A to Z – April – 2026 – E

E is for Empire State Building

Making a plan, having certain expectations, taking that leap of faith that all of us are destined to do at least once, I found myself standing at the top of the Empire State Building, on the last day of the twelfth month, exactly five years after making a promise in exactly the same place, I would be there.

There was a 3 pm in there, but that was flexible, because I always liked to be early.

It had been after high school graduation, after the prom, every bit the magical moment it was meant to be, with the girl of my dreams, Margaret Cates.  We had spent those last years of high school together, studying hard, each helping the other achieve the grades needed to enter the best University.

There was no talk of romance, of a life together, or anything other than of being brought together, almost inseparable.  We were voted the most likely to be married and living contentedly in a house with a picket fence and three children.

Expectations were what parents had, and both of our parents were best friends, who simply chose to believe the inevitable would happen.  Graduation, a combined family trip to New York to see the sights, culminating in New Year’s Eve at the top of the Empire State Building.

That was where we made the promise, no matter what, we would reconvene, that was Margaret’s word, at the same time.  It was also the first time we kissed, and I think it took a week before my heart rate went back to normal.

Soon after that, Margaret left.  She had been accepted into her university of choice.  Her parents were surprised, and my parents were in shock. 

I was not.  It was the plan.  Margaret had a plan for everything. There was no plan with me in it.  Not in those first five years.  I was sad but not devastated.

I said to my parents, if we were meant to be, she would come back.  I had to set her free.

My plan was there was no plan.  I got the grades, and I got accepted into my University of choice.

At the end of the second year, I was in a what could only be described as a car crash, and was badly injured, to the extent that I had to put my life on hold.

I would recover, not one hundred per cent but enough to continue whatever path I’d chosen, but with some limitations.  The doctor was upbeat, and my parents were upbeat.

I went home, not quite in the manner I’d intended.  I was assured that life was like that, and I had to accept, accident or no accident, life was full of unexpected challenges.

Summer Atkins was probably the most irritating, aggravating, and ingratiating person on the planet.

She lived next door, one of five girls, the eldest, and coincidentally in my grade at high school.  In fact, she was in all the grades from Elementary.

She was gawky, awkward, loud and clumsy.  It was not her fault.  She had a kind heart, always the first to volunteer for the worst jobs, and suffered a lot at the hands of the boys and the girls, too.

I was not pleased to say when I looked back at my time that I was one of them, and probably the only one who apologised after the prom for what had been, at times, unforgivable.  The prank for the prom was probably her lowest point.

It took a week before she would come out of her room, and I came over every day to join the few who actually cared about her.  After Margaret left and before I followed, we spent time together, where she asked me what she needed to do to just get to talk to a guy like me.

I thought it strange.  She was talking to me, I was talking to her, we had coffee and cake at the diner and hung out.  She had no aspirations to go to college, just to help her parents look after her siblings and work in the diner.  I had suggested she might want to do something for herself, and she looked at me strangely.  I did not, she said, understand her.

We parted awkwardly, with this thing I had done, but what it was, I had no idea.  It ended when she told me that if I was waiting for Margaret, I would be waiting a long time.  How did she know anything about what my expectations were?

I came back home under the radar.  I didn’t want anyone to know because I had set myself a high bar, and I was never going to reach it.

I felt that I had become a disappointment to my parents, and while they put on a brave face, and my siblings were polite, it was clear that they were happy for me to hide away, and my siblings were happy to see the high flyer crash and burn.  Kid would be kids, I expected no less.

So when Summer unexpectedly knocked on the door, a certain element of panic went through the house.  Upstairs, I heard that voice drift up the stairs with mixed emotions.  I wanted to see her, but I didn’t want to see her.

Not like this.  It was an odd feeling, and I couldn’t understand what fuelled it.  It was Summer, she wouldn’t care, more likely revel in the fact.  How the mighty had fallen.

My mother answered the door.

“Mrs Abercrombie, you look tired?”  The grating tone had gone, her voice had softened, and there was genuine concern in it.

“It’s…”

She caught herself before mentioning my name.  It had been a secret for about a month.  I was surprised Summer had not called earlier.

