<p>When my kids were young, we used to make up bedtime stories by each taking turns adding to the story. It was fun, creative and entertaining. So, how about we show our imaginative sides? A few general groundrules, please-
No ■■■■■■. Please don’t put in something just to ruin the story.
If someone violates #1, just ignore their post.
Please read the posts previous to yours to maintain some continuity.
Use your own words.</p>
<p>Ok, I’ll start…</p>
<p>It was beautiful fall evening. The air was cold and crisp; the kind that you can feel between your eyes when you take a deep breath. The moon reflected on the lake below, shedding sparkles of light on the sailboat moored to the dock. An open book, its pages gently blowing in the evening’s breeze, lay next to a glass of cabernet. Suddenly…</p>
<p>Suddenly I became aware of someone else in the house. I can’t explain my actions at the time but I chose to take a sip of wine and close the book before…</p>
<p>I stepped out onto the dock. Slowly, I stepped closer to the water while the wind swept through my hair. The moon illuminated the windows on the second floor. Smiling, I could see the perfect outline of…</p>
<p>…James as he makes his way across the room, pulling his t-shirt off. I am immediately relieved. We are safe here, I have to remind myself. </p>
<p>The window is open and I hear the faint strains of jazz playing on the radio. It is so funny, I think to myself, as I watch him grab the shirt from the back collar and pull it forward, how differently men and women do things, even something as simple as undressing. I am mesmerized by the moonlight dancing off the water as I find myself distracted by thoughts of all those things that should separate us, but somehow bind us. Glorious little gifts, these things, I think to myself. </p>
<p>I do not notice the shadows moving through the trees near the house, so lost am I in my own world…</p>
<p>A shiver ran through me as I turned back toward the house. I didn’t know if was from the evening breeze or thoughts of the recent events that had turned our life upside down…</p>
<p>“Get up and get it yourself” she railed, wrapping her robe back over her shoulders. He hadn’t even turned around. She could see the reflection of his dead stare against the blue fade of college confidential. James was lost to admissions committees and religion bashing, or was it her…had she lost it. It didn’t have to be like this she felt, it didn’t have to be night after night of computer hums and hum jo…</p>
<p>It was only last November that she’d confronted James with the crumpled baggie of red pills. “Methamphetamines,” he said “…I’m dieting.” So many nights humped alone at the computer had, of course, taken its toll on his better parts. Still, dieting? Why not. But who buys diet pills in a zip-lock bag? And Methamphetamines…diet pills? Who uses Methamphetamine to take off a few pounds…or even in Jim’s case 40+ around the middle? </p>
<p>He’d been slipping away from time to time only to return, again, drunk or perhaps it was something else. Bleary eyed, hair tussled, no belt, flip-flops.</p>
<p>“Where have you been.” She confronted him after hearing the garage door open at 2 in the morning. </p>
<p>“I’ve been seeing a pastor.” He replied with a tone that suggested a mix of ironic indignation and raw fear. “A pastor”…we’re Jewish for god’s sake, what would you need with a pastor? What pastor? Where? Oh my god…”</p>
<p>“His name’s Teddy…Ted. He’s with one of those mega-churches on the south-side. I didn’t want to go into it…I was keeping it on the down low, but it’s…it’s marriage counseling. I didn’t want to tell you and, well, Teddy thought we should keep it between ourselves. He said if I brought you in too soon it could spoil everything we’ve worked on.” </p>
<p>She stared into his back and then turned and walked over to the fridge and grabbed the ga-dam beer…</p>
<p>AAAAAAAHAHAHAH!! I love you, Dorothy Parker!! </p>
<p>Glancing once more at the dancing water I crunched toward the house over the lake edge lawn, puffs of steam slipping from my mouth,. I saw the shadow again, this time squatting at the side of the house. Quickly, I sank down behind the skimpy shelter of an old Adirondack chair, and watched through the plank spaces. I didn’t call out to warn him. I dont’ know why. I could have. I know now that I should have, and regret it every day of my life.
James combed his hair to the beat of Take Five, moving a little in his awkward way. I saw on a low table the dinner he had prepared for me for our one year anniversary…slices of lunchmeat arranged in a circle on a platter, with rye bread slices and rolls, pickles and mustard. What a dear, sweet guy! I resolved to make a fuss when I went back inside. The shadow moved through the ground floor window, revealing in the soft den light the slim shoulders and bad perm of Donna. James had had a long high school to college love affair with her. She couldn’t let go. James and I had always laughed about it with the schadenfreude of the smugly secure. I didn’t want to get involved in the inevitable dramathon and make things worse, but I did want to watch, so I moved closer. Donna held something in her hand as she slunk through the darkened living room. Probably another bunch of photos of them to spark his affection again. As she passed through the living room toward the stairs, James bounced down them toward her. Their meeting was delicious, and I giggled. First he looked shocked and annoyed, and even a little amused. Then he looked appalled. As the look of confusion came over my face, Donna raised her arm over her head. The light of the fireplace glinted off the large knife in her hand. Everything happened so fast. Even as I stiffly rose out of my squat and lurched toward the door, I watched as James rocked back against the stair’s handrail and kicked out at Donna. He caught her square in the chest, hard. She flew back and landed on the low glass table on the cold cuts, dividing it loudly into large shards as she sank down to the wood floor. Slices of bologna sat on her perm like a pink hat. Donna moaned as she sank into the glass. She was impaled through the chest, and a red mist sprayed out of her mouth. James looked stunned. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but it changed out lives forever.</p>
<p>As I ponder the events of that fateful night, I am dumbfounded that I did not see if coming. All along, I treated Donna’s resentment toward my husband as merely a high-school sweetheart crush, unrequited. Little did I know that her anger was not about her feelings for Jim, but Jim’s feelings for her husband, the pastor, with whom he had been having an affair.
The red pills, the change in weight, lack of interest in our love life…I thought it was stress. I never dreamed that Jim was gay, and the he and Robert had been having an affair since they met…</p>
<p>Or so I thought. But fortunately, I realized it was all a dream. James’ silhouette still obvious in the window above. I awakened from the adirondack chair, the book beside me, the glass of cabarnet now empty. The air is now cold and damp. I return inside, to join James for our repast. The jazz music playing on the radio is suddently interrupted by a news announcement. A dreadful accident has occurred on the mountain road to the town below.</p>
<p>*** EDITORIAL NOTE*** We asked that snarky posts made only to ruin the story be ignored. If you want to talk about the Ted Haggard issue, post in that thread. Ignore posts by Dorothy (“fs”) Parker and Sunshadow, if they arent deleted) and lets get the story back on track.</p>
<p>A terse voiced radio announcer told of a car with out of state license plates, missing a hairpin turn and plunging into a deep ravine. Witnesses to the accident reported seeing two occupants inside the car as it careened around the curve out of control. Local emergency crews were called to the scene and a rescue attempt was underway. </p>
<p>James and I looked at each other in horror.</p>
<p>“Ohmyg-d” he yelled; “Your mother said she was on her way here, with my mother. She would have been just about where that car crashed!!”</p>
<p>Oh brother! My mother! - and his, too! The thought was too extreme to entertain, but we couldn’t help looking at each other in horror (and I couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit of guilty pleasure that, even in the midst of being terrified that my husband’s mother might have been seriously injured - or even killed - on the other hand my meddling mother-in-law might now be a thing of the past).</p>