Gunpowder Eyes

“He’s gone.”

I woke up on the floor on my office building. It was closer to the airport that the house.  I couldn’t get an early flight but Breann found one out of Newark, New Jersey at 6:15am. Breann called me from the Bozeman, Montana hospital.

“He died? Bruce wouldn’t get the surgery?”

Breann hadn’t slept much. She was snide. Her sighs were like a tiger’s growl.

“No, dude. He’s gone. There’s no one here. No one will talk to me. It’s like they vanished. Lucas’ wife must have told him that you knew about Bruce’s heart attack.”

I felt lost. I struggled for a response.

“They had to take them to Los Angeles. That’s where Cluber’s set up. Ava told me she was going there soon to train for my surgery.”

Breann didn’t answer. Her phone was muffled by her hand or someone else’s. There was a struggle between her and a male voice. I thought I heard “let me have the phone”. Then I heard a smack. The connection dropped.

I climbed the stairs to the roof to get better reception.  The Atlanta November morning wind caused shivers. Breann called back.  Her speech was overwhelmed with pants.

“I’m running to the parking lot. This security guy hassled me and I punched him in the face and got my phone back. Oh my God, I hope I didn’t just smack a real cop! I’ll call when I get on the road.”

I ran back down to my office  and got my stuff together. By the time I got my car, she called back.

“Hey, ok, here’s the deal. Don’t come to Bozeman, like, at all. I heard a nurse say I was trespassing. I think I’m persona non grata here. I’m driving to the Bozeman airport. This is where you tell me what the hell we’re supposed to do next.”

Breann was asking me questions to a test for which I didn’t study. I saw the entrance ramps for the interstate. If I took a right, I went to the airport. It I took a left I went back towards an alternative idea that wasn’t going to make anyone happy.

“I’m headed to Ava’s, Breann.”

Breann started cursing to herself and saying the words “no, no, no” away from the phone. Then she collected herself.

“I don’t think they went to Los Angeles. I don’t know why I think that, but just stuff I’ve seen here. The nurse said that the doctors told her I was trespassing. Maybe Bulas has joined the party or one of Ava’s friends is involved. So, just be careful. Wear a condom.”

I didn’t bother calling Ava. Her texts the night before told me she was home. She was staying at the house she lived in before her marriage too. The driveway was empty but she told me her car was being serviced. I walked around the front yard to knock on the patio doors. Inside, I saw her in goggles, with what looked like an artificial torso. She had something that resembled a laser pointer. I tried to take a picture of it and send it to Breann, but phone blurried the image. I turned my back to the patio to figure it out when Ava opened the door.

“Caleb, what are you doing?”

I put my phone inside my jeans pocket and turned around sheepishly.

“I’m being really bad at checking up on you.”

Ava crossed her arms and shook her head. She opened the door further and motioned for me to enter.

“Leave the stalking and the terrible private detective work to Breann and your internet buddies. It’s cold out there. Come in and tell me why your daughter doesn’t like me anymore.”

She showed me what she was working on. It was a preview of what the side of my chest would look like. I told Ava as much as I thought she should know and might already. I didn’t reveal me leaving home. Ava took it all it, made me hot chocolate and finally said something.

“Dr. Cluber is in London at a robotics conference. Oliver is in Kentucky seeing his mom. I dont know what Gavin is up to, but I think he’s got a new girlfriend who’s a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, or he’s photoshopping his cyberbook pictures. Lucas wouldn’t take Bruce to L.A. without Dr. Cluber. Maybe Bruce is dead and his family doesn’t want you and Breann in their personal business?”

There were some times when Ava’s smarm was actually wise. I was starting to agree. Instead of conspiracy, maybe Bruce Nolans and Lucas Bonner were just private people who wanted to be left alone. Then Ava said something startling.

“If you approach Lucas alone, he’ll talk to you because you’re the best candidate for the surgery. Your heart is most similar to the first two. Everything else is identical to Breann.”

They put the same types inside the boys and different ones in the girls.  This meant Connor Bulas was involved.

“Where’s Connor Bulas, Ava? He’s close to Bozeman, Montana isn’t it.”

Ava scooped up the cups and walked toward the kitchen sink and tried to change the subject. 

“I got three movies from webshow. One of them has stuff that blows up and a girl with big boobs.”

I grabbed Ava’s arm and turned her toward me. She pulled her blonde hair behind her ears and but her lip.

