with the rest of us.”
“Mike! Shhhh!” Seraphina looked as though she was trying not to laugh, but suddenly, the stern mouth quirked into a merry trill of laughter. “Oh, you! You’re impossible! Go on. Go get us some more coffee.
“See what I mean.” He grinned at Anisha, “She’s a proper slave-driver!” Seraphina tapped him on the head with her clipboard.
“Take no notice of him. He’s such a stirrer!”
By now, Anisha was feeling quite light-hearted, as well as light-headed. The banter had drawn her in and made her feel part of this group. “Well. I suppose I could…what would I need to do?”
Seraphina gave her a look of delight. Anisha felt as if she could really belong here with this happy-go-lucky crowd. “We run soup kitchens for the street people. Just over the Christmas period. We don’t belong to any organisation or anything, but we like to do our bit to help. And no one has anything organised in the areas we go to.”
Street people? Anisha’s smile faded. “You mean beggars?” She tried not to shudder. She’d seen them in the shadows and kept well away. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She’d be terrified.
“Oh come on, Anisha. They aren’t scary when you get to know them. And you won’t be alone. They have nothing. Not even family. Wouldn’t you like to help those worse off than yourself? You’d get a real blessing out of it.” The corkscrew curls jiggled as Seraphina held her head on one side winsomely. “I promise I’ll put you with someone who’ll look after you.” She studied her clipboard and made a few notes.
Anisha meant to shake her head but found herself nodding. Oh no! Now she was committed. Seraphina was already writing her name. She looked at Jeannie, who was watching her sympathetically. “Will you be going?”
“Sorry, I have something already booked. Mike and Seraphina will see you ok though. And I’ll see you around. We often meet here on a Friday night. Do come along. We’re a friendly bunch, aren’t we, you lot?”
“Yes, do come.” Jeannie was echoed by others at the table.
Despite herself, Anisha smiled. “Oh, very well.”
Seraphina clapped her hands delightedly. “And where can I get hold of you to let you know the arrangements? Do you have a mobile?”
It was something Anisha did have. She gave her the number. “And now, I must go. Friday did you say? See you all then.”
Seraphina gave her another long look. “Tell you what. Where do you live? I can give you a lift.”
No chance of backing out then. Anisha felt as though Seraphina had seen her thoughts. “That would be lovely. I must go now though. I have shopping.” She got up and collected her bags. Half of her was reluctant to leave. The other half was feeling a little overwhelmed. She wanted to go back to her digs and collect her thoughts. And she wanted to write to Daddy and Ama and tell them all about it. Jayesh was almost forgotten as she hurried back through the cold misty air, her heart lighter by far than she had felt since she arrived in England. With Jayesh, she had always felt nervous and eager to please, never as relaxed as she felt today. It was a good feeling. Almost like finding a home.
For the next two weeks, Anisha met up with the others at the coffee shop on Fridays, and a couple of times a week, she helped at the mobile soup kitchens but always stayed safely behind the counter. As the faces of the street people separated from the crowd and she got to know some of them, her terror at being on the streets late into the evening faded. And Seraphina always took her home safely. Anisha was starting to settle in and get to know people. She hadn’t realised how claustrophobic things had been with Jayesh. He didn’t even take me to meet his family, she thought indignantly – when she thought of him at all, which happened less and less. She didn’t miss him one bit, she realised to her surprise.
By Christmas Eve, she had resigned herself to not seeing her mother and father, but Jeannie had invited her to dinner, and there were parties to go to. No longer alone and shy, her world had expanded into a kaleidoscope of colour and fun. Her letters home were transformed. But however will I find time to study, she caught herself wondering, as she dashed back to her flat to put on warm clothes for the soup kitchen. Comfortable now in a thick woollen jumper, jeans – not too tight, she didn’t like those – and a big warm coat, hat and scarf, she waited outside her flat for Seraphina to pull up in the white van with blue wings painted over the back wheels. Ah. There she was. Anisha pulled the passenger door open and jumped in, only to freeze with horror as she realised it must be the wrong van.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, as she looked at the silhouette of a young man. “I thought this was Seraphina’s van.” She fumbled for the door handle, ready to leap out.
“Hi. You must be Anisha. Seraphina asked me to pick you up tonight. She’s running late, and you and I are on the same soup run as each other. I’m Simeon. We’re going to Wendley Road tonight. They have a bit of a special on after the soup, so I’m told. We’ve been invited to stay afterwards. I’ve never been on Christmas Eve before, have you?” He was gabbling, Anisha realised. Maybe she wasn’t the only one embarrassed by the change of plan. She stole a sideways look at him but couldn’t see his face properly. She didn’t want to turn her head and take a better look, so she concentrated on the road ahead.
They were driving to the outskirts of the city. She’d never been here before. And with a strange man. Her heart sank. What on earth were they going to talk about? She wriggled uncomfortably.
At last the van pulled up on a dark corner, and Simeon got out and started to unload. The mobile soup kitchen was there already. Seraphina was manning it and gave them a wave. Relief flooded through Anisha. Thank goodness.
“Did you bring loads more stuff, Simeon? We’re going to need it. I’ve almost run out. Busiest night of the year tonight.” She pushed her ginger curls out of her eyes and handed another cup of soup to a ragged individual standing by the hatch. “There you go, my love. That’ll warm you up. Come back later. There’ll be mince pies then.” The shabby figure muttered at her and shuffled off. “Come on, let’s get cracking. I’m only here for another hour, and then I have to go. I’m singing with a local choir. The rest of the crew will be back to pack up the soup kitchen later. You don’t have to do that. Just hand out the soup until it’s gone, then sit back and enjoy the show.”
“What show?” Anisha looked at Simeon in bewilderment.
“Search me.” He turned to the hatch. “Chicken soup? Or vegetable? Come on, Anisha. Let’s get busy. We can worry about that later.”
Two hours later, Anisha was flushed and laughing. The soup was all gone, and a cheery couple of youngsters had packed everything up and driven away. She peeped up shyly at Simeon beneath the street light. He turned laughing brown eyes to her and held out a strong brown hand. Shall we stay to watch the show then?” She hesitated. Would it be wise? She didn’t even know him. “Oh, do stay. I don’t know a soul here,” he pleaded.
“But you don’t know me either.’
He looked at her solemnly. “I know your name is Anisha. I know you are studying law at Uni.” He turned to her, swept off his scarf and bowed extravagantly. “Greetings, Mem. My name is Simeon. I am here studying journalism. I had been going to go to study at Karunya or Madras.” She gasped. Really? How strange. She hadn’t told anybody here about those two universities. He wrapped his scarf back around his neck, his teeth gleaming very white in the dark. “But I suddenly got the chance to come to Uni in England. How could I resist?” He stopped capering about and gave her a wistful look. “Oh, please. Do say you’ll stay. I’ll see you safely home. No funny business.”
Anisha looked at him, trying to be severe, but she could feel a dimple twinkling at the side of her mouth. “Very well. But you promise? No funny business?”
“You have my word. Mem.” Clowning around again, he put one arm around the lamp post, swung around it and made another of his ridiculous bows.
Laughing, she capitulated, and they wandered over to the group of outcasts collecting near a brazier. Mike was there, waving at them. Anisha breathed a small sigh of relief. Someone else she knew. They joined him, and he handed them mince pies. There was laughter and joking, but all of a sudden one of the down-and-outs gave a sibilant hiss, and a clock struck 11:45, chimes ringing out in the cold, crisp air. A silence fell, and Anisha heard Simeon give a sharp intake of breath. She looked up at the skies and gasped. It couldn’t be. No way!
It was. Before her disbelieving eyes, a huge angel choir was assembling, singing gloriously. Trumpets heralded a huge angel, who announced the age old words, “Peace and goodwill to all men, for today is born a Saviour, Christ the Lord.” She and Simeon stood there, reality suspended, taking in the sights and sounds of the Heavenly choir. Never in all her life had she experienced anything like this.
Anisha stepped back, catching her scarf on the handle of Aggie’s discarded shopping trolley. Turning to disentangle herself, she saw passers-by look at the small, tattered group, then glance upwards with blank faces and move on. Couldn’t they see it? Couldn’t they hear it? Shaking her head in astonishment, she lifted her eyes back to the magnificent sight. Her heart lifted, her soul seemed almost to rise out of her body and join the angels. Joy and rapture filled her until she felt she might explode; a silent tear ran unheeded down her cheek. Such beauty! Such majesty! Oh, what must Heaven be like? Caught up in the experience, she never noticed Simeon’s arm slip around her shoulder but instinctively nestled in to him, sheltering from the wind, all without taking her eyes from the heavens.
Slowly, the angels faded away and the stars came back out. Simeon let his arm fall from her shoulders and looked down at her, eyes shining. She opened her mouth to speak, but he put his finger to her lips, and they walked back to the van in silence. He held out his hand to her. Anisha hesitated. He gave her a steady look. “No funny business, Anisha, but I’d really like to get to know you better.” She smiled and held out her own hand. His warm fingers wrapped around hers, and they stood for a moment, gazing at each other. From behind them, Mike looked at them in satisfaction before he shook out his wings and soared upwards. Another job done.

