by
Chuck Connors
The river rolls, the river rolls, all the way to the big wide sea
But who could really understand when you and I can’t see?
The river rolls, the river rolls, laughing across the rocks
It chuckles softly “come along,” you can play without your socks.
The river rolls, the river rolls, two lovers once loved along its banks
Years later when they were old and gray they came back and gave their thanks.
The river rolls, the river rolls, so deep and far and wide
It travels winding ways to the ocean and the tide.
The river rolls, the river rolls, it seems forever to me
One day I must follow it to find my destiny.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
An Open Letter to the Citizens of Jackson County
by Chuck Connors
By and large our county manager, Mr. Ken Westmoreland, has done a good job with our county’s proposed 2008 – 2009 fiscal budget. I do have some questions and comments relating to the budget and to the g
eneral state of Jackson County.
Why do we need an Economic Development Commission (EDC)?
Whatever happened to the $568,000.00 the EDC loaned the Jackson Development Commission (JDC)?
When are we going to have the audit that was promised over two years ago? Audits were not done in 2006 and 2007.
I understand this loan was supposed to be paid back in one year. That was six years ago!
Now, that loan would be worth (with interest) approximately $620,000.00. Where is the money?
If the EDC has not forgiven that loan and the JDC is now defunct, do the taxpayers have to pay the EDC that loan of $620,000.00 as is being rumored?
Some people have said we don’t really need a full time EDC director because in a small county like ours there isn’t enough interest or need.
An ad hoc committee, activated from time to time, could work more effectively and be more responsive to the taxpayers.
The EDC doesn’t need another county employee working for it. We already have some financial accountability with the county’s financial director also acting as the treasurer of the group.
On other issues:
Why is the county allowing the Army Corps of Engineers to deny due process to the citizens of Jackson County in the coming environmental disaster of the elitist compounds of “Webster Ridge” and “Riverrock (Legasus)?”
Does the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ (Chaffin/Light) really believe that folks are taken in with the public relations stunt of a has-been golf professional brazenly opening one of his trout-killing courses on the anniversary (June 7, 2007) of the Scott’s Creek disaster? To paraphrase Charlie Daniels, “the eagle is flying low,” isn’t it?
This whole sad state of affairs has become a “Jacksongate” where the taxpayers get their pockets picked one more time by free-booting loose cannons. If the citizens of Jackson County aren’t getting the shaft from a herd of greedy developers, they’re getting it from our elected and appointed officials! I would strongly urge you, the Jackson County Commissioners, to take action now on the EDC/JDC fiasco, take a strong stand against re-building the dam on the BMP golf course and take immediate legal action to force the Army Corps of Engineers to hold a public hearing/public comment on the “Webster Ridge” debacle. These and other incidents have been “white elephants” on the taxpayers for too long. All we’re getting is a huge mess costing us hundreds of thousands of dollars (perhaps millions) and destroying our county with no end in sight. Is anyone else waiting for positive leadership on these issues? Cut to the chase gentlemen and do it now.
By and large our county manager, Mr. Ken Westmoreland, has done a good job with our county’s proposed 2008 – 2009 fiscal budget. I do have some questions and comments relating to the budget and to the g
eneral state of Jackson County.
Why do we need an Economic Development Commission (EDC)?
Whatever happened to the $568,000.00 the EDC loaned the Jackson Development Commission (JDC)?
When are we going to have the audit that was promised over two years ago? Audits were not done in 2006 and 2007.
I understand this loan was supposed to be paid back in one year. That was six years ago!
Now, that loan would be worth (with interest) approximately $620,000.00. Where is the money?
If the EDC has not forgiven that loan and the JDC is now defunct, do the taxpayers have to pay the EDC that loan of $620,000.00 as is being rumored?
Some people have said we don’t really need a full time EDC director because in a small county like ours there isn’t enough interest or need.
An ad hoc committee, activated from time to time, could work more effectively and be more responsive to the taxpayers.
The EDC doesn’t need another county employee working for it. We already have some financial accountability with the county’s financial director also acting as the treasurer of the group.
On other issues:
Why is the county allowing the Army Corps of Engineers to deny due process to the citizens of Jackson County in the coming environmental disaster of the elitist compounds of “Webster Ridge” and “Riverrock (Legasus)?”
