37: Project : NaPodPoMo NaNoWriMo 22 Nov 2020



WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 22 NOV 2020

 

Todays Topic

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at timothy@createartpodcast.com

The Story So Far

22 Nov 2020  3392  daily count 36742 cumulative count

                Cheryl went back to writing in the diary and motioned Carl back into the living room. She kept up a good pace and drank more evening coffee. Occasionally she would get up and walk to the patio and look out the window to return to the kitchen table and make her entry. It was about midnight when she finished.

                “Okay I just got done with everything I can think to write. Do you want to crash out and wake up early in the morning and get this done,” asked Cheryl?

                “Naw, I won’t sleep until it is done. Might as well get this knocked out tonight so that way I can sleep,” replied Carl.

                “Okay I am bushed, I’ll just go to bed right now and I’ll be waiting for those cheese omelets. Do not stay up all night because I have that feeling that you plan to plow through this until the bitter end. We got a big day tomorrow and I need you to be awake, plus Myra is going to be up early I am sure, it can be weird sleeping in a house you don’t know,” said Cheryl. “If she gets up I’ll grab her so you can get this done.”

                “Sounds like a plan, I promise I’ll be crashed out on the couch in about an hour or so, I am used to writing for work quickly,” said Carl.

                Cheryl gave him a hug and went to the bedroom. In a short amount of time, Carl heard her light snoring after she had turned out the light. He kept the music from the TV going while he worked on his entry. Luckily, he had enough coffee in the pot for a few more cups and wrote the events of the day as thoroughly as he could. The details of every event that he could remember found its way onto the page and after he had finished three pages in an hour, he decided he was done for the evening. He began to wonder what Cheryl had written and wanted to take a peek at her recounting of the details to make sure he didn’t miss anything but decided that would only bring harm to everyone involved. If there were any missed details it was too late now as his eyes were very heavy. He closed the book and sighed heavily. Taking the book into the office he placed it in the top shelf of his desk and locked the shelf. He felt good about what he added as it was the best he could remember, and he would be able to return to it later if he wanted to clearly remember the day.

                He made his way back to the bathroom to change into his pajamas. Basically it was sweatpants and a t-shirt, he took the towel that Myra had used and placed it in the laundry basket as he changed. She had left the bathroom spotless and he was impressed. When he was nine years old he would have left a pool of water on the floor and toothpaste caked in the sink. Myra seemed to be an old soul to him, but then he remembered that girls mature faster than boys, or at least he was sure he read it somewhere. Once changed he went to the living room and made it to the couch. He got up and went to the kitchen to clean up the coffee maker and prep it for the morning. The digital clock read 2 in the morning and he let out a long slow yawn. He was pleased that he got everything done before ethe sun came up, that would have been a disaster for him in what they needed to accomplish for the day. He looked into the fridge and saw that he had enough eggs, butter and cheese for the omelets. After that he went to the couch and pulled the blankets on him. The music on the TV was still going and he thought about turning on the timer, but then remembered he promised Myra that he would let the music play all night. He could hear Cheryl softly snoring and he could hear Myra’s deep breathing. Everything was quiet in the house and the world as even the traffic from the nearby highway seemed to ebb to almost nothing. With everything in the apartment checked to his liking he laid back and let his eyes shut. Soon he was dreaming and snoring to himself.

                Car’s dreams were strange that early morning, he saw himself and Myra in a lawyers office dressed up in suit and she was in a purple dress talking in soft voices to a judge. The judge said something about adoption and Myra cheered and gave him a hug. His brother Nate was there shaking his hand and Cheryl was there as well crying softly to herself. There was a rapid succession of visions of them at a park, swimming in a lake, a birthday party where everyone was gathered, and Myra was blowing out her birthday candles. During all these mini dreams he could hear voices in the background mumbling incoherently. The dreams came faster and shorter each time until Carl woke up in a cold sweat. He was on the couch, the music was still playing, this time it was a Lee Morgan tune he could not read on the screen. Myra was curled up on the easy chair without a blanket, asleep, breathing deeply. Carl got up and went to the chair. The sun was still not up yet and the digital clock read 5:30. He picked up Myra carefully trying not to wake her and took her to her new bedroom. The blankets must have been kicked off in the night sometime and she probably slept walked to the chair and was trying not to wake anyone. He placed her gently onto the bed and put her blankets back on her. Kissed her forehead and turned to go.

                “Good night Papa,” Myra sleepily said.

                “Good night sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he said as a natural reflex that startled him a bit.

                He went back to the couch and got back under his blankets. The music that played was again by Grover Bechet he noticed.  Wanted to pull out his phone and research this person, but remembered that he was not allowed to do that, so he just closed his eyes again and tried to get back to sleep. It didn’t take too long to get back to sleep and when he awoke this time, it was still early, about 6:30 when he woke to Cheryl sitting on the easy chair.

                “Good morning early riser, did you sleep okay,” groggily asked Carl?

                “Had a weird dream, actually a weird set of dreams. I’m sure it is all related to everything that happened yesterday. Did you get any sleep,” asked Cheryl?