The True Meaning of Christmas A Short Story ~ Janice Spina

With this being the week before Christmas the site is going in a new direction.  Instead of the usual book reviews, I am going to be featuring three short stories, two from Authors who work I have reviewed and one (today’s story) from an Author whose work I have not reviewed.

Please enjoy them, and I wish you all a very peaceful Christmas.

The True Meaning of Christmas
A Short Story
By
Janice Spina

Chapter 1
The little girl’s name is Clarinda. She is ten years old with long dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. She has never known what it is like to be warm or to have a full stomach. It is two days’ before Christmas and the house is bare of any signs of the holiday.
Clarinda woke up this morning and heard someone crying. She got up, grabbed her thin bathrobe and wrapped it around her quickly as she tiptoed over to the door. The floor felt cold under her feet and she felt around for her slippers, tattered as they were, they would be better than nothing at all to keep her feet warm. As she slowly opened her bedroom door the sounds were louder and she realized that they were coming from her mother’s room.
Clarinda’s mother, Miranda, was not well and hadn’t been for as long as she could remember. Her mother had progressively gotten weaker since her last two pregnancies with Clarinda’s siblings, Andrew, four and Brenda, two. Clarinda listened as she passed by her sibling’s bedroom to make sure they were not awake and needing her attention before going to her mother’s room.
In order to put food on the table for the family, Miranda had to take in washing and ironing for other people, well-to-do people. They paid well enough for her to keep her children in mended clothes and provide some meat on the table at least once a week. Her husband, Holden, had died shortly after their daughter, Brenda, was born leaving her with three children to care for without any money.
Miranda sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands as she cried. Her mind was whirling since the loss of her husband and she was devastated that she was too weak to continue working to take care of her children. She couldn’t afford to buy food never mind Christmas presents. Miranda looked up as the door to her bedroom slowly opened and Clarinda’s head popped in.
“Mommy, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Clarinda’s beautiful blue eyes looked at her mother with surprise and concern. They belayed her age and showed a deep intelligence. Clarinda’s eyes mirrored her father’s and only broke her mother’s heart more each time she look at her. The other two children favored their mother with their green eyes and blond hair.
“Oh, sweetie, I am all right. Just a little tired today. Don’t worry everything will be fine. Can you be a good girl now and go check on your brother and sister and bring then down to breakfast. I will make your favorite today – pancakes. We have one egg left and enough flour to make a few pancakes. You have been such a big help to Mommy. Now, go on hurry up, honey.”
Clarinda left her mother’s room and went to check on her siblings. Andrew and Brenda shared the same room and both were awake and chattering together as Clarinda entered. She told Andrew to get dressed as she changed her sister’s training diaper and dressed her in her pink pants and top. Brenda always wanted to wear pink – it was her favorite color. She smiled her sweet toddler smile after she was dressed and cuddled with Clarinda to say “thank you.”
Clarinda loved her brother and sister as if they were her own children; after all, she had been both a sister and a mother to then since they were born. She did all she could to help her mother but she was only ten and didn’t realize a lot about life yet and what it entailed to raise a family. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and took Andrew and Brenda by the hands and brought them down to the kitchen for breakfast. The enticing smell of pancakes was in the air and she found herself salivating and hurrying to set the table so they could eat. Their dinner the night before had been meager with a potato and a little gravy made from a soup bone and a piece of bread to sop up the precious liquid.
She put Brenda in her high chair and told Andrew to sit down as their mother flipped the first pancakes onto their plates. Clarinda had to cut up the pancake for Brenda and blow on the pieces so she wouldn’t burn herself trying to eat too fast. Brenda made num num sounds as she stuffed the pieces into her mouth as fast as she could. Clarinda took care of her siblings first before taking her first bite and felt herself melting with the delicious taste.
Miranda looked over at her children as they ate like it was their last meal. But, she thought sadly, it could be if her health didn’t improve soon. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t have anyone to turn to and didn’t want to lose her children if she asked the state for help. Clarinda was such a godsend and was already doing so much to help her. Could she ask her to do the washing and ironing too? No, she thought, she would have to do it herself but have Clarinda bring the basket of clothes to the Antonelli’s house and receive payment. Yes, that is what she would do.
Clarinda cleaned up the children’s faces and then tackled the table and the dishes in the sink as she waved at her mother to go lie down and rest. Miranda kissed her sweet daughter’s face and patted her on the head as she passed by to go to her room to rest.
Miranda called out to her daughter on her way to her room, “Thank you, sweetie, for cleaning up. I will just rest a little and then I will tackle the clothes and ironing. If you could bring the clothes over to the Antonelli’s after and pick up the payment that would be a great help to me.”
“Of course, Mommy, I will be happy to help you. I will watch the kids while you rest. I love you, Mommy.” Clarinda was fearful that her mother was going to die like her father did. She told her mother every chance she got that she loved her, thinking that maybe she would keep her healthy longer that way. She always felt terrible that her father died before she could say, “I Love you, Daddy.” Clarinda could feel tears brimming in her eyes and used her sleeve to wipe them away so that her siblings wouldn’t see her crying. She had to be strong for them.
Miranda lay down and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She stirred in her sleep dreaming of her husband and his hand was reaching out to her. She reached forward in her sleep to touch his hand but it just seemed too far out of reach.

