IN BETWEEN DAY
You're not sad - well, yes, you are - but not for one specific thing. You're definitely not hungry. Food is not the delight it usually is for you. You walk around like a zombie in training. The day is gray gray gray. The sound of music sickens you. The phone sounds an excessively loud ring. You can barely manage a smile for the cashier at the supermarket. The mail lays unattended. The television gets an entire day off.
Are you depressed? Not really. You know if you try hard enough you can snap out of it. You just don't even want to try. The effort seems meaningless. So you wallow in your purgatory. You are having an in between day.
If you could muster up a list, you might be able to focus on what is bothering you. You begin a mental list but then your mind wanders all over the place. You think about a button missing from your favorite shirt. You'll never find a replacement which means you will never wear that shirt again. This saddens you beyond its appropriateness. Is it the button? Or is it the funeral you attended in March and not the goddamn button at all.
The in between day has you disliking everything that crosses your path. Your look of contempt is slightly disguised by the shield of dull vapor that surrounds you like an ugly rain cloud halfway ready to burst.
It isn't even 2:00 o'clock in the afternoon and you are ready for bed. You know you won't sleep but you must lie down - close your eyes and because it is an in between day - when you close your eyes you will see nothing - just darkness - no pictures. And this darkness will not comfort you.
Dinnertime comes and goes. What was it you just ate? The phone rings and you let voice mail do its job. You sit on the front porch watching the boring cars speed by. Where are they so eager to get to? Home? Why? Home. What's home?
OK, snap out of it. This is beginning to enter the realm of depression. Once you are in you may lose your way. So you try to think of something to do - some thing - anything that will supply a little ray of hope. Then the mental list starts again; music, a movie, ice cream, call a friend, drink some wine, take a walk, get a pet - a dog. OH, how you have wanted a dog. Then you remember, dogs need you around a whole lot especially in the beginning. And you also remember how bad you are at house training.
So you just sit there on your front porch that usually gives you more pleasure then is warranted - you sit there and give in to the in between day. You've had them before. This, too, will pass you archly think. And like Scarlett O'Hara, you know without a doubt that tomorrow is another day.
THE ANONYMOUS MAN
by Vincent Scarsella
Think of Fred MacMurray - young and dashing before his Disney years. Then conjure up images of Edward G. Robinson. Not the gangster E.G. but the short stout put upon E.G. yearning after beautiful women and getting them ONLY because he has money. Throw into the center of these two men Lana Turner - a young, very blond - I mean blond from head to toe as only black and white movies could do. Now, for people of a certain age, we have a triangle - a potentially dangerous triangle. It will entail murder, mismanagement of funds, greed and of course, that great old standby, lust.
When was the last time that delicious plot setup reared its devilish head? Well, folks, it's back - updated but sassy as ever in Vincent Scarsella's debut suspense novel, "The Anonymous Man". If ever a book cried out to be a movie, "The Anonymous Man" screams FILM ME! FILM ME!
I am not going to do the usual plot summation as most book reviews are want to do. I would have to spoil alert you all over the place. Let me just say, that like a Hitchcock movie or great film noir, The Anonymous Man, is worth discovering for yourself. It is, simply put, great fun with all the ingredients mentioned above. Add to the recipe clever twists and turns and a surprise ending. An added surprise for me was the authors smart insights into the dynamics of marriage, issues of self esteem and physical beauty.
I have a small quibble. I wish Mr. Scarsella had given his characters names that fit the book's locale. Set in Buffalo, a city ripe with great ethnicity - Italian, Polish, German and a large African American population, our author could have named his characters more interestingly. What we have are names like Shaw and Flaherty. Even his foray to Philadelphia - mucho Italians - we get Anglo names. But, I did say it was a small quibble. Oh, if you are from Buffalo, you may take exception to some views expressed on the Queen City. I, personally, was amused by it.
For a breezy entertainment that will leave you as satisfied as a great Buffalo fish fry or Anchor Bar wings , The Anonymous Man serves up a tart main course. For dessert, google Vincent Scarsella's short stories available on sci-fi and eBook websites as well as Amazon.com.
What if one day you could become anonymous, free of obligations, free to do what you have always wanted to do? That’s exactly what Jerry Shaw pulls off after faking his death to collect on a $4 million life insurance policy. But just when Jerry thinks he has escaped his former life, he is betrayed by his co-conspirators, his wife and best friend, and learns that a tenacious insurance company investigator is hot on his heels. You won't be able to put down this twisting and suspenseful novel, wondering if Jerry will ultimately get to do what he has always wanted, to become anonymous, just like the hero of his comic book creation, The Anonymous Man, and then not only draw his further adventures, but live them.
W O R D S
There are words and phrases that if I hear or see them one more time -
I will SCA- REAMMM!!!
Don't worry. I am sure to hear or see them again many times. The scream will be internal like an ulcer!
