Tag Archives: love

I Can See

23 Replies

I have not seen the face of God

He does not speak to me.

But I look upon the wonders

Everywhere I see.

A single rose does blossom,

And a sprig of grass does sprout ,

Are these the wonders of my Lord?

I think there is no doubt.

I stood in awe and watched

As an infant drew a breath.

I held the hand of a woman

As she journeyed into death.

Sunrises and sunsets

Paint a beautiful sight.

These are things that I can see,

The miracles of light.

A simple breath is drawn

With words that we can share.

Because we really do believe

These wonders are not rare.

Every second matters

You and I do too.

Love should be a part

Of everything we do.

And now I understand

What it means to be.

I have seen the face of God

He always speaks to me.

Was My Miniature Poodle Gay?

33 Replies

This is actually a blast from my past. It was originally posted in August 2017. He made me smile then and I hope he makes you smile now. Enquiring minds wanted to know…

I was five years old when Beau Brummel joined our merry family. My parents had been promising my brother, sister and I that we could get a dog one day. One Sunday afternoon we were out for a drive (I guess it was a way to stimulate curiosity in us young’uns.) We stopped for lunch a few towns over from where we lived. After eating, my siblings left the table only to return a few moments later with an announcement: There was a kennel in town. (They had checked the phonebook.) (For those of you too young to remember payphones, they were in most restaurants and on the street for people to make phone calls without going home. There were no cells phones or Internet in those days. It was the ‘60s Sigh.)

Busted! My father had promised. We came home with an 8 month old, pure bred, champion stock, black, miniature poodle. His front legs had been broken when he was a few days old and had healed incorrectly so his walk was always slightly off. We never noticed.

Beau ruled. Well, at least us kids. He played when he wanted to, he cuddled when he wanted to. And he always looked like he knew better.

Because Beau was of champion stock, breeders wanted to use him as a stud. My parents agreed. Evidently it didn’t go well. He didn’t seem to know what to do. The first indication?

About few years later we added another dog to the mix. A beautiful Chesapeake Bay Retriever, we called her Blue. She idolized Beau. On the last day of school before summer break, both dogs went missing. Eventually they showed up again and the summer continued as planned until . . .our beautiful Blue was pregnant!

Our first thought was: Beau! You ole dog! But no. We think he pimped her out to another retriever in the neighbourhood: Blacky, a black lab. The pups were stunning! I watched them being born. Quite an experience for a child. Beau hovered like a worried godfather. Second indication?

A few days later my brother, Blue and her five puppies left for university. Beau moped for twenty minutes and then started putting everything back to normal. But he did find a friend.

My best friend lived across the street. Her father was a hunter and had hunting dogs. Strictly off limits to curious children. They also had a male cat. Rusty was an outdoor cat whose job was to keep the mouse population in decline. He was very good at his job. We lived just outside a small city surrounded by forests and fields. It was a great place to live. Rusty was beautiful and affectionate. In those days your animals ran free so chances were good they would meet up. They did. Beau and Rusty became friends. The two boys met up most days and Beau often invited Rusty into the house for snacks or even a nap. Third indicator?

A few years later we moved to another province. Beau never again had a special friend like Rusty. I wonder if they found each other across the Rainbow Bridge?

The Wood Pile

29 Replies

Two lovers share a stolen glance,

The world would not approve.

Kindred spirits they must be,

The world could not disprove.

So, they sneak a furtive touch,

Where others cannot see.

Knowing it would never last,

When others will not plea.

Why oh why can love not be?

It does not harm another.

When our gentle lovers meet,

They only charm each other.

On the woodpile our lover’s chance,

To share a tender kiss.

They regret that they must leave,

And lose that tender bliss.

Time has passed and lovers gone,

The world has not stopped turning.

To find true love is never wrong,

The world has not stopped yearning.

The Dynamic Duo has once again provided me with a picture I could not resist. Thank you to Maggie and Dan over at nofacilities.com.

Sweet Valentine

53 Replies

Madeline stood across the street for a moment thinking about what she was about to do. She had always considered herself an intelligent woman; she had a good career and a lovely new home. She believed that she was mildly attractive. And yet, she was lonely. Her divorce had come through a few weeks ago, just before a job offer here, in what for her was a new town. She had no family and no friends nearby. Essentially, she was starting her life over. Alright, she thought. Change is in the air. Let’s do it! She squared her shoulders and crossed the street to the Pet Adoption Agency.

When Madeline entered, a young woman behind the desk immediately looked up and smiled. A huge, tabby, feline-like creature also looked up, yawned and promptly went back to sleep. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed just a very large cat. He sat, or more correctly sprawled across the top of the desk. It seemed to be a generous desktop, but underneath this huge feline it almost looked small.

“Hello,” said Madeline, “I’m looking to adopt a cat.”

The young woman’s smile became even more pronounced.

“Well, we can certainly help you with that. Are you looking for any particular breed, sex, or colour?”

As the two women spoke, the huge cat raised its head, yawned once again and stretched out a paw to Madeline. Almost without thinking she scratched behind his ears, and smiled for the first time in days.

“He likes you, and he’s available for adoption.”

