Different Coins in the Fountain: Volume I of Ii

By Carlos V. Cornejo

Volume I contains fifty-four stories. Volume II, which is a continuation of Volume I, has forty-two stories. The stories are stand-alone stories; that is, they are independent from each other so that these books can be read in any sequence the reader chooses.
There is no particular reason why they should be read in the way the author sequenced them. The reader can select stories based on the time there is to read one or more stories. The books are designed for busy people who need to escape from the problems of work, family, or self-imposed rituals for governing activities of the day.
Please read these stories to explore and enhance that which is not yet part of your day or evening accomplishments.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491824412

Carlos V. Cornejo

Carlos V. Cornejo is a native of San Francisco, California, and now a resident of Redwood City, California. He is a family man with adult children and growing grandchildren. He is a retired school superintendent from San Francisco's school district. He still retains his love for teaching and interacting with others of all ages. After military service and also traveling much of the world, he now spends his time puttering in the garden, overseeing his small vegetable garden and potted plants. He enjoys reading, movies, and the cultural events that are scheduled in the Bay Area. He loves to write for your amusement and his.

Book preview

CONTENTS

Becket’s Call

Mitchell Reads And Thinks Of The Great Gatsby

Having A Gangster For An Uncle

Sister’s Candor

The Hum

The Beast That Never Left Town

Poko’s Brother

La Bruja

Teodora

Billy’s Detour

Carmen Takes Over

Sustaining A Dream

At Last, Rosita Crowed

Carlitos’s Early Departure

Perfect Picture

The Favor

Grandpa’s Kingdom

And Then There Were Four

Another Take

Subcultures Have Their Ways

Speculations

He Taught Me How To Live

Geez, The Geezer

From The Pulpit

Dancing With Grief

Dimensional Twirls

Rapture Ioi

Jarmillo’s Invisible Harvest

She Sees It!

The Want For A Straight Road

Relationships

Clever Resistance

The Essential Mario

With Italian Flair

Diva Meets Alvarado

Derailed

Look Into My Eyes …

The Appearance Of The Black Sheep

Pressed Roses

With Hands In The Dirt

Sam Jones

The Privilege Of Family

The Hundred-Pound Lizard

The Three Worlds Of The Tarahumaras

When The Tide Is Out

Butting Bear Mchiel

The Fork In The Road

Tito Displays Other Worlds

The Dig

A Talk In The Park

Weary Of The Bestowed

No Need For Shotguns

A Change Of Skin

The Herd Instinct

The Aim To Please

What The Heck!

She Covered Up With Purple

About The Author

About The Book

A D E L A N T E !

To the reader,

These short stories flourish in my mind from time to time, and I just got into the habit of writing them down for others to read.

If I’m not reading a good yarn in a book or seeing a well-directed movie illustrating other persons’ plots, then I feel it’s up to me to amuse myself.

Writing down something—anything—is a more serious endeavor. I highly recommend for you to stay in the best company that exists—all of us who appreciate the color in life.

I hope you can relate to some of what has been written here.

Carlos V. Cornejo

BECKET’S CALL

The two horseback riders rode their steeds through the darkest part of the forest, where the tall trees blocked the light of day. One of the men had a heavy glove upon which perched a hooded peregrine falcon. The lead horseman used his sword to clear the way, hacking away the smaller branches of trees that interfered in their quest to scare out hares for the falcon to kill. The two men were followed by four experienced, battle-veteran, armored guards who retained their distance but who were ready to rescue their royal charge in case of some unexpected happening.

The lead horseman stopped his horse and turned to his companion. Sire, look; there’s a hovel in which creatures abide. The dwellers have stinking pigs penned at the door of that dilapidated shelter.

Both horsemen dismounted and entered the stinking hovel. In the corner, three human creatures huddled in fright.

We mean no harm to you, voiced Thomas, so come here and fetch us water to drink.

