Random Words 1-9-22
By: Carrie Keiser
James had just marticulated at the University of California in San Diego, majoring in science and the study of minerals. He had always been interested in science and had decided young to pursue a degree in this field. It had caused a dirempt in James’ family, his father and grandfather had been heart surgeons and were not thrilled with his desire to study earth science rather than medical science. The family suffered greatly because neither side had been willing to bend or understand the other’s point of view.
James felt that it would have gone over better had he told them he desired to become a doo-wop singer. He was musically talented and did plan to study music as his minor. Two degrees is always better than one, his mother had told him time and time again, of course she was hoping he’d choose a medical field as the second degree.
As he sat there contemplating his choices and realizing that he was young and life could throw him curve balls. Maybe he’d just say goodbye to university life one day and join the rodeo! He might enjoy the life of a rodeo clown, dodging bulls and jumping into padded barrels! A hearty laugh escaped his lips as he thought of himself taking on bulls, when he couldn’t even confront him dad and make him understand his love of earth science. The other students in the commons were giving him strange looks at his outburst, they thought he was a little off sitting there laughing for no apparent reason. They couldn’t hear the conversations in his head! James shook his head, smiled, gathered his stuff and headed for his dorm.
An unfinished story….
By: Colleen Holmquist
“Doo, doo wop, doo wop…” the strains came through as the first alarm—which I usually ignore. But not this morning. I didn’t even hit the snooze button. I knew if I did, I just might chicken out! No, I simply refused to let my fears overcome me. Today would be the day of my barrel ride over Horseshoe Falls at Niagara. I wasn’t dumb enough to do this just on a dare but I also wasn’t smart enough not to.
It was a ritual—rite of passage—in order for me to matriculate to the next phase of my life experience. It would be a dirempt way of leaving behind my hum drum, tedious, run-of-the-mill life. It could also be the end of my life but what the heck! I was bound and determined that no matter how much I had to suffer I would go through with it. I leapt out of bed, padded into the kitchen and made myself a hearty breakfast—which might also be a bad idea since I have always had a bit of motion sickness…
I took my vitamin and mineral supplement and headed out the door. I hopped on my bicycle and rode to the top of the falls. I was traveling quietly in the dark of night because I knew what I was attempting was illegal and didn’t want the authorities to stop me. I was already in trouble. I’d had to lie about the barrel I had specially constructed so it would hold me in an upright position. But I convinced the fasbender the barrel was just to catch water from the gutters off the roof. I had taken care to hide it well in the bushes near the river bank. I padded it well with Memory Foam cushions and I even supplied it with a barf bag—just in case.
I found the barrel, hid my bicycle, climbed in, pulled the lid closed and ensured it was sealed. And there I stayed. I hadn’t created a plan for getting into the water. I tried pushing it over but I couldn’t generate the force. I couldn’t sit down and think about anything because of the slim design of the barrel.
The man turned to fully face Lita and said, “I’m Rhys.” He made a slight bowing motion as he said his name.
“I like your name,” Lita responded, feeling like she needed to say something but not able to think of anything else.
“Thank you. It’s Welsh, means ‘ardor,’” Rhys said. “Or, if you like, ‘passion’ or ‘enthusiasm.’ I feel those last two words fall somewhat flat though.”
“Oh, I agree. Ardor definitely seems like a much more meaningful word,” Lita said. “In Latin, my name means ‘gladly.’ Not nearly as interesting as ardor.” She knew that he probably didn’t really care what her name meant and paused to collect her somewhat scattered thoughts so she might move past this rather unusual introduction. “Well Rhys. Were you really going to save me and then leave without even introducing yourself? Oh no,” a thought just occurred to her as she looked at him. “Did coming to the hospital with me make you miss a terribly important meeting or some such?”
“Actually, yes. Well, not precisely, but I am now quite late. I was supposed to be at the college 30 minutes ago to matriculate there, for my doctoral program,” Rhys said, turning to leave again. “I do hope you are able to leave the hospital soon. The doctor who examined you told me that you have a slight concussion, but seemed fine. It was nice to meet you LIta.’ And with that he strode out the door.