“What exactly is he? He’s so big. It’s a he, isn’t it?”

The young woman behind the desk chuckled. “Yes, he’s a cat. He’s a Maine Coon; they’re an extremely large breed. But they’re very gentle, curious and they like people a lot. He would make a great companion.”

Madeline thought about it for a moment. “Why is he here? He certainly seems well fed and content. Is there something wrong with him?” She wanted someone to share her new life with, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to take on any complications.

For the first time since Madeline had walked in the door the young woman lost her smile.

“It’s sad. He was abandoned, left alone in an empty apartment. Someone just packed up their belongings and left. It’s awful that anyone would do that to such a beautiful creature.”

The anger on this young woman’s face was obvious. Madeline shared it. Cruelty to animals was one of her pet peeves.

“Does he have a name?”

“He was found with a name tag: Valentine.”

Madeline’s heart missed a beat. Maybe she was too much of a romantic. Valentine’s Day was just a few weeks away, maybe it was a sign that she should take this abandoned cat into her heart. At least he wouldn’t steal her blankets in the middle of the night like her ex-husband used to, well, hopefully.

Several hours later, after filling out the paperwork and the cat having one final check-up, Madeline took her new roommate home. It wasn’t a long drive and Valentine was surprisingly calm throughout. She was curious to see what his first reaction would be to his new lodgings.

The condominium Madeline had recently purchased was quite comfortable but not overly large. She didn’t think a cat would take up that much room. Of course, that was before she met Valentine.

When she set the pet traveling case down on the floor, Valentine refused to venture out. She peered inside but he didn’t look afraid, he was quite comfortably curled up at the back of the carrier. With a little coaxing he did amble out and for the next hour he investigated every corner, every nook and cranny in the apartment. Madeline made herself comfortable on the couch and watched. Of course, there were a few times she had to get up to go and open a door or cupboard because Valentine could be quite insistent. His meowing was surprisingly loud. He wanted to see it all. Fortunately, in his wanderings he had found his water dish, his food dish and his kitty litter. Everything had, apparently, been deemed acceptable.

Eventually Valentine returned to where Madeline was sitting, jumped up onto her lap, turned around twice, curled up into a sizeable a ball and went to sleep. Madeline smiled and figured there was going to be a substantial part of her life that would now be spent not moving so as not to disturb her beautiful tabby roommate.

Valentine continued to explore over the next several days. He had to get used to his new home, and both of them had to get used to a new routine. When Madeline looked into the eyes of her newly-acquired companion, she saw intelligence and perhaps a little mischief. His eyes were liquid gold with flecks of amber. White and black whiskers stood out at a sharp angle from his all-white mouth. Evidently a trait of the Maine Coon cat was a long and full coat. Valentine had that in abundance. Curling up with him on a cold winter’s night was going to be like cuddling up with a warm blanket, one that purred.

It seemed that Valentine had behaviours more in common with a dog than with a cat. He liked to be a part of whatever Madeline was doing. He found it necessary to go through her clothes and the drawers they were in. He wanted access to all the cupboards and he was not shy about telling her so, loudly. He also liked to be fed at particular times. Madeline felt that she should have a sign made: “Humans Trained Here”. Valentine was a great coach.

There was something else that Valentine insisted on: physical contact. He would sit on her desk as she worked, just within reach. If Madeline didn’t pet him, then he would reach out a paw and touch her, repeatedly. He was by no means an aloof cat; he liked attention. And when he got it, he purred like a small outboard motor.

Valentine became her salvation. He needed her. She came home from work every night tired, and every night he was waiting for her at the door. He greeted her with bright eyes and a welcoming purr.

Over the next several weeks things went well for Madeline and Valentine. Then, early one evening, the phone rang and everything changed.

A deep, strong voice identified himself as Martin Gordon. “A mistake has been made and I believe you have my cat.”

Suddenly, Madeline’s world turned upside down. Valentine was a part of her now, an important part. She could not imagine having to give him up. He was her Sweet Valentine. She also knew that she had to listen to this man, to hear what he had to say. The Pet Adoption Agency would never have given him her number had he been a flake.

When Madeline opened the door an hour later, she was presented with a well-dressed gentleman, tall, and extremely attractive. His hair curled up just behind his ears like a little boy’s. His shoulders were wide. He obviously took care of himself. It was almost funny but he did have his hat in his hands. He also had a story to tell.

Madeline invited Martin in and he began to speak as he moved towards the couch and sat down.

“My mother is widowed and lives alone in England. I received a call stating that she was gravely ill. She wasn’t expected to live. I was the only one who could take care of her affairs, her estate.”

He paused for a breath and continued.

“I immediately made arrangements with my next-door neighbour to take care of Valentine while I was away. I thought I was only going to be gone for a few weeks. And while I didn’t know her well, I believed Valentine would be safe with her.”

Martin went on to explain how his mother had miraculously survived her illness. She didn’t want to come and live with him so he was forced to make arrangements for a live-in companion. He couldn’t leave her until he was certain she would be well cared for. As a result, he was out of the country for more than three months.

Madeline sat pensive and sombre on a chair across from Martin, waiting for him to continue.

