A Dove for Eddy

By Sherry Elliott

A Dove for Eddy has received honorable mention
in The Write Helper's 4th Annual Novel Beginnings 1st Chapter Contest 2011.

The author has designated a portion of the proceeds from the sale of A Dove for Eddy to Samaritan's Purse; a nondenominational evangelical Christian organization providing spiritual and physical aid to hurting people around the world.

Twelve-year old Karen is battling Cancer. Her parents have divorced, and her father has been transferred back to Chicago leaving their small family all alone in downtown St. Louis. The mounting medical bills have forced her parents to work long hours leaving Karen’s younger brother, Porter, as Karen’s only care giver. Karen wishes that they had a normal, uncomplicated life, but since she cannot change the circumstances, she takes on the task of finding someone who will help her struggling family. She reaches out for assistance, but in her high crime neighborhood, this is not an easy task. After carefully observing her neighbors, Karen reaches out to Mrs. McGrath (Eddy) who she has deemed as their only trustworthy neighbor. However, Eddy is an elderly recluse, with her own unique set of problems including paranoia and a germ phobia. Karen soon discovers that Eddy is not so easily persuaded to venture from the safety of her home. A Dove for Eddy follows Karen, Porter, and Eddy's healing journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sherry Elliott
• Release date: Jul 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465985170

Sherry Elliott

I have always enjoyed writing and art, but my career choice was Nursing. I worked over 20 years as a registered nurse, primarily in the Intensive Care Unit and in Oncology. When I retired from Nursing I was able to focus on other interests. I discovered that I still loved the arts, and I wanted to better learn the craft of writing. I completed a course of study through Long Ridge Writer’s Institute under the tutelage of Edgar Award winning author Carolyn Wheat, as well as several other published writers, I began to write stories that readers enjoyed. Additionally, my nursing experience has helped me to create realistic medical scenes and to add authenticity to the character's voices. I found myself doing some illustrations for my writings, and with some encouragement from my local church, I took some art classes. After several years of part-time study, I was able to obtain a degree in Illustration through the Academy of Art Institute in San Francisco. As one wise person once said; “Risk more than others think is safe. Care more than others think is wise. Dream more than others think is practical. Expect more than others think is possible.” — Unknown I hope you enjoy, A Dove for Eddy on Smashwords. Please check out my other books, Never Brush A Snake's Teeth, Turtle and Duck Find Joy, and The Great Veiled Pearl, available at Amazon and many on-line book stores.

Book preview

A Dove for Eddy

Published by Sherry Elliott

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 Sherry Elliott

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Chapter 1

The screech of the faulty doorbell sounded throughout the house. Eddy trembled, her knees wobbling beneath her. It’s not Friday. Joe always delivered her groceries on Friday, and he always used the backdoor. Eddy peered over her crooked shoulder at the entryway. The door seemed so far away. Who else could it be?

Hey la-la-ady, Are you in th- there? Some unknown, prepubescent voice stammered from beyond the door.

She smoothed her soiled duster and set her shuffle steps cautiously. Better not be those pesky kids again, she mumbled, as she ran her hands over her fuzzy, gray hair. Who is it? she barked from behind the triple latched barricade. There was no answer. She licked the tip of her nicotine-stained thumb and cleaned the peephole. Balancing on her tiptoes, she looked out.

She saw the back of a boy running across the street. Darn kids, she yelled. Think its funny bothering old people? Then she noticed a piece of paper on the floor below the mail slot. Oh, so now they are sending me hate mail. Why can’t they leave an old lady in peace? She walked around the paper, eyeing it cautiously, and then she ground her foot down on it as if she were putting out a cigarette. Crossing her arms over her chest she said defiantly, I’m not reading it. The yellow tabby cat looked up at her and meowed. She placed her left hand on her hip and then leaned over to address the cat, Worthless, half-blind old cat! The cat rubbed up against her leg. I should’ve got a guard dog instead of a cat. He would have scared off them no-goods. She pointed her finger in accusation, Why you’d let anybody in here, wouldn’t you? The cat purred loudly as she rubbed up against Eddy’s leg.

