The Twists and Turns of Stitch Spenser

By Fiona Rose

Stitch Spenser is a young thirty-something Aerospace Engineer working for the United States Government in Boston, Massachusetts. He's so fed up and tired with his job and the nasty east coast weather that he quits his job and moved west to start a new life where he met Tailor Winn, the girl of his dreams. As he fell in love with her, his life spiraled out of control turning deadly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365382635

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The Twists and Turns of Stitch Spenser

The Twists and Turns of Stitch Spenser

Copyright

Copyright © 2016 by Fiona Rose

All rights reserved.  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing:  2016

IBSN 978-1-365-38263-5

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Stitch Spenser is a young thirty-something Aerospace Engineer working for the United States Government in Boston, Massachusetts.  He’s so fed up and tired with his job and the nasty east coast weather that he quits his job and moved west to start a new life where he met Tailor Winn, the girl of his dreams.  As he fell in love with her, his life spiraled out of control turning deadly.

Prologue

In retrospect Stitch Spenser wished he never met Tailor Winn.  Even though they talked about making a baby, she sucked the joy out of his life.  Before and during their eighteen months together he had an energetic attitude for life and for the people around him.  Every day he enjoyed getting out of bed and after their relationship ended he could care less if he ever got out of bed. 

Infatuated love for her took over his life.  Disturbing thoughts and fantasies about her had gotten to the point where he still desired a relationship with her even though she wanted nothing to do with him.  He went out of his way to see her where ever she was and when he didn’t see her self-doubt crept into his head leading to trembling, confusion, insomnia and passing out.  These physical affects led to feeling isolated, abandonment with suicidal thoughts.

But who’s to blame for the way he felt about life?  Obviously, it takes two to tango.  Both parties in any relationship are to blame and for a relationship to work there must be effective communication.  If one party in the relationship doesn’t address the problems and simply ignores them it will lead to horrible physical and psychological effects and there will just be one loser in the relationship.

Chapter 1

Getting Out of Dodge

Knock, knock.  Come in, the balding pencil necked geek sitting behind the big oak desk said.

Damn boss! Stitch Spenser snarled entering the room.  I’ve worked here more than five years!  I’ve had many great ideas to improve this multi fuel vehicle project office!

Frank Drackman looked up from his mound of paper and rolled his eyes.  Hold it right there!

No, I’m not going to stay silent anymore! Stitch shouted.  My ideas have fallen on deaf ears!  I feel like I’m spinning my wheels getting nowhere!  The budget cuts and sequestration are killing me!  I’ve had enough!

So, what are you going to do? Frank demanded.

Well, I’m going to decline your low ball offer raise of two thousand dollars! Stitch threatened.  I’m going to get in my car and head west!  How do you feel about that?!

Ah, Frank mumbled.

Don’t worry boss, you don’t have to answer that!  I quit!

I’m sorry you feel that way.  You’re one of our best workers.  Can I do something to make you stay? Frank pleaded.

Stitch sighed.  No sir, nothing you say can make me change my mind.

***

Thirty-six year old Stitch Spenser is a very fit, handsome, green-eyed six foot strapping lad.  On a cold January 2010 day he hastily walked out of his bosses office slammed the door, got in his 2009 Volvo S60 and sped off for home fishtailing on the slippery icy Boston roads.

Damn! Stitch yelled.  I’m sick and tired of the cold weather in Boston.

As he turned the corner to his fourth floor plush high rise apartment building he couldn’t believe his eyes because some idiot removed his lawn chair reserving his parking spot.

They’ve got the nerve to deliberately park their car in my spot! Stitch screamed.  I’ll teach them.

Not able to find another free parking spot he parked in a pay-as-you-go lot feeding the meter five bucks.  As he walked to his apartment passing the asshole’s Lexus, he keyed it gouging a three foot scratch on the driver’s door.

Stitch laughed out loud.  That will teach that son-of-a-bitch to park in my spot!  Doesn’t the bastard know it took me hours to shovel it out?!

Feeling satisfied for keying the car, he went up to his apartment drank up his liquor cabinet falling asleep sloppy drunk.  The next morning with a splitting headache he called Acme Moving and Storage to pack and ship his stuff.  Because he wasn’t sure where he would end up, he instructed the company to place his belongings into storage until he settled down.  After drinking another fifth of Jack Daniels, drowning his sorrows, he snoozed off.