Does the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ (Chaffin/Light) really believe that folks are taken in with the public relations stunt of a has-been golf professional brazenly opening one of his trout-killing courses on the anniversary (June 7, 2007) of the Scott’s Creek disaster? To paraphrase Charlie Daniels, “the eagle is flying low,” isn’t it?
This whole sad state of affairs has become a “Jacksongate” where the taxpayers get their pockets picked one more time by free-booting loose cannons. If the citizens of Jackson County aren’t getting the shaft from a herd of greedy developers, they’re getting it from our elected and appointed officials! I would strongly urge you, the Jackson County Commissioners, to take action now on the EDC/JDC fiasco, take a strong stand against re-building the dam on the BMP golf course and take immediate legal action to force the Army Corps of Engineers to hold a public hearing/public comment on the “Webster Ridge” debacle. These and other incidents have been “white elephants” on the taxpayers for too long. All we’re getting is a huge mess costing us hundreds of thousands of dollars (perhaps millions) and destroying our county with no end in sight. Is anyone else waiting for positive leadership on these issues? Cut to the chase gentlemen and do it now.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Frat Boys on Spring Break
by Chuck Connors
There’s a pattern happening here. A pattern insidious, hateful, destructive, and it’s aimed at you and me. In just the last few years Jackson County has taken on a tone, a dreadful resemblance similar to the destruction of the state of Florida. Build, build, build and the land and the public be damned.
For too long developers in Jackson County and the rest of Western North Carolina have been running hog wild like frat boys on spring break in Panama City. Our county has been their golden goose with dollar signs for eyes and guess who’s paying through the nose? It may turn out that the land development/steep slope ordinances need to be ‘tweaked’ and made more effective in stopping the developers in their race to destroy what little we have left—especially when there’s ‘cheaters’ such as the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ neatly halving the just fine that was imposed upon them for the illegal dam which caused the Scott’s Creek disaster. The public relations flim flam of a bought and paid for eagle imported from Tennessee won’t fly either. Nobody’s fooled.
Don’t forget Legasus and their Riverrock water pollution fiasco in-the-making on Cullowhee Mountain. If you think that Legasus hasn’t been doing everything they can to subvert the decision of the Army Corps of Engineers relating to all the streams that Legasus is going to bury in a pipe, you were born yesterday.
Two of the candidates running for county commissioner are obvious ‘plants’ by the developers. One candidate is the Eastern Band’s attempt to subvert the rest of Jackson County and another candidate is a sex offender.
The incumbents may not be perfect, but they see what is going on and are doing something right to preserve the old Jackson County for the future. They don’t want their grandchildren and yours to be forced out of Jackson County by sky-high land prices and elitist gated communities with signs reading, “Locals Keep Out.” Will you stand on your two legs and fight for what is right or will you be a slave on your knees? I know who and what I’m going to vote for May 6. Do you?
There’s a pattern happening here. A pattern insidious, hateful, destructive, and it’s aimed at you and me. In just the last few years Jackson County has taken on a tone, a dreadful resemblance similar to the destruction of the state of Florida. Build, build, build and the land and the public be damned.
For too long developers in Jackson County and the rest of Western North Carolina have been running hog wild like frat boys on spring break in Panama City. Our county has been their golden goose with dollar signs for eyes and guess who’s paying through the nose? It may turn out that the land development/steep slope ordinances need to be ‘tweaked’ and made more effective in stopping the developers in their race to destroy what little we have left—especially when there’s ‘cheaters’ such as the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ neatly halving the just fine that was imposed upon them for the illegal dam which caused the Scott’s Creek disaster. The public relations flim flam of a bought and paid for eagle imported from Tennessee won’t fly either. Nobody’s fooled.
Don’t forget Legasus and their Riverrock water pollution fiasco in-the-making on Cullowhee Mountain. If you think that Legasus hasn’t been doing everything they can to subvert the decision of the Army Corps of Engineers relating to all the streams that Legasus is going to bury in a pipe, you were born yesterday.
Two of the candidates running for county commissioner are obvious ‘plants’ by the developers. One candidate is the Eastern Band’s attempt to subvert the rest of Jackson County and another candidate is a sex offender.
