Trisha Sugarek's Blog, page 114

Happy New Year!!

[image error]        Since today will be a day of hangovers, sleeping in late, a little of the dog that bit you, big screen football, over eating (again!), shoveling snow, and a few burbling burps and other nefarious sounds thrown in (if there are men involved), I won't be writing  my usual scintillating blog.

I'll just stop by long enough to leave you with these wishes:

a recipe for a hangover: two raw eggs in a glass of tomato juice with a couple of healthy doses of Tabasco  followed by gallons of water throughout the day.  Booze dehydrates you.  Or replace the tomato juice with Bloody Mary mix (a little of the dog...).

This is one of the few days you can ignore the clock and snuggle down under the covers and dream.....

Hope your team wins in the last minute of the game and......

Your snow shovel stays in the garage.

Go ahead, have that second helping....that's what New Year's resolutions are for.

What's a few bodily expulsions  amongst really good friends?

........and..... finally to wish you and yours a great New Year full of health, laughter and good writing!

Trisha

 

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog".   You need to confirm in an email from 'Writer at Play' .  Thanks!

Read my novel..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 45)

[image error]Chapter 21

 Alma, Kitty, and Hattie

 

“Baldwin, let ‘er go, you hear me?” Brad yelled.

“Charlie,” Alma cried. “Oh'm God! Please!

“Please let me go!” Kitty struggled against the arm wrapped around her throat.

Charlie yelled over the mayhem. “Shut the fuck up! Ya hear me? Everybody, SHUT UP!”

“Charlie, my God, what are ya doin‘?” Alma asked.

“I gotta get outta here! Shut up, all ‘a yous!” The knife blade dug into Kitty’s neck as Charlie shouted.

“Oh…no, please.” Kitty moaned.

Charlie jerked Kitty up against him. “Be still or I’m gonna cut ya.”

The other inmates and their families had crowded in the area of the exit doors. Some of the inmates murmured encouragement to Charlie while their women tried to shush them.

“Let her go, Baldwin.” Brad said. “Don’t make this any worse than it is.”

“Oh, Charlie…please…don’t do this.” Alma told him. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll get Chels back!”

“Everybody, shut up!” Charlie screamed. “I gotta think… it’s not supposed to be like this…I gotta figure this out!”

An unholy silence filled the room. Not making a sound, Kitty wept. The quiet was torn apart as a siren started up and a red light flashed above the door where the inmates entered and exited the visiting room. The security locks on the steel doors could be heard snicking shut. A voice came over the speaker system.

“Attention, all inmates, return to your cells immediately! This is an emergency lock down.”

No one in the room moved. All eyes were on Charlie and Kitty.

“Baldwin! Put the knife down and let Mrs. Lancaster go.” There was a tiny tremble in Brad’s voice. “You‘re gonna be in a world’a trouble if you don’t. Come on now, you don’t want to hurt her…do what I say and put the knife down.”

“Fuck off! You don’t give the orders here anymore …this knife says I give the orders!”

“Okay, okay, you give the orders. But, Charlie, this is really a bad idea.” Brad said.

“Shut up! Here’s my first order! Get all these people outta here. Call up the control room and tell ‘em.”

“I can’t do that, Baldwin.”

“The hell you can’t. You will or else.” Charlie put pressure on the knife at Kitty’s throat.

“Please.” Kitty said to Brad. “He’s going to kill me.”

Brad backed up to the podium. “Take it easy. See? I’m getting to the intercom. Just wait, okay?” Brad pushed a button.

“Sir. I have a situation here...”

A voice boomed back, interrupting him. “What’s going on in there, Kowalski?”

At his superior’s tone, Brad grimaced. “I have a hostage situation, sir.”

“WHAT? What’s that you’re saying?”

“Sir, an inmate, Baldwin, has taken a visitor. He is holding a knife to her throat. He wants the other inmates and visitors removed from the room.”

“Stand by one….”

“Yes sir.” Brad replied.

The intercom suddenly buzzed with static. “Kowalski, we are unlocking the exit door chamber so that the civilians can exit. You tell the inmates to move to the wall where their door is and do it immediately.”

“Yes sir.” Brad turned to Charlie. “You hear that?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Charlie raised his voice and said. “Listen up, you women and kids, as soon as those doors open I want you outta here.”

Several of the inmates grumbled. “We ain’t leavin’.”

“If you’re makin’ a break, we’re goin’ with ya.”