My mother shifted the topic.  She was good at that.  “How is your father?  That latest bout of chemotherapy cannot be helping the diner.”

“He’s responding to the treatment, and we’re managing.  How are you faring without Allen?  I’m sorry I should have come over more often.”

“It’s fine.  We’re all coping with life as best we can.”

“How is Allen, if I may ask?”

That was Summer.  Gets the bit between her teeth and doesn’t let go.

My mother was not one to lie.  Obfuscate but not lie.  Not outright.  But confronted…

“Something’s wrong,” she said in a hushed voice, so low I couldn’t barely hear her.  I could virtually see my mother’s face.  It had always been expressive.  It’s why she could never play poker.

It went quiet for a minute or two, and I knew it was time to brace myself.  Summer was the last person I wanted to see, perhaps the only one other than Margaret, not that I expected her to drop everything.

Again, I couldn’t explain why, other than showing vulnerability. 

A few minutes passed while I was hoping my mother would explain that I didn’t want to see anyone, that I wanted to be better before facing the outside world.  Whether Summer would accede to a request if leaving me alone was moot.

If she knew I was there, she would not hesitate to come up and remind me of the Allen of old, with the shoe now firmly on the other foot.

I tried hiding under the covers, but she had X-ray eyes.  I knew she was in the room; I could feel her presence.  And the scent she used was a hint of primrose.  Once it was far stronger, but I suspect she had mastered the art of cosmetic use.

“You will suffocate long before I leave, Allen.  I’m not the same girl you left behind.  I don’t hate you.  I did for a while, but then I realised you cared when all the rest didn’t.  I’m sorry we parted angry.”

She sounded reasonable, far more reasonable than I expected.  She should have still been angry, if not with me, but with the others.

“OK.  If you don’t come out, I’ll get in there with you.  You know me well enough to know I will.”

Did I know her well enough?  I never took the opportunity.  No one wanted to because she didn’t fit the other girls’ profile.  It wasn’t like that at University, there it was simply a competition.  There was dating, but it was more convenient than romance.  There were not many hours left in a day for extracurricular activities.

When I peeled back the covers, it was like seeing an angel, the sun shining in the window, throwing a glow over her.  Summer had changed from the awkward, ugly duckling into a graceful Swan.

A look of concern crossed her face.  Just lifting the covers was a difficult task, like most normal movements we all took for granted.  It was getting easier and less painful, but it would take time.

“What happened to you?”

“A car and I had a disagreement.  It won.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me.  How long have you been here?  What do you need? Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

Summer basically glued me back together.  It was, she said, one of her projects, others minding the children of silly sisters, nursing her farther past cancer, keeping up her waitress job at the diner, and just being Summer, the girl who always pitched in.

Such was the value of her help that my mother said I should marry her before someone else snapped her up.  Just before I was to go back to University, I did just that, but she rejected me.

There was someone else, and he was going to propose any day.

I could respect that.  Whatever I thought she might think of me, I would forever be one of those boys who made her life hell.  I didn’t deserve someone like her.  I just got on the train and left.

But the truth was, I was never the same again.

How could I?

I had tried to tell Margaret, but the terms of the pact were clear.  5 years, do your thing, meet and discuss.  If feelings were the same, who knew what might happen?

I was disappointed I hadn’t been able to find her, but I had a story to tell.

A year after returning, I gave it up.  I didn’t have the same enthusiasm, and feeling like a failure, I didn’t go home.  I simply pretended everything was fine and moved to New York and found work in a rather offbeat bookshop in Queens.

It fuelled my love of literature, and after reading anything and everything, I started writing my version of the Great American Novel.  Small-town boy makes it big in the big city.  A bit like my life, really.

Which brings us back to the Empire State Building.

3pm.

And Margaret.

I saw her and thought she was coming to the spot.  She looked different, older, smarter, and with a touch of elegance and sophistication.

Halfway, I saw her smile and then wrap her arms around this bear of a man whom I instantly recognised.  I mean, you would have to live under a rock not to know him.

