Chase is On

"But I don't want to live up to my name!" The girl leaned closer to the mirror and tried to dry-scrub a patch of dirt from the tip of her nose. "I like it calm, and beside that, my mother is going to kill me!"

"You're exaggerating, as usual."

"There are things worse than death and that is no exaggeration."

"Your mom's a good egg. And is a bit of an adventurer herself. You can't tell me she won't be interested when you tell her--"

"Tell her?! Now I know you've lost your mind." She turned from the mirror and put her hands on her hips. "No one can know about this," she said, wagging a finger to punctuate.

"You can't hide this. Look at your uniform! When that winds up in the laundry, you think she won't know you didn't have a normal school day?"

"I'll wash it myself."

"Oh, and that won't raise a bit of suspicion. Beth Chase, you wouldn't know how to run the washing machine and once you asked your mother how to do it, she'd be on to you."

"Then you do it! Here, I'll change into my gym clothes." Beth slid the suspenders off her shoulders and started unbuttoning her shirt.

"No!"

"What do you mean, no? Come on, Tara. Please. I'll owe you one. What do you want? Name it. Anything."

"I want you to promise right here, right now that we tell our parents what we found today."

"And you'll wash my uniform?"

"Why?"

"Deal was, I promise, you wash my clothes, remember? I don't want to die twice. Once for sneaking in to Old Man Carter's place (they'll never believe it was an accident) and another time for getting my uniform filthy. Again."

"Then promise."

"I promise we'll tell our parents. There. Are you happy? You're going to have me killed. Hand me my gym bag."

Flying Safe

Log by Miriam Burnside, Aurora, Iowa
Close to the Equinox, Summer

Monday
I decided I wanted to learn to fly when I turned 45 and found out my vision wasn't what it used to be. I was afraid it would my eyes would get too bad to be accepted for flying lessons. Plus my field of vision was already too narrow. I was good at parenting. I had two sons and a daughter who I adored and who adored me, clear through those teen years that were supposed to be so terrible. Now they're living rich lives, but not in mine. It's time to cut cords and do something that will lift me out of the heaviness.

I enrolled at Lansford Air Park. Just in time. The new session started today and I got in the Tuesday/Thursday/ Saturday class.

Julian will flip out. Oh well.

Tuesday
Did Julian ever flip out! Won't pay for a fantasy that won't get used. Says this time I am on my own. Tomorrow I take over my friend Roxie's part-time job, noon to four at the local florist shop. Roxie's retiring. Isn't that lucky! It pays just enough for the lessons.

And my instructor? Oooh, la, la. I'm already flying. It's no wonder they make Mason wear that sapphire blue polo shirt. Their female students can't stand the thought of quitting, I'm sure. Even the middle-aged, over-the-hill ones. Whether they're really capable of flying or not.

I discovered today that I'm young inside still. Perhaps I can learn to enjoy my own company again.

Wednesday
Julian flew to Vancouver today for a business meeting and I wanted to say, "Won't it be nice when I can fly you where you need to go?" But I didn't. I wonder if I will ever fly him anywhere again.

The gardenias that arrived at the shop today were the most heavenly things I've smelled since new-baby-after-bath. One customer wanted boutonnieres and corsages made of them for a 50th wedding anniversary party. The scent made me drunk, I swear it did. My imagination kept slithering back to Mason, even when I dragged it back to dinner alone tonight and chastised it to behave. My feet actually danced to the piped-in music that I thought I'd forgotten the words to. It was a pure out-of-my-worn-out-body experience. I knew I'd like flying. I just want it to be safe.

Thursday
Even when my heart seems to be high on flying, I can ground my mind and I'm so surprised at how much technical stuff it can grab onto and process and remember. I read the text last night over my Lean Cuisine pizza and Zinfandel, and could have raised my hand on every question if I'd been brave enough.

I didn't even feel diminished when my boss told me the boutonnieres were all wrong and had to be redone. Will it ever be illegal to huff gardenia? I hope not. It makes for a lovely afternoon. I told him to dock my pay and let me take the ruined flowers home. I think I'll press them.

And figure out how to make up the lost wages so I can continue flying lessons.

Friday
Two things. Julian is staying an extra five days in Vancouver. To fish. I wonder how much that will cost?

