Tag Archive | 31 Days of Writing

Chapter 5—Share

Oct5

Welcome to Chapter 5! Remember this is a totally freewritten, unedited rough draft, so comments, critiques, concerns are all welcome. If you’re just coming into this story at chapter 5, you can find the rest of the chapter by going to the Table of Contents and clicking the prompts.

Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Share

 

“So what’s up, girlfriend?” Pepper inquired when they walked out the door and headed the two blocks to Clairmont Comics and Such.

“You haven’t seen Hazel around today, have you?” Erin asked hopefully.

“I haven’t,” Pepper answered, “but that’s not unusual. She usually just pops into your place and then heads to the park or home. She doesn’t tend to stick around town. Is there some problem?”

“Well,” Erin hesitated, feeling a little silly, but still worried enough to keep going. “She doesn’t always show up, but she left this really strange message on the shop’s voicemail. “ Erin stepped aside as a mom pushing a double stroller rolled past them on the sidewalk.

“What do you mean by ‘strange,’” Pepper asked.

Erin stopped at the corner and waited for a couple of cars to pass before she stepped off the curb and continued. “She said she had uncovered something that would prove that the accident 20 years ago that killed Bernie and Bryan wasn’t really an accident and that she was scared.”

“Whaaat?” exclaimed Pepper. “Do you think that’s just some of her crazy ramblings? She can sometimes have conspiracy theories, you know. Remember when she was convinced that putting aluminum foil on her roof would keep the aliens from listening in to her conversations? With nobody, ever, because she never lets anyone into her house?”

“I know, I know,” Erin conceded. “But this time she sounded really scared. Her voice was different. She’s never shared any kind of information like this before.”

They stopped as they reached the entrance to Clairmont Comics. “Do you think we ought to look for her?” Erin asked. “I mean, I know it has only been a few hours. But it’s not really like her to not come into the village and to not answer her phone.”

Pepper pulled open the door. “Let’s just see what today turns up, OK, Salty?” Erin grinned at the endearment. “Maybe she had a doctors appointment. Or maybe her phone’s not working. Or maybe she slept through the ringing. There’s all kinds of scenarios that could be true.”

“OK, you’re probably right. Harry pretty much said the same thing. I’ll try not to worry. Thanks for letting me share my concern.”

Pepper waved goodbye and stepped into her realm while Erin headed back to Be My Bagel. The sound of a siren in the distance did nothing to ease her mind.

Chapter 4—Why

Oct5

Welcome to Chapter 4! Remember this is a very rough draft, so feel free to comment on things you like or what doesn’t make sense.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Why

 

Things got busy in the shop after that, and Erin went to lend a hand at the counter. By the time the mid-morning coffee-break crowd had cleared out, it was nearing noon and Erin still hadn’t seen any sign of Hazel.

Granted, Erin remembered days when Hazel hadn’t shown up. They were few, but it just seemed a little creepy that she hadn’t show up today, after her cryptic voicemail. Why had she left that message when she knew no one would be there? Why hadn’t she called Erin’s cell phone? She had the number. Why was she afraid? And why wasn’t she answering her phone? Erin had never known her to go many places. She mostly stayed in her big empty falling down house.

Just then, the bell over the front door jingled, and Erin looked up to see her best friend, Pepper Robbins, breeze into the shop.

“Pepper!” greeted Adrian with enthusiasm. “Looking good today, girl!”

Pepper was well known in the shop as she stopped there often, and her flamboyant dress style usually caught people’s attention. Today’s ensemble included a bright pink pencil skirt paired with a multi-colored, striped peasant blouse and pink sequined sneakers.

Erin grinned at her bestie and leaned in to give her a hug. “Here for lunch?” Erin asked.

Although they were a bagel shop, they catered to the lunch bunch a bit by having some sandwiches—on bagels of course—ready made in the cold case.

“Nah, I’m good for today,” Pepper answered. “Just wanted to pop in and see your pretty face. Needed a pick-me-up from the slow times at the store.”

Pepper worked as the sales manager for the Variety store two blocks down, near the Safeway grocery store. She helped diversify their offerings from the as-seen-on-tv trinkets to a comic book fanatics dream of issues and paraphernalia from the Marvel Universe—Pepper’s personal fave—and its rival universe, DC. Their busy time was when the kids got out of school in the late afternoon.

