Thursday, May 31, 2018

CHAPEL STREET - Chapter 6 - Tombstone Teri


Here's another sample chapter of my novel Chapel Street.  Keep checking back for more!


Chapter 6

Tombstone Teri

Pushing thoughts of the dark lady aside, I decided to check my email. I was surprised to see a Resting Place email notification of a private message from Tombstone Teri. I opened the email and clicked on the link that took me directly to her instant message on the Resting Place website.
You beat me. I took a picture of the Ritter grave, too, but you uploaded yours first.
I smiled.
But how to respond?  Genealogy is a hobby dependent on the goodwill of others. I couldn’t afford to gloat. I had to appear magnanimous, even though beating her was my primary goal. After a little thought, I typed my reply.
 I’m surprised I beat you to anything. You are putting up some impressive numbers.

Almost immediately after I pressed return, a response came back.
Thanks, that means a lot. I really admire your work.
A first I thought she was mocking me. I viewed her as a rival, but, then again, there was no evidence she felt the same way about me. Maybe she did admire my work. I put a lot of effort into it. It meant more to me than my work at the hospital.
Suddenly Tombstone Teri looked a lot better in my eyes.
Thanks, Teri, I typed, but what to say next?  I didn’t want to compliment her just because she complimented me. That would appear totally insincere. I decided to quit while I was ahead. So then I continued typing.
I look forward to running across you at a cemetery one day.
After pressing return, I prepared to close the browser, but Teri offered an immediate response.
I’ll be at Holy Redeemer around 1pm.
I turned to her profile image. Instead of a photograph, she had chosen a cartoon illustration of a tombstone as her avatar on the website. My thoughts went back to how Rita at Eternal Faith described her:  White, mid-thirties, kind of stiff like a high school math teacher. I mulled that description over in my mind briefly before I stopped myself. What did it matter what she looked like?  She could weigh four hundred pounds, have a full beard, and still be a talented contributor. What did I have to lose by meeting someone who admired my work?  This was just the boost I needed today.
I can be there, I typed back. Where do you want to meet?
You’ll find me, she typed back.
I had two hours to get ready, and I used every minute. After a long shower and both brushing and flossing my teeth, I agonized over what to wear. I normally wore slacks and white button down dress shirts at work, but the shirts made me look a tad overweight when I tucked them in. Outside of work, I generally wore Hawaiian-style shirts that didn’t need to be tucked in. That’s how I dressed on my cemetery expeditions, but I didn’t want Tombstone Teri to think I wasn’t sufficiently respectful of the dead. I eventually chose tan khakis and a short-sleeve, three-button, pullover Hopkins shirt. It never hurt to fly the Hopkins flag around Baltimore, or anywhere else for that matter. I was casual, but not too casual—and formal enough to take her to a nice restaurant, if things developed.
When I left the bedroom, I pointedly didn’t look at the computer. I didn’t want to see the dark woman’s mocking smile. Keeping my eyes averted, I walked over to the computer and turned off the monitor. I would deal with her later. I had more important things at hand. I had a girl to meet. I only hoped that she wasn’t already married with five children.
Holy Redeemer Cemetery was about twenty-five minutes from my apartment. I was very familiar with it. My father Stan was a mutt with mixed Bohemian, German, and Italian blood. His ancestors all immigrated directly to Baltimore between 1886 and 1919. They were all Catholic, and they were all buried on the grounds of Holy Redeemer Cemetery. All-in-all, counting spouses, about forty-five members of my extended family were resting under in its well-maintained thirty-three acres. I would happily buy a plot at Holy Redeemer if I didn’t already have a space reserved for me at Eternal Faith.
I entered the cemetery through its ornate front gate. The front section was the oldest with graves dating back to the founding of the cemetery in 1888. Monuments ranging from simple marble tombstones to thirty-foot obelisks and angelic statues adorned the grounds around me. The further one drove back into the cemetery, the more recent and boring the monuments. Thankfully, most of my relatives rested in the more interesting front sections.
I stopped my car on the hilltop overlooking the green expanse. A typical post-church Sunday afternoon crowd was scattered about the premises. I spotted about fifteen cars, but where was Tombstone Teri?  Using the telephoto lens on my trusty Nikon, I checked out the visitors one by one. Most of them were elderly couples, but I spotted a single woman parked near the grave of my great-grandparents, Jan and Kristina Bakos, with a camera hanging around her neck. That had to be her, or at least I hoped so. From a distance, she looked very nice. I set down the camera and started driving toward her. The closer I got, however, the more uneasy I felt.
Teri had nothing to do with my uneasiness. It was instead the grave of Kristina Bakos. When you live in a family decimated by suicide, it is only natural to search for the cause in the past. My search led directly to my great-grandmother. Kristina was the first member of the family to commit suicide.
Distraught over the death of her five-year-old son Vincent, Kristina killed herself by walking in front of a truck on Broadway, not far from her modest rowhouse on Chapel Street in East Baltimore. Sadly, Kristina passed her self-destructiveness to her progeny. Her son, my great-uncle Norbert, committed suicide after returning home from World War II. His military records showed that he saw heavy combat from D-Day plus six through the conquest of Germany. My father said he was quiet and moody after the war. Today, he probably would have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, but back in his day, Uncle Norbert was on his own. He shot himself with a German Luger he had picked up on a European battlefield as a souvenir.
