Stories from Lone Moon Creek: Meanderings

By Teresa Millias

Push forward, push back, push to the side—one way or another you are going to move with the times. With some occurrences, it is impossible to keep changes at bay, we must go forward. With others, it is possible to side step the alteration ...while other changes push us harshly into the ‘bank of the creek.’ When there, we become the power to alter the path of society, or not.
As in all the volumes of the Lone Moon Creek series, Book Five—Meanderings, pushes hard to maintain a standard of goodness and ethics in the tumultuous stream of relativism and disconnectedness.

The many characters who have entered the pages of this series in the past, and now the characters in Meanderings, bring their stories with them. Somehow they all ‘rub shoulders’ with someone who gives them a little push, or maybe not so little, toward the outer edge of the ‘meandering stream of society,’ to where they have a chance to change their lives. Characters, who were left stranded in previous volumes, often float back into the short story venue to make a significant change in their lifestyle.

Agnes and Marjory continue to stay at the forefront of each story, not for any earth shaking reason, but just to display the continuity of small towns. They have, however, brought along information about themselves for the reader to digest. Have you been putting the pieces of their lives together like a puzzle?

Meander through the stories to discover the new lives of those pushed to the limit. Did they embrace the change of betterment or resign to mediocrity? Did Zoe, the ‘Juvenile Delinquent’ who desecrated the Shrine ever really change? Did Willie from Bushel Basket Lane come to know his parents as ‘caring’? Would Taylor’s BACK SHIRT business become successful when her degrading ex-husband reenters her life? Find out how a grandfather manages to bring out the best in his teenaged grandson when his father couldn’t—or did he? A millionaire slumlord is determined to have his college graduate excel in ‘business’ just like he did. Will Frederick be the next owner of the ‘Rats’ Nest’?

Would you survive being pushed against a ‘water’s edge’ until you changed ...one way or another?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brighton Publishing LLC
• Release date: Oct 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781621834571

Teresa Millias

Teresa Millias was born in Cooperstown, NY and lives in Worcester, NY. She attended the K-12 Central School in Worcester and graduated with eighteen others in her Senior Class.Continuing her education, she received her degree in Elementary Education from SUNY at Oneonta, New York.Teresa taught Kindergarten and First Grade at Worcester CS for twenty-five years developing the love of reading and writing.She has always had a fondness for the arts and has delved into painting, piano education, creativity, garden sculpting, quilting and writing.She says rural life has a kindness and goodness with a touch of mystique which she tries to describe in her stories.

Book preview

Stories from Lone Moon Creek

Book Five: Meanderings

Teresa Millias

Brighton Publishing LLC

435 N. Harris Drive

Mesa, AZ 85203

www.BrightonPublishing.com

ISBN13: 978-1-62183-457-1

Copyright © 2017

eBook

Cover Design: Tom Rodriguez

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. The characters in this book are fictitious and the creation of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to other characters or to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or copyright owner.

Prologue

Why do peoples’ lives meander like a creek? Wouldn’t those lives be more successful, more productive, more beneficial if they remained straightforward? Perhaps—but not necessarily so.

Just as numerous influences command the water’s course to alter, people have influences also which cause a change in direction, however large or small.

As the stories bubble along giving more and more historicity to Lone Moon Creek, the meanderings of its people may be obviously apparent …Or initially, too sublime to notice.

Book Five: Meanderings is a combination of new and continued characters exposing a greater connectedness to the little rural town. The plots become thicker as they swirl along the altered banks of the creek while Agnes and Marjory become more familiar when they command stories of their own.

As the sagas from the first Lone Moon Creek book along with Ripples, Reflections and Splashes wash hard against the banks of the terrain, discover what causes the alteration and its influence on the town.

"Okay, let’s go across the street and pay our insurance bill."

"Why does the sign say Len N. Ray?"

"Because that’s his name."

"I thought it was Lemon Ray."

"Aye yi yi."

Beyond the Sea

Lemon Ray, Lemon Ray, chanted the little bare-bellied boy as he ran kicking the sand. Goo’ morning!

Right back at you, Olee! The big sandal-footed man called out as he dragged his fishing net to the water.

What’s cookin’? Olee drawled his new salutation which he acquired the day before from Pirate Peek.

