The Third Option - Part 3
This is the third part of my new novel titled "The Third Option" which is expected to be released in May.
David woke up early the next morning and laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He felt anxious and couldn’t sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, he decided to get up and go for a run.
When he stepped out the back door of their house, he was surprised to see his grandmother already out in the yard raking leaves. He headed over to say good morning.
His grandmother was startled by his arrival and she appeared somewhat disoriented. “Oh, for a second there, I thought you were…”
She didn’t finish her thought, but David knew what had happened. Ever since he was a kid, people had told him he looked like, sounded like, and even moved like his Uncle Alan. His uncle had died in a mysterious plane crash a few years earlier.
“Sorry, Grandma. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He noticed the far-away look in her eyes. “You still think about Uncle Alan?”
She averted her eyes but David could see them tearing up. “Every day,” she said. She picked up a bunch of leaves and stuffed them into a huge bag.
“What are you doing up so early?” David asked.
“I’m always up this early. I didn’t want to wake anybody so I came out to work in the yard.” She stuffed a few more leaves into the bag. “Why are you up? Have you got a practice this morning?”
David was a world-class soccer player, or more correctly, some people used to think he was going to become a world-class soccer player. They didn’t think that anymore. He was technically still a member of the Canadian National team, but was listed as being on the injury reserve list, out indefinitely.
“No, the coaches still won’t let me attend regular practices. They’re worried about concussions.”
His grandmother winced as she stood up and straightened her back to look at him. “I thought the doctor cleared you to play.”
“He did, but they won’t let me practice until the team physicians review everything.”
He knew they referred to him as the kid who got shot in the head in a bizarre incident almost a year earlier. Technically, the bullet had entered his chest just below the collarbone, exited out of his shoulder and then lodged in the base of his skull. The surgeons had put him into a coma before tackling the risky operation to remove the bullet. Everything had gone well, but he was now considered damaged goods.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
“There’s not much I can do – except wait.” David picked up the bag of leaves his grandmother had filled and carried it over and placed it beside two others. “I feel like someone pressed the pause button on my life and there’s nothing I can do until they hit the play button again. I can’t play soccer until the doctors give their okay. I can’t go back to university until next term because the courses I want aren’t offered until then. And my love life is in the toilet.”
David felt his face flush. He hadn’t planned on sharing his frustrations about his love life with his grandmother.
“What about Heather? You know, that girl from New York? I thought you two were sweet on each other.”
His grandmother had always referred to her by her given name. But David called her Bronx. He had met her at university. She was short, brassy and spoke with the Bronx accent of a dockworker. It was true – David was infatuated with her – and he thought she felt the same way about him – but that had all ended when her father had taken her back to New York after the shooting. He felt it was too dangerous for his daughter to hang around someone who snipers were using for target practice. He was probably right.
“I don’t think her father wants me to see her anymore,” David said. “Besides, I’m here and she’s in New York.”
“No one’s life should be stuck on pause,” his grandmother said. “If you want something to happen, sometimes you have to make it happen. It’s a small world. New York is only an hour away by plane.” She came over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But you do whatever you think is best. You don’t want to end up as old as I am and be thinking about what you could have done, or should have done.”
David woke up early the next morning and laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He felt anxious and couldn’t sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, he decided to get up and go for a run.
When he stepped out the back door of their house, he was surprised to see his grandmother already out in the yard raking leaves. He headed over to say good morning.
His grandmother was startled by his arrival and she appeared somewhat disoriented. “Oh, for a second there, I thought you were…”
She didn’t finish her thought, but David knew what had happened. Ever since he was a kid, people had told him he looked like, sounded like, and even moved like his Uncle Alan. His uncle had died in a mysterious plane crash a few years earlier.
“Sorry, Grandma. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He noticed the far-away look in her eyes. “You still think about Uncle Alan?”
She averted her eyes but David could see them tearing up. “Every day,” she said. She picked up a bunch of leaves and stuffed them into a huge bag.
“What are you doing up so early?” David asked.
“I’m always up this early. I didn’t want to wake anybody so I came out to work in the yard.” She stuffed a few more leaves into the bag. “Why are you up? Have you got a practice this morning?”
David was a world-class soccer player, or more correctly, some people used to think he was going to become a world-class soccer player. They didn’t think that anymore. He was technically still a member of the Canadian National team, but was listed as being on the injury reserve list, out indefinitely.
“No, the coaches still won’t let me attend regular practices. They’re worried about concussions.”
His grandmother winced as she stood up and straightened her back to look at him. “I thought the doctor cleared you to play.”
“He did, but they won’t let me practice until the team physicians review everything.”
He knew they referred to him as the kid who got shot in the head in a bizarre incident almost a year earlier. Technically, the bullet had entered his chest just below the collarbone, exited out of his shoulder and then lodged in the base of his skull. The surgeons had put him into a coma before tackling the risky operation to remove the bullet. Everything had gone well, but he was now considered damaged goods.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
“There’s not much I can do – except wait.” David picked up the bag of leaves his grandmother had filled and carried it over and placed it beside two others. “I feel like someone pressed the pause button on my life and there’s nothing I can do until they hit the play button again. I can’t play soccer until the doctors give their okay. I can’t go back to university until next term because the courses I want aren’t offered until then. And my love life is in the toilet.”
David felt his face flush. He hadn’t planned on sharing his frustrations about his love life with his grandmother.
“What about Heather? You know, that girl from New York? I thought you two were sweet on each other.”
His grandmother had always referred to her by her given name. But David called her Bronx. He had met her at university. She was short, brassy and spoke with the Bronx accent of a dockworker. It was true – David was infatuated with her – and he thought she felt the same way about him – but that had all ended when her father had taken her back to New York after the shooting. He felt it was too dangerous for his daughter to hang around someone who snipers were using for target practice. He was probably right.
“I don’t think her father wants me to see her anymore,” David said. “Besides, I’m here and she’s in New York.”
“No one’s life should be stuck on pause,” his grandmother said. “If you want something to happen, sometimes you have to make it happen. It’s a small world. New York is only an hour away by plane.” She came over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But you do whatever you think is best. You don’t want to end up as old as I am and be thinking about what you could have done, or should have done.”
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Laura
(new)
Mar 21, 2018 08:04AM
Aw, I sense more danger, and maybe of the romantic kind. So good to follow David and his family again.
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Yes, there's a lot more danger in my new book. The beta readers have told me that this novel is much darker than my previous ones. John Matsui would be proud. He always wanted me to come over to the dark side.