Her parents were there, and a bunch of media people.  The oohs and ahhs told me it was the moment he went down on one knee; it was going to be a News At 6 moment.

I was but a distant memory, forgotten in her moment of agreeing to be Mrs Albert Johnstone Gerythorn III.

I guess the employee of an eclectic bookshop was hardly a match for a multi-billionaire, or one who was soon to be.

“Sucks to be you.”

It did.  That voice, the one that had grated on my nerves nearly all of my school years, came from behind me.

I knew who it was.  I didn’t turn around.

“I knew it was a mistake to tell you my innermost secrets.”

“Oh, I would not have missed this for the world.”

I felt her hand slip into mine and her body move closer. 

“Five years is a long time.  People change.”

“People like us change, Allen.  People like her do not.”

“I thought you were getting married?”

“So did I.  I guess we were both wrong.  Found that cute little bookshop of yours.  If I didn’t know you better, I’d be guessing you’ve started that great American novel.  Am I right or am I right?”

“You know me too well.  You want to stay, or shall we find another circus, something a little more our style?”

“Do we have one?”

“Of course.  Everyone has style.”

Then I noticed Margaret was coming towards us, a rather serious expression on her face.  Had she finally recognised me?

“Excuse me, but the photographers would like to get some photos of my fiancée and me by this corner.  It would be most appreciated.”

No.  No sign of recognition.

Summer instead smiled sweetly, ” Of course, Margery Mugmouth, the pleasure would be all ours.”

It was Margaret’s nickname among those girls she trashed, and she instantly recognised Summer, and then me.

“Five years, to the day.  You came.  Have a happy life, Margaret.”

With that, we left.

A reporter, or just someone with a notepad, was scribbling frantically and then tried to head us off at the elevator.  Just too late.  The doors closed.

“The nerve,” Summer said.  “That was our corner.  Or I hope it will be.”

“So did I.  Would you like to marry me?” I asked.

The elevator went silent, except for the whishing sound of it going down.

“She made a face, quite amusing, and then said, “Yes.”

People outside the elevator when it arrived thought something bad had happened, given the roar and applause which followed us out into the foyer after it arrived.

Five years, on the last day of the last month at 3 pm, something did happen.  I proposed to the girl of my dreams.  I just hadn’t realised it until then.

©  Charles Heath  2026

“Echoes From The Past”, the past doesn’t necessarily stay there


What happens when your past finally catches up with you?

Christmas is just around the corner, a time to be with family. For Will Mason, an orphan since he was fourteen, it is a time for reflection on what his life could have been, and what it could be.

Until a chance encounter brings back to life the reasons for his twenty years of self-imposed exile from a life only normal people could have. From that moment, Will’s life slowly starts to unravel, and it’s obvious to him that it’s time to move on.

This time, however, there is more at stake.

Will has broken his number one rule: don’t get involved.

With his nemesis, Eddie Jamieson, suddenly within reach, and a blossoming relationship with an office colleague, Maria, about to change everything, Will has to make a choice. Quietly leave, or finally, make a stand.

But as Will soon discovers, when other people are involved there is going to be terrible consequences no matter what choice he makes.

https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

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‘What Sets Us Apart’ – A beta reader’s view

There’s something to be said for a story that starts like a James Bond movie, throwing you straight in the deep end, a perfect way of getting to know the main character, David, or is that Alistair?

A retired spy, well, not so much a spy as a retired errand boy, David’s rather wry description of his talents, and a woman that most men would give their left arm for, not exactly the ideal couple, but there is a spark in a meeting that may or may not have been a setup.

But as the story progressed, the question I kept asking myself was why he’d bother.

And, page after unrelenting page, you find out.

Susan is exactly the sort of woman to pique his interest.  Then, inexplicably, she disappears.  That might have been the end of it, but Prendergast, that shadowy enigma, David’s ex-boss who loves playing games with real people, gives him an ultimatum: find her or come back to work.

Nothing like an offer that’s a double-edged sword!