Not much ‘cookin’ with me, how about with you?

Wal, Olee said as he pushed his cap back from his tanned forehead and scratched his head, all out of cigarettes, you got any?

Don’t tell me you smoke? Lemon Ray inquired as he slung the net into the ocean.

Gunna be startin’ soon.

Smoking is bad for you, you know.

Nah, I don’t think so.

Lemon Ray focused on the movement of the sea knowing what was on the other side while Olee focused on the sea not knowing there was anything past ‘his water.’ Smoking cigarettes didn’t seem like it should be a matter of consternation that morning, Lemon Ray thought.

Into the man’s mind came the sign: Len N. Ray, Insurance, Inc. which gleamed with the new coat of blue and white paint, the sign that once read John N. Ray, Jr., Insurance and John N. Ray, Sr. before that. The same building, the same Main St., and some of the same families were Len’s clients.

Lemon Ray, Lemon Ray, Olee screamed as he pulled on the muscular arm of his friend. Len N. Ray pulled himself out of his memory-blog-stupor and looked at what his little free spirited imp was pointing at.

What do you suppose it is?

Don’t really know, Olee answered as he stood identical to Lemon Ray with his feet apart and hands clasped behind his back.

They watched as some sort of contraption bobbed and swayed, compliant with the motion of the waves. As it neared, Olee let his stoic stance loosen until it jumped and bounced with shouts of, It’s a tree house. Can I have it Lemon Ray?

I don’t see why not, Lemon Ray laughed, just don’t smoke in there.

I won’t, I promise.

The tall man pulled it onto the shore as Olee ran around it first one way and then the other. The little lad jumped and skipped, clapped and hollered. He opened the door and let it bang closed; he put the upper half of his body through the opening, presumably a window and looked back and forth at a few remains of someone’s treasures. What does that say? Olee pointed to a dangling wooden sign.

You tell me.

Who else would a youngster learn to place his hands on his hips and tilt his head to the side but from a school teacher, the former CEO of Ray’s Insurance Co. thought. But apparently he was mistaken.

I can’t do no readin’; I’ve never been to school, the boy said matter-of-factly.

Why not? Lemon Ray persisted as he rocked the house to slosh more of the sea water onto the sand.

No time. I’m busy all day.

Oh, I see.

Len remembered saying those exact same words to his wife when she gave him the ‘third degree’ about the errands he didn’t do. He couldn’t very well reprimand the little island boy when he was guilty of the same excuse.

Well? The question was still on the docket as the ‘school teacher pose’ reappeared.

It says: No Girls Allowed.

What the hell?

Hey, hey, watch your language.

You sound just like my gramma.

Well, ‘grammas’ are like that. Len emitted a cold shiver as he thought of his children’s grandmother.

Why would the sign say, ‘no girls allowed’?

This must have been a club house just for boys and they didn’t want any girls there.

I’m gunna have lots of girls in my club, Olee announced as he tipped the chair and table upright.

What’s going on out here this morning? Pirate Peek hollered, cascading his gravelly voice across the beach.

Got me a new house! Olee returned the holler as he did a shimmy with both arms raised.

Lemon Ray had to laugh to see the contortions the little one could produce.

You got a house, Lemon Ray? Olee quizzed.

Lemon was glad Pirate Peek was close enough to take the spotlight off of his answer.

Peek’s gravelly voice could have peeled the paint from ocean-logged walls, if there had been any. He meandered around the ‘no girls’ hut with grunts and musical scale failures as he scrutinized the amateur construction job.

You going to live here, Olee?

What do you think, Lemon Ray?

How many thousands of times did Len N. Ray give his clients advice about houses in question? Just as his father and grandfather did, Len gave each prospective buyer the very best of his expertise. Now, this little ragamuffin was as serious about an answer as was a client with a half million dollars in his pocket.

It’s going to need some fixing, Lemon Ray began as he started his slow trek around the little-boy-dream. It’ll have to be stabilized and reinforced, maybe a replacement of a section or two, what do you think Peek?

Peek’s drawling out of the word ‘well’ sounded like a low rumble coming up from the depths of the sea, but past that, the raspy voice continued more like the underbelly of Jake Oslow’s tractor. Len once sold insurance to Jake Oslow for his barn and a month later the barn burned to the ground.