Having been friends since grade school, Pepper and Erin often were called “Salt and Pepper” for their opposite coloring and the fact that you could always find them together. They had spent a lot of time at each other’s houses and even gone to Berkeley together. Pepper had excelled and graduated near the top of her class and even earned her MBA in record time. Of course, with her father, the Rev. Michael Robbins breathing down her neck, she could do no less.

Erin had a healthy fear of Rev. Robbins. He was a large man with a booming voice that garnered respect from his congregation at the big AME church downtown. But he really was a softy when it came to his only daughter. She was the youngest of five and having four older brothers was no easy task. But Pepper seemed able to keep them on their toes.

Erin loved her like a sister.

“I need to talk to you,” Erin told Pepper.

“Sure,” Pepper responded with a curious look. “I can’t stay anyway, so why don’t you walk me back to the store.”

Erin told Adrian she’d be back in a few minutes, and they headed out into the October sunshine.

Chapter 3—Believe

Oct5

Welcome to chapter 3! Remember this is a freewrite, highly unedited rough draft. Leave comments for things you like or don’t understand.

Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Believe

 

Erin sat stunned after she listened to the message over again. Bernie and Bryan were Hazel’s husband and 5-year-old son who had been killed in an auto accident 20 years before. What in the world could she be talking about? Hazel was a regular in the shop, and Erin had known her all her life. Ever since she lost her family, Hazel had turned inward. Her house was falling down around her and she wouldn’t let anyone come and help. She still managed to come into the store nearly every mid-morning for her favorite Sly and the Family Bagel with a smear of California Creamin’.

What could Hazel have meant by her message? What had she found out? As far as Erin knew, there had never been any question about the car accident being just that. It had been a foggy night as is common in the hills above Clairmont. Bernie and Bryan had been coming home from T-ball practice. Bernie was a careful driver, but the fog can be disorienting. Erin had just been a small child at the time, but she remembered her parents talking about it. The guardrail above the canyon road hadn’t been able to keep them from going over the side. It had been a great tragedy.

Erin punched Hazel’s number into her cell phone. Drumming her fingers on her oak desk, Erin waited while the phone on the other end rang. And rang. And rang.

Maybe she’s on her way here, Erin thought. It was a little early, but Hazel didn’t always keep to her schedule. Knowing Hazel didn’t have voicemail, Erin hung up after a dozen rings and decided to try again later. It was hard to believe that Hazel could have uncovered something after 20 years, but Erin wasn’t going to dismiss the fear she had heard in Hazel’s voice.

When Hazel hadn’t shown up by 10:00, Erin tried calling again, with the same results. She was definitely getting worried. She picked up her phone again and dialed her Uncle Harry.

“Y’ello,” Harry answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Harry. It’s Erin. Gotta question for you.”

“Shoot me straight, little girl, “ Harry said in his usual breezy way.

“Take me back 20 years to the night of the Hodges’ accident. Was there ever any question about what happened there?” Erin questioned.

“Not that I can think of,” Harry answered. “Why you askin’? That was a long time ago.”

“Hazel left me a very cryptic message on voicemail,” Erin explained. “Said she was scared. She had uncovered something that showed the accident was not really an accident.”

“Erin, you know Hazel’s a few cards short of a full deck,” Harry came back. “I mean, I love her and all, but she’s a little loopy.”

“I know, Harry,” Erin conceded. “But this time sounded different. She’s never left a message like that before. I’ve tried to call her a couple of times, but she hasn’t answered.”

“Doesn’t she usually come in the shop about this time?” Harry asked. “I bet she’ll be there any minute and not even remember she left such a message. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“OK, Uncle Harry. You’re probably right. I just worry about her sometimes,” Erin said. “You gonna come by some time today?”

“Nah,” Harry answered. “I’ve got some things I wanna get done around the house. And I think I’m gonna meet Gordy for lunch on campus.”

Gordon Harrison was Harry’s brother and Erin’s father, an Economics professor at U.C. Berkeley. Gordon had been a widower ever since Erin’s mom had passed away from pancreatic cancer seven years earlier. She was glad the brothers were close, even though they were so different.

“OK,” Erin replied. “Give him bunches of kisses for me.”

Harry barked out a hearty laugh, “Oh yeah, I’ll be sure to do just that, little girl. Don’t you worry.”

