Moments

Life is made up of trillions of moments, each one affecting the ensuing moment. We control many of these moments in our lives by the choices we make. Others we can't control, either because they were made by another individual or they are merely the consequence of the previous moment. When we look back at time, we can often piece the moments together in a string of events. When we do this we are able to see the interwoven fiber that connects them together.

Sometimes these series of interconnected events are the most beautiful thing in the world and they become the stories that get passed down through the ages. They may start out with "So I took the later train that day and when I climbed aboard, I saw the most beautiful woman sitting there" and end with "that women is your grandmother." We look back and exclaim, "Oh thank heavens your alarm didn't go off that morning" or "So glad the sticky note fell off the door and got picked up by him" or "If he hadn't been promoted, we never would have moved back east." These events are so prominent that it is easy to recognize them and show gratitude for them.

Then there are other events that we never notice, many of them because they never happened. We will never know that if we hadn't stopped to change the radio station before backing out of the driveway that we would have hit the neighbor boy riding his bike down the sidewalk. We'll never know that if the meeting coordinator hadn't pushed for the meeting to be in Austin rather than San Antonio, we may have been on a flight without a doctor so that when we suffered an allergic reaction, we may have died rather than being saved by a complete stranger. We will never know that the the farmer had changed pesticides at the last second and had he not, we would have become seriously ill from the apples we purchased. These events never occurred because a tiny moment forever altered the course of time. They are the ones, that if we even recognize, cause us to exclaim, "I'm so glad that…"

Finally we have the type of events that hurt, the ones we wish we could rewind the clock on. These are the ones that cause us to utter "if only" over and over again. We replay the moment or the moments and events leading up to the moment and agonize over each one, knowing that each was a stepping stone that led up to the accident or tragedy. We, by nature, are inclined to either take the blame or cast the blame, thinking somehow that doing so will help. It won't. As we start to comprehend that these millions of events are all interconnected, blaming someone is simply pardoning another earlier in the chain.

Ultimately, as we realize that we are mere mortals in an eternal situation, we will be more capable of letting go. Letting go of the guilt, the pain, the anger, and the longing. God has mastered the delicate balance of being omnipotent and yet allowing us to have our free agency. He is capable of preventing every accident, every heartache, but would that be somehow better? How would that affect later events? How would we grow if that is how God worked? He knows the end from the beginning and He knows us personally. He is the on who sends angels to the scene of an accident and dictates whether it is heal or to usher one home.

In the wake of Sammy's accident on Thursday, I have reflected on these eternal matters. As I sat in the back of the cab on my way to pick her and Hattie up, I found myself in prayer. When we later learned that Sammy, despite being hit by a car going 35 MPH, had not sustained any broken bones or permanent internal damage, I knew guardian angels had been sent. I wouldn't doubt it if they were the same angels that kept me from falling out of a window at the age of 2 or healing my broken neck at the age of 4. I can't explain why this was a "thank heavens" and not an "if only" moment in our lives. I can't explain why some accidents don't have a positive outcome while others do. I have, however, been involved in too many traumatic injuries in this life to know that it isn't just "luck" or "fate" that dictates the outcome of a situation. I've found that faith and trust in Him are the only ways to obtain peace during moments of tribulation. Indeed, how we respond, not the moments themselves, are the only thing truly within our control.

Spanish Understood

Here's a piece I wrote about my experience in the Dominican Republic.

I sat down on a makeshift bench to rest my aching feet.  My black leather shoes were dusty, more so than usual.  For being a tropical island, it sure hadn’t rained in quite awhile and the roads were exceptionally dry.  As I sat there, the sun still baking down on my now tanned face, I overheard a conversation.  I glanced up to see two kids walking down the street, empty plastic soda bottles bouncing behind them on worn strings.  They were talking about finding better bottle tops to fashion into wheels.  I understood every word.  I realized at that moment I had crossed the threshold.  I no longer yearned to understand the Dominican people.  I now did.

short skates

i can feel a cough
a deep stunted struggling
inside my chest, filling up my throat
like an animal, caged and dangerous
ready to ignite this fuse, explode

like a sail boat with no sails
no wind to push me
no ruder left to steer me
no stars to guide me
no one to hear me
no life vest to save me

a face on a light post
enabling the entertainers
startling the suspects
angering the innocent
propagating paranoia
rioting the rebellious
all to solve a problem

let me hold your hand
grasp just tight enough
to ensure i'm here
to run away forever
through sunflower fields
and shady groves
to reach that new beginning
where the grass has no fear