A dragon for a mother, a sister he didn’t know about, Susan’s BFF who is not what she seems or a friend indeed, and Susan’s father, who, up till David meets her, couldn’t be less interested, his nemesis proves to be the impossible dream, and he’s always just that one step behind.

When the rollercoaster finally came to a halt, and I could start breathing again, it was an ending that was completely unexpected.

I’ve been told there’s a sequel in the works.

Bring it on!

The book can be purchased here:  http://amzn.to/2Eryfth

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to see the planets – Episode 48

A meeting of department heads

First impressions, I was told, were everything.

Back on earth, before this mission, before I had been selected for the crew, we had to spend time learning diplomacy.

I didn’t mind it because I was used to working with multiple nationalities as crew members aboard the cargo ships I worked, some often at odds with each other, and I had to broker peace.

But this brand of diplomacy was more about meeting aliens from other worlds and what to do, even though those running the sessions really had no clue.  The problem was, we would have no idea of what their customs and rules were, much like on earth where the same applied, but you could look them up before going to an ‘alien’s destination.

I could say that now I had experienced one encounter.  And nothing we did in any of those sessions gave me any help or guidance on what I should do.  Yes, we may have learned a little about their culture, but that was never going to be enough, not in the time I had in front of them.

What needed to happen was for us to set up something similar to the old-time embassy where we could exchange information and prevent the problems of new travellers before they got here.  And there would be more travellers now we had the spaceships and not everyone was going to be a positive influence’ ad the Russian example quite clearly illustrated.

But, getting someone or some people to stay with unknown people on a relatively unknown planet, was going to be a difficult ask.

It was one of a dozen topics on the head of department meeting I had called immediately after being transported back to the ship’ joined by the Princess’ whom we had agreed to return to her people.

I suspect that the aliens who had all but incarcerated her did not want to wear the wrath of her people.  Perhaps we would be treated better and hopefully, we would be able to engage in meaningful diplomatic discussions.  It was a subject I had raised with the Princess when escorting her to her transit quarters. Accommodation befitting a Princess.

She was hateful to come aboard but she seemed apprehensive to go home.  That was something else that would fuel another conversation. Because there was definitely more to that story. I didn’t quite trust our so-called new friends.

The next task was to ensure the princess had a private security detail, and dampeners installed to prevent her being transported off the ship.

After that my first call was to the diplomatic unit where I gave them five minutes of my thoughts on the subject before heading back to my quarters to freshen up, and get down the bare bones of the report I was eventually hoping to send on our first encounter, one that I doubted was over yet. 

I will still be getting over the fact they knew of our existence, lived among us, and we had no idea.  And they didn’t believe we were worthy yet to be told.  Sadly, given my knowledge of humankind, I was not really surprised, but others like the Admiral would be shocked and offended and it was their reaction I was worried about.

It was also not so much of a surprise there were others out there, places and people, we knew nothing about because our telescopic technology still wasn’t up to see beyond the limits of our known galaxies and we were the first well technically the second to go beyond it.

And now we proved we could get to that theoretical barrier, set at Pluto, perhaps a telescope launched from there might help us see what was beyond in the first instance because they did hint at a number of civilisations with their own galaxy.

My idea would be to suggest caution and not hit them with a flood of ships but to spend time building a space station at the edge, and then launch exploratory forays from there, when it was complete.  It would take time ten or more years, but the aliens weren’t going anywhere.

But I knew it didn’t matter what I thought.  That was up to the Admiral and the rest of the Space Alliance, and they would want to be out there getting as many aliens on side, much the same as the others would.

The Russian ship had stayed long enough to offload the prisoners and get ready for the return trip.  That was going to be some homecoming because the Space Alliance was going to want answers long before it hit Earth’s outer limits.

Stolen technology, an unannounced foray into space that could have ultimately destroyed any chance of relations with our nearest space neighbours, I wouldn’t want to be the captain of that vessel, at home, or in front of an international jury.

It highlighted just how easy it was to make mistakes, or how badly everything could go wrong very quickly over a nuance.  His background hadn’t helped him either but that shoe could also have fitted elsewhere too.  I had been lucky, he had not.

