June 11, 2007

"Seven Days To Live"

Gotcha, didn't I? This MAY be the title of my book... But....

Here's a tidbit FROM the MIDDLE book I'm writing. (They say it's okay to tantalize.)


Samantha ignored the ringing of the telephone. Years ago she would have ran for the jingle, but life had shown her that telephones, cellphones, I-Pods, computers and other encumbering devices have a way of deceiving you into an urgency that is usually not there.

"Sorry, but they say it's an urgent call from your son," the voice at the end of the receiver said in a calm but worried tone.

At The Laughing Place, Samantha's strong business skills, commanding attitude and loving guidance had accomplished what no one had done before in Alzheimer's research and development. She and her wise and wonderful husband had developed a magical place of beauty and serene care for those devastated by the ravaging effects of this strange mind-killing disease.

Samantha was well respected by the community and her family, but The Laughing Place was her whole life. She hadn't been away from her business in more than five years.

But it wasn't her son on the phone. It was his wife who didn't sound like her usual pleasant, confident self.

"There's been a terrible accident. Ruben got caught in a freak updraft while hang-gliding, and he's been hurt. They say he will recover, but he has a lot of broken bones. He's in surgery and we really need you here now."

"I'll be on the first plane there," Samantha assured her daughter-in-law without thought as to how that would be accomplished on such short notice.


"Why can't you stay for a few more days and oversee my therapy? I do so much better with your explanations of everything they're doing, and when you push me to take one more step," Ruben urged his mother.

"I'm wish I could stay longer. Oh how I really wish I could," Samantha said with deep sympathy.

"You don't love me! All you care about is that nasty nursing home for crazy people. Why did you even come here? I thought you were a real mother!"

Taking a deep shuttering sigh, Samantha knew it was time. She must confide a sacred secret that might bring down everything she and Cletus had worked for these past five years in the twilight of their life's journey.

Ignoring the stony silence and stiffened body language, Samantha nodded in affirmation at her first-born son with eyes of blue and a heart of gold. With a touch soft as a fledgling's feather, she knelt gently beside the hospital bed.

"It's called the mother of all computer chips, and it's embedded in my left eye," she said impassively.

Leaning closer to his bruised face, she added, "It's what keeps The Laughing Place alive. All functions will cease if I'm away for more than six days! On the seventh day, all functions there are irreversibly damaged. You and Cletus are the only people in the world who know this secret and no one else must ever know. But, that's why I must return now. And you will go with me to recover and heal there!"

Stunned and silent, Ruben stared intently into his mother's dark brown eyes. "I-don't-see-anything", he said slowly.

Gently pulling down the lower eyelid, Samantha leaned even closer to her son's unbelieving face. Ruben's body rippled with a slight shiver as he looked stupefied and mesmerized at the tiny golden speck of pulsating light previously hidden by his mother's long eyelashes.

"OMG" was all the Ruben could murmur as he bowed his head in shame.

"I'm so sorry, mom," Ruben choked as Samantha gathered his traction-encased body into her arms.

"Now can I go home?" she asked with a smiling giggle....

PS - You know the government is going to try and take my computer chip, don't you?
But, wait until you read about the magical properties of The Laughing Place! Have you guessed the reason for the name? Maybe something to do with laughing gas....???

Take Care on the Journey,


Katy said...

Hmmm, what an interesting twist!

I'm hooked on fiction, so of course I want to know what happens next. . .

Mountain Laurel said...

Ahhh, wait for the next chapter!

I'm glad you like fiction. In my past life, SDA's did not read fiction (or if they did, they never told anyone!). So, me writing like this does bring up a few old ghosts.
I need all the support I can get.

Mama Linda