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The Writer's Life

A SERIAL NOVEL

by Daniel Whyte III

with Meriqua Whyte

In the degree that we remember and retell our stories and create new
ones we become the authors, the authorities, of our own lives.
Sam Keen

Chapter 1
34-year-old Shirley Kidd, 29-year-old Nikki Rodriguez, and
37-year-old Hermoth Reeding sipped on their coffee in a booth in the
far corner of their favorite Chicago cafe, Java Bistro. Nikki tapped her
foot on the tile floor as she glanced at her watch.

Has anyone seen or heard from Clara Bow? Its not like her
to turn up late and not let us know something, she said, peering
through one of the windows to scan the busy parking lot. Nikki
Rodriguez had beautiful Latina brown skin, brown eyes, and
shoulder-length brunette hair. She was a wife of six years and a
mother of twin girls. As a stay-at-home mom, she had plenty of time
to focus on her goal of becoming a bestselling author.

Give her a few more minutes, Hermoth said as she shuffled

her religious fiction manuscript around. She brushed her bouncy
black curls out of her dark brown, heart-shaped face. Although she
had lived in the United States for nearly twenty years, she still hadnt
lost her Bahamian accent. That unexpected downpour will set
anyone behind schedule. The rain seems to be letting up though,
Hermoth continued.

I sure wish shed hurry because I cant stay out as late as we

did last week, Shirley said swallowing the last of her cheese pastry.
She signaled to a waitress for coffee refills. You can just leave the
coffee pot here, Tamron. Well be needing it this morning! Her light
brown eyes sparkled as she ran a hand through her jet black hair.

Tamron, who worked the weekday morning shift, was well

acquainted with the four friends who met there every week to sip
coffee and occasionally indulge in the fine pastries as they discussed
each others manuscripts. Okay, Tamron said. You know I enjoy
hearing your conversation and laughter as I work.
Shirley nodded, We might have to drag you into another
discussion soon if we cant agree on something. Youre one of our
most helpful critics.

So, why cant you stay out as late? Hermoth asked, turning
her attention to Shirley.

Oh, nothing serious. Dougs been complaining lately that I

stay out too much and dont spend enough time with our kids. I know
his job as a police officer can be stressful, but lately it seems he has
been taking it out on me.

What do you mean? Nikki asked.

Well, he just clams up. Its such a struggle to get him to
communicate, Shirley said.

If he doesnt want to talk why dont you just leave him

alone? Hermoth asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

We cant have a marriage if we dont communicate, Shirley

said. Ive heard of husbands and wives doing the silent treatment. I
cant live like that.

Mmm, I agree, Nikki said.

Shirley nodded. As a little girl, I dreamed of marrying a
policeman. She shrugged. But Douglas just doesnt want to talk
most times. Ive just about given up on any kind of romantic time
together.

Lets get started on our writing. Ill try to get Clara Bow on
my cell again, Hermoth said.

No need to. Here she comes, Nikki said spotting her car as
it entered the restaurants parking lot.

Chapter 2
Hey, everybody, 26-year-old Clara Bow Wilson said sliding
into the empty seat. Her normally perfect blonde hair was wet with
rain, but her blue eyes brimmed with excitement. You will not believe
what happened to me. You know how I love to take pictures. Well, my
tire went flat as I drove over here. On top of that, I forgot to charge
my phone up. So here I am, by the side of the road, wondering what
to do. This man in a red Volkswagen stops to help me. It looked like
the Volkswagen had been painted with a paint brush. The paint job
was so shoddy, I could still see the original blue paint underneath the
red. But, since the man was real nice about it, I let him change my
tire, but I kept thinking Id seen him somewhere before.

Well, did you ask him his name or anything? Nikki asked.
No, he had already introduced himself as Mylo Easton. He
would not look me in the eyes even though I tried to get him to. Clara
Bow poured herself a half cup of coffee and dumped several
spoonfuls of sugar in it, then filled the cup with milk. I did notice that
half of his middle finger was missing.

So? Hermoth said.

Clara Bow continued, As I said, I felt sure I had seen him
somewhere before. I had picked up two sets of pictures I had
developed at the Photo Mart earlier. When I stopped at the light, I
was going through them as I waited and guess what? The very same
man was in one of my pictures!

So? Hermoth asked again.

He had on the same plaid green shirt, jeans, and brown

boots.

And? Hermoth said.

Andas I looked at the picture, it seemed as though he
were shoving someone into a blue Volkswagen. Clara Bow pulled
the blurry picture out of her notebook and set it on the table in front of
her friends. She pointed to what looked like feet sticking out of the
door of a blue Volkswagen in the upper right corner of the
photograph. Definitely a womans feet; the shoes are a giveaway.
And theyre right next to an ATM machine.

Hmm. Thats interesting, Nikki said picking up the picture to

look at it closely. Are you sure about this?

Of course, Im sure, Clara Bow said. You know I work parttime at the newspaper. They ran an article under the missing persons
section about a mother, Mayzie Dawkins, who has been missing for
about a week. She just seems to have disappeared. I bet thats her.

You may be on to something, Nikki said

What are you getting at? Shirley asked.
This Mylo Easton is wearing the same clothing as the man in
the picture, and I could tell his red Volkswagen had once been blue.

Clara Bow, you speculate about things way too much,

Hermoth said.

Well, I am studying journalism. Its my job to question things

and there is something very wrong with this picture, Clara Bow said.
She picked up the picture and looked at it again before placing it back
in her notebook. Im trying to decide whether or not to take it to the
police.

Well, while you think, were going to discuss our

manuscripts. I hope you did some work on yours, Nikki said.

I think Ill keep the novel I brought with me to myself and

begin working on a new novel: The Mysterious Michelin Man. He did
change your tire, didnt he? Shirley joked.

Chapter 3
Okay, Hermoth, whats up with your character, Dr. Justin
Middlebrooks? Nikki asked. When we last met, his wife had died of
cancer and he was looking for another wife.

Yes, Hermoth said. He does want to get married again, but

he is also being accused of fraud by the state medical board. Hes
been scamming patients, forcing them to pay exorbitant prices and
keeping the profits for himself, Hermoth said.

Is he going to get busted? Shirley asked.

Oh, hes going to get busted alright when he least expects it
by the person he starts to trust the most, Hermoth said.

Let me guess, Clara Bow said. His new wife.

Correct, Hermoth replied. But she wont be his wife yet.
Shell find out about this before they get married.

Youll need some romance to keep the story lively, Shirley

suggested. Id do anything for some romance in my life.

Speaking of romance, Nikki said to Shirley. How is your

new novel coming along?

Im still slogging through what they call the murky middle,

Shirley said. She sighed. I have my damsel in distress, but the man
who is supposed to come rescue her is such a deadbeat right now.
They dont seem to be on the same page at all Kind of like me and
my husband.

I suggest you lose yourself in your story, Clara Bow said.

Dont think about your own marriage. Get in tune with your

characters and let them go. If your characters are talking to you all
the time, you wont need anybody else talking to you most of the
time.

And remember the most important thing we all can do when

it comes to writing is when youre stuck in a story, pray through it,
Nikki said.

Thats good advice for life, too, Hermoth said.

The women spent the next hour critiquing each others
manuscripts, applauding progress made, and offering ideas and
suggestions for each others novels.

Guys, Ive had a great time as usual, but I should head on

home now, Shirley said.

Now? Its only two oclock, Clara Bow said.

Well, my husband is still insisting that I should be home
more, even though the kids are back in school, Shirley said. You
might not see much of me for a few weeks.

Oh, no, you cant do that, Nikki said. Sister Soul Scribes
would not be the same without you.

Well, thank you, Nikki, Shirley said. But I dont want to rock
the boat tonight.

To be a person is to have a story to tell.

Isak Dinesen

Chapter 4
Shirley Kidd made it home to find her husband, Douglas,
dressed in his police uniform, ready for work. He had been a part of
the Chicago police force for eight years, and his goal was to
eventually become chief of police. Shirley stepped into the living
room where he was watching sports highlights on ESPN.

Hi, Doug. Your haircut looks great, she greeted her

husband.

Yeah. I decided to make a quick trip to the barber shop after

you left, he said. I see you made it home earlier today. That lets me
know you dont have to stay out as late as you usually do.
Shirley was disappointed at his tone, but she decided to let it
go. We wrapped things up earlier today. Do you want me to fix you
something to eat before you go in?

Nah. Im good. I grabbed something on the way back from

the barber shop.
Shirley glanced at her watch. It read 3:15. The children
should be home any minute now. She picked up the briefcase she
had set down on the floor preparing to take it up to her writing desk
which was tucked away in her walk-in closet.

Do you have to meet with your writing friends on Tuesday

mornings? Doug said. Couldnt you meet later in the day? Maybe
after the children come home from school so you can take them with

you?
Shirley sighed. Doug, we already went over this. Weve been
meeting at eleven on Tuesday mornings for the past six months
because it works best for all four of us. Remember, we tried meeting
in the evenings, but that didnt work out. Nikki likes to be home in the
evenings with her kids; Hermoth is too tired after putting in nine hours
on her job each day; Clara Bows schedule is touch and go; and you
said you wanted me home with the kids while youre at work at night.
Shirley switched her briefcase to her left hand and propped her right
hand on her hip. And its not that we dont want our children along,
we just need that time to really focus on writing without any
distractions. Its going to be hard for them to sit still for almost four
hours as we discuss our manuscripts.
The blowing of the school bus horn interrupted their
conversation. Both parents hurried out the door to meet their three
children. Nine-year-old Brax was holding his six-year-old sister
Cherrys hand. Seven-year-old Rose skipped along beside them.

Mommy! Daddy! they shouted as they waved good bye to

their friends. They hurried up the pathway to embrace their parents.
Doug checked the security system as he said goodbye to his
wife and children. Shirley leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his face
and her lips landed on his cheek. Why do I even bother? Shirley
sighed as she locked the door behind him. Id do anything for you to
tell me whats on your mind.

After spending time with Brax, Cherry, and Rose at the PuttPutt Golf and Arcade, she gave the children dinner and put them to
bed.

Four hours for me to get some writing done before Doug

comes home. Shirley withdrew into the walk-in closet that she had
transformed into a writing room. She knew most women would covet
a closet like hers and the clothes and shoes to fill it but since
her life-long dream was to be a published author, she had given all
that up to use this space to reach her goals. The extra clothes and
shoes could come later after she signed her first book deal.
Shirley tapped the power button on her laptop and scrolled
through the pages of what she had already typed. Lets see where I
left off Rhetta decides to work late to get caught up on her clients
files. The doors are locked and all the lights are off except for the one
in her office. Thats when she hears scraping sounds at the door.

This is where I pick up, Shirley said.

Rhetta sat up and strained to listen. There it was

again a scraping sound coming from the direction of the
entrance. She got up slowly and quietly locked the door to her
office. She looked out the window toward the security guards
booth about fifty yards away at the entrance to the property.
The light in the booth was on and she thought she
could see someone moving.
She heard the scraping noise again. Rhetta listened
some more, wishing her heart beat would quiet down. She
picked up the phone and dialed for security. No answer.
Rhetta forced herself not to think the worst as she
remembered the recent news reports about a burglar
breaking into businesses in the area. Rhetta looked back out
the window. Her heart nearly stopped as she watched the
light flicker and then go out in the security guards booth.

Rhetta sat back down at her desk and dialed 9-1-1.

After explaining the situation to the dispatcher she sat and
waited, too nervous to get back to her work.
She decided to call her fianc as well even though
they were at odds with each other. Come on, answer, she
said into the mouthpiece. When he failed to pick up after the
fourth try, she left a message asking him to call her back and
to come pick her up at work. Even if the police showed up,
she didnt want to walk out to the huge parking lot alone.
Anyone could be lurking there.
As she pressed the End button on her phone, she
listened for the scraping noise again. It was gone.
In its place, she heard the squeak of shoes on the
tiled floor of the lobby.

Shirley was now in a groove. Lose yourself in your story,

Clara Bow had told them at their meeting earlier that day. Get in tune
with your characters and let them go.

Chapter 5
Nikki Rodriguez threw her hands up in despair. Her pen fell
on the table and rolled onto the carpeted floor. She looked down at it
grimly. Her brown hair was pulled away from her face and was high
up on her head in a messy ponytail. The clock registered 6:27 A.M.
Nikki had been up since 4:00. Two hours of writing each morning
helped to jump-start her days. The quietness of the early morning
was the perfect setting and greatly aided her creativity.
But this morning, nothing seemed to be working. Come on.
Think. Unlock your mind. You can do better than this. She reached for
her yellow legal notepad, tore the first two sheets off, stared at them,
crumbled the sheets, and threw them in the waste basket.

Theres no such thing as writers block, she recalled reading

in a copy of How to Write Great Fiction. Apparently you have never
had writers block, she said out loud, because I have it right now.

Just write as quickly as the thoughts come, she said

repeating another line she read in her fiction writing book. Well, right
now, the thoughts arent coming.
After spending five years writing non-fiction, Nikki had
decided to try her hand at fiction. She had written several pieces for
the intercollegiate monthly magazine focused on U.S. college life for
young Latino immigrants. She also wrote for various housekeeping
magazines, the Home and Garden section of the citys newspaper,
and a few other publications.

Nikkis husband, Raphael, was already up and had coffee

brewing. Just what I need, she thought as she sniffed. The smell of
freshly brewed coffee coupled with toasted cinnamon rolls enticed her
taste buds. Raphael would be leaving for work within the next hour.
He owned a taxi/limousine company and the business was
flourishing. Nikki glanced at the clock. Any minute now, Raphael
would knock softly on the door of her office in their three bedroom
house. The spare bedroom served as a getaway spot for her to do
her writing. Raphael would have two cups of coffee, and either slices
of buttered toast, cinnamon rolls, raisin bagels, or some other
breakfast delicacy. The minutes that followed made up their special
time together each morning.

Mmm. Delicious, Nikki said after taking a couple sips of her

coffee. Thank you so much, honey.

Youre quite welcome. Raphael pulled up the only other

chair in the room and sat next to his wife. So, hows your writing
coming along? he asked glancing down at the blank legal pad on her
desk. Apart from the women of the Sister Soul Scribes group, her
husband was her greatest fan and critic.

Not too good, Im afraid, Nikki admitted rubbing the nape of

her neck.

Let me do that for you, Raphael said sliding his chair closer
to his wife. He reached over and began massaging her neck and
shoulders.

I want to focus on family issues and on everyday conflicts

families in general go through. It does not have to be over-dramatic,
but dramatic enough to hold the readers interest.

Well, why dont you write about us? How we met, got
married, moved from Guatemala to America, struggled a bit, and then
became stable financially. I believe we have a story to tell.

No offense, but I think that would bore our readers, Nikki

said. For one thing, we really did not have any struggles because
God had everything under control. He gave you the wisdom to invest
and have your limousine company up and running before we moved
here.
At the mention of God, Raphael stopped massaging with one
hand and pressed his fingers to his forehead. Nikki continued, And,
two, we live a simple life; were an average family. Nothing dramatic
ever happens. Thanks for the suggestion anyway.

Are you saying our family life is boring? her husband asked.
I dont know about you, but I wouldnt want any other life.

Me neither, Nikki sighed.

Well, Ill keep an eye on the twins, Raphael said finishing off
his coffee. You go jogging around the block. That should help clear
your mind and get you to thinking. I already went out and it looks like
well be having great weather today.

Chapter 6
Hermoth Reeding was the first to arrive for the next Sister
Soul Scribes meeting. Its unusual to see this many people here on a
late Tuesday morning, she thought as she set her folder down on the
table in their booth. Tamron, the waitress, had put up a Reserved
sign for her four writing customers whom she had come to befriend.

Hi, Ms. Reeding, Tamron said as she walked up to the table

with a pot of freshly brewed coffee in one hand and eight apple
turnovers on a plate in the other hand.

Call me Hermoth, Hermoth said with a smile as she set her

manuscript to the side. She held her cup as Tamron filled it with
coffee.

Anything interesting happen to you lately? Hermoth asked

Tamron. Im looking for story ideas.

No. Nothing much, Tamron said laughing. At least not

anything worth putting in a book.

Youd be surprised, Hermoth said taking a sip of her coffee

after overloading it with caramel creamer and honey. Each of us has
a story within us and a story we are living; we just have to know how
and when to tell it.

I guess I have to live a little more for my story to develop,

Tamron said placing the pot of coffee in the center of the table. Let
me know if you need anything, and Ill let you know when I have a
story to tell. She left to tend to her other customers.
Hermoth slid her manuscript in front of her. I did not get too
far with Dr. Justin Middlebrooks story, she thought as she read the

last two chapters of what she had written since the last time the group
had met. After reading for a few minutes, her mind shifted from the
last sentence of her manuscript to the telephone conversation she
had just yesterday with her sister.

Wow! Something intriguing must be happening to Dr.

Middlebrooks, Shirley said breaking into her thoughts. I have never
seen such concentration before. Have you, Nikki?

The stern expression on your face is telling me that Dr.

Middlebrooks may be in trouble, Nikki said. And the plot thickens!
Hermoth looked up surprised. Hello there. When did you get
here? Hermoth asked. I must have been a million miles away.

More like ten million miles away, Nikki said. Tell us whats
happening in your story.
Hermoth laughed. I must confess: my mind was not on my
story. It was on my sister. She called yesterday to inform me that she
would be flying in from the Bahamas with my father to permanently
deposit him at my place.

And youre not too happy about that? Shirley said.

You got it. Its not that I dont love my father. Its the way she
went about doing it.

The way who went about doing what? Clara Bow said
sliding into her seat and grabbing an apple turnover.

Morning, Clara Bow, Nikki greeted.

The way my sister went about planning the rest of my life
without my knowledge or my approval, Hermoth answered. She
called me yesterday, then after about ten minutes of beating around
the bush she finally tells me she will be flying in from the Bahamas on

this Friday with my father.

Whats so bad about that? Clara Bow asked.

Whats so bad about that is my father will be staying with
me permanently.

So? From what youve shared with us about your family, hes
a good man, Clara Bow said.

