Chapter One, Episode 95 - Role Playing - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

On my first read through of the first draft of Role Playing I didn't recognize much that needed any adjustment. Unfortunately my track record as a human being has verified that I am not perfect, so I read the first draft through again and started to pick up little places where continuity was off just a bit and others that needed more context to the setting of the scene. 

An aside, I recall in a previous review mentioning that two of my favourite characters are Samuel and Elizabeth. They are running neck and neck with James and Martha as two of my favourite characters. But then none of it is a race, is it.

Role Playing

No one noticed. Everyone was busy with their own lives. Very slowly, two little homes were emptied, ‘without much fuss or bother’ in Martha’s words. The couple walked through each of their homes together, choosing the pieces they would like to keep and those that were to be discarded. It hadn’t been easy for either of them. James had lived in his family home all his life. Martha had lived in her home since she purchased the duplex twenty years previously. One evening, having just finished supper at Martha’s home, they had unknowingly slipped into their work roles, discussing their new home as if it belonged to someone else. Martha picked up their plates and took them to the sink. James picked up the serving dishes and prepared to put the left over food away. He stood still, holding a half empty bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and a little dish of pickles in the other. “Martha, where are your storage containers?” Busying herself getting pie from the refrigerator, dessert plates and ice cream, she gestured with a curt glance: “Just there, James, in the cupboard right in front of you.” The tone of their limited conversation was abrupt and stilted. A quiet meal after a long day, it was also fraught with tension. “Would you like some pie, James? It’s rhubarb. There’s ice cream if you’d like it.”  Martha leaned in towards the counter, the rhubarb pie waiting to be cut. James reply was curt but polite. “Yes I would, please. With some ice cream.”

Martha, previously married, had learned a thing or two about being married: patience and tolerance. Neither of which she was very good at except at work. James, a very patient man, had never been married, although he had had past relationships. One of them had lasted at least two years. Martha was fuming. He cares nothing about how I feel. He just goes along without a care. Martha felt like throwing everything out. But that was childish. James was stubborn. Martha knew that. She’d worked with the man for longer than she’d lived in the duplex she shared with her daughter. This was different though. This stubbornness was different. It was personal. 

Martha sighed. Her eyes felt wet. She plated each of them a generous slice of rhubarb pie with a small scoop of ice cream for her and a larger one for James. With another little sigh, she thought He does love his ice cream. Steeling herself, she picked up both plates, turned away from the cupboard and.....James was standing right behind her. He took both plates and set them on the table. Martha followed him silently, but when she was seated she just looked at her pie. Her mother's recipe. Martha took the plunge and said  “James, this is just silly. The two of us hovering over our things like…..like……two children in a playground fighting over toys. I’m not interested in getting married to you or anyone that won’t have the decency to listen.” Abruptly leaving the table, her pie untouched, ice cream pooling around it, she returned to the sink. Martha’s voice was trembling, her eyes brimming with tears. At the sink, she turned the hot water on full and poured in a bigger dollop of soap than usual. Plunging the plates and cutlery into the scalding water, she almost burned her hands. Martha put her hands on the edge of the counter, leaned forward and hung her head. She heard the clink of a fork against china and the soft fold of a napkin. James voice was quiet. “Would you like me to leave? Thank you for supper, Martha. I’ll just get my sweater.”

In another burst of anger, Martha's thoughts flamed. There he goes again. Walking away. Not even trying to hear me. Martha had learned long ago to keep silent her ranting brain. Instead, her voice tight, she said “James, I do not want you to leave. I just want you to listen.” Martha turned towards him, wiping her eyes on the edge of her apron. “Would you please stop being a butler? Organizing and running everything, expecting me to just go along with you. Telling me to leave my pots and pans behind. Some of these were my mother’s. And my easy chair. I bought that after saving money for ten years….I could go on, but if I were just to bow down to your Lordship - I’m sorry James, that wasn’t fair - if I were to just let you decide for me, it would not be our home. It would be your home. I would only be living there as an invited guest. An invitation I won't accept.” Martha felt drained. She sat down again, and picking up her fork, broke the crust on her pie and took a small bite.

James, sitting at the end of the table, felt ashamed but didn’t know why he should feel ashamed. He thought he was only being logical. His cookware was newer. Martha’s easy chair was ….it was…not the right style? He wasn’t sure. “Martha, I don’t know what to do? I’m just trying to arrange things logically so that our home…. and it is to be our home ….. is comfortable for both of us.”