What are these verbal assaults? Lets begin:
1. preselected - I just got another credit card invitation because I am such a "valued customer" therefore, I have been "preselected to apply" Right - I am so valued that my preselection doesn't actually guarantee the card. It just allows me the right to apply. Oh joy! Oh rapture! I get to fill out a form in ant print that wants to know my business so it can decide if I qualify. But, wait - I was preselected. WHAT DOES PRESELECTED MEAN?? Isn't it simply - selected? Haven't I been selected. Preselected would seem to mean that before I was selected to apply I have been formerly selected which means - um I don't know what it means........forget it - I really don't need another credit card that I will not use.
2. like - Like has become the new "ya know". Except it is sprinkled over a conversation like salt on potato chips. LIKE LIKE LIKE LIKE LIKE!!!!! The way it is being used seems to indicate that nothing is literal - everything is "Like" For example, someone might say "I was LIKE really mad at him 'cause he LIKE took my car without even LIKE asking me ....LIKE." Lets break it down. No one was really mad. They were like mad. What is like mad? You are either mad or you aren't. No one took the car - they just like took the car. So why is anyone even remotely like mad - and anyway, its angry not mad. Well, you get the picture. It is as if people today fear being literal. Speaking of literal...
3. literally - "I was literally rolling in the aisles - it was so funny !" No you weren't. You were not LITERALLY rolling in anything. You were sitting in your seat literally laughing. This word means what it says LITERALLY. Please everybody GET A FUCKING DICTIONARY. Hey, here's a novel thought. Spend an afternoon googling words and their meaning BEFORE YOU SPEAK!!!
Whew - I feel better. Let's continue..........
4. so - Have you noticed how people begin a new thought with "So" - as in "So, I was walking down the street and who do you think I ran into?" It's as if they are continuing a story somewhere where they left off due to - oh, I don't know - an interruption of some sort or a sneeze! You don't begin in the middle. As Glinda said to Dorothy "It's always best to start at the beginning." Good advice, Glinda.
5. your used instead of you're - your is possessive - you're is YOU ARE numb nuts!
6. there used instead of their - there is a direction as in over there - their is another possessive as in that is their house over there
7. their used instead of they're - as in they're used to their kids stupidity
8. at the end of the day - Stop summing up with this phrase. It was fine when first bandied about NOW everyone uses it especially TV pundits. It has become a crutch. I literally cringe when I hear it. Yes, I do LITERALLY cringe.
9. I am blessed, blessed, so blessed - Here's where I almost scream. In practically every celeb interview this word or phrase is spoken. "I was blessed to get this coveted role of the stripper." "We are so blessed with high ratings for our series finale." Who is blessing these lucky people. God? God takes the time to wave his wand or whatever he waves and wallah - they get the part. You see, God could be blessing a hungry child in Rwanda but, no, he's giving Jennifer Aniston another 4 million dollar role in another innocuous romantic comedy. How blessed is that?
10. frigging, freakin', freegin - however you spell it, I find this slang more offensive then what it intends to substitute. It is so vulgar and, well, low life. Stereotypes come to mind when I hear this "word" such as an over the hill barfly, a shit kicking' redneck, a toothless grave digger, a drunk in a dive, a bartender in a dive, anyone in a dive!
11. amazing - Why is everything AMAZING today? I have had people describe a certain brand of toilet paper as amazing. A run of the mill restaurant, store, movie, book or play can no longer be described as merely good NO It's AMAZING! Let me help you out - those of you who may be guilty of this over statement. I'll tell you what's amazing - the Grand Canyon is AMAZING. Niagara Falls, the Mediterranean Sea, Italy, Hawaii, Meryl Streep, Akira Kurosawa, Barbra Streisand, spicy tuna sushi, Entemann's chocolate éclairs, classic jazz, a Sibelius Symphony, a really great meatloaf, Keurig coffee pods..............I'm getting carried away......amazing - right?
Being whisked away so abruptly by Gregory was like being caught up in Dorothy's tornado. But where Gregory led Artie - through all the spooky and the lovely - was the beginning of a revelation.
They stopped - Gregory & Artie - on a blossom heavy pathway that seemed to lead to perhaps a large expanse of more blossoms, sparkling light and warmth. As they - Gregory and Artie - proceeded toward the archway that surely was the portal to something - Artie noticed that Gregory began to transform back into his familiar physical self. Artie had the sense that the same thing was happening to him as well. Not a word was spoken but Artie felt safe with Gregory. No longer did he feel Greg was a threat. Monster Greg was no more.
They passed through the archway into an indescribable garden. Warmth and light abounded. Artie never felt so safe and good. Artie felt so very good. He felt Gregory's hand on his shoulder. Artie filled with love for Gregory.
Gregory spoke, "Well, Artie, we made it. I wasn't sure we would. But here we are."