Norbert’s older brother John also committed suicide. He drowned himself while fishing in the Chesapeake Bay a few years later. Initially everyone thought Uncle John slipped off the boat accidentally until they went to his house. Inside, they found that he had placed his will and all of his financial papers neatly on his desk along with detailed instructions concerning his burial. Despite his meticulous preparations, Uncle John left no explanation whatsoever for his actions. Neither of the brothers left any progeny. My grandfather Harold was Kristina’s only child who lived to adulthood and died of natural causes. Our branch of the family was spared the pain of suicide until the death of my brother Lenny. I couldn’t blame Kristina for my mother’s death since she wasn’t a blood descendant. Madness is not inherited by marriage.
As I parked my car, the photographer snapped photos of a classy, five-foot marble obelisk next to the grave of Jan and Kristina Bakos. She wore blue jeans and a sunny, flowered blouse. She obviously didn’t see the need for solemnity. She turned to me as I got out of my car. I spoke first as I walked toward her.
“Tombstone Teri?”
She smiled. “Please, just Teri,” she said as she walked over and extended her hand. “Teri Poskocil.”
“I’m Rick Bakos,” I said. Her handshake was firm and lingered just long enough to express some warmth.
“I know,” she said.
“Well, here’s something you don’t know,” I said, motioning to the monument beside us. “Those are my great-grandparents who came over from Bohemia.”
“I know who they are,” she replied. “That’s how I discovered you.” 
Her words caught me off guard. I had already experienced too many coincidences since I took that picture. I wasn’t in the mood for another one. Teri took a step back and motioned to the arched column monument beside my ancestors. I saw the name etched in stone and smiled:  Poskocil.
“They’re my great-grandparents.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“Nope,” she said. “Our families are neighbors, and that’s how I discovered you in the first place. When I came here to photograph their grave, I photographed the entire row, too. When I started uploading them, I saw your memorial. I was really impressed with the photos and the biographical information you included about them. And I loved the way you linked your relatives together. I took a stroll through your whole family history.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“But what impressed me even more was the information you dug up on people who weren’t even related to you:  obituaries, death notices, census information, military records,” she said, with genuine appreciation. “That’s a lot of work, and it shows a true commitment.”
“Or the total lack of a social life,” I replied truthfully.
“Then I’m guilty as charged, too,” Teri said with a laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve been following me, but I’ve been adding quite a few graves, too.”
“Oh, I know,” I replied. “You’re my biggest rival in the state.”
“Rival?” she asked, amused. “Not colleague?”
“Maybe I’m just competitive,” I answered before I confessed. “Yesterday I went out to Eternal Faith specifically to fill the Ritter request. When I went to the office, Rita told me that a woman was just in asking about her. I assumed it was you. I expected to find you in the mausoleum. When I didn’t, I took the picture and hurried home to try to get it online before you did.”
Teri laughed. “I have a confession to make, too,” she replied. “When I said you uploaded your picture first, I was lying. I never got my picture. I went there, but something about the mausoleum scared me, and I left without it.”
I felt strangely relieved that someone felt the same thing I did. It proved I wasn’t insane. But I didn’t say anything.
“I think it was the flowers,” Teri added. “It was like every flower in the place was dead except down at that new burial.”
“That wasn’t a new burial,” I said. “She’s been dead since 2014.”
“Must’ve been her birthday.”
I shook my head no.
“Well, someone must really love her.”
“I don’t think so,” I said quietly. Teri stopped and gave me a curious look. I think that was the first thing I said that surprised her. “There’s something about that woman that scares me,” I continued with unusual candor. “I can’t imagine anyone loving her.”
“Did you put up a memorial?”
I nodded.
“Do you have a picture of her?”
I nodded again.
“I gotta see it,” Teri said, taking her cellphone out of her pocket.
“Don’t,” I said, touching her hand gently. “I’ve been a little freaked out since I saw it.” Teri put the phone away. Suddenly embarrassed, I added, “I know how crazy it sounds. I mean it’s only a photo.”
“Native Americans used to believe photographs stole a person’s soul,” Teri added.
“To believe that, first you’d have to believe there is a soul.”
“Mr. Bakos, are you an atheist?” Teri asked, as an eyebrow rose.
Damn. I recognized this as one of those moments that would decide what kind, if any, relationship we would have. I decided to answer honestly but circumspectly. “I wouldn’t call myself an atheist,” I replied. “But I’m definitely a skeptic.”
Teri smiled. “That’s okay,” she replied. “We’re all skeptical at times.”
Not wishing to mislead her, I added, “I’m a skeptic most of the time.”
“I’m only skeptical about five percent of the time,” she replied. “The rest of the time I teach English at Mercy High School.”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I asked Rita over at Eternal Faith to describe you. She said you looked like a high school math teacher.”
“I am so insulted!” Teri laughed. “English teachers are so much cooler than math teachers.”
I laughed, too. Then I added, “Do you like Mexican food?”