The incumbents may not be perfect, but they see what is going on and are doing something right to preserve the old Jackson County for the future. They don’t want their grandchildren and yours to be forced out of Jackson County by sky-high land prices and elitist gated communities with signs reading, “Locals Keep Out.” Will you stand on your two legs and fight for what is right or will you be a slave on your knees? I know who and what I’m going to vote for May 6. Do you?
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Balsam Mountain Eagle a 'No Fly'
by Chuck Connors
Some of ya’ll might remember from a few weeks back all the hoopla in the papers and on the television about the eagle over there at the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve.’ Now being a bit ignorant when it comes to worldly things I figured to ask my Uncle Curtis what he thought about all these goings on. For those of you that don’t know my Uncle Curtis, he’s lived in these mountains for quite a spell; besides, he’s done a bit of traveling also.
“Uncle Curtis, did you hear about that eagle they got up there at that Chaffin/Light development?”
“Yea boy I heard about it,” he replied.
Now if you know my Uncle Curtis, he may not say much but what he says means a whole lot. “Well what exactly do you think about that eagle, ‘Spirit Augustus’, they got penned up there,” I asked.
“Boy, when you goin’ to learn that there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. None of them big corporation people is going to give you or me the time of day unless they figure they can get somethin’ out of our pockets.”
“But Uncle Curtis, don’t you think it’s all good to be bringing back eagles to the mountains?”
“Shoot boy, all them corporate ‘charla-tans’ are trying to do is pull a sack over your pea-brained head. Didn’t you ever stop to think what that eagle’s name means? The Latin of spirit is spiritus which can mean either a ghost or liquor. All them Chaffin/Light money boys are trying to do is sell you a ghost. And if you ever heard about anybody seeing a ghost all they thought they saw was smoke. And anytime that any of your cousins said they saw a ghost they was all liquored up anyways. When somebody don’t want you to look someplace they’ll do some sorta neat trick to get you to look somewhere else. In the magician business they call it ‘smoke and mirrors’.”
When I got to thinking about it I figured that Uncle Curtis just might be right. What has the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ ever really done for me. Shoot, you can’t go in up there at Sugar Loaf anymore to do any hunting or fishing. They might as well have a sign that reads, “Locals Keep Out.” Remember that dam they had that burst? Chaffin/Light’s been trying to get out of payin’ for that disaster from the get go. Do ya’ll think that the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ really gives a hoot about our mountains and our ways? Like Uncle Curtis told me, “you can’t get something for nothing and them corporate bean counters want somethin’.”
Some of ya’ll might remember from a few weeks back all the hoopla in the papers and on the television about the eagle over there at the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve.’ Now being a bit ignorant when it comes to worldly things I figured to ask my Uncle Curtis what he thought about all these goings on. For those of you that don’t know my Uncle Curtis, he’s lived in these mountains for quite a spell; besides, he’s done a bit of traveling also.
“Uncle Curtis, did you hear about that eagle they got up there at that Chaffin/Light development?”
“Yea boy I heard about it,” he replied.
Now if you know my Uncle Curtis, he may not say much but what he says means a whole lot. “Well what exactly do you think about that eagle, ‘Spirit Augustus’, they got penned up there,” I asked.
“Boy, when you goin’ to learn that there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. None of them big corporation people is going to give you or me the time of day unless they figure they can get somethin’ out of our pockets.”
“But Uncle Curtis, don’t you think it’s all good to be bringing back eagles to the mountains?”
“Shoot boy, all them corporate ‘charla-tans’ are trying to do is pull a sack over your pea-brained head. Didn’t you ever stop to think what that eagle’s name means? The Latin of spirit is spiritus which can mean either a ghost or liquor. All them Chaffin/Light money boys are trying to do is sell you a ghost. And if you ever heard about anybody seeing a ghost all they thought they saw was smoke. And anytime that any of your cousins said they saw a ghost they was all liquored up anyways. When somebody don’t want you to look someplace they’ll do some sorta neat trick to get you to look somewhere else. In the magician business they call it ‘smoke and mirrors’.”