They hung up and Erin sat for another few minutes, wondering about just what might have happened that night 20 years ago.

Chapter 2—Afraid

Oct5

Welcome to the next chapter of my 31 Days of Writing story! Just as a reminder, this is a very rough draft of totally freewriting with very little editing involved. If I find I like the story and feel it has potential, I will spend much more time on it. I would love, love, love any comments or ideas to make it better or things that don’t make sense, so leave a comment!

Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Afraid

 

A dim light shone from the kitchen as Erin unlocked the front door and flipped on the overhead light at a few minutes before opening time of 7:30 a.m. Bonnie and Barry had been the husband and wife baker team at Be My Bagel for more than 20 years. They had won acclaim for their bagels from “The Tribune” and even the snooty “Chronicle” along with plenty of foodie websites. They were the dream team of bagel making and Harry was lucky to have them. Now in their late 50s, Bonnie and Barry had an easy rapport with each other and the counter crew, and seemed to love the routine of graveyard baking.

Erin didn’t know how they did it. But she guessed never having kids helped them just make their own schedule. They were willing to try new recipes and loved Harry’s 60s-themed monikers for their creations, having been born in that era themselves. Their personal favorites included Led Bagelin and The Zombagels. The names didn’t really have much to do with how they tasted, but coming up with 60s bands to name them after always made for hilarious staff meetings.

Peeking her head in the warm confines of the kitchen, Erin called a greeting to the team. “Smelling good, as always, guys,” she said as she surveyed the well-organized shelves and counter space of the stainless steel palace. “Keep up the good work!”

Barry and Bonnie looked up in tandem and waved hands covered in flour. “Mornin’, Sweetie!” Bonnie called. “We’re going to try out a new pumpkin spice recipe today, since it’s fall and all that. We’re thinking of calling it ‘The Rolling Bagels.’ Whaddya think?”

Erin laughed and replied, “Sounds perfect to me. I’ll get a display card ready in the case.” As she was walking out the door she called, “Opening in 7 minutes!”

As she moved throughout the spacious shop, turning on lights in the cases and checking various paper supplies, Erin smiled inwardly at the popular décor. People really did come from around the Bay Area and beyond to gaze at the framed photos of 60s greats and autographed albums covers that graced the walls. Harry had an amazing talent for finding treasures in seedy second-hand shops, and sweet talking signatures from the aging greats.

He was particularly proud of the Beach Boys photo featuring himself and Dennis Wilson catching some waves in late ‘67 down in San Onofre. Just before Wilson went a little cockeyed and started hanging out with Charles Manson. Yeah, that happened. Weird.

Erin served the few early morning customers until her counter help, Adrian, came in. As manager, she liked to spend some time serving their guests, but much of her expertise lay in the office where she scheduled the workers, ordered supplies, managed their social media accounts and websites, and generally kept the place running for her Uncle Harry.

As she settled behind the desk in her cozy office, sipping her second cup of coffee for the day, Erin picked up the handset of the retro telephone to check their voicemail for any catering or carry out orders that might have come in late yesterday or overnight. As she went through her prompts to access voicemail, she flipped through the calendar to see if anything had slipped her mind.

Her first voicemail was a small, timid voice asking if they happened to be hiring. The time stamp said 11:30 p.m. Hmm, someone was a night owl. She jotted down the number to give, who was it? Oh yes, Suzy, a call back to let her know they had no positions available at the moment, but if she wanted to come in and fill out an application, she’d be glad to keep it on file. She was old school that way.

The next message caught her full attention. A shaky voice came on. “Erin? Erin, it’s Hazel. I, I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid. I think, I think I know what happened to Bryan and Bernie. Erin? Erin? I don’t think it was an accident.”

Chapter 1—Story

Oct3

Here’s your teaser for my 31 Days of Writing challenge!

Chapter 1

Story

Everyone has a story. Erin Harrison just wished hers was more like an epic “Wuthering Heights” or “Gone With the Wind” than the Reader’s Digest Condensed Version of the terrible “List of the Lost.”

In her little corner of the village of Clairmont on the outskirts of Oakland, California, Erin did her best to keep her plotline going. Whether it be at Be My Bagel, the 60s-themed bagel shop she ran for her hippy Uncle Harry, or with her adorably scatter-brained English Lit professor-wannabe boyfriend, Cory, Erin made the most of her days.

And some days were definitely more interesting than others.

