Final Segment of chapter entitled Uncle Charlie

I will post the second and the last segment of the chapter entitled Uncle Charlie from my novel The Vanishing Shed.  I want to thank the five of you who showed to comment on the first segment of that chapter.  My Mom's family was a large one.  Uncle Charlie shown above was the youngest, born in 1917.  Mom was second being born in 1913.  Of the many uncles and aunts I had, Uncle Charlie was my favorite.  My favorite aunt was Katie.  Okay, find below the last segment of my novel.  Remember to comment and you will be eligible for one of the two print copies.  Again thank you Hywela, Sonja, Danielle, Gail and Linore for commenting on the first segment.  Please comment again between now and next Saturday.  Then I will use a random number generator from the web to decide which two are the winners and then I will contact you for your address via my email.

“How’s college goin’, Buck?”

“Really tough subjects and hard-nosed professors, but that’s good.  It keeps me out of trouble,” Buddy answered.

“Kack told me about Mandy and Mitzy.  I saw Mandy when she was here, and everybody knows Mitzy.  Two really pretty girls.  Buck, I’m sorry things didn’t work out with them,” Uncle Charlie said, daubing the broom into the hot tar and spreading it near the top.

“Yeah, I was crazy about both of them,” Buddy said, positioning the tar bucket from his precarious perch.

“How about those Purdue college girls?  Surely there’s one of those you can cabbage onto.”

“I’m there to get a degree, not flirt with women, Uncle Charlie.”

“Are you acquainted with any women up there?”

“Well, yes.  I’ve been studying with the only three ladies in my physical chemistry class.  They’re really smart.”

“Are they pretty?”

“I know you. You want all the fine details of their looks.  Their names are Jenny, Gloria and Nina.  Let’s leave it at that.”

“Do you like one more than the other two?”  Uncle Charlie asked.

“I like them all.  If I mention one over the others, you’ll keep pumping me for info.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.  The leader of the group is Nina.  She’s the smartest and had the say on whether I could join their study group or not. I’d better go get a fresh bucket of tar.  This one’s cooled off.”

Buddy carefully stepped from the roof ladder to the ground ladder and made his way slowly down to the ground. His dad had a hot tar bucket ready near the corn crib.  Buddy swapped buckets with his dad, and headed back to the ladder with the fresh bucket.  He scaled the ladder, stepping slowly onto the roof ladder and Uncle Charlie sunk his broom into the fresh tar and began smearing.  His uncle changed positions of the ladders while Buddy fetched another bucket of tar.

“What does Nina look like?  Does she have meat on her bones, all in the right places?”

“You promised not to dig for information.”

“Come on, Buck.  You’re dyin’ to talk about her.”

“I’m really confused at this point after Mandy and Mitzy left, but I think I like Nina.  Well, I like the other two, Jenny and Gloria too,” Buddy said.  He carefully moved the tar bucket up a few rungs on the roof ladder.

“Sounds like Nina is the one you like most.  Is she built like a movie star?”

“She’s tall, slender, steel-framed glasses, short red hair and rarely ever smiles.”

“Ugh, what do you see in her?”

“I look at women differently than you do, Uncle Charlie.”

“True, but what’s important are your feelings and I can tell you really like her.  Let your feelings out, Buck.  Don’t hold them back for this woman.”

“I don’t think she likes me that well.”

“She let you study with them didn’t she?”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t happy about it,” Buddy said.

The time came for the dreaded work on the high end of the barn. The ladder leaned almost straight up to reach the roof and even then it came a few inches short of touching the edge of the roof.  Moving slowly and carefully, Buddy and his uncle managed to reach the dangerous spot.  With the last of the tar applied, Buddy carefully stepped from the roof ladder onto the ground ladder.  As he hooked the tar bucket to a ladder rung, the ground ladder suddenly tilted away from the barn.  Buddy struggled to make the ladder lean back toward the barn.  Spotting Buddy’s peril, his uncle thrust his foot out while hanging onto the roof ladder.  Charlie’s foot managed to snag the top rung of the ladder to keep it from falling away from the barn.  Buddy barely held on when the ladder jerked to come back to the barn. He looked behind him and wondered how smashed up he’d been, had Uncle Charlie not prevented his ladder continuing its outward tilt.  The hard ground and perhaps the closeness of the corn crib would have finished Buddy off.

“You saved me, Uncle Charlie,” Buddy said, his frightening breath coming in gasps.

“Be careful going down.  I’ll bring the tar bucket.  You just get yourself down.”

They did the other side of the roof without incident since the slope of the ground made it much easier.  They skipped lunch in order to finish without dropping into the following day for just a few hours of work.  Buddy’s mom had supper ready for them.  As Buddy and his uncle followed Buddy’s dad to the house, Uncle Charlie had another comment.

