Copyright 2015. Torch Legacy Publications. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except for brief quotations included in a review of the book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Writer's Life




A SERIAL NOVEL

by Daniel Whyte III
with Meriqua Whyte

In the degree that we remember and retell our stories and create new ones we become the authors, the authorities, of our own lives.
Sam Keen

Chapter 1

34-year-old Shirley Kidd, 29-year-old Nikki Rodriguez, and 37-year-old Hermoth Reeding sipped on their coffee in a booth in the far corner of their favorite Chicago cafe, Java Bistro. Nikki tapped her foot on the tile floor as she glanced at her watch.Has anyone seen or heard from Clara Bow? Its not like her to turn up late and not let us know something, she said, peering through one of the windows to scan the busy parking lot. Nikki Rodriguez had beautiful Latina brown skin, brown eyes, and shoulder-length brunette hair. She was a wife of six years and a mother of twin girls. As a stay-at-home mom, she had plenty of time to focus on her goal of becoming a bestselling author.Give her a few more minutes, Hermoth said as she shuffled her religious fiction manuscript around. She brushed her bouncy black curls out of her dark brown, heart-shaped face. Although she had lived in the United States for nearly twenty years, she still hadnt lost her Bahamian accent. That unexpected downpour will set anyone behind schedule. The rain seems to be letting up though, Hermoth continued.I sure wish shed hurry because I cant stay out as late as we did last week, Shirley said swallowing the last of her cheese pastry. She signaled to a waitress for coffee refills. You can just leave the coffee pot here, Tamron. Well be needing it this morning! Her light brown eyes sparkled as she ran a hand through her jet black hair.Tamron, who worked the weekday morning shift, was well acquainted with the four friends who met there every week to sip coffee and occasionally indulge in the fine pastries as they discussed each others manuscripts. Okay, Tamron said. You know I enjoy hearing your conversation and laughter as I work.Shirley nodded, We might have to drag you into another discussion soon if we cant agree on something. Youre one of our most helpful critics.So, why cant you stay out as late? Hermoth asked, turning her attention to Shirley.Oh, nothing serious. Dougs been complaining lately that I stay out too much and dont spend enough time with our kids. I know his job as a police officer can be stressful, but lately it seems he has been taking it out on me.What do you mean? Nikki asked.Well, he just clams up. Its such a struggle to get him to communicate, Shirley said.If he doesnt want to talk why dont you just leave him alone? Hermoth asked, taking a sip of her coffee.We cant have a marriage if we dont communicate, Shirley said. Ive heard of husbands and wives doing the silent treatment. I cant live like that.Mmm, I agree, Nikki said.Shirley nodded. As a little girl, I dreamed of marrying a policeman. She shrugged. But Douglas just doesnt want to talk most times. Ive just about given up on any kind of romantic time together.Lets get started on our writing. Ill try to get Clara Bow on my cell again, Hermoth said.No need to. Here she comes, Nikki said spotting her car as it entered the restaurants parking lot.

Chapter 2

Hey, everybody, 26-year-old Clara Bow Wilson said sliding into the empty seat. Her normally perfect blonde hair was wet with rain, but her blue eyes brimmed with excitement. You will not believe what happened to me. You know how I love to take pictures. Well, my tire went flat as I drove over here. On top of that, I forgot to charge my phone up. So here I am, by the side of the road, wondering what to do. This man in a red Volkswagen stops to help me. It looked like the Volkswagen had been painted with a paint brush. The paint job was so shoddy, I could still see the original blue paint underneath the red. But, since the man was real nice about it, I let him change my tire, but I kept thinking Id seen him somewhere before.Well, did you ask him his name or anything? Nikki asked.No, he had already introduced himself as Mylo Easton. He would not look me in the eyes even though I tried to get him to. Clara Bow poured herself a half cup of coffee and dumped several spoonfuls of sugar in it, then filled the cup with milk. I did notice that half of his middle finger was missing.So? Hermoth said.Clara Bow continued, As I said, I felt sure I had seen him somewhere before. I had picked up two sets of pictures I had developed at the Photo Mart earlier. When I stopped at the light, I was going through them as I waited and guess what? The very same man was in one of my pictures!So? Hermoth asked again.He had on the same plaid green shirt, jeans, and brown boots.And? Hermoth said.Andas I looked at the picture, it seemed as though he were shoving someone into a blue Volkswagen. Clara Bow pulled the blurry picture out of her notebook and set it on the table in front of her friends. She pointed to what looked like feet sticking out of the door of a blue Volkswagen in the upper right corner of the photograph. Definitely a womans feet; the shoes are a giveaway. And theyre right next to an ATM machine.Hmm. Thats interesting, Nikki said picking up the picture to look at it closely. Are you sure about this?Of course, Im sure, Clara Bow said. You know I work part-time at the newspaper. They ran an article under the missing persons section about a mother, Mayzie Dawkins, who has been missing for about a week. She just seems to have disappeared. I bet thats her.You may be on to something, Nikki saidWhat are you getting at? Shirley asked.This Mylo Easton is wearing the same clothing as the man in the picture, and I could tell his red Volkswagen had once been blue.Clara Bow, you speculate about things way too much, Hermoth said.Well, I am studying journalism. Its my job to question things and there is something very wrong with this picture, Clara Bow said. She picked up the picture and looked at it again before placing it back in her notebook. Im trying to decide whether or not to take it to the police.Well, while you think, were going to discuss our manuscripts. I hope you did some work on yours, Nikki said.I think Ill keep the novel I brought with me to myself and begin working on a new novel:The Mysterious Michelin Man. He did change your tire, didnt he? Shirley joked.

Chapter 3

Okay, Hermoth, whats up with your character, Dr. Justin Middlebrooks? Nikki asked. When we last met, his wife had died of cancer and he was looking for another wife.Yes, Hermoth said. He does want to get married again, but he is also being accused of fraud by the state medical board. Hes been scamming patients, forcing them to pay exorbitant prices and keeping the profits for himself, Hermoth said.Is he going to get busted? Shirley asked.Oh, hes going to get busted alright when he least expects it by the person he starts to trust the most, Hermoth said.Let me guess, Clara Bow said. His new wife.Correct, Hermoth replied. But she wont be his wife yet. Shell find out about this before they get married.Youll need some romance to keep the story lively, Shirley suggested. Id do anything for some romance in my life.Speaking of romance, Nikki said to Shirley. How is your new novel coming along?Im still slogging through what they call the murky middle, Shirley said. She sighed. I have my damsel in distress, but the man who is supposed to come rescue her is such a deadbeat right now. They dont seem to be on the same page at all Kind of like me and my husband.I suggest you lose yourself in your story, Clara Bow said. Dont think about your own marriage. Get in tune with your characters and let them go. If your characters are talking to you all the time, you wont need anybody else talking to you most of the time.And remember the most important thing we all can do when it comes to writing is when youre stuck in a story, pray through it, Nikki said.Thats good advice for life, too, Hermoth said.The women spent the next hour critiquing each others manuscripts, applauding progress made, and offering ideas and suggestions for each others novels.Guys, Ive had a great time as usual, but I should head on home now, Shirley said.Now? Its only two oclock, Clara Bow said.Well, my husband is still insisting that I should be home more, even though the kids are back in school, Shirley said. You might not see much of me for a few weeks.Oh, no, you cant do that, Nikki said. Sister Soul Scribes would not be the same without you.Well, thank you, Nikki, Shirley said. But I dont want to rock the boat tonight.

To be a person is to have a story to tell.
Isak Dinesen

Chapter 4

Shirley Kidd made it home to find her husband, Douglas, dressed in his police uniform, ready for work. He had been a part of the Chicago police force for eight years, and his goal was to eventually become chief of police. Shirley stepped into the living room where he was watching sports highlights on ESPN.Hi, Doug. Your haircut looks great, she greeted her husband.Yeah. I decided to make a quick trip to the barber shop after you left, he said. I see you made it home earlier today. That lets me know you dont have to stay out as late as you usually do.Shirley was disappointed at his tone, but she decided to let it go. We wrapped things up earlier today. Do you want me to fix you something to eat before you go in?Nah. Im good. I grabbed something on the way back from the barber shop.Shirley glanced at her watch. It read 3:15.The children should be home any minute now.She picked up the briefcase she had set down on the floor preparing to take it up to her writing desk which was tucked away in her walk-in closet.Do youhaveto meet with your writing friends on Tuesday mornings? Doug said. Couldnt you meet later in the day? Maybe after the children come home from school so you can take them with you?Shirley sighed. Doug, we already went over this. Weve been meeting at eleven on Tuesday mornings for the past six months because it works best for all four of us. Remember, we tried meeting in the evenings, but that didnt work out. Nikki likes to be home in the evenings with her kids; Hermoth is too tired after putting in nine hours on her job each day; Clara Bows schedule is touch and go; and you said you wanted me home with the kids while youre at work at night. Shirley switched her briefcase to her left hand and propped her right hand on her hip. And its not that we dont want our children along, we just need that time to really focus on writing without any distractions. Its going to be hard for them to sit still for almost four hours as we discuss our manuscripts.The blowing of the school bus horn interrupted their conversation. Both parents hurried out the door to meet their three children. Nine-year-old Brax was holding his six-year-old sister Cherrys hand. Seven-year-old Rose skipped along beside them.Mommy! Daddy! they shouted as they waved good bye to their friends. They hurried up the pathway to embrace their parents.Doug checked the security system as he said goodbye to his wife and children. Shirley leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his face and her lips landed on his cheek.Why do I even bother?Shirley sighed as she locked the door behind him.Id do anything for you to tell me whats on your mind.After spending time with Brax, Cherry, and Rose at the Putt-Putt Golf and Arcade, she gave the children dinner and put them to bed.Four hours for me to get some writing done before Doug comes home.Shirley withdrew into the walk-in closet that she had transformed into a writing room. She knew most women would covet a closet like hers and the clothes and shoes to fill it but since her life-long dream was to be a published author, she had given all that up to use this space to reach her goals. The extra clothes and shoes could come later after she signed her first book deal.Shirley tapped the power button on her laptop and scrolled through the pages of what she had already typed. Lets see where I left off Rhetta decides to work late to get caught up on her clients files. The doors are locked and all the lights are off except for the one in her office. Thats when she hears scraping sounds at the door.This is where I pick up, Shirley said.