Chapter 5

The van sped down highway 4. Annie tried to open her eyes but they felt heavy, as if her eyelids had become small weights. She could hear rapid talking from the front of the van and a somewhat inconsistent breathing from someone near her in the back. Her head was spinning and she felt sick; mostly from the throbbing she felt at the base of her skull. The van continued bouncing along and each bump seemed to jolt her in the most uncomfortable way. She tried to make out what the men were saying but she couldn't maintain consciousness and passed out again. Annie woke with a thud that sent a pain through her back. She had been pulled by her feet out of the van and landed squarely on her back on a hard floor. She opened her eyes and was nearly blinded by the intense light from above her.

"Don't hurt her you imbecile."

"Sorry Sir."

"Annie? Annie can you hear me? Wake up dear."

She opened her eyes just enough to see a face about 3 inches from her own.

She struggled for words. "Who are you?"

It became apparent to the man standing above her that she was struggling to open her eyes.

"Turn off those bloody lights already, he barked."

The lights were dimmed almost immediately and Annie was able to blink a few times and finally fully open her eyes. Her eyes took a moment to focus and once they did she saw a man standing above her, apparently the one in charge and barking the commands. She recognized him. He had a somewhat round face with dark eyebrows and hair. She knew she had seem him somewhere but couldn't remember where. She started going through every dark corner of her brain in hopes that the memory would put a name with the face she was now seeing. However, her mental exercise was interrupted.

"Annie, you know why you are here right? Your husband, Jack, has something very important to us. The technology he invented belongs to us but he doesn't seem to believe that. You see, he is trying to maintain involvement for the next 18 months and that simply can't be allowed. He is also holding back a key portion of the code that we need. We really didn't want to have to do it this way but this is a sticky situation and my hands are tied. Things are turning desperate. And you know what they say about desperate times right?

He laughed to himself. A very obnoxious loud laugh.

"So thanks for coming with us Annie. Don't worry one bit....we feel confident that Jack will do the right thing. Smile!"

The man pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of her. When he moved the phone away she got another look at him and she nearly lost her breath. She recognized him as one who had sat at the same table as her and David at a special dinner they had attended in DC. She didn't want to believe it but she was pretty confident that there, standing over her, was the United States Deputy Secretary of Defense.

The Contract - Chapter 4

If you haven't read chapters 1-3 yet, please start HERE.

Chapter 4

As David approached the house, he noticed that the garage door was open. So was the front door. This became even more alarming when David realized that he couldn't see a single light on inside the house. He quickly jogged up the steps to the front door. His eyes had pretty well adjusted to the darkness from the walk. He saw that the coffee table was overturned and the lamp was broken to pieces all over the carpet. David's heart began beating quickly as he stepped toward the light switch. Nothing. He swore again. This time it was barely audible due to the fear that was gripping around his mind like a vice grip. He ran into the kitchen and noticed the stove was still on high and a pot of stew was boiling over onto the range top and down the front of the oven. He quickly turned the burner off, somehow managing to not burn his hand in the process. Then he saw something that made his stomach churn. He couldn't contain it and barely turned in time to throw up all over the kitchen sink. There on the counter, barely visible through the moonlight coming through the sliding back doors, were strewn the internal remains of some sort of animal. David was able to regain composure, retrieve a flashlight from the pantry, and return to the disturbing site. He saw a piece of paper sticking out from the mess. He gingerly reached for it and turned the paper over. Then he read the words that for 17 years he had feared would one day resurface. "Hi Jack, we found you."

Okay readers, I need your help. I want you to suggest in the comments what you think should come next. Who is Jack and what is going on here?

Need to be Needed

My eyes were still stinging. I cupped my hands over my face and breathed in deeply. When exhaling, I tried to push the air between the slits in my fingers. I could probably fall asleep like this, my elbows on the table. I could fall asleep in most any position actually. Noise? Light? Not a problem. I slouched down again in my chair, letting my head hang uncomfortably over the back of the chair. This put a strain on my neck that let me know I was still feeling something. I had sunk into a boredom so deep that even the things I wanted to do were now sleep inducing. This whole sleep thing, it wasn't because of insomnia or even going to bed at extremely late hours. I think it was a result of not being pushed. I had started to feel worthless, not needed, unmotivated. This wasn't my fault. Not entirely. Sure, I could rummage through some tutorial somewhere on some computer related topic but once again, this would be just another sleep inducing activity. Maybe we should just refer to these as SIA's in the future. I like that. But what do you think, should we leave the apostrophe?

