My fucked Up Affair - a novel

Synopsis: my fucked up love affair

Joey is dying. No one knows, neither the local kids who come help out around the cabin in the mountains, nor the one sweet lover of over forty years. Ellie. Joey spends the last days sitting on the deck , reliving an amazing affair with her, and their travels with and away from each other. Their tale is full of loving and hating the other in equal measure. They found each other in Guatemala, Alaska, Russia, Spain, and all over the States, always ready to love, to fight and to leave once again. An impressive life and a love affair that almost killed one of them..

Excerpt: 

CHAPTER TWELVE

I fire up the truck. I’ve decided to drive over the mountain to spend the morning with Paula. Mike died a few years ago. She’s on her own, still in the place they built together so long ago. The kids? Maggie is near by; maybe I’ll look for her tomorrow? A visit per day? That sounds kinda nice to me. The boys left town, with Charlie in California and Mikey, well, Mike now, he lives in Europe last I heard. He’ll be back. It’s about that time. Every few years he comes back to say hello. He and I fought last time though, not a pretty argument. I’d like to talk to him, clear the air between us.

My truck is left over from the eighties, a white Toyota four by four pick-up. The body is rusted out but the engine is solid. It helps that I left the country so often and it got to rest up, waiting for me from its space at Paula’s place. As I get ready to leave for the day, I check on the water bowls for Fred and the cats. All looks good. I carry in a handful of kindling and set the fire for when I get home.
Might snow tonight. Each day is different. Remember that winter about four years ago? The snowstorm hit so hard and fast that we were all trapped for a week. Over three or four feet in one night. I’d been home. Had no idea. I woke, wanted to go outside to pee, and couldn’t. The door was jammed with snow. There I was, at seventy something, climbing out the kitchen window, slipping face first into the drifts. And getting deeper and deeper when I tried to get out and stand up, only to have Fred jump out and land on top of me. I laughed so hard that I peed myself! Anyone had seen me, I’d never had heard the end of it. Lucky I live alone, eh?

I’m about to get in the truck, when it occurs to me: what am I thinking? It’s too early to go visiting. Not that Paula will be sleeping, but it just feels too early. Seven maybe? Did I eat yet? I don’t think so. I had some coffee. That part I remember. So I turn off the engine. At least I know it works still! It’s been a week since I last drove anywhere. Well now. Food? Or a walk? Or both? Yeah, both.
I put the sausages on to cook slowly, and then whistle for my pets. Yep, all of them like to walk with me. The boy cat leads the way, up the path and across the ridge. It used to be Fred up front, but he’s at my pace these days. The girl cat comes along, but to be honest, I think she’d like me to carry her on my shoulders. Such a princess, eh?
It’s chilly but not bad. I look out west and see the beginning wisps of snow clouds. I can’t smell them yet. Did you know you could smell snow coming? It’s subtle, but a definite hint in the air, in the nostrils. Takes practice, that’s all, practice to slow down and notice.
I follow Kit-kit and we amble through the pinion and the junipers, past some cholla cactus. The grass shivers in silvery waves as the wind begins to pick up. I believe snow is truly coming this way. The golden sky lights up the mountains behind. Funny how I ended up on what I consider Paula’s mountains. The south side of the Ortiz, that’s where you’ll find my land. Forty acres of untouched ridge top. I look out west and northwest. Huge open mesas and valleys fill the landscape, until the Jemez Mountains block the horizon beyond. A flat mesa divides the land and drops off suddenly, leading into the pueblos at the Rio Grande. It’s a glorious place to live, and I am blessed to have my own little home within it. No wonder I kept coming back. How many years now? How many times did I leave?
Well, there was that first time I met Ellie. I left shortly afterwards. California that time. You see, I’ve lived here in spurts, short bursts of settling. Short meaning four or five years at a time. Build a home, settle in, try to love someone that isn’t Ellie, and then? Then I’d leave again. I’d cut my hair off and leave again.
Let’s see, where to? Well, all over the place. Europe mostly, Europe and the Americas. And then I’d come back again. Paula and family take me in. I start all over again. Bump into Ellie and, well, you get the idea. Off I go. Went. Now though, I stay. This is home. Ellie be damned.

Writing atlast!

The first of November and i wake to a coffee in bed, the laptop plugged in and a story flowing out. Not easily described, but the process is one of just letting the words come out. I have no idea where these characters are taking me, but Joey has a story to tell and outloud he says it. 

And for me?

Words put directly into the computer. That's different for me. I usually hand write and then transcribe. Now though, i'm fluent enough to put pens away but for the notebook in back pocket. I had talked to a few friends last night and they were all incredibly happy to hear i'm writing again. It's been many a year since new words came out in this format. It's an amazingly freeing experience for me. Joey. Ellie. David. New Mexico. It's all there. New friends and an old story of love lost and then re-found. I'll share it once the month is done and the novel completed.