Rhetta sat up and strained to listen. There it was again a scraping sound coming from the direction of the entrance. She got up slowly and quietly locked the door to her office. She looked out the window toward the security guards booth about fifty yards away at the entrance to the property.The light in the booth was on and she thought she could see someone moving.She heard the scraping noise again. Rhetta listened some more, wishing her heart beat would quiet down. She picked up the phone and dialed for security. No answer. Rhetta forced herself not to think the worst as she remembered the recent news reports about a burglar breaking into businesses in the area. Rhetta looked back out the window. Her heart nearly stopped as she watched the light flicker and then go out in the security guards booth.Rhetta sat back down at her desk and dialed 9-1-1. After explaining the situation to the dispatcher she sat and waited, too nervous to get back to her work.She decided to call her fianc as well even though they were at odds with each other. Come on, answer, she said into the mouthpiece. When he failed to pick up after the fourth try, she left a message asking him to call her back and to come pick her up at work. Even if the police showed up, she didnt want to walk out to the huge parking lot alone. Anyone could be lurking there.As she pressed the End button on her phone, she listened for the scraping noise again. It was gone.In its place, she heard the squeak of shoes on the tiled floor of the lobby.

Shirley was now in a groove. Lose yourself in your story, Clara Bow had told them at their meeting earlier that day. Get in tune with your characters and let them go.

Chapter 5

Nikki Rodriguez threw her hands up in despair. Her pen fell on the table and rolled onto the carpeted floor. She looked down at it grimly. Her brown hair was pulled away from her face and was high up on her head in a messy ponytail. The clock registered 6:27 A.M. Nikki had been up since 4:00. Two hours of writing each morning helped to jump-start her days. The quietness of the early morning was the perfect setting and greatly aided her creativity.But this morning, nothing seemed to be working.Come on. Think. Unlock your mind. You can do better than this.She reached for her yellow legal notepad, tore the first two sheets off, stared at them, crumbled the sheets, and threw them in the waste basket.Theres no such thing as writers block, she recalled reading in a copy ofHow to Write Great Fiction. Apparently you have never had writers block, she said out loud, because I have it right now.Just write as quickly as the thoughts come, she said repeating another line she read in her fiction writing book. Well, right now, the thoughts arent coming.After spending five years writing non-fiction, Nikki had decided to try her hand at fiction. She had written several pieces for the intercollegiate monthly magazine focused on U.S. college life for young Latino immigrants. She also wrote for various housekeeping magazines, the Home and Garden section of the citys newspaper, and a few other publications.Nikkis husband, Raphael, was already up and had coffee brewing.Just what I need,she thought as she sniffed. The smell of freshly brewed coffee coupled with toasted cinnamon rolls enticed her taste buds. Raphael would be leaving for work within the next hour. He owned a taxi/limousine company and the business was flourishing. Nikki glanced at the clock. Any minute now, Raphael would knock softly on the door of her office in their three bedroom house. The spare bedroom served as a getaway spot for her to do her writing. Raphael would have two cups of coffee, and either slices of buttered toast, cinnamon rolls, raisin bagels, or some other breakfast delicacy. The minutes that followed made up their special time together each morning.Mmm. Delicious, Nikki said after taking a couple sips of her coffee. Thank you so much, honey.Youre quite welcome. Raphael pulled up the only other chair in the room and sat next to his wife. So, hows your writing coming along? he asked glancing down at the blank legal pad on her desk. Apart from the women of the Sister Soul Scribes group, her husband was her greatest fan and critic.Not too good, Im afraid, Nikki admitted rubbing the nape of her neck.Let me do that for you, Raphael said sliding his chair closer to his wife. He reached over and began massaging her neck and shoulders.I want to focus on family issues and on everyday conflicts families in general go through. It does not have to be over-dramatic, but dramatic enough to hold the readers interest.Well, why dont you write about us? How we met, got married, moved from Guatemala to America, struggled a bit, and then became stable financially. I believe we have a story to tell.No offense, but I think that would bore our readers, Nikki said. For one thing, we really did not have any struggles because God had everything under control. He gave you the wisdom to invest and have your limousine company up and running before we moved here.At the mention of God, Raphael stopped massaging with one hand and pressed his fingers to his forehead. Nikki continued, And, two, we live a simple life; were an average family. Nothing dramatic ever happens. Thanks for the suggestion anyway.Are you saying our family life is boring? her husband asked. I dont know about you, but I wouldnt want any other life.Me neither, Nikki sighed.Well, Ill keep an eye on the twins, Raphael said finishing off his coffee. You go jogging around the block. That should help clear your mind and get you to thinking. I already went out and it looks like well be having great weather today.

Chapter 6

Hermoth Reeding was the first to arrive for the next Sister Soul Scribes meeting. Its unusual to see this many people here on a late Tuesday morning, she thought as she set her folder down on the table in their booth. Tamron, the waitress, had put up a Reserved sign for her four writing customers whom she had come to befriend.Hi, Ms. Reeding, Tamron said as she walked up to the table with a pot of freshly brewed coffee in one hand and eight apple turnovers on a plate in the other hand.Call me Hermoth, Hermoth said with a smile as she set her manuscript to the side. She held her cup as Tamron filled it with coffee.Anything interesting happen to you lately? Hermoth asked Tamron. Im looking for story ideas.No. Nothing much, Tamron said laughing. At least not anything worth putting in a book.Youd be surprised, Hermoth said taking a sip of her coffee after overloading it with caramel creamer and honey. Each of us has a story within us and a story we are living; we just have to know how and when to tell it.I guess I have to live a little more for my story to develop, Tamron said placing the pot of coffee in the center of the table. Let me know if you need anything, and Ill let you know when I have a story to tell. She left to tend to her other customers.Hermoth slid her manuscript in front of her.I did not get too far with Dr. Justin Middlebrooks story,she thought as she read the last two chapters of what she had written since the last time the group had met. After reading for a few minutes, her mind shifted from the last sentence of her manuscript to the telephone conversation she had just yesterday with her sister.Wow! Something intriguing must be happening to Dr. Middlebrooks, Shirley said breaking into her thoughts. I have never seen such concentration before. Have you, Nikki?The stern expression on your face is telling me that Dr. Middlebrooks may be in trouble, Nikki said. And the plot thickens!Hermoth looked up surprised. Hello there. When did you get here? Hermoth asked. I must have been a million miles away.More like ten million miles away, Nikki said. Tell us whats happening in your story.Hermoth laughed. I must confess: my mind was not on my story. It was on my sister. She called yesterday to inform me that she would be flying in from the Bahamas with my father to permanently deposit him at my place.And youre not too happy about that? Shirley said.You got it. Its not that I dont love my father. Its the way she went about doing it.The way who went about doing what? Clara Bow said sliding into her seat and grabbing an apple turnover.Morning, Clara Bow, Nikki greeted.The way my sister went about planning the rest of my life without my knowledge or my approval, Hermoth answered. She called me yesterday, then after about ten minutes of beating around the bush she finally tells me she will be flying in from the Bahamas on this Friday with my father.Whats so bad about that? Clara Bow asked.Whats so bad about that is my father will be staying with me permanently.So? From what youve shared with us about your family, hes a good man, Clara Bow said.He is except he has Alzheimers. My sister would not tell me what stage hes at. All she would say was he can still carry on a decent conversation and can still take care of his basic needs. So, there goes my quiet undisturbed writers life. I hate it when people try to control my life; my sisters good at that. Shes been doing that since we were little girlstelling me what Im going to do, how Im going to do it, and when Im going to do it.So are you going to let him stay?I have no choice. She only bought him a one-way ticket, Hermoth said.It probably wont be that bad. Plus, Im sure hell be good company for you, Shirley said.Im sure hell beinterestingcompany, Hermoth said, but after dealing with customers for nine hours, Monday thru Friday, I want the evenings to myself: to rest, relax, refocus. I want to be able to really writeyou knowgo into the world of imaginationthe world of what ifs, and what could be, and what should be.Her friends nodded. They each understood and treasured quiet time away from distraction.See this as Gods will for your life right now, Nikki said. Isnt doing Gods will your desire?Of course, except that this seems more like my sisters will right now, Hermoth said.Who knows, you may get a life-changing story out of it. As you know, its the novels that we write based upon true life experiences that have the greatest impact, Nikki continued.Well, enough of whats going on with me; lets get some work done, Hermoth said.Ill go first, Clara Bow said. I sent off three pictures with a story behind each toTimeMagazines acquisitions editor. Pray that theyll accept at least one of them if not all three.Wow!TimeMagazine. Youre moving on up, Shirley said.Yes. I figured I should start reaching for those big prizes, Clara Bow said. Being a photographer for the Chicago Sun-Timeshas been great, but a byline inTimecould do wonders.After bringing them up to speed on her story, Shirley asked, Im trying to decide if Rhettas fiance shows up or if he leaves her hanging because hes still mad.Only a cold-hearted man would leave a woman hanging in a situation like that, Hermoth said. Let him leave her hanging and shell realize hes not the one.Thanks for that suggestion, Shirley said frowning. But Im really pulling for them to get it together this time.I cant imagine any man not coming to a womans aid if he can, no matter how mad he is, Nikki said.Clara Bow rolled her eyes. Of course you would say that. We all know how sweet Raphael is. Hed come running if you pricked yourself with a safety pin.The four women laughed.But, really, Nikki said. This could be a turning point for them and he can realize how much he loves Rhetta despite their disagreement.Ill take that into consideration, Shirley said as she jotted on her notepad.If only we could write our way out of our romantic troubles, Hermoth sighed.I agree, Shirley said. My protagonist is leading a more exciting life than I am right now. At least something is about to happengood or bad, it doesnt mattersomething is about to happen.