Before I knew that, I told the kids they could come for the weekend. Allie, James and Roger, all at once. How awesome, and unlikely, is that? I hope they can keep themselves occupied on Saturday. I didn't tell them I wouldn't be home and I thought Julian would be there.

Saturday
Allie went with me to class. Mason didn't mind her sitting in. Of course not. She's trim, svelte, with thick long hair that curls to the envy of every woman I know.

Today I held my hand up for every answer.

Sunday
A hospital in Vancouver called at four in the morning to say that Julian had a massive heart attack. The kids are all flying up with me.Odd how this worked out. So glad I don't have to fly myself up there. I'm coming Julian. On a wing and a prayer, I am coming. And I'm sorry for all those mean thoughts I had.

Monday
Julian, how dare you skip out! I don't want to fly this life solo! Not yet. But I'm going to have to learn. I have this 24/7 class....

Tuesday
I didn't know what I was doing at flight school today. I don't even know how I arrived. Mason, easy on the eyes as ever, was acting young and stupid. I wanted to throw a book at him and tell him to grow up. I think I need a more experienced teacher.

Allie sent me to work after I broke down on the first phone call I had to make at home. She's taking care of things while I play with baby's breath, pretending it's Julian's.

Wednesday
The funeral is tomorrow. He'd planned it all out. I didn't even know. I wondered if he'd planned mine as well. It pays to have a flight plan I guess, because I'm useless. My chest muscles are tight and rigid, making it hard for my heart to beat or my lungs to breathe. They do it anyway.

I didn't go anywhere today.Of course, flight lessons are cancelled for me tomorrow. I will never fly Julian anywhere. Ever. I will never fly.

Grounded is safe.

Thursday
Thoroughly grounded. In every way. Funny, it does not feel safe.

Friday
"So what are you going to do now, Miriam?" What kind of stupid question is that? Am I supposed to know the answer?

Saturday
Allie took me to lessons. Someone told Mason what happened. His eyes had that poor-you look that I see everywhere else. I didn't want to see it here, but I supposed it is inevitable.

We flew today. I didn't know we were going to, having missed the last class.

Awesome.

Sunday
I couldn't sleep. I was so afraid the phone would ring and it would be something wrong with one of the kids this time. I even knew it was a stupid fear, but there was nothing I could do.

So I took a blanket outside and spread it on the grass. Flat on my back I began counting clouds, since they hid the stars. There was a sweet heavy scent on the warm air. I couldn't tell if the gardenias, baby's breath and roses were real or imaginary. I drifted off wondering what it would be like to fly in a night sky. No more scary than this life, I'm sure.

Monday
The flower shop is dead today and all I could find to do was study for a class I'm not sure I can continue. Flight logs. How important they are past, present and future, and not only for the pilot that keeps it. Others learn from it as well. So they say.

Tuesday
Mason is a competent pilot. His actions and his thoughts are precise and directed.

I helped my boss with a centerpiece for a banquet table today. It was amazing to watch the jumble of stems become something coordinated and beautiful.

There is hope. I just have to continue what I'm doing. Can I let what I'm doing decide where I'm going?

Wednesday
The air at work was full of roses today. Yellow and white ones that looked like suns and clouds. Under their magic I found myself moving through my day and thinking about tomorrow. Mason in blue, can you still teach me to fly?

Allie called. She hung up sounding less concerned than when she started the conversation.

Thursday
My flight plan. For now.
This day: Live it fully
This week: Plant a tree in remembrance
This month: Log as many flight hours as I can

The map:
Appreciate how Mason's eyes match his shirt.
Buy a Japanese maple, even though Julian always thought them impractical because the root system would ruin the septic lines. I'll put a small one in a large planter.
Buy a large planter.
Know that Julian would love the end result because he loved me.
Keep a meticulous flight log.
Be grounded.
Grow wings.
Learn to fly.

This time I am indeed on my own.

Friday
When Roger called today I told him about my plans. He wondered how much it would cost. His father lives on….

Answers are coming to me. I am living. Moving forward, continuing on. It's what I've always done.

Saturday
James called right before I left for lessons. He wondered if it was a safe thing for me to be doing now. I told him I didn't know.

