The Story Teller

   Guess who walked into The Jittery Goat Cafe the other day and ordered a coffee? That’s right, Kenton Lewis. 

Kenton sat at the counter, and Pix set the coffee in front of him

“Kenton, haven’t seen you in a while,” Pix said. “What’s up?”

“Been busy,” Kenton said and sipped.

“Anything in particular?” Pix said.

“Just stuff I’ve put off,” Kenton said.

“It can really pile up pretty fast on ya,” Pix said.

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Kenton said. “I took the long way here today. Must have walked a mile or more.”

“You should get in your car and check the mileage,” Pix said. “That way you’ll know for sure. It’s good to be accurate when you’re about to tell a story.”

“How do you know I’m about to tell a story?” Kenton said.

“You always tell stories,” Pix said.

“No, I don’t,” Kenton said.

“Sure ya do,” Pix said. “I ask you about the weather and you just never say, it’s sunny. You go into some long story about a summer ten years ago or what the summer reminds you of.”

“Then don’t ask,” Kenton paused for a sip.

“Okay,” Pix conceded, “what did you see on the way here?”

“On my walk here, I counted nine or ten masks. A year ago, they were rare. People were looking high and low for them. Now they just toss them away.”

“Was it nine masks or ten?” Pix said.

“To tell you the truth, I lost count,” Kenton said. “But it was nine or ten. The point is, it was a lot on my mind.”

“Why didn’t you just say it was a lot?” Pix said.

“You might not think nine or ten is a lot,” Kenton said. “Your definition of a lot might be fifteen or sixteen or six or seven. I’m not even sure where to draw the line when it’s a few; is that two or three, or is it four or five?”

“They were just masks?” Pix said. “Nothing special about them?”

“No,” Kenton said. “Most were those blue type. I saw a plain white one and another black one. Then I saw one that was black and covered with sequins. Looked to me like it could have been a veil from some girl who belonged to a harem.”

“You got quite an imagination,” Pix said.

“No,” Kenton said, “just wanted to be a little creative and give you perspective. Likely, it was discarded by some lady of the evening.” Kenton smiled in disbelief.

“Why do they call them 'lady of the evening?'” Pix said. “Ain’t that pretty much a twenty-four/seven job?”

“What time does this place close?” Kenton said.

“Six,” Pix said.

“And how long is it before you get out of here?” Kenton said.

“An hour,” Pix said.

“So seven. That’s evening, right?” Kenton said.

“Hey,” Pix said, “what are you implying?”

“Can I just tell you about my walk without interrupting me?” Kenton said. “If I knew you were going to interrupt me because of a minor detail, I’d have left it out.”

“No,” Pix said, “leave it in. I got the imagery on the sequined mask now. It does add something to the story.”

“Let’s just stop right there,” Kenton said. “This is not a story. I don’t tell stories. There’s no plot or lesson or point to what I’m telling you. I’m just telling you I saw an unusual amount of discarded masks on my walk here.”

“Just because it’s not a story doesn’t mean it couldn’t be one,” Pix said.

“Okay,” Kenton said, “here’s the story. A guy takes a peaceful walk. He stops for coffee. He tells a man, not unlike himself, about an experience on the walk. The man, not unlike yourself, interrupts. He asks questions that have nothing to do with the story. He doubts the particulars. Here’s the point: some things just aren’t worth telling. They’re not interesting; even if you add sequins to it.” Kenton stood and sipped. He set the nearly full cup back on the counter. “End of story.” He left.

Pix strained his neck watching Kenton walk away. “He didn’t pay for the coffee. He only took a couple of sips. I’ll just pour it back in the pot.”

A Cult in Paradise; Episode 14, Adam and Talei

This is episode fourteen of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

Adam and Talei

Talei and Trace drove to The Tramp Islander. They went into the pilothouse. 

“Dad’s probably in his cabin,” Trace said. “I’ll ring him.”

Talei stood at the aft door. Trace noticed she was near trembling. He grabbed the phone and dialed. “Hey, Dad, can you come up to the pilothouse?”

“Be right there,” Adam replied. 

The sound of the cabin door opening and shutting reached the pilothouse, followed by steps coming up the companionway. Trace glanced at Talei. She wet her hips and swallowed. She took a quick deep breath. 