Out stepped on old hag and a toothless male, leaving the younger creature in the corner. However, she, too, was ordered to step forth and present herself. To the surprise of both intruders, a wild-eyed female teenager, ill-smelling and in dirty rags, appeared before them.

Look, Thomas, she’s a beauty. How can these monsters have created such a sensuous female?

You are right, Sire, Thomas evoked. Now, let’s go.

No, no. Can’t you see with a good scrubbing with solid lard and lye, she will be my wench for this evening?

That’s a bad idea, My Prince. She is cursed with the evils of this dark place, and there are better pickings outside of the castle, so let’s go home.

No, the king answered, and called the guards to take her to his chief servant at the castle in charge of all other women servants.

Instruct her to give this mushroom a bath and to disinfect her hair.

He also admonished the guards that should anything negative happen to Mushroom on the way to the castle, he would personally take command of the consequences to be imposed. Thomas was not favorable or happy about the situation and thought it best to attempt to intervene at a more appropriate time.

At the castle, Miranda, the chief person in charge of female servants, presented Mushroom in a clean state and with her hair brushed and bound with ribbons. Mushroom appeared to be only about fourteen or fifteen years old and a ravishing beauty for her age. Miranda said she ate like an animal, and it took about six other women to get her into and take her out of the bathwater. She was a protesting feline and managed to leave everyone bruised who engaged in her clean-up.

When Mushroom was brought to the great dining room that seated the rulers of the realm, the drunken noisemakers all quieted down to eye the child that was going to be bedded in the king’s chambers that evening. In minutes, they returned to their lead wine goblets. Before the festivities were over, those present lifted their goblets in merriment for their Norman king and Mushroom. Thomas, who was a regular advisor and confidant to King Henry, finally made his pitch that he could not make in front of guards or in her forest hovel.

My Prince, I beg you not to deflower this child.

Oh, Thomas, do you want her for yourself? the king asked.

His reply was Yes.

All right, Thomas, but you must promise to pay in kind when I request the same from you. Is that a deal? Do you agree?

Thomas was trapped, and he had to respond affirmatively. Thomas had some friends among the guards, and that evening, he had them secretly return Mushroom to her family’s decrepit forest dwelling.

The next day was uneventful, and Thomas didn’t see the king, who was busy with political undertakings. However, the following day, Thomas was informed by one of his trusted guards that Mushroom was standing in the courtyard seeking his audience. As unbelievable a development as this was, Thomas asked the guard to bring her up to his suite. Mushroom was still in her newer clothes and semi-combed hair, but her hair ribbons were in a disheveled state due to traveling through the forest.

Why are you here? I told you to go back to the forest. You cannot be here. You are in danger; get out and stay out, Thomas reprimanded.

I want to be here. You have food, and I like being clean, although I want to clean myself and not have all those strangers paw me and put me in the cold water, replied Mushroom.

Stop! Listen to me, child. I’m giving you some gold coins so that you can buy your own food somewhere in the front of this castle. Here, take this money and use it to buy food. Now, leave and don’t come back or I will see to it that you are spanked until you cannot sit!

Things seemed to work out in that Mushroom was now out of sight and out of mind.

What took Thomas’s mind away from the need to be with his king was his love for Maid Edwina. He was constantly thinking of Edwina, the beauty that was an Erin import who was brought to the castle in order to instruct the queen and her mother on designing floral bouquets and in needlepoint creations. Edwina was refined and liked to laugh and understood how to be respectful and charming at the same time. Thomas often spent the night with Edwina, and it was expected that someday they would officially be betrothed.

One night, the king was awakened by one of his ministers to tell him that a priest was conducting acts of treason in an overt manner, and it was recommended that appropriate action be immediately taken. The king went out to look for Thomas and couldn’t find him in his suite and guessed correctly where he was. No doubt he was with Edwina. The king slammed into Edwina’s door. He confirmed what he suspected. The whole thing was put aside to deal with the problem at hand.