Len mulled the fire with Jake Oslow being a suspect but never being able to prove it, while he heard Peek’s words of maybe, might, and could be.

There! We can do it! Olee squealed.

That pure unadulterated joy, that unequivocal trust, that childhood naivety! Lemon Ray’s body jerked out of a near paralysis as he remembered feeling that same innocence from his own children.

Olee grabbed his new friend’s huge hand and shook it wildly while hollering, Let’s get started. Let’s get started.

Who’s going to watch my fishing net?

We’ll watch it with one eye, don’t you worry!

Both men had to laugh at Olee’s exuberance.

There’s no way we can get this up into a Palm tree, you know.

That’s okay, I want it on the ground anyway.

Good. Come on men, let’s pull it further onto the beach so the waves won’t take it back into the ocean.

Yeah, with you in it! Pirate Peek snarled with such a scary leer that Olee instinctively grabbed hold of Lemon Ray’s legs.

Don’t scare him! Lemon Ray hurled a stern directive that the two others had never heard him do.

Olee released his grip now feeling a new sense of safety and Pirate Peek subconsciously put himself into a more humbled slot of humanness.

Lemon Ray wished he had spoken up to his neighbor about scaring his children. His wife constantly asked him to confront their neighbor and each time, Len backed down. How could he confront the most respected man in town; the biggest contributor to every cause in town; the man on the board of every organization in town? What a weasel, hiding behind the shrubs and jumping out to scare little children and hanging dead animals and birds from branches to show the kids. Why couldn’t he march up to that man and speak his peace?

Lemon Ray! Do you think you can fix this door?

The big man looked down into the eyes of Olee and every child in the world reading the same question—Can you help me? That’s all they want, the man reckoned. But did he have time to help his own children with their projects? No.

Oh, yes, Olee. But I’ll need to walk back to town to get some tools, Slayno will have some. Peek, would you mind watching my catch?

Come on, Olee.

***

As the big man and the ‘little man’ walked in silence, Len knew he was thinking more and more about his family. Was it Olee who was stimulating that part of his past? It was as if the numbness was wearing off; he once could go for weeks without looking back; this cropping up of the dark recesses was not welcomed.

Hey, Slayno, can I borrow a hammer and some nails?

Hey, greenback, what are you going to do, nail your net to the sand? Slayno laughed uproariously.

Olee joined the laughter with, That’s a good one, Slayno!

"Yeah, these tourists are not crabacious like us natives, right Olee?"

Len wondered where Slayno got the word ‘crabacious’ and knew Olee would be using it every day now.

Lemon Ray is going to help me fix up my new treehouse, ‘cept we’re keeping it on the ground.

Borrow anything you like, just remember to bring it back when you’re done.

The prospective carpenters left with the tools of the trade.

Shall we go through the market for some lunch, Olee?

"Oh yeah, that sounds crabacious to me!"

Len knew it! He smiled as he rolled his eyes.

***

Hey, hey, you just can’t take that fruit without paying for it!

Yes, I can! She’s my mama.

Oh, sorry, I didn’t know, Lemon Ray said sheepishly.

Olee, what are you doing with those tools, you little monkey.

Me and my friend are building something, he answered as the juice from the fruit dripped from his chin.

Are you bothering him?

No, I’m being good, aren’t I Lemon?

He is, ma’am.

Okay, but if he’s not, you bring him here for a whippin’.

***

Len thought about Olee’s mother as they tracked through the sand. Her child ran free; she worked for a living; she let strangers watch over her child; education was not a high priority; she wanted him to behave. He thought about the mother of his children—in only one way was she in sync with Olee’s mother.

Olee, where is your father?

Len’s question must have come like a thunderbolt out of the sky—it caused the boy to drop the hammer, the oranges and the peppers. The child faced the Sea and pointed, Out there.

***

The two returned to find the grizzly Pirate sleeping on the beach with his straw hat covering his face and the net half full of jumping, diving fish.

Peek, Olee shouted as he shook the man awake, wake up, we got food.

Food? Peek reiterated in his growly, sleazy voice. It only took one second before he bounded to his haunches and sat waiting like a baby owl.

The three beachcombers stared at the water as they ate, the water meaningful to each.

