your stories

[Betty]

If you have any stories that you have written please post them here.

[Jim Chandler]

September 6

Dear readers, except for intense loneliness I am very comfortable in my new cave home. The views are unsurpassed in sheer beauty. Yesterday afternoon, Manuel and I walked to the top of a nearby peak to watch the sunset. The pristine fragrance at this altitude, free of any man made pollution, was intoxicating. The westerly wind wafted gently against our faces. As the sun slid gently behind a distant mountain range, wisps of orange tinted clouds appeared as a crown for the sinking sun. As dusk began invading our mountain I heard the mournful call of the whippoorwill. I envied this bird because this very evening it would be with its loved one. Manuel licked my scarred face suggesting that we descend to our home.

Today, my dear reader, I ask advice from you. I have asked myself these question thousands of times, but there were no answers.

1. Should I return to the scene of my crime and turn myself in? My two victims are still declared missing. No crime has been officially listed by the police. But, at least in prison, I would be able to talk without having a silly mask on my face.
2. Should I try to find the owner of the unearned fortune that I possess? I have spent only two hundred dollars of this money. Could it have been a drug dealers stake?

So, my friends, what should I do? What would you do if you were in my place? I identify with Macbeth who cried out that we all are :
A walking shadow, a poor player,
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.
Despite my melancholy, I hear a voice of hope calling me. It is probably a defiant call for help from my alter ego. I also cry out for help. But my rational mind knows that I will very probably be ‘heard no more’.

As I write this I just heard the whippoorwill call for his mate.

Good night, my dear readers. Hug your loved ones close and tell them how much you love them.

Scarface

September 12

Dear readers, yesterday I drove over to a bookstore wearing my Groucho Marx mask and cowboy Stetson with boots. To my surprise, some people in the store smiled my way rather than gape. Perhaps my costume amused them. Even so, the smiles warmed me immensely. When I returned to my cave with several boxes of books, Manuel saw the change as soon as I removed my mask. He was so pleased that he jumped and scurried about like a young puppy. I went to sleep last night with a smile on my face and in my heart.

Early this morning Manuel and I hurried to our mountain top aerie to watch the sun rise. In the dawn’s dim light mist seemed to ooze from the deep valleys and dark ridges. In my imagination, it seemed that this dim darkness held evil and the brightening skies in the east was the herald of enlightenment. The worship of the sun during ancient times was likely based on images such as this. As the skies brightened the dark mist withdrew. First, a low twittering in the nearby trees could be heard as birds awakened from their sleep. Within minutes the mountain erupted in joyous melodies of life. The sun peeked over the eastern mountain range just as a flock of geese honked their way south. The cycle of life in the Blue Ridge Mountains goes on.

After an hour of joy on our mountain peak, we stood up to leave. The warmth of the sun embraced my shoulders as I watched Manuel trot ahead of me on the way to our lonesome hideaway.

Later I tore into my horde of books like a starving man. In a way, I was starving for answers to the persistent call of my conscience. What must I do? Could I ever again integrate into the society of human beings without wearing a silly mask? Even the drug society where I wasted so many years of my life would shun me like a leper. In my search I came across a statement on justice from Alexander Solzhenitsyn, the dissident from the former USSR. This man was on the receiving end of great injustice. Surely he could shed some light on my quandary. And he did!

Justice is conscience, not a personal conscience but the conscience of the whole of humanity. Those who clearly recognize the voice of their own conscience usually recognize also the voice of justice.

Of course. Justice is the judgment of the whole of humanity. It is the conscience of humanity. My conscience should not count. How can it be objective? You, dear readers will be my jury.

When I finish my story I will send it to a small town newspaper and ask the publisher to run it one piece at a time. It will give you ample time to judge me. When my last page is printed, the publisher will ask for your vote. I swear on the grave of my beloved Greta that I will abide by your judgment.

Scarface

September 16

Dear readers, these last few days have been a blessing for me. No longer do I anguish over my obligation to humanity. I will let you, a jury of thousands, determine what I must do. I read voraciously while Manuel sleeps at my side. Afterwards we wend our way to our aerie in the sky.