Chapter 2
While her mother slept Clarinda kept the children busy as she read several books to them. At least they had books that she managed to get from the library that were going to be thrown away. They were tattered just like the rest of the things in her life.
It was nearly noon and her mother still had not woken up. She would have to feed the children their lunch and then tackle the clothes. Clarinda knew that if she didn’t get the clothes over to the Antonelli’s today they would not get paid full price for the wash. She put together the last two slices of bread to make a bread and butter sandwich and split it between the children. While they were busy eating she would start the wash.
There was a small basket in the laundry area which was filled with their clothes and the larger basket was the Antonelli’s. Clarinda put in the first load and added the detergent which was getting low. She made sure to use it sparingly so she would have enough to finish all the clothes. While the machine was going she hurried back to check on her brother and sister. Andrew and Brenda were just finishing up the last of their sandwiches and looking for more. Clarinda checked the cabinets once again for anything to fill their little stomachs before her own. She found a few crackers which she doled out to them and ate one herself. That would be the only lunch she would have. She wasn’t a large person but she felt she could afford to lose weight but not her younger siblings who needed the nourishment more. She gave them each a full glass of water to fill them up more before putting them both down for a nap. After tucking them in to their beds she hurried back to the clothes to transfer the clean ones to the dryer and the dirty ones into the washer. At this rate it would take all day to finish washing the clothes besides having to iron them too.
Clarinda worked tirelessly for two hours without stopping until she heard Brenda crying. She rushed through the last bit of ironing and shut off the iron. As she headed into the children’s room she was greeted by smiles and happy jumping as Brenda put her arms out to her from her crib and Andrew got out of bed and snuggled close to her side. Clarinda wrapped them both in her arms and held them tightly wanting only to protect and keep them safe – if only she could. She was getting concerned about her mother since she still hadn’t woken up yet.
With the children by her side she guided them to her mother’s room to see if she was ready to get up now. She needed for her mother to watch the children while she took the clothes to the Antonelli’s.
When she opened the bedroom door she noticed her mother’s arm was hanging over the side of the bed. She moved closer and turned on the light on the night stand. What she saw made her cry out in alarm. Her mother was still and not breathing. Clarinda shook her mother’s shoulder and called out her name. Clarinda was afraid that her mother might be gone and never wake up again. The children started to cry as they felt something was wrong when Clarinda cried out and only clung tighter to their sister.
Clarinda picked up the phone on the night stand and called Dr. Harvey who was their family physician. When his secretary, Denise, answered Clarinda couldn’t speak as tears kept flooding her eyes and chocking up her speech. The children only cried louder making it even more difficult for Clarinda to hear Denise as she asked what was wrong. Denise waved at Dr. Harvey as he came into the office and pointed to the phone mouthing that it was Clarinda. He picked up the extension and asked, “Clarinda, what is wrong sweetheart?” Dr. Harvey yelled into the phone to try to be heard over all the crying. “Where is your mother, dear?”
“Sss….she is in bed, Dr. Harvey. She is not moving and I can’t wake her up. I don’t know what to do. I have to take the clothes to the Antonelli’s or Mommy will be angry and she won’t get paid. Can you come over and help me?” Clarinda sniffled and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeves as she tried to hold onto the children at the same time. They were so frightened they wouldn’t let go of her anyway.
“Of course, Clarinda, I will be right over. Just sit tight and I’ll come and check on your mother and stay with the children while you take over the clothes. Okay, dear. Please don’t cry now. I will be right there.” Dr. Harvey put down the phone and felt his hands shaking as he took in what the poor child must be dealing with. He needed to get over to her house immediately. He told his secretary to hold all calls and postpone his afternoon appointments and that he would not be in the office the rest of the day. Denise nodded sadly, “Of course, Dr. Harvey. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, Denise, but thank you. I need to find out if Miranda is okay and stay with the young ones. Clarinda is in such a state over the Antonelli’s clothes. I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten for the family. I feel terrible that I could have helped the Davises in some way and didn’t. Could you please lock up after you contact all the patients? Go home early, Denise, you work too hard and need a break. Thank you for everything.”
“No problem, Dr. Harvey. I hope Mrs. Davis is okay. If you need a babysitter I can go over there after I leave here. Call me on my cell. Okay?”
“That is very kind of you, Denise, but I think I can manage. But it is good to know that you are available in case I need you. Thank you. I will see you tomorrow.”
Dr. Harvey left his office and waved at some arriving patients who looked a little concerned that he was going out when they were coming in. All he could think about was what he would find when he got to the Davis’ house.
Clarinda paced back and forth with Brenda in her arms and Andrew hanging onto her right leg. She kept looking out the window hoping to see Dr. Harvey’s car. It had only be twenty minutes since she spoke to him. He did say he was coming. But she was worried because her mother still hadn’t woken up.
Dr. Harvey pulled into the Davis’ drive and got out of his car. He looked up and saw Clarinda in the window waving at him to come in. He could see she was still crying and the children were upset too. He carried his medical bag with him as he stepped up to the door. He didn’t get to knock as the door was pulled open and Clarinda ran into his arms choking back more tears.
Dr. Harvey patted her on the back and held her as she cried uncontrollably. He moved into the living room with Clarinda hanging onto him while the little ones hung onto her. He wanted to console her but needed to get into Miranda’s room to check her out. He was concerned that she was close to comatose if what Clarinda said was true about not being able to wake her up. He only hoped he wasn’t too late to help her.