Other Chapters:
Prologue - My Mother
Chapter 1 - RestingPlace.com
Chapter 2 - Elisabetta
Chapter 3 - The Upload
Chapter 4 - The Kobayashi Maru
Chapter 5 - Gina
Chapter 6 - Tombstone Teri
Chapter 7 - The Holy Redeemer Lonely Hearts Club
Chapter 8 - A Mourner
Chapter 9 - War Is Declared
Chapter 10 - The Motorcycle
Chapter 11 - Suspended
Chapter 12 - The Harbor
Chapter 13 - Bad News Betty

Learn more about the book Here.


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Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Top 10 Horror Films of 1980s

I am a horror fan. Always have been. Always will be. I grew up on a steady diet of late night horror films in the bygone era of Friday and/or Saturday night horror hosts. I wanted to write a blog about my Top 10 Horror Films, but I had far too many favorites to choose from. Therefore, I plan to do a series of blogs dealing with specific decades. This time we will be looking at the 1980s -- a very good decade for horror.

Now I must define what I consider horror. Many people place The Silence of The Lambs on their lists of top horror films. I do not consider films about murderers or criminals to be horror films unless there is a supernatural aspect. (That's why you will not be seeing the chilling and effective Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer on this list.) The main problem with this distinction will come in the 1990s and beyond with the popularity of "torture porn" films. However, since I generally do not enjoy those films, few would be considered for the list anyway.

I do include most sci-fi thrillers in the horror film genre if the protagonist(s) are menaced by an alien entity or man-made technological threat. I do not include films featuring unenhanced natural threats, like the shark in Jaws. Don't expect to see that film on my 70s list.

With those limitations in mind, here's my list:

10. DEAD & BURIED, 1981
Directed by Gary Sherman
Screenplay by Ronald Shusett & Dan O'Bannon. Story by Jeff Milar & Alex Stern.
Novel by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro.