This morning I saw a strange sight in a small valley north of here. It was the startling contrast in color that caught my eye. On a carpet of varying shades of green was a small arc of purple. What could it be, I asked myself. It was so unusual that it must be a cultivated area. Surely, no one lived in this wilderness area. Tomorrow, I will investigate this unusual color.

One of the books I bought recently was a bible. I never knew much about any religion, let alone Christianity. I read it yesterday and had many more questions than answers. Maybe I need to read it again. But it is history and astronomy that delight me. I shudder at the ferocity and cruelty of humans against their own species. It seems that man’s worst enemy is man himself. But my sadness at this thought is lifted when I gaze at the heavens on a clear night. I lie on my back on soft green moss with Manuel beside me. The Milky Way galaxy dominates the heavens. To view this marvel near city lights does not do justice to its bountiful beauty. I lie spellbound seeing distant stars and imagine that planets may orbit this star like earth does our star, the sun. And, wonder of wonders, could this planet flourish with life like earth? My gaze shifts to fuzzy orbs outside the Milky Way swath. These are distant galaxies with many billions of stars. The sheer vastness of our universe tires my brain.

Minutes later, as I drifted off to sleep, I mused – could this universe be an accident? Was there a super natural being that created it? My poor brain, already tired, ceased to function as I fell asleep.

Scarface

September 18

Dear readers, I have marvelous news to tell you! Yesterday, Manuel and I piled into the jeep and made our way off the mountain to the valley where I saw the unusual purple color two days ago. I didn’t bother donning a mask since I had no plans to be around humans; besides, it was very uncomfortable. Several miles from where I estimated the spot to be I pulled the jeep off a gravel road, hiding it in some dense brush. Manuel and I quietly moved through the forest north toward the purple color.

We stopped about thirty minutes later to listen. Manuel heard the sound first because his ears became erect as he stared in the direction of our travel. What could he hear, or smell, I wondered. Then, I heard it! A voice in the distance that seemed to be singing. We moved forward toward this sound. It grew louder. It was a lilting female voice singing. We moved closer. The singing was the most beautiful sound that I had ever heard. What was the connection between this wonderful voice and the purple arc in the valley? We would find out.

We moved to within twenty yards of the voice when a wondrous view opened up through the trees. There was a small cabin in a glade by a slow moving stream. Surrounding the cabin was purple irises, thousands of them! The concentration of so many flowers with this intense color was mesmerizing – until I saw the person behind the voice. She was a woman with long blond hair. I saw her back as she stood on her porch and sang. She seemed to be singing to the flowers. She slowly turned toward me. I dared not move. She was stunningly beautiful. She was looking directly at me as she smiled and began another song. She was singing my favorite song, John Denver’s “Annie’s Song”, but from a female perspective. My heart was beating so loudly I feared that she could hear it. I would do nothing to hinder such a melodious beauty. She finished the song, sighed and walked into her cabin. I saw that I was trembling. In a daze we made it back to our cave.

I could not sleep last night, dear readers. Manuel and I are returning today. I am so excited. She actually looked at me, at my garish face, and smiled!

Scarface

September 20

Dear readers, I am so ecstatic that I can hardly hold a pen still enough to write. Manuel senses my excitement and smiles his joy as he licks my hand. Two days ago, we returned to the cabin with the purple flowers and the gorgeous nymph with a voice like an angel.

On our second visit Manuel and I hurried through the forest to the cabin. She was sitting on her porch. I watched from a distance not wanting to intrude. Suddenly, I heard her sob. She was crying. I had not intended to approach her so boldly, but she seemed to be deeply troubled. Maybe I could help. I walked nearer and said “Hello, I heard you crying. Is there anything I can do?”
She jumped up and turned toward me.
“Who are you? I didn’t think any one was within miles of this old cabin.”
“Well, I live on the mountain not too far from here. I watched yesterday as you sang my favorite song. I came by today just to listen, but not to intrude on you. I’m sorry I caught you so unhappy. Again, Miss, may I be of any help to you?”
“Oh, I didn’t see you yesterday. You see, I‘m blind. But I don’t mind you being here. At least, I will have some company in my final days alive.”
These words were like a dagger through my heart. Her final days?
“Why is it your final days? You seem to be a healthy and most beautiful lady.”
“I was abandoned here by my twin sister and her husband. They said they would return in a few days after they took care of some business. We, my sister Rose and I, were the sole heirs to our father’s business. Daddy passed away two months ago. Rose, her husband and I were on our way to Atlanta to meet the executer of Daddy’s will. I ate the last of my food two days ago. Now I am slowly starving.”
“Oh, that is terrible, you will not starve. I will return in less than an hour with plenty of food. And I will leave a protector here for you until then. His name is Manuel, C’mon Manuel, meet this beautiful lady,”
Manuel walked over and sat at her feet.
“I love dogs!” she said as she ran her hands over Manuel’s face, “My, you are a handsome dog, Manuel. My name is Iris.” She extended her hand to me, “and I will accept your kind offer of food.”
“I will return as fast as my jeep will take me.” As I hurried away I heard her ask “And what is your name, kind sir?”
I would cross that bridge later, I thought.

