Jolted!

Evening Writer's Circle

Welcome, check in, 

meditation….

…….quiet. 

Heads down to computer screens or note pads, 

words and ideas floating and swirling from busy minds to fingertips. 

only the tap of computer keys punctuated the silence……………………..

BONG, BONG, BONG……FLASHING LIGHTS…..

heads snapped up!!……..

What’s that noise?!!!

It’s the fire alarm!!!!…..

Should we leave?!!……

computers, paper, pens disappeared into backpacks and cases,

jackets thrown on, we were led outside by our fearless leader, 

Writer in Residence Pam Bustin, to gather across the street.  

 

Sirens blared from two directions, 

Regina Fire Department was on the scene in minutes, 

from 3 or 4 firetrucks, heavily coated firemen strode into the building…..

.......still no smoke. 

Police on the scene spoke with those of us evacuated about our reasons for being in the library.

Shivering in the cold evening wind, rampant speculation spread about whether there was real fire, wanting someone to tell us what to do next, learning that indeed there had been a fire set in building, pointing up to the second floor. I’m sure details will be in the news at some point. Some of our group had already left for the evening. Just as the last of us were about to call it quits, Pam told us that we were released while the firemen were completed their inspection of the building. In agreement in the cold, we dispersed to home and hearth.

~~~~~

What was I writing on? A project about epilepsy management! The alarm had been right over my head! Thankfully, seizure activity for me has been stable for over 20 years but had it not, it could have been much worse. Has given me pause to think about where alarms are in buildings!

“A jolt activates the mind like nothing else.”

~ Haresh Sippy, author

Chapter One, Episode 146 - In a Whirl - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

When reviewing any episode, I look for any phrase or sentence that still has a stilted tone to them; too much telling about a picture rather than showing the reader the picture. True also for emotions, it is too easy for me to just say 'nervous' rather than the actions that show 'nervous' (i.e. tapping fingers, twirling a hank of hair, pulling on an earlobe). Of course the actions also need to fit the character's personality. The difficulty? It makes me stop and think! No headaches yet, but lots of looking up of words online or the old fashioned way - dictionary or thesaurus. (Online is easier). 

I reworked sentences in one or two places in this episode. All in all, a fairly good read.

In a Whirl

The feeling that home provided was indescribably comforting. Even if it had come in the form of her mother's cherished pieces of china or a quilt that her favourite aunt had made, or even her father's old tape measure. All these precious things were safe and treasured in her sister's little apartment. Emmie had let them all go. Glad that she had come to Dez’s apartment, she felt at home. 

~~~~~

But still, she could make no sense of it. Her mother had taken care of it all. Emmie and Michael had both been under legal age. In the 1960’s, legal charges could have been brought against Michael. Emmie could have been grounded for a very long time. Emmie pleaded with her mother. “I’ll find a doctor to take care of it, mom. Michael can get me the money. He’s going away to university and we’ll never see each other again. I don’t care about my life but you can’t ruin his!”  But by the time she had told her mother about the pregnancy, it was too late for any of these more drastic and dangerous solutions. In the end, her boyfriend was never told about the baby and she was shuttled away to her Aunt Leila’s on the mainland. Emmie had to go full term to deliver the baby. The baby was adopted. Emmie’s memories from that time were all in a jumble. She remembered her bitter sweet emotions when she walked past the nursery and saw all the babies. Did they all have parents? Was she really too young to be a mother? And now here she was. Confronted with all her old fears and turmoils. Dez watched as Emmie’s face went from worry to sadness and back to worry again. “Dez. What should I do? If she doesn’t have anyone like she says, where are they? Where is the family that adopted her? Didn’t they give her a loving home like mom told me they would? Raise her and make sure she had an education?” Emmie was so caught up in that unhappy and confusing part of her past that she had yet to realize that Carrie was a grown woman, possibly with children of her own somewhere. 