“I made the mistake of trusting the wrong person.”

Madeline could see the pain on his face.

“She was a young woman and I had only known her for a few months but Valentine seemed to like her. While I was in England, final arrangements were made for a house I had recently purchased and since Valentine was going to be living in my neighbour’s apartment, I felt it was a perfect opportunity for the movers to come in and pack up my apartment. Unfortunately, the woman I trusted with Valentine proved to be irresponsible. She moved. She didn’t want to take Valentine so she just left him. She didn’t even try to contact me. According to a neighbour, the superintendent found a cat in her empty apartment and called animal control. I never thought an indoor cat needed an identity chip. Obviously, I was very wrong. Now I regret that decision.”

It was starting to rain outside, Madeline noticed. Perhaps it was appropriate for the mood she was beginning to feel.

“I was devastated,” said Martin.

When he returned from overseas, Martin was in a state of panic. The young woman had not returned any of his calls for several weeks and he had imagined the worst. The superintendent didn’t know about his cat. Another neighbour told him about her move and about animal control picking up a cat. He spent the next few weeks trying to find Valentine. Unfortunately, there is no central database for animals and he was forced to go to each individual agency, veterinarian’s office, and pet store in his search. What he discovered was that animals were not kept for long. They are sometimes given to other agencies in the hopes of adoption and sometimes euthanized. It was several weeks before he happened on the right agency. They remembered Valentine.

Martin looked around the apartment. His eyes grew large. Valentine wasn’t here.

“Please tell me you actually have Valentine,” he said, a desperate tone in his voice.

“I have him.” Madeline’s voice was low. She had to accept that Valentine belonged to this man. But she didn’t want to believe it. She had grown to love her Sweet Valentine. The thought of giving him up brought tears to her eyes. But as she looked at this man, she could see that he also felt as she did. They both loved the same cat.

Madeline stood. A second later, so did Martin.

“I gave Valentine to a neighbour,” whispered Madeleine. , “I needed to be sure, I needed… I’m sorry. I’ll get… I’ll get Valentine.” With that she left the apartment.

Martin continued to stand, waiting, unsure what to do.

A moment later Madeline returned hugging the large cat tightly in her arms. When Valentine caught sight of the visitor he jumped down, raced across the room and leapt into Martin’s arms.

Madeline could only watch as the two companions became reacquainted. Martin had tears in his eyes. She could hear Valentine’s purr from across the room. They belonged together.

After a moment, Martin raised his head. “Thank you,” he whispered, but the message was loud and clear: she had lost Valentine. Unable to watch the two any longer, Madeline set about gathering Valentine’s belongings.

“I have… I have some food… and toys… and… and…”

She was trying very hard to maintain her dignity. She would not cry in front of this stranger. But he was taking her Sweet Valentine!

“Please, Ms. Bellamy—”

“My name is Madeline.”

“Please, Madeline, please sit for a moment.” Madeleine sat as requested, but she couldn’t look Martin in the eye.

The moment she was seated, Valentine left Martin’s embrace and jumped into her lap. He now wanted her attention. And his purr was as loud as it had been for Martin.

“It seems we have a dilemma.” She could hear the smile in Martin’s voice before she looked up to confirm it.

“We both love Valentine. And he obviously loves both of us. I think we need to have joint custody.”

Madeline could not believe her ears. She wasn’t going to lose her Sweet Valentine!

“As I mentioned, I have bought a house,” continued Martin. “It’s only two blocks from here. I’m often away on business and I am sure Valentine would love to spend any time he doesn’t spend with me, with you. We’re going to be neighbours; we could also be friends.”

Madeline hugged Valentine even closer. She didn’t want Martin to see her tears falling. Her Sweet Valentine was not leaving. She could share him, especially with this very attractive gentleman standing in her parlour.

“Thank you. I do love my Sweet Valentine and I’d love to share him with you.”

“It’s going to take me a few weeks to get settled in my new home. Would you be willing to keep Valentine here and let me visit him every day?”

Madeline didn’t trust herself to speak again; she just smiled and nodded.

On her lap the object of their mutual affection looked from Madeline to Martin and purred.

Ah yes, thought Valentine, washing his immaculate whiskers with his paw, humans are so easily manipulated.

The Last Christmas Gift

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Elsie looked around the room. There was carnage everywhere. A tornado passing through would have left less damage. Bodies were strewn throughout the mayhem. She chuckled. Just another Christmas morning with children.

One of the bodies stirred. A little fist came up from beneath the wrapping paper it had been curled under. A pile of boxes sneezed. Another child was stirring. Elsie thought perhaps there were a few more to come. But she knew the fresh smell of coffee would probably wake all the adults up. Sure enough, the love of her life wandered into the room, his hands wrapped around a hot steamy mug. With no hesitation he handed it to Elsie and returned from whence he came to get another.

A few more adults showed up with coffee at hand and a tray of hot chocolate for the children. It was Christmas morning. It was after the frenzy of opening gifts. After breakfast. Everyone had been up so early for the main event that the naps became inevitable. The children slept curled around their newfound bounty while the adults found more comfortable settings. Elsie didn’t need a nap. She wanted to watch her charges. There is nothing more spiritual then the breath of a sleeping child, safe and secure in her surroundings.

