Trisha Sugarek's Blog, page 119

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 22)

Chapter 11  (con’t.)

…………..“Of course you can. But I may be intruding. You probably have friends or family at home that you can confide in.”

“You ain’t intrudin’, Missus. I got Joe’s Mama to talk to but I can’t. Ya see, she’s had her share of trouble what with her son bein’ in here and all. And her youngest boy hidin’ out in Colorado.”

Hattie and Kitty sat silently for several minutes. Then as if a dam broke, Hattie began to speak in a low urgent voice. “I got this here bump…ya know? And they done got them a sample and now they gots to cut it out…the bad part of my… breast.” She whispered the word. “And I’m so scared I don’t know what to do. I don’ want to tell my Joe. I don’t know how. And he’ll be so worried and blame himself what with him being locked up in here.”

“I know. Men blame themselves for anything that they can’t control or fix. But, you have to tell him, Mrs. Washington. Think how he would feel if you went through this by yourself without telling him.”

“I don’t know how, Mrs. Lancaster. Thas’ why I’m sittin’ out here, trying to find the words.”

“First of all, please call me Kitty. ‘Mrs. Lancaster is so formal when we have so much in common.”

Hattie’s eyes went big and round. “We do? What in the world could we have in common, Missus?”

Kitty smiled and patted Hattie’s hand. “I had something very similar about five years ago. I found a lump and had to go in for a biopsy. Then the doctors had to do a lumpectomy.”

“Thas’ the word, Miss Kitty! For the life of me I can’t ‘member these ten dollar words.” Hattie’s chuckle ended in a sob. “You went through the exact same thang?”

“Yes, I did. The doctors found a small tumor and it was questionable. They didn’t want to leave it and then it turn into a cancer later on.”

“Ooo…that’s what I’m afraid I gots…” Hattie moaned.

“That’s exactly why you must tell your Joe. Then have the surgery as soon as you can, Mrs. Washington.”

“Please call me Hattie, Miss Kitty.”

“Hattie.” Kitty smiled again. “If the doctors are concerned let them take it out.”

“Did you lose much of your….breast?” Hattie hid her face behind her hands. “Oh, it’s so embarrassin’, talking about these private parts.”

“It’s all right, Hattie. We’re two women who have gone through child birth, the arrest and conviction of our husbands, and now this. You don’t need to feel embarrassed with me,” Kitty assured her. “And no, they probably won’t take any part of your breast. The surgeon will cut a small incision in the skin and just take the tumor. I have the smallest scar to show for the whole thing. You’ll see.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus, was there much pain?”

“Surprisingly no. I was just a bit sore for a week or two.”

“Oh, Lordy.”

“Hattie, it’s very important that you have this taken care of as soon as possible. Don’t delay. That’s your best chance of a good outcome. I’m certain that the doctors have told you this.”

“What’s a bunch of ol’ men know about a woman’s parts?” Hattie scoffed. “Oh Miss Kitty, thank you so much for talkin’ wit’ me. I feel so much better, me knowin’ somebody has gone through dis’ here trouble.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m happy to be of some help. Come now, dry those tears and let’s go see our boys.”

Kitty rose and taking Hattie’s hand again led her over to the security doors. Kitty called out. “Anne, we’re ready to go in, please.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. L.” Anne said as she pressed the button to open the doors.

The two women walked through the set of doors and entered the visiting room. More than half the tables were already occupied. They crossed to the podium where Brad sat, once again on duty.

“Good mornin’ Mr. Brad.” Hattie said.

“Good mornin’ ladies. How’re you today?”

“How’s your son’s leg, Bradley?” Kitty asked.

“Much better, thanks. He’ll be back on the soccer field before we know it.”

“I’m so happy to hear that.” Kitty replied. “Disgusting how quickly they heal at that age.”

Brad laughed……………..

*****

The next segment will appear Wednesday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to 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 blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 21)

Chapter 11

Kitty and Hattie

The black town car purred up the road and parked in the visitor’s parking lot. Kitty emerged from the driver’s side, dressed very conservatively in khaki slacks, plain white blouse, jacket and loafers. The absence of jewelry was clear and she only carried a small leather clutch for her keys and money. The wind ruffled her hair as she hurried across the drive and up the steps to the door of the prison. As she entered the reception area the guard, Anne called out.

