Posts tagged ‘MELANGE BOOKS’
DISASTER AT SEA
This is a sample of the destruction leading up to the ultimate event.
Chapter Ten
Joe Sparks had drawn night duty on the bridge of the Clementine. He enjoyed the solitude of the darkened bridge, the tropical breeze soft and gentle and the total lack of passengers. Joe was not a ‘people person’ and the fact that the ship carried passengers in addition to cargo irritated him to no end. He knew Captain Roberts, a good man and captain of the Clementine. Joe had served with him on other vessels and he was a man to be trusted. Roberts knew the ocean, was a good sailor and a fair boss. When Joe heard Roberts was commanding the Clementine, he signed up. This was Joe’s first voyage on the ship, and when he arrived dockside, he couldn’t believe the line of civilians filing aboard. His love of working with Roberts was greater than his distaste for the passengers. He immediately signed up for night bridge duty.
The ship basically sailed itself. All Joe needed to do was monitor the course and make sure the autopilot was doing its job. Other than that, along with handling the occasional minor malfunction, Joe spent most of his time drinking coffee and reading. The only other person on the bridge was the radar operator. His presence in these waters was just to fulfill regulations. There were no landmasses for hundreds of miles and they were sailing far from the well-traveled shipping lanes of the Pacific.
Not prepared to see anything on his scope, he was surprised to pick up a reading a few miles away. “Joe, I don’t understand it, I’ve got a reading ten miles off the starboard bow. It appears to be land but there shouldn’t be any land out there.” Just as the radar operator began to speak, Joe noticed a glow on the ocean’s surface in the same direction.
“I’d better call the captain on this one.
* * * *
On deck, George and Emily strolled along the starboard side of the ship. With dinner finished, they decided to walk for a while on deck before retiring for the night. Emily gave George’s hand a squeeze. “I know how much you wanted a home near the ocean. I also know what a sacrifice it was to see that the girls were educated. I’m proud of our girls and I’m proud of what you’ve done for them.”
George held Emily’s hand and was about to respond when he noticed a light off in the distance. “That’s strange. I thought we weren’t near any land. That’s too bright to be another ship.”
At the same time George was pointing out the unusual glow to Emily, Captain Roberts entered the bridge and joined Sparks. The freighter’s course had taken it to within a few miles of the new volcano. Roberts was about to reach for the binoculars when the glow went dim. No one on board the Clementine knew they had but moments to live.
On deck George too saw the glow go faint. He was holding Emily’s hand and about to tell her, “I love you”, but the words never came.
The cone of the volcano exploded with a deafening roar. A massive wall of ash and super-heated gases bore down on the Clementine. A fraction of a second after the sound of the explosion reached the Clementine; she was engulfed in the deadly cloud. Anything on deck that was combustible burst into flame – deckchairs, lifeboats and human flesh were incinerated. Debris broke the windows of the bridge, and then everything and everyone on the bridge were consumed in a holocaust. Those below deck survived a second or two longer, but soon the Clementine was transformed into a floating funeral pyre. The inferno reached the ship’s fuel tanks and the Clementine was no more.
NEW MOON RISING WE MEET FOSTER, WADES YOUNGER BROTHER, THE SURFER
Chapter Three
Santa Monica
Foster awoke and gazed into the captivating face of the woman sleeping next to him, partially obscured by long tousled blond hair. His eyes went from the small up-turned nose to her full lips he gently kissed while she slept. They were both naked and had spent the night making love in his tiny Santa Monica apartment. He let his eyes wander the length of her body, the small firm breasts down to the tangled triangle of blond hair to the long legs and delicate feet. She began to stir. He continued to appreciate her body as she awoke.
“How’s my surfer stud?” she mumbled.
* * * *
After high school, Foster made his way down to the Los Angeles area, found an apartment, a real dive in Culver City, and began looking for a job. He checked out the trendy restaurants in Westwood and landed a job as busboy. Eventually he moved up to the wait staff. Easily making friends, he immediately became popular with his coworkers, going out for beers after work and organizing trips to the beach on days off. A career in the restaurant industry was not his plan. The truth was, he had no plan. He just figured he would enjoy southern California and see where life took him. Most of his fellow employees had definite plans. Most of them were ‘really actors’ working at the restaurant until their big break arrived. Foster thought to himself, “I may not have a plan, but at least I’m realistic.” Slowly, he worked his way up to one of the better restaurants where the fare was expensive and the tips good. Along the way, at every establishment, would-be actors and surrounded him.