Chapter 3
“Clarinda, please sit down and try to calm yourself down so the little ones won’t be upset too. Okay, dear. I will go check on your mother and be right back. Why don’t you give the children something to eat while I am gone?
“We….we don’t have any more food, Dr. Harvey. I gave the children the rest of the food for lunch. That is why I have to go to the Antonelli’s to get paid for washing and ironing their clothes.” Clarinda started crying again and this time couldn’t stop. Her siblings started whining and fussing once
they saw their sister upset again.
“Oh, my goodness, Clarinda, I am so sorry I didn’t know. I will take you over to the Antonelli’s child and then we will all go out to get something to eat. Okay? Now just sit tight and calm the children down.”
Dr. Harvey sadly shook his head and felt a deep guilt for not knowing how bad the situation was for this poor family. He vowed to get them some help as soon as he assessed the medical health of their mother.
Dr. Harvey opened the door to Miranda’s room and flicked on the light. What he saw wasn’t good. Miranda was laying on her side with her left arm hanging over the side of the bed. Her eyes were closed and he couldn’t detect any movement in her chest to indicate she was breathing. He pulled out his stethoscope and bent over her body to listen to her lungs and pulses. Her chest was congested and he detected a light heart rhythm and he lifted up her eyelids to check her pupils which were reacting to light. She would need to be hospitalized with what appeared to be a severe case of pneumonia. Dr. Harvey lifted up the phone and called the hospital to get an ambulance for Miranda ASAP.
His next concern was to take care of the children. He made another call to the Antonelli’s on the next block to see what they could do to help.
“Hello, yes, this is Mrs. Antonelli. Who is this?”
“This is Dr. Harvey. I am with Miranda Davis and her children. I need your help, Mrs. Antonelli. I learned from Clarinda, her ten-year-old daughter, that she was to bring over your wash and be paid for this service. Is that correct?”
“Oh, well, Mrs. Davis always brought over the wash not her daughter. What
can I do for you, Dr. Harvey? I don’t understand.”
“Well, Mrs. Davis is very ill and is going into the hospital and will be unable to take care of her three children. Do you think you could help her by taking her children in until she is out of the hospital and well enough to take care of them again? I really don’t know where to turn at this time. They are really in desperate need and it is almost Christmas. Do you think you can help?” Dr. Harvey waited what seemed like minutes but were actually only
thirty seconds before Mrs. Antonelli uttered a word.
“I see. I didn’t realize that Mrs. Davis was sick or I wouldn’t have asked her to continue to work for me. I am sorry to hear that. I also didn’t realize she had three children. I only know of Clarinda. How old are the other two children?” Mrs. Antonelli’s voice sounded a little surprised by the fact that there were three children to care for.
Dr. Harvey continued to persuade Mrs. Antonelli as he said, “Besides Clarinda who is ten, there is her brother Andrew, four, and sister, Brenda, who is two. Life has not been easy for them and Clarinda has been taking care of them all by herself since her mother has been sick. Anything you can do to help would be greatly appreciated. I need to take Miranda to the hospital now so if you could come over here and watch the children or pick them up and take them to your house it would be helpful. Oh, and Mrs. Antonelli, please feed them. They haven’t had much to eat today.” Dr. Harvey was getting a little anxious for Mrs. Antonelli’s answer as he watched the ambulance pull up outside the house.
Mrs. Antonelli finally answered positively, much to the relief of Dr. Harvey, “I will be right over to pick up the children, Doctor.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Antonelli. I appreciate your help. It will mean a lot to Mrs. Davis too. She is in a bad way right now and can’t thank you herself but I will let her know what you are doing as soon as she is lucid. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Antonelli.”
Mrs. Antonelli answered back, “Merry Christmas, Dr. Harvey.” But the phone in her hand was sounding a dial tone.

Chapter 4
Mrs. Antonelli, Angela, as most people knew her, grabbed her coat off the high coat rack and her keys off the counter and went out to the garage to her Bentley to drive over to Mrs. Davis’ to pick up the children. She was not a cold person but she was anxious about having to take care of three children. She never could have any of her own though she and her husband had tried for many years until she knew it was not to be. She didn’t know if she could do this but to refuse would be inhumane since Mrs. Davis was going to the hospital and had no one to take care of the children. She would just have to do her best and soon their mother would be back in good health.
Angela pulled into the drive next to the ambulance and ran up to the door as the EMTs rolled out a stretcher with Mrs. Davis. She moved aside and went into the house and was met by Dr. Harvey. Behind him stood three little waifs who looked scared and lost and so sad. She noticed they had all been recently crying which touched her deeply. She wanted to wrap her arms around them and tell them it was going to be all right. But she found that she couldn’t move and didn’t until Dr. Harvey brought her out of her stupor.
“Mrs. Antonelli please come it. Let me introduce you to the children – Clarinda, Andrew, and Brenda. They have been looking forward to meeting you and staying with you until their mother is well.”
Dr. Harvey leaned forward and whispered out of earshot of the children, “Thank you, Mrs. Antonelli, for doing this. It means the world to me and to Mrs. Davis. Clarinda will pack up some clothes and things for herself and her siblings and be ready to leave shortly. Now I need to follow the ambulance and get to the hospital to take care of Mrs. Davis. Thank you again, Mrs. Antonelli. It is wonderful of you to do this. I will contact you to see how the children are doing in a day or so. Take care children and be good for Mrs. Antonelli.”
Mrs. Antonelli turned to look at Clarinda but was at a loss for words as she watched the tears flowing from the ten-year-olds’ eyes. It hurt her deeply to see the child in such torment. She offered Clarinda her handkerchief to wipe her tears and watched as the child composed herself and put on a strong front for her siblings who looked on with frightened faces. They were just babies, thought Angela. What was she taking on? Could she do this?
Angela waved at the little ones and put her hands out to them and they came forward and grabbed onto her fingers as they were visibly trembling from everything going on around them. Angela could see they were confused and frightened and missed their mother. She waited at the door with the children holding tightly to her fingers as Clarinda came back with her hands full of clothes and a few ragged stuffed animals. She rummaged around in the kitchen for a plastic bag in which to put their clothes and two stuffed animals.

Chapter 5
Now it was time to go to Mrs. Antonelli’s house. She really didn’t know anything about this lady but what her mother had told her – she was a cold woman who didn’t like children and never had any of her own. Would she be good to her and her siblings? She would protect her brother and sister and not let this lady hurt them in any way. She took a deep breath as she always had to get her strength up and face whatever was ahead. She turned to face Mrs. Antonelli who was holding onto her brother and sister.
Mrs. Antonelli looked kindly at Clarinda and said, “Hi Clarinda, it is nice to meet you. I hope you and your brother and sister will be happy staying with me while your mother recuperates. Do you have everything you need? If not, I will get whatever you need for all of you. Don’t worry about anything, dear. Let me take care of you.” Angela waited to see what Clarinda would say but she just looked at Mrs. Antonelli with eyes full of tears threatening to fall.
Mrs. Antonelli beckoned for Clarinda to come forward so they could leave. The children were getting antsy and tired and were hungry. They hadn’t eaten since noon time. Clarinda only hoped that Mrs. Antonelli would feed the children so they would be able to sleep the night through with full tummies. She couldn’t remember when she last had a full tummy at bedtime or any time.
Angela led the children out to her car after locking up the house and making sure that Clarinda had a key to get back in case she forgot something. After making sure the children were snapped into seat belts she headed home. She would have to make sure she purchased car seats for the younger children. At least she didn’t have to go too far with them since she only lived a block away and didn’t have to worry about being stopped and fined for not having them in car seats.
When they arrived at her house, Angela went to the kitchen and prepared a nourishing dinner for the children. They looked a little pale and underfed and by what Dr. Harvey said they were very needy. Looking around the room at their house she hadn’t seen any signs of toys that children always leave out and about. She reminded herself to make a list for toys and more snacks that kids like on her next shopping trip. The saddest of all was the lack of any Christmas decorations for the children in their house. She would take care of that too before Christmas.