The sound system crackled to life.  “Attention. The inmates in the visiting room shall, in an orderly fashion, move to the far east wall and prepare to exit by your door. You will proceed to your cells immediately. Anyone not following these orders, exactly, will be written up and receive a minimum of fourteen days in restricted and visitation will be withheld for six months. Anyone who disobeys these orders will face charges and added time.”

The inmates grumbled their displeasure. The large steel doors began to slide open. Inmates hurriedly kissed their family members goodbye. As their loved ones filed through, the inmates moved to the door that led back into the prison. Joe and Hattie were the last to move toward the exits. Hattie wept quietly and as they walked, Joe comforted her in quiet tones.

“Hattie, you have to go. It’s all gonna be fine. As soon as I see you out that door, I’ll get back to my cell.”

“Joe, I don’t wanna leave you. That man is bad.”

Just as they reached the doors Charlie’s voice rang out. “Not you, Washington!” Charlie yelled. “You and your wife get your asses back in a chair.”

“Now, Baldwin, just a damn minute…” Brad objected.

“Shut up!” Charlie snarled at him.

Joe turned and stared at Charlie. “What the hell is goin’ on, Baldwin?” he asked.

“Do like I said. You and the missus are stayin’.” Charlie motioned with his knife to the chairs. “Sit.”

Joe turned and looked at Brad. The guard shrugged.  Joe glared at Charlie as he guided Hattie into a chair and sat beside her. The loud slamming of the visitors’ door echoed around the silent visiting room.

“Now tell control to get these bums outta here.” Charlie indicated the other inmates who stood in a loose group, still grumbling.

Brad depressed the intercom button again.  “Sir, the inmates are ready to exit the visiting room.”

“Roger that. Go ahead and unlock the door, Kowalski, we’re ready for them on the other side.”

Brad flipped the switch on his console that opened the door. With loud complaints and name calling aimed at Charlie, the inmates filed out.

Brad hit the intercom again. “Door secured, sir.”

“Roger that. We’ll get back to you.”

Charlie looked over at Brad and then he smiled with an evil glint.

“Hand over the gun.” Charlie said.

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

The next segment will appear Wednesday .  Hope you'll return to find out what happened in the visiting room and to the women outside the walls.....

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". When you get an email from 'Writer at Play' be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blog about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

Have You 'Heard' the News??

"Stanley, the Stalwart Dragon" is available in an audio book at:

www.audible.com   

www.itunes.com

www.amazon.com

Stanley, a very young dragon, has run away from home. He feels that he is a failure. As dragons go, he probably is. He’s kind, soft spoken, a good friend and can't for the life of him, breathe FIRE! The story is full of wonderful characters. A lady bug, named Persnickety is Stanley’s best friend and side kick. Emma, a young girl who lives on a farm and plays in the forest, with her friends. The loveable villain is a raven named City Slick, the Third. Thomas, the pedantic, sea turtle, and Cheets, the elf, are just a few of Stanley’s new friends.

One dark night Slick lures Stanley away from the forest and sells him to the circus. He is left chained, alone in a tent, until he breathes fire. The Queen of the Faeries gives Donald and Emma a quest; to find Stanley and rescue him.

While this is an adventure story full of laughter, it teaches children that no matter what, it is never a good idea to run away from home and is frequently very dangerous. The fable addresses bigotry, greed, loyalty and kindness to others. Ages: 2--10

Click here for a sample:  Stanley.Five Minutes.RetailSample

 

 

 

 

Read my novel..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 44)

[image error](continued).....Charlie and Chelsea had their own little world and whether she was there in it or not was of little concern.

“What’d ya think, Chels, could you teach a pancake to swim?” He asked.

“Kermmie, the frog, can sing.” Chelsea considered her plate of pancakes carefully. “I bet you could teach the pancake to swim, Daddy.”

Alma rubbed her eyes and sighed.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Charlie asked Alma.

“Tough shift.  Couple of the girls was out sick so we had to double up on the dancin’. My legs feel like two blocks of wood.”

“Well ya know what the solution to that is.”

Alma glared at Charlie over Chelsea’s head but kept her tone light.

“I’m not quitting my job, Charlie.”

Charlie stared at her in silence.  Then he turned to Chelsea. “Hey, Princess, you done with your breakfast?”

“Yeah, Daddy, I’m full as a tock.”

“’Tick, full as a tick’ ya mean.”

“Yeah, that’s it.  What’s a tick, Daddy, and why is he always full?”