I’ll take the fish back to the market for you, Pirate Peek unexpectedly offered.

You would? That would be appreciated. Take them to Slayno and tell him it’s his payment for the next three nights of renting a room to me. Len remembered some of his clients asking for three days or a week to pay the insurance premium. He couldn’t tell them ‘no.’ His father and grandfather were the same way, they helped their neighbors and trusted them. His wife constantly told him not to continue the practice, You’re going to get stuck real bad someday. Well, he did get stuck more than once and had to pay out of his own pocket.

Lemon Ray! Can we get started on the treehouse?

Oh! Sure.

Crabacious!

***

Olee was there for every nail that went in and every board that had to be ripped out and repaired. Lemon Ray sometimes had to look around the little head because it was in the line of his vision; had to stop hammering to tell Olee to let go of the nail; had to have his little partner step back when the handsaw was almost through a board or to stand aside when he was pounding high over his head.

Why couldn’t he have taken time with his own children—when they wanted a treehouse or a doll house or a snow fort? Why did he work through their childhood? Why did he think his wife could do everything for the children? Was making money more important than their happiness? He must have thought it was.

Ow! Lemon Ray yelled. He had hit his own thumb.

Immediately Olee was there telling him how sorry he was that it happened. The short, little arm snuggled around Lemon’s neck and wee, clucking sounds were chirped into the big man’s ear. How does this little child know how to be compassionate? He must have learned it from someone. Was he home to teach compassion, too? No.

I’m okay, but thank you for caring. What do you think about the building?

Olee stepped back about twenty paces and assessed the treehouse. Len couldn’t help but think how much he looked like himself as he went out to look at a situation whereby someone needed to collect the insurance.

I love it! I love it! Olee squealed loud enough to dispatch a flock of seagulls and diminish his twenty paces by half to nearly leap into the new sanctuary.

Len walked around the miniature building picking up the tools as he listened to the little guy inside singing his heart out. Where did he learn to sing like that? He wondered if Olee’s mother sang to him as a child or maybe it was his father before he went to sea. He tried to think if he ever sang to his children?

Len caught a glimpse of Pirate Peek walking, or more accurately, staggering along the beach.

Woweeee! he screeched.

Somehow or somewhere Peek had lost his low, gravelly bass voice and was now able to sing in a falsetto range. The last of the seagulls departed in fright and Olee ran out of his palace to discover for himself what the wild and wooly sound was.

Peek, where have you been? Lemon asked.

Been to town to take in your fish.

Where else?

Stopped into ‘Hollow Leg’ to talk with McGee.

That’s what I thought. Did you give Slayno my money for the room?

Room? What room?

Never mind.

Come on Olee, I better get you home.

Oh, do I have to?

Yes.

***

Len could tell that Olee was miffed at him; he knew the boy wanted to stay longer at his new treasure place, but look—he could make wise, fatherly decisions! Lemon Ray wanted to lift Olee to the sky and twirl him around, but suddenly, right in front of the little town’s church, Olee fell to his knees.

Olee! What’s the matter? What happened? Lemon went to his knees to discover what Olee had succumbed to. Are you sick? Are you in pain?

Slowly the boy straightened his back and Lemon could see his folded hands. He never looked right or left, only upward. The man watched his lips moving to some words.

What are you doing? Lemon whispered.

Without looking at him, Olee whispered in return, I’m praying.

What are you praying?

I’m praying for my papa and my new tree house and I’m thanking God for you.

And just as quickly as he went down, he was up and running, Gotta go home. See you tomorrow, leaving Lemon Ray still on his knees in front of the church.

Oh, good grief! he said to himself as he quickly lifted, brushing the sand from his knees. Why should I be on my knees? There’s no one up there who is going to acknowledge me anymore. I’m sure he has crossed me off his list.

Lemon hurried off to Slayno’s to work a deal for a room.

***

What’s the matter with you people? Some of you come to our islands dripping with money, and some—like you—come with nothing. Why don’t you have anything?

Pirate Peek was instructed to give you the money from my catch of fish, but he didn’t, he drank the profits.

Another thing! You people are so trusting. Is everyone in your country trusting?