"Its beautiful - beyond beautiful. Where are we, Greg?"
"Home", said Greg simply.
"Yes, I'm home. I am home." Greg wept with profound understanding.
"Sorry about scaring you like that. I had to pretend to be an impostor to save you from the demons." Greg explained.
"I didn't deserve to be saved after what I did," Artie said remorsefully.
"When someone commits suicide, Artie, the demons rush in to claim the soul. We fight for your salvation. In a way, this battle for your soul is your punishment for throwing your precious life away. We don't always win the battle. There has to be good souls here that want your salvation enough to put their own salvation in jeopardy. " Gregory explained.
"I knew you were my best friend." Artie said with a universe full of love toward Gregory.
"I thought that was Clifford," Greg teased, "Oh, and Jill, too."
"I love you all equally and differently," Artie jumped in eager to have Greg understand.
Gregory laughed, "Oh Artie, I know. We all know."
Jill, Clifford, Mom and Dad and Norma suddenly appeared. Artie was overwhelmed with emotion. They just all stood there shimmering - Artie, too. In this shimmer, understanding came to Artie in all its fullness. He understood that this was the first time he was seeing his family and friends. He understood that what appeared to him earlier were impostors - demons. He knew, now. He remembered his suicide. It all was revealed in this shimmer. He also understood with great relief that he was forgiven. However, he knew he would have to atone. The impostors were right about one thing. Everyone must atone. The imposters were bitter souls who refused atonement. For them no one would risk their immortality to save them. They eventually become demons hell bent on recruiting "soldiers" to fight the "atoners". Thanks to Gregory, Artie escaped an eternity of evil warfare. Artie was filled with gratitude. He wanted eagerly to atone. He couldn't wait. And, finally, Artie understood that his salvation came with the help and intervention of Gregory. This was Gregory's atonement.
"Thank you dear dear Gregory," said Artie.
"No, thank you, dear dear Artie for giving my atonement purpose. I am now a pure spirit. There is nothing more perfect then that - to be a pure spirit. I am so happy."
At that, Artie was surrounded by his friends and family. As they hugged and chatted and shimmered Artie knew this reunion was temporary. His atonement would delay their permanent joy. It didn't worry him for he knew - just like Gregory - he would return with a pure soul.
CODA
It was a cold damp morning. It had stopped raining but the dampness and grayness influenced the mood of the early hours. Melba entered the apartment as she did three days a week every week for several years. How many years was it she had been cleaning Artie's apartment. Was it seven - seven years - yes. It was Melba's favorite gig. She was certain Artie cleaned his place the night before she was to come. It was their joke. What a nice guy he was. And generous. Christmas bonuses were rather inappropriate given the light cleaning she was hired to do. Melba even balked a few times but Artie insisted saying she underestimated her worth. Case closed.
Oh, Artie was the best. He really was. Although he had seemed distracted of late and rather morose. But Melba was sure he'd snap out of it eventually. A guy like Artie has so much to live for. Aware of his sadness, Melba brought him a tin of Russian tea cakes - his favorite - she had baked precisely for him the night before. He needed cheering up she thought. And did Artie love her cookies. Oh my God, he seemed to love them more than life.
Melba went into the kitchen to place the tin on the counter with a note that said "Happy Monday, Boss!" She delighted in the fact that Artie would discover them at some point when he returned from work.
Melba left the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom where she always began her chores - making the bed etc. She entered the bedroom and sighed, "That Artie - he went ahead and made his bed. What does he need me for - sometimes I feel like I'm getting charity instead of a paycheck." She dusted a little and made her way toward his "den of inequity" as he jokingly called his home office.
Melba entered the den and saw immediately the spilled wine on the beige rug, the wine glass on the floor and slumped over the desk with his head on the computer keyboard was Artie. Melba rushed to Artie. She tapped his back, "Artie, Artie" One more rather strong back tap and Artie fell to the floor face up and apparently - most apparently dead.
Melba screamed!
THE END
Grief is a funny thing. It is experienced in many different ways. It must be. I don't find myself not eating or crying all the time or obsessing about the past. I know that is how some people grieve.
I have discovered something recently. I am a griever like everybody else. However, I do not seem to grieve like everybody else. For me it comes in waves - sometimes in moments - sometimes a prick of a sensation - an essence - and I am filled up with a presence - other times a longing - a yearning - a strange feeling of suspense as if something is about to happen - to be revealed - to change everything And the grief will turn into relief. There are those episodes where I feel like I am dreaming knowing full well I am wide awake and functioning. I think, as fleeting as these experiences are for me, grief does not come and go. Grief comes and stays. It rises to the surface - submerges - reappears as if to be fed - rests and then a while later wakes up inside of me. All the time lurking - watching - waiting to surface - not going away - like a retro virus.