After the problem was dispatched, the king went to Thomas and reminded him of the deal between them—payment in kind. Thomas objected, but he was late in his regret. His word was what he possessed. His reputation for honesty and trustworthiness was all he had to recommend him in life.

How to tell Edwina that she was going to go from her relationship with himself and go to the bed of the king who basically just wanted to exert his authority and power over everyone, including him and Edwina? Edwina couldn’t believe her new predicament. She went to Thomas and angrily demanded answers.

You say you must keep your word at all times. Is that so? If the king wanted to bed your sister, would you let him? Answer me!

Thomas unbelievably stated his answer, a reluctant Yes.

Would you let him bed your mother? Would you let him bed you? Edwina yelled.

Thomas had no answer, and that was the worst of all answers. Edwina ran from the room in hysterics.

That evening, when the king went to get Edwina, he found that no one knew where she was. Hours later, they found her broken body at the foot of the high castle wall.

Edwina was alive, but her legs were gone forever. There was no telling what she once looked like, or if she would ever laugh again. She certainly was a terrible sight, because her spine was damaged, and now she was broken in her bones and in her spirit.

When the king was informed of the attempted suicide and the result inflicted by her jump from the castle wall, he asked, What have I done?

Thomas, of course, confessed his sins to the church but learned too late that his answers to Edwina were out of order and cowardly. With time, Edwina was able to survive, but never was she able to recover.

Thomas took her to the forest and placed her with Mushroom and her family. He had a log shelter built for the family of four. He made certain that they always had food and medicine to help them remain apart from the corrupt world of the castle.

Epilogue

The passage of time allowed Mushroom to make her decision. With her new abode and sufficient food all year around, she decided to continue as a single woman in the forest.

While Edwina was not happy, she was well cared for by Mushroom, who saw it as important to care for Edwina with kindness, so she could live well and in safety.

While the two were left without the bad habits of the elders now buried in the forest, they survived with separate mutual routines. Edwina sewed, did needlepoint, and made clothes. Mushroom took care of the chickens, cooked, and chopped wood.

Neither talked or discussed King Henry II or Thomas Becket.

MITCHELL READS AND THINKS

OF THE GREAT GATSBY

No one who had known Mitchell Blake as a teenager would have predicted the great change that he made of himself. He was a reader of books but also a kid displaying little interest in anything. He lived in his T-shirts, shorts, and Nike sports shoes. He didn’t bother to put on socks or to get a haircut often.

The change came when he first read F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby. Later, he saw the movie and loved The Great Gatsby.

When both his parents were killed in an automobile accident and the insurance companies awarded twenty-one-year-old Mitchell over three million dollars, Mitchell focused on who he wished to become. He acquired a 1953 Austin Healy in mint condition. He purchased a nice home in Newport, Connecticut. His French-door closets displayed his numerous khaki trousers, oxford-cloth faded blue shirts, and shiny brown shoes of all kinds.

He was not at the economic level of The Great Gatsby, but he had hopes that his promising technology stocks would make great profits and allow him to host a few parties.

In the winter days, there was little to do at Newport, so he loaded two garment bags into his Austin Healy and was off to the nearby big city.

Once he arrived there, he checked into the penthouse suite of a four-star hotel and ate his only hot meal of the day because he still had a few hours of daylight left. He decided to take a long walk.

As he walked, he saw one of the lighted buildings and entered because it was a library. He found the place nearly empty. A young woman librarian was behind the main checkout counter. She was not like any librarian he had formerly known. She was the kind of woman he would expect to see modeling at an automobile show. She could have been very distracting as such, selling expensive cars.

He went to the shelf area and looked at the medical books. He found a section that contained fictional and nonfictional novels about physicians and their families. Mitch decided he would read Madame Curie’s biography written by her own daughter, Irene. He took the book to the checkout counter with the idea of checking it out to read at his hotel. The librarian asked him for his library card. He smiled at her and said he had proper identification, and asked if she could issue him a card.