“Bulas is in Langdon, North Dakota. He and Cluber did Lucas’ surgery a few years ago. That’s ll I know. If you take me with you and leave Breann out they’ll talk to you and maybe go ahead and prep you for January. You take Breann or Lena or Clare and they will be ghosts to us.”

The light was off in her kitchen. The long shadows off of her silouette collided with the morning sunlight. Breann was right. Ava had those eyes. Blue, grey,deep, wicked, explosive; like gunpowder. I shook my head yes. Ava left the room to pack. I texted Breann.

- “Go back home.” -

*blogger’s note * – This is a new story episode of the book I’m writing. You can find the rest of it here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/crazy-robot-stories/

Today’s song serves as inspiration for this episode. Neko Case’s voice is amazing but her lyrics are special. The line of “long shadows and gunpowder eyes” fits Ava. Here’s Neko and hauntingly beautiful Prison Girls.

Eleanor

“Ava, not right now now!”

I opened the hotel room door shirtless and saw Breann, Lena and Clare. Their awkward stares and curled lips left me struggling for an explanation. Lena drawled sarcastically.

“Your wife gave us permission to kidnap you. I guess just in time?”

I smiled and looked for a shirt.

“Sorry, I was about to go to sleep.”

Breann forced a smile and let me know their mischievious plans.

“Since we only have one night in New York, we’re going to get tattoos and get drunk. The tattoo place won’t let us get drunk first. “

Clare seemed giddy with the tattoo notion.

“We’re going to get roman numerals for how we were all born or made or whatever. Lena’s 3, I’m 4, you’re 5, and baby girl Breann is 6.”

Getting a tattoo nor getting drunk worried me. I was interested. But getting it decided for me turned me off.

“Girls, why don’t we just go get some drinks and talk about how screwed up all of this seems.”

As I turned toward my suitcase, Breann stepped by my right side. She leaned in and whispered.

“Have you done something awful with Ava? I don’t know your body language well enough to make that call?”

I wasn’t offended by the question. I knew I looked guilty of something.

“Hey guys, can you two wait downstairs. I just need to talk with Breann for a few minutes. I’ll buy the first round.”

They mumbled into the hallway til they reached the elevator. I sat down on the bed and put my face in my hands.

“I haven’t slept with her. We’ve exchanged kisses and crossed some emotional lines. I’m going to tell Shane when I get back. I told Ava I would do the surgery with her and Cluber in January. That doesn’t mean I’m not supportive or connected to you and Lena and Clare. I want to track down Bruce, Connor Bulas, and Lucas again. But I have to get keep myself alive for my family.”

Breann sighed and sat on the bed next to me. She straightened her shoulders, pulled her hair behind her ears and started talking.

“The first time I ever got into a relationship with another woman was the best thing and worst thing together. It saved my life at first then nearly killed me while it lasted. I see similarities with you and Ava so I think it’s relatable.

She leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wistfully.

“I met Eleanor in college. Just like you and Ava. Our boyfriends played lacrosse at Seton Hall. We would go watch their matches. She was more cute than pretty. She was tall, blondeandt she had those eyes.,you know, like Ava’s; blue, deep, and completely wicked. We flirted a few times. After we broke up with those guys we didn’t see each other for almost two years. I graduated and got my first journalism job at the Newark Register. I worked the lifestyle section. For some stupid reason I was doing runner stuff, like research, but less important, on a story about restaurants owned by celebrities. Eleanor was a sous chef at this Asian place owned by that guy in those Rush Hour movies. Not Jackie Chan but the one who’s not as funny as Chris Rock. When I saw Eleanor I was just taken. She was engaged to a guy but I guess we just were in each other’s head or something. Eleanor dumped her fiance for a while and we were attached at the hip for months. It was out in the open. I even took her to my office Christmas party at the Register. We had sex in my copy editor’s office.”

I rolled my eyes and put my shirt on. I realized Breann was sharing something vital.

“Dude, that’s too much, really. We’re like kind of brother and sister, you know?.”

Breann laughed, sat up on the bed, hit me in the arm and kept talking.

“Eleanor liberated me. I was myself 24-7. I didn’t care that people knew I was in love with a woman. Well, I was in lust with El, not love, but the point is, I didn’t hide from anything. She was bad news, though. I was a fling for her. By the time it was all over, her fiance took her back on the condition she never contact me and vice versa. I lost my job at the Register because El made me look so reckless. A couple of years later I ran into her out somewhere in the city. El acted like the past never happened. She hit on me, even though she was married. We saw each other on and off for about three months. Nothing sexual happened but it was just wrong. I think her husband found out or Eleanor got bored. She stopped calling me and I moved to another part of the city. I swore I would never let myself or anyone I cared about go through that. The next three or four women I dated paid for the sins of Eleanor. I know some of this is different than what you are going through with Ava. They do have the same eyes and disregard of morality. Ava doesn’t respect you or Shane or me or anyone else that matters. By the time this is all over, she will destroy your happiness.”