He is except he has Alzheimers. My sister would not tell

me what stage hes at. All she would say was he can still carry on a
decent conversation and can still take care of his basic needs. So,
there goes my quiet undisturbed writers life. I hate it when people try
to control my life; my sisters good at that. Shes been doing that
since we were little girlstelling me what Im going to do, how Im
going to do it, and when Im going to do it.

So are you going to let him stay?

I have no choice. She only bought him a one-way ticket,
Hermoth said.

It probably wont be that bad. Plus, Im sure hell be good

company for you, Shirley said.

Im sure hell be interesting company, Hermoth said, but

after dealing with customers for nine hours, Monday thru Friday, I
want the evenings to myself: to rest, relax, refocus. I want to be able
to really writeyou knowgo into the world of imaginationthe
world of what ifs, and what could be, and what should be.
Her friends nodded. They each understood and treasured
quiet time away from distraction.

See this as Gods will for your life right now, Nikki said. Isnt
doing Gods will your desire?

Of course, except that this seems more like my sisters will

right now, Hermoth said.

Who knows, you may get a life-changing story out of it. As

you know, its the novels that we write based upon true life
experiences that have the greatest impact, Nikki continued.

Well, enough of whats going on with me; lets get some

work done, Hermoth said.

Ill go first, Clara Bow said. I sent off three pictures with a
story behind each to Time Magazines acquisitions editor. Pray that
theyll accept at least one of them if not all three.

Wow! Time Magazine. Youre moving on up, Shirley said.

Yes. I figured I should start reaching for those big prizes,
Clara Bow said. Being a photographer for the Chicago SunTimes has been great, but a byline in Time could do wonders.
After bringing them up to speed on her story, Shirley asked,
Im trying to decide if Rhettas fiance shows up or if he leaves her
hanging because hes still mad.

Only a cold-hearted man would leave a woman hanging in a

situation like that, Hermoth said. Let him leave her hanging and
shell realize hes not the one.

Thanks for that suggestion, Shirley said frowning. But Im

really pulling for them to get it together this time.

I cant imagine any man not coming to a womans aid if he

can, no matter how mad he is, Nikki said.
Clara Bow rolled her eyes. Of course you would say that. We
all know how sweet Raphael is. Hed come running if you pricked
yourself with a safety pin.

The four women laughed.

But, really, Nikki said. This could be a turning point for

them and he can realize how much he loves Rhetta despite their
disagreement.

Ill take that into consideration, Shirley said as she jotted on

her notepad.

If only we could write our way out of our romantic troubles,

Hermoth sighed.

I agree, Shirley said. My protagonist is leading a more

exciting life than I am right now. At least something is about to
happengood or bad, it doesnt mattersomething is about to
happen.

We are all only one step away from losing the stories of our
lives. I write to remember.
anonymous

Chapter 7
A story really isnt any good unless it successfully resists
paraphrase, unless it hangs on and expands in the mind says
Flannery OConnor, Nikki read from OConnors excerpt in On Her
Own Work: Insights Into A Good Man is Hard to Find.

This is what she wrote as she discussed The Misfit, Nikki

said to her husband as they sipped their morning cup of coffee.
Listen to this: But then a prophet gone wrong is almost always more
interesting than your grandmother, and you have to let people take
their pleasures where they find them. What do think about that,
Raphael?

Very interesting and might I add, so true, Raphael said. So

what youre telling me is that readers would rather read about a good
person gone bad as opposed to a good person who is always good
and does nothing but good?

Exactly. But this good person gone bad has a chance to make
a comeback, Nikki said as she took a bite of her French toast.
Mmm, this is good.

So what good person gone bad are you thinking of writing

about? her husband asked.

Still undecided, Nikki said tapping her pen against her

notepad. Other peoples work keeps popping in my mind. I have to
make sure I successfully resist paraphrase because thats a form of

plagiarizing.

What exactly is plagiarizing again? Raphael chuckled.

Stealing other peoples work and claiming it as your own,
Nikki said rubbing the back of her neck.

No, you dont want to do that, Raphael said. He stood up,

stretched, then gave his wife a kiss. Keep working at it; you can do it.
By the way, what is A Good Man is Hard to Find about? Am I a good
man? he asked walking toward the door.

Raphael! Nikki exclaimed with a smile. I just read that story

to you last night. The one where the grandmother, her son and his
wife, and their two children are taking a trip to Florida. On the way
there, three escaped convicts confront and kill them. The
grandmother engages in a rather eye opening conversation with the
leader before he kills her. The conversation helps the convict get a
better picture of who he is and why he acts the way he does. Not that
that made a difference.

Oh, thats the one I fell asleep on, Raphael said ducking as
Nikki threw a crumpled up sheet of paper at him.

Get out of here, she said laughing.

Nikki remained at her desk for a few minutes reflecting on the
previous nights prayer meeting and Bible study lesson. Thank You,
Lord, for prayer and for Your Word.
Later that morning, after dropping the twins off at school, she
gave Hermoth a call.

Hey, Hermoth, I know youre at work, but I was just thinking

about you. How are things falling in place for your fathers arrival?
Hes coming in tomorrow, right?

Yes, and Im not happy about it. Its just like my sister to drop
things on me at the last minute. Im still trying to find a two-bedroom
apartment. I need to purchase at least a bed and a dresser for him,
Hermoth said. I tell you, I dont need this added stress on me right
now. Im in the middle of writing a bestseller. I tell you the truth.

I have a hide-away sofa bed that you can have, Nikki said. In
fact, I may have a few things you can use.

Oh, I dont want to inconvenience you at all, Hermoth said.

Ill just have to sleep on the sofa until I get him a bed.

Its no problem at all. Besides, thats what friends are for,

Nikki said. Why dont you come by on Saturday and see what I got.

Dont you have to ask your husband first?

Ill let him know; but he wont mind, Nikki said. Have you
been able to put pen to paper since our meeting on Tuesday?

This week has been so topsy-turvy I havent had time to do

any serious writing, Hermoth said. I hate it when my routine gets
interrupted. I waste so much time getting back in the writing flow
you know, gaining momentum and overcoming inertia.

Thats probably where I am, Nikki said, trying to find a story

line to help me overcome inertia.

Sometimes if you just look at, listen to, and take note of
people around you, you can get ideas. Other than that, the only other
advice I can give you is to pray and ask God to give you what He
would have you to write. I know that is how I get my ideas, Hermoth
said. It will come to you.

Well, Im going to let you go. And please stop by on Saturday

anytime, Nikki said.

Ill be there. Let me know if you hear of any openings for a

two-bedroom apartment, Hermoth said.

Chapter 8
Clara Bow was up early and ready to tackle the day on
Thursday. Her first stop was at the university for her Creative Writing
class.

Today, I just want to remind you of a few things, Professor

Miller said. Your final project is a fiction work, anywhere from fifteen
thousand to twenty thousand words on any topic of your choice. Keep
in mind all that you have been taught about effective writing. Make
sure it sings, holds your readers interest from beginning to end, and
that it teaches your readers something about themselves or about life
in general.
For the rest of the class time, the students merged into their
previously assigned groups to toss ideas around, to critique each
others previous work, and to offer suggestions for their upcoming
projects.

What are you going to write on? Marla Aglaeca, a brownhaired student asked Clara Bow once they were seated.

Im not quite sure, Clara Bow said. I want to write on

something different; something Ill come away from having gained
insight about how the human mind works and having a better
understanding of myself.

How are your articles and essay pieces coming along? I

overheard

you

saying

something

to

Professor

Miller

about

contacting Time Magazine a few weeks back.

Yes. I sent them something, Clara Bow said. Im still waiting

to hear from them.

Maybe I can send them something also. I have about ten

articles sitting on my desk at home. I cant decide where to send

them.

Sure, go ahead and send them in. You wont know how good
they are until you get someone elses opinion, Clara Bow said.

So, Clara Bow, what will you be writing on? Mark, another
member of her group asked. And please do not say romance. You
ladies kill me with all this romantic writing.
Clara Bow laughed. Tell me about it, she said. Im seriously
thinking of writing a mystery novel. I already have the storyline in
mind.

Thats interesting. Do you think youll have enough material

for twenty thousand words? Mark asked. And if you dont mind my
asking, whats it going to be about?

Im sure I will. Clara Bow said. It will be based on a missing

mother. I might delve a little into the psychological workings of the
mind of a kidnapper as I tell the story.

That should be interesting, Marla said. Is he going to be a

serial kidnapper? Or, will this be his first time? Is he going to end up
killing his victim, torturing the victim, maybe ask for ransom money in
exchange for her release? Girl, you could go so many different ways
with this one.

Thanks for giving me these ideas, Marla. That should set me

going good, Clara Bow said. Any other suggestions? she asked the
members of her group.
The class session ended on a good note. Clara Bow drove off
the school campus, excited about her new project.

Chapter 9
Clara Bow beat everyone to the Java Bistro Cafe for their next
Sister Soul Scribes meeting. She was excited as the others arrived
one behind the other at exactly 10 AM and took their seats.

Youre full of cheer this morning, Shirley said. Got some

good news for us?

A lot of great things have happened since we last met. One, I

had my last class on Thursday, so, graduation, here I come! You are
all coming, right?

Of course, were coming. We wouldnt miss it for the world,

Hermoth said.

Two, Im excited about finishing my book manuscript which is

the last requirement for my degree program. Clara Bow gave them a
brief synopsis of the book.

Well, good for you, Nikki said. I believe that it will be a

success.

Three, this is the biggest one of all. Hold on to your wigs,

ladies Clara Bow pulled a letter out of her case.

Speak, Clara Bow, Hermoth said.

Roll the drums, Shirley giggled.
I heard from Time Magazines acquisition editor. This letter
came in with a check enclosed; they will be publishing one of the
articles I sent in, Clara Bow exclaimed. It should be in the next
issue.

You go, girl! her friends cheered as they high-fived each

other.

This calls for an extra round of apple streusel, Shirley said

raising a hand to summon Tamron, the waitress. This is on me.

Yours is on the house, Tamron told Clara Bow after they

shared with her the good news.

Guess what? Nikki said as she took a bite of her apple

streusel cake. I met Hermoths father and sister. Hes a character.
Very jovial. Her sisters the same.

Are they settling in well? Shirley asked.

As a matter of fact, they have. My sisters only staying for two
weeks before returning to the Bahamas. She wants to stay longer,
but Ive had to remind her that she has a husband and two children to
return to, Hermoth said. I think there was some selfishness on my
part when I told her that.

What do you mean? Clara Bow asked.

My writers life has been disrupted, Hermoth said feigning
sadness. I had plans to write my fingers off and to finish my
manuscript this past weekend, but all I have to show for this past
week is a blank sheet of paper. I doubt if Ill produce anything serious
for the next two weeks. My number one writing room, my living room,
has now been transformed into a bedroom. My number two writing
room, which is my bedroom, Ive had to share with a sister who talks
non-stop; she talks falling asleep, and she talks waking up. I didnt
know it would be this hard to find a two-bedroom apartment. So all
three of us are stuck in my tiny one-bedroom apartment. No privacy
for two whole weeks. Help! I need my space.
Her friends chuckled. Thats what makes life interesting: the
unexpected bumps in the road of life, Shirley said. And might I add,
these unexpected bumps are what make an interesting story.

But all was not wasted, Hermoth said. I researched

Alzheimers and found some interesting reads.Time to Let Go, by
Christopher Fischer, and Stuck in the Middle, by Virginia Smith are
two engaging novels of how families handled their relative with
Alzheimers. Thats not all. Hermoth took a couple sips of her coffee.
She reached into her case and pulled out an article she had printed
from the New York Times dated May 7, 2001, and began to read out
loud.

This article is titled Nuns Offer Clues to Alzheimers and

Aging, by Pam Belluck. It basically says

Drop the word basically in writing and in speaking, Shirley

kindly said. Either it is or it isnt.

Why, thank you, Professor Shirley, Hermoth said with a

chuckle. As I was saying, the article says, Alzheimers victims lose
speech, mobility, and much of their memory. They tend to repeat
certain actions. Its a degenerative disease that creeps up on you. But
the study concluded that spirituality and community living help
greatly.

I dont know why they call it a disease, Nikki said. Youre just
getting old and your body organs, namely your brain, does not work
to its max.
Laying the article on the table, Hermoth said with an air of
defeat, Im afraid of what I may be up against. I stopped by the
nursing home and spoke with the director and she gave me the full
scoop. I feel like Im getting ready to slowly but surely kiss my writers
life good bye.

I dont think its going to be that bad, Shirley said. Lets get
on with your manuscript and try to complete it. Where are you with Dr.
Justin Middlebrooks?

Fiction is art, and all art carries a message of some sort.

Randy Ingermanson and Peter Economy

Chapter 19
Hermoth glanced at her watch. She closed her laptop. Okay,
everyone. Its time to stop by the police station. Well ride together,
and Im driving, she said rising from her seat. Looking at Clara Bow
she said with a grin, You thought I had forgotten, didnt you?

Aw, shucks! I was hoping you would have forgotten, Clara Bow said
laughing. Can we please stop by the Dawkins residence first? Id
love to be the one to show Mr. Dawkins the picture and break the
mystery.

Well see, Hermoth said. But he may be at work.

I think we should let the police handle everything, Shirley said.
Tell you what, Hermoth said. Well swing by the Dawkins
residence to calm Clara Bows anxious mind.

More like appease her stubbornness, Nikki said with a laugh.

Paul Dawkins answered the door when they rang the doorbell.

Where did you get this? Thats my wifes car. That looks like her
the shoes at least, Paul said after they showed him the picture.

As I shared with you when I interviewed you some time back, I work
as a journalist and photographer for the Sun Times, Clara Bow said.
I was randomly taking pictures and snapped that one. The
gentleman in the picture changed my tire one day when it went flat on

me on the highway. I was looking at the picture, and it clicked that this
was the same person. Anyway, we know where he is.

We are headed down to the police station if you want to come with
us as we turn the picture over to them and tell them what we know,
Shirley said.

I dont know how to thank you ladies, Paul Dawkins said. I thought
I would go crazy not knowing whether or not shes alive. I hope this
picture will give me some answers. And thank you so much for the
cookies. My children thoroughly enjoyed them.

Youre more than welcome, the friends said.

I hope your mind is at rest now, Hermoth said to Clara Bow as she
drove them to their parked cars in the Java Bistro Cafe parking lot
after stopping by the police station. Now promise us youll leave
Mylo Easton alone.

I will, Clara Bow said.

And dont you hesitate to call us and the police if he begins to stalk
you before they arrest him, her friends said to her.
Once she got home from work later that evening, Clara Bow worked
on her book until early the next morning.
She stopped by the administration office to finalize things for her
graduation when she ran into Marla Aglaeca.

Are you ready for graduation? Marla asked.

I sure am, Clara Bow said. I just turned in my manuscript. Have
you completed yours yet?

You know me. I turn in my work at the last minute, Marla said.

Im having a little get-together at my place on Friday. Id love for you

to come. Ill be calling our other classmates to invite them along also.
It will be at 6:30.

Id love to come, Marla said. What are your plans after

graduation?

Im not sure. Of course, Ill still keep my job at the Sun Times. Im
thinking of going for my Masters in Journalism. As you know, I like
photography, so I may pursue that as well, Clara Bow said.

Apart from the class manuscript, have you been working on

anything else? Marla asked.

Nothing but various articles. I have another book in mind, but Im still
thinking on that.

How do you manage to work on two books at a time, plus submit so

many articles to the various places? I can only handle one thing at a
time, and thats overwhelming enough, Marla said.

Maybe you can join my writers group. Its only four of us so far. We
get together every Tuesday morning at ten for about four hours. We
offer suggestions as we read and critique each others work. Youre
welcome to join us, Clara Bow said.

Ill think about it because I need a lot of help. Ill call you if I decide to
join yall, Marla said. Wish me luck.

I wish you lots of luck in your career as a writer, Clara Bow said.
Clara Bow and the ten members of her creative writing class met at
her apartment to celebrate their successful completion of the course.
While the party was in full swing, Clara Bow and one of her
classmates, Ariel, went to the kitchen to replenish the bowl of chips
and the tray of ham and cheese sandwiches. Marla noticed a stack of

papers lying on the couch. She picked it up. A cover letter written to a
publisher was stapled to the front page. Marla scanned through the
pages. She has something going on here, Marla thought as she
glanced around the room to see where Clara Bow was.

I cant believe you took work with you, Ennis, another one of their
classmates said sitting down beside Marla.

Hey, Ennis, Marla said as she quickly flipped the manuscript over.
Just something I wanted Clara Bow to glance over for me. She
slipped the manuscript into her purse. So, how have things been
going?
Later that evening, after the party was over, and everyone had left,
Clara Bow sat down to look over her manuscript.

I know I left it right here on the couch, she said to herself as she
searched around for it. That copy had the suggested changes from
our meeting on Tuesday. I have not even placed them in the final
manuscript yet. Whatever could have happened to it?

Chapter 20
Sunday morning found the friends worshipping at the Coming
Messiah Church with Hermoth for her churchs 30th anniversary.
They were encouraged.

I have news for you, Nikki said to Hermoth after the services. One
of Raphaels employees, Carlos, will be getting married. He is living in
a 2-bedroom house that he built. In fact, he has several houses which
he owns, most of which he built himself; working as a chauffeur is just
a thing he does on the side for fun. Anyway, hell be moving into
another of his houses after he gets married within the next month, so

his house will be up for sale or rent. Hes willing to negotiate if youre
interested. Raphael can fill you in on the details.
Raphael got Carlos on the phone to set up a time for Hermoth to stop
by to see the house the following day.

God is good, Hermoth said to her friends as they sat down in their
booth at the Java Bistro Cafe. I cant believe Ive been paying $900
per month for a 1-bedroom apartment, and here I am getting ready to
move into a 2-bedroom house for $675.00 per month. God is not just
good. He is great!

Praise the Lord! her friends said.

Now, Ill be able to focus on my writing undisturbed, Hermoth said.
Im also thinking about sharing with my pastor the idea of writing a
book on the history of the Coming Messiah Church and its mission
and work in the community. It has a very interesting history.

I can tell, Shirley said. I enjoyed the anniversary services

tremendously. Doug was even talking about visiting again.