She examined his driver’s license and asked, Are you a student or are you a physician or a professor?

Why, of course, I have been a student now for eleven years.

Are you an enrolled student, Mr. Blake?

No, I’m not. I just wish to borrow this book for a few days.

I’m sorry, but this library is not for the general public. As you may have noticed, it is part of the college campus.

I see by your nametag that your name is Hazel. Hazel, this book is a book that can be found in most libraries. It is not a rare book. Surely, you can make an exception if I tell you where I am staying and can provide you with my fingerprints or anything to identify me. Besides, don’t you know that your rules need changing? If someone like me wants to read what is not being read, then it should be your job to facilitate and encourage the reading of your books. I’m a great candidate for you to help and increase circulation.

Mr. Blake …

Please, call me Mitch.

Okay, Mitch. I do not make the regulations for who is eligible to use this library. That is done by the head librarian and other members of the faculty.

Come, come, Hazel. Who is going to know that you broke a silly rule to help out a stranger in town who needed to find some enjoyment in the written words of a great author?

Mitch, please do not be persistent. I cannot help you. If you leave now, you might be in time to get your book at the public library. However, my understanding is that since you are a resident of another state, you may need to be cleared, and that might take additional time.

Hazel, may I read this book here?

Of course.

What time of day do you come to work?

You can read the book at any time. The day librarians will allow you to read here.

Hazel, what time do you report to work?

Mitchell, enough is enough. I’m working when my shift starts, and that is not for me to tell you. So, go away.

The next day, Mitchell was there when Hazel arrived at three in the afternoon. He couldn’t wait to look at Hazel’s very large eyes—the kind of eyes he had seen on great animals, such as seals and Jersey cows.

When Hazel saw him, she just ignored him and quickly moved behind the checkout counter.

Mitchell walked up to Hazel and asked her for the location of the novel he had the previous evening.

It is in the reshelf cart. I’ll get it for you.

She handed him the Madame Curie book and made herself busy reviewing something on her computer. Mitchell went to a table and sat down to read the book. After an hour or so, he stepped out to the indoor lobby to buy a Coke. He went into the library with the Coke can in hand. Immediately, he knew he had broken another of the library’s regulations, because she was out from behind the counter and approaching him. She seemed exasperated, so he ran back to the lobby before she could say a word. The way he took his quick exit from the library made Hazel quietly laugh to herself.

When Mitchell did not return right away, she peeked into the lobby, and he was not there. When he didn’t return in about an hour, she closed his book and, once again, placed it in the reshelf cart.

In about an hour and a half, Mitchell returned with a bouquet of flowers and a clear plastic box with a carnation to be pinned on the lapel of her blouse.

Hazel shook her head. No, no. This sort of thing is not allowed.

Hazel, you can’t be serious. I am certain your library regulations for my giving you flowers do not exist.

Mitch, please—I am working here because I need the money. You’ll get me fired if the head librarian sees these flowers here.

Don’t be silly. I’ll buy her a bouquet, too. You’ll see. Anyway, a beautiful lady like yourself has to be around flowers. After all, Hazel, you are not just a librarian. You are the most beautiful girl in this entire state. Now, let me read my book. Where the heck did you put it now? Don’t tell me you thought I was going to leave when you don’t close until nine o’clock?

Mitchell, read your book. I’ll put the flowers in the back room to be on the safe side.

At nine o’clock, Hazel announced that the library was closing. You must leave, she told him.

He was about finished reading the book. But he said, Please don’t put it away. I just put a bookmark in it, and you can give it to me when I come back tomorrow.

She placed the book on the counter because she had to close up and lock the doors of the library. When she left, she carried her flowers. Mitch was in the lobby waiting for her.

She said, Oh, no …

You’ll need a ride because you cannot possibly carry those flowers very far.

His Austin Healy was already in the white zone at the bottom of the library steps.

Mitch, I’m telling you now that if you take me home, you cannot come up. Okay?