I walked into the conference room packed with both relevant and interested parties, all eyes on me.  It was, to say the least, uncomfortable.  Whatever noise there was had subsided into silence.

There was one seat remaining.  Mine.

© Charles Heath 2021-2022

That word: Home – in sayings

I’m always on the lookout for inspiration for stories, especially the short stories I attach to photographs in my Being Inspired series, and one of the topics that has been suggested is along the lines of the following.

There is certainly a lot of scope with these.

Home is where the heart is

One’s home is the preferred place to all others, the one you are most emotionally attached, i.e. you have the deepest affection for. It may not necessarily be a physical place though.

I must say I tend to agree with this because every time I go away, I’m always looking forward to coming home.

Even when I’ve had to stay away for a few months, it’s not possible to call that home; it’s just another place to stay.

On the other hand…

It’s the name of a song by Elvis Presley.

And it has been the title of several films.

The Hallmark channel presses this point home time and time again.

Pliny the Elder is credited with coming up with the saying.

Home is what you make it

This is a similar saying, but to me, it means something completely different

Though many will say this means that it’s where family and friends can come to, a place where memories can be made, I don’t believe it’s the same as the first saying.

What you make of it depends on your circumstances; you can hate it because it might be because you’re stuck with one parent, with perhaps a step-parent. Or you might love it because you’ve escaped a bad situation.

But it’s not necessarily where your heart is.

Wherever I hang my hat, I call home

Barbra Streisand made this song famous, and probably means that no matter where you are, it is home to you. It would be more fitting for someone who doesn’t necessarily see their true home very often, i.e., you work in the diplomatic service or in the military, and you move around a lot.

Home away from home

This is a place that is as good as your real home.

“I was minding my own business when…”, a short story

What do you say, when everything that could be had been said, and then some.

What did marriage counselors know, other than they are right, and you are wrong?

I don’t think either of us, with the same belief, could be wrong.  The marriage was over, and there was no use prolonging the agony.

Except we had to try to at least put some of the pieces back together, if only for the sake of walking away with a sense of closure and peace.

But, peace was the last thing in the atmosphere inside the car, and it had been like that since leaving Vancouver.

There had been a momentary truce in Kamloops where we had to stay, in separate rooms, and polite conversation over breakfast, until I put my foot in my mouth.

Again.

I’m not sure if I knew what to say to her anymore.  To her, everything I said was laced with an agenda or a subliminal plot.  I got it, I’d lied to her once too often, and once she proved one right, and, from there, it didn’t take long for the whole charade to unravel.

I’d been advised against marrying her, that I would not be able to do my job and have some sort of life with Eloise, but I wanted it.

And, fifteen months down the track, my employers had been proved right.
Eloise was driving.  Her parents lived in Banff, and we had made the trip in all of the four seasons, and now winter, she was more used to the icy conditions than I.

It gave me a chance to look at her from my side of the mid-sized SUV.  We were going to take her car, a rather small sedan, but it had broken down, so I hired a Ford Flex.

If you’re going to take on the elements, I wanted a car that could handle the conditions.

In that, I think I’d managed to surprise her, and not in a bad way.

For the first time in a long time.

Then, of course, she had to look sideways, and that ruined it.  The frown followed by the pursed lips.  Something caustic was about to come my way.

Except a very loud bang took us both by surprise, and skewing the car sideways, catching the edge of the ice on the road, and we started spinning.

As good as she was, there would be no containing this calamity.

I looked behind to see what the hell had hit us.

An F350 or RAM 2500, definitely larger than us, definitely deliberate, and definitely with intent to hurt us.

Or me.

My work had finally come home.

There was a scream just on the edge of her terror as the car had spun sideways and the car behind us slammed into it us again, arresting the spin and pushing us towards the edge of the road.

I could see what the pursuer’s intent was.  Down the side, a roll if possible, then pick off the survivors as they scrambled from the wreckage.

Or not have to worry, the roll may do the job for them.
We hit the edge as the other car braked, and we continued on, that stifled scream from Eloise now erupting.

She could see what was going to happen, just as our car tipped.

Six seconds.