“I’ll draw you a picture of one later. If you’re finished why don’t ya go in and watch your cartoons some more?”

Chelsea squirmed off her chair and ran towards the family room.  “Okay!”

“Hold up there, partner.  Come back. You forgot something.” Charlie said.

Chelsea hurried back to her chair and stood for a nanosecond. She bounced from foot to foot.

“May I please be excused?”

“You may.” Charlie smiled at her.

Chelsea rushed across the room.

“Tell Sponge-Bob I said ‘hello’.”

Chelsea stopped in mid-stride and turned back to her father.

“Daddy, Sponge-Bob can’t hear me.  He’s in the television.  Don’t you know anything?”  She said as she continued out of the room.

Charlie laughed. “God, what’s she gonna be like when she’s a teenager?”

“Don’t ask.  I don’t have the strength to answer all her ‘whys, when’s, where’s, at age six.” Alma sighed.

“You need to spend more time with her.”

Now that Charlie had gotten Chels out of the room he considered this conversation was long overdue.

“Please don’t start on that again, hon.”

“You come home in the middle of the night and sleep ‘till the afternoon.  You’re here with her six hours tops and then you go to work.”

“I  ain’t quitin’.  We need the money.  You’re not makin’ what you used to on the rigs.”

“I promised you when you were carrying Chelsea, that I wouldn’t leave and I’d quit the off shore work to be with you both.  Nobody makes that kind’a money on the mainland.”

“That’s why I’m workin’ dancin’.  Nobody makes that kinda money doing some office job.”

“It don’t make any sense me takin’ Chels to day care while her mother is here sleepin’.”

“Well, excuse me, for needin’ some rest when I get home.”

“That’s not what I mean.  I just want Chels to have her mother around more.”

“Why?  She’s totally happy with you, Mr. Mom.”

“It’s not the same.” Charlie complained.

“Look, I like my job, Charlie.  It’s something I’m good at; better than good.  Let’s compromise.  When she gets older like, I don’t know, pre-teen?  I’ll be around more.  Would that work for ya?”

“No.”

“Well, I ain’t quitting’ Charlie. We can’t afford it.”

Suddenly Chelsea burst back into the room. “Daddy, the picture on the TV died.  Did you remember to pay the bill?”

Charlie got up from his chair and started towards his daughter.

“Let me come and see baby-girl.”

Charlie turned to Alma, “This conversation ain’t over, Alma.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Alma murmured.

Charlie swung Chelsea up into his arms. “Maybe Sponge-Bob broke it.”

“Maybe you forgot to pay the bill, Daddy.”

“Chelsea, where did you get this very serious streak? Certainly not from Mommy.  What do you know about payin’ bills and such?”

“I help you lick the envelopes, Daddy, when you pay for my TV.”

“Oh, right, I forgot you’re my ‘letter-licker’” he said as they walked out of the room.

Charlie paused in the doorway and looked back at Alma. “I’m thinkin’ of comin’ by the club tonight and seeing your new number.”  He told her in the way of a peace offering.  “That okay with you?”

Alma’s smile lit up the kitchen.  “Sure baby, I’d like that.”

“Does that mean I get a play date with Janie?” Chelsea piped up.

Charlie kissed the top of her head.  “Sure, baby, let’s go call her right now and see if she can come over to play tonight?”

“Cool beans, Daddy. I love Janie.” She looked up coyly at her father. “Do I get to dial your cell and ask her myself?”

“You bet, sweetheart.”

***********

The next segment will appear Monday .  Hope you'll return to find out what happened to the women outside the walls.....

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". When you get an email from 'Writer at Play' be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blog about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

 

 

 

Auld Lang Syne...a hodge-podge of memories

It's that time of year....Auld Lang Syne or as the Scotsman/poet, Robbie Burns would write,  "old long since".  And I'm in the mood to tell a story.

Christmas Eve I was in the grocery store buying flowers for a hostess gift (big Irish family had invited me to share their Christmas dinner), some mini-cupcakes for the same event and some fruit.  As I wandered toward the produce section it suddenly struck me that for every woman in the store there were at least ten men shopping.  I smiled to myself as I pictured 'Mama' in the kitchen prepping food for the big day and realizing she had forgotten to buy some ingredient.  Yelling for her husband as she dashed off a small list, he is sent off to the store with a final,  "....and hurry!"