Soaring is…indescribable. Take-off was smooth. Can't believe I'm in the air this soon.

I don't think I can give this up. I don't think I should. After the time and money I've invested, Julian would flip out. Wouldn't you Julian? Then there's Mr. Blue-Eyes. And my daughter who thinks it's wise to continue. Then there's the simple act of flying. And keeping a log.

Sunday
I believe my vision is improving.

New Story Starts Next Week!

So check back on Monday.

In the meantime, I'll be rambling on at my other blog: Today's Words.

Smiley Tie - 10

To start at the beginning of this story, click here.

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The rest of the evening was more fun than Anton had had in ages. That evening was the most fun he'd had in ages. They finished feeding the ducks and played at the playground, a sadly dilapidated affair that should have been overhauled years ago, Anton noted. When they were tired and thirsty, they wandered downtown for ice cream sodas at the soda shop.

Now, Herman, Joseph and Pauline had him skipping to the movie theater. Of course his shoes were not made for such frivolity and he didn't want to ruin his smiley socks. He tied the laces of his shoes together and did the same with the ankles of the socks, making it easy to swing shoes in one hand, socks in the other. When he skipped past Meeker's Drugstore he happened to catch a glimpse of himself in the plate glass window along with his three companions.

This is what Peter Pan is all about, he thought to himself. Staying young. He thought about the three children and how quickly they had formed a bond. So why was he stuck in a corporate world with nothing but stuffy old men who spent their afternoons snoozing in leather chairs at The Club? Why did he associate with airhead women who had nothing but position, power and money on their mind, when there were people out there like Pauline, who knew the precious value of loyalty and self-sacrifice. Perhaps he didn't fit into his father's world, because he didn't belong there. There was really no shame in leaving. Only the opportunity to be happy.

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10 Years Later

THE LUNDSFORD DAILY -- Page 14

LUNDSFORD--Lundsford's most eligible bachelor, Mr. Anton Brewer, son of the late business tycoon Harold Stevenson Brewer and his former wife Patricia, was married in an outdoor ceremony Saturday. He and the former Miss Pauline Turner were married by the duck pond in Tracer Park at 6:00 in the evening. Reverend Steve Stout officiated.

The bride wore a simple white satin gown trimmed with pearls. Her bridesmaids were dressed in yellow satin. The groom and his groomsman wore black tuxedos, their bow ties and cummerbunds patterned with yellow smiley faces.

The only flaw in an otherwise idyllic setting was the tendency of the bold ducks to flock around the couple.

Mr. Brewer has made his mark designing innovative playground equipment that gives a high priority to safety. Over the past ten years, he has become a self-made leader of the industry, establishing his headquarters in Columbus. Once his father passed away and left him the estate, Mr. Brewer returned to Lunsford and opened his first satellite company here, employing 400.

Mrs. Brewer is a speech therapy specialist. She reports that their romance blossomed when the pair collaborated on a special needs playground project. Rumor has it that they knew each other several years ago.


Their reception was held at the Brewer Manor, where the bride and groom danced shoeless; both wore socks patterned with smiley faces. The balcony was opened to the local school children who wanted to attend the festivities.

They will live, "happily ever after" according to the groom, at Brewer Manor, after a honeymoon trip to Disneyland.

The End

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Smiley Tie - 9

To start at the beginning of this story, click here

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In a few minutes they were on their way. Joseph and Herman continued to chatter on about things that required only a nod or a grin in response, and pretty soon Anton was lost in his own thoughts, his own world. Things were changing on a level that scared him and excited him all at once. But above all that there was Pauline and her courage. He still couldn't believe that given his ten years head-start, he'd never had the courage and grace to stand toe-to-toe with him as she had. It was impressive. She shouldn't be off crying somewhere; she should be standing tall and proud.

"There." Joseph had pulled on his suit coat to stop him, and was pointing to a little figure huddled by the side of the pond under a huge willow tree. The ducks were starting to congregate around her.

"Do the birds always do that?"

"Oh, yes. She's the duck-girl. She never comes here without something to feed them. Sometimes she swims with
them."

"I see. Well. Are you two going to keep a safe distance, or provide backup?"

"We'll provide backup from a safe distance," said Herman after a brief silence. "She'll come around on her own, you know."