Seat belt or not, totally unprepared for what was about to happen, she was not going to walk away from this.

Unless I did something about it.

Seatbelt unhitched I dragged her to me and protected her as best I could.  She didn’t resist, but the look in her eyes, terror laced with something else, no time to think about it now, told me she would do whatever I wanted.

Over on the roof, upside down, I prayed it stayed there, and slide,  The ice, snow, and slush was going to help.

Seconds passed, taking what seemed forever, till we reached the bottom of the hill and hit a rock, arresting the movement with a loud bang and a crunch of bending metal.

Stopped.

Engine still running.

No movement from her.  Yet.

And relief.  No bones were broken, or none that I noticed.

Under me, she stirred.

Just as a bullet smashed the rear passenger window, and the shattered glass splattered the interior.  A moment later, the side window, above my head did the same.
I lifted myself, whispering in her ear, “Slide towards the front window.”  It was buried in the snow and dirt kicked up in the final run to the bottom.  The shooter would not be able to see it, or her.

Above me, I reached up to feel under the seat and found the package.

A gun.  Always be prepared.

Ten seconds since the last shot.  From up top, the shooter would not be able to see us, or any movement.  He was going to have to come down and finish the job.

And hope we were would not be able to fight back.

That was the purpose of running us off the road.

Pity then that he had not been given my file.  If he had he would have driven off and tried again later.

That he was halfway down the hill when I saw him told me this operation had been cobbled together quickly, with no time to find a professional.

And now I knew why Barnes had told me to be careful.

A lone wolf looking to make a name for himself.

And failing.
Ten minutes, the police arrived.

Long enough to bury the body and the weapons under a lot of snow, in a ravine that no one would discover until the thaw.

The car that rammed us had gone.  Soon as he saw his partner go down, he left.  A wise man, he had stayed at the top of the hill, having more sense than his friend.

Live to fight another day,

The policeman asked the questions, and Eloise answered.  Not one mention of being rammed, run off the road, being shot at, or that there was anyone else involved.

As cool as a cucumber.

It took her a minute after I shot our attacker to ask the questions I’d expected a week ago when she finally discovered my other life, prefaced by, “No more lies, just tell me the truth.  What the hell is it you do for a living?”

“Make the world safe for people like you, and in my case right now, for you in particular.  Sorry, I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Even from your wife?”

“Especially from you.  You now know why.”

“Bit late for that now, do you think?”

“Just a little.”

And then I saw the look, the one I had fallen in love with 15 months ago.  The one that made my heart miss a few beats.

“You do realize you are the biggest idiot on the planet, don’t you?”

“Does this mean I can stay?”

She punched me on the arm.,  OK, no broken bones, but there was going to be bruising, major bruising.

“If you promise to tell me only the truth from now on.”

What harm could it do?  She knew enough.

“Good.  We should probably do something with that man out there.  I’m assuming the police do not take too kindly to you working in their jurisdiction.”

Too many thrillers, too much TV, or an educated guess, she was right.  This would be impossible to explain, and Barnes was already angry at me.

I held out my hand and she took it as I helped her out of the wreckage.  Out in the fresh, cold air, she took in a huge breath and let out a slow sigh.

“Is it always this exciting?”

“This is the Sunday in the park stroll.  Wait till you have a hand held rocket boring down on you.”

 

© Charles Heath 2019-2020

‘The Devil You Don’t’ – A beta reader’s view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you?

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been solace after disappointment turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realises his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters, cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times, taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice, where, in those back streets, I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all, a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

“The Things we do for Love”, the story behind the story

This story has been ongoing since I was seventeen, and just to let you know, I’m 72 this year.

Yes, it’s taken a long time to get it done.

Why, you might ask.

Well, I never gave it much interest because I started writing it after a small incident when I was 17, and working as a book packer for a book distributor in Melbourne

At the end of my first year, at Christmas, the employer had a Christmas party, and that year, it was at a venue in St Kilda.

I wasn’t going to go because at that age, I was an ordinary boy who was very introverted and basically scared of his own shadow and terrified by girls.