I noticed a middle-aged man walking away from his cart which was  blocking the apples, of course.  Where was he going?  To the scale?  Who weighs out their produce anymore?  Apparently this man did.  As I picked out my four Fiji apples, he hurried back, smiled and moved his cart, saying, "can you believe how much it costs to eat healthy?"  I laughed and remarked how the red delicious apples were so much tastier out of state.  That  I was from Washington and I was convinced that they shipped the best of our delicious apples to other markets.  We easily fell into swapping stories.  He reminisced how, as a boy in upstate New York, his family would buy a bushel of apples, cheap, from a local orchard.  They would store them in their naturally climate-controlled cellar and have fresh apples the entire winter. We wished each other 'happy holidays' and went our separate ways.

           As I drove home, in a very 'Auld Lang Syne' kind of food-mood, I  remembered things from my long ago youth at  holiday time.  Especially my mother's traditions in the kitchen.  Christmas dinner was a big stuffed turkey with all, and I do mean all, the trimmings.  Dinner began with a 'shrimp cocktail'.  If there was fresh shrimp (and there had to have been; we lived in the Pacific Northwest for goodness sakes); my mother had never heard of them.  Canned shrimp filled two third's of a martini glass, topped with her homemade cocktail sauce (ketchup with horseradish and minced celery).  A sprig of parsley  on top and the glass was then placed on a paper doilie covered saucer.  On the saucer was ONE, (never two or three) Ritz cracker.

The sage, giblet stuffing was made from scratch and that means my mother saved the heels of bread loaves for weeks. I've never tasted dressing as good since.  She would make the usual trimmings, gravy from the turkey drippings, green beans (out of a can, of course) flavored with bits of boiled bacon, baked sweet potatoes, and jellied cranberry sauce.  She considered whole berry cranberry sauce savage.  Home made biscuits and mashed potatoes.  And then the pièce de résistance...........her oyster dressing.  Heaven in a bite!

Not being a particularly religious family the blessing would be short.  We would toast each other with Manischewitz  wine. A wine connoisseur she was not!  And I never knew why a Kosher red wine was part of her tradition.  As a little girl I was served one part wine and five parts water.  I felt very grown up drinking my 'wine'.

As dishes were passed around the table,  someone would always mention my mother's off colored joke about a "boarding house reach".  It went like this:  My mother, a stickler for good manners, would instruct us that a 'boarding house reach' was when you could 'reach' for something on the table and at least one cheek remained on the seat of your chair.  That was an acceptable 'reach' and not bad manners. Otherwise, you must ask politely for someone to pass down what you wanted.

I was never certain whether she had run a boarding house or had just lived in one sometime during her 1920's flapper, bar owner, professional bowler, speckled younger days.  If she had run a bordello it would not have surprised me!    Miss you, Mom!

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

Footnote:  "Auld Lang Syne"  is a Scots poem written by Robert Burns in 1788 and set to the tune of a traditional folk song (Roud # 6294). It is well-known in many countries, especially in the English-speaking world; its traditional use being to celebrate the start of the New Year at the stroke of midnight. By extension, it is also sung at funerals, graduations and as a farewell or ending to other occasions.

The song's Scots title may be translated into English literally as "old long since", or more idiomatically, "long long ago", "days gone by" or "old times".

 

Read my novel..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 43)

[image error] Chapter 20

Alma ~ ten years ago

"Mommy, Mommy! Wake up! It’s breaf’ist! Daddy made us somethin’ really special!”

Six year old Chelsea bounced up on the bed and jumped on Alma buried under the comforter. She wore a pink and white jumper over a pink blouse. Pink bows were tied in her hair. She was shoeless wearing pink and white stripped socks. Leaning against the door-frame, Charlie stood in the doorway grinning.

“Tell Mommy what we made, Chels.”

“Banana-dana pancakes! Your favorite, Mommy!”

Alma groaned from under the covers and one hand and arm came out and grabbed Chelsea. As the child squealed in delight the arm pulled her under the covers and she disappeared. Charlie could hear their muffled whispers.

“Shh….” Alma told Chelsea. “If we’re real quiet maybe he will go away and we can have a nap.”

“Mommy, I don’t need a nap. Its morning…I’ve been sleeping all night.”

“Oh. Well, it was worth a try. Peek out and see if he’s gone.”

Chelsea blond hair and big green eyes were all that could be seen as she peeked out at him. Charlie grinned at her and made a face. Chelsea giggled at him and darted back under the covers.

“He’s still there, Mommy.”

“Darn it! What does he want, do you know?”

Charlie sauntered over to the bed and sat down.