We are all only one step away from losing the stories of our lives. I write to remember.
anonymous Chapter 7A story really isnt any good unless it successfully resists paraphrase, unless it hangs on and expands in the mind says Flannery OConnor, Nikki read from OConnors excerpt inOn Her Own Work: Insights Into A Good Man is Hard to Find.This is what she wrote as she discussed The Misfit, Nikki said to her husband as they sipped their morning cup of coffee. Listen to this: But then a prophet gone wrong is almost always more interesting than your grandmother, and you have to let people take their pleasures where they find them. What do think about that, Raphael?Very interesting and might I add, so true, Raphael said. So what youre telling me is that readers would rather read about a good person gone bad as opposed to a good person who is always good and does nothing but good?Exactly. But this good person gone bad has a chance to make a comeback, Nikki said as she took a bite of her French toast. Mmm, this is good.So what good person gone bad are you thinking of writing about? her husband asked.Still undecided, Nikki said tapping her pen against her notepad. Other peoples work keeps popping in my mind. I have to make sure I successfully resist paraphrase because thats a form of plagiarizing.What exactly is plagiarizing again? Raphael chuckled.Stealing other peoples work and claiming it as your own, Nikki said rubbing the back of her neck.No, you dont want to do that, Raphael said. He stood up, stretched, then gave his wife a kiss. Keep working at it; you can do it. By the way, what isA Good Man is Hard to Findabout? Am I a good man? he asked walking toward the door.Raphael! Nikki exclaimed with a smile. I just read that story to you last night. The one where the grandmother, her son and his wife, and their two children are taking a trip to Florida. On the way there, three escaped convicts confront and kill them. The grandmother engages in a rather eye opening conversation with the leader before he kills her. The conversation helps the convict get a better picture of who he is and why he acts the way he does. Not that that made a difference.Oh, thats the one I fell asleep on, Raphael said ducking as Nikki threw a crumpled up sheet of paper at him.Get out of here, she said laughing.Nikki remained at her desk for a few minutes reflecting on the previous nights prayer meeting and Bible study lesson.Thank You, Lord, for prayer and for Your Word.Later that morning, after dropping the twins off at school, she gave Hermoth a call.Hey, Hermoth, I know youre at work, but I was just thinking about you. How are things falling in place for your fathers arrival? Hes coming in tomorrow, right?Yes, and Im not happy about it. Its just like my sister to drop things on me at the last minute. Im still trying to find a two-bedroom apartment. I need to purchase at least a bed and a dresser for him, Hermoth said. I tell you, I dont need this added stress on me right now. Im in the middle of writing a bestseller. I tell you the truth.I have a hide-away sofa bed that you can have, Nikki said. In fact, I may have a few things you can use.Oh, I dont want to inconvenience you at all, Hermoth said. Ill just have to sleep on the sofa until I get him a bed.Its no problem at all. Besides, thats what friends are for, Nikki said. Why dont you come by on Saturday and see what I got.Dont you have to ask your husband first?Ill let him know; but he wont mind, Nikki said. Have you been able to put pen to paper since our meeting on Tuesday?This week has been so topsy-turvy I havent had time to do any serious writing, Hermoth said. I hate it when my routine gets interrupted. I waste so much time getting back in the writing flowyou know, gaining momentum and overcoming inertia.Thats probably where I am, Nikki said, trying to find a story line to help me overcome inertia.Sometimes if you just look at, listen to, and take note of people around you, you can get ideas. Other than that, the only other advice I can give you is to pray and ask God to give you what He would have you to write. I know that is how I get my ideas, Hermoth said. It will come to you.Well, Im going to let you go. And please stop by on Saturdayanytime, Nikki said.Ill be there. Let me know if you hear of any openings for a two-bedroom apartment, Hermoth said.