"Well, it doesn't seem right. She stuck her neck out for me, and I at least owe her a thank-you. Which is what should have come before that "deal" comment I made."

Sure enough the two boys let him proceed on his own. Why he should feel this nervous about approaching a ten-year-old was beyond him.

He didn't say anything as he approached, but the ducks scattered, which made her scowl. Pauline didn't look at him. She continued to stare across the water. So Anton lowered himself onto the grass beside her and stretched out his legs.

For awhile he said nothing. He half expected her to get up and leave, but she didn't.

"I'm sorry, Pauline."

Silence.

"I was only worried about your parent's work here at the estate. Dad can be a bit vindictive at times."

"Who are you telling?"

"That's the only reason I asked you not to jump in. But in the end, I'm glad you did. You were terribly brave."

"Then why did you say what you did?"

"Because I'm stupid. I was still reeling from the entire incident. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it."

"Well, you shouldn't have worried. My parents are leaving the estate anyway. That's why I wanted to come see the party tonight."

"Leaving?"

"Yes. Dad is going to open his own landscape business and Mom is going back to school to finish her teaching degree."

"Will you be going far away?" For some strange reason, Anton felt his heart sink with this news.

"Oh, no. Just to the other side of town. I'm sure my dad will be back over here tending the lawn, same as he used to. But he doesn't like working for your dad much. I can understand why. My dad is strict, but he's never mean. Not like that. No wonder you say stupid things."

The ducks were beginning to congregate again. She picked up the plastic bag beside her and started tossing bread at them again.

"I can't believe I got you thrown out of your house."

"Oh, Pauline. Don't ever for a minute think that was your doing. That was the culmination of years of clashing between the two of us. It would have come eventually whether or not you spilled cake on his dance floor. Please believe me."

"I just can't imagine what I'd do if my dad told me never to come home."

"Trust me, Pauline, it may be a blessing. We might get along better if we're not under the same roof. It's time for me to start pulling my weight, making my own mark. You may have done me a favor tonight."

"Really?"

"In fact, I know you've done me a favor tonight. You've shown me the grace of courage and conviction. I want to grow up to be just like you. I've never had anyone stand up for me like that. I hope I can do it for someone else someday."

She looked at him then and grinned.

"That's much better. Can I tell the guys it's safe to come over now. Did you know they are afraid of you?"

"Yeah. I have to hold my own with the two of them or they'd run right over me. I'm a girl. I'm not stupid or anything."

"That, my dear, is an understatement!" Anton turned and motioned the two boys over.

"So you're going to let us live up to our end of the bargain?" Pauline asked. Now her eyes were glowing with excitement.

"That was the deal," Anton responded.
----------------
Tune in tomorrow for the final episode of Smiley Tie.

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Smiley Tie - 8

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"He just wanted to do something nice for us." She turned around to look at Herman and Joseph who had joined Gertie on the sidelines. Herman gave her a thumbs up, and that seemed to renew her determination. Pauline pulled her hand from Anton's and walked up to his father.

"I would never, ever have wished anything so awful to happen to you or your friends, Sir. It was so lovely and I would have loved to watch you dance all night long." She turned around to face the crowd that had gathered behind them.

"I am so very sorry for dropping my cake. It's ruined your evening and hurt someone who wanted to do something nice for me, and I would undo it all if I could."

She turned around to face his father again, and waited for him to speak.

"Well, that was quite eloquent. I hope he's paying you well for that little speech, my dear."

No one said a word.

"Gertrude, get these children out of my house. All of the children." He picked up his drink, waved to the band. Music began, the dead silence began to be filled by murmurs.

Gertie turned and walked toward the kitchen with Joseph and Herman at her side. Anton and Pauline followed along behind. She never said a word to any of them, and kept her arms folded across her chest as she walked. Anton hoped it was a small detail that wasn't missed by his father or anyone else looking on. Gertie was letting them leave, not forcing them out.

"Well, I tried to tell you it would be dull," Anton said, as they reached the kitchen.

Herman hid a smile behind his hand.

"That is such a lie!" said Joseph.

"Okay, maybe I should have warned you it would be dangerous," Anton responded. He couldn't help grinning himself. "So why don't you three high-tail it out of here before anything else can drop?"