I understood. I felt closer to Breann. I walked over to the bathroom and finished getting ready. By the time I reappeared in the foyer, she was crying.

“Thanks for telling me about Eleanor. When I get back home, I’ll figure out a way for my family to come first in all of this. That includes you.”

Breann hugged me. I felt the wetness of her eyes on my neck. I squeezed her tightly and whsipered in her ear.

“It we did olde english designs it would look better.”

Breann let go of me and wiped her brown eyes dry.

“We should get tramp stamps saying ‘deliver us from evil women’.”

I pushed Breann out the door as she was laughing and looked down at my phone. Ava was calling. I hit ignore.

*blogger’s note* – This is another episode of a story I am writing. The rest of it is here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/crazy-robot-stories/

Today’s song is from a pretty good one hit wonder band, The Low Millions. There’s just enough angst and plenty of melody to make this work on my ipod. This is Eleanor….

The Letter

Thurman Ober looked into his salad. Breann threw down her fork and said exactly what I was thinking.

“Yes, Clare, they will own us! That’s why Ava is so hot for Caleb and why Gavin Todd or Oliver Wicks won’t let us talk to Cluber or find Bulas. We’re their payoff. Cluber gets the fame in the mad scientist monthly and his minions get their own minions!”

The table was silent. Our waitress slowly approached the table, refilled our drinks and slinked away. Finally Lena announced.

“I’m sorry, ya’ll, but I need to go to to the bathroom. Anybody coming?”

Clare accompanied Lena but Breann stayed seated. She looked me with hurt eyes. I peered toward Dr. Ober.

“If you were in our position, what would you do?”

For the first time since meeting Thurman Ober in the hotel room he didn’t hesitate.

“Get the surgery. Dr. Cluber’s motives and methods may be suspect but you six are medical marvels. What you could mean to others is amazing. You will have some top notch medical attention whether you want it or not, for the rest of your lives. You all should find Connor Bulas, if it’s possible. The rumors of him becoming an expert in the field of genetically modified food are probably true. He may be willing to help you against Dr. Cluber’s ethics. Use the technology. I have added years to my life by eating healthy, employing advanced vitamin therapy, and using robotics to cure arthritis.”

I took some bites and thought about Shane and the girls. I knew my importance, but being involved with Ava was now a permanent problem.

“Dr. Ober, can Breann and the others I stay in touch with you for advice?

Ober nodded yes and gave a miniature grin. The others came back from the restroom and rejoined the conversation. Lena and Clare grew on me as our visit continued. They were as scared, confused, and stressed as Breann and I.  After dinner, Lena, Clare and Thurman Ober hailed cabs. Breann and I decided to walk back to my hotel. She grabbed my arm at the door of the restaurant.

“Did you leave that change the waitress gave me for the rest of the tip?”

I had not, so she went inside. I turned toward the street and saw Ava and Lucas in black overcoats, standing side by side across the way. I put my thumb and finger to my eyes and looked again. They were gone.

I turned and saw Breann staring at me with concern. I put my hand to her face, moving her brown bangs away. Like me she was graying in her temples. I checked her forehead for fever. Breann did the same to me. We were warm.

“What are you going to do about Ava as far as your wife and kids are concerned?”

The wind began to gust and it felt like the temperature had dropped 10 degrees since we had been in the restaurant.

“I don’t know . I hope someone other than me will back down from their emotions and stances.

We talked about nonsense and music for the rest of the walk.  As we got to the hotel, Ava was getting out of a cab. I looked at Breann and her eyes appeared to ingite. She hugged me good night and took Ava’s ride. Ava sneered at Breann and then smiled devilishly toward me.

“Did she cry when you told her?”

I began walking inside then turned to find Ava by my side.

“Really Av?”

She handed me her handbag and took off her overcoat and draped it over my shoulders.

“Oh good grief, Caleb, let me have some fun. Your surgery is in 62 days. So it’s my medical advice, you relax and not get caught up in the others’ drama.”

I took the coat off, draped in over my arm and we got in an open elevator together. I glared at her.

“You’re right. Your drama is more than enough.”