“That girl knows you’re the type guy who isn’t after her body so I’m betting she will come around.”

“I need to focus on my studies, but I hope you’re right,” Buddy said, trying to pick dried tar off his fingers.

“Buck, I really like workin’ with you.  I think Ham wants your basement made bigger so you and I may be wading in concrete after you dig it out.”

“That would be a hard job to finish up the summer with,” Buddy said.

“Yeah, we don’t want you to miss getting back to that girl,” he said, slapping Buddy on the shoulder, showing his toothless smile.

“Ahh, Uncle Charlie.”

Uncle Charlie chapter Vanishing Shed

I will be posting portions of my story The Vanishing Shed specifically all of chapter fifteen, Uncle Charlie. I will mail a print copy of my book to two lucky winners. Requirements are to show up to this blog and leave a comment any time before the next segment.  I will post once a week on Saturday until I finish the chapter.  I know two of you have read and reviewed this story on Amazon and I thank you for that.  It would be nice if the winners would review it but that is not a requirement.  If you decide to just make a statement that you won the copy in a contest and Amazon should accept it.  The original publisher has closed their doors and I have self-published it so it is available again.  I am giving away the original publisher copies I still have but the self-published version is identical but without the publisher logo.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - UNCLE CHARLIE

Buddy spent the summer working on the farm doing the chores his dad couldn’t handle. He worried how they would manage taking care of the farm when he returned to school. His mom could do the milking, feed the pigs and take care of other things. With Jeff’s occasional help they would be able to keep things going on the farm, just barely. Buddy put up the hay, a slow job since Buddy handled all the bales while his dad drove the tractor which pulled the wagon. Unfortunately, the corn wouldn’t be ready until after he returned to college.





Buddy’s dad said the barn roof needed a coat of tar. They stood in the barnyard looking up at the steep barn roof with its metal covering. The sweat poured despite the early morning hour. It dripped off Buddy’s forehead, making its way down to his eyes stinging them. He wiped the drops from his eyes and just above his upper lip.


“Good hot August day. Just right for tarring the barn roof,” Buddy said.


“Yeah. Jiggs will be here any minute,” his dad said, removing his hat, wiping sweat on his sleeve. He replaced his hat at his usual cocked angle.


His dad and mom called Uncle Charlie, Jiggs. Charlie, the youngest one in the large Beasley family, always kidded his mom because of him being younger. Charlie could lay concrete blocks better than anyone around. Buddy looked forward to working with his favorite uncle. His uncle used different names for the people in his life, a story behind each name. He called Buddy’s dad, “Ham,” his mom, “Kack,” and Buddy he always called, “Buck.”


Buddy saw him walking down the road toward the barn from the direction of the house. With his thumb and one finger, his Uncle removed the stub of a cigarette from his lips, flipped it onto the gravel road, tromping it without missing a step. His deep tan skin and bulging biceps came from years of work with heavy concrete blocks. His pleasant smile revealed empty spaces where two front upper and lower teeth used to be. Black wavy hair, prominent handsome nose completed his six-foot frame. He spotted Buddy.


“Buck, ready to get on that roof?” he said, his bass voice resounding.





“Yeah. Dad has the brooms ready and the tar is almost boiling,” Buddy answered.


“I’m mighty glad you’re working with me. I checked with Kack before I came just to make sure.”


“You don’t have a fifth of whiskey hidden on you do you? High barn roofs and liquor would be a bad combination,” Buddy said. Besides smoking, a drinking habit plagued Uncle Charlie.


“No, Buck. I know you’re always on my case to give up drinking. Don’t ever stop getting after me about it. I think you’re the only one who cares whether I give it up or not.”


Uncle Charlie hauled out the long, wooden ground ladder and placed it against the upper end of the barn where the ground sloped upward. The ladder reached the metal roof overhang without being at such a steep angle. Buddy dreaded when they reached the other end where the ground sloped down. The ground ladder would have to be at a dangerously steep angle in order to reach the roof.


Once Uncle Charlie had the ground ladder in place, he grabbed the roof ladder. Quickly climbing up to the roof, he used one strong arm to give a mighty thrust to hook the roof ladder over the cone of the barn roof. The big metal hook made a loud clank as it lapped over the top.





Buddy’s dad brought the bucket of steaming, bubbling hot tar. Uncle Charlie got one of the brushes. Buddy sat near the bottom of the roof ladder holding the bucket of hot tar, while Uncle Charlie, standing on the ladder higher up the roof, reached to soak the brush and spread the tar. They wasted no time getting started. While Buddy held the tar bucket, Uncle Charlie started smearing the tar. As always, he liked to talk.