“But isn’t that it James?” Martha moved her chair closer to the  corner of the table, took James’ hands in hers and looked at him tenderly. “You’ve been trying to arrange things. I said you were ‘being a butler’. Well, I have to confess that I was being a housekeeper, just as I have for these many years, James. Always following your lead for the good of Miss Emelina’s household. I’m sorry. This arranging is about the good of our home.”

~~~~~

For the rest of the evening, James and Martha listened to each other. The tension slowly melted away. It wasn't easy to change the comfortable habits of two lifetimes. To realize that they would be a couple every day, not just in momentary spells in the bump and grind of a workday. “James, do you know what my little grandson says when he sees me looking worried: “Chill, Grandma”. So, Martha did decide that keeping the newer cookware was wise, as James actually did more cooking than she did. Her daughter, Joanie, had always wanted her grandmother’s pots and pans. Martha did keep one small pot that was special to her. She made her first vanilla pudding in it. For James, his view of Martha's things was awkward. He did see how Martha's chair was a part of her - not just a piece of furniture that had to match. Once he did that he was able to see all of her things in that light. As they went through their homes, they each examined their things with much different vision. No longer was it as Butler and Housekeeper but as James and Martha.

“one should know what one’s role is.”

~ Aporva Kala,  Alchemist of the East

Chapter One, Episode 94 - Grass Stains - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update:

This pleasing episode (Grass Stains) only required a modest amount of revision. Specifically, I chose word crafting additions for setting the scenes for dialogue. Short and sweet!

Grass Stains

“Are you sure you don’t have any older clothes to wear?” To be honest, Dez was a bit jealous of Emmie’s wardrobe. All her own clothes were either past their 'best by' date, or were covered in paint splashes. Her t-shirts had tell-tale grease spots front and centre. It was well past time to go shopping. Then her sister comes into the kitchen all polished and shining. She was prepared to shrink inside, but had been distracted by the passing tenderness between Samuel and Cook as Samuel was on his way out the door. Dez quoted Samuel to Emmie: “Those jeans will get ‘all tore up’, not to mention the grass stains you'll get on your knees.”

“Why would I get grass stains on my knees? We can just get a stick to go through the grass and weeds to find any - what are they - spigots, sprayers?” Emmie truly was curious. 

“Oh Emmie. You really don’t know what we have to do and how, do you?” Dez was continually surprised by her sister's lack of knowledge of outside work. “Matt said we’d probably have to replace it all anyway. We do have to find it first so we know what's there. All of it is likely too old and may have just deteriorated over the years. We don’t even know how old it is.” Dez almost felt a little sad for Emmie. Her life must have been very sheltered all these years. 

“I know what you’re thinking Dez.” Emmie face was set except for a little wobble of her chin. She looked up into the leaves above her head, as she touched away a tear. She was suddenly excited. “Oh look! There are a few tiny little apples!”

Dez stayed on task, interested in the tiny apples, but she would look later. Right now they had a job to do. “Let’s just see what’s here, then pace it off till we find another spray head. We’ll have to find some way of marking them off. I’m just going over to the toolshed to see if there’s any kind of pegs in there.” Times like these were when both of the women forgot their supposed maturity and slipped back into youthful insecurities - Emmie pointing out the pretty distractions like tiny apples; Dez gruffly trying to distract Emmie to get her back to reality.

While Dez was gone, Emmie leaned her back against the nearest tree. “Can I really do this? This being responsible for it all?” She stood, turned and spoke directly to the apple tree. “Yes I can. I can take care of you. I can take care of your home and everyone that lives in and around it.”

“What did you say, Emmie?” Dez was certain she heard Emmie talking when she returned with a handful of old tent pegs.”

“Oh, nothing important. I was just talking to the trees telling them how beautiful they are. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Talk to your plants and your trees.” Emmie’s voice sounded a bit too bright, but her eyes were dry. 

“That’s what they say.” Dez hadn't really been listening and carried on about her findings. “Here's some old tent pegs. I’ll get some bright orange paint and touch up their tops so we can see them easily. Now, where’s that first spray head. I’m going to guess the next one wouldn’t be any more than a foot or 14 inches away.” Dez had done some irrigation research online to find out how far apart the spigots were placed. To her untrained eye, a foot looked like too close together. She'd ask Matt about that. Emmie decided to get involved and measured off what she thought would be about 14 inches, knelt down in the grass and with her bare hands pulled grass and weeds away from the next spray head. “Dez, bring me a tent peg and look at this. There’s an old plastic tag on this one. I can barely make out the words on it but it might be the company that set this up.” Sitting down in the grass, she was excited. Then, trying to jump up, she sat back with a thump. “Dez” Dez wasn't paying attention to anything but finding the next spray head. A little sharply, Emmie called again “Dez! Can you help me up?”