Chapter 6
In the meantime Angela had a lot to do and for once in her life felt alive and full of purpose and needed. Her husband was expected from work shortly and she would have to call ahead to prepare him for what she had promised to do. Leonard was a kind man and would be more than accepting of their three young visitors.
Angela dialed her husband and Leonard answered in his usual gregarious voice, “Hi Doll Face! How are you? You couldn’t wait for me to come home – you missed me that much? Is everything okay, love?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I just wanted to tell you something that I did today. It’s very important and I needed to help and……” Angela didn’t know how to tell him but finally blurted it out. “I took in Mrs. Davis’ three children, the lady who does our curtains and things over on the next block. She was just admitted to the hospital in a bad way and her physician, Dr. Harvey, called me to help out until she is well enough to care for her children again.”
“Sweetheart, whatever you have to do is okay with me. I know you have a kind heart and would take in any stray dog if it needed your help. It is fine with me. How did this doctor know to call you? Do you know him?”
“No, but he knew from Mrs. Davis’ oldest daughter that she worked for me. He said he didn’t have anyone else to call. I hope you don’t mind, darling. They will be under my care and you won’t have to worry about anything.”
“No, I don’t mind. Our house is too big for just us anyway and it would be nice to hear the pitter patter of little feet for a change. Oh, by the way, how old are these children?”
“Well, the oldest, Clarinda, is ten and a real beauty with dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes, then there is Andrew, a handsome four-year-old with blond hair and green eyes and his baby sister, Brenda, who is only two. She is just adorable with curly blonde hair and pretty green eyes. Your heart will melt when you meet them. They are so precious and so needy. Would you believe that they don’t own any toys or new clothes? Also, there were no signs of Christmas in their house. It is so sad for children to live that way. Their mother was having a difficult time on her own. I never realized that she needed help. I would have been more than happy to help if she only had asked me.”
“I am sure you will do more than enough to help them now that you know they need help, sweetheart. It is good to hear you sounding so happy. I can’t wait to get home to meet them. See you soon, Angela.”

Chapter 7
Angela put down the phone and continued making dinner, mac and cheese and chicken fingers and mixed veggies. She wanted to make sure the kids got their veggies too. She heard the sound of feet coming up behind her and looked down to see the sweet faces of Brenda and Andrew and close behind was Clarinda. They were looking at the food with such longing that she told them to go wash their hands and faces and come sit down to eat. They hurried along to the bathroom that had been pointed out to them earlier and came back and sat down before Angela could turn back around with the food in hand.
The children were sitting down with napkins tucked under their chins and forks in hand waiting expectantly for their much coveted dinner. Angela placed a plate full of food in front of each child and stepped back. Clarinda jumped up and ran over to her sister’s side and began cutting up her chicken and then moved over to Andrew’s and did the same for him. Angela watched in awe as this young girl acted as if she was their mother. Once she had taken care of her sibling’s needs she sat down and began to eat her own food.
The children were so hungry that they ate too fast at first and began to choke. Clarinda jumped up once again to aid her siblings and told them to slow down and chew their food carefully. Angela sat at the other end of the table and watched as the children finished every last morsel in their dishes and drank every drop of their milk.
Angela asked them, “Would you like more food or milk?”
“No, we are fine, thank you, Mrs. Antonelli. It was very good.” Clarinda turned to her siblings and said, “Say ‘thank you’ to Mrs. Antonelli, Brenda and Andrew.”
“Tank you,” said Brenda.
“Thank you,” replied Andrew who smiled showing some chicken still stuck in his teeth.
Angela had to keep herself busy and grabbed the plates off the table to prevent her eyes from filling and spilling over in front of the children. She mumbled, “You are welcome, children.”
Leonard had walked in quietly and had witnessed this unbeknownst to his wife and suddenly cleared his throat to get her attention. She rushed over to hug him and then introduced him to the children. They stood up and looked at him not sure what to do or say.
Clarinda broke the silence by saying, “Hello, Mr. Antonelli, nice to meet you. Thank you for letting us stay in your home.” She walked over to Leonard and extended her small hand in greeting.
Leonard was a loss for words and just reached over and shook her hand and smiled at her as she looked up at him with the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen besides his wife’s, that is.
Clarinda brought her brother and sister in turn over to Mr. Antonelli and they both shake his hand too. Leonard just wiped his eyes and smiled and said, “It is a real pleasure to meet all of you too. I hope you enjoy staying with us as much as I am sure we will enjoy you being here.”
Angela finished up the dishes and told Leonard that she was going to put the children to bed upstairs in the three guest rooms. They had five bedrooms and four bathrooms which they had hoped one day to fill. Now at least they would be using three of them. The children followed Angela up the long winding staircase to begin their unexpected stay at this big strange house.
When they were situated in their rooms Clarinda requested that they all stay in the same room since there were two beds in each spacious room which was more than enough for the three of them. She didn’t want to be separated from her siblings and they too would not do well too far away from her either. Once Brenda’s head hit the pillow she was off as well as Andrew. It was the first time they had full stomachs at bedtime. Once she was sure they were asleep she allowed herself to snuggle down under the warm, soft comforter and she, too, fell fast asleep.
Angela peeked in at them and tucked them all in and gave each a peck on the cheek. She shut off the light but not before looking fondly at each sweet face in the beds. She felt such a longing and a tightness in her chest that she thought she was having a heart attack. She realized that it was pure joy at finally having children in her home, something that she had always wanted.

Chapter 8
Angela flew downstairs to her husband and rushed into his arms as her tears fell onto his shoulder. He held her tightly and said, “Whatever happens, sweetheart, I promise you that we will adopt a child once these children go back to their mother. I see now how much you need to have a child and, I have to admit, I need one too. These three are very precious aren’t they?”
“I pray that their mother recovers and can take care of them. I wanted to talk to you about that. Do you think she will mind if we give each child a share of our trust so that they can have enough to eat, clothes to wear and be able to get a good education one day. Maybe we can give them the best Christmas they ever had this year.”
“Tomorrow we will go out and start Christmas shopping for the children and decorate the house and get a tree and…… Oh, Leonard, I have never felt happier in my life all due to poor Mrs. Davis’ getting sick. I pray that she will be well soon. In the meantime we will give her children a home with us and do all we can to help her by paying all her bills in the hospital and on her house. No one should have to live as she did. Maybe she would like to live here with us. We certainly have enough room for everyone. We have so much to give and we need so little for ourselves. Up until now I didn’t feel like celebrating Christmas and hadn’t even bothered to put up the tree. But now with these lovely children I want to go all out and decorate from top to bottom.”
“Yes, my darling, whatever your heart desires we will do. It is such a joy to see you so happy. But let’s take it one day at a time. We don’t want Mrs. Davis to feel as if we are trying to take over. She may want to go to her own home when she is well.
The ringing of the phone startled them as they were lost in their plans. Leonard went to pick it up and raised his hand for Angela to come closer as she heard him say, “Yes, Dr. Harvey, the children are doing fine. They are all tucked in bed and sound asleep. How is Mrs. Davis doing? Do you know when she will be returning home yet?”
Dr. Harvey explained, “She is very sick but is coming around now and is taking fluids. I hope to see her feeling better by tomorrow in case you want to bring the children by for a little while. They will have to wear masks when they visit with her. We don’t want them getting sick too. She asked for them as soon as she was awake. I told her that you and your wife were taking care of them. She was very pleased and said to tell you ‘thank you very much for your kindness.’”
“Yes, we were just discussing that. We want to bring the children by on Christmas Day so they can celebrate the day with their mother. I will bring a dinner for all of us if you care to join us. Will the hospital allow us to do that?”
“I will make sure they do. Don’t you worry about that, Mr. Antonelli. I have a lot of pull around here. Mrs. Davis will be very happy to hear this. It will give her an extra day to recuperate and rest more. This is very gracious of both of you. Thank you. Well, I just wanted to check in on the children. Have to get back to rounds. Hope you both have a good evening and thank you again. Goodnight.”
“You are very welcome, Dr. Harvey. Goodnight.” Leonard hung up the phone and turned to his wife and nodded. “It is all set we can go visit on Christmas. The children will be so happy.”
“I am happy too.” Angela smiled and twirled around as she felt her heart swell with all the joy that was bubbling up inside her.