***

Two days later the moving company arrived.  When he opened the door to let them in he thought he hired the wrong company.  They came at eight o’clock wearing wife beater shirts with tattoos all over their bodies most prominently displayed on their necks. The four rough looking men resembled gang members.

Obviously very closely, with stress on his face, he watched them pack his furniture praying that it would arrive intact at his new residence.  Ten hours later, once the last box was stuffed in the truck the gang left his empty apartment with dust bunnies floating across the floor like tiny tumbleweeds.  Relieved they were gone he stayed at the Motel 6 for the night.

He woke the next morning well rested contemplating the trip west.  After turning over the keys to the apartment with the clothes on his back and two large suitcases in the Volvo the journey west began ominously.  The toll roads in blizzard conditions from Boston to Buffalo were very icy.  What made the drive worse was the traffic crawling along less than twenty miles an hour.  He felt like he’d taken his life in his hands when he swerved and dodged many cars to avoid accidents.  After driving ten hours the weather cleared on the Pennsylvania border.  He donned his sunglasses happy to see the clouds part and the sun glistening off the snow mounds piled on the side of the road.

With the glare bouncing off his shades, he thought how he was going to get the most out of the trip and then it hit him as he passed a sign for the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame.  Crossing the border into Ohio, he remembered as a kid that he always wanted to visit the Hall of Fame.  With music in his blood and the number one Rolling Stones fan, he owned every album and video they put out.  He even dedicated a room in his apartment displaying Stones’ mementos worth thousands of dollars.  The thought of all those boxed memories in a storage locker watched over by some thugs made him sick to his stomach. 

I can’t believe I allowed those thugs to pack my Stones stuff!

His most prized Stones possessions are more than one hundred Stones shirts and concert tickets.  Whenever he could he travelled many miles to see the Stones in concert.

At noon he arrived at the Hall of Fame.  Awesome I’m here! Stitch grinned.  I’ll use the next four hours touring the Hall."

At the Hall he toured four theaters, many multiple interactive stations, and seven exhibit floors.  As he walked the Hall he was overwhelmed on how much music history was in one building, it did a good job telling the story of rock n’ roll.  Naturally, he liked the Stones fiftieth anniversary exhibit bringing back memories of a Stones’ concert in London.

At Wembley Stadium on July 11, 1980, I vividly remembered a very bright July day with the temperature in the 80s.  When the doors opened at seven and as soon as the steward ripped my ticket stub I zoomed through the turnstile leaping like a scared deer towards the stage.  As I stepped a few feet onto the floor a burly security man yelled at me in an English accent hey man, you, don’t run, walk!  As I stopped in my tracks, I turned looking behind me and saw that I was the only person running to the stage.  I wondered for a few moments why I was the only person running and then remembered I wasn’t in the United States.  English people are more reserved than Americans, they don’t hurry for anything.  Fearing that I was going to be handcuffed and removed from the stadium I heeded the warning and quickly slowed down gliding to the stage.  Even though I took my time getting to the stage I ended up only a few yards from the stage front and center, an awesome place to watch the world’s greatest rock n’ roll band perform.  That day the Stones’ took their performance to a high level; it’s the best show I’d ever seen.

Chapter 2

Tuna Noodle Casserole

After visiting the rock n’ roll history, Stitch left the Hall in his rear view mirror heading west through Ohio.  As the sun began to sit, he remembered that he had a relative living in Findlay.  He hasn’t seen Aunt Ginny in over fifteen years.  She’s like a mother to him.  After driving two hundred miles he pulled over at a rest stop fifty miles from Findlay and dials Aunt Ginny’s number.

The phone rang, and Ginny picked it up.  Hello?

Hello Aunt Ginny! Stitch yelled.

Ginny paused; Stitch could hear her take a deep breath.  Yeah, who is this? Ginny wondered.

It’s your nephew Stitch.

Ginny smiled from ear to ear.  Holy cow!  Hello Stitch.  Why are you calling?

I quit my job in Boston a few days ago.  I’m headed west to find a new home.

Wow! Ginny shouted.  That’s the first I’ve heard about that.  Where are you now?