When I got to thinking about it I figured that Uncle Curtis just might be right. What has the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ ever really done for me. Shoot, you can’t go in up there at Sugar Loaf anymore to do any hunting or fishing. They might as well have a sign that reads, “Locals Keep Out.” Remember that dam they had that burst? Chaffin/Light’s been trying to get out of payin’ for that disaster from the get go. Do ya’ll think that the Balsam Mountain ‘Preserve’ really gives a hoot about our mountains and our ways? Like Uncle Curtis told me, “you can’t get something for nothing and them corporate bean counters want somethin’.”
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Another Christmas Day
Waiting in the cold dark winter’s night
The gusting wind blows with the Arctic’s might.
Remembering the loved ones who have passed
I shiver so slightly as my thoughts are sad.
Although I’ll always love them so
Life’s still worth living this I know.
As I sit waiting for the gift-giving Saint
I search my soul to discover no taint.
Be grateful for another Christmas Day
‘Cause it’s with family and friends here I stay.
And when it’s time to go through the door
I’ll see the loved ones who’ve gone on before.
But that won’t come just yet I pray
‘Till then I’ll be grateful for another Christmas Day.
Chuck Connors,December 25, 2007
The gusting wind blows with the Arctic’s might.
Remembering the loved ones who have passed
I shiver so slightly as my thoughts are sad.
Although I’ll always love them so
Life’s still worth living this I know.
As I sit waiting for the gift-giving Saint
I search my soul to discover no taint.
Be grateful for another Christmas Day
‘Cause it’s with family and friends here I stay.
And when it’s time to go through the door
I’ll see the loved ones who’ve gone on before.
But that won’t come just yet I pray
‘Till then I’ll be grateful for another Christmas Day.
Chuck Connors,December 25, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Laurie's Song
by
Chuck Connors
Joe got into his truck and squinted at the sky. He didn’t see any sun. “Must be behind a cloud or something,” he thought to himself as he cranked up
the motor and pulled out of the driveway. “It’s gonna be a good Thanksgiving,
even if we aren’t gonna be together for the turkey and everything. Shoot, after we’re done at each of our folks we can get together and go to Asheville or something.
Maybe take in a movie or go hear us some music. Then it’ll be about time for some
all-night good lovin’.”
Joe had called earlier when he was getting dressed but all he got was her
answering machine. He didn’t think much about it because she was probably in the
shower or something. Laurie was like that. One time he came to pick her up for a date early. He slipped into her apartment quiet-like, tip-toed into the bathroom,
and ripped the shower curtain open. Laurie screamed and darned near knocked him
out with a shampoo bottle. His head had hurt for a couple of days after. Whenever Joe had reminded Laurie about the joke, she usually punched him in the ribs and told him “don’t ever try that again Herbie Joe or else you’re gonna be missing something real special to you, like the family jewels.” To this day, Joe hadn’t dared to try her on it. He knew when she was serious.
Traffic was non-existent going through the small college mountain town of
Judaculla Rock near where he lived. “Seems like everybody’s at Granny’s house today”, he thought, as he passed a guy in a red Volkswagen jacking up his rear end to change out his flat tire. In the back seat Joe thought he saw a coffin-shaped box. “Strange,” thought Joe, “why the hell would somebody be carryin’ around a coffin in the back of a VW? Folks are getting’ weirder and weirder every year.” The guy didn’t look like he needed any help though.
Joe thought he’d give Laurie another call from his cell phone. He punched in the numbers he memorized almost from the first time she’d given him her number. He hit send and it started the first ring.
Joe could remember the first time he’d seen Laurie. He’d been in a club over in Asheville sitting at the bar sipping on a cold one when a dark-haired beauty in a black miniskirt, tube top, and black stiletto high-heeled boots had walked through the front door. Joe couldn’t believe the energy the woman gave off. She wasn’t putting up with any crap though. The dark-haired mystery woman fended off two guys who tried to stop and talk with her by icily ignoring them and brusquely walking on by.
She came and sat down on an empty stool just a couple away from Joe. She lit a cigarette as the barkeep hustled down the bar to take her order. Joe took a deep breath and a hefty swig from his bottle and turned to the mystery woman and smiled.
“Hey, name’s Joe. What’s yours?”
“You tryin’ to pick me up too?” she said as she looked him suspiciously.