Dez looked over where Emmie was sitting, and from where she was working, just steps away, reached out her hand to her sister. She slipped on the wet grass, lost her balance and landed quite unceremoniously on the ground beside Emmie, barely missing the spray head. The two women looked at each other for a moment. Emmie put the back of her hand over her mouth. “I’m not laughing. Really.” Then burst out laughing anyway.

Dez put her head down into the wet grass. Emmie couldn’t tell if her sister was laughing or crying. Dez rolled over on her back, laughing. Tears trickled down from the corners of her eyes.

“What do you think Samuel would say if he saw us like this?” Dez barely got it out when a gruff old voice said “I thought you two was grown women. Come on now, get up offn’ that wet ground.” Samuel extended a hand to each of them. “Think it’s time for Elizabeth's good tea and some dry clothes.”

“Thanks Samuel. You go on up to the house and we’ll be along in a minute.” Emmie brushed stray weeds and grass from her shirt and jeans. “I’ve been christened Dez! Look! I’ve got grass stains on my jeans and my shirt. These are now officially my orchard gardening clothes.” She looked past the trees at Samuel striding up to the house. “Don’t you think we should give Samuel and Cook a minute or two before we go up there?”

“Nothing ever becomes real ’til it is experienced.”

~ John Keats

Chapter One, Episode 93 - Secret Love - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
This episode was a joy to work with. I particularly am fond of Samuel and Elizabeth. Not only do I like these characters, but it didn't seem like there were many revisions to make, although there was an addition of over 400 words. Specifically, as I have done previously, I added more content that supports dialogue and that better sets the scene. I didn't notice any timing issues.

Secret Love

Samuel brushed the dirt from his hands, letting it fall on the ground between the rows he had just weeded. On the way to his little house, he kicked a few small clods of dirt from his boots. At the sink in his house, he pumped water into his basin. He could have used the tap, but kept the old hand pump in use because, according to him, it worked better. He scrubbed his hands clean. When he went up to the house for his morning coffee, he saw two cars parked at the back porch. One was Elizabeth’s. The other was familiar but he didn’t know who it belonged to. Quietly he opened the screen door and as quietly opened the inner door. There were two voices in the kitchen. He hesitated, listening for a bit so he knew who was there. Sometimes it was only Elizabeth talking to herself or she may have a radio playing. But the presence of the other car made him cautious. He needed to know what he was walking into.

“Samuel, get in here. You don’t need to lurk out there in the mudroom listening to us. It’s just me and Miss Dez.” Elizabeth always knew when he was there, no matter how quiet he had been. Samuel shook his head. How does she always know? “I’m coming Elizabeth. Just wanted to take my boots off.”

“If you say so, Samuel. You haven’t eaten a thing yet, have you?” Cook made certain everyone ate well. Even if they had, she always made sure they had more. Keeping a close eye on Samuel she always made sure he had decent meals. “I had one o’them biscuits with that blackberry jam you gave me the other day.” While the Covid19 virus had isolated Elizabeth away from her kitchen for a time, Samuel had to eat his own cooking. His menu was limited to his collection of canned foods in his one cupboard. Tomato soups, beans and grilled cheese sandwiches, each of them rotated. He was pretty happy when she was back at her stove. 

Elizabeth's softly stern voice kept up “I’ll tell you like I told Miss Dez. If you’re going to be working out in the yard all morning - and it'll be a warm one - then you need more than a biscuit with a bit of jam. You’re skinny enough as it is. I’ve already got your plate of bacon and eggs ready.”

“And some hash browns, Samuel.” Dez had stopped eating while she listened in amusement to the two banter back and forth like an old married couple. “You’d better get in here. Cook’s pretty feisty this morning.”

Samuel shook his head. “She’s pretty feisty most mornin’s, Mz. Dez. Everybody thinks it’s Digby runs this place, but if Elizabeth walked out that door today, Mz. Beaufort wouldn’t know what to do.” That was a pretty long speech from a man who only talked that much when he was telling a story. 

“Did you wash your hands?” Cook glanced at Samuel’s hands from where she stood at the stove. Samuel held out his hands to her, turning them twice from calloused palm to gnarled and tanned back. He looked over at Dez “See what I told you? Like I was six years old and didn’t know any better.” Elizabeth smiled, her back to her tormentors. She served up her own plate of food, picked up her nearly empty mug and sat down by Samuel. She drank up the last of her coffee. Dez had gotten up from the table to take her dishes to the dishwasher. Elizabeth raised her empty cup to her. “Miss Dez, honey, when you put those dishes down, would you get me some fresh coffee. Seems this mug is empty.” Dez smiled, set her dishes down by the dishwasher and got Cook's coffee. 

