Wrong Call

Image courtesy of stockimages /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Jason Randhurst was jubilant as he stepped out of the elevator of the Dumont Towers building.  He had just left an interview for the top securities investment company in the country. He could hardly believe after almost a year of looking for a job that he would have an interview go so well.  Every other interview he had ended up with an unexpected rejection.  This interview sounded certain that he would be getting the job of a lifetime.

He stepped onto the brightly sun-drenched city sidewalk when his cell phone rang.    Reaching into his pocket and pulling the phone out he realized it was not his phone.   In the excitement of the interview he must have grabbed the interviewer’s phone. When he looked at the caller ID he noticed the call was from Frank Randhurst, his father.

Oh good, Jason thought. Dad wants to know how the interview went.  Then he stood in a confused state staring at the phone.  How would Dad know I have this phone? he thought as he reluctantly answered it.

“Hello” he said in a quizzical sounding voice.

“Hey there Howard this is Frank,” he heard his Father’s domineering voice on the other end.  “I hope you will follow through as I told you to and give that position to my son. You know what I told you. I know everything you did and I will keep quiet if you give my boy that job.  No job and I go to the authorities and tell everything,” Frank said in a self-important voice.

Jason was horrified as he listen to his Father speak.  What was his Father doing?  It wasn’t he, Jason Randhurst who had impressed Howard Southwick, CEO of the Dumont Securities Company with his brilliant resume?  Was his Father blackmailing Mr. Southwick?

“Like I told you, your secretary who you think is so loyal to you isn’t.  She let me in on how for the last ten years you have been embezzling from the company,” Howard said with a sinister snicker. 

“You know I want my boy to work at the top company.  Every other place he has interviewed at I submitted an anonymous devastating reference.  Your company is where I want him to be, you will give him the position and at a mammoth salary.  You understand this, do you not?”

Jason stood stunned listen to the threatening words his father was delivering.  What should he do?

“So Howard,” Frank said in an arrogant way, “what do you have to say?”

“Hello Dad.” 

© Copyright 2014  Eileen A Partak

Observing the Coffee Shop People... And a Little Love and Passion - Entry 4

 Image courtesy of Sura Nualpradid /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This started as a writing exercise as I sat at the coffee shop observing people for character development.

Reading over it one day I  decided to write a short story based on the characters.  I kept it in the form of a journal.

January 10….

Starting again.  Trying to get the creative feelings going for the New Year.  Writing every day…haha…a joke I think.  Am I looking for something or not? 

Seems to be baby day at the café.  A couple with a grandbaby, they are much older people than me.  There are also two men with two children.  A cute little toddler girl and an infant in the seat still with a snowsuit on, I can’t tell if the infant is a boy or girl.  I think they are a gay couple, just seem like they are partners and not baby sitting for their wives.  They are in early 40’s, African- American.   The one man knows how to take care of the children very well; the other man was looking at cookbooks.  The kids are so cute, they seem happy, the whole family seems happy.  The little girl is waving at me. I don’t think she knows I’m white or that I’m fifty-six or that I still have such lustful sensual thoughts and feelings, at my age.  No one knows that, shouldn’t that be gone when silver moves into the hair and retirement come?  Maybe I’m odd.  I wave back at the little girl.

Look at them, such a happy family the kids are so cute you can see they are so loved.  Some would criticize this family consisting of two dads thinking it so awful for the kids.  I don’t know, isn’t love just love.  Those kids could have “mommy & daddy” and just exist with no love, only hate, misery and abuse given to them.  And the two men, they seem so content with each other.  A partner to go through life with to share the pain and the love, having someone to share life with sounds so ideal.   Make note:  need a life partner.

I am drinking a Chi Tea Latté; the old man at the counter does not know how to make it very well.  Aretha Franklin is not here, wasn’t here before Christmas either. I wonder if she was the one who fell. I heard that someone fell.  I hope not. I miss Aretha, she likes my hair, and I need people to remind me I still am good.

The Grandma must be a great-grandma.  She is having fun with the baby.  She has no worries, raised her kids now she is having a great time with the baby. Two different generations, two that can get along and are sometimes forgotten and they both can learn so much from each other.  Society needs to respect elderly people they have much love to give to children. Will I ever be a grandma?  I’m old enough, oh but my mind is twenty-six and I still have lustful sensual thoughts and feelings. Grandmas can’t have those. Can they?  ....

© Copyright 2014   Eileen A Partak

Moving On

The train viaduct cracked before we walked under it

It never does that - there were moving parts I had never seen before

Not sure what was going on above us

We went ahead anyway trembling just a little

Came out on the other side but things still did not seem right

Our daughter was still on the other side with her friend

I wanted her to come to me but was so afraid for her to walk under the viaduct


Copyright © 2010 Eileen A Partak

Aging vs. Maturing

You say you can’t stay out late any more

or eat those sliders at 1 a.m.

Dragging through work the next day

antacids your main meal

You count the gray hairs on your head

I’m getting old you say

can’t do things the same

Don’t understand the young kids

they have a different work ethic

I tell you that I am mature

old sounds like a nasty word to me

But if you say you are old

what does that make me…

My dear son


Copyright © 2010 Eileen A Partak