There was a different feeling in the room as everyone gathered once again. They all knew what was coming. Except for one. Malcolm was new to the group, to the family. He was still getting used to the Western dynamic. He had been born into soul crushing poverty in another country. His family had been killed in a local war that no one understood. He was alone. But he had been found by people who cared and so began his journey to this moment.

“Malcolm,” send Elsie, “There is one more Christmas gift for the family. That includes you. But you don’t know the history so I’m going to tell you how this all started.”

Malcolm set up straighter, he was interested to know how things worked here and he was curious about his new family. So, he listened very carefully.

Elsie continued: “When my Great, Great, Great Grandfather came to this country he was very poor. But his parents believed they could find a better life, a better future in the New World. They risked everything. The first few years were hard but they were a hard-working family. That first Christmas looked like it was going to be pretty bleak. There was barely enough money for food let alone presents. But there was a wise patriarch and he refused to be sad. He said the goose had wandered across the street and died. His beloved wife said nothing as she picked the buck shot out of the breast of their Christmas goose.

They said grace and gave thanks for their bounty. The light was dim and the curtains were thin but they knew that others were worse off so they gave thanks. And that’s when my ancestor brought out the Last Christmas Gift.”

Elsie sat back in her chair and smiled. She looked at the faces around her beaming with anticipation. She loved this part of Christmas.

“Ever since then we have honoured the tradition that was started so many years ago.”

As if by magic a small beautifully wrapped package appeared in her lap. There were many ooohs and aaaahs from her audience. And not just the children!

With studied patience Elsie peeled back the wrapping paper. And then with a flick of her wrist a small wooden carving appeared in the palm of her hand. It was a little drummer boy.

Elsie smiled. “Would anyone like to tell me what gift this is?”

Malcolm looked confused. He didn’t know the story of the Little Drummer Boy. And then something miraculous happened. A little tow-hair girl stood up and walked to Malcolm. She wrapped her little arms around him and said:

“His gift is to us all. He was a little drummer boy who had no presents to give the newborn King, Jesus Christ so he played his drum. He gave all he had in his heart and it was the most precious gift of all. That’s what we all need to do. And it will be precious.”

The end

Lovers’ Lane

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Adeline sat quietly, enjoying the warm sun on her face. It was one of those rare moments when she could sit on her porch with no interruptions and reminisce quietly.

“Grandma, grandma!”

“Gran!”

“Oh wait me! Not fair! Grandma I coming!”

The silence of a few moments ago was shattered by the arrival of three tow haired children of varying ages and variable vocal capabilities. They had several things in common: hair colour, freckles, parents and an innate ability to force the world to focus on them.

Adeline may have been jolted out of her reverie but she looked with fondness on the three grandchildren approaching her at a run. They arrived windblown and excited. Once all three had wrapped themselves around their grandmother and kissed her at least a dozen times each, they settle down and with one voice asked one question: “Story Gran?”

The three children were not the only ones out of breath. Adeline smoothed her tousled hair and sat back with a grin. She knew exactly where this was headed.

“Well now I don’t know if I should tell you a story. I’m quite sure it would be beneficial to have an in-depth political discussion on what is happening in the world today.” She looked at the puzzled faces in front of her.

“No Gran we want you to tell us the story of how you met grandpa.”

Adeline looked at the eldest of the three children. She wondered how she had thought to ask that question. Elizabeth was intelligent and very sure of herself. It was an odd trait to have in a child that was only twelve years old. Her sister Anne and brother Stuart were ten and five respectively. And both of them were looking on eagerly waiting for their grandmother’s reply.

“Well now I don’t know . . .” started Adeline.

“Daddy said it was one for the books. Did he mean you should write about it and let everybody know?”

Adeline eyes opened wide, “I’m sure that’s not what he meant!” She whispered to herself. To the children she spoke clearly, deftly ignoring the question.

“Well, I’ll tell you a story about your grandfather and me. It’s about how we met, umm, but you know I can’t tell you everything. Your grandfather and I have to keep some secrets from you three. At least until you’re older.” Adeline was smiling; she hoped the children didn’t notice that she was also blushing.

” Well, it all started when your grandfather arrested me.” Before she could utter another word, the children erupted.

“Oh, Gran you were a criminal!”

“I’ll bet you robbed a bank! Mama says they’re the criminals!”

“Grandma were you a prostate…, a prosta, a Protestant!”

Adeline smiled and calmed the children. She thought it best that she not tell Stuart the word he was looking for was a prostitute.

“Absolutely not! It wasn’t that kind of arrest. Now if you want me to continue you must be very quiet.”

Three fair heads nodded vigorously.

“Your grandfather was a Ranger. It’s like a policeman. He worked the local parks and made sure there were no criminals or any criminal activity. He also made sure that those who came to enjoy the parks were not harassed. Unfortunately, I was in the park to harass someone.”

It was at this point that Adeline stopped to think. Should she tell the three rapt faces the complete truth or should she perhaps edit the circumstances to fit her audience’s age group? Edit, it was the adult thing to do.