You all are welcome anytime, Hermoth said. We have a black

pastor, and we are mostly a black congregation, but as you could tell
we have a good mixture of races.

Thats what I love to see, Nikki said. We all claim to love the same
God, so why cant we fellowship and worship together every now and
then without any drama? But thats a topic for another time.

And possibly another book in the making, Hermoth said. Why dont
you pursue that one?

Mmm. Thats worth thinking about, Nikki said.

I want to thank you all for your feedback on my Missing Moms book.
I somehow misplaced the hard copy. I was getting ready to finish

putting in the final suggestions you all gave me, now I cant even find
it. Its the one that I had scribbled your suggestions on off to the side.
If you can remember them, Ill need your help. Anyway, Ill be
submitting it to several publishers, Clara Bow said, and probably
some family magazines for possible serial publication.

Whats serial publication? Nikki asked.

Its a form of publishing that is seeing a revival today. Charles
Dickens and others used to write in this manner years ago, Clara
Bow said. Its when you have a book thats not fully completed, or it
could be fully completed, but you want to get it out before the public,
and you have it printed several chapters at a timeweekly, bi-weekly,
or monthlyin a magazine or newspaper, or some other publication.

Thats interesting, Nikki said.

I heard something about that, but I havent had the time to read up
on it yet, Shirley said.

It has its advantages, Clara Bow said. One, its a great way to
advertise your full book. Two, readers can provide feedback on each
episode as it is being printed so you can edit and rewrite as you go
along. Three, you dont have to rush to write the whole book all at
once. Four, it teaches you discipline as you have to meet publication
deadlines.

Maybe thats the route I need to go with Kanitra, Nikki said.

Speaking of Kanitra, do you have anything written that you want to
share with us? Shirley asked.
Nikki meekly opened up her writing pad and began reading.
Kanitra woke up at 7:30 A.M. in the morning. She opened her eyes.
She looked around her room. She stretched then climbed out of bed.
She yawned a couple times, no three times. She then put her robe on

and went to the bathroom where she flossed and brushed her teeth,
washed her face, brushed her hair. She stepped into the tub for a
shower. She then took her big and fluffy red towel and dried herself.
When she went back in her room, she put her native Indian dress on
real slow as she did not want to wear those things any more. To her
they were ugly, cheap, and outdated. I hate these clothes, she said.

Hows that so far? Nikki asked.

Well help you fix it up, Shirley said.
Its that bad, huh? Nikki said.
We have something to work with, Hermoth said. Lets see. She
took the writing pad and silently read two more pages, then passed it
to Shirley and Clara Bow.

One, dont begin your story with the mundane everyday things; if
you do, dont detail it and tell every little action. You have to grab your
readers attention from the get-go, Hermoth said.

And the readers dont care how many times Kanitra yawns, Shirley
said. And everyone, generally speaking, performs similar morning
rituals when they wake up. You dont need to detail that. Its called
insulting the readers intelligence. If you do that, theyll toss the book
aside never to pick it up again. And theyll remember your name and
never purchase another book that you write.

Create a more solid setting; something the readers can picture in

their minds, Clara Bow said.

Lets begin by cutting the excess, Hermoth said. How

about: Sixteen-year-old Kanitra woke up at exactly 7:30. She looked
around her near empty bedroom. Except for her bed and a dresser
with the left knob missing from the top drawer, the only other things
were statues of the Hindu gods. Kanitra was a native of India. After

showering, she pulled one of her native dresses out of the closet. I
hate these ugly things, she said, and these stupid shoes. Thats
about half the words you originally used. Make it short and spicy,

Thanks, Nikki said. Ill work on it some more.

Before we go any further, lets pull up Elements of Style by William
Strunk and E.B. White on our laptops and refresh our memories,
Shirley said.

Thats a good idea, her friends said.

After two solid hours of work, and before calling it a day, Hermoth
said to Clara Bow as they gathered their things, I know this may set
your mailing date behind, but before you submit your manuscript for
publishing, I think you should wait until your professor has looked it
over. Im sure hell provide some valuable suggestions that you could
incorporate to make it an even better read.

I never thought about that. Thanks for the advice, Hermoth. I

certainly will, Clara Bow said. Ill run it by you all again once I
receive the manuscript back from him.

Chapter 21
After a full days work on the job, Hermoth returned home to find a
weird arrangement on her dinner table. All twelve of her drinking
glasses were arranged in a neat row in the center of the table. There
was a single panel of paper towels neatly folded in the shape of a
triangle sticking out of each glass. In front of them, also arranged in a
neat row, were all twenty of her coffee cups. Taking a second look,
Hermoth noticed half the coffee cup handles were turned to the left
and the other half were turned to the right. Weird, Hermoth thought.

Papa, Im home! she called out.

Receiving no answer, she immediately went to her fathers bedroom.
He was sitting against the headboard with both knees up under his
chin. He looked up at Hermoth with a satisfied smile on his face.

Oh, no! Hermoth said as she looked around. Her three hundred
page manuscript of Dr. Justin Middlebrooks was neatly spread out
across the floor and on his bed. Greatly restraining herself from
yelling at her father, she calmly responded, You did a great job,
Papa. I can tell youve had a busy day. Stay right where you are. Ill
pick everything up.
I just hope everything is in order. Im glad I numbered the pages.
Wow! What other surprises are in store for me?
Hermoth conversed with her father as she quickly picked up the
sheets of papers. No! No. Please dont touch that, she said as her
father started to pick up the manuscript pages that were laying on the
bed. Ill get it. Just dont touch it.
Hermoth did not let his disappointed look sway her. She escorted him

into the kitchen once she got done and sat him down at the kitchen
table where she could keep an eye on him as she prepared the
evening meal. Let me put these glasses and coffee cups away. I
wish I had a camera so we could take a picture of your wonderful
artwork. I wish we could keep them there, but we need the table for
other things. She turned the television up so she could catch
snatches of the news while she prepared the meal.

Papa, you hardly touched your lunch, Hermoth said as she noticed
his lunch still sitting on the counter next to the microwave where she
had left it earlier. She pretended not to notice him taking the napkins
out of the napkin holder and laying them in neat rows covering the
entire tabletop. He then looked at her with a satisfied smile as if
awaiting her approval.

Thats very neat. You did a great job, Hermoth said. She made a
mental note to give her sister a call later that night.

Hows Papa doing? her sister, Pamela, asked when she got on the
phone.
Hermoth related to her sister their fathers strange behaviors.

Oh, I forgot to tell you, hes obsessed with paper products, Pamela
said. Dont be surprised if you come home one evening and your
rooms have been redecorated with toilet paper and paper towels.

I guess I better get to hiding them then, Hermoth said dryly.

Another thing, her sister said, he loves to look at sports
magazines. Hell sit all day and look through the same magazine over
and over. So stack up on those.

Another thing, Hermoth said, sometimes he wont eat. Hell sit and
rearrange the food on the plate without spilling any of it. Im worried.
If it gets worse hell waste away.

I wouldnt worry about that yet, Pamela said. When he gets hungry
enough, hell eat. Hows Dr. Justin Middlebrooks coming along? Is he
alive or dead?

Oh, he died of a heart attack while he was in jail. Vashti is now a

millionaire, but she cannot enjoy all that money because she is faced
with making the decision as to whether or not to help Pierre out by
giving some of it to the inmate Pierre hired to kill Dr. Middlebrooks.

I thought Middlebrooks died of heart complications, Pamela said.

He did. The inmate who was supposed to kill him with the promise of
being set free found him dead the night he went to kill him. He lied
and told Pierre that he killed Middlebrooks. Pierre was unable to talk
the judge into setting the inmate free. Now the inmate has Pierre on
the run for his life as one of his cronies on the outside is stalking
Pierre and sending him threatening mail. They want the inmate set
free as well as $250,000 cash. Pierre is now hounding Vashti for the
money.

Did Pierre and Vashti get married?

Vashti has it on hold after finding out Pierres conniving scheme to
kill Middlebrooks; she feels caught in the middle, Hermoth said.

I cant wait to get my copy, Pamela said. And, Hermoth, I know I

give you a hard time, but youre a great big sister. Take care of Papa.
I hope to see you soon.

Bye, Pamela. I love you, Hermoth said.

Show me a character without anxieties, and I will show you a boring

book.

Margaret Atwood

Chapter 10
Shirley Kidd adjusted the pillows behind her back as she held
the ten pages of writing she had just completed at arms length before
her. I deserve a late night bowl of ice cream for this, she thought as
she glanced at the clock. Doug should be home any minute now. Ill
just wait until he comes in. She read over her work inserting and
crossing things out, making notations here and there.
Hearing the familiar sound of her husbands car engine running
in the driveway, she started putting away her manuscript. She heard
the soft rattling of the garage door as it opened up for him to park his
car. She heard its closing. She heard the car door slam shut, followed
by the jingling of keys as he unlocked the door leading from the
garage into the hallway.
Shirley smiled as she listened to her husband making his
nightly rounds around the house which ended in their bedroom. He
rattled the door knobs to the front door and the back door before
making sure the alarm was turned on. He checked in on the children.
He then pushed their bedroom door open.

Hi, Doug. How was your night? Shirley greeted her husband.
The usual, Doug said removing his gun from its holster and
placing it under lock and key in the safety box he kept on the shelf in
their closet.
The usual. Thats all its been for the past couple of
months, Shirley thought. Anything interesting happen?

No. Doug proceeded to undress, grabbed his robe, and

headed for the bathroom.
Tossing the covers aside, Shirley said, Do you want me to fix
you something to eat? The children and I had chicken and dumplings
with vegetables. Shirley swung her legs over the edge of the bed
and slipped her feet into her slippers.

Warm milk and honey will do, Doug replied. Let me take a
quick shower first.
Shirley knew a quick shower meant hed be up for a few more
hours; it also meant more than the usual had taken place.
Shirley met her husband on the way back to the bedroom with
two tall glasses of warm milk.

Ill take it in the den, he said. I need to unwind for a few

minutes before going to sleep. You should go on to bed and get some
rest.

Im pretty pumped myself. I finished ten pages on my story.

Want me to read it to you?

Not right now. Just let me relax some, Doug said.

Shirley joined her husband on the couch as he turned the
television to the news channel.

Doug, Shirley said as the first commercial break came on, is

everything alright? Youve been kind of withdrawn these past few
weeks. Youve been kind of cold.
Doug shook his head.

Come on. Talk to me, Shirley said.

Doug sighed deeply as he gulped down the last of his milk. I
didnt say anything because I did not want you to be afraid. But Chief

Bartlett received a letter about a month ago. The sender threatened

to come after the families of the policemen who answered the call
during that tragic shooting last Christmas. I dont know if you
remember it. Were assuming its the husbandthe only survivor.

Yes. I remember that, Shirley said after thinking for a while.

Thats the one where the husband returned from jogging on
Christmas Day to find his wife and two daughters dead and some of
the gifts packed in a big sack. The killer was rummaging upstairs and
heard the husband call 9-1-1. The husband heard the movements
upstairs and proceeded to check things out. It seemed the killer was
on purpose making noise to draw the husband upstairs. The killer
then made a run for it, tackling the husband and knocking him out. He
escaped before the police arrived. Right?
Doug nodded. Thats the one. Its been five months, and we
still have not found the person responsible, Doug said.
Shirley slid closer to her husband and placed his arm around
her shoulder. What exactly did the letter say, and how would he
know which police officers were there?

The letter said we did not do our job; we should have gotten to
the house sooner; we should have caught the killer by now; we were
a sorry excuse for a police force, et cetera, et cetera. Doug leaned
his head on the back of the couch. He named my name, my
partners name, and two other officers names. He must have gotten
our names off our badges. The sender said he would contact the
media when he makes his move. Chief Bartlett told us to keep quiet
about it.
Shirley shuddered as the thought of losing her entire family in
such a tragic way crossed her mind. I still cant imagine who would
do such a senseless act.

Doug tightened his arm around her. Im thinking of sending

you and the children to my parents or your parents or some other
relative until it blows over.

No, Doug. Were staying with you, Shirley said.

Chapter 11
Clara Bow stopped at the public library to do some work on her
final college project. I think Ill call it Missing Moms. Still curious as to
the disappearance of Mayzie Dawkins, she decided to pay the family
a visit. After securing the address, she stopped by the Dawkins
residence introducing herself as a reporter from the Sun Times.

Im doing a follow-up report on your wife, Clara Bow said.

Have you heard anything new about her disappearance?

The police have not been able to give us any new

information, Paul Dawkins, Mayzies husband, said.
From the information she gathered from him, Clara Bow
produced a headline article for the Sun Timestitled: How Does a
Family Continue After a Loved Ones Disappearance?

The article you wrote on Mayzie Dawkins touched my heart,

Shirley said after she and her three writing friends had taken their
seats for another Sister Soul Scribes meeting at the Java Bistro Cafe.
Shirley thought of the disturbing news her husband had shared with
her. I cant even imagine being in her husbands position. What if
Doug just disappears? Not knowing whether he is dead or alive
would eat away at me. Worse yet, what if one of my children were to
disappear?

I know that feeling, Nikki said. It brought tears to my eyes

when I read the section where you interviewed the four children.
Theyre so young. They wake up everyday wondering: Is this the day
Mommys coming home? No Mommy to nurse their wounds; no
Mommy to fix them a homemade smoothie; no Mommy to bake them
cookies.

Why dont we bake some cookies and take it to them this

Saturday, Hermoth suggested.

Im with you, Clara Bow said.

Me, too, the others said.
Were so proud of you, Clara Bow, Hermoth said. Gods
going to bless you for trying to help this family.

Well, thank you. I couldnt do what I do without your words of

encouragement, Clara Bow said. Anyway, enough of that; Im about
ready to shed some tears.
The ladies quietly sipped on their coffee and orange juice and
ate some danishes, each occupied with her own thoughts.

You know what? Hermoth said after a few minutes , As I

think about it, this whole Mayzie Dawkins thing could be turned into a
mystery novel. You could approach it in one of two ways. You could
begin with the incident at the ATM machine to whet the readers
appetite. Introduce her as a loving wife and a caring, doting mother of
four. That will touch the readers hearts. Go ahead and have a man
who changes her tires to be the culprit; just dont tell that yet. The
police could mention that this was the third woman who had gone
missing in two months; the first two were last seen at an ATM
machine and they suspect the perpetrator in each may be the same.
Weave the truth of Mayzies story into your fiction story.

Rather than have the victims be killed, perhaps he can just

keep them hostage somewhere, Shirley said. You figure that out,
because I cannot for the life of me understand a criminals mind.

I know. Sin, Nikki said.

Thats the truth, Hermoth said, but people probably dont
want to read that. You might want to look at a couple of books on the

criminal mind.

Thanks a lot, Clara Bow said.

You can approach it from Mayzie Dawkins point-of-view, from
the kidnappers point-of-view, or from the chief of polices point-ofview, Hermoth suggested.

Thanks for your input, Clara Bow said. But where are you all
at on your stories?

My main character, Rhetta, is still trapped in her office

building. Shes afraid to walk out because she thinks someones in
the building, Shirley said. The police have not arrived yet, and
neither has she heard from her fiancethat two-timer.

Two-timer? Hermoth said.

Yes. Hes a cheat, Shirley said. But he does not know that
the girl he is cheating with is only using him to get back at her ex.

That sounds like its going to be one big mess to me,

Hermoth said taking a bite from her pastry. Please relieve our
suspense. Read on.

Chapter 12
Rhetta held her breath as the softly echoing footsteps drew
closer and closer. They came to an abrupt stop in front of her office
door. Her heart almost stopped as she saw the doorknob slowly turn
back and forth. She glanced at her cell phone.
Ring. Please ring. Stanley, please call, she thought.

Rhetta, a raspy voice whispered her name. Rhetta.

Rhettas eyes flew wide open. She shifted her stare from the
doorknob to the crack underneath the door. There was a faint
shadow coming from underneatha pair of shoes partially blocking
the light.

Rhetta. Rhetta Droxley, the raspy voice said softly. I know

that you are in there. Open up so we can talk.
How? Who? What? Rhetta thought nervously backing
away from her desk. She quickly glanced out the window at the
security guards station. No movement and no light.

Rhetta, the haunting voice said again. Come on. Lets talk.
Silence.
The next sound Rhetta heard were footsteps softly fading
but light was no longer streaming under the door. With shaky hands,
she dialed the security guards station. Thank God, she said out
loud as someone picked up.Someones in the building. Im trapped
in my office.
Rhettas mouth gaped open but no sound came out as the
raspy voice answered her. I know youre in the building, Rhetta. I
was just in there but you would not open up so we could talk. Now

youre wondering who I am. I had a little gift for you.

Rhetta heard tappingrhythmic, calculated tapping. She
forced herself to look out the window. The light in the guards station
blinked on and off for a few seconds.

Your form looks lovely through the window.

Rhetta snapped the drapes shut.

Ive been watching you for some time now

Lights. The lights, Rhetta thought frantically as she turned the
lights off in her office.

I can still see you.

Rhetta stared at the phone. It was as if it was glued to her
handsas if she was being forced to listen to the voice.

Youve been working here for about seven years now, and
youre moving on up the corporate ladder. Congratulations.

No more, Shirley said putting her manuscript down.

Aw, shucks! Nikki said. I was just getting into it. Keep
reading. Whos this mysterious person?

I dont know, yet, Shirley confessed slumping her shoulders.

I broke into the story to give the readers a background history of her
fiance, Stanleywhere he was, what he was up to, where he was
born, how they met, how he received her message but chose to
ignore it.

How many pages did that take? Hermoth asked

Mmm, about two pages, Shirley said.
Two pages! Hermoth exclaimed. Shirley, you just killed the
story. You just lost your readers. Dont cut the suspense you have

going on at the office to give mundane stuff about Stanley. As of right

now, the readers want to know what is going to happen to Rhetta.
Who cares a flip about Stanley at this time! We want to know who this
raspy-voiced person is, and whether or not he succeeds in whatever
hes going to do to Rhetta. Cut the backstory, Hermoth said drawing
her fingers across her throat.

Any suggestions? Shirley asked.

It could be her own boyfriend stalking her, Clara Bow
suggested.