The sheriff of a small seaside town, James Farentino, deals with a growing dread that his wife, Melody Anderson, might be involved in a series of gruesome murders as he plays a deadly game of cat and mouse with the coroner/funeral director Jack Albertson. The horror heightens as the dead seem to be coming back as citizens of the community.

This film is probably the least known of the films on my list. Although it was a theatrical feature, it does have a distinct made-for-TV movie vibe, probably as a result of the presence of actors like Farentino and Albertson (who gives a rare dark performance.) Still, it is a well-acted, chilling little film intelligently written by Ronald Shusett and Dan O'Bannon, names you will see again on this list.  If you haven't seen this film, check it out.  Here's the trailer:



9. DAY OF THE DEAD, 1985
Written and Directed by George A. Romero

Tensions rise between a group of scientists tasked with ending a zombie apocalypse and the soldiers assigned to keep them supplied with fresh specimens for experimentation in this claustrophobic gore-fest by undead auteur George A. Romero.

Romero is the undisputed father of the modern zombie genre. Zombie fans revere his original trilogy, Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead, the way Star Wars fans revere the original trilogy. (And, like in the original Star Wars trilogy, the second film is the best one.) Even without the unwelcome appearance of Ewoks, Day of the Dead is the weakest of the three films. The acting is uneven and often over the top and a good portion of the film is devoted simply to people shouting at each other. However, it features some amazing practical make-up and gore effects. Plus, you have to love Bub. He's everybody's favorite zombie.



8. AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON, 1981
Written and Directed by John Landis

Two American tourists backpacking on the moors, David Naughton and Griffin Dunne, are attacked by a werewolf. Dunne is killed.  Naughton survives, but he is now a werewolf, too, and followed by the mangled ghosts of his victims in this horror comedy.

I was really taken with this film upon its initial release, but it definitely has its flaws. The mix between the comedy and the horror is uneven, and the relationships, especially between Naughton and Jenny Agutter, are not effectively developed. Also, the ending is somewhat abrupt. Structurally, the film ends at what feels like it should be The Big Gloom at the end of the second act. I wanted more at the end of the film even when I saw it the first time, but I couldn't articulate why until I became a screenwriter. On the bright side, the film has some very effective sequences and some of the most amazing make-up effects produced up to that time. However, I have to subtract some points for the film being written and directed by John Landis. I haven't forgotten how his recklessness cost Vic Murrow and two children, Myca Dinh Le and Renee Sin-Yi Chen, their lives.



7. RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD, 1985
Directed by Dan O'Bannon
Screenplay by Dan O'Bannon. Story by Rudy Ricci & John Steiner & Russell Streiner

After the success of the original Night of the Living Dead [Full Movie Here], director George A. Romero and producers John Russo and Russell Streiner reserved sequel rights.  Romero could use the word "Dead" in his sequels and the producers could use the words "Living Dead" in their sequels, This is the first Living Dead sequel. Fortunately, Dan O'Bannon was brought onto the project and turned the initially serious script into one of the better horror comedies.

In this film, James Karen trains a new employee, Thom Matthews, on his duties at a medical supply company. In the process, Karen explains that the events of the film Night of the Living Dead really happened, and, as a result of an Army screw-up, some of the bodies were in containers in the basement of the building. When the two accidentally break the seal on one of the containers, a new zombie plague begins.

Although the punk rock ethos dates the film, it is enlivened by sharp writing and good performances, particularly by the old hands James Karen, Clu Gulager and  Don Calfa. This is the second of three films on this list featuring the name of Dan O'Bannon, who proved to be the go-to guy in 80s horror.




6. NEAR DARK, 1987
Directed by Kathryn Bigelow
Written by Kathryn Bigelow & Eric Red

A farm boy, Adrian Pasdar, finds himself seduced by a beautiful drifter, Jenny Wright, only to find himself a reluctant member of a roving band of white-trash vampires. Tensions rise with the other members of the group, led by the inimitable Lance Henricksen, when the farm boy resists the urge to kill and become a full member.