I wasn't desiring something to do on a scale between good and better. I was aspiring to do something that would make me feel needed. You know, that necessary human emotion we all long for. Just like love or success or happiness, it feels good to be needed. Like the time when you see a group of men carrying something heavy from a moving truck into a home, like an upright piano, and you are able to lend a hand to prevent the piano from falling. Even if they don't utter the phrase, "good thing you were there" you will still feel a sense of accomplishment. You feel glad that you were needed.

I had at times been needed but I wanted to play a bigger role; Get my hands involved in more assignments. More participation surely will lead to more knowledge and more knowledge will prompt promotion. No one wants to stay the bottom rung on a ladder. It should be noted however that pushing to be needed can be a risky thing. Realistically you shouldn't have to try and be needed. You just are. The egg whites aren't begging to be added to that birthday cake, they just are. They provide that yummy light texture we all desire and so naturally an experienced baker would be crazy to omit them from the ingredient list.

This brings me to a point of questioning: What areas do I shine in that would make it easy to be needed? This is not something I'm great at. You know, the whole idea of pinning down my strengths. That's one reason I don't love interviews. That ever so common question, "So tell me your strengths." Of course I can't blame an employer for asking it but it makes me flirt with the line between bragging and digging. Digging to find something I can highlight. This small piece written here was an exercise. An exercise to both keep me awake and to test my brain to see if it was still functioning, cable or writing a sort of oratory. Almost a dialogue with oneself. I don't know, you tell me, was it successful?

The Contract - Chapter 3

David stood there, staring at the overpriced cheese puffs at the Sinclair convenience store. He had a weak spot for chips and in an attempt to "fix" this unhealthy habit, Annie always made him pay at the pump with a credit card when they were together. However, when he filled up on the way home, he never missed a chance to come inside to buy a few bags of the "Scorchin Hot Sauce Cheese Puffs". David glanced at his watch. 7:32. Wow, he was running later then he had realized. He grabbed a bag and went to the register. The total came $54.73. Months ago, the number would have made him slightly nauseous. Now, knowing the status of his bank account, he smiled at the Sinclair employee and headed to the car. He hung the gas pump back up, crinkled up the receipt that dangled from the printer, and climbed into his Volvo. Knowing the time, he knew he better call Annie and let her know that he was nearly home. He reached for his phone on the front seat and his hand came up empty. He turned on the overhead light and looked around. David was sure he had been tossed his phone onto the passenger seat when he climbed into the car leaving the office. He fumbled around, wedging his hand between the center console and the seat. Nothing. He leaned over the front seat and peered under. Still no sign of his phone. Leaning back in his seat, he let out a big sigh and turned the key. He felt confident that he would have better luck looking when he got back to the house. He pulled out onto Highway 41 and speed toward home.

David thought back on his recent accomplishments. He was overly excited and appreciative in regards to his newfound fortune. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake a bad feeling about Grant Verneer. He and Grant had started the cellular encryption process together 3 years ago. Grant had been the one to pose the idea as well as fund the project. David had simply been the "brains" that made the project move. He was always amazed that whenever he asked Grant for additional funds, he was never denied. As more progress was made, Grant became more lavish with his money and had no intention of hiding it. The peculiar thing was that, although Grant seemed to be getting richer with the day, the project had yet to produce so much as a dime in profit. The funds were originally obtained through an Angel Investor out of Santa Monica California. A guy named Craig Lawrence, one of the few lucky beneficiaries from the dot com bubble. However, paying Grant or David had not been part of the original funding agreement. David had become suspicious that Grant was filtering funds from the project into his personal bank account. His obnoxious way of living, filled with women and alcohol, cars and vacations, was starting to wear on David. This coupled with the secrecy of how Grant was able to maintain such a lifestyle finally caused David to push Grant for answers. It had been on a Thursday morning over coffee. Grant responded with the same response he always gave, "David, you know my grandfather left me in great shape. If you need more money for the project, just let me know. Don't worry about the trivial matters of my personal life" David pried further which resulted in Grant cursing at him, causing a scene in the coffee shop, and taking off. Since that day, Grant had been around very little. Although he wasn't exactly missed, his absence was somewhat alarming to David.