Back then, I would cross the street to avoid them

Also, other members of the staff in the shipping department were rough and ready types who were not backwards in telling me what happened, and being naive, perhaps they knew I’d be either shocked or intrigued.

I was both adamant I wasn’t coming and then got roped in on a dare.

Damn!

So, back then, in the early 70s, people looked the other way when it came to drinking, and of course, Dutch courage always takes away the concerns, especially when normally you wouldn’t do half the stuff you wouldn’t in a million years

I made it to the end, not as drunk and stupid as I thought I might be, and St Kilda being a salacious place if you knew where to look, my new friends decided to give me a surprise.

It didn’t take long to realise these men were ‘men about town’ as they kept saying, and we went on an odyssey.  Yes, those backstreet brothels where one could, I was told, have anything they could imagine.

Let me tell you, large quantities of alcohol and imagination were a very bad mix.

So, the odyssey in ‘The things we do’ was based on that, and then the encounter with Diana. Well, let’s just say I learned a great deal about girls that night.

Firstly, not all girls are nasty and spiteful, which seemed to be the case whenever I met one. There was a way to approach, greet, talk to, and behave.

It was also true that I could have had anything I wanted, but I decided what was in my imagination could stay there.  She was amused that all I wanted was to talk, but it was my money, and I could spend it how I liked.

And like any 17-year-old naive fool, I fell in love with her and had all these foolish notions.  Months later, I went back, but she had moved on, to where no one was saying or knew.

Needless to say, I was heartbroken and had to get over that first loss, which, like any 17-year-old, was like the end of the world.

But it was the best hour I’d ever spent in my life and would remain so until I met the woman I have been married to for the last 48 years.

As Henry, he was in part based on a rebel, the son of rich parents who despised them and their wealth, and he used to regale anyone who would listen about how they had messed up his life

If only I’d come from such a background!

And yes, I was only a run away from climbing up the stairs to get on board a ship, acting as a purser.

I worked for a shipping company and they gave their junior staff members an opportunity to spend a year at sea working as a purser on a cargo ship that sailed between Melbourne, Sydney and Hobart in Australia.

One of the other junior staff members’ turn came, and I would visit him on board when he would tell me stories about life on board, the officers, the crew, and other events. These stories, which sounded incredible to someone so impressionable, were a delight to hear.

Alas, by that time, I had tired of office work and moved on to be a tradesman at the place where my father worked.

It proved to be the right move, as that is where I met my wife.  Diana had been right; love would find me when I least expected it.

lovecoverfinal1

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to see the planets – Episode 47

The four members of the high council – maybe

There was a man in a red suit, a man in a blue suit, a woman in a green suit and another woman in a grey suit.

Grey suit spoke first, “Are all you people from the earth as tiresome as you are Captain?”

She was either the lowest rank or the highest.

“We are an interesting bunch when you get to know us, which, despite this turn of events, I hope we do.  We have a predilection for interfering in matters where we see injustices.”

“Be that as it may, I would like to remind you, that what might pass as acceptable behaviour on your planet, might not be on ours.  You should be aware that in your travels, everyone you may or may not meet has their own specific rules, customs, and regulations which can and will be a lot different to yours.”

“I accept that, and in fact, in the briefing we had before leaving earth, it was impressed upon us that very premise.  And I understand that we may be seen to be interfering in matters that are not our concern.  But, and there’s always a but, that’s how we humans think and rationalise the many situations we often find ourselves in, we don’t like injustices.”

“Does what might appear an injustice to one, not be one to another?  There is ample evidence in your history that points to those overlooking so-called injustices for the greater good?”

“That may be true in the past, but we like to think we have evolved into a better civilization.  But we are not perfect, as you point out.  However, this instance does not qualify as an instance for the greater good, it is simply the selfish whim of a single person.  We have people who are supposed to set an example too and don’t, because they don’t believe the rules apply to them, and I would like to believe that you, too, would not tolerate this sort of behaviour in your leaders.  Your people have been living on our planet for some time, I gather, so you should know that.”