After closing time one Friday night in June, Foster was wrapping things up and preparing the tables for tomorrow’s opening when Ted, one of his waiter friends walked over to him. “Hey Foster, want to go try some surfing tomorrow at Malibu Beach?” Ted asked. “You already have the looks of a surfer; with a board under your arm the chicks will cream their wet suits.”
“Tell me, Ted,” Foster joked, “can you surf or do you just act like a surfer, every pun intended?”
“Hey dude, come out tomorrow and see for yourself. Meet me at the entrance to Malibu Pier at ten.”
“Okay, Ted, see you tomorrow.”
Ted had borrowed a wet suit for Foster. The southern California waters were usually cold and surfing without a wet suit would be agony. Ted surfed for a while, then came in and gave Foster a few pointers and let him give it a try.
After continuously falling off the board, Foster finally got in a ride. He was hooked. For the next few months, he met Ted every Saturday morning to surf. He bought a used board and wet suit and surfed every chance he had days off, weekends and holidays would find him at the beach. He soon passed Ted in his surfing abilities, which didn’t take much, and became a member of the Malibu surfing crowd. To be closer to the ocean, he found a small apartment in Santa Monica. It was actually a makeshift apartment. The woman living on the second floor owned the apartment; the first floor was once two apartments, now there were four. With the addition of some walls and minuscule bathrooms, the owner’s income increased. Foster doubted if what she had done was up to code, but it offered him a cheap place near the ocean, so he signed the lease.
One Saturday morning, the owner of a local surf shop approached Foster. “Hey man, I’ve been watching you surf. You’re awesome dude! Would you be interested in working at my shop and giving some private lessons?”
For some time now, his waiter’s job was getting in the way of his new love—surfing. This offer was a dream come true.
“How much you paying?”
“Can’t pay much more than minimum wage at the store, but you can really score on the lessons.”
“Let me think about it. I’ll give you a call.”
The men exchanged phone numbers and Foster left for home. By the time he reached his apartment his mind was made up. He called the restaurant and quit. He knew this was an impulsive move. He was making good money but saw no future for himself as a waiter. In his mind he saw himself jumping from one job with no future that he hated, to another job with no future that he would love. He called the owner of the shop and said he’d take the job.
“Welcome aboard, see you Monday at nine.”
Foster learned a lot about the boards he was selling, and with a generous employee’s discount, was able to buy a real beauty. If he was going to teach he figured he should have the best equipment.
The local rich clientele, long on money and short on ability, began to seek out Foster for lessons, resulting in more time in the ocean than behind the counter. This suited him fine, more ocean time and a bigger paycheck.
Foster was opening up the shop on a Tuesday morning when a little red Mercedes convertible pulled into the lot. Behind the wheel sat a stunningly beautiful blond in her mid twenties. As she made her way to the counter, Foster noticed that her outfit of halter-top and cut-off jeans left little to the imagination. “ I saw your sign in the window for surfing lessons. Where’s the instructor?”
“You’re talking to him. How may I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Heather Bonner and I’m just dying to learn to surf. My family is new to the area. We just moved from Colorado. I wanted to spend a lot of time at the beach and get some exercise too. So I thought, why not surf?”
Heather admired the young man behind the counter. He was tall, slim, with the wide shoulders of an athlete. His deeply tanned face and sun-bleached hair spoke of hours spent outdoors.
“We can start lessons tomorrow at one,” Foster suggested.
“Sounds great,” said Heather. “I need a board and wet suit and whatever else you can think of.”
Foster spent the next hour going over the qualities of various styles of surfboards and equipped Heather with all she would need.
“Since you’ll be taking lessons here, you can store your stuff in back. See you tomorrow.”
Foster appreciated her firm little butt as she left the store. Things were looking up.
* * * *
Heather was something less than a natural when it came to surfing. Foster thanked the surfer gods and knew it would take a few lessons to get Heather standing on the board and riding the southern California waves. Unless a storm was off the coast, the waves were good but not the best, affording perfect conditions to learn to surf.
Slight body contact was needed between instructor and student during the lessons. Foster found himself making contact as much as possible and Heather didn’t seem to mind. During weekdays the beach was practically deserted. They had privacy and a chance to get to know each other. They usually sat on the sand to rest after a lesson and Heather would tell Foster about her family.
“Dad’s an investment banker. When we moved here we bought a house in the Pacific Palisades. Mom’s mostly bored. Her major occupation is trying to establish herself in the Pacific Palisades social set. My younger sister, Nancy, goes to a private high school and when she’s not at school she’s spending money.”