“I had recently broken up with my boyfriend. Actually, I was about to break up with my boyfriend. You see he was at the park with another girl. She was supposed to be my best friend but she had stolen my boyfriend. It was my intent to catch them together and embarrass them. You see the particular spot they had gone to was known as Lover’s Lane. It’s where everybody went when they were dating. It was secluded and quiet. Aaahhhh, it was a great spot to watch the stars.”

Adeline paused for a moment to remember the circumstances. She had left out the bit about the can of black paint she had planned to pour on her boyfriend’s car. That would definitely have been illegal so she really didn’t think it was a good idea to tell the children that part.

“Grandpa Oliver stopped me from making a very terrible mistake. It was wrong of me to try and get revenge for my hurt feelings.”

“So, is that when he arrested you?” Elizabeth always got to the point quickly.

“He really didn’t arrest me. He just threatened to. He let me tell my story and he let me cry and rant. He bought me a soda and we had a wonderful evening just talking. We’ve been together ever since.”

Adeline sat back and wondered if she could get away with that being the end of the story. The children’s reactions were typical for their age and sex: Elizabeth pretended to swoon, Anne made a declaration, “Boys are not to be trusted!” And Stuart was all curled up in a ball with his thumb firmly embedded between his lips. He made the cutest little sucking noises that for a moment everyone concentrated on.

The moment was shattered when the front door was opened by the one person they had all been thinking about. His booming voice roused even sleeping Stuart.

“And what are you all doing out here?” His smile belied his apparently harsh words.

Stuart merely sat up and rubbed his eyes but the two girls attached themselves to their Grandfather’s open arms.

“Oh, Grandpa, you arrested Grandma! Did you frisk her?”

“Did you throw her in the clink Grandpa? Does she have an arrest record?”

Oliver looked at Adeline over the top of children’s heads. He raised an eyebrow. She quickly shook her head, blushed and looked down. Oliver nodded his head and heaved a sigh of relief.

“I think it’s time all three of you were in washing your hands for dinner. Otherwise I’m going to have to arrest you and put you in the shed without your supper!” Oliver smiled as he said the words. No one believed his threats but all three immediately jumped up and ran into the house.

“You didn’t tell the whole truth did you my love?”

“Oliver there are some things that are no one else’s business. Besides I think I would like to be arrested tonight. Are you up for it? I could meet you later in the shed?”

The two old friends sat side-by-side holding hands. Forty-three years of marriage had not dulled their sense of fun and mischief.

The end

Smuggler’s Cove . . . Again

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Anita sat back; she was tired but she still smiled as she remembered. Today was an anniversary of sorts. Thirty-one years ago today she was reborn. She remembered the woman she had been, fondly. Actually, if she had not been the woman she was then, she would not be the woman she was today.

With a quiet chuckle Anita stood up and approached the bed where the object of her remembrances lay sleeping. She laid a gentle hand on his brow and he stirred for just a moment. But his breathing was deep, he would not wake for some time yet. So she sat back down and once again remembered.

*******************

‘John cupped her face in his hand, her beautiful face. She wore no make-up; she didn’t need any. There was no artifice to her. Everything she felt showed on her face. Right now, it showed her dismay at alarming people and something else. John wondered what she was thinking, feeling. He took her elbow and helped her to stand.’

It was at that moment that the woman, who used to be known as Anna, knew her destiny. This man was her future. She once swore that she would never allow another man to get too close to her heart. But John had sneaked in under her radar. And she was glad. John too was having an epiphany. As he helped her to stand, he could feel the weight of her heart in his hands. John knew that his future rested with this woman.

Anita sighed and shook her head. It had all happened so quickly. Without a word the two had gripped hands and decided to leave together. The woman who was Anna had never considered herself spontaneous. But here in the blink of an eye she was running away from a life that she had, with a man that she barely knew. But her heart was full and her conscience was clear. John too was leaving behind nothing that meant anything to him. He was not running away from life, he was running to it and taking with him all that had meaning.

*******************

All those years ago John had already been planning his escape. He loved the park, he really did, but he could never escape who he really was. Jonathan Edward Bellamy III was a curse, an albatross that John wore around his neck. So to that end, John had been preparing for his escape for many months. Money had been secreted away, a temporary hideaway had been prepared, and all that was still needed was a push. Anna provided the final reason. So, the two left the park quietly in a canoe that John kept in Smugglers Cove.

******************

Anita’s eyes flew open; she had heard a noise from the bed.

“John? John?” The concern in her voice was evident, but there was no response from the object of her concern. She felt his brow and it was cool, not fevered as it had been for several days. Anita was sure the danger had now passed. She wanted to weep as a release for her pent-up fears. She had been so afraid she was going to lose him: this man she had loved for thirty-one years.

***************

“Woman, you are starting to annoy me!” The voice was gruff but the eyes still twinkled with love and with humour.

“The Doctor said you were to take it . . . “

“The Doctor can take his advice and . . .”

“John! Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

On one side of the room was a slight, red haired lady with her hands firmly planted on her hips and a scowl on her face. On the other side of the room was a tall, pale man who was still recovering from a recent illness. The battle of wills was about to be waged and there was little doubt as to the victor.

