Julie in the Rain

Here is my June topic that is way late. Oh my! Luke, I would like to say that I loved your topic and I feel crazy just now getting to it. But I'm working on catching up with all of the Ditalini topics.

Julie was "bored to death" as she liked to say, and she hadn't a car to travel. She began calling friends and family to visit her while her Lexus was in the shop down the road. Her car was her baby - without it she was beginning to feel a lot like a child.
"Tom? This is Julie. Hey. Are you and Patricia busy today? What've you got going on?" She was frantic with the address book, wondering how she had so many people listed within it but so few of those names were people she wanted around. Julie was in need of some new friends. Exciting ones.
Just as Julie reached for her coffee mug to get a refill, she heard tapping on the far kitchen window. "What?" She exclaimed out loud. As she shuffled her stocking feet to check out the noise, a fierce wind threw a plastic flower pot at the house and an incredible rain pummeled the glass pane. She stood in wonder at where this sudden storm had come from. "Argh!" She stomped her right foot and on the way down hit her toe on the table leg. "This day couldn't get any worse! Oh my God!" Julie felt like her day would be best spent in bed with some sleeping pills. "Just let it end." She began to walk toward her bedroom with a "Home & Away" magazine she'd already read through years ago, when she heard a faint knock on the door. Her eyes widened and her ears started to tingle. "Could it be? Someone has answered my call? Oh Angel!" She whipped the magazine onto the floor and skipped over to the door expected to see a familiar face. She threw the door back and there was someone there alright, but might unfamiliar. "Hello, could you spare some dollars for the Wildlife fund at my school? I'm sorry to bother you." A small thin girl stood there completely drenched with her knees clasped together and shaking. "What are you doing in the rain?" Julie asked in a sour tone. "I thought you were someone else."
"Well, the rain just hit ma'am, and I didn't foresee it coming."
"If you'd like to get warm then come on in. But I don't have any bills. Just change."
"I can make it home alright. I'll just wait on the porch til it passes. My fundraiser form says to not go inside."
"Hell girl! You're going to freeze. I have a warm couch just inches away! Come in please, I'd hate for you to get sick."
"Alright ma'am."
The girl entered the warm home and felt instantly better and surprisingly comfortable. "You have a nice home."
"It's really nice right now!" Julie laughed. "I was cleaning up this morning for guests."
"Oh! I didn't realize. I should definitely be going then."
"No dear, just sit down... here is a towel for you. Dry off."
"Are they not coming over?"
"Not today. No one could make it. So what's your name?"
"I'm Claire. I go to school at Middlemonte. I can't believe how cold it got, my mom might be worried. Can I call her from here?"
"Of course, I'll get the phone." Julie grabbed the portable and handed it to Claire, who was now wrapped in a giant towel sitting on the edge of the couch. Claire began to dial.
"Momma? I'm at a lady's house. I was in the rain and she invited me in." Claire paused for a moment, and then put her palm on the talking end. "My mom wants to talk to you."
Julie took the phone and spoke, "How are you! My name is Julie."
"I'm just fine. Is Claire alright?" The mother sounded quite jovial for asking a concerned question.
"Claire is warming up, she'll be fine. I couldn't believe the weather. Just hit us out of nowhere."
"Right. It was intense and I realize Claire hadn't gotten very far but she has all those papers to carry and I'd hate for her to ruin them. Sorry for the inconvenience of having her."
"It's fine, really. Just one of those sorry, kind of drab days anyway. I wasn't busy." Julie looked up at Claire who was trying to separate her fundraiser brochures to lay them out on the floor to dry.
"Well, I'll be over to pick up Claire. Where are you? I actually was supposed to be somewhere so I might need to leave now." The mother's voice was calm and relaxing to Julie's ears. She liked this woman.
"I'm on Fallbrook and Vestin, right on that roundabout. You know the gray barn by the road? That's mine."
"I've seen it! Thank you ..." the mother paused.
"It was Julie."
"Oh, that's right. Great. Thank you Julie. My name is Reba."
"Like the singer." Julie gave an awkward laugh. "Ok I'll be seeing you then."
"Bye Julie."