Adam stopped at the last step. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. He stepped up into the pilothouse. With his arms open, he stepped toward Talei. 

She stepped forward and embraced him. Adam’s arms fell limp.

“I am not married and I have no man,” Talei said. “So hold me.”

“Oh, Talei,” Adam said and wrapped her in his arms. “Is it possible, you are more beautiful than the last time I saw you, and more beautiful than I ever imagined?”

“And look at you,” Talei said. “You have not gotten older, you have gotten mature and distinguished.”

Adam chuckled. “That still sounds old to me.”

They smiled at each other without a word spoken. Finally, Adam said, “Sit. Let’s talk.”

Trace slowly moved to the companionway. He quietly began to step below.

“Where are you going, young man?” Talei quipped. “You stay and chaperone us.”

Trace climbed back up and sat at the chart desk. Adam and Talei sat on the bench facing each other.

“Tell me about yourself in an instant,” Trace said, “because I want to know it all right now.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” Talei said. 

Adam’s smile left only his eyes. “I guess if we start at the beginning, it might be sad.”

“Trace filled me in on you,” Talei said. “You went back to Texas and met a wonderful woman whom you married. I met a wonderful man. He was like you, an American. We wanted children and had none. He loved surfing—and that’s how he drowned.”

“I’m so sorry,” Adam said, gripping one hand and placing the other on her shoulder.

“My wife died when Trace was five,” Adam said bravely. “It was a car accident.”

Talei softly placed her hand on Adam’s cheek. “Oh, Adam, I know you and know how hard you must have grieved.” She broke into a wide smile. “But look at the son you raised. I only met him, and he is dear to me. You have so much.”

“Life has had to be good to you,” Adam said. “No wait, you always said, ‘You have to be good to life before life is good to you. It’s already given you life—what else do you want?’”

“That came from my grandmother,” Talei said.

“She was so wise,” Adam said.

Suddenly, Trace realized there was an entire other life to Adam. Something buried but always there, waiting for the right moment to be uncovered.

Talei turned serious, but her eyes remained bright. “Trace told me you did not want to come ashore. You were afraid to see me.”

“The truth is,” Adam said, “I was afraid of what it might do to you. But I was acutely more aware of what I thought it would do to me. That’s selfish.”

“You were thinking of us,” Talei said. 

“I just can’t believe my eyes,” Adam said. “The last time I saw you, you wore a muumuu, and now you are dressed like a Fifth Avenue ad executive.”

“And look at you, Adam,” Talei quipped, “I think those are the same clothes I last saw you in.”

“Well, the hat for sure,” Adam laughed, and so did Talei.

“What happened to your husband, if I may ask?” Adam said. 

Talei forced a brave smile. “He was an American, in many ways like you. Loved to surf, but one day, when the waves were very large, he went out. He drowned. I worked for my father at the factory. And Kyle owned a surf shop. It was perfect for him. He loved the islands.” 

“It looks as if we have had our share of heartbreaks and tragedies,” Adam said. 

“We all do,” Talei said. “About that time, I think back, I think of those who have not had what I’ve had. If I may be so forward, yet honest, to love is a great treasure. I’ve been loved twice. To be loved is a greater treasure. I’ve been loved twice.”

“That’s been the way with me, too,” Adam said. “You took the words right out of my mouth. I had Trace. He didn’t know it, but he was often my anchor.”

Trace interrupted. “You always said I was more like a pain in the rump.”

“That’s where the anchor was planted,” Adam quipped.

They continued to talk and laugh. Makani appeared and was introduced to Talei. The conversation lasted the entire afternoon. Coyote, Sage, Pete, and Cally made their acquaintance with Talei. She stayed for supper. And as night fell, Adam walked her to her car.

They leaned against the front of the car. Neither wanted the time together to end.

“I gather from the crew you will be leaving in a couple of days,” Talei said.

“Yes,” Adam said.