~~~~~

“Do I smell bacon and eggs?” Emmie came into the kitchen from the upstairs. “Good morning, you three.” Clean and polished, she was dressed as though she had an appointment in town. Dez set the coffee pot back down on the warming pad. “Are you ready for coffee, Emmie and where are you going this morning?” Dez looked a little worried. In the orchard, they had planned to search for any previous irrigation system. Emmie looked surprised at Dez's worried face. “Out to the orchard with you to find that irrigation system, if there is one.” Now Dez was really curious. “Why are you all dressed up if you’re working with me in the orchard?” Emmie wore a fairly new looking pair of light blue denim jeans and a short sleeved shirt that looked freshly starched. Her only jewelry was a pair of gold ear studs, very understated for Emmie. A pair of well used sneakers were on her feet, all of that Emmie’s attempt to get ready for manual labour. “I’m not dressed up - at least I didn’t think so. If I was dressed up, I be wearing my good clothes. I didn't see any reason to tear them up just to work outside.”

“Well Mz.Beaufort, if those duds are not tore up now, they soon will be.” Samuel scraped his plate clean, getting the last bits of eggs, bacon and potatoes. Emmie laughed a little uncomfortably. “You’re right Samuel. I guess then I’ll look like a proper hardworking orchardist, instead of a society woman playing ‘just pretend’. 

Cook waved her hand towards Samuel and Dez. “Don’t you listen to these two, Miss Emmie. Just get yourself some breakfast and sit over here across from your sister. She doesn’t have any room to fuss at you. She tried to get away with a banana and chocolate cake for breakfast, but I gave her a decent working breakfast.” Cook grinned at the two women.

Samuel finished up his coffee, took his dishes over to the sink. He was getting restless. “I better get goin’, Elizabeth. Too many women in here for my likin'. Me with no back up. I thank you for breakfast.” If they had been alone, Samuel would have given Elizabeth a peck on the cheek, but as it was he just patted her on the shoulder as he made his escape. Elizabeth reached up her hand and brushed his fingers. “Come up for tea later, Samuel.”

Samuel disappeared out the back door in an instant. Dez and Emmie exchanged glances at the barely noticeable exchange. Emmie kicked Dez under the table. “Ouch” whispered Dez. Louder she said “As soon as you’re finished your breakfast, let’s get out to the orchard. Samuel may be able to help us out.”

“There is a name hidden in the shadow of my soul 

where I read it night and day and no other eye sees it.”

~ Alphonse De Lamartine, 

Fr. writer, poet, and politician  (1790-1869)

Chapter One, Episode 92 - Heart Felt - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update:
Most of this revision included shifting words around as well setting this early morning scene in the kitchen. The second part of this Episode, a setting for Samuel, did not seem to require anything. 

When doing these reviews, I begin by reading it aloud, including reading my Review section once written. If I'm not able to read a sentence easily, it red flags that a some kind of a change is needed. Often I am staring out the window, or getting up and doing something else, until I find the right words to add or delete. Once the change has been made, I read that aloud, and if it's still not right.....well it's back to staring out the window or making a cup of coffee. This morning I had to eat a saskatoon tart! These are the foibles of my writing life. 

Heart Felt

Maybe she’d just never had the chance. Dez woke up to that thought. There was no dream attached to it, only her sister’s name. She rolled over, covering her eyes with her pillow. In the city, the sun was shaded from her bedroom window by other high-rises. Out here at the estate, Dez had slept in Emmie’s east facing bedroom. Each golden ray of the sun filtered through brush and grass crowning a low rocky outcropping. Hours before, the birds had began their waking chirps. Dez had heard them faintly and managed to get back to sleep. It really was all very comforting. Estranged from Emmie for ten years, she never really thought about whether she had nieces or nephews. After Emmie’s concern about whether Joey got home safely the evening before, and seeing the troubled look on Emmie’s face, Dez was curious. It’s none of my business. If she wants to talk about it, she will.