Julie walked to the front door and checked to make sure the gray barn was still in the front yard. Only minutes later, she watched as a small yellow sports car pulled into the drive. Out walked a vibrant woman dressed in a beautiful beige dress that extended to her ankles. Her hair was pulled back and there were sparkly barrettes on each side of her head. Julie noticed that Reba had a very youthful walk. "Hey there!" Julie yelled from the front porch. "Looks like the rain subsided a bit just for you!"
Reba laughed and gently brushed the light wetness from her shoulders. "I'm all dressed up, I know!"
Just as Julie went to open the front door to get Claire, the door opened up and Claire outstretched her arm with the towel. "Thanks for that." Claire smiled and waved timidly to her mother.
"Going somewhere fancy?" Julie asked Reba.
"I think I'm a little overdressed. My best friend Shiela gave a book reading last week, and she's throwing a party to celebrate. We're all very excited for her."
"Oh wow! That's incredible. What an inspiration." Julie felt a tinge of envy, as she had wanted to get published for almost a decade. "What is the book?"
Reba took ahold of Claires shoulders and began to rub them. " "Monkey in the Middle'. It's a memoir."
Julie almost dropped to the ground. She knew the book. "You're kidding me right?! That book is amazing! I just read it!"
"Oh my goodness! Isn't that something?!" Reba smiled and looked at Claire.
"That is strange." Claire sayed softly.
"Hey! Why don't you come to the party with us!" Reba looked back at Julie.
"What?!" She laughed heartily. "I would be so out of place, not to mention what I'm wearing!"
They all chuckled together and then Reba said, "I'm already late, and she said I could bring a friend. I think it would be a lot of fun. I don't really know any one else there."
"Really?! You really don't mind?"
"Not at all. Go get dressed!" Reba nudged.
Julie ran quickly inside and changed clothes. She was so excited! "This might just be the start of a great friendship." She thought to herself as she looked into her bedroom mirror. She smiled as she grabbed her purse and dug for her lipstick.
"I'm coming!" She yelled to Reba and Claire. "I'm just going to put the towel in the dryer!"

Blue Ridge Lake

None of them had ever been in the water at Blue Ridge Lake. The steep cliffs that surrounded the perimeter of the lake made it too treacherous for anyone to even consider jumping in. They had heard enough stories from their parents about those who fell into the lake and never return. But today when they all met at the lake, like they have done countless times in the past, they found something sticking out of the water that none of them had ever seen before.

Grant looked on in disbelief as Antoine climbed down from the strange object after going to touch the surface of the water. Everyone cheered as Antoine strutted back to the group. Dante was going to be the next to go, but he chickened out; so the attention turned to Grant. No one was really expecting Dante to go anyway. To be able to say that he was in the water at Blue Ridge Lake and live to tell about it, was an opportunity that Grant felt he could not pass up. Grant finally summoned the courage to do it after a lot of antagonizing from Antoine. He climbed up onto the object and peered into the water.

Grant stared into the lake as he stood on top of the strange orange object protruding out of the water. Then, he took a deep breath, and started down toward the water. The orange object come out of the lake and rested on one of ridges, providing a seemingly safe way to get into the lake and climb back out. What could go wrong?

The decent into the water was a piece of cake. The porous surface of the object made it easy for Grant to keep his footing and he reached the surface of the water in no time at all. Feeling cocky, he even swam in the water a few minutes before getting back on the object to climb back to the surface. He was about half-way back to the top when he noticed the water below him getting choppy. He started to move faster when the object suddenly slid off the ridge and totally submerged into the water and disappeared.

It was almost as if something pulled it into the lake. Grant suddenly found himself on the surface of the water with no way to get out. Grant was in a state of sheer and utter panic. He swam to the ridge but there was no way to get out. The blue ridge was too steep and slippery for him to get any kind of grip. He saw his friends at the top of the ridge looking down and calling his name. There was nothing they could do for him and Grant started drifting further and further into the lake.

After Grant was floating around for awhile he noticed that he was in some sort of current. He was excited because he thought the current may take him to a point on the lake where the cliffs would not be so high. His initial hope turned to fear as he saw that the current was taking him to a mysterious cave. As he got closer and closer he saw that there was a giant whirlpool inside the cave! Grant tried to swim against the current to no avail, he soon realized he would inevitably be sucked into the cave and down the whirlpool.