I brought all my food, utensils, weapons and bedroll. I intended to make my stand protecting the blind Iris. She was the only human who could look in my direction without my mask and smile.

Scarface

September 24

Dear readers, I am sure that you will understand, I have less time to write now that I have a responsibility other than myself and Manuel.

Neither Iris nor I have had a long conversation with another human in a long time. So we talked, talked and talked. She agreed to call me Scarface when I told her that I had disgraced my father’s name. I told her of my misspent life, my drowning in drugs, my crimes of murder, my horrible accident and my grotesque appearance. When she heard of this, she said, “Scarface, you are much too hard on yourself. You are a kind man, a considerate man and a just man. Your decision to allow the small community of Emmaus to judge you convinces me that you are a man of integrity.”
Tears flowed unashamedly down my cheeks. It had been a very long time since I had heard words of praise from anyone. It was my father who bailed me out of jail for a drug conviction who, instead of a severe lecture, said
“My son, you have made me so proud of you. Your graduation with honors from Med school and your honesty make me so pleased that you carry my name. You can lick this problem with drugs. I am absolutely positive of that.” He hugged me and left my apartment leaving $5,000 on my table. I wasted all of it on drugs. That was five years ago. Well, he was right about the drugs, but I wouldn’t take any bets that he is still proud of me.

Iris touched my face for the first time, wiping away the tears. She ran her sensitive fingers over my head my neck and hands and broke out into convulsive sobs.
She mumbled between sobs that she was crying for me.
“So much pain, Scarface! It breaks my heart to think of how you have suffered both from this horrible pain and loneliness.” I was numb from gratitude and felt a budding love for this blind and gorgeous woman. Her angelic inner being glowed with saintly beauty.

Raising my already stratospheric emotions even higher, she began to sing, no words, just a lilting litany of soft sounds soaring on the wings of her lovely voice. I was in a trance, so utterly enthralled that no words could ever describe. She hugged my scarred head to her breast and sang.

Scarface

September 25

Dear readers, Iris, Manuel and I are inseparable now. Manuel saved my life and Iris saved my soul. I asked her to call be Pat, my boyhood nickname. Yesterday, after the beautiful epiphany with Iris that gave me a new life, she asked me if I were a Christian. I told her no, but I had read the entire bible only a few days ago. She nodded with a smile and asked:
“Jay”, she began, “do you believe in God?”
“How could any person not believe in God?. Not long ago as I laid on my back one night watching the stars up above, I concluded that this could not have been an accident.”
“Have you ever been to church, Jay?”
“Iris, my father was a Buddhist. He taught me the ways of the Buddha. He had been a Christian but stopped going to church after my mother died. ‘Too many hypocrites in the church for me’, he told me often. I accepted this truth that churches are gathering places for hypocrites. I have never been inside of a church.”
Laughter filled the cabin as Iris roared with amusement.
“Jay, the world is full of hypocrites. Buddhists, Christians, communists, Democrats, Republicans and even Girl Scouts are often hypocrites. Hypocrisy is a character flaw; it is not endemic to any particular spiritual or secular group.” She continued, “The most important thing that a person must accept before becoming a Christian is realizing that alone, he is helpless. That is most difficult for strong willed people to accept, especially those so-called ‘self-made men’. Look at yourself. Would you be alive today without the intercession of Manuel? Would I be alive without the intersession of you into my life? Do you think that these intercessions were an accident? Like the wondrous night sky, they are not accidents. Who do you think initiated those intercessions?”
“God, of course. It was the swath of purple flowers that I saw from a nearby mountain peak that led me to you. Did you plant those flowers, Iris?”
“No, my father planted them. He built this cabin with his own hands. He fell in love with this area before Rose and I were born. He named Rose and I after his two favorite flowers. He bought over one hundred acres in this area and planted irises and roses. The roses died but the irises flourished. Each day while here I have walked out among his flowers and touched them. I feel that I am in touch with God as well as my father among these purple flowers.”
“Yes, Iris, I do see that the intercessions were no accidents. What must I do to become a Christian?”
“It is very simple, Jay. Let us kneel by the sofa here . Do you believe in Jesus, God’s only begotten son, who died so that we who believe in Him will have everlasting life?”
“Yes, I do”
“Father, hear my voice, I pray to you. This is Jay, the prodigal son who had returned home. I ask that you welcome him home and bless him. It is in Jesus name that I ask these things. Amen………. Jay, you are now a Christian. Your savior, Jesus Christ, went to a cross on Golgotha to give you and me eternal life.”