Chapter 9
Clarinda jumped up from her warm bed and looked around and realized where she was but something wasn’t right. Oh my God! She just remembered she forgot to bring Mrs. Antonelli’s wash? How would she get paid so she could buy the children gifts for Christmas? She must tell Mrs. Antonelli.
Clarinda ran all the way down the stairs and stopped at the foot of the stairs when she saw the Antonelli’s hugging and crying. She wondered what was wrong. Were they upset because she and her siblings were there?
She coughed to get their attention but didn’t move. The Antonelli’s turned around and were surprised to see Clarinda standing there staring at them and looking a little upset.
They went over to her and took her into their arms and hugged her. Clarinda hugged them back but was surprised at their gesture. She stepped back and said, “Excuse me Mr. & Mrs. Antonelli, but I almost forgot to tell you I finished your wash and left it at my house. Do you want me to go get it so you can pay me? I need to buy my brother and sister and mother a gift for Christmas.”
“Oh, no, dear sweet child. You will never have to wash or do anything like that again. We will take care of you and your siblings and your mother for as long as we live and you will never want for anything. May God bless you all. You will always have a home here, too, if you ever need us.”
Clarinda couldn’t say a word she was shocked at what these nice people had just said. All she could do was cry and run into their arms and kiss them and thank them again and again but added, “Can we go visit our mother in the hospital on Christmas Day? I don’t want her to be alone.” Clarinda looked on the verge of tears just talking about her sick mother.
“Oh, dear sweet child, of course. We were going to tell you tomorrow about what we planned to do. We are going to go shopping for new clothes for you and your siblings and buy each of you a present to give to your mother for Christmas. We will bring a Christmas dinner to her and we can all eat together. I am sure the hospital will allow us to eat together so we can celebrate the holiday as a family. When we get back we will go over to your house and decorate and buy some new things for your rooms and for your mother too. We want your house to look like new for when your mother returns home.” Angela had tears in her eyes as she explained their plan.
“Oh, Mr. & Mrs. Antonelli, this is the best Christmas I have ever had! Thank you so much! Now I can go to asleep! I can’t wait to tell Andrew and Brenda that we are going to see Mama and celebrate Christmas together. Good night and Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, sweet child!”
Angela and Leonard hugged and cried as they talked excitedly about what they were going to do and buy for the children and their mother for Christmas. They had never remembered feeling such pure joy. They gave thanks to God for bringing these children and their mother into their lonely lives. They vowed from this day on to always give to those in need not just at Christmas time but all the time.
Leonard looked at his lovely wife as she beamed with joy and said, “I often asked myself – ‘What is the true meaning of Christmas?’ Now I know – this is the true meaning of Christmas, besides being the day of Jesus’ birth of course – it is giving to others in need.”

Copyrighted by Janice Spina 2014

Review: Where Angels Tread ~ Loretta Livingstone

Jeannie: Innocent and shy. Kicked out by her mother, Rita.
Matt: Predatory and dangerous. Is Rita really who he wants?
Rod and Carla on a romantic city break, and Jeremy, just seven years old, out with his dad.
And just who exactly is Mike? Could there be more to him than meets the eye?
Strangers whose lives are destined to cross more than once and change forever.

Making the transition from Poet to Author is a tricky one that some Poets are not able to make successfully; however, this Poet has managed to add Author to their résumé with what appears to be consummate ease.

In this debut novella the readers given the chance to read of series of short stories; but are they just short stories?  Each one of them is a tale within itself, but the Author manages skilfully to weave them all together to centre on the main character.  The stories are all based on the same theme, but told from the different perspectives of each of the characters involved.

The characters are well-written and immediately spring to life on the page.  In writing the characters this Author has managed to give a name and a back story to members of our society that often go overlooked, the homeless.  The main protagonist, around which all these stories revolve is a young homeless girl; fragile, vulnerable and scared, but also determined to make the best of her lot.  The reason she finds herself in this situation is handled with kid gloves, and although brings a powerful picture of the home life of this girl, it is not done in such a manner that it could offend or shock those who are of a sensitive nature.

In writing this novella the Author is able to remind the reader that, in this world of chaos, violence and the unspeakable acts we commit against each other, there is hope and that humanity has not become so lost that there is no way back.  Yes, this book does have religious undertones to it, but that does not make it a novella that cannot be enjoyed by the religious and non-religious alike.

I would highly recommend this book to any and all readers who are looking for a short uplifting read that proves the world is not such a miserable place after all.  My reason for the 4 thumbs rating…it just wasn’t long enough.  I look forward to reading more fiction from this Author.

Review: Children of Fire ~ Mary Fonvielle

“An entire race no one has seen in hundreds of years.”

Born to a people reduced to legend and superstition, Ankenar was ready to live out his life as the overlooked middle child, but when his family and race are threatened he must reach out to a world that has forgotten him.

 

Warning: read this book at your own peril.  This short will draw you in hook, line and sinker and leave you frustrated at the end with the words “To be continued”

At only 90 pages long, this short sets the groundwork for some extremely believable characters that will have you fully connecting to them by the time those dreaded words above appear on the page.  This was the perfect start to a series; not too long that the reader would wonder whether they would be able to carry on the journey with the characters, but also not too short to have them thinking I really don’t care what happens to them.  The only way I can accurately write my opinions on the main protagonist is to liken them to someone you meet at either a dinner or conference, do not get to spend too much time getting to know them, but learn just enough to make you want more.

The Author manages, with great skill and use of words to pack a dynamic storyline into a very small amount of pages; and it’s this plot that will have the reader fully exercising their imagination and creativity as they read about the world the Author has created.  There were many things that brought to mind for me the possibility that this short was the stepping off point into an epic not dissimilar to The Lord of the Rings, which not a bad thing at all, as the plot line is not similar and, therefore, leaves lot of room for expansion into a new and equally enveloping realm.

The reason I gave this book 4 thumbs was its length; it left me wanting more, and this means I will definitely be reading the remainder of books in this series as fast as the Author can publish.  I would, therefore, highly recommend this book to lovers of fantasy epics, but would strongly advise them to have book 2 in the series on hand for when they reach the end of this one.

Bite-sized Scares

I’ve noticed recently that the internet has been buzzing with the latest in horror fiction; that is the two sentence kind of fiction not the full blown novel.  Courtesy of salon.com, here six novelists try their hand at what is fast becoming a new subgenre.  Some may chill you and others may make you shrug your shoulders; hopefully there’s something here that most will like.