"But that wasn't the deal," Pauline said.

"Look, little lady. Don't you talk to me about deals," Anton said, a bit more sternly than he intended. He was horrified to see tears well up in her eyes. Apparently she was just as horrified, because she rushed past him like a tiny tornado, ripped open the kitchen door and was gone like a beam of light.

"Now you've done it," Herman said.

"She'll be mad at you forever," Joseph added. "She never cries. Not in front of us anyways. And you've made her cry three times tonight alone."

"Well, it's not like I was trying to set a record or something. Honestly, I didn't mean to! We have to catch her."

"Yeah, right," he heard Herman say from behind him as he started after her. "You let her get too far ahead. Trust me I know!"

Sure enough, Pauline was already a speck on the expanse of the manicured lawn that stretched down to the gatehouse.

"Where will she go?" Anton asked Joseph when the two boys appeared at his side.

"Probably the duck pond. But she'll be as pleasant as a teased hornet. Best leave her alone."

"After surviving my father, I'm not so scared," Anton said. "Can you take me? At least get me close and then you two can split if you'd rather."

"Why not? Deal was we'd show you a good time right? Maybe we can get close to what happened in there! Long as you don't mind getting chewed out again," Joseph said.

"But we do need our shoes," Herman added.

"Right."

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Tune in Monday for the next episode of Smiley Tie.

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Smiley Tie - 7

To start at the beginning of this story, click here.

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This must be what it's like to walk onto a stage set, Anton thought as he crossed the room and people turned to look. The lighting seemed to intensify, to spotlight him. He nodded at the people who stopped to stare and smiled at the backs of those who turned away, unsure of what was the polite thing to do. His father stood out against the white backdrop of the area beside the bar where pictures were often shot with dignitaries. His face was hard, etched like weathered granite, and he made not one motion as Anton crossed the room, not on the sidelines, but through the middle of the dance floor, which was clean now, but empty. The thick silence of anticipation seemed to press in on him.

"A word, Sir?" Anton said. His voice strong and determined which was not how his knees were feeling.

"I thought you were asked to leave the premises."

"It seemed wrong to go without an apology."

"Didn't it seem wrong to throw the cake in the first place?"

"Throw the cake? You really think I stood up there in the balcony and chucked a piece of cake over the railing to see what would happen?"

"Given your track record, it wouldn’t surprise me. Why don't you explain it, then."

Anton chewed on his bottom lip. He'd backed himself into a corner. As long as the children were kept out of the picture their parents' jobs would stay out of jeopardy. Yet without them, there wasn't an explanation.

"It was an accident," Anton finally responded.

"There is no such thing." His father slammed his drink down on the bar. "There is carelessness, childishness, selfishness and sheer lack of respect for anyone or anything. That is your problem. I almost wish you had chucked the thing over the railing. A deliberate act might be better than the way you fail to pay attention. But now--"

His father closed the gap between them to inches. Anton stood his ground, all the while feeling the slickness of the floor beneath his socks.

"Now I'm going to get your attention. I want you to leave my house."

"And do what?"

"I don't care. Whatever you want to do. Just keep yourself and your foolish pranks and accidents away from me. Get out of my sight and stay out of my sight."

"But it wasn't his fault!" A determined little voice sounded from behind him, and Anton turned to find Pauline, her arms stiff at her side, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Behind her was Gertie, shrugging her shoulders and spreading her palms out in a helpless gesture.

"He's not careless and he's not selfish. He's kind and considerate and very, very brave," she continued, though the strength and determination was seeping from her voice. "I spilled the cake. It was my fault. Please don't be angry with him."

At that point the tears began welling up in her eyes. Anton went to her and stooped down.

"I thought we had a promise."

"I never promised. It wasn't right. I can't let you take the blame for something that was my fault."

"Let the girl speak, Anton. Why were you upstairs, young lady?"

"Don't you think this is something we could do in private, Dad?"

"Well the humiliation of my guests wasn't very private now, was it?"

What a horrible mess. Anton stared down at his feet and shook his head. He felt Pauline's hand slip into his, and she smiled up at him.

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Tune in tomorrow for the next episode of Smiley Tie.

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