Love in Three Sections: A Collection of Stories

By Dan E. Blackstone

Every man has a story to tell and this read definitely shares awe-inspiring tales that one can never forget. An eclectic collection of short narratives, Love In Three Sections depicts episodes which, at the end, teach valuable lessons. Written by Dan E. Blackstone, this exhilarating selection sparks the inquisitive mind. Leading readers to unravel the truth behind every mystery, the stories foment page-turning marathons until the very end.

With The Spirit of Love: What It Means to Be Wanted, readers will go through imaginative lines and interesting conversations. This episode depicts the world through the eyes of a young child, confused yet fascinated with the insanity that he encounters. This part shares a young souls adventures and inquisitive spirit as he tries to make sense of the enigma of those held captive behind bars.

The Shackle is a suspense-thrilling episode of a harrowing crime done to a young woman who was brutally beaten and badly hurt by a faceless assailant. Investigations would have been easier if only she had seen his face, but her vision was obscured by the manner in which she was attacked. Now the perpetrator is on the loose and a man-hunt is set. Authorities are putting together the pieces of the puzzle as clues to solving the case.

Seven Miles Below is another very interesting story. The setting is within a flying aircraft, in which a passenger notices a glaring distress signal from down below. He tries to tell the flight attendant about a possible S.O.S. call but she brushed him off. Not waiting for the opportunity to pass, he followed his instincts and dialed in 911 to report what he saw. Despite airline restrictions, this brave and heroic act saved the lives of a family trapped inside a wrecked vehicle from thousands of feet below.

Inspiring and groundbreaking, these stories will move a deep part of readers souls that part which loves and cares for humanity. Moving and exhilarating, Love in Three Sections is definitely a compelling must-read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781469140643

Dan E. Blackstone

An adventurous explorer, Dan has travelled to many countries with his wife. He was sworn into the USN serving from 1944 to 1952. The main lesson learned was the need for education, He taught science in high school as a career. Although retired, he continues being involved in community activities, especially the EMS, as a volunteer. Writing is usually a spur-of-the-moment activity, especially poetry. His first book, “Love in Three Sections”, was published in 2012. He has many hobbies and interests, and lives in Pawcatuck, CT near the ocean.

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Dan E. Blackstone.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011963017

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4691-4063-6

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4691-4062-9

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-4064-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

The Spirit of Love

What It Means To Be Wanted

List of Characters

Enaud was eleven years old and had walked up from the tracks to look at the buildings. For some unknown reason, he was drawn to them. They were huge, with spacious porches, people looking out and walking around on them. The people were talking but not to each other. Just rambling about what was on their minds without caring for any of the people gathered there. Then a woman saw him standing about fifty feet away from the building on the nicely kept lawn in the shade of a huge elm tree. There were quite a few elms on the grounds, along with maples and oaks of well over forty to fifty feet in height. It was summer, July and he had taken a walk just to explore. Stories had been told to him about this institution and the people who lived there; some were frightening; some were scary, in fact, downright fearful but he had made up his mind that he wanted to see for himself.

Oh, look! A little boy, she said to no one in particular. Until then no one had listened to anyone else. Now several other women with scraggly hair and ill fitting clothes approached the chain-linked fencing with a screen covering. They grasped the linkage and put their faces closer to the fence.

Oh, little boy… are you mine?

Come closer little boy.

Climb up so we can see you and touch you.

He had approached to within five to ten feet. The porch was about five or six feet higher. Some of them were so entrenched in their own world they didn’t notice him but the few who apparently had some connection with reality continued to try and communicate with him. They were radical in their patterns of word usage. His education was limited but adequate for his age. He had been more frightened with each adventurous step but determined to see for himself if these souls were as ‘goofy’ as he had heard.

What’s your name, little boy?

Do you live here?

Want to play a game?

One started reciting nursery rhymes, while two others began to do a patty-cake-patty-cake routine. Then they were back again, grasping the cage fencing and asking his name while another wanted to know if he was coming for tea.

Oh, he’s so cute. And another yelled, He’s my son I tell you!

This went on for several minutes and he was becoming adjusted to the idea that maybe they weren’t as bad as his buddies and the neighborhood people had told him. Suddenly one grasped the enclosure and started yelling and shaking the caging links for all she was worth. This frightened him and he retreated to the elm trees but stopped when two of them yelled to him.