Picture this, Hermoth said holding both of her hands in midair. See whats his name? Yeah, Stanley. Stanley thinks shes
seeing someone else because shes had to put in too many late
nights, in his opinion. Hes seen her walk out the building a few times
with a co-worker. Of course, nothings happening between them;
theyre only discussing office work, but Stanley does not know that,
and rather than ask, he just assumes things.

Or, Nikki interjected, it could be one of her male workers

whos been trying to get her attention, but hes upset because she
keeps snubbing him. See, Rhettas a one-man woman. Shes had
good upbringing; she visits the church house pretty regularly

Or, Clara Bow interrupted, it could be the stalker whos

running loose in the areayou knowthe one whos been breaking
into the offices; youve already mentioned that. Anyway, hes seen her
coming and leaving the office by herself; somehow he got a hold of
personal information on her; now he has her on his radar.

Three people to choose from, Shirley sighed.

Whichever one you choose, remember what Alfred Hitchcock
said: drama is life with the dull stuff left out. Cut the two pages on

Stanley, Hermoth said with a grin.

The friends laughed as they wrapped up their meeting.

If you dont turn your life into a story, you just become a part of
someone elses story.
Terry Pratchett

Chapter 13
Clara Bow made herself comfortable in the middle of her bed.
She lifted the cover of her laptop and started to type. She titled her
page, Missing Moms. She then copied the article she submitted to
the Sun Times from the interview she conducted with Paul Dawkins
into that file. She typed in all the ideas her writing friends had
suggested as she did more brainstorming.
I must remember to modify this to flow right into my
storyline, she reminded herself as she flagged that page. I will show
the picture to Mr. Dawkins, but not right now because hes going to
insist that I take it to the police. He may even begin to label me as the
suspect.
Clara Bow scanned in the picture and placed it in the Missing
Moms file. Now, Ill do a search on Mylo Easton. Clara Bow paused
as she thought about the mystery before her. Hmm, Im surprised the
security camera at the ATM machine did not pick this up
unless Clara Bow typed her thoughts and speculations into her
manuscript file.
This accounts for 4 explanations:
1. He may have somehow figured out where the security
camera is and blocked it. If thats the case, hes probably an
experienced crook or he has worked at a bank and is familiar
with its security cameras.
2. Someone at the banks security office or whoever was

monitoring the cameras that evening was not doing his job; he
failed to report what he sawif he saw anything.
3. There was a malfunction in the camera.
4. He is in cahoots with someone in security.
I could choose any of these and run with it. More than likely
number one. Number two could work; this would come up during the
court case as the lawyer would ask for security tapes for the date she
went missing.
Number three could work, but I cant use that; Ill need the
cameras working as evidence in court.
Number four is lame. If hes in cahoots with someone in
security, just have that other person to steal the money unless
money may not have been the main motive for the kidnapping. Ill
have to think on this some more.

Time for a snack, Clara Bow said to herself.

She went down to the kitchen and got sliced bananas,
chocolate spread and a glass of fruit punch which she took back to
her bedroom where she resumed her work.

I have to establish a reason for Mylo Easton kidnapping

Mayzie Dawkins, Clara Bow said to herself. She picked up her cell
phone and pressed a button. Hey, Nikki, Clara Bow here. Just one
question: Off the top of your head, what would lead a man to kidnap a
woman, run off with her car, and take what little money she had on
her?

Hes probably in need of cash and a car and saw her as

easy prey, Nikki said.

He may get a thrill out of taking advantage of women. You

knowa psychopath, Shirley answered when Clara Bow asked her

the same question.

Oh, hes just a maniac. His elevator doesnt go all the way to
the top, Hermoth said. Are you working on your mystery novel?

Undercover, Clara Bow said.

Ooh! I cant wait to read it, Hermoth said.
Thanks a lot, Clara Bow said.
The picture, Clara Bow typed in, thats incriminating evidence
to unlocking this mystery of the missing mom. We can either get it
secretly to the police with a letter of explanation. Or, we can have it
mysteriously delivered to Paul Dawkins. Now should this be revealed
in the middle or towards the end of the novel?

Writing is definitely not for the lazy person, Clara Bow said
repeating her professors words as she closed out her file. You have
to actively engage your mind. She drank some of her fruit
punch. One more thing before I end this project for the night. Clara
Bow did a search on the name Mylo Easton. Just as I thought. Only
one listing. She picked up her cellphone.

Hello, Mylo Easton.

Chapter 14
Nikki and her daughters returned home from church on
Wednesday night to find Raphael in the kitchen putting the finishing
touch on one of his favorite snacks: pan dulce.

Thank you, Daddy, Nikita and Makita both said as they took
their seats around the dinner table.

Thank you, dear, Nikki said as she took her seat across the
table from her husband.

What took you all so long? The pastor must have been
praying up a storm, Raphael said as he placed the snack on each
plate. Did you ask him to pray for me?
Nikki smiled as she bit into her snack.

No, Daddy. Philip stopped Mommy and was talking to her,

Nikita said looking at her sister. They both giggled.

Whats so funny about Philip talking to Mom after church?

Raphael asked glancing at his wife.

Oh, nothing. He just tries to pluck our dimples off our

cheeks, Makita said giggling some more.

Is that so? Raphael said. He glanced at his wife again. This

Philip must be an interesting person. What does he look like?

He speaks like you and he kind of looks like you, Nikita

said. Except hes not as tall as you.

Is that so? Raphael said again. And how long has Philip
been talking with Mommy?

Its not every time, Makita said. He never used to talk with
her until a little while back.

O.K. You girls finish off your snack so you can go to bed,
Raphael said. Early to bed, early to rise.

After you both finish off your homework, their mother

reminded.

Yeah. I almost forgot. Ms. DeSilva wants us to write a poem

or copy one for tomorrow, Makita said as she swallowed her last bit
of food. I hate poems. Daddy can you help us find two? Ms. DeSilva
says we cannot bring the same one.

Sure. How about this one by Ogden Nash: Timothy Winters

comes to school / With eyes as wide as a football pool / Ears like
bombs and teeth like splinters / A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.
Raphael stood up and moved his hands rhythmically. Come
on. Follow me.

Ill take that one, Nikita said joining her father.

How about this one entitled The Wind, Raphael said. The
wind stood up, and gave a shout, Raphael shouted. He whistled on
his fingers, and kicked the withered leaves about, Raphael said with
a kick.And thumped the branches with his hand, Raphael said
punching his right palm with his left fist. And said, hed kill, and kill,
and kill; And so he will! And so he will!
Raphael looked at his wife with a determined expression as
he said the last line. Nikki stared back at him with raised eyebrows
trying to smother her laugh.

Who wrote that one, Daddy? Makita asked as she held a

pen and notepad.

None other than James Stephens, her father said with a

bow. Come on. Ill pull both poems up on the computer while you get
ready for bed, then you can copy them off. Mommy and I will be in to
say good night.

Daddy, where did you learn such funny poems? Nikita

asked as she skipped out the room with their father.

In school. Once you learn them, you never forget them

especially the funny ones.
When Raphael returned to the kitchen, Nikki had the dishes
all cleaned and was sitting at the table looking over the notes she had
jotted down from the Bible study. Maybe I can choose a character
from the Bible who encounters one trouble after another and finds his
outlet through prayer, she thought as she tossed up story ideas in her
head.

Care to explain who this Philip is? Raphael said after

getting a glass of water.

He attends the church. I never knew he existed until a few

weeks back. And, yes, weve been talking after church, Nikki said.

And? Raphael said taking a seat at the table.

Look, Raphael, I know what you are thinking, but its nothing
like that. I am not the least bit interested in Philip. I just see him as
another one of the church members.

But youre getting comfortable talking with him, Raphael

said. And youve never mentioned him to me before.

Thats because there is nothing going on between us, Nikki

said. And if your next question is, what have we talked about, Ill
answer before you even ask. We talk about Bible things. And hes
somehow found out that I write for the Intercollegiate Magazine, so

hes been asking about that.

Is that all?
And he asks about you as well, Nikki added. He probably
feels a kindred spirit, a cultural bond. He, myself, and another family
are the only ones of Hispanic descent attending the church. As you
already know its a good size church; you could easily feel alienated
in there.

Hes a man; he should know how to handle his feelings of

alienation, Raphael said. He then chuckled, Hes not a softy, is he?
Nikki laughed. You be the judge of that. But on a serious
note though, Ive been asking you to just come to the church with me
and the girls; its only two times each week. Id be satisfied if you just
came on Sundays. I believe you already know I have no desire for
any relationship with another man, but your presence would ward off
any interest any man may have in me and that would eliminate any
possible problems from turning up. When I turn up by myself, they
may see me as a single mother or a woman whos not getting along
with her husband.
Raphael thought on his wifes words.

Im sure the twins would love to have you come along as

well, Nikki added.

So you want me to come rescue my damsels in distress.

You could say that, Nikki replied. So, are you coming with
us on Sunday?

Ill think about it, he said pulling her up from her seat. Lets
go say goodnight to the girls and go to bed ourselves.

Chapter 15
We have a new dessert, Tamron greeted her writing friends
as she poured coffee into their cups. Its called fruit gizzada. You can
have it sweetened or unsweetened. Want to try it?

Whats in it? Shirley asked.

Its like a personal pie filled with fruit, and nuts and topped
with coconut flakes.

Hey, that sounds familiar. It sounds like something my

mother used to make when I was a little girl, Hermoth said. The only
difference is, our filling is brown sugar and coconut flakes. Oh, man, I
miss it. Bring me two of themsweetened.

Well take one, too, her friends said.

Coming right up, Tamron said as she refilled the bowl on the
table with packets of sugar, Splenda, vanilla and caramel creamers,
and coffee stirrers.

Hey, everyone, I got some good news, Nikki said as they

pulled out their notepads and flipped their laptops open. Raphael
came to church with us.

Really? Thank God, Hermoth said. It seems like God has

finally answered our prayers.
Nikki related to them what led to Raphael coming to church
with her and her daughters.
God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform,
Shirley said.

The first thing he asked was to meet Philip, who was man

enough to still come say hello, Nikki said.

Hermoth laughed. Im so happy for you. Talking about
church, my church is celebrating its thirtieth anniversary next Sunday.
I invite you all to be my special guests along with your entire family.

Well be there, her friends assured her.

Will we get to meet your sister before she returns to the
Bahamas? Clara Bow asked.

Shell be gone before then, but youll meet my father. Why

dont you all stop by on Saturday after we stop by the Dawkins place
and meet her and my father. Hermoth said. I cant wait to get
Talkaton on that plane and get back on schedule with my writing. By
the looks on your faces I can tell youre wondering who Talkaton is.
Thats the pet name I gave my sister. Boy, can she talk up a storm,
Hermoth said with a laugh. Anyway, talking about writing, wed better
get some work done. Have you written anything yet, Nikki?

Nope. Im still struggling.

You could use the change in Raphael and build a story
around it. It could be a family novel dealing with issues that husbands
and wives go through, Shirley suggested. In this case, marital
problems; some other man showing her more attention. Take it to the
extreme. Make it a romance novel.

I love reading romance novels, but I just cant bring myself to

write about it, Nikki said. She slumped her shoulders.

Youd be amazed at what you can come up with if you dig

deeply into the recesses of your mind, Clara Bow said. You could
take one of your non-fiction articles on how immigrants adjust to living
in a foreign country and dialogue it out.

Think about how you and your husband felt emotionally and

socially, Shirley said. Im sure you did not always feel comfortable.
Ask Hermoth; Shes from the Bahamas. Im sure she felt some
strangeness when she first moved to America.

Yes, girl, I could tell you some stories. Come on, pick up
your pen and begin writing, Hermoth said. After sharing some
incidents with them, Hermoth added, To make it more dramatic, you
could use someone from, say, China or India; her parents are very
strict in their cultural beliefs and they insist on her wearing their
countrys native dress and sticking to their religion; peer pressure
gets to be too much for her. Some of her new friends try to
Americanize her. You can even add a Christian element to it where
she becomes a Christian and she hides it from her parents. Do you
see where Im going with this?

Yes. Absolutely, Nikki replied. Her parents find out and all
hell breaks loose, Nikki said writing as fast as she could. Shes
normally a good child but she begins to rebel against her parents
false religion.

I believe you got it, Hermoth said. Run with that now, and
have something for us next week. If you need any help, were only a
phone call away.

That looks delicious, Clara Bow said as Tamron placed their

order before them.

Heres some cinnamon to sprinkle on top, Tamron said as

the friends bit into their new dessert.

Mmm. Mmm. This brings back good memories, Hermoth

said.

This is absolutely delicious, the others agreed. Thank you,

Tamron.

Youre quite welcome. How are your new books coming

along? Tamron asked.

Just great. Do I have your permission to mention you in my

next book? Clara Bow asked.
Tamron laughed. Id be honored. Let me know if you need
anything.

When I read a good book I wish that life were three thousand
years long.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 16
I know youre working on a secret project, so whats new?
Shirley asked Clara Bow when they next met up at the Cafe.

My college project is coming along quite nicely. Im just

about done with jotting down notes and creating a outline.

Youre referring to the Missing Moms manuscript, right?

Shirley asked.
Clara Bow nodded. Ive decided to focus on that book and
make that my book to submit for publishing.

I think its great that youre taking something as tragic as that

and making it into a work of fiction to help those who may read it,
Nikki said. What do you hope to accomplish by writing about missing
moms?

Well, Clara Bow said after thinking for some time, I want to
bring awareness to the families of mothers and wives who have gone
missing. And also that life keeps going on even though a family
member may no longer be present. Im sure other things will come to
my mind as I work on completing the book.

You know you have a lot of people saying, I want to write a

book, but they never actually start writing anything. I dont know how
many wanna-be writers have taken a great book idea with them to
their graves because they were too lazy to go through the painful task
of writing, Shirley said. I tell you, writing is definitely not for the lazy

person.

You said that right, Hermoth said.

Oops! Nikki said. I had better get off my do-nothing and get
to writing then. Im afraid my main character, Kanitra, is in sinking
waters. I have not written much. In all the books Ive attempted to
write, I just dont feel my main characters yet.

Just keep plodding away, Hermoth said. Sometimes you

just have to begin writing: first one word, then two words, then three
words. Before you know it you have one sentence, then two
sentences, then a whole paragraph, then a full page. Just get the flow
going and keep it going, girl!

Do you know what I havent been able to figure out? Clara

Bow asked. What would lead one writer to take another writers work
and present it as her own.

Someone with deep psychological issues, Hermoth said.

Someone who lacks confidence in herself, Nikki said.
Someone whos seeking friends and the approval of others,
Shirley said.

Someone who wants the easy way out, Clara Bow said.
As far as my book goes, Clara Bow continued, Ill be
sending you copies to proof once I get it done. I want to keep the
details of it quiet until I am done with it.

Must be something exciting, Nikki said. I cant wait to read

it. Your turn, Shirley. Is Rhetta still in the building?

I hope you cut the two pages on Stanley, Hermoth quickly

said.
Shirley pulled her manuscript out and started reading:

Rhettas hand seemed glued to her phone. With the lights off,
she inched her way across the room back to the window when she
heard voices coming from her phone which was still on. Slightly
opening the drapes she peeked out to see the flashing lights of a
police car.

Whew! Thank God theyre here, she said.

Rhetta strained to hear the exchange between the police
officers and who she assumed was the security guard. She almost
dropped her phone when she heard the security guard say, Yes,
Officer. She called me here, but I had stepped away to do my rounds.
Shes safely home now. We got her out.

Whose car is parked over there? the officer asked nodding

his head in the direction of Rhettas parked car.

Oh, sometimes the employees carpool and leave their

vehicles parked here overnight. They notify us of that.

Liar! Rhetta shouted into the phone.

Click!

Im still in the building! Hes lying. Please double check.

She banged on the thick window pane. Her panic increased as she
saw the police officer enter his car and drive away. She leaned
against the wall still peering out the window. Her cellphone rang.
Thinking it was her fiance, she answered. Hello, Stanley. Thank
God

You shouldnt have done that, the raspy voice said.

Wait a minute, Hermoth said. I dont think youve told us
who the raspy voice belongs to yet; but if hes the one whos been
attacking people in the area, wouldnt the police recognize him? Dont
they have a mug shot out on him?

They dont know who he is yet, Shirley said.

Okay. Im glad you kept her in the building a bit longer,
Hermoth said. Keep the suspense going, but dont let her overstay.
Glancing at her watch she said, Sorry to end this fun time, but Im
going to be really late for work. Plus, I have to check on my father to
make sure hes still in one piece. When I woke up this morning, he
was just sitting in the dark staring at the wall. I got scared. He
seemed his normal self when I left, but I cant take any chances.

Dont forget we meet here on Saturday, say around one, to

visit the Dawkins family, Clara Bow said. Ill give you a call on Friday
to remind you.
The writers gathered their laptops and other writing
instruments.

One thing before we disband, Shirley said. I didnt want to

bother you with this because I did not want you to worry yourselves,
but I really need some prayers going up for me and my family. But,
you have to keep this quiet. Shirley shared with her friends what her
husband shared with her. Please pray for our safety as well as for
the safety of the whole police force. And please do not discuss this
with anyone.

Let me pray for you right now, Clara Bow said.

Well definitely be praying for you and your family, Nikki said
as they headed out the cafe to their cars.

Chapter 17
Clara Bow met with Mylo Easton for a late lunch later that
week.

Thank you so much for accepting my invitation to lunch,

Clara Bow said as they sat down in the restaurant. I just wanted to
show my appreciation to you for changing my tire in the rain.

You are more than welcome. But like I said, no thanks

needed. It was the neighborly thing to do, Mylo said. I hate seeing a
lady stranded on the highway, especially when it is raining.
He held a stare that locked Clara Bows eyes with his.
Nothing flirtatious. It was a stare that commanded she look at him,
and one that left her feeling uncomfortable. But I am determined to
get some answers, she thought.

Are you married, Mr. Easton? Clara Bow asked. Id love to

meet your family.

Please, call me Mylo. And, no, I am not married. Never have

been and never will be.

May I ask, why?

Ive had too many bad experiences with women; plus, Im
not the marrying type, Mylo said.
Clara Bow tried not to show alarm of any kind as she
remembered Hermoths answer when she had asked her why a man
would abduct a woman: Maybe he has unresolved issues with his
mother, a sister, or an old girlfriend and takes it out on women.