Foster also learned that Heather had an apartment in Westwood and was planning to enter graduate school at UCLA sometime in the future and study art.
Heather had learned about Foster’s family during their conversations, they all seemed so motivated. “So what are your plans Foster?”
“Work at the shop and teach surfing.”
“No, after that.”
“I haven’t given it much thought.”
* * * *
Heather’s big day finally arrived; she had an awesome ride.
“I guess you just graduated,” Foster said as she made her way through the surf to the sand where he stood.
Heather put down her board walked up to Foster and gave him a hug. “Thanks for being such a great teacher.” The hug was followed by a lingering kiss. Heather could feel Foster’s response through her suit.
“Let’s celebrate!”
“Can’t, have to work till five.”
“Tell you what. I’ll meet you at your apartment about seven.”
“That’d be great.” Foster wrote down his address, phone number for her, and went back to work.
“What’s that stupid grin for?” asked his boss as Foster entered the shop.
“I think the surfer gods are smiling on me,” replied Foster.
* * * *
As Foster drove down his street, he could see Heather’s car parked near his apartment building. “Can I have a YES,” whispered Foster.
Foster drove Heather to one of the local seafood restaurants near Santa Monica Pier. After dinner, they walked down to the pier to watch the kids on the amusement rides. The end of the pier was the territory of fishermen. In the darkness, a few men stood watch over their poles, waiting for a school of mackerel to happen by. But for now, their lines rocked gently back and forth with the motion of the waves.
Foster did not want this moment to end. Taking Heather’s hand, he said, “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”
Hand in hand, they left the fishermen to their night’s work, walked past the kids on the merry-go-round and stepped onto the wide expanse of sand. Removing their shoes, they walked south away from the lights of the pier into the darkness. After a while, they stopped to gaze out at the ocean. Heather put her head on Foster’s shoulder and sighed, “It’s such a beautiful night. I wish it would never end.”
She then turned to Foster, looked for a moment into his eyes and they kissed, and then kissed again. They lingered at the water’s edge a while longer then headed back past the pier to Foster’s pickup.
While they were walking, Heather asked, “So Foster, come here often with dates?”
“Don’t date much.”
This was the response she wanted to hear. When they arrived back at Foster’s apartment, he opened the door and helped Heather out of his old Toyota pickup. As she walked to her car, Foster hollered, “Guess I’ll see you around.” The disappointment in his voice was obvious and caused Heather to smile. A smile he couldn’t see.
She walked over to her car, opened the trunk and retrieved a small case. She turned and held it up. “Overnight bag.”
Now it was Foster’s turn to smile.
NEW MOON RISING WE MEET WADE, THE GEOLOGIST
Berkeley
Professor Gladstone’s Office
Precisely at four, Wade knocked on Professor Gladstone’s office door. Through the door Wade heard Gladstone yell, “Come in.”
He knew it! There sat Gladstone behind his desk, his head wreathed in pipe smoke, the scent enhanced the mellowness of the small office. The overhead fluorescent panels were off and a lamp brightened the huge desk with its incandescent light. Overflowing bookcases occupied most of the wall space—floor to ceiling. The floor was strewn with boxes of rocks and minerals, and in one corner, lay a stack of rolled charts.
“Have a seat Wade. I’ve set aside an hour for our discussion. I hope this talk further stirs your interest in the study of what I consider a fascinating subject and profound mystery.”
Wade thanked the professor for his time and sat down in an overstuffed chair before the professor’s desk. He had anticipated this meeting all day and had a feeling that what was said in the next hour could have a dramatic impact on the course of his life. He set his backpack on the floor, opened a zipper, and retrieved a spiral notebook and pen.
This pleased Gladstone. With this act he knew Wade was serious about this meeting and about the subject matter they were about to discuss. Gladstone was a born teacher and he found these meetings such as this the most rewarding aspect of his profession. One on one, he could fire the imagination of a gifted student.
With them both settled in their chairs, Gladstone lit a freshly stuffed pipe and continued, “What I find most interesting about the Ring of Fire is that the Earth is covered by tectonic plates in constant motion, yet the Ring is such a solitary occurrence. This phenomenon is duplicated nowhere else on Earth—nowhere. In class, we did not have an opportunity to cover all the unusual characteristics of this fascinating subject. You see Wade, along with the volcanoes that compose the Ring, there are a series of deep trenches, eight to ten kilometers deep, forming some of the deepest areas of the ocean floor. During class, I discussed the volcanoes, but these trenches are also an intricate aspect of the Ring. The volcanoes appear in arcs along the boundary of the Ring and always exist between the trenches I mentioned and the nearest landmass. These trenches run parallel to the volcanic arcs for hundreds and sometimes thousands of kilometers. There are well-developed theories as to why these trenches exist but their singular occurrence on the Earth’s surface has always fascinated me.