“Just trying to find out your name so I can make some polite conversation.”
“Keep your shirt on cowboy, the name’s Laurie an’ nobody picks me up unless I
know who they are. I already know what they want. What do you do when you’re not in
here?” she asked.
“I go to school and I’m a part-time disc jockey at the rock station at Scottsford in Jefferson County. What do you do mystery lady-named-Laurie?” She smiled when he said that. He was dazzled by that smile.
“I work with computers; office systems stuff. Kind of boring. It’s a living
though.”
Joe didn’t get a date that night but he got a phone number; which eventually led to a date, and to a relationship which took his breath away. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever dated, and she knew it too.
“Damn answering machine again,” said Joe as he thumbed the stop button on the
cell phone. “She must be in the shower or using the hair dryer.”
Laurie always kept herself looking good—classy good. Hell, the short skirts she wore made it extra hard for Joe to keep his hands off of her, even in public places. Laurie was that attractive. He remembered one time they were sitting in a café in Asheville.
She was wearing one of those frilly miniskirts. All the guys in the place were looking at Laurie’s legs, especially when Joe put his hand on her thigh and slowly started moving it upwards….
Joe pulled into the road along the river that Laurie’s apartment was on. The light was golden and diffused, yet the river looked flat and dark. Joe still couldn’t see the sun. “Normal for these mountains for it to get behind one and you not to see it,” he thought.
Laurie was more than some sweet-lookin’ eye candy too. In the past couple of
years Joe’s mother’s dementia had been getting worse. She needed somebody to do for
her—help her take a bath, get dressed; help her with memory exercises. Laurie was there when Joe needed her. Laurie knew about problems. She’d been abused when she was a kid. It haunted her despite her seeing a shrink. Joe still wanted to kill the bastard that had messed with her.
Joe pulled into the driveway that led to the apartment complex Laurie lived in. He always felt a charge of anticipation when he was coming to see her. He could
remember waking up of a morning in her bed, looking up at the pictures and awards hung up on the wall. He’d hear the covers rustle next to him and Laurie’s husky voice would ask him, “would you like some coffee or something else cowboy?”
Mostly he couldn’t keep himself from saying “something else Laurie darlin’.”
They always ended up breathless, with hearts pounding; too exhausted to move from each other’s embrace.
Joe pulled up in front of Laurie’s apartment. He cut the motor; let the radio play low. Laurie was a big one for rock ‘n roll. He’d come in the door and she’d have the stereo on. Laurie would be dancing, some eighties or nineties rock ‘an roll blasting, eyes closed, lost in it. She’d open her eyes, see him and smile. It made him love her more.
Joe got out and went up the walk to Laurie’s door. Usually one of her two cats were sitting in one of the two front windows. Joe didn’t see ‘em. He knocked a couple of times on the door, stuck his key in and turned the lock. The door opened a couple of inches and stopped. Joe pushed against what looked like a couple of chairs propped up against the door. When he got in, he could see the apartment looked like a bomb had gone off in it. Joe’s heart started to pound. He walked real fast through the mess on the floor. Joe turned the corner in the hallway to Laurie’s bedroom door. She was there by the bed, lying on the floor. He got down on his knees, grabbed her arm and started shaking her; no life. Joe jumped up and ran into the living room. “Where’s the phone, dammit?” Joe roared to an empty apartment. He spotted it lying on the floor, picked it up, and punched in the emergency number. Joe told the dispatcher he needed an ambulance quick at Laurie’s apartment, gave him the address, and hung up. Joe noticed a piece of paper on the coffee table at the end of the couch.
“Dear Herbie Joe, Mother and Dad, I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain was too much. Please forgive me. Take care of my cats. Love you Mom and Dad. Joe, I will always love you. Do not resuscitate.”
Joe went into Laurie’s bedroom while he was waiting on the ambulance. He knelt down and kissed Laurie on the cheek one more time and prayed for a few moments.
“Laurie, I love you so much. Why did you have to leave me?” He didn’t know if he’d
ever know the answer to that question. Joe got to his feet and walked out of the
apartment. A deputy was getting out of his patrol car and putting on some rubber gloves as Joe walked up to him. “I checked for a pulse,” Joe said in a flat voice. “She’s cold. I didn’t try cpr.” The cop came out a minute later and spoke into his radio; “cancel that 10-52; cancel all first responders on that last call.”
