More Ellis

Remember, this is all true.

Chapter Six

“Hello. Is this Ellis Hodgkins?”

“Who wants to know?”

“My name is Dan Levin. I’m a writer for Sports Illustrated.”

“Sure you are.”

“Seriously. We would like to feature you in an upcoming issue.”

“Why in hell would you want to do that?”

“Word has come to us about your prowess when hunting the bluefin tuna. We’re planning an article about the demise of the fishing grounds and seeing as how you were the one who kind of got the whole thing started, my editor and I thought you’d be the person to talk to. It’s as simple as that.”

“How did you hear about me?”

“We have a mutual friend by the name of Myron Birch. He’s been telling me about the legend of Captain Ellis for a while now. I finally did a little research into you, and lo and behold, he wasn’t shitting me. So what do you say? You wanna be written up in a big-time magazine?”

“I’ll have to think on it. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you back.”

Ellis was pretty sure the phone call was a put-up job instigated by one of his friends. However, the number did have a New York City area code. He called back later that day and was a bit surprised when a professional-sounding woman answered. “Time, Inc. How may I direct your call?”

“I’d like to speak with Dan Levin.”

“Yes, sir.”

A moment later, Ellis was speaking to Levin, “I guess you’re legit. How do you want to do this?”

Three weeks later, Levin and a photographer from Sports Illustrated met with Ellis at the Cape Ann Marina.

Levin spoke first. “Mr. Hodgkins, this is Peter Balasko. He’s my photographer. The plan is that we will follow you around for a week. I’ll be asking you questions and Pete will be taking pictures. How does that sound to you?”

Ellis had one question he needed answered before things went any further. “Who’s picking up the bar tab tonight?”

“We’re on an expense account, Mr. Hodgkins. Wherever you go for the next week is on us.”

Ellis smiled and said, “So what do you want to know?”

“We’re here to learn about you and bluefin tuna fishing. While researching you, I came across an article written in the Gloucester Times. It was about the time when you were fourteen and you caught a 750-pound tuna with a hand line. Why don’t you tell me about that and then we’ll progress from there.”

“I had forgotten all about that.”

“You forgot that you landed a 750 pound tuna?”

“No … I forgot about it being written up in the newspaper.”

So, the men from New York stayed a week in Gloucester. Besides interviewing Ellis and people who knew him, at night they would follow Ellis to his favorite haunts and sit at a nearby table listening in on the talk of the Cape Ann fisherman and his friends. They never overtly intruded into his life, and for that Ellis was grateful. For his part, he never took advantage of the Sports Illustrated purse. Even though they picked up the tab everywhere he went that week, Ellis was restrained in his ordering. He bought a round for the house only once.

Levin gathered what information he could and Balasko took pictures he deemed appropriate for the article. Two months later, it appeared in the November 18th, 1974 issue of Sports Illustrated magazine.

The lead sentence read as follows: Ellis Hodgkins stands in his doorway, huddled against the wind, squinting out to sea with his one good eye.

When the article came out, everyone in town loved it and hailed Ellis as a hero—everyone, that is, except his mother. She did not like the fact that it mentioned he had only one good eye.

“Why did you let them write that about your bad eye?” inquired his mother.

“I had no say in it. And besides, who cares?” answered Ellis.

That was Ellis. He had one rule that he lived by. It was a simple rule. He never broke it and he never strayed from its fundamental precept. To quote Ellis, “Who gives a fuck?” Or as stated in his high school year book: The Boy Least Likely to Give a Good Gosh Darn. It was 1953 after all. That was as explicit as they could get.

One thing all the Sports Illustrated hoopla brought home to bear, at least for Ellis, was the fact that the days of catching bluefin tuna—at least in the way he had done it—were over. The article made note that Ellis’ charters had gone from one hundred eighty-two catches of bluefin in one season to thirteen within a three-year span. It was time to move on.

He put his boat up for sale and informed the owner of the Volkswagen dealership that he was leaving town. It was nothing personal, but he was looking for new horizons. And besides, he had grown tired of the car business. He gave a two-month notice. His last day would be July 4th.

Ellis was an employee any boss would want to keep around. He had once suggested that the dealership should stay open on Christmas Eve.

“Maybe we can sell a car or two.”

“I can’t get any of the salesmen to stay here on Christmas Eve,” replied the owner.

“No need to. I’ll do it. You never know. Maybe someone will want to buy a car for a last-minute Christmas gift.”