Paralyzed with fear Grant accepted his fate and let the current take him to certain death. Just as Grant was about to enter the cave he noticed the water getting choppy again; just as it did when the orange object was pulled into the water. Grant was getting thrown around in the water and he could barely breathe. He fought to stay afloat as the water got rougher and rougher.

Suddenly, the water was calm and Grant felt as if he was being lifted from the lake. He looked around and saw what seemed to be two enormous hands cradling the water beneath him. Before he knew it, he felt the water rushing over him as if he was caught in a tidal wave. As the water subsided, Grant realized that he was back on solid ground again. Unable to comprehend what had just happened Grant stumbled to his feet, found his bearings and started back to the colony, armed with the most amazing story any of them will have ever heard.

Mennonite and Amish Surfing Classic

Welcome to Big Sur, California.
Home of surf, sand, and bikini's.
I'm your host Dave Draper.
Not so long ago surfing was a hedonist sport, now
like everything else in the modern world there's a twist.
This week at least you can see solemn bearded men wearing
hats and long pants riding the waves.

It all started with a vision of one Ely Timer. Spending most of his childhood
on a buckboard plow, he began to innovate creative plowing styles to augment
long torturous days under the hot Pennsylvania sun. By age 13 he was having visions
of surfing in the ocean. Elders advised him to stop his nightly visitations on the
Astral realms, but he couldn't find any scripture that forbade his explorations.

As a young man he kept with his church and upbringing, but on annual pilgrimages
to California religious conferences, he would try and surf in his free time.
And, guess what, he was outrageously successful.
Big surfing names were stunned when they first saw him hit the waves.

Scott (Snogler-Dog) Avis had this to say,
"One Saturday I kept seeing this black hat....man, that was a day that
changed my life. Here's a wiry farm kid hanging in with me and the guys on some
shirt ripping pipe. Nobody comes from nowhere and does what he does."

Comments from the Snogler taped earlier today.
Now to live coverage of todays surfing event.
Three finalists have been selected to compete this afternoon.

First off,
Garret Hershberger, Home; Rossville, Indiana.
They call him the Box Lunch. Big hefty, a bit hot tempered. He can get hotter than a box
lunch at sundown. He hopes to see a Christopher Walken movie some day.

Second on the board is, McDoo Collins, Home; Sedalia, Ohio
Likes to balance a strawberry pie on his head while surfing.
Known as the silent-showoff, he's fond of muscle beach and
dedicated to getting rid of his farmers tan.

Finally, the favorite, Ely Timer. Pennsylvania native.
A real natural. His techniques are solid. A quiet retiring gentleman,
who reminds me of Gary Cooper. He credits his drive to his grandfather.

I am joined now by surf champ Lawrence Kahuna-Camp Nelson.
That's right Dave, ah no one knows where these guys practice, they're here
once a year. Get on their own home-made boards and ride like repo'd demons.
I have a theory Dave, unsupported, but I feel like most of the surfing crowns have
spent too much time on hallucinogens and a salad bar of other substances.
These guys, did none of that. Clear headed focus, and they can practice 1000 miles
away from the ocean in their mind's eye.

Interesting theory KC, nobody knows how they do what they do.
They are fun to watch. We spoke with Ely yesterday after practice.

"Ely. We are glad we could join you today for a few words."

"Hey Snog, hey KC."

"What do you think of the first televised coverage of this event?"

"Well, not much. My community certainly won't support any of this."

"What about the rest of your fans that have turned out for you here this week?"

"Oh, I don't know, I suppose curiosity."

"Well, we all wish you good luck."

"Goodbye"

Gone Fishing

It's a beautiful sunny Saturday, and the lake looks like pure glass as we approach it. I take it all in from my perch high atop my Dad's shoulders. We reach the end of the pier, and he lifts me easily into the shiny red boat with the black motor; settling me onto the passenger seat. Our rods and tackle box are already on board, along with a big cooler. Dad steps in quickly, unties the boat, and slides behind the wheel. He grins at me and says, "We're goin' fishin' girl!"

With a turn of the key, the engine roars to life. I don't like the noise. It's loud and scary. Then Dad thrusts the throttle into gear and, as the boat leaps forward, I am thrown back into my seat. "Isn't this fun?" Dad yells over the engine noise. I'm scared. I can't swim, and it doesn't really feel like fun to me. But, I say, "Yes" anyway.