Joe felt a sharp pain, like somebody had kicked him in the back of the head.
Crazy, dark thoughts were spinning round and round like a million fireflies going nuts in his mind. The only thing he could focus on was how good a drink would feel right about now. He doubted it would do anything for him but he didn’t much care. He wanted to get totally obliviated and forget that this day ever happened. Joe looked up at the sky and didn’t see the sun. He didn’t think he ever would.
Chuck Connors
Joe got into his truck and squinted at the sky. He didn’t see any sun. “Must be behind a cloud or something,” he thought to himself as he cranked up
the motor and pulled out of the driveway. “It’s gonna be a good Thanksgiving,
even if we aren’t gonna be together for the turkey and everything. Shoot, after we’re done at each of our folks we can get together and go to Asheville or something.
Maybe take in a movie or go hear us some music. Then it’ll be about time for some
all-night good lovin’.”
Joe had called earlier when he was getting dressed but all he got was her
answering machine. He didn’t think much about it because she was probably in the
shower or something. Laurie was like that. One time he came to pick her up for a date early. He slipped into her apartment quiet-like, tip-toed into the bathroom,
and ripped the shower curtain open. Laurie screamed and darned near knocked him
out with a shampoo bottle. His head had hurt for a couple of days after. Whenever Joe had reminded Laurie about the joke, she usually punched him in the ribs and told him “don’t ever try that again Herbie Joe or else you’re gonna be missing something real special to you, like the family jewels.” To this day, Joe hadn’t dared to try her on it. He knew when she was serious.
Traffic was non-existent going through the small college mountain town of
Judaculla Rock near where he lived. “Seems like everybody’s at Granny’s house today”, he thought, as he passed a guy in a red Volkswagen jacking up his rear end to change out his flat tire. In the back seat Joe thought he saw a coffin-shaped box. “Strange,” thought Joe, “why the hell would somebody be carryin’ around a coffin in the back of a VW? Folks are getting’ weirder and weirder every year.” The guy didn’t look like he needed any help though.
Joe thought he’d give Laurie another call from his cell phone. He punched in the numbers he memorized almost from the first time she’d given him her number. He hit send and it started the first ring.
Joe could remember the first time he’d seen Laurie. He’d been in a club over in Asheville sitting at the bar sipping on a cold one when a dark-haired beauty in a black miniskirt, tube top, and black stiletto high-heeled boots had walked through the front door. Joe couldn’t believe the energy the woman gave off. She wasn’t putting up with any crap though. The dark-haired mystery woman fended off two guys who tried to stop and talk with her by icily ignoring them and brusquely walking on by.
She came and sat down on an empty stool just a couple away from Joe. She lit a cigarette as the barkeep hustled down the bar to take her order. Joe took a deep breath and a hefty swig from his bottle and turned to the mystery woman and smiled.
“Hey, name’s Joe. What’s yours?”
“You tryin’ to pick me up too?” she said as she looked him suspiciously.
“Just trying to find out your name so I can make some polite conversation.”
“Keep your shirt on cowboy, the name’s Laurie an’ nobody picks me up unless I
know who they are. I already know what they want. What do you do when you’re not in
here?” she asked.
“I go to school and I’m a part-time disc jockey at the rock station at Scottsford in Jefferson County. What do you do mystery lady-named-Laurie?” She smiled when he said that. He was dazzled by that smile.
“I work with computers; office systems stuff. Kind of boring. It’s a living
though.”
Joe didn’t get a date that night but he got a phone number; which eventually led to a date, and to a relationship which took his breath away. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever dated, and she knew it too.
“Damn answering machine again,” said Joe as he thumbed the stop button on the
cell phone. “She must be in the shower or using the hair dryer.”
Laurie always kept herself looking good—classy good. Hell, the short skirts she wore made it extra hard for Joe to keep his hands off of her, even in public places. Laurie was that attractive. He remembered one time they were sitting in a café in Asheville.
She was wearing one of those frilly miniskirts. All the guys in the place were looking at Laurie’s legs, especially when Joe put his hand on her thigh and slowly started moving it upwards….