Shaking his head at the dedication of his employee, the owner said, “Forget it, Ellis.”

A little while later, when Ellis started to get restless and make noises like he might be ready to move on to another profession, the owner handed him a blank check and told him to go get himself a boat. Ellis had sold the Cape Ann the previous fall.

“Go and do a little fishing and then come back.”

“How much do I spend?”

“Just get a boat that you like, catch yourself some damn fish, and then come back here and sell some cars for me.”

Now, two years later, here was Ellis announcing he was definitely leaving, the owner didn’t think anyone being paid as much as Ellis was would ever give up that kind of money. For the next sixty days, every time he saw Ellis, he would say, “You’re not leaving.” And every time Ellis would respond, “Yes, I am.”

On July 3rd, his boss observed him packing up his things and said to Ellis in a resigned voice, “I guess you are leaving.”

“I guess I am,” responded Ellis.

In the hopes that he would return, the dealership sent him a paycheck every week for one year and they kept him on their insurance program for the same amount of time. Ellis would call his ex-boss periodically and implore him to stop sending the checks. However, they kept coming every week for fifty-two weeks straight. Even long after Ellis had moved far from Gloucester.

His many friends and acquaintances threw him a going-away party, the likes of which were seldom seen in that neck of the woods. It was a massive affair—standing room only. Half the town showed up. Two days later, he packed up his conversion van and his current lady friend, Karla, and headed south.

Act II of Ellis Hodgkins’ life is about to commence.

Chapter Seven

His village sits at the mouth of the Touloukaera River. Touloukaera means life giving in the Tequesta language. Aichi is awake early this morn. It is still dark as he paddles his canoe across the short expanse of water that leads to the barrier island to the east.

Today he will build three fires on the beach for the purpose of giving thanks to Tamosi, The Ancient One—the God of his people. The fires must be lit before the dawn arrives. It has been a bountiful season. The men have caught many fish and killed many deer. The women of his village gathered enough palmetto berries, palm nuts, and coco plums to last until next season. There is an abundance of coontie root for the making of flour. Tomosi has been good to his people.

Tonight, the entire village will honor Tomosi. But this morning, Aichi will honor Him in a solitary way. Because tonight, at the celebration, he will wed Aloi, the most beautiful woman in the village. It took many seasons to win her heart, and now he must acknowledge Tomosi’s role in having Aloi fall in love with him.

He builds three fires to represent man’s three souls—the eyes, the shadow, and the reflection. When the fires are burning bright and the flames are leaping into the cool morning air in an effort to reach Tomosi, Aichi will face the ocean. With the fires behind him, he’ll kneel on the fine white sand and lower his head until his forehead meets the earth. He will then start to pray and will continue with his prayers until the sun rises out of the eastern sea. At that time, he will ask that he be shown an omen that his prayers have been heard.

The first rays of the awakened sun reflects off the white sand. Aichi raises his head and there before him is the sign Tomosi has sent him. Not a mile away, floating on the calm, blue ocean are three canoes of great size. He can see men walking on what looks like huts. He knows they are sent from Tomosi because they each have squares of white fluttering in the light breeze. White denotes The Ancient One. And if that were not enough, no men paddle the massive canoes. They are moving under their own power, traveling north to the land where Tomosi lives. The men upon those canoes must not be men at all. They are the souls of the dead being taken to the heaven of the righteous.

Aichi leaps to his feet and runs along the shoreline trying to keep abreast of the canoes. But in time, he falls behind and soon they drop below the horizon. What a wondrous day this is. He has communed with his god and tonight he will wed Aloi. With joy in his heart, Aichi runs back to his canoe. He must tell the people of his village what he has seen.

What Aichi has seen are not spirit canoes. They are three ships from the fleet commanded by Juan Ponce de León. He is sailing along the coast of a peninsular he has named Florido which means “full of flowers.” He is in search of gold to bring back to his king. He has also heard from the Indians to the south that somewhere to the north lies a spring of clear water that if one drinks from it, one would have eternal youth. To bring a cask of that water back to Spain would make him a rich man indeed. The year is 1513 A.D.

Aichi and Aloi produce many children and grandchildren. But to no avail. The coming of the Spaniards has decimated the Tequesta. Most have died of the diseases brought by the white man. Others were captured and sold into slavery. By the year 1750, the village by the river that celebrated Tomosi’s largess in the year 1513 is abandoned and overgrown with plant life.