Dez was not an early riser unless she had an early appointment or had much earlier day shift scheduled. She was on the estate for the weekend, but not just for some time off. Her friend, Matt Hamilton, an orchardist and bee keeper, had given her an assignment. She opened her eyes, tossed back her covers and sat slowly up on the edge of the bed. She sniffed the air. Cook mustn’t be here yet. I can’t smell any coffee. Dez pushed herself up to standing and dragged on her housecoat. Sliding her feet into her slippers as she walked away from the bed, she quietly opened her door. Not hearing Emmie stirring, she tiptoed carefully to the stairs that lead to the kitchen. As soon as she was downstairs, Dez went straight to the coffee machine. She checked to be sure the reservoirs were topped up with coffee grounds and water. From the cupboard above, she randomly chose from a set of rippled pottery mugs, all in shades of light blue. She set the mug under the coffee spout,  pushed all the right buttons and waited for her mug to fill with dark, rich coffee. Brushing her hair back and snugging her housecoat around her, she went to the refrigerator. Nothing much to snack on but two pieces of chocolate cake. That’s a good breakfast food. Cook makes a nutritious chocolate cake. She pulled it out and put one of the pieces on a plate. The coffee was ready. There were bananas on the table. Coffee, chocolate cake and a banana. Good breakfast. Dez was about to sit down when Cook came in the kitchen door.

Cook liked to start her morning organized. Everything in its place before she got busy with the days work. So, she was surprised when she came in the back door to the aroma of coffee and someone stirring around in her kitchen. That someone was Miss Dez and still in her pyjamas. She liked Miss Dez, but coming downstairs in pyjamas when anyone could come in door! But Cook knew how to think on her feet. “Good mornin’ Miss Dez. What on earth have you got there?” Cook had eyed Dez's so-called breakfast with amusement. Dez grinned, almost a bit embarrassed to have been caught but said “Good morning Cook! It’s my breakfast.” Dez, to hide her tiny bit of discomfort, took a sip of her coffee. Cook slid the plate away before Dez had a chance to sample her 'breakfast'. She gave Dez back the banana and said “You go ahead and eat that banana but I’m taking that cake. Just let me get my sweater off and put my purse away. You take your coffee upstairs and get dressed while I make you some bacon and eggs.” Cook covered the cake and set it aside. She hung her sweater on a hook and put her purse in a cupboard above the refrigerator. Dez felt like she was about ten years old and given her marching orders. “Can I have the cake after the bacon and eggs?” Without hesitation, Cook replied “Yes, but if you’re going to be working out in the orchard all morning you need more than cake and a banana. Off with you now and let me get cooking.” Dez also felt comforted by the motherly attention from Cook. “Thanks Cook.” Dez gave her a quick hug, picked up her coffee and went upstairs.

~~~~~

Samuel liked getting out in his garden early in the morning. His cottage, on the other side of the creek that flowed behind the orchard, was merely shelter for him. Two rooms and a loft. He had little furniture. The loft held his cot and a book shelf over flowing with books. Downstairs there was a small fireplace that he only used in the winter. An old floor lamp stood behind his easy chair. A kitchen table and chairs filled the space behind his chair. A small refrigerator, a gas stove and a small counter space completed the first room. The second room was not really a room, but his washroom. He took his laundry up to Elizabeth every two weeks. Samuel knew Cook as Elizabeth. No one really knew what their relationship was, only that they took care of each other in their distant ways.

Samuel got up with the birds, washed up, had a cup of tea and went out to the garden. He especially loved the mornings when there was still a mist drifting along the ground, flowing over rocks and around trees. It was a cold damp, but it was beautiful. If he had had a son, he would have had him out of bed and with him on those mornings. This morning he thought of the young man that he met yesterday. Nice young fella. Polite. Respectful. There hadn’t been any children on the estate for a very long time, except for Martha’s grandchildren once in a while. Samuel got down at the row of bean plants he had been weeding the day before to continue where he left off. Elizabeth would give him fits if he didn’t wash his hands before he went up for coffee, but he wanted to get that part of the garden done. I wonder if Mz. Beaufort realizes how much food this garden produces every year. Could be, now that she’s woke to her life, she’ll figger it out. Samuel sat back on his heels, spotted a thistle sprouted a couple of rows over. I’ll get that before I wash up. He stood, stretched his back and went into the toolshed for a small spade. Thistles and their tap roots need a spade. The thought of teaching Joey about the garden, plants and seeds made him smile. Might give him his own space in here. Samuel checked the sun. Looking over at the house, he saw Elizabeth’s car. Better go wash up.

“Being is the great explainer”

~ Henry David Thoreau

Chapter One, Episode 91 - Hometime - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

This episode required wording additions, as opposed to wording changes, to maintain timelines and set scenes more firmly. It didn't seem as disjointed as some previous posts. Dialogue, as I have previously written it, is not strong enough to stand on its own.

Hometime

The crunch of popcorn broke the silence. Emmie and Dez were entranced by their movie. When Dez absently scrabbled around the bottom of the bowl, and without taking her focus from the screen she said. “We're running out of popcorn. Do you think we should make more?”

Emmie was already getting up from her cozy chair. “I don't know about you, but I need a bathroom break. Dez, go ahead and make more popcorn. I’ll come down in a minute and make some tea. Want some?”

Emmie, in control of the remote, paused the movie.  Dez blinked awake and replied “No thanks, I’ll get a Coke from the fridge. And some ice cream. Do you think Joey got home ok? It’s a five mile ride and it’s pretty cloudy out there. I hope it didn’t start to rain until he got home.” She stood up, picked up the popcorn bowl that rattled with 'old maids'. She called out to her sister without expecting an answer “Emmie, why are unpopped kernels called 'old maids'? Dad always called them that and mom didn't like it when he did. I'll have to look it up.” Emmie, out of earshot, was already down the hall. Dez took the empty bowl and their glasses to the kitchen. Plugging in the popcorn maker, she poured fresh kernels into the hopper and turned it on. While it was popping the next round of popcorn, Dez melted butter at the stove, and put the kettle on for Emmie who was just coming downstairs. “Thanks Dez. Here's your Coke.” Emmie had gone to the refrigerator and besides getting out the coke, opened the freezer to get the ice cream. Popcorn popped and butter melted, ice cream scooped into bowls, fresh napkins, and spoons. Opening cupboard doors, she asked her sister “Emmie, does Cook keep any trays in the kitchen somewhere? Never mind, I found one.” In a bottom cupboard, there were several wooden or aluminum trays. Choosing a sturdy wooden one, she loaded it with their new supply of snacks. “Bring your tea, Emmie. I couldn't fit it on the tray. Time to put the movie back on.”

Water boiled, Emmie made a small pot of tea and rinsed out her tea mug with the boiling water. Picking it up, she said to Dez “Wait til I get there. I’m right behind you. As far as Joey's concerned, I’m sure he's alright. Do you think we should have asked him to text one of us when he got home?” Emmie wasn’t sure that it was in her place to ask that of Joey. He was her employee so that may be a bit too intrusive.

 Dez considered Emmie's question “I don’t think so, Emmie. We hardly know him. He already has parents and doesn’t need any more. Especially two women that have never been parents before. Let’s just watch the rest of the movie.” Dez glanced over at Emmie. She’d never seen this almost maternal side of her sister before. Maybe she’d never had the chance.