Of course, Hazel. I have to go home myself and have my scotch and then listen to a CD or two before I sleep. Do you like Big Band music?

Mitch, I shouldn’t tell you this, but I teach early-morning dance classes and Jazzercise.

Really? Oh, you do need your sleep. Are there any men in your class?

Only when there is an occasional party scheduled on a weekend evening.

I would love to be at one of your evenings, but only if I can dance every dance with you.

By then, they were in front of her apartment building. He helped her out of the Healy, and she ran up the stairs and disappeared without turning around to wave. His thrown kiss was unseen.

When Hazel arrived at her apartment, she undressed and fed her Siamese fighting fish. She made her hot herbal tea and then arranged her flowers. She pinned her carnation on her pajamas and looked into the full-length bedroom mirror. She carefully unpinned the carnation and placed it in her refrigerator in a wet paper towel. She knew Mitch was attracted to her, and why he spent an entire day at the library.

She reviewed the ride home in his elegant convertible. She had never been in such an automobile, much less listen to Ravel’s Bolero in the background as they conversed about her second job.

Just before she jumped into bed, she went to her computer and pulled up a review of Irene Curie’s account of her mother, Mme. Marie Curie (born Sklodowska).

The next day, Mitch was not there when she reported to work. She was annoyed because she had selected the best casual green dress she possessed. She wore her high heels, and that in itself changed her from librarian to Wow!

At four o’clock, Mitch was there. His book was ready with the bookmark. The book was open at the place he left off reading. The table had a sign that read Reserved. Mitch noted the invitation for him to be there, and he was intelligent enough to know that if he needed to take a book home from the library, Hazel would now break the rules to accommodate his request. However, he was not interested in any library books. There were bookstores that carried most books that were still in print.

What took Mitchell’s attention were the dress, carnation, high heels, and the lady who wore them. Her hair was down at her shoulders, and Mitch consciously disciplined himself to zap his idea of leaning over the checkout counter, stretching his body, and giving her a peck on one of her gorgeous cheeks.

He sat down to read the rest of the book. Although he finished it, he was basically killing time. How much time before it would be 9:00 p.m.? When it was time to lock up the doors of the library, the Austin Healy was at the curve.

Hazel, who was dressed in one of her best outfits and even wore earrings and a necklace, pretended to be surprised. But both of them were looking forward to a ride under warm, darkened skies. Mitchell, without asking Hazel a question, gave his car to the hotel valet to be parked.

What are we doing here? Are you out of your mind?

Hazel, we’re going to have a bite to eat, and hopefully we can have a glass of champagne with our snacks.

Where are we having these? The hotel dining room is still open. I hope you didn’t think …

They entered the dining room, and the service was most prompt because everyone had the word that Mr. Blake had made reservations and wanted everything to be wonderful. Mitchell ordered a bottle of elegant champagne. The band was still playing, and Mitchell asked Hazel to dance the slow dance that had just started playing. On the dance floor, Hazel was in her element. But much to her surprise, Mitch was an accomplished partner. They danced to a potpourri of popular music. When they returned to the table, they drank more champagne and spoke to each other in quiet tones.

They were extremely happy, and Hazel began to become more trusting and allowed herself to be charming and appreciate the wonderful time she was having. The music stopped at midnight, and they departed the hotel.

When the Austin Healy stopped at the front door to her apartment, Hazel told Mitch that on Saturday, her dance studio staff was going to gather with all the couples who could attend the dance and exercise classes. Would Mitch like to be her escort? He was pleased to accept and wondered to himself whether there was a dress code. Did he need to go to Brooks Brothers and buy the proper attire for the dance? He only asked these questions of himself in order to keep his mind busy. He knew that he was very presentable in whatever was in his closet at the hotel. The question he avoided was this: was he falling in love?

The time to go to the gym studio came, and he arrived with a white carnation for his beautiful dance partner. The dance was more like a small-town affair than an orchestrated dance program in a sophisticated big city. A single disc jockey handled the music selections.