In the spring of 1788, the Spanish drive the Creek and Oconee Indians south to the land once populated by the Tequesta. The Spanish refer to the bands of Indians as Cimarrons, which means Wild Ones. The Americans to the north bastardize the name and call the Indians, Seminoles.

In 1789, a band of Seminoles, tired of running from the Spanish, inhabit the place on the river where the Tequesta once lived. They name the river, Himmarasee, meaning “New Water.” They live in relative peace for twenty-seven years. But at the outbreak of The First Seminole War, the Seminoles move their village farther west and into the Everglades to keep out of the white man’s reach.

In 1821, Spain cedes Florida to the United States, and the Americans begin surveying and mapping their new territory. Over time, the shifting sands of the barrier island caused the mouth of the river to empty into the Atlantic Ocean at different points along the coast. As the coastline was periodically charted, the surveyors—not understanding the effects of the shifting sand on the river’s behavior—thought that the various entry points were “new” rivers; hence, each time the land was surveyed, the map makers would make the notation “new river” on the updated chart.

The 1830 census lists seventy people living in and around the “New River Settlement.”

In the year 1838, at the beginning of The Second Seminole War, Major William Lauderdale and his Tennessee Volunteers are ordered to build a stockade to protect the settlers along what has become known as The New River. He selects a location of firm and level ground at the mouth of the river where once the Tequesta and Seminoles had built their villages.

The fort is decommissioned after only a few months. Two months later, the Seminoles burn it to the ground. The fort is now gone, but the name remains.

There are no roads into Fort Lauderdale until 1892, when a single road linking Miami to the south and Lantana to the north is cut out of the mangroves. In 1911, Fort Lauderdale is incorporated into a city.

During the 1920s, there is a land boom in South Florida. Everybody and his brother is buying land. When the most desired land runs out, developers make acres of new land by dredging the waterways and using the sand and silt thus obtained to make islands where future houses will one day stand.

Because of its natural geography and the dredging that went on in the ’20s, Fort Lauderdale has become known as the American Venice. There are countless canals, both large and small. Most houses on those canals have a boat tied up behind it. And many of those who do not live on a canal have boats sitting in marinas or sitting on a trailer in their backyards.

In 1974, twelve percent of the population of Broward County, in which Fort Lauderdale lies, make a direct living off the boating industry. Another twenty percent benefit indirectly.

Into this world Ellis Hodgkins descends … trailing Karla in his wake.

 

 

 

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Zoe Shares Her Space…

My kind of poetry.

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

Dear friends, I hope you don’t mind, but my human, Emily, apparently needs some attention. She asked if she could take my spot this month to show off share something she wrote recently. I thought, Yeah, why not? I can use a break. So, I’m sharing my space so she can share her poem. And, without further ado, here it is. Now excuse me . . . I’m going to go chill out in my condo.

Unjust Desserts

Sitting cross-legged on a concrete bench

Taking in the action just beyond the fence

He watches the bustle, pinstripes abound

And children playing, they fall on the ground

Miniskirts taunt him, smiles on a face

Tease him with heels and a hint of lace

No girl in his corner, no warm memories

Of deep secret kisses or silky panties

He wants to be cool, he wants to take part

Something is hurting…

View original post 135 more words

The Saga of Ellis Continues

Note: This is all true.

Chapter Four

In the year of our Lord, 1700, it’s a gentle breeze that pushes the small sailing ship southwest, towards the northern coast of Cape Ann. The master and owner of the ship is John Lane who, together with his wife and children, is coming from Falmouth, Maine, after being run out by Indians during the First Indian War. It is a new century and a new beginning for the Lane family.

As the ship approaches land, John sees the dense forests he had been told about. His plan is to first clear a parcel in which to build their house. Then he and his sons will fell trees and sell the wood for the making of ships. There certainly is no shortage of raw material.

The ship anchors ten miles north of Gloucester Town, off Flatstone Cove. John and his eldest son, James, row a small dory to the shoreline. There is no beach, no soft white sand to set foot upon. The coast, as is the entire island, is made of granite. There is a small hill overlooking the cove, and it is there that Lane decides to build his house. The family will live onboard the boat until the house is inhabitable.

By 1704, John Lane had been given a grant of ten acres in and around the cove. It has been four years since the Lane family set foot upon the rocky shoreline. There were six children in the Lane clan when they landed, now there are nine. Before they are finished, John and his wife, Dorcas, will have brought a total of twelve new souls into the world. Not all of them will make it to adulthood, but enough of them do so. The land is eventually named Lanesville. And, in time, Flatstone Cove becomes known as Lane’s Cove. So it went, generation after generation of Lanes populating the northern region of the island known as Cape Ann.