“Hi, Ms. Lancaster, how ‘bout this early spring we’re enjoying?”

Over the past few months since her disastrous first visit Kitty and the correctional officers had developed an easy manner with each other. Kitty went through the sign in and search process quietly. They in turn processed her quickly and with respect.

“Hello, Anne. It’s a glorious day out there. The trees are actually budding out. Let’s hope it stays this way and it’s not just a March flirtation with nice weather.”

“Another hard freeze would be tough on everything. How was the drive down?” Anne asked.

“Not too bad. Traffic was a little heavy until I got well this side of Chicago.”

While they chatted Kitty tucked her watch into her purse and handed it over the counter to Anne.

“I think I’ll keep my jacket, Anne. It’s a little chilly in here this morning.”

“Sure Mrs. L.” Anne turned to a locker and put Kitty’s things in. She turned with the key and handed it to Kitty. “Was there much construction on your drive here?” Anne asked.

“A short stretch. You know Illinois’ highways, always a work in progress.”

“I hate running into roadwork. They seem to do more leaning on their shovels than anything else.”

Kitty laughed. “I know. I don’t know how anything gets done. But, somebody’s got to do it…the leaning I mean.”

Anne chuckled. “OK, you ready?”

The two women walked to the cubicle and Anne’s perfunctory search was quickly finished.

“All done. Pretty blouse, Mrs. L. Is it new?” Anne asked.

“Thank you. Yes, Elizabeth sent it to me from New York.”

“How’s she feeling?”

“Wonderful.” Kitty said. “Her husband says she’s glowing.”

“My second was like that.” Anne reflected. “But my first? Ugh! I was sick as a dog the first three months.”

As they talked, Kitty and Anne walked back into the reception area. “You can go right in.” Anne told Kitty.

“Thanks, Anne.”

Kitty turned toward the security door that led to the visiting room. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Hattie Washington sitting alone.

“Anne, why is Mrs. Washington sitting there alone? Why isn’t she in with her husband?”

“Don’t know.” Anne replied shaking her head. “I called her about ten minutes ago but she asked if she could sit for a few more minutes. She seemed a little upset so I let her be.”

“I’ll just check on her before I go in if that’s all right.”

“Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.” Anne said.

Kitty walked over to Hattie, whose head was down. She clutched a wadded up handkerchief in both hands. “Mrs. Washington? Is something wrong?” Kitty asked.

Hattie looked up, her brown eyes swimming in tears. “Oh! Missus…it’s you.”

“You’ve been crying. What’s wrong? Can I help?”

“No, no. I’m just bein’ silly, is all.” Tears spilled over and ran down Hattie’s cheeks.

Kitty sat down next to Hattie. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I’m just teary. I don’ wanna trouble a fine ‘lady’ like yourself. Go on now and see your man.”

Kitty picked up Hattie’s hand and held it. “There’s plenty of time for visiting. Please tell me, Mrs. Washington. Sometimes, just telling another woman helps.”

“Oh, Missus Lancaster, I gots me this problem and I don’t want to worry my Joe.” Fresh tears scored her cheeks. “I was tryin’ to stop these here waterworks ‘fore I went in. I can’t seem to stop my old eyes from leakin’ every time I think on it.”

“Whatever it is, I’m certain there’s a solution. Tell me it’s not one of your children?” Kitty asked.

“Oh no, Ma’am, they’s all fine.”

“You can tell me if you want to.”

“I can’t. You’s this fine lady and all…………..”

******

The next segment will appear Monday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to 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 blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs. 

“Monologues 4 Women” released!…and how they were created

      I am so pleased and proud to announce that my new book of monologues for women has been published and is available here and on www.amazon.com.

I woke up one morning recently and thought, “I’ve got some soliloquies tucked away that would make pretty good monologues.  This book is, I think, unique because all the contemporary monologues are original.  Directors get really bored and tired of the same old shoes like speeches from Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, Barefoot in the Park, Streetcar Named Desire, Pygmalion, View from the Bridge and others. Make them sit up and listen when you use something they have never heard before!