Well, no … Len thought about the barn fire that was probably arson and the snake that was put inside his daughter’s birthday gift from the neighbor and the scores of clients who never paid him back and the man who embezzled from the town’s charity fund blaming him ….. But I can work for you. Do you have a job for me?

Augh, you people. So, why don’t you have any money?

I left it all for my family.

Ah, you have a family, you left your family?

Lemon Ray hadn’t talked about any of this to anyone and now he was spilling his guts, which suddenly made him angry—angry at himself, angry at Slayno and angry at the world.

Forget it, I’ll sleep on the beach, he snarled and bolted for the door.

Hang on, hang on; don’t be so touchy. Everyone on this island has a history, many of them a lot worse than yours. If you want to clean and oil my tools, I can give you a room until you catch more fish.

Len worked way into the night in order to free himself for the open ocean breezes of the morning. As he rubbed and soaked and honed, the whetstone almost burned his hands while his heart nearly ruptured with the new wound of telling Slayno as much as he had. His wife constantly tried to dig for information about the business, about the town happenings, about his feelings. She couldn’t get anything out of him. Suddenly the polishing stopped, the rag dangled lifelessly, the whetstone cooled and Len slumped onto the workbench.

How could I? he asked himself as he saw the first ray of sunshine thrust itself precisely upon the newly sharpened sawblade.

***

Len needed to run—to run like the very devil was after him. The night work almost paralyzed him or maybe it was his conscience fighting with his memories. Whatever it was, he careened along the beach like a blur causing the sandpipers to take pause and perhaps even the ripples of the water to stand at attention.

Olee could tell someone had been on the beach before him; there were huge foot prints in the sand with a wideness of spacing that prohibited even him from jumping from one to the next. He amused himself, however, by doing zig-zag motions in between the steps not veering off until he arrived at his tree-ground-house.

Hey, you old coot, wake up and get out of here!

Humph, Pirate Peek snarled and rolled over on the floor.

This is not your house! the boy said as he stomped his foot.

Suddenly Peek grabbed hold of the boy’s ankle. I’ll cut this right off and throw it into the sea for the sharks!

No you won’t, Olee cried.

No you won’t, is right! Lemon Ray shouted as he came through the open doorway, grabbing Peek by the shirt collar. Out with you and don’t come back.

Yeah, echoed the brave little warrior until he couldn’t hold back his sobbing any longer.

Hey, little guy, it’s okay; he’s all talk; he wouldn’t do anything to you.

He scares me, Olee snuffled his last snuffle into Lemon’s tee shirt.

Come on, let’s go down by the water.

As they slowly walked to the sea, Len now knew how much his family needed him. Olee let the water trickle over his ankles bending over every now and again to touch them. You know what, Lemon Ray? I need my father to come home.

I know you do, Lemon Ray murmured. Let’s walk back to town and get something to eat.

***

What’s the matter, baby? Olee’s mother asked as soon as she saw her son. Len knew that his wife could do that, too.

Oh, nothing, we’re just hungry.

"Here, take all the fruit you want and then you can walk over to Aliega’s stand and get ….

Mama! What’s the matter? Olee trumpeted as he ran to her side. Anna pulled the flounce of her apron over her eyes and sobbed into the orange and yellow island fabric.

I don’t know what we are going to do, son. They are going to take all my business and we’re going to lose everything.

Mama, no, no.

Wait. Can I sit and talk with you Anna? My name is Len N. Ray.

As she wiped a few more tears she said, Oh I know you, you’re Lemon Ray. My Olee likes you, he says you are a good man.

Olee gave Len the ‘thumbs up’ sign.

Tell me what’s wrong, Anna, maybe I can help.

As her head bobbed back and forth, Anna droned, Oh, oh, oh, they are going to take all that we have.

Who is going to take everything?

Those! Olee whispered as he pointed to a group of men walking from vendor to vendor, the muscle men.

The three watched as each owner handed the muscle men an envelope.

Oh, no, they’re coming here next! Anna whispered in fright.

Lemon Ray stood tall and straight as they approached. They were not accustomed to being met by a male. Olee didn’t stand behind his mother today, he stood next to Lemon.

The spokesman tried to ignore the huge one and looked around him to Anna. Where is it?

What are you looking for? the serious Lemon asked.

She knows.