• • • •

The year is 1974. The place: Cape Ann Marina.

Ellis and Wayne have just come in from a day of tuna fishing. The men who had charted the Cape Ann for the day are a happy lot. They got themselves a tuna—almost 800 pounds. By now, the Japanese had discovered the tuna-rich fishing grounds off Gloucester. And any fish they could not catch themselves, they bought from the local fishermen. The price had risen from the three cents of Ellis’ youth to six dollars per pound. There’s a lot of sushi sold in Japan.

After having taken numerous pictures with their prize, Ellis’ customers gave him the tuna, as a tip, to dispose of as he saw fit. He sold it to a Japanese buyer for $4,800.00—without having to leave the dock. He split the cash with Wayne and he headed over to the bar.

Everybody in Gloucester knew Ellis, and that included all the people in the bar that evening. It took him a few minutes to respond to all the salutations he received as he walked through the door. It was a big room and he had to make the rounds, shaking hands with the men and winking at the women. Luckily, the barmaid knew his poison, and it was waiting for him when he finally sat down on the barstool.

He sipped his drink slowly. It was early and he was wound up from the day’s adventures. He thought he’d have one more drink and then order dinner. After that, he’d see how things panned out. It had been a good day. And with money in his pocket and a gleam in his eye, he was looking to make it a good night as well.

As Ellis sat on his stool contemplating his drink and looking in the mirror behind the bar, a vision of loveliness caught his eye. She had legs that just would not quit. Her hair was auburn, her eyes green, and her smile brought joy to the hearts of men. She was a direct descendant of John Lane.

“Who’s that girl?” he asked the barmaid.

“She’s the new waitress.”

“Why haven’t I seen her before?”

“Probably because she’s the new waitress,” came the sarcastic reply.

“You know what I mean. I know every female on this island between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five and I’ve never seen her before. What’s her name?”

“It’s Laura … something. Wait. Now I remember—it’s Laura Lane.”

“Where is she from?”

“Jeeze, Ellis. You want her phone number and bra size too? I was just introduced to her when I came on shift. You can do your own dirty work. I got drinks to serve.”

The young barmaid walked away in a huff. Probably because she was an ex-lover of the man who was asking all the questions about another woman.

Ellis moved to the end of the bar, to the serving area where the waitresses picked up their drink orders. It was a safe bet he’d be able to get in a few words while the beauty was waiting for her orders to be filled.

He let her come and go twice before he said anything. He was letting the line run out. On her third trip back, after she had just placed an order for two vodka martinis on the rocks and a draft beer, Ellis tried to set the hook.

“Hi. My name’s Ellis. I’ve been watching you and I gotta say that you are sensational. I’m not trying to hit on you or anything. I just want you to know that I think you are beautiful.”

The girl smiled, and her eyes grew wide. “I know who you are. Everybody knows who you are.”

Ellis thought, This is going to be easy. But before he could go on with his spiel, the girl continued. “And everyone knows that you are the horniest hound dog around. You’ve bedded three of my girlfriends that I know of, but … I must admit … they all speak quite highly of you. And that’s amazing, seeing as how you dumped each of them after a few romps in the sack.”

Just then her order was placed before her. She put the drinks on a small tray and departed without saying another word.

The hook had not been fully set.

Well, it might not be that easy, thought Ellis. But it may be a lot of fun trying.

When she came back, Ellis asked, “Wanna have dinner with me some night?”

In spite of herself, Laura was attracted to the smiling man who looked straight into her eyes. After she gave her drink order to the barmaid, she said, “If dinner is all you have in mind, then I see no reason to decline your kind offer.”

“That’s great. When is your next night off?”

“I’m off Mondays and Tuesdays. Take your pick.”

“I think Mondays are the best day of the week to sit down to dinner with a beautiful woman.”

Laura blushed at the compliment. She wrote her phone number on a bar napkin and handed it to Ellis. “Call me Monday afternoon to confirm. For all I know, you’ll be entangled with some other woman by then.”

With a light laugh, Ellis replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll fit you in somehow.”

Laura rolled her eyes and said, “I would appreciate that considerably,” before leaving with her drink order.