I turn and ask him, "Don't I need a life jacket? Mom said to be sure to wear one." He laughs and shouts back at me, "Mom's not here, and life jackets are for sissies. You're not a sissy are you?" I say, "No", but I think maybe I am, because I want to wear a life jacket like Mom said. Ashes from Dad's cigarette are blown into my face and they burn. I brush them away quickly, and try not to cry. Dad doesn't like cry babies or sissies.

He leans over and says, "Hey, Buddy, Want to drive?" I say, "No. That's OK Dad. You drive." He frowns and says, "Don't be a baby. I want to go in back and adjust the motor. I need you to steer straight ahead while I go do that. You're my co-pilot aren't you? Now don't make any turns. Just keep straight ahead. OK?" I don't want to drive the boat. My heart is racing and my stomach's flip flopping, but I slide into the drivers seat and grip the wheel, because I don't want to disappoint him. I say, "Sure, Dad. I'm your co-pilot."

He smiles and goes in back to work on the motor. We fly across the water. I steer straight ahead and it seems like the shore is coming up really, really fast. But Dad said not to turn the wheel. I'm so scared. The tears are coming out of my eyes, and I can't stop them this time. I'm even afraid I'm going to wet my pants. Hurry, Dad. Please, hurry.

At last he is there beside me again taking the wheel. He pats me on the head and says, "Good job." I look away and scoot back into the passenger seat. Then he looks at me, frowning, and barks, "Oh my God! You're not crying are you?" I say nothing. I wipe away the tears and hang my head in shame. I've ruined everything by being a baby. Why can't I just be brave like he wants me to be?

Dad tosses an empty brown bottle over the side and grabs another one from the cooler. He opens it quickly, then turns the boat, cutting back around and bumping over our wake. We bounce off our seats, and he laughs and drinks from the brown bottle again, and yells above the wind, "Let's go catch us some fish!"

The Insistence of a Rose , a Small Vase and Some Water

She looked down at the floor and fiddled with her collar button.
"My cousin is in the hospital." She said finally.
"She's ninety and she's not doing very well."
She got up and went into the bathroom. She came back out with two plastic curlers in her bangs and began putting on a gold leaf pin.
"I'm going to go visit her. Maybe for the last time."
It wasn't the season for sadness: spring was calling the flowers into bloom and the sound of birds singing came through the open windows.
"Why don't you bring her a rose?" I asked. The climbing rose bush next to the front door was laden with powder pink roses.
She shook her head and touched her collar button again.
"No, its not worth it, she won't even notice."
I remembered I had a small portable vase with a waterproof, rubber lid from a bouquet given to me at my marriage. It was a beautiful bunch of spring wildflowers. Yes, it was there, behind the silverware. I filled it with water and grabbed the heavy silver pruning sheers with curved toucan beak blades and started to walk downstairs. But the vase leaked water onto my thumb. There was a hole in the bottom. I had saved another. This one didn't leak. I laid out the portable vase filled with water, and the shears on the downstairs counter and said to her:
"All you need to do is cut the rose you like."
I was folding laundry when she passed the doorway. A pale rose was sticking out of her black patent leather purse.
When she returned from the hospital her eyes were all sparkly blue and she took my forearm with her hand.
"I don't think my cousin saw the rose, but the family was so touched by it. They said it was the most beautiful flower they had ever seen. Everyone, even the nurses coming in and out of the hospital room, noticed that rose."
A week later I was out jogging when she got the phone call that her cousin had passed away. When I finished my neighborhood loop, up the street, sprinting to the front door, she was oddly standing there in her white terrycloth robe, holding her black cane, admiring the rose bush.
She had watery eyes. I was out of breath. She urged me inside. The still air in the house made me sweat profusely.
"I got a phone call this morning. It was the family. They want me to bring a rose to the funeral. They want her to be buried holding a rose from the same rose bush. That rose that I brought lasted eight days-"
I felt a tear roll and mingle with the perspiration on my hot cheek-"That rose that I brought lasted eight days," she continued, "in just that little bit of water."

Reader Bite: Drew! Underwater Inspiration . . .

Just in time to gain inspiration for our June Topic, beautiful Drew Barrymore has been featured in the May 2009 issue of Elle. See her underwater fashion-shoot photos here along with the runway versions of the same designer dresses.