For those who followed my rough draft of the short novel, Day at the Beach, I'm in the middle of rewriting it, as all stories need rewrites.  Due to feedback, I have changed some chapters dramatically, and find the story far more interesting as I go along.  Unfortunately, at the same time I'm going through treatments for cancer, and I'm told that the heavy stuff is coming up this week and I can plan on being pretty sick for the next couple of months, so I doubt I'll be doing much writing until this over, and assuming I survive, which I intend to be because I can't leave a manuscript unfinished.
I am putting what I call "flash poems"  on Zazzle items and have compiled about a hundred of them, which will be in a book on Amazon and Kindle in 2012.  I don't have a title yet.  I wish you all a Merry Christmas, and if you're not a Christian, I wish you a time of love and warmth among all whom you encounter, and no, I'm not a person who follows a particular religion.




All content - poems, posts & images - are ©2010 by John Evans. No permission is given to post, share, copy, print, e-mail, reproduce, distribute or link to. All Rights Reserved. Please contact John Evans at JohnEvansPoet.Com for licensing inquiries.

Day at the Beach Ch.43

Chapter 43

It was a quiet Saturday morning. Susan sat in one of the stuffed chairs on the old wooden front porch, still in her bathrobe, her feet propped up on the porch railing. Recon lazed beneath her feet. The large expanse of pasture between the farm house and Soquel Drive made the sound of any passing vehicles almost unnoticeable. Horses and cattle concentrated on the grasses that seemed forever green beneath their hooves, the horses lifted their heads occasionally to see if Susan might bring them an apple treat.

Susan heard the screen door close behind her. Brad came into view, his hair still mused from sleep, wearing jeans and barefoot. He kissed her on the forehead as he handed her a cup of coffee. As he sat down beside her, propping his feet on the railing also, a black SUV pulled into the long driveway and rambled confidently towards them.

“Who do you suppose that is?” Susan asked.

“It has that official look to it.” Brad responded, not moving. Recon leaped up and ran out to meet the occupants. Armando Martinez and Ted Warner exited the vehicle with smiles and waves.

“Looks like the Federales are here.” Brad said. “I'd better bring out the whole pot of coffee.” He rose and went inside, returning before they reached the porch.

The two men joined them, seating themselves in two other soft chairs that surrounded a table on the porch while Recon went to each one, prodding their hands for pets and scratches with his massive head.

“What's up, gentlemen?” Brad asked as they settled in after greetings. “You aren't going to put us on another operation, are you?”

Ted Warner smiled. “We wouldn't mind having you two working for us. But, I would say you have both done a job far beyond the expectations of world patriots, much less patriots of your country.”

Ted pulled a manilla envelope from his jacket. “I wish I could give this to both of you in a formal ceremony that would recognize your actions, but, as you know we are extremely clandestine. So, Colonel, you are retired once again with a raise in rank and retirement compensation to match it.”

He turned to Susan. “And you, young lady, are being rewarded the highest commendation allowable to a civilian and the offer of a job in an executive position with the agency within your field of expertise.”

“That's very generous of you, Director.” she responded. “But, this man right here - “ she said nodding towards Brad, “has made me an offer that I'm considering.”

“What's that?” asked Armando. “What could be a better offer than international intrigue and dangerous adventure?”

“Well - “ said Susan, “I think I just had a concentrated, lifetime amount of all of that, and even though it was exciting, if not terrifying, I think what it did was lead me to what I really wanted.”

“Oh? What did you really want?” asked Armando.

She reached over and took Brad's hand. “I think this what I really wanted more than anything in the world. She waved her hand across the expanse of the view before her. “And, I recently realized, that since I was a little girl, this is where I wanted to be.”

“So, at your young age you are going to give up all that you have worked for?” asked Ted Warner.

“Not at all, Director. I have just discovered what I've been working towards Sometimes realizations come in unconventional and unexpected forms. What we all strive for is happiness and peace within ourselves. If we are very lucky, we discover what that is while we still have enough life left to enjoy it. I consider myself to be very lucky, if I pay attention and follow my own truth – my own heart.”

She paused and gazed at the scene beyond the porch railing before speaking again.