Monday finally rolled around, and Ellis, after having called to ascertain the address and confirm that he was still looking forward to seeing her, was at Laura’s apartment at eight on the dot.

Ellis held the car door open for her. As she slid in, he once again appreciated her long legs. He took her to a small and intimate place on Rogers Street, owned by a friend of his. Out back there was an enclosed garden with one table—“Ellis’ Table.” When Ellis walked through the door with Laura, the proprietor welcomed him as a long-lost friend and escorted them to Ellis’ private dining room.

It was a warm summer night and the scent of flowers filled the air. Colorful Japanese lanterns adorned the walls of the garden and soft music emanated from unseen speakers. No menus were presented, only a bottle of crisp, dry white wine.

While the waiter uncorked the bottle, Ellis said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I called ahead and ordered our dinner. And I hope you like white wine. I’m not big on the red stuff. But you can have whatever you’d like.”

“No, white is fine. What’s for dinner?”

“Why not be surprised?”

Laura consented to be surprised and shyly sipped her wine.

“Okay. Now that we have that out of the way, tell me about yourself.”

Ellis had downed his wine in two gulps. He was a little nervous. He raised the wine bottle out of the ice bucket and refilled his glass.

Looking at Ellis from over the rim of her wine glass, Laura countered, “Most men like to talk about themselves. Why don’t you go first?”

“You’ve already told me that you knew all about me. I’m the horny hound dog, remember? So, I’d like to know a little something about you. For instance, how long have you lived in Gloucester? Where do you come from? And how did you get to be so goddamn beautiful?”

Laura put her glass down and thought for a moment before answering.

This guy’s on the make alright. This place would soften up any woman. Stay on your toes, Laura girl. He’s just asking about you to put you off your guard. I have to admit, he’s done everything right so far. But just remember that he only wants to get into your pants. Enjoy the meal, enjoy your night out, and then have him drive you straight home. No going over to his place for a nightcap.

“Well, Ellis, I’ve only lived in this part of Gloucester for a few weeks now. But I was born on the island. In fact, my family has been on Gloucester since the year 1700. You ever been up to Lanesville?”

“Many times.”

“That’s where I’m from.”

“Why haven’t I ever seen you before?”

“Probably because you don’t hang out at high schools all that much. You’re about ten years older than I am. When I was in school you were down here doing your fishing … for both tuna—and the way I hear it—women. When I graduated high school, I went off to college. I’m home for the summer now, but there’s no work up in Lanesville or the vicinity. I thought it would be cool to go to Gloucester and get a job. I didn’t want to commute, so I got myself an apartment down here. It’s small but cozy. There you have it. My whole life story.”

Ellis refilled her glass and said, “Not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t told me how you got to be so goddamn beautiful.”

Laura laughed and said, “You’re too much, Ellis.” Ellis tilted his wine glass toward her in a silent toast and said, “I try to be.” Then they talked about this and they talked about that. Small talk mostly, until dinner was served. During dinner, Ellis confessed that his family had also settled in the area during the 1700s. “But a little later than yours. I think it was about 1750 or thereabouts.”

They lingered over dinner, enjoying the food, the company, and the conversation.

On the way back to Laura’s apartment, Ellis was talkative, but did not mention stopping by his apartment for a nightcap or anything else of that sort. He asked questions about her family history and seemed genuinely interested in her answers. At her place, he again opened the car door for her and escorted her to her apartment.

Here it comes, she thought. He’s going to ask to come in “for just a little while.”

However, he did no such thing. Instead, he held out his hand and shook hers, saying, “I’ve had a wonderful evening, Laura, and I’ve enjoyed your company. Goodnight.”

With a perplexed look on her face, Laura watched Ellis’ retreating figure as he descended the stairs.

He didn’t even try to kiss me goodnight. Maybe I was wrong about him. Either that or he didn’t like me.

She got out her key and let herself into the apartment. After making sure the door was locked, she leaned against it and was stunned to realize she was a little disappointed that Ellis had not made a move on her.

Chapter Five

Five days went by before Laura heard from Ellis again. It was over the phone that he asked her, “Tomorrow is Monday and I was wondering if you’d like to shoot a little pool?”

Laura smiled into the phone before answering. He’s interested in me after all.

“I don’t know how to play pool.”

“Neither do I. So don’t worry about it. There’s an Irish pub right down the block from you. Perhaps you’ve seen the green and white sign. The name’s Mulroney’s.”

“I’ve seen the sign, but I’ve never been in there.”