Lita stared at the door, still nonplussed at the events of the accident and Rhys’s manner. About one minute later, a nurse came in the door and looked around.
“Has he left then?” the nurse asked.
“It would seem so,” Lita replied.
“Well then, the doctor asked me to check your vitals and ask some questions when you woke. How are you feeling?”
“My head does feel rather like it was beaten by drumsticks or something, but other than that I feel alright. How long have I been here?”
“That seems consistent with your injury and your friend’s account of the accident,” the nurse said, nodding as she looked at Lita’s chart. “You came into the ER about twenty minutes ago. Can you tell me what day it is?”
“Of course, it’s Wednesday,” Lita said. Shoot, she thought. I definitely missed the train.
“Good, good. What’s your full name and what country are we in?” the nurse asked next. “We just want to be sure you haven’t suffered any memory loss.”
“Lita Rosalee Perez. The United States,” Lita said. She was starting to feel quite ansty, as she remembered just what she had been headed to do when the accident occurred. Hippogriffs, horse-feathers, Kiribati, she thought.
“Alright, your pupils aren’t over dilated, and your vitals seem good. I’ll just run my report by the doctor, and let you know if he thinks you’re good to go home,” the nurse said. She picked up her stethoscope and left the room.
Lita decided she felt just fine, other than her headache and decided to hurry up and get out of here before she missed the next train. If she remembered correctly, the next one left the station in about an hour. She pulled the IV out of her hand, wincing a bit as she did so. Looking around, she found her clothes in a plastic bag underneath her pack. She hurriedly put them on, slung her pack over shoulder and peeked around the corner of her hospital room door. She saw nobody coming towards her, so she strode out, and, seeing a sign for an elevator, she went towards it.
Just as she stepped into the elevator, she heard a voice yell,” Wait!” But she pushed the ground floor button and the doors slid closed. Interestingly, the elevator was playing doo-wop music. She hadn’t been on an elevator that played music in, well, never. Odd that, she thought.
Upon reaching the ground floor, Lita headed towards a revolving door she spotted at the end of the hall. Once outside, she pulled out her phone, thinking she should call a ride to the train station to make sure she got there on time, this time.
She put her phone back in her pocket after ordering her Uber and turned to look for somewhere to sit. She spotted a bench made out of a barrel, turned on its side with a seat placed into a groove cut in it. She thought, It’s cute, but out of place outside the hospital. It would have been more at home in a backyard garden.
She pulled out a pen and notepad and she started jotting down thoughts. These included: I wonder if there were any unusual minerals or bacteria on the horse-feathers Uncle Min found; Remind Mila to feed Pierogi (Pierogi was her cat.); Rhys was very reserved, must be kind though. He did save my life; I wonder what doctoral program he is attempting.
The Uber arrived and took Lita to the train station. She’d decided to take a flight to Fiji, but to do so, she needed to get to a city with a bigger airport. The train would get her there in about three hours. Plenty of time to rest and still do some planning. Her head still hurt quite a lot. Maybe she could find someone with a tylenol or ibuprofen on the train.
As she stepped out of the car, she was suddenly knocked down, AGAIN, as a teenaged boy attempted to dirempt her bag from her hand. She managed to hold on, but only just, as the boy made another vicious tug on her bag. The Uber driver seemed not to notice and yelled at her to close the door.
“Kinda busy here!” Lita called back from the ground. She pulled hard and managed to make the boy fall over on top of her whacking her head on the sidewalk again. Her grip on her pack slackened for a moment and the boy tried scrambling away with it. She swung her foot out just in time to trip him and bring him to the ground again. By now, the mostly empty sidewalk’s few occupants had finally noticed the commotion and began to move toward them. The boy looked up, noticed his advancing audience and decided to let go of the bag and beat a retreat.
Lita panted as she stood up a bit shakily. The blood rushed to her head so she bent down her hands on her legs, and the Uber driver chose that moment to yell out the door again, “Can you shut the door?”
Lita nudged the door closed, thinking she’d definitely not be leaving this driver anything more than a 1-star review. Sheesh! What a crazy day! It’s almost as if there are forces actively trying to prevent me from making any headway on my hunt for answers about the horse-feathers, she thought.
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