“Okay, okay, you win! I promise to avoid marathons and mountain climbing for at least a month. Just remove the scowl from that beautiful face, please?”

“John. . .” Anita spoke lowly and crossed the room to put her arms around her patient. “I was so very afraid; I can’t lose you.”

John raised his arms and encircled his beloved. “You will never lose me.”

*************

Later that night Anita once again thought through all the years they had been together.

It hadn’t always been easy but the one thing they never lost sight of was each other. That first night in the canoe had been amusing. They were acting like high school students, running away. It was a bit tricky canoeing with a cane and she would not give up her laptop computer, but they managed. They only had to go a few miles by canoe and in some ways, it was quite exciting. Well, except for the almost drowning incident. And of course, they had met Samson. He was her constant companion for many years.

She never regretted what she had done. She did always wonder what everyone thought about the two of them. They slept for the first night in an old rundown cottage that someone had left unlocked. Or perhaps John was just good at breaking and entering, she didn’t ask. It had taken them almost a week of traveling to finally reach their hideaway. John had planned well. There was a vehicle, there was food, and there was a place to sleep. Of course, he had only planned on one person on the run not two, but they made do.

Perhaps the first month was the most difficult. They had to discover each other and had to come to terms with the lives they had left behind. Anita felt that she had not left anything important behind but she thought John had. After all he came from a family with money and position, how you give that up? But John thought about it differently. He hated who he had been and by definition the people who had forced him to be that person. But he had prepared well. They chose new identities and set about planning their life together. But there was always one thing in the back in Anita’s mind: returning to Smugglers Cove.

The money John had saved only lasted a few months but both were prepared to work to support their new lives. Perhaps it was nostalgia, perhaps it was guilt but Anita chose to write children’s stories that were quite successful. John once again took a position in an out of the way park. They had what they needed in life and they had each other. It was a good life.

*******************

‘He saw clearly in the sand the imprint of a man’s feet and right beside them a smaller pair: a woman’s. He looked out into darkness, they were here . . . again.’

Smugglers’ Cove . . .Between

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The surface of the river was still, almost glass like. Looking deep you could see the current running swiftly down stream. Hungry birds circled overhead, looking for a meal. A small fish leapt above the safety of the river narrowly missing becoming lunch. For a moment the world was quiet.

And then chaos. . . .

“John! Help! I can’t . . .” For only a few seconds a woman’s head broke the surface before she was dragged back down into the darkness. The unforgiving depths do not like to give back.

“Oh, my God! I’m coming! Please God don’t let her drown! Anna!”

Mere seconds behind the struggling woman was a man in a canoe. The terror on his face spoke volumes. More time went by as he searched for any sign of this woman that had enchanted his heart, his soul. He had to find her!

“Anna! Anna!” He shouted loudly.

“ Please God, save her.” He whispered to the universe. “Please!”

Two gentle souls had found each other in an out-of-way park and without meaning to, had fallen in love. John could not believe they would be separated so soon after finding each other. He felt the tears at the back of his eyes welling. His shoulders ached from the desperate paddling, his eyes searching for his heart.

“Please, plea . . . Anna!”

He spied her flowing red hair glistening in the morning light. The only movement was with the water’s drift trying to tug it free from a branch.

Another foot and he could see a shoulder. It was deathly pale.

“Please . . .”

When the canoe was within reach John jumped out next to the body of his beloved. Immediately he felt the water dragging at his clothes, determined to pull him down. The canoe, caught by another branch, floated nearby. John’s hands trembled, unsure, desperate to know.

“Anna…” He barely breathed . . .

As he turned her body over an eyelid flickered. She was alive!

With that almost imperceptible movement John reacted. His training took over his actions. He checked her pulse: strong. Breathing: shallow but steady. Pupils: reactive. Small contusion on forehead. She was safe to move. She needed to be warm and monitored. He needed to check for other possible injuries.

The next few minutes became a blur. John was able to disentangle Anna and get her to shore. It may only have been a few feet but it felt like miles. He made sure she was safe and returned for the canoe. Those supplies could make the difference between living and dying.

When John and Anna made the decision to run away they left behind their lives as well as their cell phones. They were on their own now.

It took a little time but John was able to make a fire, make Anna comfortable and put water on to boil. He cleaned her wounds. They were minor and should pose no future problems. Her breathing was stronger but still she slept. John agonized over whether to leave her to find help or to stay. A little tea should help. While he busied himself with the mundane tasks of finding the tea and cups he was able to calm down. They would survive this. She would survive this.

His head was down, diligently measuring tea leaves into a strainer when he heard a sound. He quickly looked to Anna, still she slumbered. He raised his eyes to the forest a few meters away. His heart stopped. There, just beside a very full tree was the largest wolf he had ever seen. John had seen hundreds in his years in the Parks Services but never one this close and this . . .alive. He was afraid to breath! And then it moved.