                “Yeah, Myra got up about an hour or so ago and was sitting where you are sitting, I put her back down to bed no problem. I finished at about two and I had a bunch of weird dreams as well. It’s the stress of yesterday, I am sure tonight we will be dead tired and will crash hard. You want me to make a pot of coffee, and is there a morning coffee that I should be making other than black,” asked Carl?

                “I think I need to switch to whatever keeps you going at your pace. Yeah some coffee would be nice, wait we don’t want to wake her up with the sound of the grinder,” said Cheryl.

                “Pre-ground stuff. I used a burr grinder so it will be fine. Its just a drip coffee maker so t is not going to live up to your standards, but for right now it wil be fine. Hold on let me get it started,” said Carl. He got up from the couch slowly and heard the usual joints popping. He got into the kitchen quietly and turned on the coffee maker, pulling two cups he placed them on the coffee table. They both sat in silence as the maker sputtered and gurgled as the coffee slowly dripped into the carafe, The familiar smell that they both devoted their lives too soon filled the room which warmed it up during the cool early morning. It took about ten minutes and the carafe was full. Carl went back to the kitchen and grabbed it and poured Cheryl’s cup first and then his own. He returned the carafe back to the coffee maker in the kitchen and came back to the couch and sat in front of his coffee, breathing in the aroma before he took his first sip.

                “Tomorrow I will do a French press in the morning. I like the ritual of French press coffee but today I just can’t do it,” said Carl.

                “Ooohhhh getting fancy for me now huh. Are you sure you want to take our relationship to that level, making French press coffee for someone is a lifelong commitment,” teased Cheryl?

                “Well you would have to spend the night again or at least be here early enough to drink it. Speaking of that, are you planning on staying the night again,” asked Carl?

                “Yeah I think so. Myra would really benefit to have a woman here, but I know the couch is not that comfortable to sleep on and it is not fair to you to have you on the couch every night while we figure this situation out,” said Cheryl.

                “Hey, I don’t mind too much right now. I can do this for as long as we need, plus I have had many nights sleeping on this couch, I got it because it was so comfortable. When I bought it, I told the salesperson that I needed something that I could crash out on and when I laid on this couch in the showroom, I almost feel asleep right there. I was actually having one of my episodes and well I felt bad, so I bought the floor model right then and there as soon as I came to,” confessed Carl.

                “That sounds scary, how often do you have these episodes,” asked Cheryl?

                “Well I have been keeping track of them for the past two years. I usually get them about once or twice a day. The frequency has increased slowly but the intensity has gone down,” said Carl.

                “What do you mean by intensity,” Cheryl asked as she sipped her coffee.

                “Well, I would zone out longer and deeper initially, that is what caused me to talk with the doc and essentially altered me to the tumor. Now it just takes a slight nudge or something to change in my field of vision and I can come out of it almost right away. Before I needed a good shake to get me out of the episode,” said Carl.

                “Does the doctor expect it to get worse as time goes on,” asked Cheryl?

                “It will probably go back to what it was until my brain just shuts down due to the pressure and the resources being drained by the tumor. By that time though, I will probably need to be in a hospice, and I will not know when death will be happening. I’ll just go into an episode and never come out,” said Carl.

                “That sounds really scary, how do you deal with that,” asked Cheryl?

                “Well I try not to think about it. One day it is going to happen and there really is not anything I can do about it. And before you ay anything, the chemo only slows the tumor, it does not stop the episodes from happening,” said Carl.

                “So, are you aware when an episode happens,” asked Cheryl?

                “Most times not, which I am happy about because I think I would freak out not being able to control what is happening around me. I have woken up during an episode and it feels like being paralyzed for a minute or two and I really hate that feeling,” said Carl.

                “I can see how that would be scary,” said Cheryl.

                “So, onto other things, Myra woke up last night and when I put her to bed she called me Papa,” said Carl.

                “That’s cute,” squealed Cheryl.

                “Well yeah, but I never told her to call me papa, and she has referred to her father as dad. I told Nate I would like to be called papa because it seems more intimate, but I never told her. That is definitely weird,” said Carl.

                “A little odd, but she may have heard it from TV or read it in a story. It is a good sign that she is comfortable with you.  With everything going on in her life that is a good sign that she feels comfortable enough with you to have a pet name. I would not worry about it too much,” said Cheryl.

                “I just find it off that she called me that. How long do you think we should let her sleep, I mean it is almost 7 in the morning,” asked Carl?

                “Let her sleep as long as she wants today,” replied Cheryl. “She has earned a good nights sleep.”

                Carl and Cheryl continued to drink their coffee in silence for some time. The sun began to rise and light up the living room. Cheryl stood up and opened the blinds on the patio door to let in more light.

                “I am going to grab a quick shower before breakfast and before I need to leave for work, are you okay listening for Myra,” asked Cheryl?

                “Sure, go ahead, grab a towel from the linen closet, the laundry basket is I closet in the bathroom. Sorry I don’t have better smelling shampoo, you are going to smell like me today,” Carl said.

