Forever: and other stories

By Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

A collection of stories about life -- and death -- and life forever. Includes:

"The Little Books That Ran Away" a story for children about what happens to books that are not appreciated

"A Walk in the Evening Fog" about a man blinded in an automobile accident many years before

"An Untitled Life" about a secret family history a grandmother reveals to her grandson

"Reflections in a Broken Mirror" which takes place in the last second of the life of a man who has just cut open a vein in his arm

"The Thickness of Blood" about a young man who has to make a painful decision

"Forever" a story of two souls that continue meeting in one life after another.

Plus five more!

(Several stories include adult content.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Geoffrey McPherson
• Release date: Apr 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476086743

Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

In more than three decades as a professional writer/journalist, Christopher has covered myriad subjects and interviewed thousands of people from the famous to the unknown. He brings these years of experience to each of his novels.In his career, his work has appeared in daily newspapers, monthly magazines, extensively on radio and the occasional dalliance with television. He has written advertising copy and radio commercials – and continues to write.Prior to this new novel, "Sincerely, Dina Lamont," Christopher wrote novels about the most famous cat in ancient Japan who had special powers in “A Cat in Time,” and “22: The Biography of a Gun,” a tale set in the near future where guns are strictly controlled yet where one manages to make its way into the hands of those who want it. Previously, Christopher spent more than five years creating a series of novels that take place in 1930s Los Angeles called “The James Murray Mysteries.” Books in the series are "Murder at Eastern Columbia," “Sabotage at RKO Studio,” “Abduction at Griffith Observatory,” “Blackmail at Wrigley Field,” and “Haunting at Ocean House.”Other writing featuring his byline includes "The Babi Makers" – a science fiction tale about a world where the most important resource is babies; "Sarah & Gerald" – a novel about Paris in the 1920s; "Forever - and other stories" – a collection of short stories; "The Life Line" – the novel of the big one that levels San Francisco; "News on the Home Front" – a novel of two friends during World War Two; and "Mama Cat" – a book for children. Also, several short plays, a few radio plays and a boatload of radio documentaries.

Book preview

Forever - and Other Stories

by Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

Forever - and other stories

Copyright 2012 by Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover design by Matt Hinrichs

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Forever - and other stories

is dedicated to my spouse, Matt

CONTENTS

The Little Books that Ran Away

Le Rendez-vous dans le Parc

My Father's Old Car

A Walk in the Evening Fog

An Untitled Life

Reflections in a Broken Mirror

The Thickness of Blood

... for Her Convenience*

Phillip

So Like Home

Forever

*originally published in Guide magazine 1985

The Little Books that Ran Away

WHIRRRRR! cried Steven as he rounded the recliner, his newest airplane from the Fighting Force video game flying high, held aloft by his little hand. The model plane was the latest attempt by his parents to ease Steven's unhappiness over having lost his favorite toy: a large, stuffed goldfish that, after having been worn out from too much love, was thrown away.

Make-believe bombs dropped onto make-believe enemy outposts as the plane swooped around the coffee table, Steven supplying appropriate sound effects. He rose from the thick, white carpeting and ran, bullets strafing the chair in which his mother sat reading the newspaper. He ambushed her with a giant bear-hug, banked the plane, then led it on its flight back home into the safety of his bedroom. It crashed mere inches from home base, being knocked from his hand when Steven bumped into the old bookcase just inside the bedroom. Stupid bookcase, he said as several books of various shapes and colors tumbled onto the floor where they laid, ignored, by Steven, too busy providing appropriate sound effects for the tiny ambulance quickly speeding to the site of the plane crash. Make-believe medics rushed to the plane which sat upside down, consumed by make-believe flames.

Steven did not notice a worn copy of the book Treasure Island crawling slowly out of the room and into a small opening in the wainscoting, followed closely behind by a newish copy of the book Saving Our Forest Friends, and a hand-me-down copy of Mother Goose.

The next morning the brown-haired boy with big brown eyes ran down the hallway, kissing Father as he darted around the breakfast table. 'bye! he said, squirming his way into the breakfast-table chair, the smell of hot oatmeal occupying his thoughts. Hurry home!

Suddenly, he hopped down from the chair and ran into his bedroom: He had forgotten the airplane which, overnight, had been repaired like new by a make-believe maintenance crew. He rounded the bed, collected the airplane, then collided again with the same bookcase causing several more books to cascade onto the floor.

He dashed back toward his waiting breakfast, not noticing the brand-new copy of Vanity Fair darting for safety around the leg of a chair, hiding, waiting for the boy to leave. When all was safe the book crept, cautiously, out the door into the same hole, followed by Camp Fire Tales of Ghosts and Goblins and his father's old copy of A Boy's First Book of Numbers.

Weeks and months went by and Steven's father would make sure he found time to read him a story. Father loved to read to his young son, always allowing Steven to choose the book. After a short while Father noticed the only book Steven wanted read was Mr. Goldfish's Perilous Journey. Curious, Father finally asked why. Steven replied innocently, But there are no other books to read, Father.