 

It wasn’t what you’d expect, how she knew she was never truly alone. It was the damp trail of moisture she sometimes found–along the arch of her spine, across her shoulders, between her breasts — that let her know he was there.

 

Could it be that he really did remember to put the chains on the truck tires, that she came back from the valley with the baby formula as expected, in spite of the freak snowstorm, and nursed the child, nursed him that night and each night for the next three months at the appointed hour, the hour when once again tonight he feels her hand on his shoulder and rouses from sleep to find her standing over him, blankly beseeching, wondering where the child has gone, not realizing that the child is living with her parents now, that he couldn’t raise the child on his own, that he has since that night been incapable even of cooking his own meals in this empty cottage in the woods at the top of the hill their trucked slipped and swerved on, and off of which it tumbled in the snow all the way to the creek below; could it be that he has dreamed these terrible months of loneliness and guilt, that this is not her ghost, that this hand is corporeal, that the cold bed is an illusion and she has touched him only to acknowledge him as she rises to gather the child from the crib?
No, apparently not.

 

When I was 9, the birds stopped still in the sky and I saw the men that move between moments. They sang silently as they prepared the lake where my little sister was about to drown.

 

Because my mom was moving houses, she made me come over and go through all my childhood stuff. When I got home, the Raggedy Ann I’d bagged up to be tossed was sitting upright on my bed, smelling of smoke, with her hair half burnt and a charred smile that looked like it meant me no good.

 

The Murder House Tour is bullshit: the House of the Crazed Chiropractor, the House of the Fallen Weatherman, the House of the Ill-Informed Doomsday Cult. The last stop is a prefab, modern and obviously brand -new, and I ask, “Who was murdered here?” right before the screams.

 

Entranced, he followed her to her door and after she’d gone in, peeked through the keyhole, seeing only what seemed like a deep red lake. Only later did he learn ghosts’ eyes are red.

 

Don’t Turn on the Light ~ S.E. Schlosser

She commandeered the room in the basement of her dorm as soon as she realized she would have to pull an all-nighter in order to prepare for tomorrow’s final exam. Her roommate, Jenna, liked to get to bed early, so she packed up everything she thought she would need and went downstairs to study . . . and study . . . and study some more.

It was two o’clock, when she realized that she’d left one of the textbooks upstairs on her bed. With a dramatic sigh, she rose, and climbed the stairs slowly to her third-floor dorm room.

The lights were dim in the long hallway, and the old boards creaked under her weary tread. She reached her room and turned the handle as softly as she could, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside, so that the hall lights wouldn’t wake her roommate.

The room was filled with a strange, metallic smell. She frowned a bit, her arms breaking out into chills. There was a strange feeling of malice in the room, as if a malevolent gaze were fixed upon her.  It was a mind trick; the all-nighter was catching up with her.

She could hear Jenna breathing on the far side of the room—a heavy sound, almost as if she had been running. Jenna must have picked up a cold during the last tense week before finals.

She crept along the wall until she reached her bed, groping among the covers for the stray history textbook. In the silence, she could hear a steady drip-drip-drip sound. She sighed silently. Facilities would have to come to fix the sink in the bathroom…again.

Her fingers closed on the textbook. She picked it up softly and withdrew from the room as silently as she could.

Relieved to be out of the room, she hurried back downstairs, collapsed into an overstuffed chair and studied until six o’clock.  She finally decided that enough was enough. If she slipped upstairs now, she could get a couple hours’ sleep before her nine o’clock exam.

The first of the sun’s rays were beaming through the windows as she slowly slid the door open, hoping not to awaken Jenna. Her nose was met by an earthy, metallic smell a second before her eyes registered the scene in her dorm room. Jenna was spread-eagled on top of her bed against the far wall, her throat cut from ear to ear and her nightdress stained with blood. Two drops of blood fell from the saturated blanket with a drip-drip noise that sounded like a leaky faucet.

Scream after scream poured from her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself any more than she could cease wringing her hands. All along the hallway, doors slammed and footsteps came running down the passage.

Within moments other students had gathered in her doorway, and one of her friends gripped her arm with a shaking hand and pointed a trembling finger toward the wall. Her eyes widened in shock at what she saw. Then she fainted into her friend’s arms.

On the wall above her bed, written in her roommate’s blood, were the words: “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?”

Spooky Maryland: Tales of Hauntings, Strange Happenings, and Other Local Lore, retold by S.E. Schlosser

Axe Murder Hollow ~ S.E.Schlosser

Susan and Ned were driving through a wooded empty section of highway. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, the sky went dark in the torrential downpour.

“We’d better stop,” said Susan.

Ned nodded his head in agreement. He stepped on the brake, and suddenly the car started to slide on the slick pavement. They plunged off the road and slid to a halt at the bottom of an incline.

Pale and shaking, Ned quickly turned to check if Susan was all right.  When she nodded, Ned relaxed and looked through the rain soaked windows.

“I’m going to see how bad it is,” he told Susan, and when out into the storm. She saw his blurry figure in the headlight, walking around the front of the car. A moment later, he jumped in beside her, soaking wet.

“The car’s not badly damaged, but we’re wheel-deep in mud,” he said. “I’m going to have to go for help.”

Susan swallowed nervously. There would be no quick rescue here. He told her to turn off the headlights and lock the doors until he returned.

Axe Murder Hollow. Although Ned hadn’t said the name aloud, they both knew what he had been thinking when he told her to lock the car.  This was the place where a man had once taken an axe and hacked his wife to death in a jealous rage over an alleged affair. Supposedly, the axe-wielding spirit of the husband continued to haunt this section of the road.

Outside the car, Susan heard a shriek, a loud thump, and a strange gurgling noise. But she couldn’t see anything in the darkness.

Frightened, she shrank down into her seat. She sat in silence for a while, and then she noticed another sound.  Bump. Bump. Bump.  It was a soft sound, like something being blown by the wind.

Suddenly, the car was illuminated by a bright light.  An official sounding voice told her to get out of the car. Ned must have found a police officer.  Susan unlocked the door and stepped out of the car.  As her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she saw it.

Hanging by his feet from the tree next to the car was the dead body of Ned.  His bloody throat had been cut so deeply that he was nearly decapitated. The wind swung his corpse back and forth so that it thumped against the tree. Bump. Bump. Bump.

Susan screamed and ran toward the voice and the light. As she drew close, she realized the light was not coming from a flashlight. Standing there was the glowing figure of a man with a smile on his face and a large, solid, and definitely real axe in his hands. She backed away from the glowing figure until she bumped into the car.

“Playing around when my back was turned,” the ghost whispered, stroking the sharp blade of the axe with his fingers. “You’ve been very naughty.”

The last thing she saw was the glint of the axe blade in the eerie, incandescent light.

Spooky Pennsylvania: Tales of Hauntings, Strange Happenings, and Other Local Lore, retold by S.E. Schlosser

The Handshake ~ S.E. Schlosser

Polly was the sweetest, prettiest girl in Goldsboro, yes sir.  All the local boys were chasing her, and quite a number of the fellows from the surrounding countryside were too.  All the girls were jealous of Polly ‘cause they didn’t have no sweethearts to take them to the local dances.  They all wanted Polly to choose her man so things could go back to normal.  But Polly was picky.  None of the local boys suited her, and neither did the fellows from the back country.