You seem to be a nice person. What woman would not like

you? Clara Bow asked.

There are women out there who are not so nice, Mylo said.
However, you seem nice enough.

I try to be, Clara Bow said.

I wish more women would try to be nice, Mylo said. Ive
had a few girls to stand me up over the years for no reason at all.
Well, they could not give me a reason. What gets to me is when I say
hello to some in passing and they dont even acknowledge me. I
mean, who do they think they are?
Clara Bow chuckled more out of nervousness.

I knew the minute I changed your tire that you were a

woman of a different cut; youre more likeable.

Thank you, Clara Bow said. Where do you work?

At the auto shop here in town. You know, some of our worst
customers are women; they nit-pick at everything, Mylo said.

Maybe thats because we dont have a knack for such

things. To be frank with you, Im not interested in how to change a tire
or how a car works. I just want it to get me from point A to point B,
Clara Bow said.
Mylo laughed. After the laughter died down, Clara Bow looked
him directly in the eyes and said, On a serious note, while we are on
the subject of women, I wonder if women being mean-spirited has
anything to do with them being abducted. Clara Bow thought she
saw a sign of surprised disapproval, but she continued speaking. I
could never figure that out. Like this Mayzie Dawkins lady. She
comes to mind because shes the latest one reported missing. From
the news report she was a loving wife, mother, and friend. Who would
want to hurt her? The police believe she was grabbed while at an

ATM machine.
Mylo Eastons eyebrows quivered. Do you work for the
police? he asked.

Oh, no, Clara Bow said. I like to read mystery novels and I
love to watch re-runs of CSI, Hill Street Blues, and Hawaii Five-0. But
I would never work for the police department. I am not going to put
my life on the line like they have to.
Mylo looked at her askance. Then he chuckled. I love a good
detective show myself. It never ceases to amaze me how the police
figure out the minds of their suspects.

That amazes me also, Clara Bow said. I just love to see

the suspense build up as the suspect pulls one over on the police
and then just when he thinks hes gotten over on themBam!they
catch him. Sobering up, Clara Bow said, I just dont like to see the
innocent get hurt though.
Clara Bow did not like the look Mylo Easton gave her.
As they were wrapping up their meal, Mylo said, We ought to
do this again. Let me have your number so I can give you a call to set
up a dinner date.

I think it would be best if I gave you a call. I have a really

weird schedule. Besides, Clara Bow said with a laugh, I thought you
expressed dissatisfaction with women earlier.

Like I said, youre of a different cut, Mylo said.

Thank you. Ill keep that in mind.
As soon as they finished their meal, Clara Bow hurried home
after making some detours to throw Mylo off lest he decided to follow
her. Once home, she made sure her door was locked and wedged a

chair under the lock for added protection. Pulling her computer out,
and opening it to her Missing Moms file, she typed furiously her
conversation with Mylo Easton, describing his reactions, especially
when she mentioned her speculation about Mayzie Dawkins
disappearance. Clara Bow ended her chapter with these words: No
one knows whether or not she was abducted from an ATM machine.
The police did not even put that in their report. Mylos reaction told on
him.

Chapter 18
He had guilt written all over his face, Clara Bow told her
friends on Saturday in the parking lot of the Java Bistro Cafe after
their visit to the Dawkins residence en-route to Hermoths apartment
to meet her sister and father.

When I mentioned Mayzie Dawkins and then threw in that

she disappeared while at an ATM machine, he almost choked on his
own saliva. He asked me again did I work for the police, Clara Bow
said.

Clara Bow, how could you have done such a stupid thing like
that? Hermoth asked. Do you know he could have hauled you off
somewhere and killed you? Then you would be the next missing
person.

Clara Bow, we told you to leave it alone, Nikki said. You

were going on mere speculation.

Speculation? Mylo Easton had on the same clothes as the

man in the picture, Clara Bow said. I had to find out for myself. And

You could have let the police find out for you, Hermoth said.
And?

And, I am convinced its the same person, Clara Bow said.

His reaction gave him away. I wish I had a camera on him.

Why didnt you at least let us know what you were up to? We
could have sat at another table in the restaurant and keep an eye on
you both, Shirley said. Thank God you did not eat at this restaurant.
He may come looking for you here.

Young and nave, Hermoth said. Dont you ever do that

again. You could be dead instead of standing here with us today
talking. Lets go meet my sister and my father before I change my
mind about you stopping by.
Clara Bow grinned.
_________________
As soon as Clara Bow sat in her seat at the Java Bistro Cafe
for their next meeting the following Tuesday, Hermoth, with an
outstretched arm, blurted out, Clara Bow, let me have the picture.

What picture? Shirley asked.

I called her last night and asked her to bring that picture of
Mylo Easton and Mayzie Dawkins at the ATM machine, Hermoth
said as Clara Bow handed her the picture, which she placed in her
briefcase. This is what we are going to do: We are going to spend
three hours discussing our books, then we will all spend the last hour
at the police station. We are going to turn this picture over to them
and tell them everything we know before Clara Bow acts crazy
again.

Yes. I thought about that, too, Shirley said. I became

concerned and shared the whole thing with Doug. He said you need
to let the police in on it and then leave it alone as you may be
bringing trouble upon your life.

Youd better do as he says, Nikki said to Clara Bow.

Clara Bow smiled. Oh, man! The info I gained from just
talking with Mylo has added valuable information to the Missing
Moms mystery book Im writing. He could provide valuable insight
into the mind of an abductor.

He could also provide insight into what happens to a young

naive woman who provokes a killer, Hermoth said. Just leave it be

and use your imagination to complete the book. Think of an ending
you want and fill in the gaps. Nothing hard about that.

Hermoth, he may reveal info that leads to who his next

victim may be, Clara Bow said.

Didnt he ask to go out with you again? You may just be his
next victim, Hermoth said.

But I want the police reports and the work theyll do to land
him in jail to add to my book, Clara Bow said.

Youve watched enough re-runs of Hill Street Blues to figure

that out, Hermoth said.

You could tell the police chief that youre writing a fiction
book as a dedication to Mayzie Dawkins and to all missing moms,
and they could help you by providing information as to their part in
carrying out investigations on finding out what happens to these
women and also on how they arrested Mylo Easton, Nikki said.

Wont that work? Hermoth said peering at Clara Bow over

the rim of her gold framed reading glasses. Now stop being so
stubborn and let the police take over and do their job. You should
have joined the police force if you wanted to do detective work. Now,
where are you on your novel?

About three-quarters of the way, Clara Bow said.

Good, Hermoth said. Well wait for the finished product
seeing that we know what the story is about, and you want to keep it
a mystery.

Where are you on yours? Clara Bow asked. We havent

heard from Dr. Justin Middlebrooks in a while.

I read what I had already written to my sister and my father,

Hermoth said. My sister gave me some valuable insight as we talked
about fiction writing in general. She said one of the things that turned
her off from Christian fiction was how the authors tried to make the
characters perfect. They portray them as though they cannot sin, they
will not sin, and they do not sin. She said thats not realistic. I agree
with her.

She has a point there, Nikki said.

She went on to say that Christians sin too and we need to
weave that into our story, and show forgiveness, redemption and
Gods saving grace and mercy, Hermoth said.

As I think about what you just shared with us, Shirley said,
I believe we can probably reach many unsaved people if we stop
trying to portray Christians as perfect. I know God is sick and tired of
Christians presenting themselves as perfect when we are capable of
doing some of the most wicked things known to mankind.

Tell me about it, Nikki said. Like my pastor says every now
and then: Some Christians are so heavenly minded they are no
earthly good.

Remember Dr. Justin Middlebrooks is accused of fraud by

the medical board. He is over-charging his patients. He keeps the
profits for himself. Now that his wifes dead, he wastes no time in
getting him a young hot mama, Vashti, twenty-five years younger
then he. She knows how to stroke his ego, make him feel good, make
him feel like a king. She idolizes him and makes him think hes her
everything.

Drama, drama, drama, Shirley said. That will keep your

readers attention.

Fiction is art, and all art carries a message of some sort.

Randy Ingermanson and Peter Economy

Chapter 19
Hermoth glanced at her watch. She closed her laptop. Okay,
everyone. Its time to stop by the police station. Well ride together,
and Im driving, she said rising from her seat. Looking at Clara Bow
she said with a grin, You thought I had forgotten, didnt you?

Aw, shucks! I was hoping you would have forgotten, Clara

Bow said laughing. Can we please stop by the Dawkins residence
first? Id love to be the one to show Mr. Dawkins the picture and break
the mystery.

Well see, Hermoth said. But he may be at work.

I think we should let the police handle everything, Shirley
said.

Tell you what, Hermoth said. Well swing by the Dawkins

residence to calm Clara Bows anxious mind.

More like appease her stubbornness, Nikki said with a

laugh.

Paul Dawkins answered the door when they rang the

doorbell.

Where did you get this? Thats my wifes car. That looks like
herthe shoes at least, Paul said after they showed him the picture.

As I shared with you when I interviewed you some time

back, I work as a journalist and photographer for the Sun Times,

Clara Bow said. I was randomly taking pictures and snapped that
one. The gentleman in the picture changed my tire one day when it
went flat on me on the highway. I was looking at the picture, and it
clicked that this was the same person. Anyway, we know where he
is.

We are headed down to the police station if you want to

come with us as we turn the picture over to them and tell them what
we know, Shirley said.

I dont know how to thank you ladies, Paul Dawkins said. I

thought I would go crazy not knowing whether or not shes alive. I
hope this picture will give me some answers. And thank you so much
for the cookies. My children thoroughly enjoyed them.

Youre more than welcome, the friends said.

I hope your mind is at rest now, Hermoth said to Clara Bow

as she drove them to their parked cars in the Java Bistro Cafe
parking lot after stopping by the police station. Now promise us youll
leave Mylo Easton alone.

I will, Clara Bow said.

And dont you hesitate to call us and the police if he begins
to stalk you before they arrest him, her friends said to her.
Once she got home from work later that evening, Clara Bow
worked on her book until early the next morning.
She stopped by the administration office to finalize things for
her graduation when she ran into Marla Aglaeca.

Are you ready for graduation? Marla asked.

I sure am, Clara Bow said. I just turned in my manuscript.

Have you completed yours yet?

You know me. I turn in my work at the last minute, Marla

said.

Im having a little get-together at my place on Friday. Id love

for you to come. Ill be calling our other classmates to invite them
along also. It will be at 6:30.

Id love to come, Marla said. What are your plans after

graduation?

Im not sure. Of course, Ill still keep my job at the Sun

Times. Im thinking of going for my Masters in Journalism. As you
know, I like photography, so I may pursue that as well, Clara Bow
said.

Apart from the class manuscript, have you been working on

anything else? Marla asked.

Nothing but various articles. I have another book in mind, but

Im still thinking on that.

How do you manage to work on two books at a time, plus

submit so many articles to the various places? I can only handle one
thing at a time, and thats overwhelming enough, Marla said.

Maybe you can join my writers group. Its only four of us so

far. We get together every Tuesday morning at ten for about four
hours. We offer suggestions as we read and critique each others
work. Youre welcome to join us, Clara Bow said.

Ill think about it because I need a lot of help. Ill call you if I
decide to join yall, Marla said. Wish me luck.

I wish you lots of luck in your career as a writer, Clara Bow

said.
Clara Bow and the ten members of her creative writing class
met at her apartment to celebrate their successful completion of the
course.
While the party was in full swing, Clara Bow and one of her
classmates, Ariel, went to the kitchen to replenish the bowl of chips
and the tray of ham and cheese sandwiches. Marla noticed a stack of
papers lying on the couch. She picked it up. A cover letter written to a
publisher was stapled to the front page. Marla scanned through the
pages. She has something going on here, Marla thought as she
glanced around the room to see where Clara Bow was.

I cant believe you took work with you, Ennis, another one of
their classmates said sitting down beside Marla.

Hey, Ennis, Marla said as she quickly flipped the manuscript

over. Just something I wanted Clara Bow to glance over for me. She
slipped the manuscript into her purse. So, how have things been
going?
Later that evening, after the party was over, and everyone
had left, Clara Bow sat down to look over her manuscript.

I know I left it right here on the couch, she said to herself as

she searched around for it. That copy had the suggested changes
from our meeting on Tuesday. I have not even placed them in the
final manuscript yet. Whatever could have happened to it?

Chapter 20
Sunday morning found the friends worshipping at the Coming
Messiah Church with Hermoth for her churchs 30th anniversary.
They were encouraged.

I have news for you, Nikki said to Hermoth after the

services. One of Raphaels employees, Carlos, will be getting
married. He is living in a 2-bedroom house that he built. In fact, he
has several houses which he owns, most of which he built himself;
working as a chauffeur is just a thing he does on the side for fun.
Anyway, hell be moving into another of his houses after he gets
married within the next month, so his house will be up for sale or rent.
Hes willing to negotiate if youre interested. Raphael can fill you in on
the details.
Raphael got Carlos on the phone to set up a time for Hermoth
to stop by to see the house the following day.

God is good, Hermoth said to her friends as they sat down

in their booth at the Java Bistro Cafe. I cant believe Ive been paying
$900 per month for a 1-bedroom apartment, and here I am getting
ready to move into a 2-bedroom house for $675.00 per month. God is
not just good. He is great!

Praise the Lord! her friends said.

Now, Ill be able to focus on my writing undisturbed,
Hermoth said. Im also thinking about sharing with my pastor the
idea of writing a book on the history of the Coming Messiah Church
and its mission and work in the community. It has a very interesting
history.

I can tell, Shirley said. I enjoyed the anniversary services

tremendously. Doug was even talking about visiting again.

You all are welcome anytime, Hermoth said. We have a

black pastor, and we are mostly a black congregation, but as you
could tell we have a good mixture of races.

Thats what I love to see, Nikki said. We all claim to love

the same God, so why cant we fellowship and worship together
every now and then without any drama? But thats a topic for another
time.

And possibly another book in the making, Hermoth said.

Why dont you pursue that one?

Mmm. Thats worth thinking about, Nikki said.

I want to thank you all for your feedback on my Missing
Moms book. I somehow misplaced the hard copy. I was getting ready
to finish putting in the final suggestions you all gave me, now I cant
even find it. Its the one that I had scribbled your suggestions on off to
the side. If you can remember them, Ill need your help. Anyway, Ill
be submitting it to several publishers, Clara Bow said, and probably
some family magazines for possible serial publication.

Whats serial publication? Nikki asked.

Its a form of publishing that is seeing a revival today.
Charles Dickens and others used to write in this manner years ago,
Clara Bow said. Its when you have a book thats not fully completed,
or it could be fully completed, but you want to get it out before the
public, and you have it printed several chapters at a timeweekly, biweekly, or monthlyin a magazine or newspaper, or some other
publication.

Thats interesting, Nikki said.

I heard something about that, but I havent had the time to

read up on it yet, Shirley said.

It has its advantages, Clara Bow said. One, its a great way
to advertise your full book. Two, readers can provide feedback on
each episode as it is being printed so you can edit and rewrite as you
go along. Three, you dont have to rush to write the whole book all at
once. Four, it teaches you discipline as you have to meet publication
deadlines.

Maybe thats the route I need to go with Kanitra, Nikki said.

Speaking of Kanitra, do you have anything written that you
want to share with us? Shirley asked.
Nikki meekly opened up her writing pad and began reading.
Kanitra woke up at 7:30 A.M. in the morning. She opened her
eyes. She looked around her room. She stretched then climbed out
of bed. She yawned a couple times, no three times. She then put her
robe on and went to the bathroom where she flossed and brushed
her teeth, washed her face, brushed her hair. She stepped into the
tub for a shower. She then took her big and fluffy red towel and dried
herself. When she went back in her room, she put her native Indian
dress on real slow as she did not want to wear those things any
more. To her they were ugly, cheap, and outdated. I hate these
clothes, she said.

Hows that so far? Nikki asked.

Well help you fix it up, Shirley said.
Its that bad, huh? Nikki said.
We have something to work with, Hermoth said. Lets see.
She took the writing pad and silently read two more pages, then
passed it to Shirley and Clara Bow.

One, dont begin your story with the mundane everyday

things; if you do, dont detail it and tell every little action. You have to
grab your readers attention from the get-go, Hermoth said.

And the readers dont care how many times Kanitra yawns,
Shirley said. And everyone, generally speaking, performs similar
morning rituals when they wake up. You dont need to detail that. Its
called insulting the readers intelligence. If you do that, theyll toss the
book aside never to pick it up again. And theyll remember your name
and never purchase another book that you write.

Create a more solid setting; something the readers can

picture in their minds, Clara Bow said.

Lets begin by cutting the excess, Hermoth said. How

about: Sixteen-year-old Kanitra woke up at exactly 7:30. She looked
around her near empty bedroom. Except for her bed and a dresser
with the left knob missing from the top drawer, the only other things
were statues of the Hindu gods. Kanitra was a native of India. After
showering, she pulled one of her native dresses out of the closet. I
hate these ugly things, she said, and these stupid shoes. Thats
about half the words you originally used. Make it short and spicy,

Thanks, Nikki said. Ill work on it some more.

Before we go any further, lets pull up Elements of Style by
William Strunk and E.B. White on our laptops and refresh our
memories, Shirley said.

Thats a good idea, her friends said.

After two solid hours of work, and before calling it a day,
Hermoth said to Clara Bow as they gathered their things, I know this
may set your mailing date behind, but before you submit your
manuscript for publishing, I think you should wait until your professor

has looked it over. Im sure hell provide some valuable suggestions

that you could incorporate to make it an even better read.

I never thought about that. Thanks for the advice, Hermoth. I

certainly will, Clara Bow said. Ill run it by you all again once I
receive the manuscript back from him.

Chapter 21
After a full days work on the job, Hermoth returned home to
find a weird arrangement on her dinner table. All twelve of her
drinking glasses were arranged in a neat row in the center of the
table. There was a single panel of paper towels neatly folded in the
shape of a triangle sticking out of each glass. In front of them, also
arranged in a neat row, were all twenty of her coffee cups. Taking a
second look, Hermoth noticed half the coffee cup handles were
turned to the left and the other half were turned to the
right. Weird, Hermoth thought.