Dez stopped her before more unending questions poured out. “Let’s just take this one step at a time, little Em.” Dez used their father’s favourite name for his wayward daughter. “What happened then, happened. All of your life you’ve been avoiding this, haven’t you? I’ve watched you with Martha’s grandchildren. I’ve seen how you are with Joey. I’ve always wondered about that look you get of longing and tenderness when they are around. Now I think I know.”

Emmie’s phone jingled. She handed it to Dez and started into the kitchen. “Here Dez. You answer it. It’s Jeremy. I can’t talk to him right now.”

Dez gave Emmie a gentle nudge as she walked away. “Make some tea or something, Emmie”……“Jeremy? It’s Dez. Emmy says she can’t talk to you right now. Tell me something good, Jeremy. That this has all been a mistake and you’ve called to apologize to her for turning her world upside down.” 

Dez could hear Jeremy take a deep breath. “No Dez. It’s not a mistake. I’m about to get off shift, but I’m going in to see Mrs. Tyler before I leave. She’s much improved. I think she was seriously dehydrated when she came in and that made it look pretty bad for her. If she’s awake, what do I tell her? She did ask for Emelina before things went south on us.” Dez breathed out a heavy sigh. “Jeremy I don’t know, and Emmie doesn’t want to talk to you.” She hesitated. “Can you hang on for a minute? I’ll talk to her. If I’m not back in five minutes, hang up and I’ll call you back. Will you be in the hospital for a while?” 

~~~~~

Dez touched the hold button and set it down on the coffee table. She really didn’t want to get in the middle of this, but already was. Emmie came to her rescue when she needed her. Now it was her turn to rescue Emmie. “Emmie, Jeremy just wants you to know that Carrie is much better. He does want to know, if she wakes up and asks for you again, what to tell her. We can tell him that he should say he doesn’t know anything more. We can tell him to have a social worker deal with it all - and maybe we should anyway. We can tell him you’ve left the country.” Emmie could hear Dez talking but that wasn’t even making sense. “What? I should leave the country?” Dez was glad that she had finally gotten Emmie attention. “No, Emmie. I just said that to see if you were listening. Now, do you want to tell Jeremy anything?” The teakettle whistled, distracting them both. “I’ll make the tea. Tell Jeremy……tell Jeremy…..to contact the hospital social worker. They may already have done that.” Emmie, relying on her work in charities and at the shelter, knew that a social worker had to be called in. “That’s the way it needs to go. And tell Jeremy I want to see him. It doesn’t have to be today, but I need to talk to him. He wouldn’t know that Michael is the father, because they didn’t meet until they were both in university. That’s all I can think of right now. Can I sleep in your room, Dez?” Emmie left the tea steeping, touched Dez’s arm and walked absently into Dez’s bedroom. “I need to go to bed now.”

“Much unhappiness has come into the world 

because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.”

~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

Rising

Enthusiasm waxes and wanes

like a full, brilliant moon rising, fading into a blackened horizon until the sun beams through the darkest of clouds defining the misty shadows of the sky while sinking slowly into the next horizon creating confusion and then clarity

so that rest finally comes softly

to come awake again with each rising.

“….. just like the waltz, life has its own rhythm of rise and fall.”

~  Len Goodman,  British dancer

Author's note: Edited February 23, 2024

Apathetic or Not

I was going to write some little piece of poetry tonight. However after listening to CBC this afternoon and again this evening, I decided some opinion would suit. I am not of a political bent, but am interested in the political discussions that I hear on the media, on social network and of course in coffee shops. Mr. Trudeau, our Prime Minister, made announcements today that have rattled many, many groups and have pleased others. I listened to his presentation approving the Kinder Morgan Trans Mountain Pipeline, Line 3 pipeline and rejecting Northern Gateway pipelines. I read and heard some of the responses later. I heard rage, anger and immense disappointment on one side and careful optimism on the other side. My side? Confusion.

Not so much confusion that my day was upset and I hid in my bed. But enough so that I was troubled that I have taken no side, have no belief in which action of our government was right or wrong. I am confident, however, that the government made the most financially beneficial decision based on short term gain. 