News on the publishing front.

For some reason my Mary Magdalene cover disappeared from the last post.  I hope it appears in this short post.  I have one review from a dear author friend, Gail Pallotta. Thank you, Gail.  I do have some good news and it could be very good news forthcoming.  I submitted my science fiction novel query and first three chapters to Champagne Books, the publisher who accepted and published my first science fiction novel Higher Mission back in October 2013.  A couple of days later they asked for the entire manuscript expressing an interest in it.  We will see what happens.  Unless they have changed they only publish in digital form but at least it will be published if they are interested.  The recent submission is entitled Meeting the Challenge.  This is a very old story which I received numerous rejections on.  I wrote it almost twenty years ago.  I am still awaiting on another agent to answer about my Rescuing Clay story.

Mary Magdalene is published

My story Mary Magdalene is 10,000 words long and is now available both in print and Kindle format.  I found what I feel is the perfect image from istockphoto.com.  Here is the front cover.  I had to download it again above because the image disappeared from the original post.  I don't know why.

Lisa MacDonald of LDM Graphics formatted the image for uploading to the KDP for self-publishing.  It is formatted to a 5x8 size in trying for 100 pages but it fell short so there wasn't room for a title on the spine.  It numbers 93 pages double spaced.  It is available via Amazon and I will have to check but think it is at Smashwords too.

I am still undecided about the rescue novel which is entitled Rescuing Clay.

Mary Magdalene story

I have finished the fiction/nonfiction story about Mary Magdalene.  There have been lots of stories about this New Testament character but I have not read any of them.  The fictional part is mainly about her early life.  The nonfictional part is about her being present at the cross of Jesus and at His tomb to be the first to witness His resurrection.  I consulted several biblical references in the four Gospels and a website and a book entitled The Fourfold Gospel to place the sequence of happenings of Mary at the end of the books Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.
I will self-publish this via KDP and either come up with my own cover front and back or hire it done.
I have done no more on my Rescue novel at this time.

Rejection of Rescue Novel

I just received a rejection of my Rescue Novel from Boroughs Publishing Group.  They promised a reply in sixteen weeks.  When they went beyond that goal for a reply I emailed them reminding them of how long it had been since my submission.  A few or more days later they sent me the rejection email.  I have finally come to realize that, especially at my age, the only route to go for a novel submission is not to go to a publisher but do it the self-publishing route via KDP.  I did a lot of research on this novel and also got two beta readers to go over the novel.  I incorporated their suggestions into the final version of the novel.  Their suggestions were very good so the novel is now well polished.
I plan to self-publish via KDP hopefully after the first of the year assuming my health is better.  I will employ a cover artist, probably the same one who did my last novel, and when the formatting is complete I will take out an expensive ad in my RWR magazine, probably a full page ad.  Depending on the results of that this may be my swan song for writing other than the Mary Magdalene story I am presently working on.  The RWR magazine is Romance Writers Report a publication of RWA, Romance Writers of America which will reach over 10,000 readers, authors, editors and agents.

Self-Published and my accident

I am still seeking for a publisher for my rescue novel.  I've decided to name the novel Rescuing Clay.  I never can come up with clever titles that many  authors give their novels.  The rescue novel numbers 91,000 words.  If I can't rope a publisher I will self-publish and plan to take out an expensive ad in RWR magazine, a publication of RWA of which I am a member.  RWR stands for Romance Writers Report and RWA stands for Romance Writers of America.  RWR has a circulation of over 10,000 writers, romance readers, agents, editors and publishers.  This novel may be the last one I write for the reason I will list in the next paragraph.
On June 11 I was hit by a car while jogging.  The car was stopped at an intersection waiting for traffic to clear and didn't see me as I crossed the intersection in front of the car.  The driver pulled out, hit me and I went down and was dragged a short distance before the vehicle stopped.  I was very lucky to survive as the front right wheel was just inches from my head when it stopped.  I spent 13 days in the hospital from multiple cuts, bruises and scrapes all over my body.  My right hand was cut deeply down to the tendon between my little finger and ring finger on the top of my hand.  Cellulitis set in and infection.  I finally had surgery and now closing in on four months it is infection free and will heal by end of October.  My fingers are still swollen and my little finger is sore and I can't type or write very well. I certainly can't hit the "p" key while typing.  Therefore I can't pursue any writing.  No broken bones but ligaments in my shoulders are awry.  I have some non accident problems such as needing a pacemaker and kidney tumors, one large in my right kidney which must be removed and the small one in my left kidney is a low grade cancer.  I have a large hematoma  on my right leg near the groin which must be drained too.  So that is my story of non related writing.