Papa, Im home! she called out.

Receiving no answer, she immediately went to her fathers
bedroom. He was sitting against the headboard with both knees up
under his chin. He looked up at Hermoth with a satisfied smile on his
face.

Oh, no! Hermoth said as she looked around. Her three

hundred page manuscript of Dr. Justin Middlebrooks was neatly
spread out across the floor and on his bed. Greatly restraining herself
from yelling at her father, she calmly responded, You did a great job,
Papa. I can tell youve had a busy day. Stay right where you are. Ill
pick everything up.
I just hope everything is in order. Im glad I numbered the
pages. Wow! What other surprises are in store for me?
Hermoth conversed with her father as she quickly picked up
the sheets of papers. No! No. Please dont touch that, she said as
her father started to pick up the manuscript pages that were laying on
the bed. Ill get it. Just dont touch it.

Hermoth did not let his disappointed look sway her. She
escorted him into the kitchen once she got done and sat him down at
the kitchen table where she could keep an eye on him as she
prepared the evening meal. Let me put these glasses and coffee
cups away. I wish I had a camera so we could take a picture of your
wonderful artwork. I wish we could keep them there, but we need the
table for other things. She turned the television up so she could
catch snatches of the news while she prepared the meal.

Papa, you hardly touched your lunch, Hermoth said as she

noticed his lunch still sitting on the counter next to the microwave
where she had left it earlier. She pretended not to notice him taking
the napkins out of the napkin holder and laying them in neat rows
covering the entire tabletop. He then looked at her with a satisfied
smile as if awaiting her approval.

Thats very neat. You did a great job, Hermoth said. She
made a mental note to give her sister a call later that night.

Hows Papa doing? her sister, Pamela, asked when she got
on the phone.
Hermoth related to her sister their fathers strange behaviors.

Oh, I forgot to tell you, hes obsessed with paper products,

Pamela said. Dont be surprised if you come home one evening and
your rooms have been redecorated with toilet paper and paper
towels.

I guess I better get to hiding them then, Hermoth said dryly.

Another thing, her sister said, he loves to look at sports
magazines. Hell sit all day and look through the same magazine over
and over. So stack up on those.

Another thing, Hermoth said, sometimes he wont eat. Hell

sit and rearrange the food on the plate without spilling any of it. Im
worried. If it gets worse hell waste away.

I wouldnt worry about that yet, Pamela said. When he gets

hungry enough, hell eat. Hows Dr. Justin Middlebrooks coming
along? Is he alive or dead?

Oh, he died of a heart attack while he was in jail. Vashti is

now a millionaire, but she cannot enjoy all that money because she is
faced with making the decision as to whether or not to help Pierre out
by giving some of it to the inmate Pierre hired to kill Dr.
Middlebrooks.

I thought Middlebrooks died of heart complications, Pamela

said.

He did. The inmate who was supposed to kill him with the
promise of being set free found him dead the night he went to kill him.
He lied and told Pierre that he killed Middlebrooks. Pierre was unable
to talk the judge into setting the inmate free. Now the inmate has
Pierre on the run for his life as one of his cronies on the outside is
stalking Pierre and sending him threatening mail. They want the
inmate set free as well as $250,000 cash. Pierre is now hounding
Vashti for the money.

Did Pierre and Vashti get married?

Vashti has it on hold after finding out Pierres conniving
scheme to kill Middlebrooks; she feels caught in the middle, Hermoth
said.

I cant wait to get my copy, Pamela said. And, Hermoth, I

know I give you a hard time, but youre a great big sister. Take care of
Papa. I hope to see you soon.

Bye, Pamela. I love you, Hermoth said.

An author in his book must be like God in the universe, present

everywhere and visible nowhere.

Gustave Flaubert

Chapter 22
Clara Bow faithfully kept in touch with Chief Bartlett at the
police station. Within a weeks time, Mylo Easton was arrested and
charged with the abduction of Mayzie Dawkins.

I cant believe I was in the company of an abductor, Clara

Bow said to her friends as they discussed her manuscript. He
seemed like just a regular guy: friendly, well-mannered.

Thats why you cant trust everybody you meet no matter

how friendly and well-mannered they seem, Hermoth said.

Im just happy for the Dawkins family, Nikki said. And to

think you, Clara Bow Wilson, broke the mystery of the missing
moms.

Thank you, Clara Bow said, taking a slight bow. Sobering

up, she said, Chief Bartlett shared with me that more is being
revealed to them as they carry out further investigation. His real
name is Winston Grubbs. Hes wanted in California for murdering his
girlfriend.

What!? her friends said.

Yes. The motive is not clear yet, but the California police had
been on the lookout for him for some months now, Clara Bow said
with a shudder. After they finalize all court proceedings with him,
theyre going to turn him over to the California police.

Why did he abduct Dawkins in the first place and where was
he hiding her? Shirley asked.

He was holding her hostage in the basement of his house.

He would not give a reason for abducting her. He had repainted her
car and had parked it behind his house. They sent his fingerprints
and physical description through some central office that serves all
the law enforcement offices nationwide. Chief Bartlett said he would
talk to me more about how it all works, Clara Bow said. He tried to
deny the charges, but he could not deny the picture.

I can imagine how scared Mayzie must have been, Nikki

said.

She said she was scared every day because she did not
know what each day held; she kept wondering if she would come out
alive. She said he mentioned something about taking her to California
to be his wife. Chief Bartlett received a picture of the girlfriend and
she had a slight resemblance to Mayzie Dawkins. They are guessing
he planned on returning to California or to wherever having married
Mayzie, thus leading people to believe she was the girlfriend they
thought he had killed hoping to throw off all suspicions.

Creepy, Shirley said.

Tell me about it, Clara Bow said.
Now did you put all that into your book? Shirley asked. I
dont recall reading any of that when we did the final proofreading.

Yes. I had to go back and insert it after you all proofread it. I
did not speak with Chief Bartlett until the day before yesterday. Im
going to attend the trial so I can add that to the book. Maybe its a
good thing I lost my manuscript after all, Clara Bow said.

That will be good. But you had better wear some shades and

fix your hair a totally different way maybe dye it lest Mylo
recognizes you and plans an escape to come after you, Hermoth
teased.

I do not even want to think about that possibility, Clara Bow

said. Chief Bartlett gave me the option of testifying or not. I have not
decided yet. He did mention a possible life sentence for him, so I am
not worried about him coming after me.
*****
Shirley had just returned home after picking her children up
from school when the house phone rang. Her husband had already
left to go to work.

Tomorrow, the anonymous caller said with a muffled voice

then hung up.
After receiving two more similar calls, she gave her husband
a call. What do you think? she asked. Do you think it has anything
to do with the Christmas Day shooting and the threat letter Chief
Bartlett received?

Ill let Chief Bartlett know right away and see what he thinks,
Doug said. Do not answer the door for anyone; I do not care who it
is.
Shirley received a call back from her husband an hour later.
Ricardos and Boises wives also received a similar call. There was
no one at Raleighs house. Chief Bartlett gave him permission to
swing by his house to see if the caller may have called there and left
a message on his answering machine. Chief says to move you and
the children out of the house early tomorrow and to plan on staying
out all day into the next day. I want you to call a hotel and reserve a
room for tonight and tomorrow. Go to the hotel as soon as you can.

Call me before you leave the house.

Are you going to meet us there? Shirley asked.

Im going to escort you there, Doug said.

Chapter 23
When Hermoth arrived at the Java Bistro Cafe the following
Tuesday morning, Clara Bow was already in place thumbing through
her Missing Moms manuscript.

Hey, Clara Bow. I see you found your manuscript, Hermoth

said.

No. This is the one I turned in to my professor, Clara Bow

said. I took your advice and waited to see my professors comments
before sending it off to the publisher. Im glad I did; he made some
valuable comments. Listen to what he said about this paragraph.

That makes sense, Hermoth said after Clara Bow finished

reading. What grade did he give you?

An A, Clara said in a sing-song voice.

They were looking over Clara Bows manuscript when Shirley
arrived with her three children.

Good morning, Hermoth. Good morning, Clara Bow, Shirley

said. Children, say hello to Ms. Hermoth and Ms. Clara Bow.

No school, today? Hermoth said.

Nope. Not for these three, Shirley said.
Nikki came in as Shirley was pulling up extra chairs for her
children. Once everyone was seated, Shirley shared with them the
circumstance that led to her children accompanying her to their
meeting.

I cant believe hes still following through with his threat,

Nikki said.

Its more than a threat, Shirley said. Ive been listening to

the news since early this morning to see what he meant by the word
tomorrow, which is today. Doug stopped by the house about an hour
ago. He said everything is as we left it. If you all dont mind, Im going
to leave my laptop open on the news channel. The man did mention
something about contacting the TV station when he got ready for
tomorrow.

How long will you be at the hotel? Hermoth asked.

Definitely today and tomorrow, Shirley said. Doug will be by
to escort us home . . . well, to the hotel once were done here.

Well certainly be praying for your safety as well as for the

safety of the other families, Nikki said. Why dont we pray now.

I see another novel in the making, Clara Bow said after they
finished praying. I dont mean to take this lightly, Shirley, but I am
always looking for story ideas based on real life events. I can see it
now: The Christmas Day Tragedy, or Nine Months After, or

Or lets get to work, Hermoth said.

Say, Clara Bow, I was scanning through the Good Reads
section of the Intercollegiate Magazine that I write for, and I saw a
new book similar to yours. Let me see if I can remember the title,
Nikki said wrinkling up her face. The search for the missing mother.
Yes. Thats it: The Search for the Missing Mother.

Really? Clara Bow said as she looked through more of her

professors comments. As soon as I incorporate the changes
suggested by my professor, Ill be sending it off to a few publishers,
Clara Bow said. Two have already expressed interest. If I dont hear
from them soon after I send it off, Im publishing it as a serial novel
either through the Sun Times or through another notable magazine.

Im working on the manager of the Sun Times about starting a serial

novel

column.

If

that

does

not

work

out,

think Good

Housekeeping or some other similar magazine would be interested.

You know what? Ever since you pulled that stunt going out
with that abductor and murderer, Ive been praying harder for you,
Hermoth said. I was up last night thinking about you and what if you
had been abducted. Worse yet: what if you had been murdered. I got
concerned for you. With all that said, Clara Bow, if he had killed you,
do you know where you would end up? What Im asking is: do you
know whether or not you would go to Heaven or Hell?

I hope I would go to Heaven, Clara Bow chuckled. I mean,

who would want to go to Hell?

You cant hope about something as important as that; you

have to know for sure, Hermoth said.

Well, I go to church every now and then, and I try to be good

and think about good and positive things. I dont always succeed at
that, Clara Bow said, but I try.

There is something much better than trying, Hermoth said.

The Bible does say all our righteousness or our good deeds, are as
filthy rags. In other words, there is nothing good that we can do that
will please God enough for Him to let us enter Heaven to live with
Him forever.

Really? Clara Bow said.

Yes. Let me show you from the Bible how you can go to
Heaven when you die, Hermoth said, pulling up her New Testament
on her computer. The Bible does say there is not a just man upon
this earth who does only good and never sins. In other words, all of
us have sinned. Because all of us have sinned, we all are destined

for Hell. But God loves us so much He provided a way for us to

bypass Hell, and that is through His Son, Jesus Christ. The Bible
says, without the shedding of blood there is no remission for sins.
Jesus died and shed His blood for all our sins.

John 3:16 tells us, For God so loved the world (that includes
you and me) that He gave His only begotten Son (Jesus Christ), that
whosoever (you and I) believeth in Him should not perish (in Hell),
but have everlasting life (in Heaven). Do you believe that you are a
sinner, Clara Bow?

Yes, I do.
Do you believe you can enter Heaven in your sinful state?
No.
Do you believe Jesus shed His blood for your sins to make it
possible for you to go to Heaven?

Yes, I do.
Are you willing to ask Jesus to forgive you of your sins?
Sure.
Then after that, are you willing to invite Him, through prayer,
into your life to live with you forever?

Sure.
The Bible says, that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the
Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him
from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For whosoever shall call upon
the name of the Lord shall be saved. Are you willing to call upon
Jesus to save you?

Sure.

Pray this prayer with me: Dear God, I realize that I am a

sinner and that I have sinned against You. For Jesus Christs sake,
please forgive me of all my sins. I now believe that Jesus Christ died
for my sins, but He rose from the dead giving me the victory over my
sins. Lord Jesus, please come into my heart, save my soul, fill me
with Your Holy Spirit, and change my life. Help me now to begin living
for You. In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

Chapter 24
The others opened their eyes to see Clara Bow wiping her
eyes; she had a smile on her face.

Thank you, Hermoth. Now I know for sure where Ill go when
I die, Clara Bow said.

Youre more than welcome, Hermoth said.

While you were talking with Clara Bow, I realized I have not
been living as I should as a Christian, Shirley said. I prayed along
with you asking Jesus to save me and to give me the assurance of
my salvation. Ive never doubted His love for me or anything like that.
I just strayed away from Christ, and doing things like going to church
and reading my Bible regularly, and of course, praying more. I guess I
got caught up in family life and my priorities got all mixed up.

I dont always live as I should either, Hermoth said. I have

to renew my walk with the Lord every day.

Whenever you begin to doubt Gods love for you or doubt

that youre even saved, heres a verse to keep in mind, Nikki said.
Its found in the book of St. John, I believe. It says that no man will
be able to pluck you out of the heavenly Fathers hand once you are
saved. God holds you in His protective hands for ever.

What do I do going forward? Clara Bow asked.

Read your Bible everyday; pray every day throughout the
day; go to church every Sunday and to mid-week prayer meeting.
And let me be the first to invite you again to my church, Hermoth
said.

Ill be there this Sunday, Clara Bow said.

Shall we call it a day? Hermoth said.
The other women nodded in consent.

How has your father been doing? Nikki asked Hermoth as

they gathered their things.

Im seriously thinking of writing that book on living with an

Alzheimers relative, especially now that Im finished with Dr. Justin
Middlebrooks, Hermoth said. Ive had to put up with some
interesting things that are beyond human explanation. One evening
we sat at the dinner table engaged in sensible conversation and then
at the drop of a hat, he started talking weird like I was a complete
stranger.
*****
Hermoth noticed her father had stopped eating and was
staring at her. Is everything alright, Papa?
Receiving no response, she repeated the question.

Who are you? her father finally answered. Ive never seen
you before.

Papa, its me, Hermoth, your daughter.

Daughter? Whats a daughter?
Im a daughter. You have two of us. You have two daughters
Pamela and Hermoth.

I dont know you. Should you be here in my house? Oh, I

know. You need help. Do you want me to call for help?
Taking the advice of the director at the elderly home, Hermoth
spoke with her father as though they were carrying on an intelligent

conversation.
*****

I just had to let the conversation run its course, Hermoth

said. One lunch hour I decided to check on him. He had my entire
living room redecorated with toilet paper and paper towels. You know
how frugal I am; I was not going to let it go to waste. I set him down
beside me as I showed him how to roll the toilet paper up. He got it
after a few tries. I read that Alzheimers patients will meticulously
repeat an action for hours. I figured hed be at it long enough for me
to finish the few hours I had left on the job for that day, so I slipped
out and returned to work. When I returned, sitting in the middle of the
floor was the largest and neatest toilet paper roll I had ever seen. And
I dont know how he figured this out, but he perfectly stacked the
paper towels by panels one on top of the other. It was a pretty high
stack.

Never a dull moment, Shirley said as they all chuckled.

What took the cake was, one evening I was in the shower. I
had left him sitting on the sofa watching ESPN. Hell watch sports for
hours so I was not worried. Anyway, when I came out of the shower
he was gone. He sure was, Hermoth said nodding her head. He
was gone. I searched the backyard and the front yard. I looked up the
street and down the street as far as my eyes could see. I got in my
car and drove up the street and down the street, turning into the side
streets and peering into the neighbors yards. I was getting ready to
call 9-1-1 when I saw a police car turn on my street. Something told
me to follow it. The police car stopped about six houses down from
my house. I introduced myself and told the two officers about my
missing father.
*****

I believe we know where your father might be, one of the

officers said.

We received a phone call from this house. The lady said

there was a strange man in her backyard pushing on her childrens
swings.
While the first officer rang the doorbell, Hermoth walked with
the other officer to the back yard. Sure enough, her father was there
innocently pushing the empty swings. After apologizing to the
homeowner, Hermoth escorted her father home.
*****

I immediately started looking into that senior living

community across town. If he wanders off like that and Im home;
theres no telling what hell do when Im gone. The next time he may
not be so lucky.

Every good poem begins as the poets but ends as the readers.
Miller Williams

Chapter 25
Shirley and her friends were watching the news channel on
her laptop. As she was about to turn the live feed off, a breaking news
alert flashed on the screen. Shirley turned the volume up. They all fell
silent as they listened to the reporter give the update: Our station
manager received a disturbing phone call from a man who identified
himself as Hal Kemp. Hal Kemp left a message and I quote: You
people want some real news, well, I have some real news for you.
Meet me at 302 Rosy Lane, 27 Dixie St., 49 Cumbersome Rd, and
1421 Stonehurst Rd. Ill have some real news for you. Dont even
contact the police as they are a sorry excuse for a department. End
of quote. Whether this is a hoax or not, stay tuned to find out.

Oh,

my

goodness!

Shirley

exclaimed.

Forty-nine

Cumbersome Rd. Thats our address! Let me call Doug. Thirty

seconds later, she was off the phone again. He says to stay put,
Shirley said after she hung up the phone. They have not heard
anything else from Hal Kemp. Hes going to call Chief Bartlett and call
me right back.
The ladies turned their eyes back to their writing pads but
kept their ears on the news and waited anxiously for another update.
Within five minutes, the same reporter came on again.
A lone gunman, whom we assume is Hal Kemp, has opened
fire at 27 Dixie St. The houses front windows have been shattered.
Kemp entered the house randomly firing his gun. Thank God no one
was home. Based on the disturbing phone call our station manager
received earlier, our crew was already at this address. The police

have been notified; they are on their way. We have dispatched other
news reporters to the other three locations. To which one hes
headed next, we can only guess. Stay tuned.