Don’t go, come back! He turned to look at them: the screaming one was still rattling the linkage while the others kept calling to him not to go. He had mixed emotions. He waved to those calling to him to please come back. Without thinking, he said, Tomorrow, and headed back toward the tracks and home while they continued to call him.

Once home there was the usual recapping of the daily events so he included his visitation to the complex indicating the trepidation he felt at the first approach but how that had subsided, once they tried to communicate with him, as limited as that was. He thought it was going well until that one old hag started her nutty screaming and violently shaking the link fence enclosure.

Stop! his mother, Atsuga, said. Then she explained that these people were not ‘nutty’ but ill; that they can’t be held responsible for their actions sometimes. He was confused; he mulled over what she had said and thought about those who were talking to no one but to the wall, to the door, to the space. What was it like to be shut up that way without being able to control what you were doing? And how about the few who wanted to talk and had little control over what they said, or did as some of it was nonsense. Then there were those two or three who seemed to have some honest concern.

Mom, why do you think they thought I was their son? His mother did some fast thinking and said that the women probably has or had as son before she was committed and still thinks of him.

Perhaps you look like him.

But she is real old looking, with watery eyes and white hair.

Some sicknesses induce aging very rapidly and cause a person to have a look that is two or three times their true age. Perhaps she is young but looks old. Then perhaps she is old and has been there for many years and hasn’t progressed mentally past the age of when her son was your age. He may be a grown man now.

Why does that happen to some people? Is God punishing them for something they did wrong?

Suga, his mother’s nickname, drew a deep breath, sighed and then tried to explain that it wasn’t necessarily God doing this. The human body sometimes doesn’t do what it is supposed to do. Sometimes during childbirth a woman may have such a difficult delivery that her system malfunctions and there is a chemical imbalance that causes her to lose contact with reality. Quite often it is only temporary, but there are times when it is permanently disabling to the woman and she has to be put away for her safety and for the safety of others. Maybe this happened to this woman. God wouldn’t intentionally do something like that to anyone. Whoever told you God does things like that is wrong.

He had been sitting at the kitchen table and now he leaned forward putting his arms on the table resting his chin on his arms, mulling over his mother’s comments and wondering what it felt like to be chemically imbalanced, whatever that was, or to lose your control over your speech and not be able to say what you wanted. Then he wondered if they really heard what you said or did they hear it differently, all garbled like their speech.

Mom, Do you think they really saw me as I am or as someone they wanted to see, or just forgot me as soon as I left. Do you think they’ll remember me if I go back tomorrow?

Do you want to return tomorrow? she asked.

Maybe after we go swimming, or crabbing. We’ll be close if we go crabbing at the cove.

Who are you going crabbing with? Maybe they won’t want to go or perhaps you may not want them to go with you. As you said, they have some preconceived ideas about those people.

Mom, what does preconceived mean?

Having ideas or thoughts on something before you have proof or truth about the subject, was his mother’s reply. She was having thoughts of admiration for her son. He was thinking for himself and not ‘following the gang’, so to speak. She liked his concern for other people, not that he couldn’t be an imp or mischievous but she liked this discussion. It was a new adventure for them both. The summer of 1937 could be a memorable one. Suga could hardly wait for tomorrow to see what his approach would be, maybe he’d forget the whole episode.

He had changed his position so that his chin was on his right hand, elbow on the table while he toyed with the salt shaker, trying to balance it on edge without spilling the salt or tipping it over. His mother had been peeling potatoes and she asked him if he had time to put the salt cellar down and empty the peels in the garden for her. To her surprise he rose, picked up the colander and headed outside. She looked astonished for she had only spoken once!

Thank you, she called after him.

Suddenly there was yelling from outside! Her son’s voice filtered through, sounding a little apprehensive. Wiping her hands on her apron, she headed for the backyard to see what the ruckus was.

What are you yelling about?

Mom, ya shudda seen the size of that thing. It was huge!

Thing?

Uh blacksnake; ya shudda seen the size of it! I know you said they’re good to have ‘uhroun’, but wow! He was excited