David was approaching White Pine Drive when a large SUV came screeching around the corner. David jerked the steering wheel to the right and was able to avoid a head on collision but slammed into the curb as a result. There was a loud pop sound and it was quickly apparent that the impact caused an explosion in the front right tire. David threw the car in park and cursed repeatedly at the lunatic driver who David could see in his rear view mirror disappearing into the darkness. There were only 5 houses on White Pine Drive and he was determined to find out which of those neighbors was associated with this driver. David reached into his pocket for his phone to ring Annie and only then remembered it was missing. David reached back into the car and turned the engine off. He then locked the car and headed down the street to his house. He knew it was better to get home and let Annie know the situation rather then spending another 20 minutes trying to replace the popped tire. Little did David know that the SUV that nearly killed him moments before was also carrying his unconscious wife in the back seat.

The Contract - Chapter 2

Annie's hand stopped just as her fingers touched the phone. She froze. The cacophony that had just filled the room stopped just as abruptly as it had all started. Goosebumps surfaced all over her body. She gasped for air and realized she had forgot to breathe. She let her hand grasp the cell phone and then fumbled in an attempt to dial David. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Her throat went tight as she heard the call answered to the sound of a low breathing on the other end of the call. "David!", she screamed into the phone. The breathing stopped. "David where are you!?" Then she heard a snap, like the sound of a branch breaking from a tree after an ice storm. She not only heard the sound in the phone but she heard it emanate through the room. It came from the bottom of the stairs. She tried to think but she felt like a fog had just settled in over her mind. She stumbled backward against the counter and reached for some sort of weapon to wield in self defense. She grabbed the potato masher she had been using for the dinner. She flung it across the room toward the stair well. Somehow, despite her trembling arm, she managed to land the masher in the stairwell where it bounced down the wood stairs before reaching the bottom. Annie turned and found the closest knife, a 8 inch flat bladed knife she had used to dice the carrots.

She slouched to the floor, using the counter top and surrounding cabinets as a barrier between her and the stairwell. She sat there for what felt like days but in reality was probably no more then 10 minutes. During those 10 minutes the only sound she heard was her own heart beating in her chest. What if David was injured? Was he being held hostage? What if he was lying on the driveway bleeding to death? Panic surged through her body and she realized she had to move. She had to find David. She started crawling through the kitchen toward the living room at the front of the house, hoping to get a view of the driveway from the bay windows. Her heart told her to run to the windows but her brain forced her to a slow crawl. She neared the hallway where she finally stood up, back flat against the kitchen wall. She peered around the corner and nothing appeared out of place. She started down the hall and had just reached the living room when the lights behind her went off. She swirled around and before she could see what was happening felt a blow to the side of her head. She didn't know what had hit her but an excruciating pain shot through her ear and down her neck. The blow caused her to stumble and her one foot caught the edge of the step into the living room and she fell backward onto the antique coffee table. Two of the table legs snapped upon impact and the table toppled over, flinging her helpless body into the base of the sofa. Blood was now running down the side of her face from the blow to the head and she tried to regain her feet to retreat but was overcome from behind by a strong arm that wrapped around her shoulders, pressing tightly into her neck. Then the tip of a needle sank into her shoulder, just above the clavicle. It felt like warm syrup had been injected into her skin and she couldn't think. Annie's world went dark.

The Contract

Annie pulled her hand back quickly. She nearly let out an expletive but had made it a new years resolution to clean up her rough tongue, something she had learned from her coal mining father. The water heater in the house was the original when the house was built in the 1930's. It worked extremely well, too well in moments like this when warm water would be preferable over scalding hot water. Annie rinsed her hands for a minute in the cold water and then dried them on the front of her apron. She looked out the window above the sink and could see the lighthouse in the distance.

Being a girl from North Dakota, she often wondered how she had ended up in Maine. Sometimes she felt like a stranger here in New England, despite having left North Dakota over 18 years ago. It wasn't that she held a particular fondness for that flat and uninspiring state, it was simply "home". Her parents along with 2 of her 3 brother still lived on the family property near Mercer. She glanced at the clock. It was 7:18 and David should have been home by now. He usually called when he was passing the Sinclair but tonight he hadn't phoned. The Shepherd's Pie was just about done, the cheese turning a golden brown around the edges. It smelled comforting and she was proud of herself for not allowing their recent wealth to make her lazy and order out every night. David had begun work 3 years previous on a device that would allow voice encryption over cell towers at an impressive 512k. The government was informed and took interest in the chip. This led to a formal invitation to present in D.C. and after 2 weeks of negotiations, David sold the technology to the Department of Defense for 12 million dollars. The contract required David to stay involved in the transition and implementation of the technology for the ensuing 18 months. After which, David would be free and had promised to take her to Europe for the summer.