Kathryn Bigelow would later win an Academy Award for directing The Hurt Locker, but this film is definitely more fun. This proto-"True Blood" is a great re-imaging of the vampire myth for modern times. It also benefits from great performances from Lance Henricksen and the late Bill Paxton. I always love me some Lance Henricksen. If I get to do a horror film, I will have to write a role for him!



5. THE EVIL DEAD, 1981
Written and Directed by Sam Raimi

Five friends go to spend a weekend at a cabin in the woods that was previously used by a professor translating an ancient demonic text.  All hell breaks loose when they play a recording of the professor reading a spell.

I found myself in a bit of a quandary regarding this film. Do I include this version, the original, on the list, or the  1987 "sequel" The Evil Dead II, which is essentially a remake of the first film with a higher budget. Although I consider the second version to be better, I included the first version on the basis of sheer originality. I must confess that the first film slipped completely under my radar when it was theatrically released. I didn't see it until it came out on VHS. I was instantly smitten. Sam Raimi's directorial talent was evident immediately, but it didn't hurt to have Bruce Campbell in the lead role.



4. A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, 1984
Written and Directed by Wes Craven

A supernatural killer murders local teenagers in their dreams.

In this film, Wes Craven birthed the most iconic monster of the 1980s cinema horror: Freddy Krueger. Krueger, with his burned face, his glove of blades, and his jaunty hat, quipped his way through more killings than Roger Moore's James Bond. He was played with style by Robert Englund in a seemingly endless series of sequels. The sequels certainly yielded diminishing returns over time, but the first film epitomized a great idea executed in an admirable fashion. This film also introduced us to the young Johnny Depp. That was a good thing.  At first.



3. ALIENS, 1986
Directed by James Cameron
Screenplay by James Cameron
Story by James Cameron, David Giler and Walter Hill
Based on characters created by Dan O'Bannon & Ronald Shusett

Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) travels with a futuristic military unit to a recently colonized planet to battle the seemingly unbeatable aliens.

Although a lot of familiar names from this list show up here (Dan O'Bannon, Ronald Shusett, Lance Henricksen and Bill Paxton), this film is really James Cameron's baby. Structurally, the film seems to fit more into the military action genre than either a horror or even science fiction.  The structure would have worked just as well if these characters were fighting Nazis instead during World War II. The characters are sharply-drawn and well-written and the action is exciting and well-paced.  It is a different kind of film than the original Alien, but just as good in its own way. None of the following sequels managed to live up to these first two films. A must see.



2. THE THING, 1982
Directed by John Carpenter
Screenplay by Bill Lancaster. Story by John W. Campbell, Jr.

An isolated team at an antarctic station find themselves battling a deadly alien life form with the power to duplicate its victims.

This film is a remake of 1951's The Thing From Another World. That was an excellent film for its time, and will probably make my list for that decade, but this version is superior. This paranoid creature feature hums on all cylinders throughout. The all-male cast oozes early-80s machismo. Martin Scorsese had Robert DeNiro as his cinematic alter-ego. John Carpenter had Kurt Russell, and in this film Kurt finally achieves maximum Russellness. He was a fun actor to watch throughout the 80s. He was always convincing as a tough guy, but always displayed a cynical, laconic sense of humor. I was delighted to see him make a comeback in Tarantino's The Hateful Eight. Additionally, this film boasted great production values and art direction and first rate practical creature effects. Few of today's computer-generated monsters hold a candle to the effects in this film.



1. THE SHINING, 1980
Directed by Stanley Kubrick
Screenplay by Stanley Kubrick & Diane Johnson.  Novel by Stephen King.

The winter caretaker of the isolated Overlook Hotel falls prey to evil spirits inhabiting the place and tries to murder his wife and telepathic son.

Stanley Kubrick was one of the true masters of cinema. It shouldn't be surprising that when he decided to make a horror movie, he would make one of the best ones ever. Yes, I know it veered away from the book. Yes, I know Stephen King didn't like it. I don't care. This is pure cinema. This is a genuinely creepy and scary film with great, albeit over the top performances, by Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall. This film is one of the few true masterpieces of the genre. If you haven't seen it yet, what are you waiting for?

