Stories That Warm the Heart

FINALLY, STORIES OF THE HEART THAT MEN, AS WELL AS WOMEN, CAN LOVE.

Preview from “Delbert’s Rebirth”

Delbert mumbled his new mantra. “I am not a loser. I a

FINALLY, STORIES OF THE HEART THAT MEN, AS WELL AS WOMEN, CAN LOVE.

Preview from “Delbert’s Rebirth”

Delbert mumbled his new mantra. “I am not a loser. I am a winner.” After five repetitions, his mind returned to the inevitable. Then, the phone rang. Delbert’s heart sank. “I am not going to answer,” he thought nervously. But the inevitable took over, and he found his feet changing motion from a circle to a straight line. Out of the corner of his eye, Delbert could see the crystal salad bowl filled with every ingredient he could think of to make the perfect salad. He smelled the duck cooking in the oven. In the back of his mind, he knew he would be dining alone.

In the brief few seconds between the dining room table and the telephone that rested on a small desk in the corner of the kitchen, Delbert practiced what he would say. “Why don’t you come over for a little while.” “I have spent all day getting ready for our dinner.” “This doesn’t seem fair.”

When he reached the phone, Delbert took a deep breath. In spite of his desire to let it ring, the ultimate force of fate put his hand on the receiver.

(continued)

It was a long minute before Martha turned around to face Delbert. He wasn’t sure what to do. His mind flashed back to advice from his mother. “When in doubt, smile,” she would tell him when they went to public places and ran into her friends.

So, Delbert smiled. His smile was not perfect. His teeth were a little crooked, and he could never quite get that final little upturn of his lips to reveal all of his front teeth. However, the concept of the message was clear enough. “I am happy to meet you.” In reality the message was “I am not sure what else to do.”

Martha tried her best to smile, also. She seemed to suffer from the same doubt as Delbert. In fact, their motions seemed to mimic each other. Delbert put out his hand at the same moment that she put out hers. Delbert took a step closer precisely when she did. Perhaps they were, as the saying goes, two peas in a pod.

Preview from “The Puppet Master”

The old man remembered. His memories hurt, but his mind refused to quit. He gulped and the echo of the sound in his throat hurt his ears. But he continued to swallow. It was as if he kept torturing his soul. Maybe he did this on purpose. Maybe not. His memories scattered whenever a crowd appeared. The laughter of children seemed to cleanse his mind of hurt and despair. The high-pitched squeals of the innocent gave the old man a clean slate for a short time. But when the performance was over, his mind and throat returned to their old habits. His head bent forward trying to prevent anyone from seeing the sadness in his eyes.

The puppet master, as he was called, lived for the moments that his marionettes took his heart to another place. As he walked home, he experienced momentary flashes from the afternoon performance. These sparks warmed his otherwise cold soul. An observer might be confused by the old man’s frequent changes of expression. One moment his eyes sparkled as he envisioned the audience delighting in his puppetry magic. The next minute his eyes looked empty as if a magic spell had extracted every ounce of emotion from his body.

(continued)

The old man just wanted to go home. His routine was, well, his routine. He just wanted a glass of red wine, a little bread, some cheese, and, maybe a little of the roasted chicken he bought the day before. But his heart ordered him to look again. So, he turned his head and, this time, he turned his whole body to face the other walkway on the bridge. Still no one was on the bridge.

Once more he heard the plea. The puppet master’s heart ordered him to go across the road and investigate. Ironically, the puppet master’s mind kept demanding that the old man go home. In the end, there was no contest. The old man slowly walked across the narrow street and stepped up on the narrow sidewalk. His curiosity brought him to the bridge’s railing. His instinct was to look down; when he did, he saw a sight that he never had imagined he would find.

Preview from “William’s Redemption”

William looked down on the school steps and saw an old, crumbled, yellowing piece of paper. The way the paper looked reminded him of his father’s note he had discovered three years earlier. The association was too much. His mind could not turn off his father’s voice. “Don’t let your friend starve.” The voice repeated over and over. William’s whole body shuddered. Soon the voice was gone, and he continued down the steps.

(continued)

Then William heard a familiar voice cry out. “Who is that?” He thought to himself. Finally, he realized the voice belonged to Aaron. Why was Aaron’s voice heard above everyone else’s? He began to run toward the crowd. “Is Aaron in trouble?” He thought.

The crowd seemed to get exponentially louder as William approached. What from a distance had seemed like thirty or forty people now looked like over a hundred. He found it difficult to make out what the students were saying. He saw Johnny and Harold and Stevey and all the kids from their neighborhood- the kids with whom they would play ball- screaming. After struggling to make out the meaning, he finally could make sense of what Freddy Ironword was yelling. “Hit him, again.” Yelled Freddy.

(continued)

When he got to the second row, William was able to clearly see what was making the crowd yell. He admitted to Aaron later in the day that he was horrified. “There was my best friend- my only real friend- being pummeled by Carl Johnstone, the biggest bully in the eighth grade.”

By the time William got to the front of the crowd, Aaron had a thin stream of blood running down his nose. His eyes were filled with tears. Carl, the monster (as he liked to refer to himself), showed no remorse. The bully had shifted from Aaron’s face to William’s notebook that had religiously remained in Aaron’s grasp until that moment.

(continued)

William was ashamed. He felt ashamed that he did not come forward. He was ashamed that he had stood by and watched his friend become humiliated. The two had spent so many hours watching heroes in those old movies and now he had failed each and every one of them. John Wayne would have told him that he was a coward who couldn’t even stand up for his own prized possession, his notebook. From this moment on, William feared there would be no redemption for his failure.

m a winner.” After five repetitions, his mind returned to the inevitable. Then, the phone rang. Delbert’s heart sank. “I am not going to answer,” he thought nervously. But the inevitable took over, and he found his feet changing motion from a circle to a straight line. Out of the corner of his eye, Delbert could see the crystal salad bowl filled with every ingredient he could think of to make the perfect salad. He smelled the duck cooking in the oven. In the back of his mind, he knew he would be dining alone.

In the brief few seconds between the dining room table and the telephone that rested on a small desk in the corner of the kitchen, Delbert practiced what he would say. “Why don’t you come over for a little while.” “I have spent all day getting ready for our dinner.” “This doesn’t seem fair.”

When he reached the phone, Delbert took a deep breath. In spite of his desire to let it ring, the ultimate force of fate put his hand on the receiver.