“The crew is very cautious not to reveal where or why you are going,” Talei said. “I know it’s nothing illegal. You would never be a part of that. Believe me, I’m not prying. I’m concerned for your safety, Trace, and the crew. What I’m trying to say is, right now, my emotions are like a crashing wave. You are in my life now. What I mean is that I know you are alive and well. Before today, you were a memory. Now you are real. I lost you once, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Crashing waves is a good way of putting it,” Adam said. “What I feel right now, I don’t want it to leave. Yet, I know our hearts can make fools out of us. We can’t leave it like this. We could walk away—and regret it the rest of our lives. When I saw you standing there in the pilothouse, I could have died that moment, and everything in my life would have been complete. I have to figure this out, and I can’t do it on my own. Only you can help.”

Talei moved closer to Adam, and he put his arm around her. 

“We have a couple of days,” Talei said. “If we were young,” she chuckled, “that would be enough. We are older. We know who we are and what we need. We must give ourselves time.”

“Not in a million years did I ever think of seeing you ever again,” Adam said. “I’m not idealistic as to conclude this was meant to be. It’s now what is meant to be; it’s how you make it. But I’m baffled about how this came to be. There was this time, maybe ten years ago. I had to go to Houston. I saw this woman. She looked so much like you that I nearly approached her and asked her name. I knew it wasn’t you, but I fantasized for a moment that it might really be you. And how wonderful it would be just to talk to you.” Adam held her tighter. “And now look, here we are—impossible to explain.”

“I will make an admission to you,” Talei said. “My life here has been good, very good, but I should have gone with you. It was a mistake. When you left, Kyle soon came along. He filled some of the hole in my heart, but not all of it.”

Talei reached into her purse. She removed a slip of paper and a pen. She jotted her address and handed it to Adam. 

“I’m an early riser,” Talei said. “Be at my home at seven. Breakfast will be ready.”

They embraced and kissed.

Adam watched Talei drive away. It was all he could do to keep himself from calling her back. He stood for a couple of minutes after her red taillights disappeared into the night.

A Shot in the Dark

  Maybe it's just me, and usually, it is. 

  Family genealogy is fascinating to me. It's not so much the names, dates of birth, marriages, and eventual deaths, but it is what can be filled in with fact or imagination.

  I have what some might think is a treasure. It is an unpublished book that chronicles my great-great-grandfather's trek from southeastern Ohio to northwest Ohio. And, of course, his wife and sons. 

  It was in the possession of an older cousin, much older. He lent it to me on the condition that it would be returned after I finished reading it. After reading, I handed it over to another cousin, who made two copies, one for him and one for me. I was able to return the original.

  The cousin I originally obtained it from was many times removed from my branch of the family. He didn't even possess my last name. However, it contained a couple of stories thought to be myths with no particular origin.  

  To me, the intriguing part of the book was the chronicle of events that moved my family from Perry County, Ohio, to Mercer County. I calculated the journey to be ten days. 

  There was one very interesting event. At the end of one day, the family set up camp. One of the teenage boys stayed up all night to keep watch. During the night and through the dense trees and underbrush, he saw what appeared to be two sets of eyes. He aimed his flintlock in the middle and fired. The two eyes disappeared. This woke the family. They decided any threat was gone and would wait until morning to investigate.  

  When morning came, Adam and the boys traced to where it was thought the two eyes were seen. They discovered a wolf shot between the eyes. Not bad for a young'un in the night with a flintlock rifle. 

  I heard this story again, but rehashed.

  Over a hundred years later, my dad was stationed at the Panama Canal. He walked guard duty one night. He walked part of his guard post through the jungle. He spotted what he thought was two eyeballs in the jungle. He called out to be identified. No one responded. Dad aimed for between the eyes and fired. The next morning, they conducted an investigation. And a panther was found with a bullet wound between the eyes.  

  Yep, my dad likely borrowed that story. And I have the feeling the other story may have been borrowed also. I suspect that somewhere in my family's history, aeons ago, one of my ancestors shot a bow or hurled a slingshot in the middle of the night and hit something between the eyes.  

A Cult in Paradise; Episode 13, Finding Talei

This is episode thirteen of the fifth book in the Trace Troy Adventures in  Paradise series. The Title is A Cult in Paradise. It will be featured in episodes over the next few months. It will eventually be published in full on Amazon. All of the Trace Troy books, as well as my other novels, can be purchased on Amazon by clicking the Bookstore tab above. I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. 