And that brings me to the point that I want to share with my readers out there who are writers or want to be writers.  Previously I was talking about my digging out some old and new work and turning them into a book of monologues.  Never, never throw anything away.  Open up that dusty old box of your scribbles that you have hidden away on the top shelf of the closet.  You might be surprised what you find and how much you like it after a year, five years or ten.  “Note from a Watery Grave” which I scribbled down back in 2002?….turns out it was pretty good with some additional editing on my part.  The end result was a new book.  My motivation: as an actor, I know how hard it is to find that perfect monologue for an audition.  How difficult it is to get the director’s attention and keep it.

While compiling this book, I kept remembering how I would go to an audition and announce that my classical piece was going to be Anne from Richard III.  The director (or audition panel) would roll their eyes and yawn in my face.  The ‘Anne’ that they were thinking of was an old tired thing that’s been done to death, when Richard confronts Anne over the coffin.  My ‘Anne’ was a conversation that I pieced together into a soliloquy and I was certain that they had never seen.   I got the same reaction from the director every time;  they sat up and listened!  And afterwards, they laughed stating that they were expecting something else and how refreshing mine was.

A final note:  I have included not only some classics (so that your audition will show contrast in your acting ability)  but also some original monologues for the African-American actress.

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 20)

 Chapter 10 (con’t.)

A spark flashed between them and Hattie jumped in her chair, almost spilling the tea. She blushed wildly and stared at her lap, brushing at a tiny stain on her skirt. Joe quickly handed her a paper napkin.

“Thank you,” Hattie whispered.

“Clora, I’d like you to meet my son, Joseph Ray. Joe this is my friend, Miss Clora and her daughter, Miss Hattie.”

Joe took Clora’s hand and said, “Miss Clora, it’s so nice to meet you.” He turned to the ‘goddess’. “Miss Hattie.”

“Joseph, your mama has been tellin’ us all about Chicago and your important job up there,” Clora said.

“Well, Ma’am, I wouldn’t call it ‘important’ exactly. I just got a promotion because I got my master mechanic’s certificate, is all. It’s a good company and work’s regular.”

“Well, my stars, that sounds important enough to me,” Ida Mae bragged. “Joe, there’s an empty chair there over by Rosalee and Ben. Why don’t you bring it over and sit with us awhile.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Joe walked over and snagged the chair.

“Sit here, Joseph, next to my Hattie,” Clora directed.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Joe said as he sat down by Hattie. “May I, Miss Hattie?”

“Yes, of course,” Hattie murmured.

“Did you enjoy the sermon, Miss Hattie?” Joe asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you live here in Clayhatchee, Miss Hattie?”

“Yes.”

‘Lordy, the ‘goddess’ was so shy. Both of us feelin’ shy….this was gonna be an uphill battle,‘ Joe thought.

“Oh, Clora, there’s Miss Clairee.” Ida Mae exclaimed. “Let’s walk over and see if she’s feelin’ any better.”

Clora rose from her chair and winked at Ida Mae. “Yes, let’s do. You children have a nice visit. We’ll be back in a bit.”

“Joe, hold my plate for me, will you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Joe watched the two older women walk away arm in arm. Sly old ladies, I know what you’re up to Mama. Joe grinned. The silence was getting louder and louder. It was evident that Hattie was not going to speak first.

“My mother said she thought you were away working in another town?” Joe asked.

“Yes.”

“What sort of work do you do if I can ask?”

Hattie continued to stare down at her lap. “Cleanin’ new residential construction sites, after they finish up with the buildin’.”

“Oh, that sounds interestin’.”

Hattie smiled. “It’s a dirty job, but the pay was pretty good. And it was satisfyin’ once ya got it clean.”

“’Was’?” Joe asked.

“Yes, the subdivision was completed so they didn’t keep us on.”

“Oh.”

“Thas’ okay though. I got me a few houses to clean here and over in Coker. That way I can help my Mama out some.” Hattie told him.

“Do you miss Chicago?”

“Not today.” Joe looked at her meaningfully. “But it surely is a pretty city, sittin’ there right next to a lake that goes on forever. And the people are real friendly for city folk.”

Joe gazed over across the meadow. People were beginning to pack up the food and start towards their cars. Silence again, Joe thought. She’s gonna leave and I won’t see her again unless I get a dose of some bravery goin’ here and just plain ask her out.