“He wants to feed you and your daughter banana pancakes.” He began tickling Chelsea through the covers and she erupted in to more giggles.

“Daddy, stop!” Chelsea laughed. “Stop! I’m gonna wet Mommy’s bed.”

Alma pushed back the comforter and laughed up into Charlie’s face. “Good morning! What time is it?”

“Chels, you’re a big girl, tell Mommy how late it is.”

Chelsea looked at the clock on the bedside table.

“The little hand is on the one and the big hand is on ….six, seven, eight…. the nine!”

“Good girl. You are so smart.” Charlie praised her.

Alma groaned. “Do you two scallywags have any idea what time I got to bed this morning?”

“I’m not a scallywag, Mommy, I’m ‘Daddy’s little girl’.”

“You tell her, Chels.” Charlie laughed.

“Well, I can see that I’m outnumbered. No more sleep today for this hard workin’ Mommy.”

She nuzzled Chelsea’s neck. God, I will never tire of my daughter’s powdery, sweet smell. How did I ever deserve this little miracle? Alma threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Throw me my robe, will ya, hon?”

Charlie reached over and took her robe off the arm of a chair and handed it to her. Alma slipped into it and stood.

“Now, can we have banana-dana pancakes?” Chelsea asked. “Daddy says they’re gonna get cold if we don’t hurry, Mommy.”

“Two minutes in the bathroom if you don’t mind and then I’ll be down.”

As Alma walked across the room, Chelsea stood up on the bed and began to bounce in earnest. Charlie rose and walked a couple of feet from the bed. That was Chelsea’s cue and she bounced one more time and jumped the short distance into Charlie’s waiting arms.

“Cowabunga!” She screamed.

Alma turned at the bathroom door. “One of these days, you two, you’re gonna break my bed and then what?”

“Tell her, Chels.” Charlie grinned at his daughter.

“We sleep on the floor like bears!” Chelsea giggled.

Charlie turned to the bedroom door with Chelsea in his arms.

“We’ll see ya downstairs. Don’t keep our banana-dana pancakes waiting. We’re not gonna save any for you, are we Chels?”

Chelsea looked at her mother very seriously. “I’ll save you some, Mommy!”

* * * *

“Ugh! Your pancakes are swimming in maple syrup, Chels.” Alma remarked.

Charlie leaned over and inspected Chelsea’s plate.

“Is that the back stroke or the dog paddle?” he asked.

“Mommy, pancakes can’t swim. And I love the syrup, especially the blueberry kind.”

“Sorry, kid, we were all out.” Charlie told her. “But your second favorite is maple, right?”

“Second favorite, but my bestest favorite is blueberry. We need to go to the store Daddy if you’re out of it.” Chelsea chided him.

“Okay, pumpkin, maybe later today.”Alma sipped her strong, black coffee and let the conversation whirl around her.

**********

The next segment will appear Friday .  Hope you'll return to find out what happened to the women outside the walls.....

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". When you get an email from 'Writer at Play' be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blog about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

 

Happy Holidays!!

[image error][image error]Happy
Holidays!
Hope you are
writing a
little bite during this busy
time…
…….   and wishing you and
yours a Happy New Year! [image error]   Trisha

Trish

[image error]

Book Review "Sea Change"

[image error] Ranking: 1 quill

Wish I could give this book a better review.  Where other reviewers site White's excellent 'sense of place' I found it redundant and excessive.  It seemed to me its purpose was more of an attempt to bolster a weak story plot.

I found the heroine's motives and challenges over worked.  There wasn't just one weak, (victim-type) woman in the story; they all seemed, to different degrees, victims.  I kept waiting to see one stand up to their man and to what life had dealt out to them and kick some butt. Alas, it never happened.

I have enjoyed some of Karen White's work but she is inconsistent.  I was unable to finish the last few chapters of this story and that's a rarity for me.   Sorry, Karen.

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". When you get an email from 'Writer at Play' be certain to confirm.  Thanks!---

Book Review “Sea Change”

[image error] Ranking: 1 quill

Wish I could give this book a better review.  Where other reviewers site White’s excellent ‘sense of place’ I found it redundant and excessive.  It seemed to me its purpose was more of an attempt to bolster a weak story plot.

I found the heroine’s motives and challenges over worked.  There wasn’t just one weak, (victim-type) woman in the story; they all seemed, to different degrees, victims.  I kept waiting to see one stand up to their man and to what life had dealt out to them and kick some butt. Alas, it never happened.