~~~~

Joey did get home before six, but just barely. He rode like the wind trying to stay ahead of the rain. He loved riding. The power of his legs, the wind on his face, speeding past cattle grazing in the fields. There were times when he had been caught in a downpour, but even then loved the drenching rain soaking him. But tonight, he had managed to stay ahead of the rain. He had no time to stop and check the blackberries growing all along the roadside. Later on in the summer, he and his mother would go berry picking. He skidded into the Tucker driveway just as his father came out the front door. “Your mother sent me out here to see if you were here yet and here you are. You made it just by the skin of your teeth, son.”

“Dad, you’ll never believe what happened. There’s a ghost out at Beaufort's that has a crush on me and I can plant a garden after I’m done working.”

“Slow down, Joey. You’re not twelve anymore, you’re sixteen. What are you talking about and don’t you dare tell your mother about any ghost.” Mr. Tucker, not a tall man, was in casual slacks and open necked shirt. Working at home, he hadn’t had to put on a suit and tie for months and didn’t miss it. He took the pipe out of his mouth and tapped it into the planter by the front door. He knew how much his wife worried about their only child, often in stepping in between them. He sometimes wondered whether this was a bad idea, but continued to do it. “Now, Joey. What’s this about a ghost and a garden?”

Joey pulled a towel out of his bike’s saddle bags. He wiped the inside of his helmet, his face and the back of his neck. “Sorry dad, I guess I haven’t come down from my bike ride.” Joey let out a big breath of air, leaned up against the porch railing and tipped his head back. “The ghost, her name is Sarah. I don’t know much about her - where she came from, who she is…………this sounds like I’ve lost it. Where is mom? I shouldn't even be talking about Sarah before I know where mom is. The garden is real though and I'll have my own little plot of land to work. The gardener - I think he takes care of all the yard work - is a pretty interesting old guy. Looks like he’s been out in the sun all his life. The dirt under his fingernails is probably older than he is.”