“Miss Hattie, I’m gonna be here another week or so before I have to go back to Chicago. I was wondering…um….could I?….”

“Yes, Joseph?” Hattie finally looked up, straight into Joe’s eyes.

“I was wondering if I could see you again.” He couldn’t look away. Her eyes were like pools of dark chocolate. Her lashes were the thickest, longest he’d ever seen. Her skin was glowing; creamy like coffee au lait. Dark, black coffee with lots of cream.

“Why, Joe, I would love to see you again.”

‘The Goddess had spoken. She would love to see me again. Does life get any sweeter than this moment?’ Joe wondered.

“Okay, then. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

Suddenly Joe’s mother was walking towards them. “Joseph time to go,” She called to him. “My chicken’s gonna be all dried out if we don’t get a move on, son.”

Joe groaned. Hattie hadn’t answered him yet.

Hattie smiled into his eyes. “Yes.”

‘Yes?’ Yes, what. Yes, it was time to go? Yes, the chicken was drying out? Yes, get a move on? WHAT?

“Yes?” he asked Hattie.

“Yes to dinner tomorrow. Seven?” Hattie asked.

“Yes! Wonderful.” Joe grinned and jumped up. “See you at seven. Does my mother know where your mother lives?”

“Yes.” Hattie rose and put out her hand to Joe.

Joe took her hand in both of his. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.” Hattie blushed.

They stood there, Joe holding her hand, staring into each other’s eyes. Joe’s mother marched up.

“Let go a that girl, Joe and take me home. My chicken’s gonna be ruint.”

Joe reluctantly let go of Hattie’s hand.

“Yes, Mama. Until tomorrow, Hattie.”

“What ‘bout tomorrow?” Ida Mae asked.

“Nothing, Mama.”

“Goodbye, Miss Ida Mae.”

“Goodbye, Hattie-girl. Tell your mama I’ll see her soon.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I surely will. Goodbye, Joe.”

“See you tomorrow, Miss Hattie.” Joe told her.

 ******

 The next segment will appear Friday.  Hope you return to find out what happens to Joe and Hattie and these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to 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 blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

“Women Outside the Walls” receives glowing reviews!

‘Told in both the present and past tenses, WOMEN OUTSIDE THE WALLS offers a bittersweet look into the lives of women that love incarcerated men. There’s laughter and tears but, most of all, there’s the strong emotional bond these women share.

This is an honest book, which means that it’s not always a happy book. It will touch your heart in ways that you wouldn’t expect and is a book well worth spending the time to read. You’ll come away with a new respect for women in this situation and a bit more understanding of why they continue supporting the men they love, no matter what.’ ~~Review~Freshfiction.com

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‘You can’t judge a book by its cover. I found this book by searching for African-American fiction. It wasn’t until the author described the characters as having blue eyes, and another as having blonde hair did I discover that this book was different (in a good way).

I was amazed by the women in this story. Kitty said it best when she told Hattie “we have so much in common”. Prison grounds definitely leveled the playing field.  At first I liked Alma and Charlie, and then I began to dislike them when t hey started making stupid decisions. I don’t want to give the story away. Read it for yourself, you will get a pleasant surprise!’

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‘I didn’t know about Trish’s history as a playwright or that this book is available as a Stage Play. I kept imagining the stage play while I was reading it because it moves along so dramatically. The characters, from a painfully neglected but important population, are well drawn yet full of surprises so the threat of cliché is constantly thwarted. The mark of great work for me is if it makes me look at life in a very new way. This book definitely does that. I highly recommend it!’

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‘I love this book! I have already given copies to friends and can’t wait to discuss their reaction to some of the circumstances that unfold in the story. Alma, Hattie and Kitty (as well as the men they love) became more than characters; they became women that I know or thought I knew. Reading this book made me realize that we make assumptions  which likely are no where close to what they seem to be. These women changed the way I view seemingly obvious realities. Everyone has a history which makes them who they are and shapes the decisions they make. But those decisions and their circumstances may surprise you!

Can’t wait for Sugarek’s next novel! It is sure to be another fascinating journey that I can’t put down.’