Finding Talei

After breakfast, Trace went ashore on his own. Adam preferred to stay aboard.

Trace thought it was a primitive way to locate Talei, but he had no other option. He visited every door, business, or resident on the main street along the shoreline of Pago Pago. He asked if anyone knew of a woman named, Talei, who would be in her late forties. Some seemed suspicious, others, genuinely helpful, and others apathetic. 

Near noon, he walked through the front door of a large building. From the rear of the building came the sounds of humming electric motors and small gas motors. They were accompanied by scattered loud voices, men and women. There were also the clangs and clanks of metal against metal. It appeared to be some sort of factory. 

He approached the desk of a young female receptionist. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for a woman named Talei. She’s in her late forties. I’m the son of an old friend of hers.”

The woman said nothing. She appeared frightened. 

“I hope I didn’t say something that scared you,” Trace said.

She stood and pointed toward the door. “Leave immediately, or I will call the police.”

Trace stood motionless for a moment. He tried to read what he had said that had disturbed her. “My name is Trace Troy. My father is Adam. Telei was a friend. They haven’t seen each other in almost thirty years.”

She picked up the phone.

Trace held his palms out. “I’m going. I’m going. I’m sorry that I upset you.” 

He slowly backed away and out the door. She set the phone down.

Trace thought as he walked away, ‘I sure stirred up a hornet's nest in there. It means I’m on the right track or there are other Taleis around.’

He continued to canvass the residences and businesses. 

A car approached. He turned to make sure he was far enough from the road. The glint of the sun on the windshield prevented him from seeing the driver. The car slightly swerved to create more room between Trace and the car. Trace walked on. He saw what he believed was the car that swerved, approaching from the opposite direction. The car was a tan Mercedes-Benz. The woman appeared native, and well-arranged hair. The car slowed. Trace pretended to ignore it. It passed, and Trace turned his head enough to see it in his peripheral vision. The car pulled into a driveway and backed out. The car drove past Trace and pulled to the side of the road, and stopped. Trace approached the car and heard the window motor retract the window. 

Trace bent down. “Is your name Talei?”

She reached for the gear shift.

“My name is Trace Troy,” he said, “Adam Troy is my father.”

She released her grip from the gear shift and stared ahead. Her lips slowly parted slightly. She breathed deep. 

“I’m sorry,” Trace said. “I never saw you. I’ll just go on.”

She turned quickly to face Trace. “Is Adam okay?”

“Yes,” Trace said. “He’s in Pago Pago.”

“Where?” Talei asked.

“On the Tiki,” Trace said. “It’s called The Tramp Islander now.”

“Why is he here?” Talei asked.

“That’s a long story,” Trace said. “He has no idea I’m looking for you. In fact, he refuses to come ashore.”

“Can we go somewhere for coffee?” Talei said. 

“Sure,” Trace said. 

“Get in,” Talei said. “There’s a place just ahead.”

Trace climbed into the passenger seat. He offered his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

Talei smiled and softly placed her hand in Trace’s hand. “The same here.” 

They drove a short distance without a word. She turned into a paved parking lot with a building that had several businesses. They walked in and sat at a table next to the window. 

They ordered coffee.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Trace said, “but I’ve had nothing since breakfast and I’d like to order something for lunch.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Talei said. She said to the waitress. “I’ll have my usual salad.”

“Do you have hamburgers?” Trace said. 

“The best,” the waitress smiled.

“Fries also,” Trace said.

The waitress left. 

“You must be a regular,” Trace said.

“It belongs to my sister,” Talei said.

“The receptionists at the business I stopped at, did she call you?” Trace asked. 

“No one called me,” Talei said. “Our meeting was completely by accident.”

“I’ve been stopping at every business and home and asking for a woman named Talei,” Trace said. “I had the feeling some knew you, but didn’t say anything.”

“I’ve been away from a phone all morning,” Talei said. “My answering machine is probably full.”

“You drive a Mercedes, new,” Trace said, “you must do pretty good for yourself.”

“The business you stopped at belongs to my family,” Talei said. “My father started it and left it to me.”

“The place stinks,” Trace said. “No offense.”

“We process fish,” Talee said. “That’s the way it’s supposed to smell.”