                “Not a problem, besides, I like the way you smell when you come into the shop. Get those omelets ready, I am getting hungry,” said Cheryl.

                She went back to Carl’s bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes and then back to the bathroom where Carl heard her start the shower. He took her cup and placed it in the sink and then pulled out a frying pan and the ingredients for the omelets. He heard Myra slowly stirring and resisted the urge to check on her. Carl got deep into making the breakfast for all three of them and set the table as the stove top heated up. As he was flipping the omelets Myra sat at the kitchen table. She was still dressed in her pajamas and her yawn startled Carl.

                “Whoa he good morning, I didn’t hear you come into the kitchen. How are you feeling this morning,” asked Carl, surprised?

                “Good morning papa, I had a good night, how about you. I watched you sleeping on the couch for a little bit before you took me back to bed,” replied Myra.

                Carl was a bit taken aback by being called papa now that Myra seemed fully awake. He turned down the burner on the stove top as he turned around to face her.

                “I slept pretty good, did Cheryl and I wake you up,” asked Carl, still perplexed as to why Myra called him papa?

                “No, it was just time for me to get up. I am hungry, how much longer until we can eat breakfast,” asked Myra?               

                “Well Cheryl is in the shower so when she gets done, we can eat. It should not be much longer now. By the way, you called me papa when I put you back to bed and just now You do not have to call me that if you don’t want to. I like it, but I don’t want you to feel you have to call me that, whatever you are comfortable with,” said Carl

                “But I have always called you Papa since the adoption,” said Myra.

                “Since the what,” Carl asked? He could not believe what he just heard.

                “Papa, you remember a year ago when you adopted me. Did you forget again? Go grab the diary and remind yourself like you always do. Its in the front where you put my birth certificate and all the paperwork,” said Myra.

                “The diary is locked in my desk in the office,” said Carl.

                “I know, its always locked in your desk because you don’t want me to read it until I get older. We have gone through this so many times. Remember you put it in there in case you forget. Take the omelets off the heat before you go because I like mine runny, “said Myra.

                Carl moved the pan to the cool side of the stove top and headed to his office. Myra followed him. He unlocked the drawer and pulled out the diary. He noticed some paperwork sticking out of the diary between the cover and the first page. When he pulled out the paperwork and opened the paper and saw Myra’s birth certificate and the adoption paperwork. It was dated the previous year and looked to be real.

                “I don’t understand, we just met you yesterday, what is this, how did you get into the desk and why did you touch the diary,” asked Carl?

                “Papa you and Uncle Nate have the only keys to your desk. This is like the third time we had this conversation this past you. Remember you told me that you sometimes forget thing. We did it like this so I could help you remember,” said Myra.

                “Okay, lets put this back and eat some breakfast. I am not sure what is going on here,” said Carl. Carl put the paperwork back in the diary and put the diary back into his desk and locked it. They both went to the kitchen and Myra sat down at the table. Carl took the pan and placed the omelets on the plates.

                “Papa, this has happened before, you always get upset when it does. The doctor said it is normal and you will be okay. Just make sure to write it down when you talk to him in a few weeks,” said Myra.

                “How do you know I have a doctors appointment in a few weeks,” asked Carl?

                “Because you told me to remind you to put it on your calendar. Are you having another episode like you did yesterday at the park,” asked Myra?

                “I must be, I am sorry, this just isn’t making any sense to me,” replied Carl.

                Cheryl stepped out of the bathroom and sat down at the kitchen table next to Myra.

                “How did you sleep dear,” asked Cheryl?

                “Pretty good I was really tired. Papa looks like he didn’t sleep that well on the couch. He had another episode just now,” replied Myra.

                “Carl are you feeling alright,” asked Cheryl?

                “We need to talk in the other room,” said Carl.

                “Myra, you go ahead and eat and Carl and I will be on the patio okay,” asked Cheryl?

                “Sure, he forgot again about the adoption,” said Myra.

                “About the what,” asked Cheryl?

                “To the patio now Cheryl” said Carl.

                They left Myra to eat breakfast alone as Carl grabbed Cheryl’s elbow and led her onto the patio.

                “She thinks I adopted her a year ago, and she keeps calling me Papa like it is nothing,”said Carl in a low voice.

                “Wait she thinks you adopted her a yea ago, we just got to know her yesterday,” said Cheryl.

                “Ah there is one thing, one small thing, she said her birth certificate and the adoption papers are in the diary. They are, the adoption papers are dated a year ago. She knows that Nate is the only other person that has a key to the desk where it is all locked up. His just turned really weird,” said Carl.

                “Whoa do you think she went into your office and placed the paperwork there. She didn’t have anything with her except a book when her dad abandoned her,” replied Cheryl.

                “Well we didn’t strip search her or go through her book, but the signature is definitely mine on the adoption paperwork. We have either been had or we broke some part of the curse and history has been altered somehow,” said Carl. 

Reaching Out

To reach out to me, email timothy@createartpodcast.com I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.

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