The elevator door closed and the metal box began to ascend. Ava reached for the stop button and suddenly we were suspended between the first and second floors. She moved strands of blond hair behind her right ear, licked her lips and moved within inches of my face. She ran her long fingers over my chest toward my waist then detoured into the inside pocket of the overcoat. She removed a white envelope and backed away a few inches, while she tore it open and took out a piece of white paper.

“Read this to me. “

I remembered what was on the paper. It was a letter I sent Ava five years earlier the day I didn’t show after she told her husband she had cold feet.

“I wrote that a long time ago Ava.”

She shoved the paper to my chest, hard.

“Read it Caleb. You treat me like I’m a cold hard bitch, but I’m not a liar like you.”

I felt sure she didn’t know who Thurman Ober was or at least what I learned from him.

 ”You lie like I never could Av. The stuff you’ve left out about my heart, Cluber, this whole thing. It’s all a lie. You can’t own me regardless of whether I have this surgery.”

Ava didn’t flinch. Her blue eyes steeled. I could see the tightness of my face in them. I hit the button to start the elevator. She pointed her right index finger toward her chest, crumbling the letter.

“You’ve been mine since college. The day I turned down two other boys to let you take me to that homecoming football game, you belonged to me.”

I stared blankly at her. My tolerance for nostalgia was low. She kept going.

“What? Have you been watching Terminator movies? Talking to Breann and her conspiracy hens? Without me, you’re dead. Anson Cluber can’t find Connor Bulas, so he’s created a hybrid network that will turn you into an almost perfect specimen. Without me, Gavin and Oliver,  Dr. Cluber wants nothing to do with you, Breann, and those two southwestern housefraus.”

The elevator opened to the third floor. I fought back.

“You’re not coming in. I won’t start taking housecalls until January.”

I walked away from her and the letter. She fumbled out of the elevator, getting her coat, handbag and the paper into one arm.

“Read it to me! “

I took the letter from her hand. Her slender fingers waved over mine. I looked into her face. Her eyes had softened. She was hurt, like Breann earlier.

“I know what it says. I told you we were connected. I wrote that we should have found a way to be together when we were in our thirties. We’re forty now. I’m married and technically so are you.  So I’m not yours, regardless of what happens if I get the surgery. I shouldn’t have written …”

Ava didn’t want me to finish. She moved quickly, pushing me violently against the hallway wall. Then my face grazed hers and she moved her lips into mine reaching her right hand behind my head and pulling my hair. The kiss was brief, but effective. I was pinned against the wall and looking side to side for someone to see us.

“Ava, get your stuff and come inside.”

She smiled and followed me into the room. Before she could come after me again I grabbed her arms, held them behind her and shoved her hard into the now closed door. My mouth was an inch away from hers and she pursed, expecting me to continue.

“This isn’t happening Av. You answer a question for me and I’ll have the surgery.”

We were breathing hard and she reached her mouth for mine. I pulled away but still held her arms behind her. She shook her yes and kept panting.

“Were you planning on telling me before the surgery that you were owning the heart and stuff inside of me?”

I let go of her arms and she bound toward me, balling the front of my shirt in her hand, lightly kissing my lips, whispering her answer.

“There is no law saying I have to. Robotics are so new, there are no patient-doctor commandments. Dr. Cluber says that I have to be your personal physician because of privacy and patent issues. Trust me, though. After the surgery, you’ll like me a lot more than you think you do now.”

I turned away from  her. She  put her arms around my waist and buried her face in my back.

“I’ll do it, Av. Don’t worry about Breann and the others. I’m not sorry I wrote that letter. I just need to think right now.”

She took her arms away from me waist. The door slammed.

*blogger’s note* – This is another story episode. The entire saga is here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/crazy-robot-stories/ . This is also inspired by a fiction writing prompt THE LETTER  from the good folks at The Red Dress Club – http://www.thereddressclub.blogspot.com . Their parameters were 600 words, so I doubled that and some. Hope they’ll still let me hang out.

Today’s song is a personal favorite. I am a complete Alex Chilton fanboi. He started his career as a teenager singing lead for The Box Tops. Later he began a legend with Big Star. Here’s a barely shaving Alex letting loose on one of the most underrated rock songs of the 60s – The Letter.

Jumper

The walk from the hotel to the restaurant was long and cold. I changed into a long sleeved shirt but forgot a jacket. I didn’t have any cash so I didn’t bother with a taxi. I dialed Shane and the girls. They sounded funny and content. I kept my news brief and non-controversial. Shane could hear the confusion, the hurt and stress but she said she trusted me.

