November 28, 2004


  • Crossing the Line


    I crossed the NaNoWriMo finish line to the roar of ... well there was no roar.  It was a little after five a.m. when I clicked on the icon to check my word count and saw that it had reached 50, 690.  So I stopped.  I went immediately to the NaNo site and had my word count validated.  I lifted all four of the WINNER icons, printed out the certificate, and that as they say is that.


    My novel isn't finished.  I figured out last night that there is a major plot problem that is going to require some immediate rewriting before I can start tying up the loose ends.  But I completed the challenge I set of 50,000 words in thirty days. 


    Wanna see a snippet?  This will give you an idea of just how ROUGH a rough draft can be. I think the scene is pretty self-explanatory even though it comes from the smack-dab middle of the book.  Katherine is a University Professor - Nino is a student in her class, he's a couple years older than she is and returning to school for required degree credits because he wants a career change. 


     


     


    The only problem with having the students take over discussion was that it gave Katherine opportunity to notice her tired aching feet.  A wiser woman might have said “no”, but wisdom didn’t often play a part in decisions that had anything to do with Cheryl.  So when her sister called and said, “Pleeeeeeeeeeease, you know you have at least an hour you can give to help me look at this furniture.  I want it to be right and you have a much better eye than I do for what will look good.”  Katherine agreed to go shopping. 


     


    Only it wasn’t just an hour.  It was never just an hour.  They saw first one thing and then another, visited three stores, and talked to a clerk about special ordering fabrics online.  The kind of day that is better spent in sneakers than high heels.  But Katherine hadn’t bothered to change her clothes so she was stuck with her choice.  By the time that Cheryl dropped her at the campus, she had missed her chance to even stop by her office before class started. 


     


    Now her feet hurt, she was tired, and it was difficult to pay strict attention to the material at hand.  She backed up to the desk and slid onto it, crossing her legs at the knee with her feet hanging well above the floor.  She slipped her heel out of one shoe and allowed it to dangle from her toe.  


     


    She answered a question and then allowed the discussion to continue it’s swirl around her head.  This was the perfect sized class as well, 23 students.  Small enough for each to have his or her voice heard, but large enough to take off pressure to speak at length.  Katherine was surprised by one girl who had started off the semester seeming very quiet.  But as the weeks went by she revealed that quiet hid a strength of wit and confidence that enabled her to stand her ground when some of the others went in a direction she didn’t support. 


     


    Glancing around at their faces, Katherine noticed one student who didn’t have much to say.  Nino, like her, didn’t appear to be following the discussion at all.  In fact, he was looking at her with an odd expression of appraisal. 


     


    At the next pause, Katherine addressed him, “Mr. Martin, did you have anything to add to the discussion of Kierkegaard’s statement that man must either choose to be religious or fall into despair?”


     


    He smiled slowly before answering, “Well, Dr. James, I think that such a statement must have been a bombshell in the ears of academics who reached their zenith in Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason.  They would have heard it as a repudiation of everything achieved by the enlightenment.  But I think he was onto something as has been born out by where the movement has gone since then.  Science alone is mere fact. We need more than facts to base our lives on.”


     


    She nodded, and even as another student broke in to argue for the supremacy of scientific thought as the foundation of modern life she didn’t break eye contact with Nino until his smile broadened almost imperceptibly and she realized she was staring.  She broke the contact and applied herself to monitoring and facilitating the group without looking back at him.  But the damage was done.  She didn’t have to look at him to feel his eyes upon her. 


     


    After the class was dismissed she gathered her things into the leather bag she carried and exited the classroom.  Nino was waiting with one foot propped against the wall.  She stopped.


     


    “Did you have a question?  I have office hours and you certainly know how to reach me via email.”


     


    “No, I have no questions.  I’m going to walk you to your car.”


     


    “Oh, really that won’t be necessary.”


     


    “Humor me.  It’s dark and I’ll feel better if I know that you are safely in your car.”


     


    “Okay, then, Nino.  Thank you.”


     


    He held the door for her and they walked in silence.  Katherine tried to think of something to say, but the thing that popped into her mind was “I’m sorry about your wife.” And she didn’t want to bring that up.  But the thought of his broader life did lead to a question she felt safer asking. 


     


    “My sister tells me that you’re pretty successful.  Martin homes have a great reputation.  And I’m curious.  What are you doing taking an Existentialism class?”


     


    “It’s not so difficult.  I’ve been rethinking my life.  Some … things … have happened that make me wonder whether I’m giving back what I owe to the world.  And I’ve always been someone that other people turn to for a listening ear and a shoulder.  I decided to come back to school for my MSW.”


     


    “You don’t have to have my class for that degree.”


     


    “No, that’s true.  But I saw it in the course catalog and the description made it sound like something I need to have for myself.”


     


    Katherine didn’t know what to say to that, so she lapsed into an easy silence as they walked.  The faculty parking lot wasn’t far and it didn’t dawn on her until she looked up and saw the empty space that tonight, she had no car. 