Shirleys phone rang. Shirley, are you still at the cafe? her
husband asked.

Yes.
You and the children stay there. Chief Bartlett just received a
phone call from Hal Kemp. Hes headed towards one of the other
residences. He just fired rounds of bullets through Boises house.
Thank God his family was already out of the house. Chief Bartlett has
sent officers out to the other locations. Bye. Got to go. I have to go in
early as the department can use all the help they can get at this time.
Love you now.

Doug, be careful. Love you, Shirley said.

The ladies turned their full attention to the news. Hal Kemp
was successful in his attack on Stonehurst Rd. He shattered all the
front windows of the house and did great damage to the family van
parked in the driveway.
By the time the deranged gunman left his second stop en
route to his third destinationCumbersome Roadpolice officers,
including Doug, were already in place there. Other officers were
already at the Rosy Lane location.
*****
Police cars were parked as road blocks on either side of
Shirley and Dougs house on Cumbersome Road. We want to take
him alive, Chief Bartlett said. Only fire if your life is in danger. The
neighbors have already been alerted and they are out of harms way.

Hal Kemp careened his black SUV up the street at full speed
and slammed into the police cars blocking his path. He backed up,
then slammed into the cars again and again. Making a quick left turn,
he drove on to the neighbors lawn, knocking the mailbox down in the
process. Parking his SUV before the front door of the house, he rolled
his window down and started shooting.
Doug and his fellow officers hid behind the other parked cars
with guns in hand. Chief Bartlett spoke over the bullhorn ordering Hal
Kemp to put his weapon down but to no avail. Doug and another
officer shot holes in the tires of his SUV. Hal Kemp jumped out of the
SUV and ran into the house having blown the lock off the front door.
Positioning himself by one of the upstairs windows he fired round
after round of bullets at the police officers and the police cars.

Well wait him out, Chief Bartlett said to his men. Hold your
fire.
The stand-off lasted an hour. They heard shots fired at
random inside the house as Hal Kemp moved from room to room.
*****
Shirley and the others watched as another reporter brought
the incident to them live.
It has been revealed that Hal Kemp is the husband, father,
and only survivor of the family that underwent that horrendous
Christmas Day shooting last year. It seems he is still angry and has
decided to take matters into his own hands. Stay tuned.

Theres Doug, Hermoth said pointing to the screen as the

cameraman zeroed in on the officers crouching behind the police
cars.

Thank God hes safe, Shirley said.

A physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted Hal Kemp,

having used up all his bullets, stumbled out the front door holding his
head in his hands, bawling. I lost them! I lost the only people I ever
loved! Theres no need for me to live any longer. With slumped
shoulders, he allowed two of the officers to place handcuffs on him
and quietly lead him into one of their vehicles.
Shirley and her friends said a quiet prayer for him before
disbanding.

Chapter 26
Nikki and Clara Bow met up at Shirleys house the following
evening to help her clean up the damage. Hermoth joined them later
in the evening.

Thank God all this can be replaced, Shirley said as she

picked up a shattered picture of the family that had been shot down
from the wall. Its the memories that count.

The most important things were saved you, Doug, and

the children, Nikki said. Thats all that matters.

I can understand Hal Kemps anger; he only wants justice.

And I guess we are all like that to some degree, Hermoth said. We
want righted what has been wronged against us.

But to take it out on the police who answered your 9-1-1 call,
placing themselves in danger to protect you I cannot understand
that, Clara Bow said. Have they even caught the murderer yet?

No, not yet, Shirley said shaking her head. By the way,
hows your father doing, Hermoth?
Hermoth let out a long sigh. Hes getting worse and rapidly. I
hate to do this, but Im left with no other choice: Im going to have to
either hire someone to keep an eye on him during the hours I cant be
with him, or place him in the Covenant Place senior community
center across town. Im leaning more toward the latter.

Ive seen the Covenant Place ad run on television, Nikki

said. It seems like a great place to spend ones last years.

Ive read some good reviews about it online, Hermoth said.

I stopped by there a while back and they offer a choice of
apartments including full bath with kitchenettes, plus trained staff 24-

hours a day, licensed vocational nurses, individualized care plans,

recreational activities planned by an activity director, weekly
housekeeping, and laundry services, transportation, and a bunch of
other things. The plus for me is, hell have someone to interact with
during the daytime and at nights as well.

That sounds like a winner, Shirley said.

From an article I read, researchers concluded that
Alzheimers patients need to be around other people. Right now, hes
home by himself all day. After he wandered off, I got scared as to
what hell do next. Of course, Ill continue taking him to all church
activities including Sunday services and other social events around
town, Hermoth said.

Well certainly be praying that all works out well, Clara Bow
said.

The friends met again the following Tuesday for their weekly
get-together. It was a memorable time as each put the finishing
touches on their manuscript and discussed future plans.

Have you sent off your manuscript yet, Clara Bow? Nikki
asked.

I sure did, but come to find out, both publishing companies I

sent it to were going out of business. I was surprised being that I had
just spoken with one of the editors less than a month ago, so Im still
seeking out new places to submit it to, Clara Bow said.

Some of these companies cannot keep up with the fast pace

at which the publishing world is moving, Hermoth said. Print-ondemand has taken over; now we have ebooks that are becoming
more and more popular.

Youre right, Shirley said. Who would want to tote around

three or four printed books when they can read it off their electronic
device that weighs less than half a pound. Thousands of books are
on that little device, and I can tap into any book I wantfiction or
nonfictionat the press of a few buttons.

Even better, what writer would want hundreds of his book

just sitting in a warehouse somewhere waiting for his books to sell
when he can have his book printed as it is ordered? Hermoth said.
The internet age is putting a lot of bookstores, libraries, and printing
companies out of business. Ive been thinking and praying about this:
what do you all think of the four of us starting our own publishing
company? We already have a name: Sister Soul Scribes. Ive been
reading up on it and looking into some things. I would think all wed
need is a few interior design programs and a graphic design program.
Clara Bow, youre good at that.

Thats right down my alley, Clara Bow said. Keep on

talking. Im already seeing the vision. We can begin with my Missing
Moms book.

How will we get physical books printed? Nikki asked. That

kind of equipment must cost a lot of money.

Ive been looking into all that, Hermoth said. Once were
satisfied with our proof-reading and editing, and have the book sized
down and type-set to specification, we send it off to a print-ondemand company; theyll take care of that aspect for us.

What about shipping the books out? Shirley asked.

Theyll take care of that for us. Well get a printer thats
hooked up with Amazon. Im still looking into how it all works,
Hermoth said.

How much money are we talking here? Shirley asked.

Those printers are not going to do all that work for free.

Thats right, Hermoth said. We will pay them a low cost per
book to get the books printed as well as the shipping and handling
cost.
Hermoth tapped a few keys to bring up a publishing website.
They scanned the pages. Proofreading, editing, typesetting, cover
design. Printing and shipping charges are separate. I dont see how
they can stay in business; look at how much they are charging. We
lower our prices and we will be in business. Do you see where Im
going? Shirley, Nikki, and Clara Bow nodded their heads as they
read along with Hermoth. We still have a lot of reading and research
to do on this new venture, but I believe it will be an exciting one. If it
takes off, Ill quit my job. So, are you three with me on this?

Count me in, Clara Bow said.

Me, too, Shirley said.
This is going to be so exciting. I cant wait to share it with
Raphael, Nikki said.

Chapter 27
Thats a vanity press, Hermoth said to Shirley after Shirley
asked her about a particular publisher at their next meeting. All they
do is charge you a lot of money to publish your book, and then they
leave you to do the rest. You have to promote it yourself. Look at
that. Hermoth pointed to a number on the screen. They wont print
less than 300 books. And look how much they are charging:
$3500.00. Thats a rip-off. Stay away from them or youll end up with
books stacked up on your bedroom floor.

If Clara Bow hasnt gotten a publisher yet with as many

hooks shes placed out there, whos to say Ill get one anytime soon?
Shirley said. Where is she anyway?

Beats me, Nikki said. Whenever she turns up late, she

normally has great news to share with us. Let me give her a call.

Shirley, were going to bypass the middle man, the agent,

and submit our books directly to the publisher. I have a Christian
publishing company in mind. I ran across them a couple days back.
Their prices are up there with the rest, but they offer you a choice of
three payment plans. They are hooked up with Amazon and once you
get into their system, they print your book as customers order it. They
also offer you so much more: free ads, two cover designs to choose
from, five free books, plus, you keep the copyright to your book.
Hermoth pulled up the website for them to look at.

Whats up with Clara Bow? Shirley asked after Nikki got off
the phone.

She is mad. Said something about a classmate stealing her

book. She couldnt talk, but shell be on her way as soon as she
wraps up her meeting with her professor, Nikki said.

Okay, well just wait until she gets here then, Hermoth said.
Turning her attention back to the website, she said, Im looking at
payment plan C for myself.

That seems the less stressful one for me to handle

financially, especially with the repairs still being done on the house,
Shirley said. Let me talk with Doug first to see which one we can
comfortably afford.

Say, Nikki, we havent heard anything about Lanitra, the

immigrant girl from India, Shirley said.

Ive been working on another book, Nikki said with a smile.

I want to surprise you all with it. Thats why I have not said anything.
Give me a couple more weeks.

Okay. I cant wait to read it, Shirley and Hermoth said.

Ive read what I have already written to Raphael, and he
believes I have something that will be worth reading.
*****

Here you go, Raphael said handing Nikki a hot cup of

coffee. Hows your new book coming along?Lanitra is it?

Thank you, Nikki said taking her cup of coffee and taking a
few sips. The new book is coming along fine, but its not Lanitra.

Oh, shucks! I got attached to Lanitra. What happened to

her?

I sent her back to India. Shes having a hard time blending

into the American school system, Nikki said with a giggle.

Oh, man. I was hoping she would make it. I thought for sure
the twins would have a friend for life as you write other books about
Lanitra, Raphael said. With a laugh, he added, Youre the only writer

I know who gets rid of her characters before they get to chapter ten.

Im the only writerwell, aspiring writerthat you know,

she said hitting him on the shoulder with her notepad. I may raise
some of those characters from the dead in the future. Right now I
have some new charactersfour of themwho I think you and my
readers are going to love.

Introduce them to me, Raphael said taking a couple sips of

his coffee as he stretched his legs out in front of him.

See, these four ladies, whose paths crossed in an unusual

way, developed a friendship that lasted for their entire lives. They
know each others weaknesses and strengths; they shed tears with
and for each other; they laugh with and at each other; they share a
bond that could not be broken; all four share the same passion and
thats what drew them together.

Go on, Raphael said as Nikki paused. She had a

contemplative look on her face.

Ill tell you more about it later; Im about to shed some tears,
Nikki said.
Raphael placed a hand on his wifes shoulder giving it an
affectionate squeeze. I cant wait to read it; I believe you have
something that will be worth reading, he said. Do you want me to
wait around and drop the girls off at school this morning so you can
keep on writing?

Thanks for the offer, but you go on ahead; Ill take care of
the girls, Nikki said giving her husband a hug.

*****
I cant wait to read it, Hermoth said. We knew you could do
it.

Nikki smiled.

Here comes Clara Bow, Shirley said. She looks mad as a

bull.

A classic is classic . . . because of a certain eternal and irrepressible

freshness.
Ezra Pound

Chapter 28
The friends watched Clara Bow as she approached their table.

Good morning, Clara Bow, they said as she pulled her chair out
and sat down.

There is absolutely nothing good about this morning, Clara Bow

said. And after I tell you what has taken place, I think all of you will
agree with me.
Shirley poured Clara Bow some coffee. They waited while Clara
Bow added milk and sugar and drank the entire cup of coffee down
all at once. She reached into her laptop carry-bag and pulled out a
book, which she slammed down on the table.

This is what I am so mad about, she said.

The Missing Mother, by Marla Aglaeca, Nikki read. Thats the
book I was telling you about. Whats so upsetting about this book?

The author, here Clara Bow made air quotes Marla

Aglaeca, was one of the students in my creative writing class. She is
lazy, lacks self-confidence, always turns in her work late; frankly,
shes a wanna-be writer. She stole my manuscript and had it printed
and then had the audacity to put her name on the cover as its
author, Clara Bow said.

What?
And thats not all. She had the gall to sign a copy with a note

that says read it for me, Nikki. I do not even want to read it again.
Its right on the introduction page.

Thanks for everything. Youve been a great friend, Nikki read.

Thanks for everything. Youve been a great friend, Clara Bow
repeated sarcastically. Thanks for leaving your manuscript out so I
could steal it is what she really should have written. Youve been a
great friend. No, Ive been too great a friend.

How could she steal it? Nikki asked.

Remember when I had the little get-together at my place the last
day of class when I invited all my classmates? I left my Missing
Moms manuscript with the cover letter to the publishers on the side
table next to the couch. I was doing a final reading after incorporating
the suggestions you all had given me including comments made by
the police chief. After everyone left, I could not find it. I did not think
for one second that any of them stole it. But one of them did: Marla.
Now I know why she left so suddenly.

How did you get a signed copy?

When I came home yesterday it was lying between my front
door and the screen doorhot off the press. The one I pre-ordered
has not arrived yet. This just makes me so angry! Clara Bow said.
Hermoth flipped to the acknowledgements page and started
reading. Listen to this, Clara Bow: A special thank you to my very
best friend Clara Bow Wilson. She misspelled friend. Thank you for
making the printing of this book a reality.

I know she didnt! Clara Bow said taking the book and reading it
for herself. She did! I did not even read this page. Hermoth, she
kicked your name off and replaced it with someone elses. She left
Shirleys and Nikkis and some others. She kicked off a few more.

Taking the book back, Hermoth read the introduction. Seems like
she rewrote the introduction. This does not sound like your writing,
Clara Bow. You have a certain way with your words. On top of that,
Hermoth said, run-on sentences, comma splices. Did she take
English before taking your class?

She was in too much of a rush to retype the whole book and get
it printed before I discovered it was missing, she probably didnt have
time to proofread it. The book is full of misspellings and other
grammatical errors, Clara Bow said.

Did she make any other changes? Shirley asked.

Yes. I stayed up all night reading the book and blowing steam at
the turn of every page. She changed the names of all the characters
and reworded a sentence here and there. I originally had twenty-four
chapters; she split the chapters and now it is forty-eight chapters. She
changed the description of some of the characters but was not
consistent with it throughout. Look at page twenty-four. This Donna,
which is Mayzie Dawkins, has freckles. Now look at page sixty-seven;
Mayzie Dawkins has a blemish-free face. And theres a bunch more.
Shes mutilated my book, and shes going to payseverely, Clara
Bow said.

What are you going to do? Nikki asked.

Im going to take her through the ringer for all shes worth; Im
going to sue her.

Sue her? her friends exclaimed.

Sue who? Tamron said walking up with a fresh pot of coffee.
Hi, Tamron, the friends greeted their waitress.
Whatever it is, I didnt do it, Tamron said with a smile.

A classmate stole Clara Bows new book, had it printed, and

then placed her name on it as the author, Hermoth said showing the
book to Tamron.

Chapter 29
Putting the coffee pot down, Tamron flipped through the pages of
the book. I remember you all discussing this book. I didnt even know
you could steal an entire book. Whoever did this ought to be put in jail
and whatever money she received from it ought to go to you, Tamron
said.

You got that right, Clara Bow said. I even had you in the book
playing a major part.

Sue her then, Tamron said.

Yes. Im going to sue the pants or the dress off her whatever the
case may be. All that hard work I put into it, even endangering my life
to add some real life suspense to it. Im not going to let her get off
easily. What she did is the height of plagiarism.

How are you going to prove this was your original work?
Tamron asked.

All four of you will be my witnesses. You all heard me talk about
the book; you all read it and gave suggestions; you saw the picture;
you know about the dinner date I had with Mylo Easton to prove my
theory. My next set of witnesses will be the police chief and a couple
others on the force. Plus, I have the original on my computer. You all
will be my witnesses in court, wont you? Clara Bow said looking
from one face to the next. She was answered with slowly nodding
heads.

I was late getting here because I took the book to my professor

oh, hes another witness for sure. Anyway, he could not believe it
when I showed him. But, Clara Bow said with a laugh, he showed
me her end of the year book project that she turned in; it was a mess.

Red ink was all over the pages. He said she really deserved a fifty
and below, but because she completed the course, he gave her a
sixty-nineand he was being generous.

Im curious, how did she get it printed so fast? I thought it took

several months to get a book printed, Tamron asked.

She probably used what they call a vanity press. Today there are
so many options to get a book printed that its not even funny. They
can be expensive, and you have to print a certain number of books. I
heard that most times you get stuck with a lot of those books laying
on your living room floor, Hermoth said.

Have you spoken with Marla at all? Nikki asked.

I tried calling her all morning, but I kept getting her voice mail.
She probably recognized my number and refused to answer, Clara
Bow said. A smile crossed her lips. Can one of you please lend me
your phone?

You can use mine, Nikki said.

If you ladies will excuse me, Tamron said, I have customers to
tend to. Let me know how everything turns out.
Just as Clara Bow suspected, Marla picked up on the first ring.
Hello, Marla. This is Clara Bow. Please dont hang up. Ive been
trying to reach you all morning. Anyway, I did get the book you
dropped off. Now you know that is not your book. Thats my book.
You know what you did and when you did it. You stole my manuscript
the evening I had the class over. I could not find it after that . . . Yes, I
read the introduction that you rewrote . . . You did rewrite it because it
does not even fit the storyline! I can prove it is my book because in
the acknowledgements you left the names of two of my friends who
proofread the book and they do not even know you; they have never

met you. Im going to take you to court for this. Marla? Marla? She
hung up, Clara Bow said as she handed the phone back to Nikki.
Her friends remained quiet.

You know, Nikki said, I think you ought to just let it go.
Let it go! No, I cant just let it go, Clara Bow said. I put my heart
into that story! That book could sell in the millions. I would hate to
think shes spending my millions.
Her friends laughed.