She had dreamed of floating down the canals of Venice and watching a firework show at the Eiffel Tower. It would be very unique to vacation together, just the two of them, and not have a single worry about money. She had always been so frugal, mostly a result of her low income upbringing, and now she didn't have to worry. She heard the old automatic garage door open and was relieved that David was home. She started toward the stairs to the garage when she heard her cell phone ringing from the counter. She headed back to answer it when the home phone rang. Almost instantaneously the door bell rang and a knock came at the back door. Then the sound from the garage door opening suddenly stopped. Annie froze and chills shot up her spine. Something very wrong was happening at 2564 White Pine Drive. She reached for her cell phone and as soon as she did everything went silent.

The Beginning

The morning rain had drenched the city and the lines in the sidewalk lines were still dark. The sun had since burst through the heavy clouds and the heat from the July summer day was amplified by the extra dose of humidity. I walked more carefully this morning. Yesterday I nearly lost my big toe nail in a battle of toe vs. rough concrete. My mind felt refreshed. It had been months since I had slept that long. The job at Drisden Investments had been rewarding financially but draining in most all other aspects of my life. The job finally made possible the relocation from the musty apartment on 9th Street to the more spacious and airy condo on 2nd Street and Bentley. The real benefit gleaned from working so much was that I had very little time to spend at the new pad.

It was beneficial in that the place felt lonely since Stacey moved out. Stacey was the dream girl that I had met at the Fieldhouse during my Senior year at Columbia. We happened to both be looking for a tennis partner and soon the tennis games lead to getting drinks together and after about 5 months she moved in. Now, 2 years later, my days were mundane without her. I never thought I'd miss the sound of the blow dryer at 5 A.M. but now I'd give anything to be woken up by her getting ready for the day. One could argue that the relationship decayed slowly over multiple weeks but to me it felt abrupt, like that terrible feeling of rear ending the car in front of you. It happened on a night when I came home late. Of course I was late,I had been putting in extra hours almost every night, anxious to obtain the next promotion. I found her sitting at the kitchen table. She looked different. Her hair was pulled up and she wore no makeup. To me she looked absolutely gorgeous. In fact, everytime I saw her like this it reminded me of the first day we met. Except that day she had just finished the running on the treadmill and was red in the face and wet with sweat. Stacey was also staying fit and whenever I started to think I was in really good shape, she would quickly remind me how far I had to go. Tonight, however, the care-free smile she once carried, was now replaced with a blank stare. A blank face, like a mime. I knew something was seriously wrong. I hung my laptop bag on the hook by the door and swung the door closed behind me. I think in my unease from the situation I pushed harder then was necessary and the door slammed shut with a thud. At least the door closed without applying a heavy shoulder to it and pulling up on the door handle. Then again, this place did cost $475,000 so it better have a door that will close without great physical involvement. She didn't seem to notice the bang. And then, it really was over, practically before it began. She stood up, wrapped her arms around my neck, told me she needed something new, and was gone. My heart told me to run after her but my brain was stuck. It was like the gray matter had been sloshed against my ivory skull and the result was a tidal wave of confusion. I stood still for probably 10 minutes. My feet felt cemented to the floor and my eyes were having a hard time focusing. I closed my eyes and that only made matters worse. The dizziness was overwhelming and I collapsed in a heap on the hardwood floor.

Tears didn't come. At least not that night. Nor the next in fact. I went 2 weeks before I came home, called out her name, and realized she REALLY was gone. Even that annoying Yorkie I had threatened to drop kick at least once a week now felt missing. I busied myself with other things. I took up painting again but that didn't seem to help. I rode the stationary bike until my quads would spasm. I started watching cooking shows on cable television. And then I started spending money. A lot of it. Didn't matter if it was wanted or needed, I bought it; New computer, tv, summer clothes, flip flops, etc.

That's where I was headed now in fact. To buy something. I wasn't sure what but I had a feeling that the heat would influence the decision. I was now nearing the street market that dominated Donovan Avenue from about 11th to 14th every Saturday morning. Then I heard and felt it. The crackling of brick being blown to pieces and the bits of plaster and brick being sprayed into my face. It was then I realized that the bullet had graced my ear, instantly flowing down my shoulder and arm. This would be alarming except for the realization that I had just been 2 inches away from having my head become a splatter of graffiti on the wall. After 15 years, 3 countries, and 2 different names, I had been tracked down. The impossible had been accomplished. I was back on the dart board and I had a feeling they didn't want to fail again.