“They also have dartboards and they make the best hamburgers in town. If you’re free, I thought we could meet there about sevenish. We could play a few racks and throw a few darts while drinking draft Guinness. Then we’ll have us some hamburgers and call it an early night. I’ve got a charter Tuesday morning.”

“Sounds like it might be fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They met at the prescribed time, played the aforementioned games, and consumed said beer and burgers. In the course of the evening, they got to know one another on a slightly deeper level. Even though things were lighthearted, or maybe because no one was trying to impress anyone, they let their true selves show through. And they both liked what they saw.

Ellis was quiet as he walked Laura back to her place. He hadn’t meant to feel this way. At first he was just out to bed a beautiful woman. And that was all. But a monkey wrench had been thrown into the mix. She had turned out to be more than a set of long legs and a pretty face.

She’s smart and fun to be around and so much more. This one, Ellis old buddy, you’ve got to treat a little differently. You’ve got to show a little respect.

“What are you thinking about, Ellis?”

“I was just thinking. Seeing as how you’ve got the day off, I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place tomorrow night and have dinner. I haven’t told you before, but I’m a gourmet cook. I’ll dazzle you with my cooking.”

If it had not been for the first two dates with Ellis where he behaved as a perfect gentleman, Laura would have declined the invitation. But now … she wasn’t so sure she would mind Ellis getting into her pants.

“Sounds like fun. What time?”

“We dine at eight. I live on T Wharf over in Rockport. There’s a long staircase on the outside of the building going up to my place. You can’t miss it. But if you do, just ask anyone to point the way to Captain Ellis. You’ll find me.”

At her door, Ellis did not ask to come in … or shake her hand. He leaned into her and gave her a kiss on the cheek and then he was gone.

Ellis had some work to do before the next night. Rockport was a dry town. That meant no bars, no liquor stores, no nothing. Hence, his apartment became the de facto place to hang out at night. There was always a crowd. The young guys came to have a few drinks and watch the Celtics or Bruins play. Or if the season was right, the Boston Patriots. The young girls came because that’s where the boys were. There was a party happening every night up in his apartment, regardless if Ellis was there or not.

He passed the word around that his apartment was off limits for one night. If anyone felt the need to hang out, they could drive down to Gloucester. It was only ten minutes away.

Laura showed up a few minutes after eight. Ellis met her at the door with his signature smile. “Please come in. Did you have any trouble finding me?”

“Nope. You’re right where you said you’d be.”

He sat her on the couch and said, “I’ll be right back.”

He came back holding two glasses of wine, one of which he held out to Laura.

“Thank you,” she said.

Ellis sat down on the couch, but not right next to Laura. He sat at the other end so that he could turn sideways and look at her as they spoke.

They sipped their wine in silence for a few minutes, and then Laura asked, “What’s for dinner?”

“I want to surprise you again.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, thank you. I’ve got it covered.”

Laura looked around the apartment, and just for something to say, remarked, “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Yeah. I had to pay one of the neighborhood girls to clean it while I was out fishing today. I didn’t want you to see me in my natural habitat.”

She laughed nervously. She was feeling differently toward Ellis. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But then it dawned on her. What if he doesn’t make a pass at me tonight? How am I’m going to feel about that?

Being the straightforward type, she decided to get it out in the open before dinner. She could deal with whatever the answer was, but she wanted it out of the way before she ate or else the food would lay heavy in her stomach. No matter how good it was.

She steeled herself, took a deep swallow of wine and then blurted out, “What’s the matter with me?”

Ellis was taken aback. “As far as I can see, nothing.”

“I mean, why haven’t you tried to talk me out of my clothes?”

“Do you want me to talk you out of your clothes?”

“Yes. I mean, no! But it would help my ego if you’d at least try.”

Ellis smiled a crooked smile and put his wine glass down on the coffee table. He moved over and took the glass out of her hand and placed it next to his. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand and said, “I’ve held off because you’re special.”

Looking into her bottomless green eyes, he leaned over and softly … gently … kissed her. She responded. All their pent-up inhibitions dissipated as they caressed one another. They were free. Ellis whispered in her ear, “The hell with it.” He stood and scooped her off the couch and carried her to his bedroom. Still holding her in his arms, he kicked the bedroom door closed with his right foot.

Two hours later, when the door next opened, they emerged with contented glows on their faces. Laura sat on the couch while Ellis went to retrieve the bottle of wine. Once their glasses were replenished, Laura inquired, “I suppose your dinner is ruined by now.”