Stitch’s voice is muffled by the traffic zooming by.  I’m about fifty miles north of Findlay on seventy-seven.

Well come on by, I’d be glad to have you.  Do you have directions to my house? Ginny wondered.

Yes.  I punched your address into the GPS; I should be there in an hour.

Happiness can be heard in Ginny’s voice.  Great!  Can’t wait to see you, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.

Okay, Aunt Ginny, see you soon, Stitch hung up the phone.

Stitch remembered last seeing Aunt Ginny at Uncle Erik’s funeral.  Erik died fifteen years ago of skin cancer.  He had a small multi-colored mole the size of a pencil eraser on the left side of his face.  Soon after the diagnosis the cancer spread to his brain and he died two months later.  Ginny was devastated because he was only fifty-five years old expecting him to be by her side the rest of her life.

***

Just in time for supper, Stitch pulled into Ginny’s driveway and as the car lights scanned her house, silhouette Ginny appeared in the front big picture window.  Once he turned off the car she bolted outside greeting him giving him a great big hug.  As he complained about the kung-fu grip she lets go.

I’ve got a dinner surprise for you Stitch, Ginny bragged.

Stitch’s eyes lit up.  Oh yeah, what’s the surprise?

Remember when you were recuperating at my house and I cooked your favorite food?

Oh yeah! Stitch howled.  Tuna noodle casserole, yummy!

Yes, Ginny confirmed.  You were a very sick man then, the doctor didn’t think you would make it.

How could I forget Aunt Ginny?

Yeah and you beat that disease because you were so strong, Ginny remembered.  An older person couldn’t handle it.

Stitch signed.  Yeah, I guess I was a very lucky man.

One day in his early twenties Stitch was diagnosed with gallstone pancreatitis.  The disease began one day when he woke up in his Harvard dorm room eating a horrible breakfast.  He stuffed his face with potato chips, chocolate chip cookies, peanuts, and then washed it down with a Slice soda.  Just after finishing the soda he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his left rib cage.  Because he was pig-headed and stubborn, it took him three days afterwards to go to the hospital in Boston.  But, by then the damage was done.  Eight months later and after two major operations to clean out fluid from his gut and scraping the infection from the pancreas he was released from the hospital.  He went into the hospital a 230-pound ox and came out a skeleton of himself; a 160-pound weakling.

Yes Stitch, Ginny agreed.  You were very lucky.

Stitch wiped his forehead.  Aunt Ginny, let’s talk later I have road dirt all over me and I need to take a shower before supper.

Okay, the bathroom is down the hall on your right, towels in the closet, Ginny directed.

***

After Stitch freshened up, the conversation during supper between them was stimulating.  They had many laughs reminiscing about the past capped off by the tuna noodle casserole story.

Aunt Ginny, remember when I was recuperating at your house and you and Uncle Erik left me alone to run an errand?

Oh yes, Ginny remembered.

A big mistake, right? Stitch bragged.

Oh, that was a long time ago.  I’m not sure I remember.

Let me jog your memory, Stitch smirked.  Well, shortly after you guys left I opened the refrigerator pulling out a large pan of tuna noodle casserole.  As I sat it on the counter I looked around to make sure you guys didn’t come back.  Anyway, it was so good that I ate half.

Oh yeah, Ginny giggled.

Stitch laughed.  When you walked in the house I heard you stomp and the refrigerator door close with a loud thump.  You said yelling, ‘Stitch!  What have you done?’ running into the living room.  But I said, What do you mean?"

Ginny squinted.  Huh.

You were so mad at me your face turned bright red shouting, ‘You have eaten half a pan of tuna noodle casserole, what are we going to have for supper now?!  What do you have to say for yourself?’

Ginny looked up at the ceiling.  Yeah, now I remember.

Well naturally, Stitch interrupted.  I had no response for you because I could barely speak for what I had done.  Feeling embarrassed the rest of the day I hid in my room making sure our paths did not cross.  But, later that night I came out to apologize to you and said, I’m very sorry for eating all that casserole, but boy, it was gooooood!  You broke out laughing hugging me and said, ‘I can’t stay angry at my nephew anymore!’"

Wine spilled out of her nose.  Yeah, that was an interesting day Stitch.