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To read more reviews go to:  http://www.writeratplay.com/category/review/

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 19)

Chapter Ten (con’t.)

…………“Mama, we gotta get outside before she leaves. You gotta tell me what her name is…”

“She who? What whose name is?” she demanded.

“Shhh,” Joe whispered. “Folks are gonna hear you. Please. Can you hurry just a little?”

“Stop rushin’ me. Everyone stays for the social after. There gonna be plenty of time to meet people.”

Joe kept silent and watched the jaunty feather as it disappeared out the door. They finally reached the preacher who stood at the door greeting his parishioners.

“Preacher Durham, I’d like you to meet my son, Joseph Ray,” Ida Mae said.

“Welcome, Joseph, we are surely glad you could worship with us.” The preacher said as he shook Joe’s hand.

“Thank you, sir, I enjoyed your sermon,” Joe responded.

“I appreciate that, son. Miss Ida Mae, I’ll see you at Wednesday’s meeting, won’t I?” the preacher asked.

“Yes you will, Preacher, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Joe said. “Come on, Ma, before all the sweet tea’s gone.”

Ida Mae laughed, “Boys never grow up when there’s sweet tea to be had. See ya’ll Wednesday, Preacher.”

Joe took his mother’s arm and hurried her down the steps and over to the tables set out in the grass.

“Joseph, stop draggin’ me around,” she exclaimed.

“Oh, no, she’s gone,” Joe whispered. He frantically looked around. “Quick, Ma, see if you can spot a little navy hat with a feather stickin’ up.”

“ Ya mean like the one over there under the live oak tree?” she asked.

“Where?! Where?” Joe’s head swiveled around. “Yes! That’s her. Who is she, Ma? Do you know?”

“Why yes, that’s Miss Clora’s girl. Name’s Hattie, I think. She been away, workin’.”

“Introduce me, Mama, please. Do it before she gets away.”

“My stars, child, what bug bit you?” She took a closer look at her son’s face. “Oh, oh, I think them ‘love bugs’ must be hatchin’.” Her merry laugh carried on the wind. Hattie glanced over when she heard it.

“Cut it out, Mama. Do I know Miss Clora? I don’t remember her.”

“That’s cause you ain’t never knowed her. Get me some sweet tea and a plate and we’ll go over.”

Joe groaned. “Can’t we eat after I meet her?”

“Joseph Ray, you know a good sermon always makes me hungry and supper’s a ways off. Now, get!”

“Yes, Mama. But while I get you a plate will you keep watch? Make sure they don’t leave, okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your ‘lookout’. Better than that, I’ll go over and have me a visit with Miss Clora and her girl while you get the food.”

Joe kissed her cheek. “You’re wonderful, Ma. Thank you.”

Joe rushed over to the tables of food while Ida Mae sauntered over to the big oak tree. People had put out folding chairs and Clora and Hattie sat together in the shade. When Ida Mae walked nearer Clora looked up and smiled.

“Miss Ida, come visit with us a spell.” Clora said. “Hattie girl, give Miss Ida Mae your seat.”

“Why don’t mind if I do, Clora.” Ida Mae replied.

Hattie had risen and moved aside to allow Ida Mae to sit. “Good mornin’, Missus Washington.”

“Good mornin’, Hattie. That’s just about the cutest hat I ever did see.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“How’d you like the sermon, Clora? I think the new preacher is just what we needed.”

“It was a good’un. These young people need to be reminded that material things are jus that….things!”

“Amen to that,” Ida Mae replied.

“Speaking of young people,” Clora continued, “who was that strappin’ young man escortin’ you this morning?”

“Tha’s my son, Joseph.”

“No! Tha’ couldn’t be skinny little Joey?”

“Sure ‘nough.” Ida Mae turned to Hattie.

“Are you home for good now, child?”

“Yes, my job was finished and they didn’t keep me on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. My son Joe is here on summer vacation visitin’ me.”

Clora smiled. “That must be very nice for you. Where’s he live now, Ida?”

“Up yonder in Chicago. He got him a real good job after making ‘master’ mechanic. My youngest, Elgin, can’t wait to graduate high school and move up there wit’ him.”

“So your son likes Chicago, Miss Ida Mae?” Hattie asked.