When Hazel and he walked into the roped-off dance floor, many eyes in the crowd were directed at the couple demonstrating how rhythm worked well for them. The evening proved to give the kind of happiness of togetherness that would keep both Hazel and Mitchell awake long after going to their respective beds.

On Sunday, Mitchell called Hazel and asked if she would like to take a ride to Newport. Hazel dressed in a white, starched shirt tucked into a pair of beige shorts. Hazel had her hair in a ponytail, which somehow accentuated her shapely, long, athletic legs. She flattered Mitchell by telling him how handsome he looked.

Mitchell took Hazel directly to his quay and slip at the marina where his sailboat was moored. Hazel was given some instructions for being safe and how to put on her lifejacket. Once on their way, the unique experience of sailing by wind on the water gave her inner vibrancy that she felt throughout her body.

Mitchell’s fixation on Hazel was that he knew she would be Mrs. Blake in fast time. When they arrived back to the boat slip, the boat was handed over to the young man who worked under the direction of the harbor master. His job was to ensure full care of keeping the boat well provisioned and ready to sail.

Before taking Hazel to her apartment, there was only time for supper at a great waterfront restaurant specializing in food from the sea. This time when he took her home, Mitchell didn’t allow her to run upstairs and disappear. He embraced her and gave her a very passionate kiss. His great surprise was that she responded with exuberant passion.

She was about to invite him to her apartment to support her passionate desires. At an enlightened digression, she freed herself from his arms, opened the apartment door, and disappeared. As an afterthought, she questioned her thinking as ridiculous for running away from herself. Once in her apartment, she no longer was the lady who was kissed at the top of the stairs because, surrounded by the familiar, dull apartment walls, she slowly reverted to the person who lived there, with little distraction.

Mitch went back to the hotel. Breathing deeply, he knew the day had ended with a soaring new relationship that could not have been predicted just days ago.

At three o’clock the next day, he was sitting at his table without the reserve sign, and an old man was looking up many things in a large-print copy of Gray’s Anatomy. When Hazel appeared, she blushed at seeing him at the reading room table. On the table in front of Mitchell were a couple of books. He had read King’s Row by Henry Bellamann, discarded a copy of Green Dolphin Street, and started reading Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak. He had seen the movie and had persuaded himself that he needed to read that modern classic.

Again, Hazel looked terrific. She was still interested in dressing up to work in the library. Mitch had a couple of box lunches on the chair next to him and asked if they could have a bite together. It was against the rules to eat in the library, so Hazel motioned him to the back room normally used to do all the work by clerks who worked up until 1:00 p.m. With no one around, they opened their lunch boxes and took some bites from turkey-avocado sandwiches. Occasionally the bell on the checkout counter rang, and Hazel responded to the call to check out books.

Mitchell liked being in the back room. It was very private, and he took the chance every now and then to kiss Hazel in a much less passionate manner than what occurred on the previous evening.

Against the rules that were so important before, at the end of the day, Mitchell requested to take home Doctor Zhivago, and Hazel okayed his taking the book out of the library.

That evening, Hazel invited Mitch to her apartment. She asked him to join her for a nightcap. Mitchell had to repark his car and entered Hazel’s neat, well-kept rooms, which had no distinguishing accoutrements. The furnishings were chosen for functionality and color scheme. It was not what Mitchell had in any of his surroundings when at home or traveling.

In his shirt pocket, he had an engagement ring. In his mind, the apartment was not the proper setting to have her put it on her finger. They talked about everything, including the movie performance of Omar Sharif, Geraldine Chaplin, Julie Christie, and Alec Guinness in Doctor Zhivago.

Mitchell wanted to explain his fondness for the character of the novel, The Great Gatsby. Perhaps this was too intimate a discussion, because he was another person prior to being mesmerized by the way Gatsby viewed his world. He was not certain that the time was proper to divulge that, on finishing that classic novel, he decided to follow a completely different path for his life.