I am not an activist and often feel guilty that I just can’t be that person. I really don’t want to be in the middle of all the noise and angst. Does that make me the person that sits back on the sidelines while others get their hands dirty? Am I the person that does not get angry or passionate about the big environmental issues that our country faces? And yet I don’t feel that I am apathetic either. I care about how things are done to save this planet. In my home, I take care of the little environmental issues in the amount of water I use, reducing use of disposables and many small things that we are all encouraged to do. What do each of us do that are not the 'real' activists?

My ideas and my chosen actions are relatively small in the grand scheme of things. However my belief in the greatness and value of the environment are the basis for these actions.

“This world is not here for you; you are here for it.”

~ Shannon L. Alder

Author's note: Edited February 01, 2024

The Incredible Bridge

The Incredible Bridge

A much sturdier bridge than the Incredible Bridge!

From this end of the bridge, it didn’t look so incredible. There was an ominous toll booth guarded by helmeted gargoyles. The closer Sam and Oliver came up to it, the more ominous it seemed. The gargoyles grumbled and growled to each other, shaking their spears and scraping the ground with their long toenails.

“Why are we going to that bridge?  Isn’t there a better one?” Sam was shrinking back into the dark forest filled with enchanted magic.

“This bridge is closest! And there’s only two gargoyles at this one. These two are puny compared to the other ones. Trust me - I’ve checked them all out.” Oliver pulled Sam forward.

Sam sputtered. “It’s only a rope bridge! Look at the chasm below! I can’t see the water but I can hear it crashing against the rocks.” 

“Look” Oliver sighed. “This was your idea and I just happened to agree with you. Have you ever been on one of these bridges before? No. I didn’t think so. I have. More times than I can count. But I’ve never made it across because I was trying to do it by myself.”

“Why have you kept trying?” Sam looked very puzzled. He had heard all the stories and had never dared ask why until now. If he was going to cross this so-called Incredible Bridge, he wanted some information.

Oliver leaned against an old burned tree stump and closed his eyes. Then, as one tear slid silently down his face he said “I have family on the other side that I just can’t let go of. No, I don’t want to let go of. I have torn up my life. I have wrecked many relationships. My children need me. Yes I have children and yes I love them with all my heart. But do they really love me? I’m so confused but I need to try again. I know I can go part way - and each time I’ve gone on the bridge I’ve gone a little farther. Maybe I can make it all the way this time. If you’re with me.”

Sam had nothing to say. He had no pre-conceived ideas about what he would find on the other side or even if he wanted to stay. The other side was a world he had let go of to set off adventuring in the Dark Forest they had just left behind. They had only the clothes on their backs, a loaf of old dry bread and a flask of water between them. They left all of the dark magic behind. The gargoyles would take their bread and water as a toll or make them make dark magic with them. This was a heavy toll either way. Oliver was determined to set foot on the bridge once more. Until Sam had suggested it, he had decided that he was stay in the Dark Forest forever. Sam was his only friend. 
Rather than be lost and alone, he decided to try again.

Taking deep breaths and pasting smiles on their faces, they approached the toll booth, determined to refuse any offers of magic play. After letting go of their bread, water - and Sam’s ragged coat - they stepped through the toll booth on to the Incredible Bridge. It swayed with the weight of their steps. The gargoyles giggled wickedly certain they would come racing back to the solid cliff. But Sam and Oliver kept moving forward. One step at a time. The Incredible Bridge held surprises. Along their slow trek, they met others who had crossed the bridge and came back to help others forward and to show them where the weak places were on their journey. To remind them of the strength that they had found to travel on this frighteningly Incredible Bridge. And to hold their hand when fear was ready to overpower them. The bridge itself was really not that incredible.