On a more serious note, I don't know if Kubrick's reputed bullying of Shelley Duvall to get the performance he wanted constitutes a #MeToo moment, but it certainly wasn't cool. That said, I do not boycott this film.


Honorable mention:

DEMONS, 1985.  I can't believe I couldn't make room for this little Italian gem. It is definitely worth checking out. FRIGHT NIGHT, 1985. I really enjoyed this suburban vampire tale but it just didn't have the gravitas to make the list. FRIDAY THE 13TH, 1980. Effective, but to me, Jason is just a summery rip-off of Michael Myers. PHANTASM II, 1988. This sequel is more straightforward and logical than the original film, but doesn't pack the same emotional punch. THE LOST BOYS, 1987. Another excellent update on the vampire myth that caught the zeitgeist of the time. It is sad to learn the set was a bit of a pedophile smorgasbord. THE RE-ANIMATOR, 1985. Great little Lovecraft adaptation, but I couldn't see dropping any of the other films to put it in the Top 10. GREMLINS, 1984. It's really not a horror movie, is it? HELLRAISER, 1987. I certainly appreciate the iconic character of Pinhead, but the film itself doesn't rise to the level of a classic.  Check out our podcast on it. POLTERGEIST, 1982. A good movie, but more Spielberg than Hooper. It lacks the subversive edge to make the Top 10.

Here's the Yippee Ki Yay Mother Podcast's review of 1987's Hellraiser:



Other Lists:



My novel Chapel Street is now available! You can currently buy the Kindle and paperback at Amazon and the Nook, paperback and hardcover at Barnes & Noble.


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Tuesday, May 29, 2018

CHAPEL STREET - Chapter 5 - Gina


Here's another sample chapter of my paranormal thriller Chapel Street.  Keep checking back for more!