“How old is this gentleman?” Clayton Tucker was amused. Amused and interested. He hadn’t seen his son so animated in a very long time. The pandemic restrictions had been hard on him and his friends. Even when they did see each other, it was Steven who lived one driveway over. The two of them would set up on their driveways and jam. He often wanted to join them, but hadn't played his trumpet for years. Besides Joey's guitar and his computer, there had been little to give him any joy this summer. His son loved learning. The interactions in the classroom, the question and debate had been missing from his life. Having a garden to work and, if the rumours were true that there was a ghost out at the Beaufort Estate, he didn’t care as long as Joey had found something to excite him. 

“I don’t know how old Samuel is, dad.” Joey saw his dad frown, so he quickly explained. “I just know that I wouldn’t dare ask, just like I won't call him Mr. Forrester. The first time I met him, I called him Mr Forrester. He only wants to be called by his first name - Samuel. He’s a really great guy and told me all about the little garden plot I’ll be looking after. Apparently, Mrs. Beaufort had some kind of plans for it but then didn’t do anything but plant some potatoes and some other seeds or bedding plants. I heard her talking to Cook about the garden. I had seen it out the window of the room I was working in and wondered about it. I didn’t know if I should ask her about it, but I did. She walked out to the garden with me and re-introduced me to Samuel. I carried a basket of food out to him - it was his lunch. Cook put a big piece of chocolate cake in the basket for me. I guess I’m kind of going around in circles, dad. But I really had a good day and a great ride home.”

“Come on in the house, son. Supper’s ready. Your mother won’t stop worrying until she sees you and knows you’re all right.” Clamping the pipe between his teeth, he opened the door for his son. Joey called out “Mother, I’m home!”

“Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family.”

~ Paul Pearsall

Chapter One, Episode 90 - Respect - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update
When I am reviewing any episode, my revisions are often preceded by a question about the reason for certain statements or sentences. For example: "Always dressed casually, this time Dez was dressed specifically in casual gardening clothes." This posed the question:  What is the difference between the underlined words? I was unable to define my own words, so pulled the mother card and replaced them with "Always dressed casually Dez often looked 'put together' as their mother would say. She still looked 'put together', but this time ready for hard work rather than going to out to lunch. Timing is another issue that I've gleaned from this episode - Joey and Samuel were having lunch, and, what seemed only a few minutes later, Dez and Emmie were talking about the immediacy of supper. I worked at balancing that issue. 

Respect

Emmie stopped for a moment on her way back to the Estate house to glance back to the two men, both her employees. Joey Tucker, young and just beginning to experience his life outside of home and Samuel Forrester, who had seen many decades of life and land. Joey, house cleaner for the upstairs at the house,  seemed eager to learn about life outside of home or school. His interest in the garden had been a pleasant surprise for Emmie. In that light, Samuel was probably the best teacher for education on the land. He did have a lot of stories to tell from his years, but the real education for his student was to learn by doing. Samuel would often said that he had to get back to work. At least that’s always what he said when it was time for his student to engage in his education. To begin with, Joey just thought he was going to grow some vegetables for his mother. He didn’t know that he would learn much more than how to plant, weed and harvest. Listening to Samuel intrigued him. He talked about the soil. The colour to be seen, the deep aroma when the soil is turned and the moisture to be felt as the soil spills between loose fingers. Joey had only ever thought of the plants and whether they had produced a lot of vegetables, not why.

A car pulling up to the back of the house, dragged Emmie's attention away from the scene at the garden. Her sister, Dez, had made a surprise visit. From the back seat she took an obviously well packed back pack. Dez shouldered her back pack and turned and waved to Emmie. Always dressed casually Dez often looked 'put together' as their mother would say. She still looked 'put together', but this time ready for hard work rather than going to out to lunch. From the trunk of the car, she took out a pair of rubber boots and leather gloves. Emmie approached the car “Dez, you look like you have a plan to get some serious work done. Are you staying the night?”

As Emmie approached, Dez, weighed down by all that she brought with her, adamantly said “No, sister dear. I’m here for the weekend. Matt has given me an orchard assignment.” Matt Hamilton, a friend, orchardist and beekeeper, would be helping Dez with her projects. "He'll be out on Sunday to see my progress. You and I have managed to mow down the grass between the trees, but now I have to find the irrigation system, if there is one. Do you suppose Samuel will be around on the weekend? He may know something about that.”