I was overwhelmed by this and all of the wonderful things that had entered my life since that horrible accident.

Scarface

September 26

Dear readers, this morning, Iris asked me if I would buy her a cellular phone. Of course, I would do anything for this love of my life. Returning with the cell phone she asked me if I would do her another favor.
“Anything that you ask me I will do, Iris.”
“Alright then, give me your father’s phone number.”
“But Iris, my father has every reason to be ashamed of me. He will laugh when you mention my name. Also, he may not even be alive today.”
But I saw the determined look in the set of her jaw and gave her his number. I sat back in trepidation as she dialed his number, carefully feeling the finger pads on the phone. She had turned the speaker volume up so I heard Dad’s phone ring several times.

“Hello”, the warm voice of Dad was heard by the two of us. Even Manuel perked up his ears.
“Mr. Robinson”, Iris responded, ”I am a friend of your son. In fact he saved my life. I want to tell you that he is well and is drug free. But he seems terrified that he has shamed you so much that you will want nothing further to do with you.”
There was a long pause.
“I am overjoyed that he is well. As far as him being drug free, I never had any doubt that he would overcome this terrible addiction. Is Jay with you there?”
Iris handed the phone over to me.
“Dad, please forgive me for dishonoring you and the family name.”
“Of course, Jay. I never doubted you, son. I never stopped loving you. You have been in my thoughts since that last day I saw you.”
“Dad, I still feel the same about you. I am so relieved. If you will be a witness to something, Dad, I have a question to ask Iris……..Iris, darling, will you marry me?”
“Oh yes, Jay, of course I will.”

Scarface

September 26

One Year Later

Dear readers, this is the final episode in the life of Scarface, aka Jay Robinson. There have been so many events that have crowded into my life in the past year that I will list them below to keep them straight.
1. I donated the money in the duffle bags to the Salvation Army. That eased my burden considerably.
2. My father, an attorney, investigated the crimes of Rose and her husband. They are in jail and my wife, Iris has received her rightful inheritance.
3. Iris and I have twin boys, named after our fathers, Adam and Brad. They are healthy boys who love to play with Manuel and his new friend, a German Shepherd that we named Nan.
4. I wear a hairpiece now, Plastic surgeons have attached lifelike replicas of a nose and ears to my head. Some of the worst scars have been removed but I will not be auditioning for any starring roles that require handsome profiles.
5. I have opened my medical practice and am enjoying the work.
6. Iris composes new songs and records them. She has a growing body of fans with me heading the list.
7. Dad and I have a great relationship now. Dad, Iris, Manuel, Nan and I have been to the cabin with the purple flowers as well as my cave and mountain aerie several times. The cabin has been enlarged and refurbished. We found out that the deeded area where the cabin is located also includes the cave and aerie.
8. God has interceded in all of our lives – and changed them. We have been blessed. We have joined a church; even Dad goes with us. Along with the hypocrites, we worship and find joy.

With the above rundown of the recent happenings in my life, I will leave you dear readers. Please send your votes to the publisher of the Emmaus Tribune. I will read your decision in a future edition of this paper. The vow still stands. I will abide by your decision.

Farewell

Scarface

Author: James Darwin Chandler