The death of his parents and the money that resulted from the auto accident fated him to be a disciple for pursuing a debonair way to live and have purpose about how he accomplished his marital and fiscal ambitions. He also knew instinctively that Hazel was in every way better than Daisy. Daisy was the woman Gatsby built his world for so he could marry and live a magical and luxurious life. Hazel was a better being than Daisy. Hazel was without the complications that Daisy posed for Gatsby. Hazel was the very best of the best.

What was the proper setting to present the engagement ring? To Mitchell, the right steps and setting were ever so important. After all, this sort of happening would be remembered forever in their lifetimes.

The most enjoyable of all their days together was the day spent on his sailboat. The idea began to enlarge itself. The where and the how to ask Hazel to marry him surfaced. Mitchell could hardly wait for the weekend to arrive so that he could get Hazel to sail once again in the waters off Newport.

Early Saturday, Hazel, again in shorts and starched shirt and sport shoes, had her long, shapely legs glistening with sunscreen. Mitchell loaded a cooler with beer, sandwiches, and fruit. They would chance the winds because it was blowing enough that he put the bracelets that prevented sea sickness on Hazel’s wrists.

After about three hours of sailing on choppy waters, Mitchell decided to make the turn to get them back to where he kept his boat. Turning the boat around resulted in excessive bumps on the white-capped water. Hazel screamed as she landed in a prone position and was sliding toward the guide wires. Mitchell quickly responded, leaving the helm and rescuing her.

Returning her to safety, he then hurried back to the helm. Before he reached the helm, a strong gust of wind punched the sail broadside. The boom became loose and violently swung toward Mitchell. The force of the boom was such that when it hit him, his right shoulder made a cracking sound. His collarbone and right arm bones were shattered. He was banged off the boat and only had time to see the boat distancing itself from where he had landed. Was this the ugly end for him? Was he to die in the water like Gatsby? How was it that he never asked Hazel to share their lives? Did he measure up to Gatsby?

Mitchell valiantly attempted to stay afloat, but the size of the whitecaps together with his not being able to use his right arm made it impossible. He swallowed water and no longer was able to see his sailboat. Was Hazel going to be the survivor that Daisy was? Would she ever marry someone else? How he hated the end. At least Gatsby never knew what killed him.

Mitchell’s body was recovered, and Hazel was taken to the hospital. The police two days later gave Hazel a bag with Mitchell’s possessions. She opened the jewelry box and saw the engagement ring. Her heart almost failed. The rest of the contents in the bag were his car keys, his wallet with cards and money, and a ticket stub she had given him for her dance party weeks before. It was the ticket for the dance in which they danced every dance together.

Hazel returned to the library. She was in the dressed-down clothes she normally wore to the library. She had acquired from the backseat of the Austin Healy the Doctor Zhivago book.

This book was never to be returned to the library. It was to be kept illegally by her bedside. All else of her times with Mitchell were fixed in her memory.

HAVING A GANGSTER

FOR AN UNCLE

Antonio and Giovanni left Palermo seven years ago. They both took construction jobs as welders during the building of the New York skyline in the twenties.

During the time they worked in New York, both of them lived in the same apartment. Things changed when Giovanni’s uncle learned from a friend that a young lady in her mid-twenties wanted to immigrate to America and to marry a nice Italian man. Giovanni took his opportunity and sent the money for her to sail to America.

When Genoveva arrived at Ellis Island, it seemed like there was chaos on a greater scale than in her native Sicily. She thought she had brought all the right papers but found out that more papers were needed. After a brief stay at Ellis Island, she was on a boat for a short ride to New York, the city she could see from her island stop. Genoveva was able to be documented with the name that was her own. Many other persons were documented with new names because the process for allowing them into America was very hurried and rushed.

Like many others, she pinned her name card to her lapel to be ready to be identified by Giovanni. She was on the list of arrivals