“Well, Dad and I are ranchers,” Trace said. “And some folks think manure stinks. Dad says, That’s what money smells like.”

“How is Texas?” Talei asked.

“Hot, dusty, and home,” Trace said. 

“I’ve only seen pictures,” Talei said. “Exactly how it appears in photographs.”

The waiters brought two coffees.

“So why are you looking for me?” Talei said. 

“I never heard about you until last night,” Trace said. “Maybe I haven’t had time to think things through. You were pregnant with Dad’s child. I think he would really like to know how you are.”

“Then why doesn’t he try to see me himself?” Talei said.

“If married, he said he’d be concerned about the effect on your marriage,” Trace said. 

“Then why did you sail to Pago Pago?” Talei said.

“It wasn’t Dad’s choice or mine,” Trace said. “It’s by mistake. Like I said, I knew nothing about you until last night. We’ve known about coming to Pago Pago for only a week.”

“Why didn’t Adam try to prevent the trip?” Talei said suspiciously. 

“Someone else planned on stopping at Pago Pago,” Trace said. “

Talei crossed her arms and turned her head. 

Trace sipped his coffee and stood. He reached into his pocket and tossed money on the table. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“Wait,” Talei said, unfolding her arms and rising in her chair. “Please, sit.”

Trace paused and looked out the window. He pressed his lips and sat. 

“I’m sorry,” Talei said. Her face tightened as if holding back her tears and emotions. “How is Adam?”

“Dad is fine,” Trace said. “In fact, he’s incredible. Except for Mom’s death, he’s had a good life. The only thing he complains about is beef prices, but he never worries about them. He’s exactly what I want to be. He’s probably the same man he was when you first met.”

“I often wandered about him,” Talei said, “Maybe every day, especially lately. And he’s here! I’m glad to hear he is well. And I’m sorry for being so rude to you. I must have made a terrible impression on you.”

“No, no,” Trace said, “If anybody should apologize, it should be me. I come into this thing like a bull in a china shop. I mean, come on.” He looked at the watch on his wrist. “We met fifteen minutes ago and dumped a load of garbage in your lap.”

“It’s not garbage,” Talei said. “It’s a surprise,” she smiled, “but not garbage. Your father was my first love. He was kind, caring, understanding, handsome, witty, and a lot of other things. As you know, we lost a child. We weren’t married. We were going to get married. The more we found out about each other, we realized I could not exist in any place but here. And the more I got to know Adam, he would always have his ranch in his heart. He could not take me from the islands, and I could not take him from what made him who he was,” she smiled and continued, “a cowboy.”

The waitress brought the meals. And they began eating.

“This is actually a very good hamburger,” Trace said. 

“American beef,” Talei said. “Maybe from the Troy ranch.”

“So you are doing well?” Trace said.”

“I am,” Talei said. 

“How is the ranch?” Talei asked. 

“It’s doing well,” Trace said. “I think Dad has nearly doubled the size.”

“He talked about the ranch like it was the center of the universe,” Talei said. 

“I find myself doing the same,” Trace said. 

They engaged in more small talk. 

“So what do we do from here?” Talei said.

“This was a bad idea,” Trace said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I met you. You are a very nice person. I like you, but I had no idea of what to do other than find you and tell you Adam Troy is on a boat and refuses to leave it for fear he might upset the life of a woman he loved.”

“You mentioned he raised you on his own,” Talei said. “Never remarried after your mother’s death?”

“No,” Trace said. “He dated a couple of women. None lasted more than a few weeks. I always thought he couldn’t bring himself to love again. Actually, he told me that not so long ago.”

“This has been a bold move on your part,” Talei said. “What do you think is the worst thing that can happen?”

“You are old friends,” Trace said. “Dad has come here and seen many old friends. You are the closest. The worst thing that could happen—the worst thing that could happen is that you two never see each other again.”

Talei smiled. She slid her hand across the table and placed it in Trace’s. “Looking at you and how much you look like Adam takes me back a few years. I want to see him. I want to hear his voice and see his smile. Let’s go.”

“Now?” Trace said.

“Of course,” Talei said. “I want to see him more than you could imagine.”

“And he wants to see you more than what either of us can imagine.”