“But we are strong, each in our purpose, 

and we are all more strong together.”

~ Bram Stoker, Dracula

Cool to Confused in Seconds

Cool to Confused in Seconds

Zeke Chisholm sat at the back of the room, his red and white cap on his head, the peak covering the back of his neck. His white t-shirt tight to his youthful body, a denim shirt open with sleeves loosely rolled up, blue jeans with just the right touch of crumpled neatness. Slouching just enough in his chair so he looked relaxed and cool, but not so much that the teacher would tell him to ‘Sit up straight, Ezekiel!’ Mrs. Lannigan was pretty old school and if she was in a bad mood, she made Zeke take his cap completely off. She didn’t like earrings, for guys anyway, or any kind of piercings for that matter.  Although she didn’t know about the ones hidden behind t-shirts and below waistbands.

Zeke had had a slower morning than usual. It was Monday morning. Saturday night had really been fun, not that he remembered much about it. He thought he had, but wasn’t really that clear. Stuff was kind of hazy. Sunday had been kind of blurry too. He didn’t do anything about it except sleep more. His parents put it down to teenage laziness and he was almost convinced they were right. Except for the feeling in his arms and legs. He was supposed to play some b-ball with his buddies but called it off.

Zeke’s eyes roamed the room, looking for Lacey Sarino. Saturday night had really been good. Looking at Lacey, Mrs. Lannigan’s voice seemed far away, kind of like in a tunnel. His eye lids were twitching like they did some time just before he went to sleep. Weird.

WTF! Why is my tongue so sore?! Mom called me for breakfast. Better get moving. I’ll be late for school. I promised Lacey I’d walk her to school today............WTF - Where am I? What am I doing on a bare floor!? My room at least has an old carpet! Damn, my head hurts.

“Ezekiel, wake up~ you fell out of your desk. The school nurse is here.”

“Why? The school nurse is only called in an emergnecy and I’m not at school yet. What are you doing here Mrs. Lannigan? Are you mad at me again?”

Zeke opened his eyes and saw a circle of faces staring down at him. Lacey with her long blond hair was crying, mascara tracing black wavery lines down her cheeks. What’s wrong with everyone? Why are they all staring at me? WTF! My pants are wet! I bet those jerks poured water on me and are having a good laugh. I wonder who needs the ambulance?

Zeke slipped back to sleep. When he woke up again, there was a mattress under him. His classmates faces had been replaced by white curtains. He could hear voices outside. Now where am I? What’s going on!? I’m supposed to walk Lacey to school.

A tall man Zeke had never seen pushed open the curtains. “Hey Zeke, how’re you feeling now? You gave everyone a nasty scare. Is this your first seizure or have you had others?”

Zeke's tongue was thick and sore, but he managed "I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. Just get me out of here so I can get to school. Lacey’s going to be really mad at me - didn’t I just see her. Was she crying?”

"Lacey? Is that your girlfriend. She’s in the waiting room with your mom and the school nurse. She insisted on coming with you. But let’s get back to why you’re in Emergency. I want to get you out of here as fast as you do, but I have to find out what caused your seizure. Guys like you don’t just have a tonic-clonic seizure in class for fun!”

Zeke was stunned into unusual silence.

“I’ve called a neurologist and ordered an EEG - that’s an electro encephalogram - to see what your brain has to tell us. This might have been a ‘one of’ fluke just like you said earlier - or it might be something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like epilepsy.”

“Epilepsy!!!! Epilepsy!! Did you tell my mom that!? Lacey? So you mean I’ll flop on the floor like a dead fish or do the funky chicken dance just out of the blue! I don’t think so. I’m not going to be like that guy in Grade 12! I’m not going to be like him!” Zeke's fists slammed on the mattress.

Zeke was rambling, his eyes filling with tears. He wiped them violently away, still sitting on the edge of the stretcher, too weak and confused to stand up. “I won’t be able to work. To keep my driver’s license. To finish my high school! I’ve watched what that other guy goes through!"

“Hold on! Hold on! One step at a time. Let’s get a diagnosis first and then see what needs to happen. I want you to see the neurologist who’ll give you the goods. We don’t know that it is epilepsy yet.” 

"Where's my mom? I need to talk to her, please. I just want to go home."