But I don’t, and I’m speaking for her today. Lemon crossed his arms in front of his chest. Olee followed suit.

I’ll be back tomorrow and you better have it, the man spoke with a face contorted much like the inside of a rotting pepper.

Are you paying them money to be here to sell your fruit? Lemon asked after muscle man was out of earshot.

Yes, we all are, she again wept into her apron.

Haven’t you told the police?

We are afraid to.

I’ll see you later Olee. They watched him walk away.

***

Lemon Ray! Where have you been?

I’ve been busy, but I’m back to fishing again.

I’ve missed you, the little fellow said shyly as he paused to pull a tear back into his over-ample reservoir and continued, They came and took the last of mama’s money.

What is she doing now?

She’s going through the town asking for work.

Lemon thought about his wife doing the same thing. She spent days analyzing each position and her conclusion was: I’d rather be a stay-at-home mom. Len agreed with her decision. But now—what is she doing now? Has she gotten a job? Has she gone through all the money he left her? Has she found another man to support her and the children?

Lemon Ray! Olee shouted as he shook his arm. Do you think I could sell my tree house?

Sell your tree house? But you love that place.

I know, but I want to help my mama.

Lemon stared at the boy wondering what planet they were on. Um, don’t be too hasty, Olee. Things might turn around in a week or two.

And turn around they did! The ‘muscle men’ were hauled away and everyone celebrated making it another patron saint’s feast day! Anna ran and hugged Lemon; Olee hugged them both.

The next morning Lemon Ray sat on the shore next to his fishing net. It wasn’t long before ‘his little shadow’ plopped down beside him and said, Life is so good.

Does that mean you’re not going to start smoking?

If you say so.

You know what, Olee?

What’s that?

I think I’m ready to go home now.

You mean back to town?

No, I mean back to my country, to my family, across that water.

Lemon, no, Olee wailed as he clenched his friend’s arm like an eagle hanging tightly to a salmon.

Olee, you have to understand. They must be missing me. I did a bad thing; I left them and now I’m sorry.

What about me? the boy asked as the tears ran the whole gamut of head to toe. Don’t you like me anymore?

Of course I do, you’ll always be in my heart; I’ll never forget you.

He watched the shirt tailed boy run across the sand waiting for the wind to billow him upward into the sky like a kite.

***

This time Lemon Ray stopped in front of the church without Olee. I wouldn’t mind, Sir, if you returned my name to your list.

***

Hello Anna, the contrite man murmured as he sauntered towards the fruit kiosk. You are looking happy!

I am relieved that our village can now work and earn our money without someone else taking it away. Here, sit with me a while, maybe you can help me work on these numbers. I’m trying to save some each month but I can’t figure which things I should pay first.

Len and Anna had their heads together, she writing and adding the columns of numbers while he mentored and explained the results. But the quiet study group was suddenly disrupted when Len’s chair was pulled backwards and a woman was beating at his face.

***

Len, for goodness sake, wake up! You are having a nightmare, his wife mumbled loudly.

Where’s Olee?

Who?

Oo, I guess I was dreaming. You mean I didn’t run away?

Have you lost your mind?

Len put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. You know what, Olee? I’m glad I met you, Lemon Ray thought with a smile.

The End

"Did you know that I can figure out a lot of things?"

"Oh, I know you can, Marjory. What have you figured out now?"

"That animals huddle together to stay warm."

"How did you discover that?"

"I’ve been checking out those ants in the sugar bowl."

"What?"

Snow on the Mountain

Zax sat on the edge of his bed. He looked up at Milt on the top bunk and William on the bottom. They wouldn’t wake until he shouted out to them and shook their mattresses. He was glad they were still asleep, they only ruined the quietness of the morning. Zax thought about the reasons of ‘why’ he liked the solitude so much. His mother was the same way. He knew she was already in the kitchen starting the wood stove and also knew she sometimes tip-toed to not wake anyone. She purposely never let a bowl or pan rattle as she pulled several from the cupboard.

Zax leaned back on his mattress and retrieved his Spanish textbook from the night before. He quickly went through the words that would be on today’s test.

He could hear his sisters whispering across the hall making sure they were quiet and not to let any of their brother’s get into the bathroom first. Zax smiled and shook his head knowing none of his brothers cared if they