Chapter 8Clara Bow was up early and ready to tackle the day on Thursday. Her first stop was at the university for her Creative Writing class.Today, I just want to remind you of a few things, Professor Miller said. Your final project is a fiction work, anywhere from fifteen thousand to twenty thousand words on any topic of your choice. Keep in mind all that you have been taught about effective writing. Make sure it sings, holds your readers interest from beginning to end, and that it teaches your readers something about themselves or about life in general.For the rest of the class time, the students merged into their previously assigned groups to toss ideas around, to critique each others previous work, and to offer suggestions for their upcoming projects.What are you going to write on? Marla Aglaeca, a brown-haired student asked Clara Bow once they were seated.Im not quite sure, Clara Bow said. I want to write on something different; something Ill come away from having gained insight about how the human mind works and having a better understanding of myself.How are your articles and essay pieces coming along? I overheard you saying something to Professor Miller about contactingTimeMagazine a few weeks back.Yes. I sent them something, Clara Bow said. Im still waiting to hear from them.Maybe I can send them something also. I have about ten articles sitting on my desk at home. I cant decide where to send them.Sure, go ahead and send them in. You wont know how good they are until you get someone elses opinion, Clara Bow said.So, Clara Bow, what will you be writing on? Mark, another member of her group asked. And please do not say romance. You ladies kill me with all this romantic writing.Clara Bow laughed. Tell me about it, she said. Im seriously thinking of writing a mystery novel. I already have the storyline in mind.Thats interesting. Do you think youll have enough material for twenty thousand words? Mark asked. And if you dont mind my asking, whats it going to be about?Im sure I will. Clara Bow said. It will be based on a missing mother. I might delve a little into the psychological workings of the mind of a kidnapper as I tell the story.That should be interesting, Marla said. Is he going to be a serial kidnapper? Or, will this be his first time? Is he going to end up killing his victim, torturing the victim, maybe ask for ransom money in exchange for her release? Girl, you could go so many different ways with this one.Thanks for giving me these ideas, Marla. That should set me going good, Clara Bow said. Any other suggestions? she asked the members of her group.The class session ended on a good note. Clara Bow drove off the school campus, excited about her new project.Chapter 9Clara Bow beat everyone to the Java Bistro Cafe for their next Sister Soul Scribes meeting. She was excited as the others arrived one behind the other at exactly 10 AM and took their seats.Youre full of cheer this morning, Shirley said. Got some good news for us?A lot of great things have happened since we last met. One, I had my last class on Thursday, so, graduation, here I come! You are all coming, right?Of course, were coming. We wouldnt miss it for the world, Hermoth said.Two, Im excited about finishing my book manuscript which is the last requirement for my degree program. Clara Bow gave them a brief synopsis of the book.Well, good for you, Nikki said. I believe that it will be a success.Three, this is the biggest one of all. Hold on to your wigs, ladies Clara Bow pulled a letter out of her case.Speak, Clara Bow, Hermoth said.Roll the drums, Shirley giggled.I heard fromTimeMagazines acquisition editor. This letter came in with a check enclosed; they will be publishing one of the articles I sent in, Clara Bow exclaimed. It should be in the next issue.You go, girl! her friends cheered as they high-fived each other.This calls for an extra round of apple streusel, Shirley said raising a hand to summon Tamron, the waitress. This is on me.Yours is on the house, Tamron told Clara Bow after they shared with her the good news.Guess what? Nikki said as she took a bite of her apple streusel cake. I met Hermoths father and sister. Hes a character. Very jovial. Her sisters the same.Are they settling in well? Shirley asked.As a matter of fact, they have. My sisters only staying for two weeks before returning to the Bahamas. She wants to stay longer, but Ive had to remind her that she has a husband and two children to return to, Hermoth said. I think there was some selfishness on my part when I told her that.What do you mean? Clara Bow asked.My writers life has been disrupted, Hermoth said feigning sadness. I had plans to write my fingers off and to finish my manuscript this past weekend, but all I have to show for this past week is a blank sheet of paper. I doubt if Ill produce anything serious for the next two weeks. My number one writing room, my living room, has now been transformed into a bedroom. My number two writing room, which is my bedroom, Ive had to share with a sister who talks non-stop; she talks falling asleep, and she talks waking up. I didnt know it would be this hard to find a two-bedroom apartment. So all three of us are stuck in my tiny one-bedroom apartment. No privacy for two whole weeks. Help! I need my space.Her friends chuckled. Thats what makes life interesting: the unexpected bumps in the road of life, Shirley said. And might I add, these unexpected bumps are what make an interesting story.But all was not wasted, Hermoth said. I researched Alzheimers and found some interesting reads.Time to Let Go, by Christopher Fischer, andStuck in the Middle,by Virginia Smith are two engaging novels of how families handled their relative with Alzheimers. Thats not all. Hermoth took a couple sips of her coffee. She reached into her case and pulled out an article she had printed from theNew York Timesdated May 7, 2001, and began to read out loud.This article is titled Nuns Offer Clues to Alzheimers and Aging, by Pam Belluck. It basically saysDrop the word basically in writing and in speaking, Shirley kindly said. Either it is or it isnt.Why, thank you, Professor Shirley, Hermoth said with a chuckle. As I was saying, the article says, Alzheimers victims lose speech, mobility, and much of their memory. They tend to repeat certain actions. Its a degenerative disease that creeps up on you. But the study concluded that spirituality and community living help greatly.I dont know why they call it a disease, Nikki said. Youre just getting old and your body organs, namely your brain, does not work to its max.Laying the article on the table, Hermoth said with an air of defeat, Im afraid of what I may be up against. I stopped by the nursing home and spoke with the director and she gave me the full scoop. I feel like Im getting ready to slowly but surely kiss my writers life good bye.I dont think its going to be that bad, Shirley said. Lets get on with your manuscript and try to complete it. Where are you with Dr. Justin Middlebrooks?Fiction is art, and all art carries a message of some sort.
Randy Ingermanson and Peter EconomyChapter 19Hermoth glanced at her watch. She closed her laptop. Okay, everyone. Its time to stop by the police station. Well ride together, and Im driving, she said rising from her seat. Looking at Clara Bow she said with a grin, You thought I had forgotten, didnt you?Aw, shucks! I was hoping you would have forgotten, Clara Bow said laughing. Can we please stop by the Dawkins residence first? Id love to be the one to show Mr. Dawkins the picture and break the mystery.Well see, Hermoth said. But he may be at work.I think we should let the police handle everything, Shirley said.Tell you what, Hermoth said. Well swing by the Dawkins residence to calm Clara Bows anxious mind.More like appease her stubbornness, Nikki said with a laugh.Paul Dawkins answered the door when they rang the doorbell.Where did you get this? Thats my wifes car. That looks like herthe shoes at least, Paul said after they showed him the picture.As I shared with you when I interviewed you some time back, I work as a journalist and photographer for the Sun Times, Clara Bow said. I was randomly taking pictures and snapped that one. The gentleman in the picture changed my tire one day when it went flat on me on the highway. I was looking at the picture, and it clicked that this was the same person. Anyway, we know where he is.We are headed down to the police station if you want to come with us as we turn the picture over to them and tell them what we know, Shirley said.I dont know how to thank you ladies, Paul Dawkins said. I thought I would go crazy not knowing whether or not shes alive. I hope this picture will give me some answers. And thank you so much for the cookies. My children thoroughly enjoyed them.Youre more than welcome, the friends said.I hope your mind is at rest now, Hermoth said to Clara Bow as she drove them to their parked cars in the Java Bistro Cafe parking lot after stopping by the police station. Now promise us youll leave Mylo Easton alone.I will, Clara Bow said.And dont you hesitate to call us and the police if he begins to stalk you before they arrest him, her friends said to her.Once she got home from work later that evening, Clara Bow worked on her book until early the next morning.She stopped by the administration office to finalize things for her graduation when she ran into Marla Aglaeca.Are you ready for graduation? Marla asked.I sure am, Clara Bow said. I just turned in my manuscript. Have you completed yours yet?You know me. I turn in my work at the last minute, Marla said.Im having a little get-together at my place on Friday. Id love for you to come. Ill be calling our other classmates to invite them along also. It will be at 6:30.Id love to come, Marla said. What are your plans after graduation?Im not sure. Of course, Ill still keep my job at the Sun Times. Im thinking of going for my Masters in Journalism. As you know, I like photography, so I may pursue that as well, Clara Bow said.Apart from the class manuscript, have you been working on anything else? Marla asked.Nothing but various articles. I have another book in mind, but Im still thinking on that.How do you manage to work on two books at a time, plus submit so many articles to the various places? I can only handle one thing at a time, and thats overwhelming enough, Marla said.Maybe you can join my writers group. Its only four of us so far. We get together every Tuesday morning at ten for about four hours. We offer suggestions as we read and critique each others work. Youre welcome to join us, Clara Bow said.Ill think about it because I need a lot of help. Ill call you if I decide to join yall, Marla said. Wish me luck.I wish you lots of luck in your career as a writer, Clara Bow said.Clara Bow and the ten members of her creative writing class met at her apartment to celebrate their successful completion of the course.While the party was in full swing, Clara Bow and one of her classmates, Ariel, went to the kitchen to replenish the bowl of chips and the tray of ham and cheese sandwiches. Marla noticed a stack of papers lying on the couch. She picked it up. A cover letter written to a publisher was stapled to the front page. Marla scanned through the pages.She has something going on here,Marla thought as she glanced around the room to see where Clara Bow was.I cant believe you took work with you, Ennis, another one of their classmates said sitting down beside Marla.Hey, Ennis, Marla said as she quickly flipped the manuscript over. Just something I wanted Clara Bow to glance over for me. She slipped the manuscript into her purse. So, how have things been going?Later that evening, after the party was over, and everyone had left, Clara Bow sat down to look over her manuscript.I know I left it right here on the couch, she said to herself as she searched around for it. That copy had the suggested changes from our meeting on Tuesday. I have not even placed them in the final manuscript yet. Whatever could have happened to it?Chapter 20Sunday morning found the friends worshipping at the Coming Messiah Church with Hermoth for her churchs 30thanniversary. They were encouraged.I have news for you, Nikki said to Hermoth after the services. One of Raphaels employees, Carlos, will be getting married. He is living in a 2-bedroom house that he built. In fact, he has several houses which he owns, most of which he built himself; working as a chauffeur is just a thing he does on the side for fun. Anyway, hell be moving into another of his houses after he gets married within the next month, so his house will be up for sale or rent. Hes willing to negotiate if youre interested. Raphael can fill you in on the details.Raphael got Carlos on the phone to set up a time for Hermoth to stop by to see the house the following day.God is good, Hermoth said to her friends as they sat down in their booth at the Java Bistro Cafe. I cant believe Ive been paying $900 per month for a 1-bedroom apartment, and here I am getting ready to move into a 2-bedroom house for $675.00 per month. God is not just good. He is great!Praise the Lord! her friends said.Now, Ill be able to focus on my writing undisturbed, Hermoth said. Im also thinking about sharing with my pastor the idea of writing a book on the history of the Coming Messiah Church and its mission and work in the community. It has a very interesting history.I can tell, Shirley said. I enjoyed the anniversary services tremendously. Doug was even talking about visiting again.You all are welcome anytime, Hermoth said. We have a black pastor, and we are mostly a black congregation, but as you could tell we have a good mixture of races.Thats what I love to see, Nikki said. We all claim to love the same God, so why cant we fellowship and worship together every now and then without any drama? But thats a topic for another time.And possibly another book in the making, Hermoth said. Why dont you pursue that one?Mmm. Thats worth thinking about, Nikki said.I want to thank you all for your feedback on myMissing Momsbook. I somehow misplaced the hard copy. I was getting ready to finish putting in the final suggestions you all gave me, now I cant even find it. Its the one that I had scribbled your suggestions on off to the side. If you can remember them, Ill need your help. Anyway, Ill be submitting it to several publishers, Clara Bow said, and probably some family magazines for possible serial publication.Whats serial publication? Nikki asked.Its a form of publishing that is seeing a revival today. Charles Dickens and others used to write in this manner years ago, Clara Bow said. Its when you have a book thats not fully completed, or it could be fully completed, but you want to get it out before the public, and you have it printed several chapters at a timeweekly, bi-weekly, or monthlyin a magazine or newspaper, or some other publication.Thats interesting, Nikki said.I heard something about that, but I havent had the time to read up on it yet, Shirley said.It has its advantages, Clara Bow said. One, its a great way to advertise your full book. Two, readers can provide feedback on each episode as it is being printed so you can edit and rewrite as you go along. Three, you dont have to rush to write the whole book all at once. Four, it teaches you discipline as you have to meet publication deadlines.Maybe thats the route I need to go withKanitra, Nikki said.Speaking ofKanitra, do you have anything written that you want to share with us? Shirley asked.Nikki meekly opened up her writing pad and began reading.Kanitra woke up at 7:30 A.M. in the morning. She opened her eyes. She looked around her room. She stretched then climbed out of bed. She yawned a couple times, no three times. She then put her robe on and went to the bathroom where she flossed and brushed her teeth, washed her face, brushed her hair. She stepped into the tub for a shower. She then took her big and fluffy red towel and dried herself. When she went back in her room, she put her native Indian dress on real slow as she did not want to wear those things any more. To her they were ugly, cheap, and outdated. I hate these clothes, she said.Hows that so far? Nikki asked.Well help you fix it up, Shirley said.Its that bad, huh? Nikki said.We have something to work with, Hermoth said. Lets see. She took the writing pad and silently read two more pages, then passed it to Shirley and Clara Bow.One, dont begin your story with the mundane everyday things; if you do, dont detail it and tell every little action. You have to grab your readers attention from the get-go, Hermoth said.And the readers dont care how many times Kanitra yawns, Shirley said. And everyone, generally speaking, performs similar morning rituals when they wake up. You dont need to detail that. Its called insulting the readers intelligence. If you do that, theyll toss the book aside never to pick it up again. And theyll remember your name and never purchase another book that you write.Create a more solid setting; something the readers can picture in their minds, Clara Bow said.Lets begin by cutting the excess, Hermoth said. How about:Sixteen-year-old Kanitra woke up at exactly 7:30.She looked around her near empty bedroom. Except for her bed and a dresser with the left knob missing from the top drawer, the only other things were statues of the Hindu gods. Kanitra was a native of India. After showering, she pulled one of her native dresses out of the closet. I hate these ugly things, she said, and these stupid shoes.Thats about half the words you originally used. Make it short and spicy,Thanks, Nikki said. Ill work on it some more.Before we go any further, lets pull upElements of Styleby William Strunk and E.B. White on our laptops and refresh our memories, Shirley said.Thats a good idea, her friends said.After two solid hours of work, and before calling it a day, Hermoth said to Clara Bow as they gathered their things, I know this may set your mailing date behind, but before you submit your manuscript for publishing, I think you should wait until your professor has looked it over. Im sure hell provide some valuable suggestions that you could incorporate to make it an even better read.I never thought about that. Thanks for the advice, Hermoth. I certainly will, Clara Bow said. Ill run it by you all again once I receive the manuscript back from him.Chapter 21After a full days work on the job, Hermoth returned home to find a weird arrangement on her dinner table. All twelve of her drinking glasses were arranged in a neat row in the center of the table. There was a single panel of paper towels neatly folded in the shape of a triangle sticking out of each glass. In front of them, also arranged in a neat row, were all twenty of her coffee cups. Taking a second look, Hermoth noticed half the coffee cup handles were turned to the left and the other half were turned to the right.Weird,Hermoth thought.Papa, Im home! she called out.Receiving no answer, she immediately went to her fathers bedroom. He was sitting against the headboard with both knees up under his chin. He looked up at Hermoth with a satisfied smile on his face.Oh, no! Hermoth said as she looked around. Her three hundred page manuscript of Dr. Justin Middlebrooks was neatly spread out across the floor and on his bed. Greatly restraining herself from yelling at her father, she calmly responded, You did a great job, Papa. I can tell youve had a busy day. Stay right where you are. Ill pick everything up.I just hope everything is in order. Im glad I numbered the pages. Wow! What other surprises are in store for me?Hermoth conversed with her father as she quickly picked up the sheets of papers. No! No. Please dont touch that, she said as her father started to pick up the manuscript pages that were laying on the bed. Ill get it. Just dont touch it.Hermoth did not let his disappointed look sway her. She escorted him into the kitchen once she got done and sat him down at the kitchen table where she could keep an eye on him as she prepared the evening meal. Let me put these glasses and coffee cups away. I wish I had a camera so we could take a picture of your wonderful artwork. I wish we could keep them there, but we need the table for other things. She turned the television up so she could catch snatches of the news while she prepared the meal.Papa, you hardly touched your lunch, Hermoth said as she noticed his lunch still sitting on the counter next to the microwave where she had left it earlier. She pretended not to notice him taking the napkins out of the napkin holder and laying them in neat rows covering the entire tabletop. He then looked at her with a satisfied smile as if awaiting her approval.Thats very neat. You did a great job, Hermoth said. She made a mental note to give her sister a call later that night.Hows Papa doing? her sister, Pamela, asked when she got on the phone.Hermoth related to her sister their fathers strange behaviors.Oh, I forgot to tell you, hes obsessed with paper products, Pamela said. Dont be surprised if you come home one evening and your rooms have been redecorated with toilet paper and paper towels.I guess I better get to hiding them then, Hermoth said dryly.Another thing, her sister said, he loves to look at sports magazines. Hell sit all day and look through the same magazine over and over. So stack up on those.Another thing, Hermoth said, sometimes he wont eat. Hell sit and rearrange the food on the plate without spilling any of it. Im worried. If it gets worse hell waste away.I wouldnt worry about that yet, Pamela said. When he gets hungry enough, hell eat. Hows Dr. Justin Middlebrooks coming along? Is he alive or dead?Oh, he died of a heart attack while he was in jail. Vashti is now a millionaire, but she cannot enjoy all that money because she is faced with making the decision as to whether or not to help Pierre out by giving some of it to the inmate Pierre hired to kill Dr. Middlebrooks.I thought Middlebrooks died of heart complications, Pamela said.He did. The inmate who was supposed to kill him with the promise of being set free found him dead the night he went to kill him. He lied and told Pierre that he killed Middlebrooks. Pierre was unable to talk the judge into setting the inmate free. Now the inmate has Pierre on the run for his life as one of his cronies on the outside is stalking Pierre and sending him threatening mail. They want the inmate set free as well as $250,000 cash. Pierre is now hounding Vashti for the money.Did Pierre and Vashti get married?Vashti has it on hold after finding out Pierres conniving scheme to kill Middlebrooks; she feels caught in the middle, Hermoth said.I cant wait to get my copy, Pamela said. And, Hermoth, I know I give you a hard time, but youre a great big sister. Take care of Papa. I hope to see you soon.Bye, Pamela. I love you, Hermoth said.