Chapter 5

Gina 

Sunday morning.
The bright, morning sunlight hit my face from between the curtains of my bedroom window and awakened me gently. Blinking into the warm light, the world felt reassuringly normal again. The purifying rays washed away all of the weirdness of the day before. Maybe it was all a dream, I thought with great relief until I moved. The residual pain in my neck and back dispelled my wishful thinking.
I crept out of the bedroom cautiously. I expected the smirking face of Elisabetta Kostek to greet me from my computer screensaver. Instead, I found a photograph of my entire family taken at my grandparents’ house the Christmas before my father died. There were not many pictures of the five of us. My father died when Janet was only four-years-old. She had practically no memory of him. Sometimes I couldn’t blame her for escaping to California when she had the chance. She didn’t experience the good times so why should she stay and endure the madness?
As the image of my family dissolved into one of the thousands of tombstones I had photographed for Resting Place, I walked to the sliding door leading to the balcony. The overturned deck chair was further evidence that I had…
I stopped in mid-thought. What had I actually done?  Really. I had a nightmare, and I walked in my sleep. That was all. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t suicidal. I wasn’t like Lenny at all. Furthermore, it had nothing to do with that stupid picture. I turned back to the computer, and there she was smirking at me.
“It’s just a coincidence,” I said aloud.
There had to be a rational reason why Elisabetta’s photo now appeared so regularly on the screensaver. While I walked toward the desk, the image of her face dissolved into the photo of her grave. That made me think. Perhaps the screensaver had some internal preset that favored the more recent photos. That made sense. People would want to see their most recent photos most often, right?  The people who designed the program probably took that into account. I was just surprised I hadn’t noticed it earlier.
I sat down at the computer. While I was reaching for the mouse to turn off the screensaver, the photo of the Kostek grave dissolved into a photo of my ex-girlfriend Gina Holt taken at a party the year we met. It was the first photograph of us together. She was smiling at the camera, but my face was turned slightly. Still, it was a great picture. Gina was quite fetching in it. Her hair was short, almost Tom Boy-ish, but nothing else about her was reminiscent of a guy. She wore tight stretch pants and a shirt that showed off her cleavage in a tasteful manner. Very sexy. I was always attracted to voluptuous girls. She was Rubenesque, but my mother saw things differently.
“You can do better than that fat girl,” she always said. Not that my mother was into body shaming, per se. Why would she limit herself to the physical when, in her eyes, every single aspect of Gina was worthy of criticism?
Turns out I proved my mother wrong.
I had not done better since our breakup.
The party picture dissolved to another photo of Gina and me taken on Thanksgiving at her parent’s house. Her family really liked me, and I liked them, too. They had even moved their Thanksgiving meal to early in the afternoon so I could share it with them. That was the only way I could have seen them. It was impossible for me to bow out of spending a holiday with my mother. Even Lenny, at the height of his madness, always found his way home on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. None of his inner demons were as formidable as our mother’s wrath.
The picture changed again to one I took of Gina at an Orioles game. She was seated and looking up. Her smile captured me. She seemed so happy that day. I could see the genuine love in Gina’s eyes despite the seeds of doubt my mother planted in my heart. My mother was relentless. She even got spiritual ammunition from a fortune-teller friend, who predicted doom for our relationship.
I couldn’t blame my mother, despite the heartache she caused. I understood what motivated her. Having tragically lost her husband, she wasn’t about to lose another man in her family. Still, knowing my mother’s motives didn’t prevent her words from poisoning me. I could see that now. This picture reminded me that Gina truly loved me. She really did, and she paid her dues by playing second fiddle to my mother for years.
The image changed to yet another photo of Gina and myself. This was getting freaky. Although we were together for five years, I only had twenty-seven pictures of us together. It was statistically impossible that four of them would play randomly back-to-back on the screensaver. Nor was it a good thing. The flood of memories they produced wasn’t positive, especially this photo taken at her sister Kate’s wedding.
The wedding was the closest Gina and I ever came to walking down the aisle together. Gina was the maid of honor. I was one of the groomsmen. We stood on the altar during the entire ceremony. Our eyes would periodically leave the happy couple and find each other. Her smile nearly melted my heart. To cement things, I even caught the bride’s garter at the reception, which wasn’t difficult since Kate had her new husband lob it directly at me.
Our marriage was a given to everyone but my mother. Neither of us doubted it. We often discussed where we would live and how many children we would have. The one thing we never discussed was when. Although, the answer was obvious—when my mother finally loosened her grip on me. Gina showed an extraordinary amount of patience during her long, emotional game of chess with dear old momma. She tried befriending her. She tried battling her. She tried indifference, but my mother remained resolute and unchanging through it all. Even cancer didn’t weaken her. In the end, mom managed to keep her grip on me beyond the grave through those awful nightmares.