“Not by a longshot.”

Ellis reached for the phone sitting on the coffee table. With the receiver in hand, he dialed a number from memory. “Hello. Tony’s Pizza? This is Captain Ellis. I’d like the large deluxe, the one with everything on it. Of course, with anchovies.”

When he had finished with Tony’s, Ellis lifted his glass toward Laura and said, “Here’s to you, Beautiful.”

“Not so fast, Captain Ellis. Didn’t you promise me a gourmet dinner?”

“I promised you a dinner. I said I was a gourmet cook, but I lied. What are you gonna do about it?”

“This is what.”

Still holding her wine, Laura wrapped her arms around Ellis’ neck—spilling a little wine in the process—and gave him a great big kiss right on the lips.

“What are you going to do about that?” she wanted to know.

“As soon as we get the pizza out of the way, I’ll show you.”

The summer of ’74 was the time that Ellis came the closest to being hooked, reeled in, and put on display. Even though their schedules were different—he worked days, she nights—they spent as much time together as possible.

During the days that Ellis had no charter, he’d take Laura out on the Cape Ann ostensibly to teach her to fish. However, very little fishing was ever attempted. Laura always packed a picnic lunch and Ellis brought a cooler of beer. They would anchor a few miles out and enjoy the warm sun on their bodies, each other, and the vast expanse of blue ocean that lay before them. Those were idyllic days.

A few years back, a woman had spied Ellis walking out of a restaurant and approached him. “Hello. My name is Patty Sullivan and I’m kind of a talent coordinator. Have you ever thought of modeling?”

Ellis grinned and said, “You gotta be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. I can get you what’s called catalogue work. Most male models are what I call soft-handsome. You have a rugged look about you. You’d be perfect for catalogues that are selling manly items. Like hunting gear, cars, that sort of thing.”

“How much does it pay?”

“By industry standards, not a whole lot. But it’s more than an average Joe makes in a day. Besides, it’s not hard work. All you’ve got to do is stand there and look ruggedly handsome.”

What the hell? It might be fun, thought Ellis. He agreed to give it a shot as long as it didn’t interfere with his charter business.

That’s how Ellis became a model, and modeling is what landed Ellis a spot as an extra in a film starring Liza Minelli and directed by Otto Preminger. The movie was called Tell Me You Love Me, Julie Moon.

When Ellis got the call from Patty asking him if he was interested in playing a man sitting at a table in a restaurant while the stars of the movie cavorted around him, he had two questions: How much does it pay? And can my girl be in it too?

“It pays a little more than you’d get for a day’s modeling. And I’m told the shoot shouldn’t take more than two hours. But it could go on longer. As to your second question, I had to send over your picture to the movie people for their approval. But knowing you, Ellis, I’m sure the girl is a knockout. So I’ll set it up.”

Ellis only agreed to participate because he thought Laura would get a kick out of it. It would give her something interesting to tell her friends about when she went back to college in the fall. Little did he suspect that he would dominate her conversations with her girlfriends when she returned to school.

By happenstance, the part of the movie that Ellis and Laura were to be in was being filmed at The Blacksmith Shop restaurant located right next door to Ellis’ apartment. A crew member seated them at a table on an aisle. They were told to look like they were in a deep conversation as the camera was wheeled past them. The setup was that the camera would go down the aisle and end up taking a shot of the harbor through a big plate glass window at the back of the restaurant.

As people ran around setting up for the shot, making sure the lighting was perfect, that the microphone was set properly, and all the other things that go into making a movie, Ellis noticed that where he was sitting was a little narrower than the rest of the aisle. The camera just wouldn’t fit through the gap. So, Ellis being Ellis, he stood up and moved the table back a foot or two.

Well. You would have thought that he had kidnapped the Lindbergh baby, killed Cock Robin, and any other number of sundry things. Otto Preminger came storming down the aisle, yelling and screaming. “Don’t you dare touch anything! You do nothing unless I tell you!” And on and on he went. He moved the table back to its original position and with a final omniscient glare in Ellis’ direction, stomped off to his director’s chair.

Ellis said nothing. When the tirade was over, he looked across the table at Laura and winked.

Eventually, the camera operator was ready, the sound man was ready, the movie stars were ready, and most importantly, Mr. Otto was ready.

“Action!” yelled the director.