Show me a character without anxieties, and I will show you a boring book.Margaret AtwoodChapter 10Shirley Kidd adjusted the pillows behind her back as she held the ten pages of writing she had just completed at arms length before her.I deservea late night bowl of ice cream for this,she thought as she glanced at the clock.Doug should be home any minute now. Ill just wait until he comes in.She read over her work inserting and crossing things out, making notations here and there.Hearing the familiar sound of her husbands car engine running in the driveway, she started putting away her manuscript. She heard the soft rattling of the garage door as it opened up for him to park his car. She heard its closing. She heard the car door slam shut, followed by the jingling of keys as he unlocked the door leading from the garage into the hallway.Shirley smiled as she listened to her husband making his nightly rounds around the house which ended in their bedroom. He rattled the door knobs to the front door and the back door before making sure the alarm was turned on. He checked in on the children. He then pushed their bedroom door open.Hi, Doug. How was your night? Shirley greeted her husband.The usual, Doug said removing his gun from its holster and placing it under lock and key in the safety box he kept on the shelf in their closet.The usual. Thats all its been for the past couple of months,Shirley thought. Anything interesting happen?No. Doug proceeded to undress, grabbed his robe, and headed for the bathroom.Tossing the covers aside, Shirley said, Do you want me to fix you something to eat? The children and I had chicken and dumplings with vegetables. Shirley swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slipped her feet into her slippers.Warm milk and honey will do, Doug replied. Let me take a quick shower first.Shirley knew a quick shower meant hed be up for a few more hours; it also meant more than the usual had taken place.Shirley met her husband on the way back to the bedroom with two tall glasses of warm milk.Ill take it in the den, he said. I need to unwind for a few minutes before going to sleep. You should go on to bed and get some rest.Im pretty pumped myself. I finished ten pages on my story. Want me to read it to you?Not right now. Just let me relax some, Doug said.Shirley joined her husband on the couch as he turned the television to the news channel.Doug, Shirley said as the first commercial break came on, is everything alright? Youve been kind of withdrawn these past few weeks. Youve been kind of cold.Doug shook his head.Come on. Talk to me, Shirley said.Doug sighed deeply as he gulped down the last of his milk. I didnt say anything because I did not want you to be afraid. But Chief Bartlett received a letter about a month ago. The sender threatened to come after the families of the policemen who answered the call during that tragic shooting last Christmas. I dont know if you remember it. Were assuming its the husbandthe only survivor.Yes. I remember that, Shirley said after thinking for a while. Thats the one where the husband returned from jogging on Christmas Day to find his wife and two daughters dead and some of the gifts packed in a big sack. The killer was rummaging upstairs and heard the husband call 9-1-1. The husband heard the movements upstairs and proceeded to check things out. It seemed the killer was on purpose making noise to draw the husband upstairs. The killer then made a run for it, tackling the husband and knocking him out. He escaped before the police arrived. Right?Doug nodded. Thats the one. Its been five months, and we still have not found the person responsible, Doug said.Shirley slid closer to her husband and placed his arm around her shoulder. What exactly did the letter say, and how would he know which police officers were there?The letter said we did not do our job; we should have gotten to the house sooner; we should have caught the killer by now; we were a sorry excuse for a police force, et cetera, et cetera. Doug leaned his head on the back of the couch. He named my name, my partners name, and two other officers names. He must have gotten our names off our badges. The sender said he would contact the media when he makes his move. Chief Bartlett told us to keep quiet about it.Shirley shuddered as the thought of losing her entire family in such a tragic way crossed her mind. I still cant imagine who would do such a senseless act.Doug tightened his arm around her. Im thinking of sending you and the children to my parents or your parents or some other relative until it blows over.No, Doug. Were staying with you, Shirley said.

Chapter 11Clara Bow stopped at the public library to do some work on her final college project.I think Ill call it Missing Moms.Still curious as to the disappearance of Mayzie Dawkins, she decided to pay the family a visit. After securing the address, she stopped by the Dawkins residence introducing herself as a reporter from theSun Times.Im doing a follow-up report on your wife, Clara Bow said. Have you heard anything new about her disappearance?The police have not been able to give us any new information, Paul Dawkins, Mayzies husband, said.From the information she gathered from him, Clara Bow produced a headline article for theSun Timestitled: How Does a Family Continue After a Loved Ones Disappearance?The article you wrote on Mayzie Dawkins touched my heart, Shirley said after she and her three writing friends had taken their seats for another Sister Soul Scribes meeting at the Java Bistro Cafe. Shirley thought of the disturbing news her husband had shared with her. I cant even imagine being in her husbands position. What if Doug just disappears? Not knowing whether he is dead or alive would eat away at me. Worse yet, what if one of my children were to disappear?I know that feeling, Nikki said. It brought tears to my eyes when I read the section where you interviewed the four children. Theyre so young. They wake up everyday wondering: Is this the day Mommys coming home? No Mommy to nurse their wounds; no Mommy to fix them a homemade smoothie; no Mommy to bake them cookies.Why dont we bake some cookies and take it to them this Saturday, Hermoth suggested.Im with you, Clara Bow said.Me, too, the others said.Were so proud of you, Clara Bow, Hermoth said. Gods going to bless you for trying to help this family.Well, thank you. I couldnt do what I do without your words of encouragement, Clara Bow said. Anyway, enough of that; Im about ready to shed some tears.The ladies quietly sipped on their coffee and orange juice and ate some danishes, each occupied with her own thoughts.You know what? Hermoth said after a few minutes , As I think about it, this whole Mayzie Dawkins thing could be turned into a mystery novel. You could approach it in one of two ways. You could begin with the incident at the ATM machine to whet the readers appetite. Introduce her as a loving wife and a caring, doting mother of four. That will touch the readers hearts. Go ahead and have a man who changes her tires to be the culprit; just dont tell that yet. The police could mention that this was the third woman who had gone missing in two months; the first two were last seen at an ATM machine and they suspect the perpetrator in each may be the same. Weave the truth of Mayzies story into your fiction story.Rather than have the victims be killed, perhaps he can just keep them hostage somewhere, Shirley said. You figure that out, because I cannot for the life of me understand a criminals mind.I know. Sin, Nikki said.Thats the truth, Hermoth said, but people probably dont want to read that. You might want to look at a couple of books on the criminal mind.Thanks a lot, Clara Bow said.You can approach it from Mayzie Dawkins point-of-view, from the kidnappers point-of-view, or from the chief of polices point-of-view, Hermoth suggested.Thanks for your input, Clara Bow said. But where are you all at on your stories?My main character, Rhetta, is still trapped in her office building. Shes afraid to walk out because she thinks someones in the building, Shirley said. The police have not arrived yet, and neither has she heard from her fiancethat two-timer.Two-timer? Hermoth said.Yes. Hes a cheat, Shirley said. But he does not know that the girl he is cheating with is only using him to get back at her ex.That sounds like its going to be one big mess to me, Hermoth said taking a bite from her pastry. Please relieve our suspense. Read on.

Chapter 12Rhetta held her breath as the softly echoing footsteps drew closer and closer. They came to an abrupt stop in front of her office door. Her heart almost stopped as she saw the doorknob slowly turn back and forth. She glanced at her cell phone.Ring. Please ring. Stanley, please call,she thought.Rhetta, a raspy voice whispered her name. Rhetta.Rhettas eyes flew wide open. She shifted her stare from the doorknob to the crack underneath the door. There was a faint shadow coming from underneatha pair of shoes partially blocking the light.Rhetta. Rhetta Droxley, the raspy voice said softly. I know that you are in there. Open up so we can talk.How? Who? What?Rhetta thought nervously backing away from her desk. She quickly glanced out the window at the security guards station. No movement and no light.Rhetta, the haunting voice said again. Come on. Lets talk.Silence.The next sound Rhetta heard were footsteps softly fading but light was no longer streaming under the door. With shaky hands, she dialed the security guards station. Thank God, she said out loud as someone picked up.Someones in the building. Im trapped in my office.Rhettas mouth gaped open but no sound came out as the raspy voice answered her. I know youre in the building, Rhetta. I was just in there but you would not open up so we could talk. Now youre wondering who I am. I had a little gift for you.Rhetta heard tappingrhythmic, calculated tapping. She forced herself to look out the window. The light in the guards station blinked on and off for a few seconds.Your form looks lovely through the window.Rhetta snapped the drapes shut.Ive been watching you for some time nowLights. The lights,Rhetta thought frantically as she turned the lights off in her office.I can still see you.Rhetta stared at the phone. It was as if it was glued to her handsas if she was being forced to listen to the voice.Youve been working here for about seven years now, and youre moving on up the corporate ladder. Congratulations.No more, Shirley said putting her manuscript down.Aw, shucks! Nikki said. I was just getting into it. Keep reading. Whos this mysterious person?I dont know, yet, Shirley confessed slumping her shoulders. I broke into the story to give the readers a background history of her fiance, Stanleywhere he was, what he was up to, where he was born, how they met, how he received her message but chose to ignore it.How many pages did that take? Hermoth askedMmm, about two pages, Shirley said.Two pages! Hermoth exclaimed. Shirley, you just killed the story. You just lost your readers. Dont cut the suspense you have going on at the office to give mundane stuff about Stanley. As of right now, the readers want to know what is going to happen to Rhetta. Who cares a flip about Stanley at this time! We want to know who this raspy-voiced person is, and whether or not he succeeds in whatever hes going to do to Rhetta. Cut the backstory, Hermoth said drawing her fingers across her throat.Any suggestions? Shirley asked.It could be her own boyfriend stalking her, Clara Bow suggested.Picture this, Hermoth said holding both of her hands in mid-air. See whats his name? Yeah, Stanley. Stanley thinks shes seeing someone else because shes had to put in too many late nights, in his opinion. Hes seen her walk out the building a few times with a co-worker. Of course, nothings happening between them; theyre only discussing office work, but Stanley does not know that, and rather than ask, he just assumes things.Or, Nikki interjected, it could be one of her male workers whos been trying to get her attention, but hes upset because she keeps snubbing him. See, Rhettas a one-man woman. Shes had good upbringing; she visits the church house pretty regularly Or, Clara Bow interrupted, it could be the stalker whos running loose in the areayou knowthe one whos been breaking into the offices; youve already mentioned that. Anyway, hes seen her coming and leaving the office by herself; somehow he got a hold of personal information on her; now he has her on his radar.Three people to choose from, Shirley sighed.Whichever one you choose, remember what Alfred Hitchcock said: drama is life with the dull stuff left out. Cut the two pages on Stanley, Hermoth said with a grin.The friends laughed as they wrapped up their meeting.

If you dont turn your life into a story, you just become a part of someone elses story.
Terry PratchettChapter 13Clara Bow made herself comfortable in the middle of her bed. She lifted the cover of her laptop and started to type. She titled her page, Missing Moms. She then copied the article she submitted to the Sun Times from the interview she conducted with Paul Dawkins into that file. She typed in all the ideas her writing friends had suggested as she did more brainstorming.I must remember to modify this to flow right into my storyline,she reminded herself as she flagged that page.I will show the picture to Mr. Dawkins, but not right now because hes going to insist that I take it to the police. He may even begin to label me as the suspect.Clara Bow scanned in the picture and placed it in the Missing Moms file. Now, Ill do a search on Mylo Easton.Clara Bow paused as she thought about the mystery before her.Hmm, Im surprised the security camera at the ATM machine did not pick this up unlessClara Bow typed her thoughts and speculations into her manuscript file.This accounts for 4 explanations:He may have somehow figured out where the security camera is and blocked it. If thats the case, hes probably an experienced crook or he has worked at a bank and is familiar with its security cameras.

Someone at the banks security office or whoever was monitoring the cameras that evening was not doing his job; he failed to report what he sawif he saw anything.

There was a malfunction in the camera.

He is in cahoots with someone in security.

I could choose any of these and run with it. More than likely number one. Number two could work; this would come up during the court case as the lawyer would ask for security tapes for the date she went missing.Number three could work, but I cant use that; Ill need the cameras working as evidence in court.Number four is lame. If hes in cahoots with someone in security, just have that other person to steal the money unless money may not have been the main motive for the kidnapping. Ill have to think on this some more.Time for a snack, Clara Bow said to herself.She went down to the kitchen and got sliced bananas, chocolate spread and a glass of fruit punch which she took back to her bedroom where she resumed her work.I have to establish a reason for Mylo Easton kidnapping Mayzie Dawkins, Clara Bow said to herself. She picked up her cell phone and pressed a button. Hey, Nikki, Clara Bow here. Just one question: Off the top of your head, what would lead a man to kidnap a woman, run off with her car, and take what little money she had on her?Hes probably in need of cash and a car and saw her as easy prey, Nikki said.He may get a thrill out of taking advantage of women. You knowa psychopath, Shirley answered when Clara Bow asked her the same question.Oh, hes just a maniac. His elevator doesnt go all the way to the top, Hermoth said. Are you working on your mystery novel?Undercover, Clara Bow said.Ooh! I cant wait to read it, Hermoth said.Thanks a lot, Clara Bow said.The picture,Clara Bow typed in,thats incriminating evidence to unlocking this mystery of the missing mom. We can either get it secretly to the police with a letter of explanation. Or, we can have it mysteriously delivered to Paul Dawkins. Now should this be revealed in the middle or towards the end of the novel?Writing is definitely not for the lazy person, Clara Bow said repeating her professors words as she closed out her file. You have to actively engage your mind. She drank some of her fruit punch.One more thing before I end this project for the night.Clara Bow did a search on the name Mylo Easton.Just as I thought. Only one listing.She picked up her cellphone.Hello, Mylo Easton.

Chapter 14

Nikki and her daughters returned home from church on Wednesday night to find Raphael in the kitchen putting the finishing touch on one of his favorite snacks: pan dulce.Thank you, Daddy, Nikita and Makita both said as they took their seats around the dinner table.Thank you, dear, Nikki said as she took her seat across the table from her husband.What took you all so long? The pastor must have been praying up a storm, Raphael said as he placed the snack on each plate. Did you ask him to pray for me?Nikki smiled as she bit into her snack.No, Daddy. Philip stopped Mommy and was talking to her, Nikita said looking at her sister. They both giggled.Whats so funny about Philip talking to Mom after church? Raphael asked glancing at his wife.Oh, nothing. He just tries to pluck our dimples off our cheeks, Makita said giggling some more.Is that so? Raphael said. He glanced at his wife again. This Philip must be an interesting person. What does he look like?He speaks like you and he kind of looks like you, Nikita said. Except hes not as tall as you.Is that so? Raphael said again. And how long has Philip been talking with Mommy?Its not every time, Makita said. He never used to talk with her until a little while back.O.K. You girls finish off your snack so you can go to bed, Raphael said. Early to bed, early to rise.After you both finish off your homework, their mother reminded.Yeah. I almost forgot. Ms. DeSilva wants us to write a poem or copy one for tomorrow, Makita said as she swallowed her last bit of food. I hate poems. Daddy can you help us find two? Ms. DeSilva says we cannot bring the same one.Sure. How about this one by Ogden Nash:Timothy Winters comes to school / With eyes as wide as a football pool / Ears like bombs and teeth like splinters / A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.Raphael stood up and moved his hands rhythmically. Come on. Follow me.Ill take that one, Nikita said joining her father.How about this one entitledThe Wind,Raphael said. The wind stood up, and gave a shout, Raphael shouted.He whistled on his fingers, and kicked the withered leaves about, Raphael said with a kick.And thumped the branches with his hand,Raphael said punching his right palm with his left fist.And said, hed kill, and kill, and kill; And so he will! And so he will!Raphael looked at his wife with a determined expression as he said the last line. Nikki stared back at him with raised eyebrows trying to smother her laugh.Who wrote that one, Daddy? Makita asked as she held a pen and notepad.None other than James Stephens, her father said with a bow. Come on. Ill pull both poems up on the computer while you get ready for bed, then you can copy them off. Mommy and I will be in to say good night.Daddy, where did you learn such funny poems? Nikita asked as she skipped out the room with their father.In school. Once you learn them, you never forget themespecially the funny ones.When Raphael returned to the kitchen, Nikki had the dishes all cleaned and was sitting at the table looking over the notes she had jotted down from the Bible study.Maybe I can choose a character from the Bible who encounters one trouble after another and finds his outlet through prayer,she thought as she tossed up story ideas in her head.Care to explain who this Philip is? Raphael said after getting a glass of water.He attends the church. I never knew he existed until a few weeks back. And, yes, weve been talking after church, Nikki said.And? Raphael said taking a seat at the table.Look, Raphael, I know what you are thinking, but its nothing like that. I am not the least bit interested in Philip. I just see him as another one of the church members.But youre getting comfortable talking with him, Raphael said. And youve never mentioned him to me before.Thats because there is nothing going on between us, Nikki said. And if your next question is, what have we talked about, Ill answer before you even ask. We talk about Bible things. And hes somehow found out that I write for the Intercollegiate Magazine, so hes been asking about that.Is that all?And he asks about you as well, Nikki added. He probably feels a kindred spirit, a cultural bond. He, myself, and another family are the only ones of Hispanic descent attending the church. As you already know its a good size church; you could easily feel alienated in there.Hes a man; he should know how to handle his feelings of alienation, Raphael said. He then chuckled, Hes not a softy, is he?Nikki laughed. You be the judge of that. But on a serious note though, Ive been asking you to just come to the church with me and the girls; its only two times each week. Id be satisfied if you just came on Sundays. I believe you already know I have no desire for any relationship with another man, but your presence would ward off any interest any man may have in me and that would eliminate any possible problems from turning up. When I turn up by myself, they may see me as a single mother or a woman whos not getting along with her husband.Raphael thought on his wifes words.Im sure the twins would love to have you come along as well, Nikki added.So you want me to come rescue my damsels in distress.You could say that, Nikki replied. So, are you coming with us on Sunday?Ill think about it, he said pulling her up from her seat. Lets go say goodnight to the girls and go to bed ourselves.Chapter 15

We have a new dessert, Tamron greeted her writing friends as she poured coffee into their cups. Its called fruit gizzada. You can have it sweetened or unsweetened. Want to try it?Whats in it? Shirley asked.Its like a personal pie filled with fruit, and nuts and topped with coconut flakes.Hey, that sounds familiar. It sounds like something my mother used to make when I was a little girl, Hermoth said. The only difference is, our filling is brown sugar and coconut flakes. Oh, man, I miss it. Bring me two of themsweetened.Well take one, too, her friends said.Coming right up, Tamron said as she refilled the bowl on the table with packets of sugar, Splenda, vanilla and caramel creamers, and coffee stirrers.Hey, everyone, I got some good news, Nikki said as they pulled out their notepads and flipped their laptops open. Raphael came to church with us.Really? Thank God, Hermoth said. It seems like God has finally answered our prayers.Nikki related to them what led to Raphael coming to church with her and her daughters. God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform, Shirley said.The first thing he asked was to meet Philip, who was man enough to still come say hello, Nikki said.Hermoth laughed. Im so happy for you. Talking about church, my church is celebrating its thirtieth anniversary next Sunday. I invite you all to be my special guests along with your entire family.Well be there, her friends assured her.Will we get to meet your sister before she returns to the Bahamas? Clara Bow asked.Shell be gone before then, but youll meet my father. Why dont you all stop by on Saturday after we stop by the Dawkins place and meet her and my father. Hermoth said. I cant wait to get Talkaton on that plane and get back on schedule with my writing. By the looks on your faces I can tell youre wondering who Talkaton is. Thats the pet name I gave my sister. Boy, can she talk up a storm, Hermoth said with a laugh. Anyway, talking about writing, wed better get some work done. Have you written anything yet, Nikki?Nope. Im still struggling.You could use the change in Raphael and build a story around it. It could be a family novel dealing with issues that husbands and wives go through, Shirley suggested. In this case, marital problems; some other man showing her more attention. Take it to the extreme. Make it a romance novel.I love reading romance novels, but I just cant bring myself to write about it, Nikki said. She slumped her shoulders.Youd be amazed at what you can come up with if you dig deeply into the recesses of your mind, Clara Bow said. You could take one of your non-fiction articles on how immigrants adjust to living in a foreign country and dialogue it out.Think about how you and your husband felt emotionally and socially, Shirley said. Im sure you did not always feel comfortable. Ask Hermoth; Shes from the Bahamas. Im sure she felt some strangeness when she first moved to America.Yes, girl, I could tell you some stories. Come on, pick up your pen and begin writing, Hermoth said. After sharing some incidents with them, Hermoth added, To make it more dramatic, you could use someone from, say, China or India; her parents are very strict in their cultural beliefs and they insist on her wearing their countrys native dress and sticking to their religion; peer pressure gets to be too much for her. Some of her new friends try to Americanize her. You can even add a Christian element to it where she becomes a Christian and she hides it from her parents. Do you see where Im going with this?Yes. Absolutely, Nikki replied. Her parents find out and all hell breaks loose, Nikki said writing as fast as she could. Shes normally a good child but she begins to rebel against her parents false religion.I believe you got it, Hermoth said. Run with that now, and have something for us next week. If you need any help, were only a phone call away.That looks delicious, Clara Bow said as Tamron placed their order before them.Heres some cinnamon to sprinkle on top, Tamron said as the friends bit into their new dessert.Mmm. Mmm. This brings back good memories, Hermoth said.This is absolutely delicious, the others agreed. Thank you, Tamron.Youre quite welcome. How are your new books coming along? Tamron asked.Just great. Do I have your permission to mention you in my next book? Clara Bow asked.Tamron laughed. Id be honored. Let me know if you need anything.

When I read a good book I wish that life were three thousand years long.
Ralph Waldo EmersonChapter 16

I know youre working on a secret project, so whats new? Shirley asked Clara Bow when they next met up at the Cafe.My college project is coming along quite nicely. Im just about done with jotting down notes and creating a outline.Youre referring to theMissing Momsmanuscript, right? Shirley asked.Clara Bow nodded. Ive decided to focus on that book and make that my book to submit for publishing.I think its great that youre taking something as tragic as that and making it into a work of fiction to help those who may read it, Nikki said. What do you hope to accomplish by writing about missing moms?Well, Clara Bow said after thinking for some time, I want to bring awareness to the families of mothers and wives who have gone missing. And also that life keeps going on even though a family member may no longer be present. Im sure other things will come to my mind as I work on completing the book.You know you have a lot of people saying, I want to write a book, but they never actually start writing anything. I dont know how many wanna-be writers have taken a great book idea with them to their graves because they were too lazy to go through the painful task of writing, Shirley said. I tell you, writing is definitely not for the lazy person.You said that right, Hermoth said.Oops! Nikki said. I had better get off my do-nothing and get to writing then. Im afraid my main character, Kanitra, is in sinking waters. I have not written much. In all the books Ive attempted to write, I just dont feel my main characters yet.Just keep plodding away, Hermoth said. Sometimes you just have to begin writing: first one word, then two words, then three words. Before you know it you have one sentence, then two sentences, then a whole paragraph, then a full page. Just get the flow going and keep it going, girl!Do you know what I havent been able to figure out? Clara Bow asked. What would lead one writer to take another writers work and present it as her own.Someone with deep psychological issues, Hermoth said.Someone who lacks confidence in herself, Nikki said.Someone whos seeking friends and the approval of others, Shirley said.Someone who wants the easy way out, Clara Bow said.As far as my book goes, Clara Bow continued, Ill be sending you copies to proof once I get it done. I want to keep the details of it quiet until I am done with it.Must be something exciting, Nikki said. I cant wait to read it. Your turn, Shirley. Is Rhetta still in the building?I hope you cut the two pages on Stanley, Hermoth quickly said.Shirley pulled her manuscript out and started reading:Rhettas hand seemed glued to her phone. With the lights off, she inched her way across the room back to the window when she heard voices coming from her phone which was still on. Slightly opening the drapes she peeked out to see the flashing lights of a police car.Whew! Thank God theyre here, she said.Rhetta strained to hear the exchange between the police officers and who she assumed was the security guard. She almost dropped her phone when she heard the security guard say, Yes, Officer. She called me here, but I had stepped away to do my rounds. Shes safely home now. We got her out.Whose car is parked over there? the officer asked nodding his head in the direction of Rhettas parked car.Oh, sometimes the employees carpool and leave their vehicles parked here overnight. They notify us of that.Liar! Rhetta shouted into the phone.Click!Im still in the building! Hes lying. Please double check. She banged on the thick window pane. Her panic increased as she saw the police officer enter his car and drive away. She leaned against the wall still peering out the window. Her cellphone rang. Thinking it was her fiance, she answered. Hello, Stanley. Thank GodYou shouldnt have done that, the raspy voice said.Wait a minute, Hermoth said. I dont think youve told us who the raspy voice belongs to yet; but if hes the one whos been attacking people in the area, wouldnt the police recognize him? Dont they have a mug shot out on him?They dont know who he is yet, Shirley said.Okay. Im glad you kept her in the building a bit longer, Hermoth said. Keep the suspense going, but dont let her overstay. Glancing at her watch she said, Sorry to end this fun time, but Im going to be really late for work. Plus, I have to check on my father to make sure hes still in one piece. When I woke up this morning, he was just sitting in the dark staring at the wall. I got scared. He seemed his normal self when I left, but I cant take any chances.Dont forget we meet here on Saturday, say around one, to visit the Dawkins family, Clara Bow said. Ill give you a call on Friday to remind you.The writers gathered their laptops and other writing instruments.One thing before we disband, Shirley said. I didnt want to bother you with this because I did not want you to worry yourselves, but I really need some prayers going up for me and my family. But, you have to keep this quiet. Shirley shared with her friends what her husband shared with her. Please pray for our safety as well as for the safety of the whole police force. And please do not discuss this with anyone.Let me pray for you right now, Clara Bow said.Well definitely be praying for you and your family, Nikki said as they headed out the cafe to their cars.

Chapter 17

Clara Bow met with Mylo Easton for a late lunch later that week.Thank you so much for accepting my invitation to lunch, Clara Bow said as they sat down in the restaurant. I just wanted to show my appreciation to you for changing my tire in the rain.You are more than welcome. But like I said, no thanks needed. It was the neighborly thing to do, Mylo said. I hate seeing a lady stranded on the highway, especially when it is raining.He held a stare that locked Clara Bows eyes with his. Nothing flirtatious. It was a stare that commanded she look at him, and one that left her feeling uncomfortable.But I am determined to get some answers, she thought.Are you married, Mr. Easton? Clara Bow asked. Id love to meet your family.Please, call me Mylo. And, no, I am not married. Never have been and never will be.May I ask, why?Ive had too many bad experiences with women; plus, Im not the marrying type, Mylo said.Clara Bow tried not to show alarm of any kind as she remembered Hermoths answer when she had asked her why a man would abduct a woman:Maybe he has unresolved issues with his mother, a sister, or an old girlfriend and takes it out on women.You seem to be a nice person. What woman would not like you? Clara Bow asked.There are women out there who are not so nice, Mylo said. However, you seem nice enough.I try to be, Clara Bow said.I wish more women would try to be nice, Mylo said. Ive had a few girls to stand me up over the years for no reason at all. Well, they could not give me a reason. What gets to me is when I say hello to some in passing and they dont even acknowledge me. I mean, who do they think they are?Clara Bow chuckled more out of nervousness.I knew the minute I changed your tire that you were a woman of a different cut; youre more likeable.Thank you, Clara Bow said. Where do you work?At the auto shop here in town. You know, some of our worst customers are women; they nit-pick at everything, Mylo said.Maybe thats because we dont have a knack for such things. To be frank with you, Im not interested in how to change a tire or how a car works. I just want it to get me from point A to point B, Clara Bow said.Mylo laughed. After the laughter died down, Clara Bow looked him directly in the eyes and said, On a serious note, while we are on the subject of women, I wonder if women being mean-spirited has anything to do with them being abducted. Clara Bow thought she saw a sign of surprised disapproval, but she continued speaking. I could never figure that out. Like this Mayzie Dawkins lady. She comes to mind because shes the latest one reported missing. From the news report she was a loving wife, mother, and friend. Who would want to hurt her? The police believe she was grabbed while at an ATM machine.Mylo Eastons eyebrows quivered. Do you work for the police? he asked.Oh, no, Clara Bow said. I like to read mystery novels and I love to watch re-runs ofCSI,Hill Street Blues, andHawaii Five-0. But I would never work for the police department. I am not going to put my life on the line like they have to.Mylo looked at her askance. Then he chuckled. I love a good detective show myself. It never ceases to amaze me how the police figure out the minds of their suspects.That amazes me also, Clara Bow said. I just love to see the suspense build up as the suspect pulls one over on the police and then just when he thinks hes gotten over on themBam!they catch him. Sobering up, Clara Bow said, I just dont like to see the innocent get hurt though.Clara Bow did not like the look Mylo Easton gave her.As they were wrapping up their meal, Mylo said, We ought to do this again. Let me have your number so I can give you a call to set up a dinner date.I think it would be best if I gave you a call. I have a really weird schedule. Besides, Clara Bow said with a laugh, I thought you expressed dissatisfaction with women earlier.Like I said, youre of a different cut, Mylo said.Thank you. Ill keep that in mind.As soon as they finished their meal, Clara Bow hurried home after making some detours to throw Mylo off lest he decided to follow her. Once home, she made sure her door was locked and wedged a chair under the lock for added protection. Pulling her computer out, and opening it to herMissing Momsfile, she typed furiously her conversation with Mylo Easton, describing his reactions, especially when she mentioned her speculation about Mayzie Dawkins disappearance. Clara Bow ended her chapter with these words: No one knows whether or not she was abducted from an ATM machine. The police did not even put that in their report. Mylos reaction told on him.Chapter 18

He had guilt written all over his face, Clara Bow told her friends on Saturday in the parking lot of the Java Bistro Cafe after their visit to the Dawkins residence en-route to Hermoths apartment to meet her sister and father.When I mentioned Mayzie Dawkins and then threw in that she disappeared while at an ATM machine, he almost choked on his own saliva. He asked me again did I work for the police, Clara Bow said.Clara Bow, how could you have done such a stupid thing like that? Hermoth asked. Do you know he could have hauled you off somewhere and killed you? Then you would be the next missing person.Clara Bow, we told you to leave it alone, Nikki said. You were going on mere speculation.Speculation? Mylo Easton had on the same clothes as the man in the picture, Clara Bow said. I had to find out for myself. And You could have let the police find out for you, Hermoth said. And?And, I am convinced its the same person, Clara Bow said. His reaction gave him away. I wish I had a camera on him.Why didnt you at least let us know what you were up to? We could have sat at another table in the restaurant and keep an eye on you both, Shirley said. Thank God you did not eat at this restaurant. He may come looking for you here.Young and nave, Hermoth said. Dont you ever do that again. You could be dead instead of standing here with us today talking. Lets go meet my sister and my father before I change my mind about you stopping by.Cla