Stitch laughed choking on his bread.  Yes it was Aunt Ginny.

That night as he tossed and turned in bed because the conversation between them jogged his memory of the past.  As he fell asleep he dreamed about what he had left behind in Boston.  During the dream an angel asked him random questions while stating the obvious. 

Was quitting your job a good move?  Are you going to regret leaving behind all you worked for in Boston?  You have many connections in Boston that you will never get back when you find your new home.  If you do get a new job you will have to work your way up the chain again.  Change is a very scary proposition for a man bordering on middle aged.

Stitch woke in a cold sweat.  What have I done?!

Chapter 3

The Wright Stuff

The next morning Stitch thanked Aunt Ginny for a wonderful evening hugging her goodbye.  He continued his journey heading south and two hours later Dayton glistened in the windscreen.  Entering the city a road sign advertising the Wright Cycle Company heightened his curiosity. 

Cool!  I like vintage bicycles; I’ll spend a few hours at the Wright Cycle Company.

Stitch was an avid bike rider in Boston.  He competed in the Tour de France time trials in France, but was unsuccessful making the United States team coming in ninth place.   

During the Wright Cycle Company tour, Stitch learned that not only did the Wright Brothers invented the airplane they had a successful bicycle business.  The company in 1896 began manufacturing and selling bicycles of their own design, the Van Cleve and St. Claire, named after their ancestors.  Interestingly, the brothers invented the self-oiling hub with the innovation of machining the crank arm and pedal on the left side of the bike with left-hand threads prevented the pedal from coming unscrewed while cycling. 

Today, the brick building at 22 South Williams St., where the Wrights worked from 1895 to 1897, is the only extant building on its original foundation and in its original location that housed the Wright bicycle shop.

Significantly, The Wrights used the profit from the Wright Cycle Company to finance their aviation experiment.  They built a six-foot wind tunnel on the second floor of their bicycle shop at 1127 West Third St., the last location of their bicycle business, and from October to December they conducted pioneering tests in the tunnel of over 200 scale-model wings.  In that same building they designed and constructed their gliders and first airplane, the Wright Flyer, which cost under a thousand dollars to build.  That was the end of the cycle company and in 1909 the shop closed and they started an aviation company.

Chapter 4

And they’re off!

Stitch continued on the road and an hour later the outskirts of Cincinnati sparkled in his windscreen.  As he passed Cincinnati on the banks of the Ohio River he saw the city’s reflection ruffle shining on the river’s surface.  But before he blinked the beautiful reflection fades as he passed the Welcome to Kentucky sign on the Brent Spence Bridge.   The bridge spans over the Ohio River and onto the Kentucky Bluegrass Region.  He is enamored by the way the river snaked from the Ohio state border through Kentucky and beyond.

As he arrived in Lexington Kentucky, the city known as the Horse Capital of the World unsightly billboards littered the highway letting you know you have arrived.  Lexington is located in the heart of the Bluegrass Region.  As he thought about the region, his memory took him back to the 1970s when the impossible happened, a race horse won the Triple Crown.  That May day Secretariat was relentless finishing the race furlongs ahead of the second place horse.  He remembered vividly, even as a child, he thought that a horse would never win the Triple Crown ever again.

Chapter 5

Get Your Kicks on Route 66

As Stitch cleared his head of horses pounding the ground, he passed an Ahead Five Miles Rest Stop sign and then he’s startled by the gas gage warning light ding on the dashboard.  After filling up and a quick bite he continued snaking through the Allegheny Mountains through Richmond, London, and Williamsburg.  After crossing into Tennessee and by evening he checked into a Hyatt in Nashville.  The sweltering hotel room was unbearable.  He opened windows for a jet stream to pass through, but one featured annoying crickets while the other serenaded him with a clanking air conditioner box.  Dead tired his head hits the pillow tolerating those noises until the early morning train whistle interrupted his sleep.

What the fuck was that?! he yelled.  Why do they blow that whistle so early in the morning?!

After breakfast Stitch embarked on the town.  Nashville is known as the Music City.  It’s a treasure trove of many musical genres to include Blues and Country and Western.  Obviously Blues is more interesting to him because his heroes Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson, and B.B. King cut their teeth in Nashville. They were responsible for the British Invasion in the 1960’s.