Take Tuesday, October 2nd, for instance.

 

The early Autumn day started out like many others. Her double-belled pink alarm clock woke her with a heart-shaking clatter and she slammed her hand onto the lever to turn off the blasted clarion. Why could she never remember to order a new alarm clock that might wake her slowly with the sweet sound of twittering birds instead? Well, at least it was effective.

With that surge of adrenalin crashing through her veins, Erin threw off the bright orange comforter that didn’t help calm her brain any with its effervescent sunniness. Stumbling in the pre-dawn darkness to her small bathroom at the end of the hall in her tiny one-bedroom apartment, Erin groaned as she caught sight of her sleep-deprived face.

Darn that Sue Grafton for writing such captivating stories. I gotta get better at putting down her books before midnight.

But mysteries were her downfall.

Erin felt a silky softness caress her bare legs and looked down to find her orange tabby, Einstein, wrapping around her legs.

“Give me a minute, baby. I can’t even see what I’m doing yet.”

Einstein jumped onto the top of the toilet tank, sitting and staring as if to say, politely of course, because he was always polite, “I’ll wait for you, my dear, because I know you’ll never forget about me.”

Several minutes and lots of cold-water splashes later, a few swishes of the brush through her long blond hair, Erin grabbed her black-framed, round glasses from the counter and headed to the bright yellow kitchen to get them both some breakfast.

The sun was just beginning to peak through the high clouds as Erin pulled out the white wrought iron chair that sat at her small kitchen table. Since the window faced west with a stunning view of the San Francisco Bay, she only knew that by the tinges of pink stretching across the sky. These early mornings weren’t her favorite, so she was thankful that she only had to open the shop 2 days a week. Every other day, Uncle Harry did the deed, although he was hours after the bakers in charge of creating the deliciousness arrived to start their bagel-baking process.

With her automatic coffee maker dripping away, Erin poured brown pellets of kitty food into Einstein’s bowl next to the table, and refilled his water bowl. He gave a soft mew of appreciation and set out to satiate his hunger. His mouse hunting in the night must not have yielded him anything. Thankfully. In an over-the-garage apartment in a well-established neighborhood in the hills high above Clairmont, one could never be too sure what creatures would make their way through her doors.

But she was very grateful for the accommodation. After graduating from Berkeley with her business degree, Erin had wanted to stand on her own, not depending on her father for housing. Besides, Gordon Harrison needed his space for the lovely Ellen to visit when she was in town. An economist for the city of San Diego, Ellen had entered Gordon’s life one sunny spring day during an economics conference. As a tenured economics professor at U.C. Berkeley, Gordon was a keynote speaker. Ellen tried to visit at least once a month. Erin adored her and hoped that marriage might be in their future. Her dad had been a widower for far too long.

The scent of Peet’s cinnamon coffee brought her back to attention, so Erin got her favorite “It’s no mystery, I love coffee” mug and filled it three quarters full, adding half and half from the throw-back refrigerator to fill it out. Popping a piece of sourdough bread into her teal toaster, Erin sipped her coffee and mentally check-listed everything she had to do that day.

Yesterday, Harry would have taken care of the order that would be delivered today, so when that came in, she would need to inventory it to make sure it was correct. Bills would be paid, salaries for her five employees would be calculated, and she would need to post an update to the shop’s Instagram and Facebook accounts. Which bagel flavor should she highlight today? Creedence Clearwater Rebagel or Pink Bagel? Seeing that it was early Autumn, maybe the cinnamony goodness of the CCR would be appropriate. She’d see to that first thing.

 

As she made her way down the hill to Clairmont Village in the early morning mist, Erin tuned the radio in her little VW Beetle to NPR. Sometimes that was the quickest way to catch up on the happenings around the world. A tsunami in Indonesia. Very sad. Politics, turmoil, flu season starting. Is there ever any good news? She didn’t have a very long drive. The winding roads that got her off the hill only took about 15 minutes. Not very much time to cover everything.

As she pulled into the only parking garage in the village, a short 2 block walk to the shop, the last bit of news she caught was about a crime ring in Berkeley. A crime ring? In Berkeley? She thought. Drugs maybe. Or protestors? But a crime ring? Huh.

Without giving it too much of her attention, Erin closed the door of her Bug, locked it with the key, because, you know, crime rings, and headed toward Be My Bagel.