Joe pulled into the road along the river that Laurie’s apartment was on. The light was golden and diffused, yet the river looked flat and dark. Joe still couldn’t see the sun. “Normal for these mountains for it to get behind one and you not to see it,” he thought.
Laurie was more than some sweet-lookin’ eye candy too. In the past couple of
years Joe’s mother’s dementia had been getting worse. She needed somebody to do for
her—help her take a bath, get dressed; help her with memory exercises. Laurie was there when Joe needed her. Laurie knew about problems. She’d been abused when she was a kid. It haunted her despite her seeing a shrink. Joe still wanted to kill the bastard that had messed with her.
Joe pulled into the driveway that led to the apartment complex Laurie lived in. He always felt a charge of anticipation when he was coming to see her. He could
remember waking up of a morning in her bed, looking up at the pictures and awards hung up on the wall. He’d hear the covers rustle next to him and Laurie’s husky voice would ask him, “would you like some coffee or something else cowboy?”
Mostly he couldn’t keep himself from saying “something else Laurie darlin’.”
They always ended up breathless, with hearts pounding; too exhausted to move from each other’s embrace.
Joe pulled up in front of Laurie’s apartment. He cut the motor; let the radio play low. Laurie was a big one for rock ‘n roll. He’d come in the door and she’d have the stereo on. Laurie would be dancing, some eighties or nineties rock ‘an roll blasting, eyes closed, lost in it. She’d open her eyes, see him and smile. It made him love her more.
Joe got out and went up the walk to Laurie’s door. Usually one of her two cats were sitting in one of the two front windows. Joe didn’t see ‘em. He knocked a couple of times on the door, stuck his key in and turned the lock. The door opened a couple of inches and stopped. Joe pushed against what looked like a couple of chairs propped up against the door. When he got in, he could see the apartment looked like a bomb had gone off in it. Joe’s heart started to pound. He walked real fast through the mess on the floor. Joe turned the corner in the hallway to Laurie’s bedroom door. She was there by the bed, lying on the floor. He got down on his knees, grabbed her arm and started shaking her; no life. Joe jumped up and ran into the living room. “Where’s the phone, dammit?” Joe roared to an empty apartment. He spotted it lying on the floor, picked it up, and punched in the emergency number. Joe told the dispatcher he needed an ambulance quick at Laurie’s apartment, gave him the address, and hung up. Joe noticed a piece of paper on the coffee table at the end of the couch.
“Dear Herbie Joe, Mother and Dad, I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain was too much. Please forgive me. Take care of my cats. Love you Mom and Dad. Joe, I will always love you. Do not resuscitate.”
Joe went into Laurie’s bedroom while he was waiting on the ambulance. He knelt down and kissed Laurie on the cheek one more time and prayed for a few moments.
“Laurie, I love you so much. Why did you have to leave me?” He didn’t know if he’d
ever know the answer to that question. Joe got to his feet and walked out of the
apartment. A deputy was getting out of his patrol car and putting on some rubber gloves as Joe walked up to him. “I checked for a pulse,” Joe said in a flat voice. “She’s cold. I didn’t try cpr.” The cop came out a minute later and spoke into his radio; “cancel that 10-52; cancel all first responders on that last call.”
Joe felt a sharp pain, like somebody had kicked him in the back of the head.
Crazy, dark thoughts were spinning round and round like a million fireflies going nuts in his mind. The only thing he could focus on was how good a drink would feel right about now. He doubted it would do anything for him but he didn’t much care. He wanted to get totally obliviated and forget that this day ever happened. Joe looked up at the sky and didn’t see the sun. He didn’t think he ever would.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Carolina Sky
The couple scamper home
aware of each other’s breathing
Like children they feel
the irresistible call of joy
Waking up with you
deliciously tired and sated
Takes me back to the moonlit night
where we clutched each other
under a boundless Carolina sky
Chuck Connors, December 4, 2007
aware of each other’s breathing
Like children they feel
the irresistible call of joy
Waking up with you
deliciously tired and sated
Takes me back to the moonlit night
where we clutched each other
under a boundless Carolina sky
Chuck Connors, December 4, 2007
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