As he turned the corner of Wagner and Beale Street he stopped to admire B.B. King’s name in lights above B.B. King’s Blues Club.  The sparkling Blues Boy sign grabbed his curiosity.

Stitch looked up at the sign in awe.  Those lights are so cool; I’m going to have lunch at B.B. King’s Blues Club.

Yes, that’s a great place to eat!  You should check out the concert tonight, the black homeless man with an overflowing shopping cart interrupted.

Oh yeah, who’s playing tonight? Stitch asked.

An all-star band is playing.  I use to be in the band, the black man bragged.

Oh yeah, what did you play? Stitch wondered.

The black man fumbled in his shopping cart.  I played harp, he mumbled.

Are you anybody famous?

Oh no, the man snarled.  I’m not, but my father was famous in Chicago.

Oh yeah, who’s your father? Stitch prodded.

Have you ever heard of Little Walter?

Stitch’s eyes lit up.  Have I?!  He’s the best harp player I’ve ever heard!  When he turned up the amplifier at Chess he played like the devil.  If you don’t mind me asking, so what happened to you?

I got kicked out of the band because I took too many drugs and combined with alcohol, well you know the rest of the story, the man cried.

Did you get royalties from Little Walter’s music? Stitch pried.

I did, but that ran out when I drank it away five years ago, the man sniffled.

Sorry to hear that, do you still play? Stitch wondered.

The man wiped the sweat from his eyes.  Yeah, I do.  Down at the metro in the stairwell you can hear me blowing.  That’s how I get pennies for food.

That’s too bad, I’m only in town for tonight only, Stitch admitted.

I see, take time and check out the all-star band tonight, the man reiterated.

They shook hands and Stitch placed a twenty dollar bill in the man’s hand.  I will definitely check them out! Stitch promised.

The man grinned from ear to ear.  Thank ya sir, God bless yous.

When Stitch entered Blues Boy’s restaurant he’s overwhelmed by the amount of hand painted portraits of blues musicians dotting the walls.

Sir, welcome to B.B. King’s…table for one? the waiter said.

Stitch nodded his head.  Yes.

Okay, follow me.  Booth or table? the waiter asked.

Stitch pointed to a booth.  Booth please.

During the meal gobbling up his southern food he continued to admire the hand painted portraits.

My favorite is the Robert Johnson picture.  He looks so stern in his black suit and tie with a Gibson L-1 acoustic in his lap, the black man in the next booth nagged.

Stitch rolled his eyes.  Well I don’t know, it’s hard to pick just one.  They are all amazing!  Do you know who painted them? he wondered.

Sure do.  His name is Willie Nixon, the man answered.

Never heard of him.

He’s a local unknown artist, the man pushed.

Well, he should be famous because he has done a nice job, Stitch interrupted.  Do you know how I can get in contact with him?  I bet he could do a great Jagger.

Oh no, he passed last year, the man mumbled.

Stitch sighed.  Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.

Don’t be sorry, he led a good life, the man stuttered.

You sound like you knew him pretty well, Stitch wondered.

Yes, I’m his son, the man sobbed.

Stitch felt sorry for the man.  Oh that’s cool, do you paint, Stitch pried.

The man laughed.  Oh no sir, I have no talent whatsoever.  The apple fell far away from the tree.

Stitch giggled.  Well, it was nice talking to you.

The man wiped the sweat from his forehead.  Yes sir.

After a long day visiting the Grand Ole Opry and many museums, Stitch went back to his hotel room for a power nap and afterwards went back to Blues Boy’s club for the concert.  He was amazed at the line up for the All Star band.  Among the recording studio session musicians Robert Cray, Buddy Guy, and Bobby Cox joined them on stage.  As the All Star band finished their set at midnight, he staggered from the club through the slums to his hotel room encountering many panhandlers begging for money.  As he hugged his pillow blues music rang in his ear.

***

Unfortunately, he woke the next day with a pounding headache.  Before the aspirin took effect, soothing his pain, he had to weave like a pinball through annoying road construction merging onto Route 66.

Route 66 is recognized in popular culture by the hit song Get Your Kicks on Route 66 and the Route 66 television show in the 1960s.  As he travelled though Fairview, Lexington, and Jackson he dreamed about living in the 1950s on Route