I have enjoyed some of Karen White’s work but she is inconsistent.  I was unable to finish the last few chapters of this story and that’s a rarity for me.   Sorry, Karen.

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you’ll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on “join my blog”. When you get an email from ‘Writer at Play’ be certain to confirm.  Thanks!—

Read my novel..."Women Outside the Walls" (part 42)

(continued) ..........“I took a note to school saying she was sick.”

“Christ, Alma!” Charlie almost wept with frustration.

“Well, she’d get suspended if they thought she was skipping again, Charlie.”

“What a hair brained idea…”

“I kept lookin’ everywhere I could think. Then I figure, I’m gonna see you in just a few days and you can help me figure out what to do.”

“Shit! I gotta get outta here!”

“I knew you were gonna be so mad at me. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, hon.” Tears filled her eyes and ran down her face in black tracks from her mascara. “She’s my daughter too and I didn’t know what ‘ta do, Charlie.”

“Christ, Alma, don’t cry. I can’t stand it when you cry.”

“I’m tryin’ baby, I really am. She’s missin’ and you’re mad at me and I don’t know where else to look.”

“Chelsea’s only fifteen.” Charlie thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Sixteen.” Alma corrected him.

“Rick’s what? Forty? Don’cha remember what he tried to pull last year? Where’s yer brain?”

“Rick’s thirty-five. And he claimed he didn’t mean anythin’ by that last summer. He said Chels over-reacted.”

“Please, Alma, do yourself and me a favor and don’t try to defend that son of a bitch. Now listen, ya gotta go to the cops, file a report that she's missin'.”

“Is that what I should do, hon? I can’t go ‘til Monday.”

“You go in and you tell them that Rick’s missin’ too, ya hear me, Alma? You tell em’ you think he’s kidnapped her.”

“But he didn’t! I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

“Alma! For fuck's sake!”

“But, what if Chelsea just run off with him and he didn’t do nothin‘?”

“Ya ever heard of crossin’ a state line with a minor? Look! You do what I say! The cops are gonna treat a kidnappin’ much more serious than just another run-away. You got that?”

“But…”

“Ya got that, Alma?”

“Sure, baby, okay.”

“Christ, what am I gonna do, stuck in here? I gotta get out!”

“Well, I don’t see how yer gonna do that, Charlie. Yer just gonna get into more trouble and get more time added to your sentence.”

“Will you just shut up, please?” Charlie growled. “What kind’a mother are you, anyway?”

“I’m a good mother, for your information. I do the best I can with…”

Charlie jumped up and began to pace again. “Just shut up, will ya? Lemme think, for Chrissakes! I gotta find a way out!”

“Back in your chair, Baldwin.” Brad started to rise from his chair. “Do it now, unless ya gotta go to the toilet or somethin‘.”

Charlie ignored Brad’s instruction. He paced in wider circles.

“Charlie, please…” Alma said.

“Sit down, Baldwin! Now!”

Charlie waved Alma off and continued to pace. Suddenly he realized that he was behind ‘the rich bitch’. Look at her sitting there, he seethed, her spine ‘finishing school’ straight. Expensive clothes, designer hair-do. So much fuckin’ money she could buy the world. She’s too good to look at me. Just sits there watching that fuckin’ door.  Charlie leaned over, his hands on his bent knees. He felt faint with the frustration and fury that pounded in his head. When he stood up he held a short, deadly sharp shank in his hand. He stepped up behind Kitty and grabbed her.

“Get the fuck up, bitch!”

“Charlie!” Alma screamed.

He lifted Kitty out of the chair and held the knife to her throat. Kitty screamed. As he spoke, he quickly backed up, weaving between tables, to the far wall. Pandemonium broke out. Other inmates and their visitors scattered. Brad jumped to his feet and started around the podium. Charlie reached the back wall and held Kitty in front of him. Joe grabbed Hattie by the arm, pulling her out of her chair and moved them both away from Charlie.

“Let me go!” Kitty screamed. “Oh, my God. Help! Someone do something!”

“Shut up! Shut up or I'll cut ya!” Charlie screamed in Kitty’s ear.

“Help! Help me!” Kitty continued to scream.“Please, don't hurt me!”

***********

The next segment will appear Monday .  Hope you'll return to find out what happened to Kitty  and the other women outside the walls.....

To receive my posts sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; On the right side you'll see a box where you can enter your email address. Click on "join my blog". When you get an email from 'Writer at Play' be certain to confirm.  Thanks!

PS. my blog about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.