Gina thought it would be easier after my mother died. I know I did, but that was before the nightmares began. Still, even without the nightmares, I doubt the relationship would have ended in marriage. I just couldn’t ask the question, and I couldn’t bring myself to say yes when Gina did. Maybe if she waited until I was through the mourning process, but I suppose she felt she had waited long enough. She wanted a family, and it didn’t look like I would ever provide it. Studying this photo with her arm looped around mine and that beautiful smile I took for granted, I wish I could have married her. Instead, I had to endure the guilt of having wasted five years of her life.
Then my cellphone rang. I turned to it. The Caller ID displayed Gina’s number.
Impossible. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
When Gina finally walked away, we resolved to remain friends, but our phone calls grew fewer and further in between. Most of her calls came when she needed a shoulder to cry on during her break-ups with her subsequent boyfriends. She also gave me a heads-up when she started dating a new guy. I got the latest call about two months earlier when she began dating Chuck. There could only be one reason for her call now: Chuck was out of the picture. I was fully prepared to console her as I reached for the phone because I was genuinely sympathetic. I knew what it was like to be alone, and I realized it suited me more than her.
“Hi, Gina,” I said. My voice was cheerful. Despite the inherent awkwardness, I still enjoyed talking to her.
“Hi, Rick,” she replied in a voice husky with excitement. “How are you doing?”
“Same as always,” I replied. No lie there.
“I’m calling because I have some exciting news, and I don’t want you to find out about it on Facebook first.”
“I’m not on Facebook.”
“I know, I know, but I’m still friends with Mike and Bob and your sister, and I don’t want you to hear it from them first.”
“What is it?” I asked, dreading the news.
“Chuck and I are getting married,” she said, barely resisting the urge to squeal girlishly.
“Wow,” I said quietly. Gina was getting married. To someone else. I knew it would happen eventually, but it still took me by surprise.
“I’m so happy.”
“I’m happy for you,” I said, before adding, “But isn’t this a little sudden?  You’ve only been going out with him for about two months, right?”
“Almost three,” Gina corrected me, and then she added, “But, yeah, I know what you mean. The timing was a little unexpected. So was the way he did it. You know me, Rick. I’m a romantic. I expected a ring at the bottom of a glass of champagne at an expensive restaurant, but he just sprang it on me last night while we were driving back from his niece’s wedding in Youngstown. God, it must have been three o’clock in the morning. I was sleeping. He just nudged me and asked me to marry him. I said yes. When I woke up this morning, I was afraid it might have been a dream, but it wasn’t. We’re off to buy a ring this afternoon.”
“Well, congratulations,” I said weakly as I turned to the computer where the screensaver shifted to yet another picture of Gina and myself, as if to mock me. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Are you, Ricky?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
“Thanks. So do you,” she said. “I’m sure there’s a girl out there for you.”
“You’re more confident than me,” I said.
“You just have to step out, Ricky,” she said. “Sometimes, I think you’re like The Boy in the Plastic Bubble. You’ve got to let someone in.”
The Boy in the Plastic Bubble?  Where had I heard that?
Lenny.
Last night.
That couldn’t be a coincidence. What the hell was going on here?
“What made you bring up The Boy in the Plastic Bubble?” I asked, too quickly.
A cautious intake of breath came across the phone. There was a moment of silence before she replied, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to make you mad.”
“No, no, I’m not mad,” I answered. “It’s just that someone else said that to me last night.”
“Who?”
Who?  An honest answer to that question would send me to the loony bin. “It doesn’t matter,” I finally answered. “The only thing that matters is that you’re getting married, and I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Thanks, Ricky. That means a lot,” she said. “You’re always going to be one of my best friends.”
“Same here, Gina,” I said.
“I’ll try to get you an invitation to the wedding,” she added, “But the whole ex-boyfriend thing might be weird for Chuck.”
“You don’t have to invite me,” I said. “I don’t need to go to the wedding to know that you’ll be a beautiful bride.”
I heard her smile on the other side of the line.
“I’ll tell you what, though,” I added. “I promise I’ll join Facebook to look at the wedding pictures if you post them.”
“Will do, Ricky,” she said.
Then she hung up.
I didn’t know what to think. Our break up truly devastated me, but I also felt strangely relieved. I spent most of my life living under the pressure of my mother’s expectations. Then, when she died, I had to contend with Gina’s expectations. It wasn’t until after we broke up that I felt I was truly charting my own course, as pathetic as it might seem to others. Still, part of me clung to the option of going back to her. She was my safety net. Now she was gone forever.
Man, I never wanted her as much as I did at that moment.
I chuckled at the irony. I didn’t believe in God, but, if He did exist, this proved He was a cruel prankster. He fulfilled Gina’s most heartfelt desire at the same time I nearly sleepwalked myself to death. Talk about freaky. I turned back to the screensaver expecting to see yet another photo of Gina and myself, but instead, I found the dark lady staring at me.
“No,” I said aloud.
I refused to believe the unstated implications of that series of randomly selected photographs. The dark woman didn’t have anything to do with this turn of events. It was just a coincidence. I grabbed the mouse and made her disappear.

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Other Chapters:
Prologue - My Mother
Chapter 1 - RestingPlace.com
Chapter 2 - Elisabetta
Chapter 3 - The Upload
Chapter 4 - The Kobayashi Maru
Chapter 5 - Gina
Chapter 6 - Tombstone Teri
Chapter 7 - The Holy Redeemer Lonely Hearts Club
Chapter 8 - A Mourner
Chapter 9 - War Is Declared
Chapter 10 - The Motorcycle
Chapter 11 - Suspended
Chapter 12 - The Harbor
Chapter 13 - Bad News Betty

Learn more about the book Here.


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