Another aspect of the Ring’s geology that I find curious is its fracture zones. Fracture zones are cracks in the Pacific Plate radiating from the trenches to the plates center. As you can see, the Ring is a dynamic and mysterious feature of the Earth’s surface, the study of which lends itself to an understanding of the Earth’s geology.”
Wade was caught up in the professor’s enthusiasm for the subject. “Professor,” Wade asked, “if so much is already known about the Ring of Fire, what is left to study?”
Gladstone chuckled. “Wade, you missed the one word I said during our discussion of the Ring that answers your question—dynamic. The Ring is ever changing, slowly revealing its secrets. Another change that is just as dynamic, even more so than the Ring itself, is the technology used to study it. Beginning in the 1970’s, a new area in the study of geology was born. That area is called space geodesy. This branch of research involves satellites taking precise and repeated measurements of selected points on the Earth’s surface. A whole new field has grown around space technology and the science of geology. Of all the space-geodetic techniques used, the three most popular are very long baseline interferometry, satellite laser ranging and the Global Positioning System, a complex of satellites orbiting 20’000 kilometers above the Earth as part of the Department of Defense’s NavStar system. The vast array of satellites making up the GPS, constantly transmit singles back to Earth determining longitude, latitude and elevation. Geologists use this system to measure the movement of the Earth’s Plates. You see Wade, knowledge grows as technology grows, and in both, there is no end of growth in sight. So do not worry about everything being known in any branch of science. That will never happen.”
The professor then reached for a folder on his cluttered desk. “I have assembled a reading list and collection of web sites I hope you find interesting. I have given you general information about the Ring, now it’s up to you to fill in the details and go as far as your mind and curiosity will take you.”
Rising from his chair, Gladstone extended his hand to Wade. “I envy your youth and enthusiasm. Let your curiosity lead you down that road of discovery that makes a scientist’s life worthwhile.”
RADIO INTERVIEW
Here’s a more direct link to my radio interview.
Tell me what you think.
http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBNto6p7c1Fpiwz4gTgWO5w/videos
This will give you and opportunity to listen to the other authors’ interviews.
RADIO INTERVIEW
Here is a link to the radio interview I had yesterday,
I hope it gives you a chance to learn more about me.
Take care,
Walt
REVIEW SPELLBOUND
My consistent readers,
SPELLBOUND2011, an anthology published by Melange Books, has recently been reviewed. I have a story in the anthology, Mansion of Nightmares.
I hope the review whets your appetite for making a purchase.
http://compelledbywords.blogspot.com/2012/06/anthology-review-spellbound-2011.html
UPDATE
UPDATE
My consistent readers,
I thought I’d touch base after some of disturbing medical update I’ve recently shared. For the most part, I’m back to normal. I’m feeling fine although I am one enough pills that I could open up my own pharmacy, but as time goes by the number should diminish.
As far as my writing is concerned, I’m working on a new short story and a novella featuring Elmo. Elmo has already appeared in a novella published by Melange Books in their anthology, Curious Hearts. I’ve also submitted two short stories for which I am still awaiting a reply and a host of poems which have all been rejected.
I’ll keep in touch. I hope you will too.
SPELLBOUND
Here’s some info about my fellow authors in the anthology, Spellbound.
http://mystiparker.blogspot.com/2011/11/interview-with-authors-of-spellbound.html
CURIOUS HEARTS
My consistent readers,
Here is a link to questions answered by authors of Curious Hearts.
http://mystiparker.blogspot.com/2011/10/interview-with-curious-hearts-authors.html
UPDATE CURIOUS HEARTS
My consistent readers,
Both of you, JUST KIDDING.
I’m posting a review of the anthology, Curious Hearts, submitted to GOODREADS.
Each story showcased the author’s unique voice. I particularly enjoyed that some of them didn’t end quite the way you’d expect. The choices that had to be made were gut-wrenching at times. There was also a good share of humor in several of these.
Some of the best unexpected twists and humor were found in Jane Carver’s “A-mazing Shift”, Walt Trizna’s “Elmo’s Sojourn”, and Jenny Twist’s “Doppelganger”. But, you’ll have to read it yourself if you want to pick your own favorites.
Because of some very explicit sexual content in the stories “Mission to Doom” and “Bi-Curious Wife”, I recommend this book for adults only
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