Emmie ran ahead of Dez to the back door. Opening it open for her, she replied “Dez, Samuel is here right now if you want to see him tonight. He’s out there with Joey Tucker, the new cleaner. Joey’s going to be taking care of that little garden plot I had Samuel dig up for me. I’m just not taking care of it. Joey heard me talking to Cook about it this afternoon and asked if he could take it over.”

“Is that Joey's bike?” Dez pointed to the slimline bike leaning up against the back porch. “It looks like a good one. I hope he locks it up when he’s in the city.”

Emmie nodded. “Yes it is. I'm sure he must take good care of it - it looks fairly expensive. He must have worked a lot of odd jobs to buy it and keep it in such good shape. His parents may have helped him buy it. Anyway, he’s out there with Samuel. The two of them seem to be getting along just fine.” Emmie followed Dez into the house. “Did you have anything to eat before you came out?”

Dez, put her gloves inside one boot and set her boots in the boot rack. Straightening up, she smiled “Only a snack. It's still to early for me to think about supper. I'll be hungry for supper when it's time. Cook has given me permission - actually almost an order - that when I come out and a meal is not too far off, I’m to come hungry. I can’t argue with that logic. But, has Cook started anything yet? If she hasn't, I have a suggestion for supper.” Dez put her backpack at the foot of the stairs. "Cook's already cooked up a pot of beef stew and has left for the day. She left me in charge of the stew on the stove. Her instructions: 'I've left I on low but be sure you don't let it burn and there's fresh scones on the table'." The sisters both laughed. Dez was relieved. Pizza or Cook's stew? There was no contest. "I guess all we'll need to do is set the table and eat when it's time."

"Dez, why don't you take your things upstairs and get settled in my old room? I've still got a few things to go over with Digby." Emmie was still trying to get a sense of the costs for the Estate. "He'll be done for the day shortly, so now's a good time for a short talk."

~~~~~

An hour later, Emmie and Digby's came out of his office. Digby, ready to call it a day and Emmie looking forward to the evening with her sister. Dez was already downstairs, had set the table and was going over the material Matt had given her. What to look for? Where the irrigation system might be? She looked up when she heard Emmie and Digby. Digby greeted Dez as he passed through the kitchen "Hello, Miss Dez. You two ladies have a good evening." 

Just as Digby left, Joey poked his head in the door. “I’m on my way now, Mrs. Beaufort. Hi Dez. Is Cook still here?” Emmie was pleased that he was letting her know that he was leaving. “Thanks for letting me know, Joey. Cook is gone for the day, but is there a message for her?” Emmie turned towards him from the stove where she was stirring the stew. “Just tell her that chocolate cake was the best and I didn’t share it with Samuel. I’ve got to get going or mom will be worried. I told her I’d be home by six and it’s already twenty after five. And thanks for the garden. Mom will be excited. Dad’s going to give me all kinds of gardening tips.” And Joey disappeared as fast as he had appeared, the door slamming as he left the house.

“Now there’s a respectful young man.” Dez was impressed. “Coming in to let you know he was leaving. Thanking you for the garden. Nice.”

Emmie brought the stew over to the table and handed a ladle to Dez. “He did have problems this morning with Sarah. It was really quite cute - at least to me. The poor kid was pretty upset. Almost ready to quit.” Emmie glanced up the stairs when she spoke.

“Really? What happened? Did she hurt him?” Dez was concerned. Her only experience with the Estate resident ghost was seeing her from a distance. Since then almost everyone had seen her at some time. Cook was the only one who hadn’t told her anything. “He didn’t look scared now, so he must have recovered.” Emmie laughed “It was probably the chocolate cake Cook put in Samuel's lunch basket.” She continued in amusement. “Our little ghost girl, Sarah didn’t hurt him. In fact, I think she has a crush on him and he doesn’t know what to do about it.” Emmie told Dez about what a pest Sarah was being and how frustrated Joey had been. From upstairs came the sound of furniture being moved.  Sarah must have been listening. Ignoring the noises from upstairs, Sarah asked Dez “Now, what was your idea?”

“I was going to suggest pizza, a movie and popcorn. But, we'll be replacing the pizza with the stew Cook left for you - and now me. After that, it’s still a movie and popcorn. I have to admit, Sarah being up there does make me a bit nervous. Is there a lock on the bedroom door - although I suppose ghosts don’t have problems with locks. How about A Beautiful Mind on Netflix?”

“When you are content to be simply yourself and don’t 

compare or compete, everyone will respect you.”

~ Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching