The Survey Says

Janine sat at her table staring over her cup of coffee at her husband waiting for his usual morning rhetorical question, and it didn’t take long.

“So, what do you have planned today?” Tim asked, as he carefully speared another piece of egg with his fork and stuck it in his mouth.

Usually she replied, “Nothing.” Today, she decided, was going to be different. She was putting her foot down.

“I made arrangements to meet Kathy in town for coffee and then we’re going to do a little shopping for her upcoming trip,” she said. 

Tim raised an eyebrow and placed his fork across his plate. “You have coffee here, and she can get whatever she needs just fine by herself. Here’s my list for you.” He slid a long piece of scratch paper across the table at her. 

Janine slid it back after glancing at it. “There’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

I’ll have a new list tomorrow,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t know why you bothered to make plans. You know you can’t keep them. You have to do what I have planned for you. Do you think I have nothing better to do than come up with things to occupy your day?”

“You always make plans for me and it isn’t necessary. I am perfectly capable of planning my own day,” she said.

“You will do what I tell you to do,” he said, his voice flat. “I am the head of this household.”

“It’s my house too,” she pointed out.

“As I recall, you aren’t on the mortgage. I pay for it. It’s my house.”

“Janine stood up. “You wouldn’t let me on the mortgage,” she told him.

“You don’t have a job, he returned, also standing. “We discussed it and it was agreed that you should stay at home and take care of me.”

“No, you discussed it. I went along because it was easier than arguing. If I disagree, you brow-beat me until I cave in and you get your way. I’m sick of it.”

“There’s the door. You’re welcome to use it,” Tim said pointing.

“And if I do?” she challenged him.

He balled his fists and rested them on the table. “You wouldn’t stay gone long. You can’t support yourself. Besides, the day you took my name you became my property. Everything you wear, everything you eat, even your car, belongs to me.”

“I am not your property,” she said slowly, anger seething out of every word.

Tim checked his watch. “I have to go to work, you know, to pay the bills. This had better be done when I get back,” he said pointing to the list. He slammed the door on his way out.

Janine went to a drawer and pulled out an envelope from her doctor’s office. It was the results of a survey they had her fill out at her last checkup. “And the survey says,” she said, re-reading the cover letter, skipping over the introduction. “You are being emotionally abused. He may not have hit you yet, but all indicators project that he will. He is escalating and it won’t take much to set him off.” They included the numbers for marriage and family counselors and a number to call for a referral. She shook her head. 

Janine pulled a cell phone Kathy had given her out of her robe pocket. She hit the speed dial Kathy had programmed into the phone. 

“I can be ready in an hour,” she told her. “Is your aunt sure she wants to take me in.”

“Absolutely,” was the reply. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. 

Janine scribbled a note across Tim’s list. “Do it yourself, jerk. I’m out of here. Since my clothes wouldn’t fit you anyway, I am taking them with me.”

She ran to her room and stuffed her clothes and personal items into paper sacks. “Wouldn’t want you coming after me because I took your luggage,” she said to herself. She looked out the window when she heard the car and sighed with relief that it was Kathy. She had left the door unlocked for her so she was wasn’t surprised when Kathy stood in the doorway.

“Ready?” Kathy asked her.

“As I’ll ever be,” Janine said. She threw the keys on the counter beside her note and walked out the door.

Community Theater Excellent Opportunty for Children

With the economy pretty much in the tank schools are making extreme cutbacks and of course the first things to be cut are the arts. It's been well known for years. I have noticed that people are passionate about keeping sports in schools, but not as loud when it comes to art, music, and drama. Why is that? If you think about it, you have to acknowledge that not everyone is cut out to be on the team for whatever sport the school has and I do know that schools are also cutting sports or are consolidating with other districts in order to continue participating. I understand the team work concept that sports teach, and that some kids get scholarships from playing sports, but not all kids who participate in sports get a scholarship. Just like not all kids who participate in the arts get a scholarship. One can argue however, that the arts can appeal to more students, and one doesn't often get injured participating in music, except for the occasional dance injury, or art (which can lead to many careers such as architecture, graphic design, web design, etc.). Does anyone think about how drama (theater) helps students? Try acting if you can't read and read well. Theater helps with confidence, overcoming shyness (as it did me), learning to multitask, which is important in most jobs, keeping grades up if their parents (and the schools) make it a part of participation, staying active (learning dance steps and when to do them). I had two left feet and I learned to dance because of community theater.

I was recently contacted by a new company out of Chicago called Compass Creative Dramatics because of an article I had written years ago regarding community theater. They are trying to raise awareness of the importance of community theater for children and plan to take small productions to several cities throughout the Midwest. They have testimonials on their website and videos on their YouTube page of people telling their memories of being involved in community theater. I, too, gave them some material. They are trying to raise money to get the project started and what a worthy project it is! Check out their website http://www.ccdramatics.com/index.html and their YouTube page
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DeMxvqipOto .  Hey, if you have something to add to their testimonials, go ahead; I'm sure they would appreciate it.

I have to wonder if more people in other areas endeavored to undertake such projects the void left by the schools would be filled and children would find something to do who might otherwise just sit around the house vegetating, or get into trouble 'just hanging out'. There isn't always a Boys and Girls Club (or such other club) available for them; I know there isn't where I live, but there is a small community theater. Get involved, won't you?

Green Acres is the Place for Me!

Okay, so this time of year, we don't necessarily have green acres, but do you remember the television show Green Acres? I do, and I can still get it when the weather cooperates. Growing up I lived on a farm pretty close to that one, sans the closet door emergency exit. We were only there for a little while, but I thought all farms were that way at the time, even though my grandparents lived on a farm with a nice house. I always liked the barn my grandparents had, even though the boards didn't quite meet and if the wind blew it went right through it. I think it was supposed to be that way since my grandparents raised tobacco and they dried it in there- this was before the fancy drying buildings with the heaters and blowers on them.

We moved into yet another farm house when I was a teenager. It was huge, but the bathroom was an add-on and it wasn't level so the bathtub didn't drain properly. It didn't have a barn, but it was a crop farm and they raised watermelons the year we moved out. I loved walking the fields to the fishing pond.That was cool. The house was oddly laid out too. If one wanted to go into the kitchen or the dining room, they had to go through a porch that had been enclosed. We found snakes in there once in a while. Come to think of it, we did at the other one too. Yuk. 

My husband and I moved onto a rented farm shortly after we married and it had a nice house- one of my favorite houses where I have ever lived. It had small outbuildings but it had a lot of acreage and we raised beef cattle and raised wheat, soybeans, and truck cropped vegetables that we sold at the State Farmers Market in Thomasville, Georgia. I enjoyed that too. We had live water on the property, which means a spring-fed creek to cool off in on really hot days. That was nice.

I have lived on several farms over the years and my husband has yet to put me in one that is Green Acres-like. We did live in his old homestead in Missouri where he grew up that was interesting. It was built on a log foundation with rocks around the edges. A groundhog had gotten in where the rocks had been removed to retrofit plumbing for the bathroom (yes, it was that old). The rascal had gnawed his way almost all the way across the floor joists. He was huge! My son and I watched him through the living room window eating flowers and acorns in the front yard. There was squirrel that used to hang out on the front porch and look in the door through the baby gate and my other son. I think he tried to talk to it, but since no one knows what babies are saying, who knows? We moved into a newer house a couple years later and it was eventually torn down. We had cows and hogs then.

In Wisconsin we lived in a huge house with six bedrooms and a hidden toilet at the top of the stairs. That was interesting! Careful going up those stairs man! It was an old house and we couldn't quite figure out what rooms were supposed to be what in the lower level. The bathroom was built into an alcove under the stairs so it was small and it had a pocket door for an entrance. I still really liked the house, even if it was too big and the bathroom too small. Now we live on another farm with a big old barn - I love big barns. The house actually needs more rooms just to accommodate grandchildren. But, oh man, do I have fun with the cows. They are a bunch of characters. My husband thinks I spend too much time with them since most have names and I can pet them like dogs. But then I have fun on my little tractor too, and wandering the nearly 120 acres with my Labrador retriever. And, I have creeks all over the place- the dog really likes those. Too bad it snows and has to ruin everything.

I have been  in cities and to tell you the truth, I can't sleep there. I can't breathe there. It is way too loud and the houses are too close for my comfort. So, yes, the line in the Green Acres theme song holds true with me, and the only time I'd wager anything is to say that it probably does with a lot of farmers too. "Green acres is the place for me," and especially, 'Take Manhattan; just give me that country side!"

Missing - Part IV

Philomena gasped. “That was my maiden name. It has to be him,” she said, smiling and crying at the same time. “But why didn’t he let us know he was alive?”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know ma’am. The fact that he is alive is a miracle in itself. Most missing persons gone this long are never found alive, if at all.”

“Here is his room number Edward,” Alice said handing him a card with the room number on it. “Visiting hours end soon though, so you’d better hurry. I don’t know if there is a limit on his visitors though.”

“We look enough alike; maybe they’ll think we’re the same person if they don’t see us together,” Jerry said smartly.

“Jerry!” his mother said. “I’m sure they’ll let you both in to see your dad.” She shook her finger at them both. “No pulling that at school either. I’ve been asked if you were doing that by your teachers.”

The boys smiled at each other but didn’t say anything. 

Edward led them to the floor where Terry was lying covered with several blankets sleeping with an oxygen tube draped around his face forcing the oxygen-rich air into his nose. He rattled as he breathed. He looked gaunt under the covers with a very thin and pale face with dark circles under his eyes. His previously robust body had wasted away to half his previous weight. Machines beeped and blipped and numbers flashed in cycles sending information to the nurse’s station.

“Terry,” Philomena said. She took his hand gently in hers, careful of the IV line inserted into the back of his wrist. “Terry, it’s me Philomena. Please wake up Terry.”Her eyes filled with tears and she batted her lids to keep them at bay.

 He opened his eyes slowly and struggled to focus. “Philomena?”

“Yes, Terry; it’s me. I have the boys here too.”

He cried as he recognized his wife. “Philomena, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed away. I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“Now, why would you think that?”

“This guy robbed me and hit me over the head and I woke up in the back of a truck. The driver was sure surprised when he found me. He put me in the cab and cleaned up my head.” He pointed to a place on his head where there wasn’t any hair. “I must be hard headed because it left a scar where that guy clobbered me. I heard on the radio that the cops had been led on a chase in my car and they thought I was dead. I just knew that was your way out. I mean, we were about to lose everything and I couldn’t find steady work. I thought you could collect on the insurance money and everything would be good.” He stopped talking when he began coughing, his body wracked with pain as he tried to hold his chest.

Philomena touched his hand when the spell eased. “Silly man. The insurance wouldn’t pay without a body and I wouldn’t have you declared legally dead without one either. I found a job and finished school. I have a better job now and we still have the house. Terry, we would have figured it out.” She used a cloth to wipe away tears from his face. 

The boys gathered closer on the opposite side of the bed careful of the cables attached to him. They smiled down at him.

“Oh my God, these can’t be my two boys, they were just little critters getting into everything and throwing toys all over.”

“Yeah, well, we kind got over the throwing stuff all over the place,” Jerry said. “Mom put the hammer down on us. It’s okay though. We don’t mind. She didn’t do so bad. Gary here is going to graduate top of the class.”

Terry smiled. “What about you?”

“Not so close to the top,” he answered with a grin, “But not too close to the bottom either. Mom isn’t riding me or anything, so I guess it isn’t all that bad.”

“I’m proud of you all. Philomena, you did such a great job with the boys. I don’t know how you managed it. I’m so sorry.” He turned to the social worker whom he recognized from the shelter. “How much trouble am I in?”

“I don’t think you’re in any trouble. Even if the statute of limitations wasn’t up, you weren’t the one driving the car. You didn’t even know about the chase until it was over. The insurance didn’t pay out so there shouldn’t be any fraud charges brought. You can probably just go home after you get out of here.”

Terry thanked him and tried to take a deep breath but only got wheezing and more coughing for the effort. A nurse came in and told them visiting hours were over for the afternoon and that they would have to come back in the evening. She had a bag of medication in her hand and changed it out on the IV machine. 

“He’s on some pretty strong antibiotics,” she told them in a mater-of-fact manner. “He’s pretty ill.”

“When do you think we’ll be able to take him home?”

“Who are you?” the nurse asked.

“I’m his wife,” Philomena answered.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t realize. I thought you were with the social services department.”

Philomena indicated her sons. “Surely you didn’t think they were.”

“I didn’t even notice them they were being so quiet. I’m so sorry. Actually, ma’am, even though we’re giving him the medications and keeping him on oxygen, he may not make it. He’s been living on the streets for a long time and not in the greatest of conditions.” She lifted Terry’s arm. “Oh no,” she said. “Someone should have checked him before they let anyone in.”

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween. I saw so many cute costumes on my way home, it almost made me wistful to live in town where I could actually get kids asking for candy shouting "Tick or treat!" Mine used to do that, and growing up in the small town in Florida we did too. My older brother used to dress up as Dracula with a big dark cape our mother made for him and his face done in white with red in all the right places and his hair slicked back with God knows what. He liked to ride around on his ten-speed and occasionally climb up on the car hood of some poor, unsuspecting mom who was watching her kids at the door of a house and not through her windshield. I heard one scream all the way down the block. I looked for her husband to take revenge on my brother for pulling that, but he never did. We knew everybody so he knew who he could scare like that. I was the Hunch Back one year - shredded pant legs and an oversized shirt with a pillow belted into the back. I had black eyeliner streaked on my arms and legs and face and my hair done up crazy. I don't think I scared anyone, but I had a lot of fun. A shame I had to grow up and out of that.

Still, as much as I miss the ghosts and goblins of Halloween that we very seldom get (three or four in thirteen years) I guess I'll stick with living out in the sticks in the peace and quiet. Everyone goes to town to trick-or-treat.

Welcome to My First Blog

This is my first blog and boy am I ever nervous! Welcome just the same. I am Eliza Lynn Taylor and I am a freelance writer, among other things. Visit my About Me page for more information please.

What you can expect from You Never Know...
Well, it is called You Never Know. Why? I am eclectic is the simplest answer. While I have a website with lots of information (http://www.elizalynntaylor.com) which has more information on me and my writing, including a subscription button to a newsletter I put out every month called Livin' in the Sticks where I write to a subscribers only e-mail list with either a full short story or a section of a serialized short story, I also want to get the word out to a broader audience that I am first and foremost professionally a writer. I may have an outside job, but my heart is in writing. I also have a farm and I may include stories (or rants) about farming on occasion.If you've ever been kicked by a cow, you'll know what I mean. I get on a roll once in a while about something in the news, for instance, and I will definitely tell you about it here. This is new to me and as I said, I am eclectic, so you never know what I'm likely to write about. I might include a short story once in a while and I will precede the story with a warning if it's not for children. I don't use strong profanity, but writers must break their own personal codes of language sometimes during literary pursuits. I promise not to use certain words though here that are, or should be, considered extremely offensive - no dropping of alphabet artillery here.

So, wish me luck with this new endeavor and if you don't mind, wish me luck, because writers work very hard at their craft, and pour their heart and soul into it, with selling my work as well.

I have work (articles and fiction) on Associated Content.com as well as posts of Gather.com, so you see, I have been busy!  

Sincerely,
Eliza Lynn Taylor