“As much as a body can like a big city, Hattie. He sure can’t find a good payin’ job like he got up there, ‘round here.”

Joe found a tray where he could fit four glasses of sweet tea and his mother’s plate of food. He’d also fixed a second plate of finger-food for his Mama’s friend and the ‘goddess’. He carefully navigated the distance to the oak tree. He walked up to them just in time to hear his mother’s comment about his job. Oh, Lord, she’s already braggin’ on me. Mama, please don’t make the Goddess think I’m full‘a myself, he silently prayed.

“Here’s your sweet tea, Mama,” Joe announced. “And since I could see that you were visitin’ with two lovely ladies I took the liberty of bringin’ ya’ll the same.” Joe passed the glasses to the other women.  Ida Mae took the plate Joe offered her and daintily picked at the food.

“I thought ya’ll might be a little hungry so I brought an extra plate for you and the young lady.” Joe addressed Clora.

“Bless you; I was feelin’ a mite peckish.” Clora told him as she took the second plate. When Hattie took the glass from Joe their fingers brushed……..

*****

The next segment will appear Wednesday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to Joe and Hattie and these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to 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 blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs.

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 18)

Chapter 10 (con’t.)

……….Next to the church was a cemetery filled with very old, modest head stones. Some so old the names and dates could barely be read. A few newer, marble stones were shiny in the morning light. Joe parked the car and jumped out. He walked around and opened his mother’s door.

“Watch out for that fancy hat of yours, Mama. We wouldn’t want it to end up in the dust,” he teased.

“You never mind about my hat, Joseph Ray. I been getting’ me and my hat outta this car since before you was a twinkle in your Daddy’s eye.”

“Ma’am. But I just love to hear you say it,” he laughed and kissed her cheek.

“Oh, you! Cut out that nonsense and take me to church.”

Joe and Ida Mae walked across the lot and as they approached the stairs they were greeted by many of Ida Mae’s friends.

“My goodness, Ida Mae, this can’t be your son, Joe,” Rosalee exclaimed, grabbing Joe’s hand. “Why my stars he’s a full growed man.”

Ben, Rosalee’s husband, slapped Joe on the shoulder, “It surely is Joe, Rosalee. Might I remind you he’s too young for the likes of you, a married woman.”

Everyone laughed and Rosalee blushed. “Good to see you, Joe,” Ben continued.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Ben. Good to see you again.” Joe leaned down and kissed Rosalee’s cheek. “How are ya, Miss Rosalee?”

Before she could answer, the single church bell began to ring calling the parishioners to service. Friends and neighbors began to file into the church. The deacons led the matriarchs to the front pews and helped them get settled. Joe was no exception and seated his mother with the other Church Mothers.

“Here’s your Bible, Mama. I’ll see you after.”

“Thank you baby.”

Joe stepped away and gazed at the older women seated in the pews. They remind me of a garden bed full of flowers, Joe mused. What he saw was pink, yellow, white, pale green and blue dresses. Most of their Sunday hats were in matching colors. They were so large that if one of them turned their head too quickly it would bump up against the hat next to them. Some of these women have been sitting in the front pews of this church every Sunday for over fifty years, Joe thought to himself. And more than a few helped to raise me. Some of the older ladies beamed smiles up at him.

Joe walked back up the aisle a few rows and sat down. The morning sun streamed through the stained glass of the windows and prisms of light bounced off the ceiling. Just as the choir filed in followed by the preacher, Joe heard light footsteps coming down the aisle. He glanced up and was struck down by lightning. His whole world slowed down until there was no one there except him and this vision walking toward him. She was dressed quietly in a navy blue dress with a matching flirty little hat. My God above who is this girl? Just how tall is she?

Where did she come from? I wonder what her name is. I know, Joe thought, she is the mermaid Goddess, Mami Wata come to earth. Come to steal men’s hearts.  Joe had taken a course, just for laughs, in African mythology last winter. Mami Wata was described as the most beautiful woman imagined. Her beauty was so extreme it was supernatural. Her clothes were so new they seem to shine and more fashionable than any designer’s. She possessed unimaginable wealth and dazzling jewelry.