Father lifted Steven from his lap. Let's see if we can't find one of my old books to read for a change, he said. Father entered the bedroom and stood, face-to-face, with the dust-coated shelves of the now completely empty bookcase.

Where have all the books gone? Father asked.

I dunno, Steven replied.

Steven had never been to a library before. He was amazed at the many books lining the walls. He walked closely behind Father as they approached a very large wooden desk.

Behind the imposing desk sat a very old yet wise-looking woman reading a tattered, obviously much-loved book of poetry. She smiled at them, gently folded the book's covers and placed it on the desk. May I help you find something?

I want, Father started. I mean, my son wants a book for me to read to him.

The old woman, whom Steven noticed to be much older than Gramma, smiled knowingly as she led them into the children's section of the big library. What shall it be? she asked, leading the way to one end of the library. A classic? A children's story? She paused, then looked down at the little boy following close behind. A book on toy airplanes perhaps? She gave Steven a knowing glance that sent a chill right through him. It was the same chill he felt when he knew he had been caught being bad.

They walked past rows and rows of books. Father saw one he recognized. Grabbing it, he opened it and saw his own name scribbled, childlike, on the inside cover. But this is my copy! he said, frantically. It was at our house. How it got here, I'll never know.

The old woman tilted her head as if to say, Ah, but I know....

Father glanced at other titles he passed, finding many other books that had once been in their home. He looked at the old woman walking patiently at his side. But how? he asked her. How did all our books get here?

She motioned for them to sit on a nearby couch. Steven, she asked. How often did you read these books?

Steven didn't look up. He made quiet whirrrrr sounds as he played with the toy plane he pulled out of his pocket.

I thought so, she said. Steven. Look at me.

Steven put the plane on his lap, leaned back against the couch, shoved his hands into his pockets and slowly looked up at the old woman.

Books are like people, she began, gently. If you treat them with kindness, love and take care of them, they will be part of your life as long as you want them. Once you begin to ignore them, once you stop reading them.... She stopped, shrugging her shoulders. Once you start to mistreat them, she resumed, knocking them onto the floor and leaving them there to be trod upon, allowing their pages to be ripped, they will, of course, go somewhere where they will be loved and appreciated.

She rose, stood proudly, looking over the entire library. Your books are all here, she continued. They escaped from your house and came to us. Whenever a book is mistreated, ignored, or abused, it finds its way here or to one of the thousands of other libraries around the country. The books know a library is a safe haven for them. They come here to be safe. They come here to be read!

Father and Steven looked at each other, then back to the old woman as she continued speaking.

First to escape was Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' -- and it arrived almost too late. It told us how badly you were treating all your other books, how you would knock them onto the floor, their pages bent, torn, cracked. We told the other books to come here where they would be appreciated. So they came.

Father, unbelieving, looked to his son, then back to the old woman. But, what about his goldfish book? If the other books wanted to leave, why did that one book remain?

The woman's face moved to form a slight smile. You still do not understand, she said, sitting again on the couch. The old woman extended her hand, took Steven's in hers. Which of your toys was once your favorite? she asked.

My airplanes, Steven said, not quite sure what the correct answer was.

No, Steven. Not the toys you now have. Think back. Which toy was your favorite -- when you were younger?

Steven raised his head, a look of surprise and wonder crossing his face. My goldfish, he said quietly. My stuffed goldfish.

Which your mother threw away when she did her spring cleaning, the woman added.

Steven nodded.

Looking at Father, the woman continued. "When his stuffed goldfish was thrown away, your son was very sad. You bought him lots of toys -- airplanes, fighting men, video games -- trying to cheer him up. But nothing could replace that goldfish. However, when you read to him the story of the goldfish, Steven was able to relive all the happy times he had playing with the toy for hours on end. It was that story which brought his imagination to life.

But you made one mistake, she said, her voice growing quiet. You allowed him to play only with his toys, to neglect his books, all those other wonderful stories. Aside from ambulance sounds and the sounds of bombs dropping, his imagination began to grow weak. And then the books began to come here, one by one: sad, neglected, often damaged, all unloved. They came to be with people who would read them, would imagine with them, who would grow happier with each turn of the page. Here, they found again the love they had once known, the love which had disappeared from your house.

Father looked down, embarrassed. May we take them back? he asked quietly, lifting his head to face her again. May we have another chance, to try again?

Slowly, the woman's eyes closed. She heard what she wanted to hear. She looked at Father and nodded. They have already asked to be allowed to return. They will stay with you as long as you want them.

The woman helped put the books into a large cardboard box. Steven and Father took them home.

In the days that followed, Steven, Mother and Father cleaned, polished and repaired the bookcase until it looked brand new. They replaced the books after cleaning and repairing each one and neatly printing Steven's name on a brand-new bookplate placed inside each book's cover. And every night from then on, all three sat together and read -- sometimes aloud to each other, often silently -- from books old and new.

One afternoon,