Then one day, George Dean came home from university, and Polly was smitten.  Polly completely dropped all her other beaus when George came courting, and it wasn’t long before George proposed and Polly accepted.

Polly started making preparations for the wedding and shopping for items to fill her new home.   George wasn’t too interested in all the fripperies and wedding details.  He left the womenfolk to get on with it and started spending time down at the pool hall with some of his buddies.  And that’s where he met Helene, the owner’s saucy daughter.  She had bold black eyes and ruby red lips, and a bad-girl air that fascinated George.  He spent more and more time at the pool hall, and less and less time with Polly, who finally noticed in spite of all the hustle and bustle.

Of course, Polly was furious.  She immediately  confronted George with the story, and he couldn’t deny it.  Suddenly, George had to toe the mark.  His pool-hall visits were over, and he spent every free hour he wasn’t at work by her side.  That didn’t sit well with George, but his family backed Polly up, so he  went along with it.

The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright.  The guests filled the sanctuary, and the pastor and the best man waited patiently in the ante-chamber for the arrival of the groom.  But George didn’t come.  Eventually, they went searching for the missing bridegroom, and found out he’d left town with Helene an hour before the wedding.  With dread, Polly’s mother went to tell her daughter what had happened.  Polly, all bright and shining and lovely in her long white dress and soft wedding veil, turned pale when her mother broke the news.  Then she stiffened, grabbing her left arm as a sudden pain ripped through it.   She was dead from a massive heart attack long before she hit the floor.

A few days later, Polly was buried in the churchyard, still wearing her white wedding dress and veil.  The whole town came to the funeral and wept at the passing of such a beautiful young girl.   George and Helene, who had spent the week happily honeymooning in the Outer Banks, arrived home at the very moment that the black-clad crowd exited the churchyard.  Their arrival caused a commotion.  The minister had to pull Polly’s father off George before he killed him.  And both George and Helene’s family disowned the couple right there in the street in front of everyone.  The couple fled town in disgrace.

Time passed, and eventually the scandal was forgotten.  Until the day George’s father passed away.  It was rumored that he was to be buried in the local churchyard just a few plots away from the girl who had almost become his daughter.  Suddenly, the story of Polly’s jilting was revived and folks wondered aloud if George would dare attend his father’s funeral.  But George was too clever for them.  He waited at an inn outside of town until it was dark, and then he went to the churchyard to pay his last respects to his father.

As he unburdened himself at his father’s graveside, George heard a sweet female voice calling his name.  “George.  Sweetheart.”  George looked up in sudden hope.  Was that his mother, come to forgive him?  Then he saw, rising up from a grassy mound under a spreading oak tree, a figure in a long white gown and a soft veil.  Her eyes and her lips were yellow flames beneath the veil, and the rotted wedding dress glowed with a white-yellow light.  It was Polly.

George’s body stiffened, shudders of fear coursing up and down his arms and legs.  He put a shaking hand to his mouth and staggered backward, the other hand outstretched out ward off the specter floating toward him.  The spectral bride cackled with angry laughter and swooped forward until its hand closed over George’s outstretched one in a terrible parody of a handshake.  The grip of the spectral bride was so cold it burned the skin, and so hard that the bones crunched as it squeezed.  “Come along into the church, George,” the glowing bride whispered.  Through the veil, George could see maggots crawling in and out of Polly’s flaming eye sockets.

“Nooo!  Polly, no!”  George screamed in terror, but he could not wrench his hand free.  The ghost dragged him step by halting step toward the front door of the church.  His hand was a red-hot agony of pain, though the rest of his body was shaking with cold.

“No!” George gave a final cry of despair and wrenched again at his hand.  And suddenly, he was free.  The spectral bride gave a roar of rage as George ran pell-mell down the church lane and out into the street.

“You’re mine, George Dean!  If not in this world, than in the next,” the spectral bride howled after him.

By the time George reached his room, the fiery pain in his hand and arm was seeping through his entire body.  He rang desperately for the house maid and begged her to send for a doctor.  Then he fell into bed and stared at his hand, which was black and withered, as if it had been scorched long ago by a fire.  Black and red streaks were climbing up his arm so fast he could almost see them move.

George was unconscious when the doctor arrived, and the swelling was already extending into his chest and neck.  There was nothing the physician could do.  The injury was too severe and had spread too far.  Within two days, George was dead.   Polly had gotten her man at last.

Spooky North Carolina: Tales of Hauntings, Strange Happenings, and Other Local Lore, retold by S.E. Schlosser.

Review: The Web ~ Richard Stephans

Ute was dead! The police asked if she had any problems – if she was depressed. They said her death looked like an accident but it could also be suicide. Her friends couldn’t believe it. They knew Ute. Suicide was impossible – it had to be an accident! It was two years ago that the four of them had first met at the NPD meetings, a right-wing extremist political party in Munich where they had quickly become good friends. Ute was the expert on the violence of the right-wing extremists. Her brother had been an active part of the skinhead violence against foreigners and asylum seekers and was now in prison. She understood the dark side of the NPD. Anya was the intellectual – the historian. She knew about the past – the legacy of the right-wing extremists and she understood their push for power. Anya, Ute and their two friends had joined the NPD out of curiosity and were now trapped in a dangerous web of extremism where hate, racism and lies were the strands that held it together and gave it strength. Could they escape? And what about Ute? Anya said she had a secret that no one knew about – and now she was dead! Was it really an accident – or was it suicide? “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” George Santayana

This is a great little novella and, at 94 pages, can easily devoured in one sitting.  Also surprisingly for a short read it is available in both e-book and paperback format.

Unlike many Authors of novellas, this one doesn’t try to pack as much as possible into as few pages as they can; this Author gets right to the point of the novella and sticks with it through to the end. There is no unnecessary fluff or frills, no padding out to make situations more interesting than they really are; this is a gritty, ‘pulls no punches’ in your face tale about thinking for ourselves and creating our own views on the world by understanding how history has formed and shaped the one we now live in.

There are no characters that we need to have an opinion on, even though the book contains people who propel the storyline along.  These characters are not here to win our approval or dislike, they are included to help the reader learn more about the subject matter and deliver the underlying message contained within the lines; the message is we cannot just be followers we often have to take the lead.

The novella is very politically charged and, setting it in Munich Germany, was a very shrewd move on the part of the writer.  In this location, where the dangers of right-wing extremism are still very much alive in memories, the Author takes the reader on a journey that deals with some very contemporary and global issues such as racism, nationalism and immigration.  To add another layer to the plot we also have a murder mystery but, for those who are not a lover of this genre, it very much takes a back seat to the political aspect of the novella.

The book is very well written, proof read and edited with no apparent errors that I could see, and it was a very satisfying way to spend a few hours after Sunday lunch with a glass of wine.  I would highly recommend this short to lover of political writings and also those who enjoy reading philosophy.  I will definitely be reading some more by this Author.