Often she was shown with a snake coiled around her waist, its head resting between her breasts. Her hair was black and straight and her skin was light. Except for the snake nestled between her breasts, shiny clothes and jewelry, this could be Mami Wata. A Goddess come to earth to become a mortal man’s ruin. Joe told himself. My ruin. Oh, Lordy, save me now. Joe prayed. The vision walked on by, leaving a trail of gardenia scent that wrapped itself around Joe’s fast beating heart.

She paused in the aisle and took a moment to gaze at the crucifix that hung above the alter. Then excusing herself, she passed in front of others and sat down in the pew across from Joe. She stared straight ahead with a small, mysterious smile on her face. The choir sang the opening hymn. The preacher spoke his sermon. The reading came from the Book of Genesis: thus the Lord sayeth something, and somebody was affrighted, and did not cling to his figment, or something. The offering was collected. More hymns. It all went by in a blur for Joe. He knew he was staring and couldn’t help himself. He thought Mami Wata knew he was staring too, how could she not? She was after all a goddess.

Responding to his stare she glanced briefly towards him. Joe quickly looked down at his hymnal or Bible. He found himself blushing like a teenager. Finally the service was over and Joe jumped up and rushed down the aisle to collect his mother. Please don’t let her leave before I can find out who she is. What if Mama doesn’t know her? Joe worried all the way to the front. Maybe Rosalee knows. What if she is just visitin’? What if she’s gone before I can be introduced to her? Would the Gods really play with me that way?

Joe reached his mother and they joined the congregation as they slowly made their way up the aisle to the doors. Joe thought he could see the jaunty, little navy hat with the single feather bobbing along way up in front of him.

“My stars, Joseph Ray, what’s your hurry? You’re about to run down the people in front of us. Slow down, for mercy’s sakes…………..”

 ******

The next segment will appear Monday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to Joe and Hattie and these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to 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 blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs. 

‘My momma always said, “Life was like a box of chocolates….’ (part 2)

                                     As I was saying in part one……..We all remember this famous quote from Forest Gump……my box of chocolates is filled with words.. …….NEW words which I have never heard before.  They roll around on my tongue like a chocolate cherry cream out of my box of sweets.  Here are some of my favorite words that I especially like because of their history  …..

‘to be Masted‘: Traditionally, on a naval vessel, (when all vessels were wind-driven) the captain would stand at the main mast of that vessel when holding mast. The crew, who by custom did not speak with the captain, could speak to him directly at these times.

It also refers to the naval punishment of tying a sailor to a mast and lashing him with a whip. In today’s Navy, this treatment has been modified to a tongue ‘lashing’. In today’s naval tradition, ‘to be masted’ is a non-judicial punishment, wherein a disciplinary hearing is held and a commanding officer studies and disposes of cases involving those in his command.

Fortalice:  A small fortress.  A small castle-like fort. Many castles were built with defense as a first priority when choosing the location and the architecture of the structure.

Posit:  to place, put or set.  that which is posted. to lay down or assume as a fact.  (The mother of ‘posting’ in today’s cyber-world?)

Machinate/Machinations:  to contrive or devise artfully or with evil purpose.  Crafty schemes, plots, intrigues.

I’ll be ’positing’ more to this series of favorite words.  Feel free to send me some of yours!!

Blogging my Novel…”Women Outside the Walls” (part 17)

Chapter 10

Hattie ~ eighteen years earlier

“Mama!” Joe stood in the front room of the shotgun house where he had grown up and hollered toward a back room. “ Ya’ll ready? I got the car pulled up out front.”

Ida Mae walked down the long hallway that connected all the rooms, poking a hat pin into her large straw hat. The brim was covered in pink peonies, the exact shade of her dress and shoes.

“Stop that yellin’, Joe. I raised ya better than that.” She walked up to him and cupped his face in her hands. “Lordy, when’ja get so tall and broad, boy? I hardly recognize my own son.”

Joe hugged her tight and lifted her off the floor. “All that beef steak they feed me up north, Mama.”

“Put me down this minute, boy. You not so big or old that your mama can’t still whoop ya,” she laughed. “Come on, we gonna be late for the sermon.”

Joe turned and opened the screen door for his mother. He started to close the front door.

“Best leave it open, son, keeps the air movin’ in there.”