     


    “Oh, God, I’ve screwed up.” 


     


    “What’s wrong?”


     


    “Well, do you see space number 23?”


     


    “Yes.”


     


    “And do you see the car that’s in it?”


     


    “There is no car in it.”


     


    :”That’s how I’ve screwed up.  My sister dropped me off today after we went shopping and I forgot that I would need a ride home.”  She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone.  “Call Cheryl’s Home.”


     


    The phone rang once on the other end and Cheryl’s cheery voice answered, “This is Cheryl.  Dr. Tom and I have decided to take the phone off the hook and have an evening just to ourselves.  So unless you’re trying to sell me something, leave a message.  If you are trying to sell me something, don’t.  I’m broke, I’m not a good candidate for your services, and I already gave at the office.”


     


    “Oh, Crap.  She and Dr. Tom have taken the phone off the hook.”


     


    “Dr. Tom?”


     


    “Her husband, we all call him Dr. Tom.”


     


    “Is he a doctor?”


     


    Katherine knew but it was too late to back out.  “Yes, Dr. Tom Elliot.” 


     


    She watched as comprehension dawned in his face.  “Yes, I know Dr. Tom very well.”


    “I’m sorry, Nino.  I didn’t want to bring up a sad memory.”


     


    He took a deep breath.  “Well, it’s kind of hard not to.  The memories are everywhere.”  He shook his head as if to dislodge them.  “I take it that you know then.”


     


    “Cheryl told me.”


     


    He nodded.  “Thank you for trying to be kind.  It’s okay to mention her.  I’ve gotten past the point where I break down and cry in front of strangers.  In fact, it would feel good sometimes to just say her name out loud without everyone in the room getting that look of need to escape.”


     


    “What was her name?”


     


    “Gabriela.”  He breathed it out.  “But she was my Ofelia.  Her family all called her Gabby, but it just didn’t fit.  I wish my choice hadn’t been so prophetic”  He paused, then looked down at Katherine. “Thank you for asking.”


     


    She nodded.


     


    “Okay, then.  Let’s get you home.”


     


    “Oh, I can call a cab.  It’s okay.”  She raised her hand to indicate that she still held the cell phone.


     


    “Dr. James, unless you think I’m some kind of wild rapist out to do you harm, I’d rather take you home.  It’s what a man does when a woman is stranded.  And if that’s an offensive sexist thing to say, I’m not apologizing.”


     


    “Well, if you’re not apologizing, I suppose there’s nothing for me to say but, ‘lay on MacDuff, And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!.’”


     


    Nino laughed.  “I think I like you, Dr. James.”  He turned toward the student lot then stopped in his tracks and eyed her outfit.  “I think we’re about to find out just how adventurous you are.”


     


    “Why is that Mr. Martin?”


     


    “Because you are wearing a lovely snug little skirt, and I am here on my chopper.”  He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  “You know, as in motorcycle.”


     


    Katherine thought about it for a minute.  She could insist on a taxi.  But then again there was something about the image of herself on the back of a bike.  She didn’t bat an eyelash.  “I know what a chopper is Mr. Martin.  Lead the way.”


     


    He didn’t speak again until they were standing beside the bike.  Katherine could feel her chin trying to drop but forcibly kept it in place my clenching her jaw.  Nino handed her his helmet and took her briefcase.  He opened the … do you call it a trunk on a motorcycle?  Katherine knew that the second she opened her mouth he was going to laugh at her.  So she watched him in silence as he stowed her bag.


     


    “This, my dear,” Nino began with a flourish, “is a chopper, with a 7 inch rake, extended fairing, a teardrop tank, a sissy, and a … a … an… ahem … p-pad seat.”


     


    “Nino, you’re blushing.”


     


    “No, Ma’am, I’m just thinking that this might not be the most comfortable for you.  The other kind of seat, King/Queen, that’s the one with the raised seat for a passenger on back.  But this one is more designed for a man who doesn’t expect a lot of company.”


     


    “It seems fine to me.”


     


    “Okay, have you ridden on a bike before?”


     


    “No.”


     


    “It’s not hard, but there are rules for passengers.  Number one, hold on, there’s a strap on the seat or you can hang on to me.  Number two, don’t lean.  Leaning will make us turn and well, just don’t do it, okay?  Put your foot here, and keep away from the tailpipe, it will burn you if you touch it.  In fact, keep your feet right on these pegs.  But the most important thing … have fun.”  He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it across her shoulders.  “That silk blouse isn’t going to be much protection for you, you’ll need this.”


     


    He swung his leg over and settled on the seat.  “Ready?”


     


    Katherine swallowed hard.  Stepping gingerly up to the bike, she raised her foot to the peg and swung her leg across behind Nino.  Her skirt immediately rose to the top of her thighs.  She could hold the strap between her legs but she was going to be exposed to the night air and the gaze of anyone who glanced their direction.  She hesitated a moment then spread her thighs further and slid up against Nino’s back.  She slid her arms around his waist as he turned the key and closed her eyes as they drove into the night. 


     

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