Well, you dont want to act rashly, Hermoth said. Pull up the
printer; Lagoon is the name. Just as I thought. Look how expensive
they are. You have to print at least 500 books. Marla probably paid
them her last dollars to get 500 books printed. Her house is probably
covered with the 500 books that she has no idea how shes going to
sell. It says right here that customers are responsible for their own
promotional work. By the way, thats an ugly cover.

Let that be punishment enough for her, Nikki said. Im sure

shes feeling guilty as it is.

You know the Bible does talk of heaping coals of fire on

somebodys head. That means you do good to someone who does
you wrong. That will convict them more than you trying to get back at
them, Shirley said.

Mmm. I dont know about all that. You know how much work I
put into it, Clara Bow said.

Youre a Christian now, Clara Bow. Do it for Jesus, Hermoth

said handing her her phone. Ask yourself, What would Jesus do?

Okay, Clara Bow said reluctantly taking Hermoths phone. She

dialed Marlas number.

Marla, please do not hang up. Im sorry for speaking to you so

harshly. I wish you all the best in your writing endeavors . . . Yes,
Marla. Thanks for recognizing me in the acknowledgements. Good
bye, Marla. Have a great day.

Now, dont you feel better? Hermoth said.

Clara Bow shrugged.

Dont worry about a thing. God will open up many doors for you
because you did the right thing, Nikki said.
Wanting to change the subject, Clara Bow said, I believe we
have enough time to find out what happened to your character,
Shirley.

Chapter 30
Rhettas night is filled with terror as she tries to anticipate her
stalkers next move, Shirley said. She tried calling her fiance again,
but ended up leaving another message.

Stanley, Im trapped in the building. Someones stalking me. I

know were at odds with each other, but this is no hoax. Ive been
locked up in my office for the past three hours. Its now 8.54. I beg
you, please come by with the police. They came before but the
stalker posed as the security guard and told them I had already left.
My car is still parked in the parking lot. Oh, no! I hear footsteps.
Rhettas hand trembled as she clicked the off button. She barely
breathed as she heard the footsteps getting closer. The light was still
out in the hallway.
Think, Rhetta. Think. Kicking her shoes off, she picked up her
desk lamp and hid behind the door, poised with lamp held above her
head.

Rhetta, Im coming in, the raspy voice said.

She heard jiggling of the lock followed by a click. Her eyes
widened as the door slowly swung open. The intruder stepped just
inside the door. Rhetta, Im inside, he said. Using all her might,
Rhetta came down as forcibly as she could with the butt of the lamp
on his head as he took a single step into the room. The lamp grazed
the side of his head and slammed down on his shoulder.

Aagh! the intruder said as he fell to the floor.

Rhetta seized that opportunity to run through the opened door
and slamming the door shut behind her, she ran as fast as she could

down the familiar hallway. A few of the offices that still had their lights
on helped light the hallway.
The elevator; I must get to the elevator!
As she turned left, she glanced quickly over her shoulder to see
the stalker coming down the hallway.

Oh, no! she uttered as she jumped into an open elevator. She
pushed the close door button. Nothing. Just as I thought; he jammed
the door. Rhetta made a mad dash for the stairs thinking as she
descended. At the third floor, she opened the door and made it slam
shut to throw her stalker off. She continued her flight down to the
second floor then to the first floor.

Rhetta! She shuddered as her name echoed down the stairway.

Stepping through the door onto the first floor, Rhetta dashed
through the dark lobby past the receptionists desk and to the front
door. She pushed on the bar across the glass front door.

Oh, no! It was locked.

Looking through the door, Rhetta saw two police cars with
flashing lights and what looked like her fiances car driving across the
parking lot. Their headlights cast their beams over the front door.
Rhetta waved frantically. She heard hurried footsteps slowing down
and the raspy voice call her name. Rhetta hurried behind the
receptionists desk and crawled underneath pulling the swivel chair
up close to her. The lights from the police cars flooded the lobby
area.

Rhetta, you should not have done that.

Rhetta listened. She heard car doors slamming and within
seconds she heard banging on the door and voices shouting out her
name. Apparently the police had seen her waving through the glass

door. She was afraid to move. Peering through the arms of the chair,
she noticed the stalker hurrying off into the semi-darkness. She
remained quiet, unsure of what to do. She jumped as shattered glass
broke the silence.

Rhetta! Rhetta! Its the police. Shout if you can hear us.
Rhetta pushed the swivel chair out of the way and rushed
towards the officers who had already climbed through the door. They
helped her through the broken glass door.

Rhetta!
Stanley! Rhetta flew into her fiances arms.

Shirley closed up her manuscript.

What are you doing? they asked. We want to know what

happened to Rhetta an d her fiance. And we want to know who the
stalker is.

That you will have to find out for yourself as I will be emailing
you the completed manuscript to do a final proofreading for me
before I submit it, Shirley said. By the way, Ive decided to title
it, Nightmare in Office 404. Is that alright?

If one waits for the right time to come before writing, the right time
never comes.
James Russell Lowell

Chapter 31
Doug and the children are still talking about the great time they
had when you and your father came over for dinner on Saturday,
Shirley said to Hermoth.

He enjoyed himself tremendously. I enjoyed myself as well,

Hermoth said.

Hermoths father is a character, Shirley said to Nikki and Clara

Bow. He had us laughing the entire time they were there. You could
not tell hes suffering from Alzheimers.

That was one of his sane days, Hermoth said. Thats one thing
Ill always remember him for. He has always been a jovial person. Im
having second thoughts about putting him in the senior community
center at the Covenant Place across town, but I have no other option.
Im going to miss having him around. Thats one reason Im seriously
looking into starting this publishing company and quitting my job so I
can keep him at home.

Well, at least youll be able to visit him whenever you want to,
Shirley said. When was the last time you heard from your sister?

Last week. Shes been calling me more often since Papa came
to live with me. One good thing thats come out of his having
Alzheimers is its drawing us closer together as a family. I believe she
misses him, Hermoth said. After a brief pause, Hermoth added, Its
like hes dying a slow death. I guess were kind of preparing for it; but

can one ever prepare for death?

Its one of those inevitabilities in life that you know is coming.

You try to prepare for it, but when it comes, it still shocks you, Nikki
said.

I thank God the blood of Jesus took care of death. O death

where is thy sting? Hermoth said. Paul tells us in his letter of
comfort to the Thessalonians, But I would not have you to be
ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow
not, even as others which have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus
died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God
bring with him.

Amen, Nikki and Shirley said in unison.

Clara Bow, when the Bible speaks of sleep it is referring to
death, Shirley explained.

I thank God that Papa is saved, so I look forward to meeting him

in Heaven when the Lord does take him, Hermoth said.

Speaking of death, how has Vashti been faring since the death
of your character, Dr. Justin Middlebrooks? Clara Bow asked.

She was shaken up when she heard of his death, especially

since shes feeling guilty knowing that she had married him for the
wrong reason. She was beginning to grow fond of him. Anyway,
Pierre is hounding her for money to pay off the murderer whos
hounding him.

Pierre, you got yourself into this mess. You went behind my
back and tried to have Justin murdered. How could you break my
trust like that? Vashti said.

That was all a part of the plan, wasnt it? We had to get rid of
him so you could have access to all the insurance money. Thats
taken care of. Now were faced with a more important issue, Pierre
said. The hitman is hounding me for money; he claims he killed
Justin. Hes threatening to bring me before the judge if I dont pay
him something. Hell tell the judge I planned the whole thing with the
promise to pay him to carry out the murder as well as to get him out
of jail.

You got yourself into that mess. I told you Justin was on his
death bed and that he was on all kinds of medications and that he
would die soon enough. Now Im caught in the middle, Vashti said.

Look, Vashti, my career as a lawyer is on the line. If news gets

out that I tried to bribe someone already in jail to murder Dr.
Middlebrooks, Ill end up in jail myself, then what kind of future will we
have? Pierre asked.

We? Vashti said. I was willing to marry you before I knew you
would orchestrate such a treacherous thing just to have some dollars
in your pocket. Now I dont know if youre worth marrying.

Dont you act all holy now. You were all for marrying
Middlebrooks after his wife died. And remember you were his
mistress while his wife was still alive. You dont want me to bring that
up again, do you? This time I may just say that you may have had
something to do with Middlebrooks death, Pierre said.

You wouldnt!
Why wouldnt I?
Thats blackmail!
You can call it what you like, Pierre said. All I need from you is
$50,000; thats like asking for a dime compared to the one million

dollars you received from his life insurance policy.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
Since were engaged to be married the money will be mine as
well, Pierre thought. I think we should have a courthouse marriage to
expedite things. I wonder if Middlebrooks partner found the youth
formula yet. If I could somehow prove that he was in on this scam
with Middlebrooks and threaten him with a lump sum payment in
exchange for my silence . . . .
I think Ill call this wedding off before I get further entangled in this
sticky web. Pierre is getting so money hungry I smell trouble up
ahead. Ill just change my identity: color my hair, plastic surgery, new
wardrobe, move to Paris. I have the money to do all that now, Vashti
thought.
Ring! Ring!
An incoming phone call interrupted their thoughts. They looked at
each other.

Im waiting to hear from my agent, Hermoth said breaking into

her reading.

Chapter 32
Theres an interesting piece of mail on the table for you, Doug
said to Shirley when she returned home after the meeting with her
friends.
Shirley tore the envelope open after she saw the return address.
Oh, my goodness! Its from Bethesda Publishers! They will be
publishing my book. I cant believe it.

This calls for a celebration, Doug said giving her a tight hug.
Where would you like to go?

Ill let you choose. You and the children have been very patient
with me while I worked on Nightmare in Office 404, Shirley said.
You even gave me the title. I have to call Nikki and the others now! I
cant wait until Tuesday, Shirley said picking up her cell phone.
Shirley and her friends were so excited as they chatted.

Congratulations! Nikki said. Im so happy for you.

I knew you could do it, Clara Bow said.
Amen and amen again! Hermoth said. All that hard work has
paid off.

It was worth it all. You ladies will be the first to get a signed
copy, Shirley told her friends.

*****
Hermoth pulled up in her driveway. She leaned her head back
against the car seat. It had been a rough day on the job. I wonder
what surprise Papa has for me this evening, she thought as she

closed her eyes to unwind for a few minutes.

Lord, You know I would much rather keep him with me, but I do
not know what to expect from one day to the next. He seems to be
deteriorating faster than I anticipated. I have three weeks of vacation
time saved up. I think I am going to put in for it and spend it with him
before taking him to the Covenant Place. Those three weeks will
allow me time to observe him more closely and to begin work on my
next book,The Sun Sets Slowly: Living With a Relative Who Has
Alzheimers.
Hermoth opened her eyes at the sound of the slamming of the
front door. It was her father. He walked across the lawn oblivious to
her parked car. Hermoth observed him as he crossed the road then
walked across the neighbors lawn. He rang the neighbors door bell,
waved at her when she answered the door, then retraced his steps
and went back into the house.
What in the world is he doing? Hermoth thought as she opened
her car door. Before she could get out the car, he repeated the same
actions.
Interesting, Hermoth thought as she rang her neighbors doorbell.
Hi, Mrs. Spencer. Has my father been bothering you again? I just
came in from work and was sitting in my car when I saw him walk
over and ring your doorbell twice.

Oh, no, he hasnt been bothering us at all. He did it earlier this

morning and then just now. I thought at first that maybe something
was wrong so I checked on him, but all seemed well. But, no, he
hasnt been a bother at all.

I apologize for him disturbing you

No need to apologize. Im just glad hes safe, Mrs. Spencer

said.
Hermoth said goodbye. She picked up her mail from her mailbox
before entering the house. After locking the door, she turned around
to see her father with his cap on his head and his jacket on.
Whew! I made it home just in time, she thought as she greeted
her father. Papa, youre all dressed up. Do you have a date? She
took her father by the arm and led him into the kitchen where she
could keep an eye on him.

I just spoke with Mrs. Spencer. Seems youve had a busy day
visiting, Hermoth said.
Her father allowed her to lead him to the chair where he sat
staring at her as she prepared the evening meal.

Who are you? he eventually asked. Youre in the wrong house.

Thats okay. You dont have a place. You can stand there. He smiled
as though waiting for a response.
Hermoth tried to carry on a decent conversation with her father.
While the food simmered, she joined him at the table where she
flipped through the pieces of mail. One envelope immediately stood
out to her. She quickly tore it open and read it aloud:
Hermoth Reeding,
Thank you for sending me your updated manuscript. I sent it to
another publisherCross Publishing Company. They are ready to
begin the print work on your book. Congratulations!
Please send me your fully revised copy as you mentioned in your
last correspondence. Looking forward to completing this project with
you.
Shelly

P.S. I am interested in your next book, The Sun Sets Slowly:

Living With a Relative Who Has Alzheimers.

Did you hear that, Papa? Cross Publishing will be publishing my

book. Hermoth gave her father a hug.

Chapter 33
The four sister authors met on Saturday for a late lunch where
they celebrated Shirleys and Hermoths success and discussed
upcoming projects.

Im serious about writing a novel based on the Christmas Day

shooting, Clara Bow said. Do you think Doug would be willing to fill
me in on the details? she asked Shirley.

Hed count it an honor, Shirley replied.

I was glancing through the book review section this past week,
Nikki said. Your friend, Marla, her book has some bad reviews.

Oh, really, Clara Bow said.

Both

reviews

cited

bad

grammar,

misspellings,

and

inconsistencies. It was terrible, Nikki said. I dont think its going to

do well at all.
Clara Bow smiled. I know I shouldnt smile, but I gave her a call
on Thursday and she did not want to talk. Now I know why. I called
her to encourage her and to let her know I had no hard feelings
towards her. I asked her how her book was selling and she evaded
that question.

Vengeance is mine; I will repay, God says, and when He

repays, He repays good, Shirley said. I can picture Marla sitting in
the middle of her bedroom floor with a puzzled look on her face
surrounded by books she has no idea how shes going to get sold.
The sisters giggled.

Tuesday morning found them at their regular meeting place at the

Java Bistro Cafe.

What are you so happy about? Hermoth asked Clara Bow.

This. Clara Bow took an envelope out of her laptop case and
after unfolding it she laid it on the table before her friends. Nikki read:
Clara Bow Wilson,
Congratulations! Welcome to the Time Magazine staff. Enclosed
you will find a one year contract for freelance writing with our
organization. If you accept the terms and conditions of this contract,
please sign, date, and return it to us.
Thank you,
Time Magazine
Clara Bow flashed the four-page contract before her friends. This
came in yesterday. Ive already read the contract, and now . . . drum
roll please . . . hold on to your hats, ladies . . . while I, Clara Bow
Wilson, sign the contract before my three faithful witnesses: Shirley
Kidd, Hermoth Reeding, and Nikki Rodriguez.

Four faithful witnesses, Tamron said as she walked up with a

small pitcher of milk and a fresh pot of coffee. Whats the occasion?
Tamron set the coffee pot on the table as Clara Bow shared with
her the reason for the celebration.

Congratulations! Tamron said.

And, Clara Bow added, Shirley and Hermoth will both be
getting their books published.

Triple congratulations! This calls for an extra serving of apple

turn-overs on me, Tamron said. Turning to Nikki, Tamron asked,
Hows your book coming along?

I think I got it this time. Do you have time to listen to the first
chapter. Its the first draft so it might not read too smoothly.

Aw, dont worry about that. Let me pull up a chair and you get to
reading, Tamron said.
Nikki cleared her throat and began reading:
It was miraculous how those four friends met and how their
relationship blossomed over the years. One interest strengthened the
sisterhood bond among them as they laughed with and at each other,
cried with and for each other, offered encouragement in the midst of
correcting each other, and walked with each other through the
various vicissitudes of life. Nothing held them together stronger than
the writers pen.
Nikki paused and looked up at her friends and each of them were
trying to fight back tears of joy.
Meet Hannah Rexol, Sayra Knight, Carie Wilcox, and Nadine
Rowland. After taking a sneak peek into their lives, you will agree that
a four-fold cord is not easily brokenif it can ever be broken at all.
As Nikki laid her first sheet down, her friends erupted in applause.

You got me hooked, keep reading, Tamron said. Im curious,

whats the title?

The Writers Life, Nikki said with a smile.

The End.

If you do not know the Lord Jesus Christ as your Savior, please
read the following:

1. Accept the fact that you are a sinner, and that you have
broken God's law. The Bible says in Ecclesiastes 7:20: "For there is
not a just man upon earth that doeth good, and sinneth not." Romans
3:23 reads: "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God."
2. Accept the fact that there is a penalty for sin. The Bible
states in Romans 6:23: "For the wages of sin is death"
3. Accept the fact that you are on the road to hell. Jesus
Christ said in Matthew 10:28: "And fear not them which kill the body,
but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to
destroy both soul and body in hell." The Bible says in Revelation
21:8: "But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and
murderers, and whoremongers and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all
liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and
brimstone: which is the second death."
4. Accept the fact that you cannot do anything to save
yourself! The Bible states in Ephesians 2: 8, 9: "For by grace are ye
saved through faith: and that not of yourselves: it is a gift of God. Not
of works, lest any man should boast."
5. Accept the fact that God loves you more than you love
yourself, and that He wants to save you from hell. Jesus Christ said in
John 3:16, "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but
have everlasting life.
6. With these facts in mind, please repent of your sins,
believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and pray and ask Him to come into

your heart and save you this very moment. The Bible states in the
book of Romans 10:9, 13: "That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth
the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised
Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." "For whosoever shall call
upon the name of the Lord shall be saved."
Dear friend, if you are willing to believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ for salvation, please pray with me this simple prayer: Heavenly
Father, I realize that I am a sinner and that I have done some bad
things in my life. For Jesus Christ sake, please forgive me of my sins.
I now believe with all of my heart that Jesus Christ died for me, was
buried, and rose again. Lord Jesus, please come into my heart and
save my soul and change my life today. Amen.
If you believed in your heart that Jesus Christ died on the
cross, was buried, and rose again, congratulations on doing the most
important thing in life and that is accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord
and Saviour! For more information to help you grow in your newfound
faith in Christ, go to GospelLightSociety.com and read "What To Do
After You Enter Through the Door". Jesus Christ said in John 10:9, "I
am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall
go in and out, and find pasture."

TO BE CONTINUED...