Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 64

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 64

…”Fanny Renwick at your service…”

Connie and Fan have been the best of friends ever since they met in a Tallahassee eatery 20 years ago, in the midst of the Great Depression…

‘Where is that waiter with my bill?’ Constance Caraway wonders, eating out alone having vowed that she would never do so, ‘only losers eat by themselves’. Having broken off yet another relationship the week before, the 24 year old coed she finds herself alone again. She has taken her time at university, not able to focus in on any specific major, although she always fancied herself a writer, ‘You are a bore, Connie, face it. You need some excitement in your life. Why write about something, when you can experience it first hand’.

“Who are you talking to?” asks the waitress, who had been working that “lounge” side of Yancy’s Place (Yancy hates the greasy spoon designation), replacing Constance’s former male server.

She puts away her journal, looks around as if losing track of someone, “I was—well— looking for the waiter, you know I am done eating and I’d like to leave.”

The young girl notices the legal pad, “Are you a writer? I love to read, reading Agatha Christie on my breaks.”

“Murder at the Vicarage?” Constance does fancy herself the heroine type, especially a younger version of Christie’s Miss Jane Marple. “ I haven’t written much of anything lately.” Constance is secure in that statement, but upon closer examination, she takes notice of the perky redhead handing her the bill she had been looking for. Upon further inspection, this young woman seems overqualified for waitressing “I do not recall seeing you in here before.”

Fanny Renwick at your service; would you like dessert, we have lemon meringue pie, rice pudding and the chef’s famous triple chocolate cake?” Fanny does well do recite the desert menu. “I usually work the bar.”

“I’ll have that cake, thank you,” she had not planned on topping off her meal with a treat, but what the hell. She will temporarily ignore those 5 extra pounds as swimsuit season down at Panama City Beach is around the bend. For the present, she will risk the extra calories in the interest of prying into this Fanny-person’s life status.


Constance Caraway P.I.

Forever Mastadon


page 61

Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #14

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #14

…There is no moment so defining sad as the body lowering into the ground…

 

“Married?” There is a slight trembling in his voice, reflecting a tinge of unwarranted possessiveness.

“Yeah, an Italian policeman, Amelio is his last name. Nice guy treats her real good too.”

   No Maggie and now no Camille, not that he ever laid claim to the latter, a comely woman of Puerto Rican decent. She was a house cleaner when a much younger A.O. Campbell found his way into her third floor bedroom, with floor length red fringe doorways. The passion they shared was love, but quite different from the comfortable version he has in Tallahassee, with Maggie owning land and buildings and fancy stuff; comfortable indeed.

          Still and all, a life with Camille was always lurking in the forbidden shadows of his life. But the shadows are now gone, thick clouds masking the suns of his life.

Funeral-001

With respects paid and proper, the funeral of Maggie Lou Campbell has a grim black hearse to the front of the procession, curtained side windows concealing the wood box, which will occupy the freshly dug hole in the Oakland Cemetery. It is a scenic graveyard, for whatever that is worth, but the Campbell 16×16 plot is Spartan, off by itself in a new section, flat and undistinguished. Compared to the grand statues, stones, monuments and vaults of some local families, this newest of holes is among tall grass, not easily to be found in the future, when people will come to pay their respects.

The four score mourners form a crescent ring around the grave, Pastor Johnson and the prolific arrangements of cut flowers thereabout. There is no moment so defining sad as the body lowering into the ground. To some, those who choose not to believe in everlasting life, it is like a door that is permanently closed, never to be opened again.  While pagans here are few, the rest feel that when the fresh dug dirt hits the mahogany lid, it is a temporary goodbye.

Yet that very finality weighs heavy on the grieving hearts, eyes burning, immersed in salted tears.


 

Alpha Omega M.D.

Episode #14


 

page 14

Doc Campbell-001Characters A.O.-001

 

 

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