Wolves have a reputation as true killers, vicious animals that maul the unwary for fun. Nothing could be further from the truth. Wolves are intelligent pack animals who care deeply for their young and avoid people as much as possible. And yet here was a magnificent specimen silently staring at . . .Anna? Normally an adversary keeps his eyes on an opponent but that didn’t seem to be the case here. Why? Before John had finished his thought the wolf took a step forward and then another. Then it did the strangest thing: it sat. With its head cocked to one side and its tongue hanging out it look just like a family pet.

John sat back on his heals. The movement didn’t disturb the wolf at all. It’s gaze never left Anna. It didn’t seem to be aggressive, more . . . supportive? Was John dreaming? After what seemed to be hours the wolf slowly returned to the forest. At that moment the water started boiling furiously. John was reminded of his duties and returned to them.

The hours did pass. John tried to stay awake to tend to the fire and to worry about the wolf but the inevitable did happen. The stress, fear and fatigue took hold and John slept.

He was dreaming. He felt cool water on his face, he was drowning! With a yell he force his way up, clawing for the surface!

“John!”

With blinking eyes the man in question came awake. He was confused. He quickly looked to where Anna lay and she was gone!

“Anna?”

“I’m right here John, I’m fine. Look someone’s dog has come for a visit.”

Someone’s dog? John came awake in a hurry with that comment. He looked towards the sound of his beloved’s voice and saw her with the huge wolf gently accepting her ministrations. She was petting him and tugging at his ears and he seemed to like it!

“Anna, Anna . . that’s a wolf! A wild animal! You have to get away from him!”

Anna didn’t move except to give her newfound friend a hug.

“I had such awful dreams and then I felt this warmth embrace me. I felt such love. Then I felt a wet tongue on my face and it was Samson. He sat by me while you slept. I think he was keeping an eye on us both.”

“You named a wild animal Samson?”

John started to laugh. It was so abrupt that both Anna and Samson were startled. Then they both joined in. Or, at least one did, the other gave the impression he was enjoying the process.

When the laughter died down the release was apparent. Then both John and Anna started to speak at the same time …

“I’m sorry!” “I’m sorry!”

“It was an accident. We’re both ok and we seemed to have gained a companion.”

Anna smiled at their new friend who promptly rolled on his back and presented his stomach for a rub.

John grinned at the two of them. A wild animal and a beautiful writer. What could be more incongruous and more appropriate? Perhaps Anna would write about a tame wolf named Samson in their new life. He would find an out-of-the-way park in which to work and Anna would write stories for children. All would be well. They had each other.

The end

Smuggler’s Cove

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I’m not quite prepared for my weekly post so I thought I would share something from a few years ago. This started out as a single story but grew into three due to very strong opposition. Seniors can be quite scary when they want something! So I complied. This is the first of the three. I will post the second and third on Monday and Tuesday. I’ll be back to regular viewing on Wednesday.

Pamela

Jonathan Edward Bellamy III. A name destined to sit in the Supreme Court after a spotless career as a criminal lawyer, or perhaps the head of a multi-national banking conglomerate with a profit margin in the tens of millions. Well perhaps Jonathan might have gone that route but not John. John was sitting in a ten-year-old truck wondering if his rent cheque was going to bounce, and that truck was sitting on a mountain pass that overlooked a pristine national park which that Supreme Court judge would kill to see. John figured he was the wealthier of the two.

Being born into a wealthy and prominent family brought with it a great many obligations that John had always balked at. People who knew he came from money were either anxious to be his new best friend or hated him for his presumed privileges. It had been hard trying to fit into that world. John didn’t like the phoney debutants or their mothers trying to make ‘good’ matches for them. He just didn’t belong to that world. He belonged here, where the air was fresh, the people were real and where one worried about rent cheques. When John walked away from the privileged life he also walked away from his wealth. That was fine with him. Money should be earned not inherited.

Today John was thinking about that rent cheque but he was also thinking about the tourists. Today was the first day of summer vacation and it had always been a trial in the park. High School kids brought booze, which was banned, and College kids brought drugs, which were worse. Parents brought small children and expected the Rangers and Park Attendants to be babysitters. Couples brought their pets and were indignant when they were turned away. They didn’t seem to understand that this was a Wild Lands Park with wild animals, animals that might mistake ‘Spot’ for lunch. It had happened. Not often fortunately. It really was amazing just how dumb some people could be.

It was almost time. The Park opened at 10 am and it was almost that now. John turned his ignition on and started for the main gates. It wasn’t all bad; there were a lot of good, decent people who genuinely wanted to learn about the bears, the deer, and the other inhabitants of the forest. They were the ones that made everything worthwhile.

As John approached the main gates, he could see the people waiting patiently for the gates to open. Not everyone was waiting patiently of course: he could see a couple of cars of what appeared to be college students. We had better flag that group. Maybe they will turn out to be biology students with a real love for the forest and it’s inhabitants, and maybe not. John heaved a quiet sigh; it could be a long summer.