“This is what it's all about, gentlemen.” She said. “It's not about wealth and power, or fame adventure and intrigue. It's about happiness, which is a state of mind.”

She turned towards Brad. “This crazy guy has asked me to marry him, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to smell like a horse half the time, kick cow crap off my boots and raise kids. If I get bored, we can go into town for dinner. That's about as exciting as I want it to get.”

“Well, I hope that you are right.” Ted said.

“I know that I am right. I can feel it in my soul, and you cannot be more right then that.”

                                              The End

All content - poems, posts & images - are ©2010 by John Evans. No permission is given to post, share, copy, print, e-mail, reproduce, distribute or link to. All Rights Reserved. Please contact John Evans at JohnEvansPoet.Com for licensing inquiries.

Day at the Beach Ch. 42

Chapter 42


Joseph had been reading a very thick book that explored what might have happened in history if things had gone slightly differently. Some historical scholars speculate that the Jewish faith would have died had the Syrians attacked a small Jewish village in 79 AD instead of passing it by, considering it insignificant and not worthy of the effort People being what they were, which is not much different than what they are now, the village would have been destroyed and no members of the faith would have been left within its blooming center. Consequently, destruction of that village the would have been the demise of the Jewish faith in its budding form, the Christians and the Muslims would never had seen their own births, for they are offshoots of Judaism. How different would the world be today?

If a Nazi officer had not moved a briefcase because it was in the way at a meeting, Adolph Hitler would have been killed by a bomb that briefcase contained. WWII would have ended long before it did and millions of lives would have been saved. The ironies of chance seemed to show the world as haphazard at best and the speculation is that today's major religions would be something much different then what they are. It was a book of speculation by scholars, interpreting the 'what if's' of history, of which there were so many it create a book thousands of pages long. Joseph found this type of reading fascinating, but at the moment the book lay open on his lap, his head hanging to one side, the overhead reading lamp shining duly on his thin gray hair as he dozed.

The sound of the phone ringing jarred him awake with a start. “Yes.” he said into the receiver.

The voice did not identify itself, but only said, “You may complete the operation.”

“Are you sure?” Joseph asked hopefully.

“Yes, it has been a long time coming, hasn't it? The final stages are transforming as we speak. You know what to do, what we agreed upon.”

Joseph wondered how the Committee knew what was happening before anybody else did, but he didn't ask, and accepted the information as fact, for the Committee was always accurate. Joseph knew that 'chance' could always change the course of events, which is why he carefully studied each step he took, and even then remained flexible, knowing fate was determined by human foible. Being human, he was just about to do exactly that – change the course of expectation.

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When Sam Levitt, Assistant Director of the Special Unit, Anti-Terrorism, was declared lost at sea in a plane accident, the newspaper failed to mention the other passenger by name, only saying that other members of his party also passed into the good night. The other passengers was a man named Alberto De La Cruz and his assistant, Spike.

Joseph read the article and then called a phone number he had never called but had waited patiently to contact for three years.

“Joseph?' The voice asked hopefully upon answering the phone.

“Hello, Jeff.” He responded.

“My God, don't tell me it's over.”

“Yes, it is. You were right when you guessed the mole was Sam Levitt. Believe it or not, your own sister devised the plan to bring their operation down.”

“Susan? Are you telling me that they found her.”

“Yes. But, she is one tough, smart lady. She and a man named Brad sort of saved the day. Hopefully, you will get to meet him sometime in the future, but for now we will complete our deal. I will contact the agency and list our demands for the return of the weapons system.”

“They will suspect who you are.” Jeff Jenkins noted.

“It doesn't matter. We have this planned out and it has been for a long time. We're charging a finders fee of ten million for something that is worth billions. They will consider it a bargain. As soon as it is completed, you will find five million in the account that we set up. I think we can both comfortably retire on five million a piece.”

“Yes. I would say that supplements my savings quite well.”

“How do you like the island?” Joseph asked.

“It's beautiful here and the costs very reasonable. I think you will enjoy your new home.”

All content - poems, posts & images - are ©2010 by John Evans. No permission is given to post, share, copy, print, e-mail, reproduce, distribute or link to. All Rights Reserved. Please contact John Evans at JohnEvansPoet.Com for licensing inquiries.