After about 15 blocks, I saw a dilapated basketball court. Two boys around 10 years old did jumpshots and taunted each other. I stopped to watch when it hit me. I had been in the spot I stood. I called my dad.

“Hey pop. I need for you to level with me again. When I was a kid, did you and mom take me back to New York?”

There was silence for a few seconds then I heard him breathe deeply and whisper into the phone.

“Your mom is the other room. She isn’t happy about you bringing all of this up. She thinks these doctors can hurt you more than help you. But yes, son, we took you back when you were in the second grade. You got hit in the chest playing baseball. The hippie one, Bulas, looked you over. He said you’d be alright but to keep you out of sports until you developed more.”

I didn’t play organized athletics until I was 14 years old. My parents told me it was because I had allergies and I was too small. I grew angry, but not at him. I had ignored so many things.

“I know you can’t talk but just answer this then say something about the girls and hang up. Did you ever take me to a basketball court several blocks from the Stanton Hotel?”

My dad was a awful actor but he mumbled some plesasantries, then breathed deeply. I imagined him running his thick fingers over his wrinkled forehead, then running them over his mouth to show nervousness.

“Yeah, we shot some hoops, why?”

I brushed off his question and said goodbye. Memories started to flow. The doctor’s visits, the inactivity as a child, the excuses for being different than my friends. I walked into the basketball court. The green grass that grew tall through the asphalt cracks was turning brown. The boys turned to me and looked worried.

“Are we in trouble mister? You the police? You don’t look like police.”

I smiled and felt flattered.

“No. I played on this court a long time ago. I just wondered if you’d let me have a few shots?”

The boys looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and one of them bounced the ball to me. For the next few minutes I warmed to the November coolness by poorly shooting jumper after jumper. My chest felt good. I was gaining strength. The boys laughed at me. We taunted each other. Briefly, my life seemed carefree.

 A woman of medium height, dark skinned, pretty, around 35 years old; stood at the chain link fence entrance to the court. Her arms were crossed but she smiled, slightly. I addressed her.

“These your boys?”

She dropped her arms and the boys walked over to her.

“Yeah, I let them play here before dinner every night. The 9 year old takes care of the 11 year old for me while I get some peace in the house.”

I laughed and gave the oldest boy the basketball.

“I have three girls. The youngest, she’s in kindergarten, runs the house. I can relate.”

I followed them out of the court into the street. The boys started asking their mom questions about dinner, homework, television, and bedtimes. She turned to me.

“You from around here?”

I shook my head at the possibilities of the question. I looked at the boys.

“I was born here.  I live in Georgia. I guess you can say I’m in between places right now.”

She raised her eyebrows and put her arms around her sons.

“Home is where your kids are, man. That’s where you should always be. Take care of those girls.”

I waved goodbye to them and walked the rest of the way to Serendipity 3.

 I looked into the window of the restaurant and saw Breann, Lena, Clare, and Dr. Ober talking and laughing. I felt eyes looking at me but instead of turning around, I walked inside.

\///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

*blogger’s note* – This is another story episode. The rest of it is located here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/crazy-robot-stories/

This is based on a prompt from the good folk at http://www.studiothirtyplus.com aka Studio30Plus. The prompt was THE GREEN GRASS GROWS TALL.

Today’s song isn’t thematically accurate to the episode but a few lyrics are relatable. The song is symbolic of where Caleb’s head is at and it’s the song I had in my head while I was writing. Here’s Third Eye Blind’s Jumper.

Fall Down

Small hands covered by white surgical gloves cut inside my chest. He put the scalpel on the table and removed the soldering iron. Breann squeezed my left hand firmly. Her warm grip couldn’t distract me from the hurt and the peculiar, unmoved man. He was performing heart surgery in a room where I ate a grilled chicken sandwich, watched Sportscenter, took a nap, and chased away my ex girlfriend  in the past few hours. I looked at Breann and mouthed “spill”.

“You collapsed. Your, heart, our hearts, are failing quicker than we were told. This is Thurman Ober. He’s a scientist who is an expert on technological singularity. He’s spent over 40 years studying robotics and how the human body can handle them. After he gets you repaired, we’ll meet up with Lena, Clare, and Doctor Ober can tell us what Ava and the other doctors have left out.”

Breann nodded toward Ober. He began to stitch the wound. The pinching and pulling were painful.