“Sure, Mama, but we’re gonna be gone awhile. Ain’t ya worried?”

“Shoot, boy, who’s gonna steal from me? I ain’t got nothin’ that nobody wantin’. Leave it open so’s we don’t come back to a hot box. I got your favorites for Sunday dinner; fried chicken and mashed spuds, greens and home-made peach ice cream for dessert. Nothin’ like a closed up house to spoil an appetite.”

Ida Mae took her son’s arm as they stepped off the porch. The paint was peeling down to bare wood and this was just one of the reasons Joe used up his vacation time to visit his mother. He had the back of the house painted already and would start painting again tomorrow. ‘I’ll have to get some sandpaper for these railings,’ he reminded himself. “What color you want the porch and railings, Mama?”

“I’ve always been partial to a bright white, son. I wish ya’ll wouldn’t work so hard; this suppose to be yur vacation.”

“Doin’ for my Mama is a vacation, don’ you worry none.”

Arm in arm they walked to Ida Mae’s car. The clean, waxed surface glistened a burgundy red in the hot Alabama sun. “Shoot, Ma, I can’t believe you still have this Chrysler.”

“Whas’ wrong with it?” she asked as her critical eye scanned the vehicle for fault.

“Nothin’. That’s what’s got me stumped. A nineteen-seventy-eight New Yorker Town car in mint condition.” Joe said as he opened the passenger door for Ida Mae and helped her in. “You know you could sell this for twenty times what Daddy paid for it and buy yourself a littler car that’s got better gas mileage and is not nineteen feet long.”

“What was good enough for your father is good enough for me. ‘Sides what I want with one of them plastic, oriental toy cars? This here automobile can fit in five of my best friends when we goes to the outlet stores and lunch.”

Joe walked around to the driver’s door and got in. He hit all the buttons to roll up the windows. As they pulled away from the house Ida Mae observed. “Ya ‘membered what your Daddy taught you about lettin’ the hot air out ‘fore ya start that there air conditionin’.”

“Some things ya just never forget, Mama.”

“How ‘bout the way to the church? Ya ‘member that?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Joe laughed.

They drove a mile out of the little town of Clayhatchee and turned left onto an oyster-shell road. Childhood memories flooded Joe as the salty smell of the sun baked shells drifted in through the vents of the car. The car passed through patches of shade and sun and a family of deer, up ahead, paused in the middle of the road before bounding across a shallow ditch and into the trees beyond.

“Now, Joe, slow down so them shells don’t jump up and nick the paint,” Ida Mae scolded.

Joe laughed. “You sound just like Daddy, Mama. He hated this road and cussed it every Sunday. I’d sit in the back seat and wonder what Preacher Beauregard would think of all that cussin’ right before church.”

“Your Daddy was a God-fearin’ man, Joe. But he was more afraid of wha’ this devil road would do to his paint job.”

They both laughed. “Slow down some more, baby, the road to the parkin’ lot is jus’ up here a bit.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Joe slowed and turned right into the small parking lot next to a white-washed clapboard church. The lot was filled with pickups and cars and people were already gathered on the long covered porch of the building. Some sat on the steps leading up to the opened front doors……

*****

The next segment will appear Friday .  Hope you return to find out what happens to Joe and Hattie and these  women living outside the walls…..

To receive each segment sign up for my blog.  Go to the home page; Scroll down to 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 blogs about writing will continue on Tues. and Thurs. 

 

Bertie, the Bookworm…..gets glowing review

‘….Being a great-grandma and a big fan of the Fabled Forest stories,  I read “Bertie, the Bookworm and the Bully Boys….” before I sent a copy off to each of my many grandkids and great grandkids.   I thought it was wonderful. The children I sent the books to are enjoying reading it. Hard for me to believe some of them are reading without the help of a parent. Sugarek makes a lot of parents very happy with her fairy tales and gentle lessons about being kind and not bullying others because they might be smaller or different.  I really enjoy the series because many of the characters return to each story and I look forward to seeing what they are up to now.  I highly recommend these fables to parents and grandparents…..’  Margaret C.  A great-grandma

 

To buy or review all the children’s books

click here 

“Stanley, the Stalwart Dragon”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Exciting Exploits of an Effervescent Elf”   ====>