He watched the cars entering the park. Movement near the lodge caught his eye. Red. Specifically: red hair, long silky, red hair. It belonged to a single woman who had booked a month at the lodge that was adjacent to the park. She was quite a looker Miss Anna Wilson. Now there was an interesting story. Young, attractive, women did not spend a month at an out of the way park alone. She didn’t seem to be meeting anyone and she wandered the forest trails quite often. Always alone. She used a cane and carried a laptop computer. Why? Jessica at the lodge said she was a very nice, quiet woman. She seemed sad some how. What was she running from? She had been here a week and John had spoken to her often, going out of his way to do so. She was intelligent, but not forthcoming about her past. Everyone was entitled to their privacy. Except John was curious.

* * * * * * * * *

It had been a very long week. There was the two-year-old who had burrowed underneath the showers rather successfully. That took a couple of hours and several staff members to bring to a satisfactory conclusion. Mom wanted to go home NOW. Then there was the diamond necklace that went missing. Why anyone would bring an expensive bauble to a park went beyond dumb. It was located in the husband’s jacket pocket. He was playing a trick on his wife. As for those college students, they really were here to study the local flora and fauna. Unfortunately, they were also studying the effects of some of their own personal flora, which was definitely illegal. They agreed to leave quietly, without the illegal plants. Another one for the burn pile.

********************

John stood at the top of the trail and looked down. It was steep, an awkward climb even for him. There was no way a woman with a cane could manoeuvre down to the cove. It was one of John’s favourite spots. Here, alone, he could think without any interruptions from tourists. He scanned the small beach and started to turn away. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a shape that did not belong. It was a woman. A woman with red hair and she wasn’t moving. Her hair was splayed out behind her as if she had fallen backwards. John started to run. It took him a full minute to reach her but she didn’t move. He looked for signs of an injury and softly called her name once, twice, three times. She stirred; eyes sleepy. She stretched like a cat. John sat back on his heels and pulled out his cell phone.

“Central, this is John. The package has been located and verified. All is well. Out.”

Anna sat up, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” John snapped. He was angry. This blasted woman had the unmitigated gall to make him fall in love with her, to disappear for a full day and then not even have the decency to be injured or, or, whatever. He had been worried sick and she was fine.

The object of his silent tirade was completely unaware of the effect she was having on him or the situation away from her little cove. For that is how she thought of this idyllic spot, as hers.

“John, did you know about this spot? It’s wonderful! It is quiet and serene. I have been able to write here so easily; it is almost as if . . .. John? What’s wrong?”

Anna had finally noticed the look on John’s face. The anger was apparent, and something more, concern?

“Anna you have been gone for almost 7 hours. Jessica is worried sick. Rangers have been out looking for you ever since you failed to show up at the lodge for lunch. And how the hell did you get down here anyway?” As he spoke John’s voice grew in volume until he was almost shouting and his teeth were clenched.

Anna smiled. She tried to hide her grin but failed miserably. Of course, this made John even angrier. She stopped listening to his lecture on the dangers of the Park and instead watched his face. It was a good face, clean-shaven with a slight nick under his jaw line. He was probably distracted this morning, thinking about the latest batch of tourists. He was always concerned that each individual reaps the most from their stay at the campgrounds. He wanted everyone to love the park as he did, just as she had come to do. Anna had come to the park to escape her life. She didn’t want to end her life she just didn’t want to live it any more. Yes, John had a good face, strong, his eyes were brown, a deep inviting brown. And his body, well…. Yes, he was definitely nice to look at and his voice, well he could read a phone book out loud and still enthral a crowd. At least a crowd of one. Anna stopped smiling. Was she falling in love with this paragon of manhood? She could not allow that. That was a dangerous trail she would never venture down again.

John noticed the change in Anna’s face. Had he been too hard on her? Dammit he worried about her!

“Anna?”

“I.. . I’m sorry I worried you, I lost track of time.” Her eyes were downcast, her voice cracked slightly.

John cupped her face in his hand, her beautiful face. She wore no make-up; she didn’t need any. There was no artifice to her. Everything she felt showed on her face. Right now it showed her dismay at alarming people and something else. John wondered what she was thinking, feeling. He took her elbow and helped her to stand.

Anna looked up the path. “It wasn’t so hard coming down, really, just slow. But it was definitely worth the effort.”

John looked at this woman that he had come to care for. They were both lonely people looking to escape their lives. Perhaps they were both here on this spot for a reason.

*********************

Coach Adamson wondered if he was doing the right thing bringing these boys to this park for the weekend. They didn’t know what had happened here, on this spot, thirty-eight years ago. Actually no one really knew what happened. Two people were gone. What they had found all those years ago was an abandoned truck and a sweater that had belonged to a park visitor. His father’s little sister. Had two lonely people run away together or had an accident claimed their lives? Coach looked out at the river, now shrouded in darkness. He had been warned that the currents near the centre of the river could be deadly. Had they been thirty-eight years ago?

“Hey Coach, does that Ranger want us to put out the fire?”

The Coach turned back to the bonfire and his charges, “What Ranger?”

“The Ranger you were just talking to with that hot chick. Wow I guess there are perks to working in an out of the way Park like this! The boys laughed and turned back to their fire and their questionable jokes.

The Coach turned back to look at the water’s edge. He saw clearly in the sand the imprint of a man’s feet and right beside them a smaller pair: a woman’s. He looked out into darkness, they were here . . . again.