How do you manage grief? You just deal. You control it rather than it controlling you. You acknowledge it - feel it - and lay it to rest. Grief will obey. This routine will keep you sane. It will even comfort you. In time, grief will become your friend. It will keep the object of your grief close to you proving that no one really dies. You won't be able to explain why this is so but you will know deep in your heart of hearts that it is true. Your well managed grief will serve as a tribute to the one for whom you grieve.
My grief is good. My grief is necessary. My grief is solace.
Episode 10 - The Truth About Artie? Gregory?
Artie spun into unconsciousness. It was some time before he came to. When he opened his eyes he was seated slumped in a large arm chair. It looked very comfortable. It wasn't. He found himself in the middle of a large space facing a tribunal. Well, that is what it looked like. In front of Artie was a very long table that stretched out forever. Seated along the expanse from left to right until he could not see beyond the limitless linear gathering were people he felt he had known in varying degrees - from very well to a slight brush. Siting in the center of this foodless banquet was Gregory. He didn't look like Greg but Artie knew it was Greg just as he recognized Jill and Jill he.
Artie was extremely scared. He had the feeling that this moment was his last. Gregory sat ominously still. The others sat still as well but with a more anticipatory air about them. They were all slightly turned inward eyeing Gregory.
As Artie perused the crowd he saw his parents, Norma, Clifford - all looking like themselves as did the others.
Artie thinks:
There's George the bartender that was always so funny at that bar on third Avenue that closed soon after George died. And I see Miss Titus my sweet high school Algebra teacher. And Lance my first boyfriend. Gosh, how long ago was that? Donny my first bully. Why does he look so kind, now? Grandma - both of them - the good one and the mean one. Was that my Grandpas next to them? I never knew them. Never even saw photographs of either grandfathers. They both passed long before I was born. It seems everyone I ever came in contact is here. But where's Jill? Shouldn't she be here as well?
Jill's absence was like a loud siren. It almost seemed on purpose - something Artie was supposed to notice - be aware of - and figure out.
And still no one spoke. Artie assumed that would be Gregory's job. After all it was obvious Greg was in charge. What was odd, however, in fact very odd, was with all these familiar faces many of whom were people he had loved, Artie did not feel safe or in any way protected. Why aren't his parents or Norma rushing to his side. Not a peep from Clifford. Boy could he use a chilled glass of Chianti right now.
And like magic his hand suddenly held a goblet of chilled Chianti. Artie just stared at the glass trembling with a new fear. He was certain they - all of the gathered ghosts were tuning in - hearing his every thought - all his thoughts - not just the appropriate ones as Jill mentioned. This group heard it all - heard the fear. He was doomed.
"Well, drink it, Artie." Gregory slithered.
Artie caught off guard by Gregory dropped the glass of wine but it did not shatter and splatter. It just disappeared. It was immediately replaced with another full goblet.
"I SAID DRINK IT!" Gregory boomed.
It would seem that Artie would drop the goblet again but fear reversed itself and Artie's grip tightened on the Goblet. Suddenly Gregory was airborne and shot out from the table directly to Artie. He was instantly in his face almost engulfing him with his evil presence........
"DRINK!!"
Artie did as he was told. It was the worst tasting Chianti he had ever had.
The room filled with laughter of a sort one hopes they will never experience. It was ugly, dirty - reeking with sin. Even his parents, Norma and Clifford were screaming this mirthless cackle. All Artie could do was sit there stunned. He then realized something else. He was crying. In fact he had been crying long before he knew it. He was crying. they were laughing and his world had disappeared forever.
Artie would never have the satisfied feeling he had been experiencing these past few years. That feeling that despite everything, he had a good life. He loved his work - his friends - his city. Life had been good. Yes, he had been losing loved ones and that was getting him depressed. But Artie was strong and he knew how to handle grief - setbacks - bad turns. These things weren't new to him. But above all else Artie was resilient and resourceful. But now it was over . The end has come. His life challenges were done. It was done He was done.
The laughter turned into a chant "Drink drink drink drink drink................"
It was unbearable. Suddenly all the seated ghosts flew from the table and filled the room like a swarm of killer bees. They buzzed around attacking Artie within an inch of his body. Flying in circles around him chanting "drink". These familiar entities began to change. They no longer looked as they did. His parents, Norma, Clifford and the rest were no longer recognizable. Swarming around Artie was a flock of hideous monsters. They were dripping and oozing. He had never seen beings such as these. Were they the demons Jill spoke of - the impostors?
Artie heard himself screaming - a shameless scream - what did he care anymore - he never lost his cool - well, that wasn't necessary anymore - it almost felt good to scream - it was his only defense - so scream he did - like a banshee - "Why Gregory - why are you with these demons? "
In the chaos -in the wild flurry of out of control demons, Gregory grabbed Artie and in one giant swoop they - Gregory with Artie flew out of sight.
.jpg)