Fifty-two years, she sighed. Why did he have to leave anyway? Eddy and the cat had the place to themselves since her husband, Fred, had passed away ten years earlier. If he had listened to me instead of that crazy doctor he’d still be alive, but no. Did he ever take my advice about anything? She stomped her foot, No and now I have to manage this place all by myself! The words like tinder ignited her smoldering anger and sense of hopelessness. If you were here right now Fred, I wouldn’t talk to you, until you apologized for causing me all this grief.

Abandoned houses with plywood windows stood like mute witnesses of the once thriving community. The remaining occupied homes were reinforced with barred windows and gated fences, and her house was no exception. Time had picked at the mortar and pulled on the gutters of their 1950’s bungalow. Crumbling plaster bled onto the hardwood floors in the living room. A leaky faucet wept in the bathroom, and the metal bars on the front window were one bolt short of being secure. Still, the house held good memories. Sometimes the memories seemed so real to her that it was as if Fred was just in the other room and would walk in and join her at any minute. She knew his voice as well as her own, and sometimes she could still hear him. Eddy, he would say. The Lord gave us each other, and that’s good enough, but I sure wish he would have seen fit to bless us with children.

How she wished she could have given him children, but the doctors had said that was impossible, and they had been right. Why could those loose, ungodly women spit out babies like watermelon seeds? But,I prayed so hard for so long for children, and He never answered. I don’t know if He even cares about common people. She shook her head in annoyance. Snap out of it, old girl, she said. Once again, she had been lured by his sweet memory and walked down that familiar road of regret.

She swiped her eyes and scratched her head Now what was I fixing to do? Oh, that darn piece of paper. I got to have me a smoke first. She retrieved an unfiltered cigarette and slid it under her nose, inhaling the smell of the cigarette, assuring its quality before lighting up. She flipped the lid of the Zippo lighter; it still produced a tall blue flame, even though the engraving had long since worn smooth.

These young kids think they’re smoking cigarettes, but they’re smoking a bunch of chemicals. Got to roll your own if you want to have a decent smoke. Eddy took a long drag and tilted her head up to blow the smoke toward the ceiling, like the sophisticated ladies used to do. Smooth as grandma’s silk hankie.

She cranked the handle of the hand-operated cigarette roller. Except for a few squeaks it was still in good working order. Before they had sold the business, Fred had managed to retrieve the roller from the convenience store they had owned in downtown St. Louis. Known as Fast Freddy’s to the locals, they sold everything from nuts and bolts to diapers. They even had an impressive imported tobacco selection, for those with more discriminating taste. We were nice to everybody, even those snooty country club types. Eddy imitated Doctor Viviane’s wife’s thick New York accent. James would just lawve some of those cigeahs from Cubeah, and that French cawfee. She never said hello or goodbye, just stated her business and hung up, which really irked Eddy. The good doctor’s wife expected Fred to personally deliver her order, and of course, Fred always bent over backwards to please all of the customers. So, no matter how busy his day was, he found time to deliver Mrs. Viviane’s order. I wonder where she’s getting her cigeahs from now. Ha!

Eddy paced back and forth as she talked to herself. We made a bundle on imports, until that ten-acre bargain basement moved to town and under-priced us on every item in the store. She shrugged her shoulders. Our imports couldn’t even keep the doors open. Shaking her head, she snarled, They sold those lousy cigarettes. Then she spit out the loose tobacco fragments and wiped them from her lips with the back of her hand. You won’t catch me darkening the door of that place, no sir-eh-bob.

Looking at the folded letter on the floor, she talked to herself. I guess there won’t be any harm in looking at it. Never know. It could be a letter from the Prize Patrol telling me I won the sweepstakes. But if they do come over, I’d need to put on a nice dress, since I’d be on television. I’d wear the red one Fred got me on my fortieth birthday. I bet I could still wear it. She looked down at her figure and