Blue suit had been looking rather severely at me.  “It was a mistake to let you people develop space travel capability.  Our efforts to delay it haven’t been as successful as we had anticipated.  You are not ready.”

That someone or something had been manipulating our progress would probably not come as a surprise to some back home.  My knowledge of the steps we took to get where I was now pointed to several disasters that set the whole program back nearly twenty years, if not more.

I wonder how the Admiral would react when I told him.  If I told him.

“It was inevitable, like everything we do.  Unfortunately for you, we thrive on adversity.”

“You are not the only warlike race in the galaxy you know.  You may want to hold off meeting them for as long as you can, but they know where you are, so there’s more than one inevitability.”

“By uttering those words, does that make you look more like the aggressors than us?  The thing is, we’re out her for better or for worse, and I think you know what has transpired here is an injustice, but the ramifications are unpalatable.  We have an expression; absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Blue suit looked as though he was going to explode.  “It is no use talking to these primitives.”

Grey suit glared at him.  “It is your house that is not in order, and we have tolerated it for long enough.”  She looked at her fellow members and received nods.  Blue suit disappeared, most likely transported back to the planet.

Grey suit:  “You are, using another of your sayings on earth, “treading on very thin ice.”

Green suit took up the narrative.  “We believe you would not adhere to a request to turn around and go back home, so, before you alert the galaxy that you are now participants in intergalactic exploration, take heed of this warning.  Not all species are friendly.  Most are bound by customs and rules which are nothing like yours, and it is possible you will commit the most heinous of crimes by just acting normally.

In this instance, you may have uncovered a problem that we were not aware of, and lucky for you, is a minor transgression in accordance with our customs.  We are no longer those people and will rectify the issue.  The prisoner in question will be allowed to remain on your vessel to do with as you wish.  If you are to continue your travels, I suggest you do so with caution.”

Grey suit again, “We acknowledge you are not going to go away.  So, as the first gesture of friendship between our worlds, we would like you to return the Princess to her home world, and before you do, we will provide you with an advisor to help you navigate the protocols of her world.  We will also grant two members of your crew an audience with our scribes who will give you knowledge of our worlds and people, and that of others in this galaxy.  The other ship does not get this privilege and must leave immediately.  If they do not, they will be destroyed.  There will be no negotiation on this matter.  Do you agree?”

It was probably the best we could hope for under the circumstances.

“Yes.”

Grey suit to their captain.  “I’ll leave you to work on the details.”

With that, the remaining three were gone.

© Charles Heath 2021-2022

NaNoWriMo – April – 2026 – Day 4

It’s an unusual topic, but I was looking for a distraction from the rigours of NaNoWriMo, and this fitted the bill perfectly.

For someone who doesn’t really care about sport in general and is rarely able to find the time in between all the writing to actually sit down for several hours, and, in some cases, all day, today seems to have been an exception.

I got through my NaNoWriMo exercise earlier this morning, and since the Maple Leafs were playing today, I thought I’d fire up the computer and take a look at how they’re going.

By the time I’d found the streaming site, the game had started, but it was nil-all, so it was much the same as not missing the start.

I thought it odd that an Australian would be interested in ice hockey, but it seems I’m not alone.  Nor that others barracked for Toronto, Ottawa, and Edmonton, and all seem to dislike the New York Islanders with varying degrees of intensity.

Maybe because they’ve won ten straight games.

So, it takes a long time, almost halfway through the third period, for the first goal, and it’s the opposition, the Vegas Golden Knights.

Damn them.

And now I have this sinking feeling the game might slip away.  Their form can hardly be labelled stellar, and I thought I heard the home crowd booing them, but that must have been my imagination.

No, my dismay is misplaced, there it is, Mathews comes to life and evens up the scoreline.

And for the rest of the period, the goalie keeps the Golden Knights out.  As only the new, is he, goalie can when he’s on his game. Goalies all seem to look the same.

Once again, we’re in overtime, with more heart-in-mouth stuff, and, of course, the man we’ve been missing, Tavares, finally pulls the rabbit out of the hat.

It’s a pity we couldn’t be there in person to see it.

Maybe I could incorporate a hockey game into the spy story…