I closed my eyes. For a few minutes, I  imagined being on a beach with Shane and the kids. It felt sure. I opened my eyes and saw Ober putting his tools into a large black duffel bag. Breann was standing over me opening unbuttoning her shirt.

“Breann, Ava was here earlier. At least she kept her clothes on. Give me a break, okay?”

She laughed until she winced. Her sleepy brown eyes watered. She opened her bluish blouse and pulled up her white bra slightly, revealing a scar smoother, more beige than the one that covered my chest

“Look at this scar. Dr. Ober fixed me two and a half hours ago. The stitches absorb into the skin. It will look a lot better soon. He says the skin grafts we’ll get during our surgeries will make this wound nonexistent. I’m kind of bummed. Scars are awesome.”

I tried to laugh but the pain was too new. I marveled at how much Breann and I were alike. I didn’t look forward to telling her what my family and I had decided. I looked away.

“Caleb, if you want to rest for an hour or so, we can meet up with Dr. Ober, Lena and Clare later. He lives near the Serendipity.”

I felt my heart beating. It was better than it had been in months. There was strength in the pound.

“Dr. Ober? What did you do to me?”

He recoiled from my question. He seemed intimidated. Breann started to speak and I put my hand up to stop her. He began talked meekly, but certain.

“Well, um, Caleb. I changed the opening mechanism on the main valve of your artifical heart. The metal shavings that the magnet centralized,  blocked the area where the valve opens at its greatest margin. When you have the entire mechanism replaced, it will be batterized. It will moved according to the ions a battery will put out. That battery should last for many decades.”

I shook my head in disbelief. Did everyone but me know how my heart worked? It was a question I’d asked myself since I was a teenager.

“I guess I should buy you a burger in a little while and you’ll be able to tell me a lot more?”

Ober looked at Breann, smiled slyly, then shook his head in agreement. I got up from the bed, walked over to Ober and shook his hand. It was so small that my normal sized hand looked giant. Breann walked him to the hotel room door.

I stumbled to the bay window, opened the curtains and revealed an orange, autumn sundown.

“Sorry I didn’t call or answer the phone. Lena and Clare got into New York earlier today. Clare fainted in the airport taxi. I met Lena at their hotel. By that time I had already run down Dr. Ober. I’ve been working on getting an interview with him for the Post’s website for months. He was standing in front of me on the street when Lena called. He worked on Clare, then Lena, then me. It’s temporary, but it’s better than the ridiculous magnet  Ava, Wicks and Todd came up with. “

I didn’t react as the pain from the stitching stifled my emotions.

“You want me to leave you alone? I know this whole thing is crazy, dude.”

My phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans and I reached for it. It showed Shane’s name.

“Hey baby. I just woke up, sort of. Can I call you back in a few minutes? We’re running behind with the meeting. It’s been a weird day. I love you.”

The sun dove behind more darkness. I could no longer avoid the conversation.

“I’m going to meet with you, Lena and Clare. I definitely want to hear Ober’s story. But, I’m scheduled for surgery January 3rd. Not in New York or Atlanta, but in Los Angeles. We want to follow Ava’s advice and deal directly with Anson Cluber and his people. “

Breann’s mouth opened slightly. Her posture disappeared. She seemed lost.

“Breann, I’m so….”

She picked up her black leather jacket, put it on with a fury. Her eyes looked like brown  fire. She began to spit her words.

“Don’t disrespect Shane and your girls! You are taking Ava’s advice! This, no, you, are really stupid! I’ll be at Serendipity 3 in an hour. If you aren’t there, you might as well smother yourself with those hotel pillows! You’ll be dead on the inside without me and what I know! I can’t believe you. You must not be the man I  thought you were. I guess that makes me stupid too.”

She picked up my t-shirt and threw it at me.

“Breann, you think I’m making a mistake become a cog in this Ava machine but….”

Her angry glare added a disappointing shoulder shrug and bewildered head shake.

“No, Caleb, you are Ava’s machine!”

She walked out of the room and slammed the door so hard, the alarm clock next to the bed fell off the nightstand. I leaned over to pick it up and saw the time, 6:00pm. Six.

*blogger’s note* This is another story episode. I have put the entire story here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/crazy-robot-stories/  Don’t worry Crazy Robot Stories is a working title.

Today’s song is something I heard on my way to gym, thinking about how Breann felt leaving the hotel room. In a way, this part of the story is about her more than Caleb so it’s her point of view. Here’s Toad the Wet Sprocket’s Fall Down…