The camera started on its way down the aisle. When it got to Ellis’ table, its movement was halted. It couldn’t fit through the gap between the tables. Ellis shrugged and Laura laughed. Preminger sent the assistant director to move the table back to where Ellis had placed it, and the filming resumed with no further mishaps.

Laura quit her job in late August so she could spend more time with Ellis before she had to go back to college. Ellis thought that was just dandy and whisked her off for a romantic week in Bermuda. While on the island, Laura broached the subject of continuing the relationship while she was away.

They were walking along the beach, holding hands. The water was topaz-blue, the white sand scrunched under their feet, the sunlight warmed the two lovers as Laura began to speak. “This summer has been the best time of my life, Ellis. What do you think? Do you want to keep it going? We can write each other and keep in touch. I’ll be back in just a few months for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Maybe you could come to Lanesville and meet my parents.”

Ellis tightened his grip on her hand. He had a deep affection for the beautiful redhead walking next to him. She was wonderful. She was intelligent, fun to be with, a sensual lover, and best of all, she laughed at his lame jokes as though she really found them funny.

He sighed and told her the truth. “Baby, you are the best. You can have any man you want and I am so flattered that you want to be with me. But I’m not the marrying kind. I like you too much to bullshit you. We’ve had a wonderful summer and I will always remember it. In later years, when you’re surrounded by your children and grandchildren, I’ll have only my memories of this summer … and of you. I’ll never forget you and I’ll always love you. But you have to steer a different course than the one I’m on. To come onboard with me would only break your heart in the long run. Can you understand that?”

Laura looked into Ellis’s eyes and saw the love he had for her. A love that would let her go rather than lie to her. A love that treated her as an equal, a love that was profound and perhaps never ending.

Now it was Laura’s turn to sigh. “When I am surrounded by all those kids and grandkids, and even though my husband will be standing next to me, within my heart there will be a small place for you and this wonderful summer that you have given me.”

When they returned to Gloucester, Laura spent one last night with Ellis. They made slow and sweet love all night long, knowing that it was to be the last time.

The next morning, Laura said her final good-bye to Ellis.

He never saw her again.

 

Book Promo – ‘My Vibrating Vertebrae’ by Agnes Mae Graham…

I love this book.

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

We all have dreams, loves and hopes; but what if you are a girl growing up in 20th century Northern Ireland before, during and after the ‘Troubles’?

From the poetic thoughts of Agnes Mae Graham, we get a sense of what it was like, ranging from humour, sadness, wistful thinking and sometimes just downright nonsensical, these are the words of one such girl.

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Colleen’s #Book #Reviews – “Bedtime Stories for Grown-Up’s,” by Author, Andrew Joyce

Colleen Chesebro✨The Fairy Whisperer✨

  • Title: Bedtime Stories for Grownups
  • Amazon Author Page: Andrew Joyce
  • File Size: 4797 KB
  • Print Length: 689 Pages
  • Publisher: W. Birch & Assoc.
  • Publication Date: September 21, 2017
  • Sold By: Amazon Digital Services LLC
  • Language: English
  • ASIN: B075V8XNTC
  • ISBN-10: 0998119350
  • ISBN-13: 978-0998119359
  • Formats: Paperback and Kindle
  • Goodreads
  • Genres: Anthologies & Literature Collections

    *I was given a pre-publication copy of this book by the author for review purposes*

IN THE AUTHOR’S WORDS:

“Bedtime Stories for Grown-Ups is a jumble of genres—seven hundred pages of fiction and non-fiction … some stories included against the author’s better judgment. If he had known that one day they’d be published, he might not have been as honest when describing his past. Here is a tome of true stories about the author’s criminal and misspent youth, historical accounts of the United States when She was young, and tales of imagination encompassing every conceivable variety—all presented…

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Remembering – Danny Goes to the Beach – Guest Post by, Andrew Joyce…

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

My name is Andrew Joyce and I used to have a partner in crime until he set off for loftier environs. His name was Danny and he was a pretty good writer … for a dog. And he had many fans. Below is a picture of him with the Miami chapter of his fan club.

Anyway, I thought I might share with you one of Danny’s favorite stories. I still remember the day he writes about like it was yesterday … but it was eight years ago. Danny remembered it too. That’s why he told the tale that you are about to read.

Danny Goes to the Beach

What a time I had yesterday. I went to the beach!

I like to wake Andrew up early and take him for his walk before it gets too hot out. And I like our walks because there’s a whole lotta good sniffing…

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