LaSalle Park - a new novel!

Sometimes a day starts out typical, but ends anything but…

38 year old Elaine Marie Gorsky (Lainy to those that really knew her) was the ultimate in femininity. She wasn’t just feminine she oozed it and when she was around, you knew you were in the presence of a modern day goddess. She had a sparkling personality, girlish giggle and a body that demanded attention from men and women alike. But don’t let that fool you! Lainy was not someone to take lightly and if you crossed her, or took her kindness for granted, you’d only make that mistake once.
It was a hot and miserable day in Buffalo New York, but Lainy arrived at Channel 2 WGRZ news dressed in the perfect suite, her hair effortlessly tossed and her makeup perfect. Lainy loved her part time job as a special reporter for the news station. It gave her just enough money to pay her everyday bills while she worked on her novel. Lainy aspired to be a novelist and she found her job at the station worked perfectly with her life style.
“Good morning Elaine, Mr. Bothwell is running a little late, do you have your interview questions ready?” Craig Horton the morning producer greeted her. Of course it was a rhetorical question, Lainy never prepared notes for her interviews, she just went on gut instinct and Lainy’s gut rarely steered her wrong. She smiled, her blue/green eyes twinkling, pointed to her head and nodded. Craig sighed and walked away. He knew better than to expect anything less than a flawless interview from her, but Craig was paid to be a perfectionist, it was his job and he was good at it.
Today’s interview was with Mr. Dwayne Bothwell, an independently wealthy business man who wanted to by the property at La Salle Park on the waterfront along Lake Erie off the I190. This was government property and despite the 4.2 billion dollars Mr. Bothwell was offering for the site, the good people of Buffalo, New York were not set on selling off their little piece of nature in the city for an exclusive golf resort. There was already the Buffalo Yacht Club just on the other side of Porter Street. The fine people of Buffalo were outraged, but the city is in hard times and this could also be the boost it needed to bring people back to Buffalo and boost the local businesses.
Mr. Bothwell arrived 45 minutes late wearing an Armani suite and a pompous grin on his face. Lainy didn’t look intimidated at all, she shook his hand smiling her effervescent smile and sat beside him crossing her legs like a lady, taking notice of Mr. Bothwell’s eyes which were following the curves of her voluptuous body. Lainy was used to this kind of notice and wasn’t afraid to use it as a vantage point.
She began the interview by letting Mr. Bothwell talk about himself. How he went from a bright, yet poor boy on the streets of Brooklyn to the savvy and very rich business man he is today. Bragging a bit about his street smarts and telling the same stories he told every interviewer. Lainy allowed this, letting him become comfortable so he’d let his guard down just a little. Craig watched from behind the camera men, nervously excited, knowing what was going to happen next.
It is said that Mr. Bothwell who was born in South Africa has ties to the Musina Mafia in South Africa, though those ties have never been established, some of his financial dealings have had a shady past. Besides, the funds for La Salle Park has been unsubstantiated as of yet.
Once Mr. Bothwell was comfortable and just a bit cocky (thinking this pretty woman was just another silly reporter) Lainy hit him hard with questions. At first he smiled seemingly amused by her, then, as the questions grew tougher, he became almost indignant until finally, he smiled, looked at his watch and apologized for having to cut the interview short – he did, after all, have an important meeting with Mayor Byron W. Brown in thirty minutes and you mustn’t keep a Mayor waiting! Lainy smiled her brilliant smile, thanked him for his time and asked him “Mr. Bothwell, if I may, why do return to South Africa so often and meet privately with known members of the Musina Marfia if you have no ties to them?” Mr. Bothwell looked straight through her with an ominous glance. “This is unsubstantiated; I refuse to answer such ridiculous accusations young lady.” And with that, he turned on his heal and stormed out of the station. The camera caught every moment of his reaction where you can be assured, it was replayed for all the viewers on the evening news. Along with Lainy’s big smile – yes, she nailed this one and Craig smiled a sigh of relief mixed with excitement, they had a great interview.
Lainy followed the camera crew into the editing room and silently observed as they worked their magic. Lainy didn’t like to interrupt the creative process. She’d done her job, now it was time to let the rest of the station do theirs. Once the piece was ready for airplay, Lainy and a few of the crew went out for a nice lunch.
Her work day was over by 1:00 pm. She ran home and changed into a red tank and denim shorts, grabbed her three girls; Miranda (3), Finona (9) and Jossylin (12), then headed to La Salle Park with her laptop and a steel water bottle filled with 6 oz. of wine. The kids could play in the park while Lainy wrote a chapter or two.
They all slathered up with sunscreen and the girls giggled and frolicked in the park for a few hours while Lainy sipped her wine and slipped into her world of fantasy. The sun was strong and she kept calling the girls back to drink some water, munch on fruit or reapply sunscreen. Today was bliss to Lainy, this is who she was; mother, reporter, and writer. She could be all things at once.
Around supper time, Lainy started to pack up their things when she felt someone watching her. She looked up to see Mr. Bothwell and another man standing a few feet away. She smiled and waived them over, a bit nervous that they had been watching her and her girls, but still choosing to remain friendly and professional – after all, that’s who Lainy was.
The two men approached and Mr. Bothwell introduced his lawyer Jonathan Brady to her. She shook his had politely and again took pleasure in the way Mr. Bothwell noticed the feminine curves in her body. The men looked ridiculous in a park, in business suits on such a hot and muggy day. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Lainy packed up her kids and they headed for home. It had been a long, hot afternoon and she was sure that after a light dinner and a bath, the three girls would drift effortlessly to so sleep. Her husband Douglas was away on business this week, so Lainy could continue writing. She didn’t have another interview at the station until Friday.

Excerpt from; LaSalle Park

TYPO
The desert sun was hot as Lainy trudged up the the mountain at dusk. She thought long and hard about her question, she would only be given one chance to ask, to understand.

Once Lainy reached the top, she approached Eenwa, the wise and bowed in respect, then inhaled one deep breath, ran her fingers through her thick, moist, unruly hair and composes herself before the mighty one.

"You come with a question my child?" Eenwa asks in a gentle,yet commanding tone.

By Eenwa's command, Lainy stands up tall and trys to appear confident. "Why can't we delete people from our lives the way we delete a typo?" She asks in controlled words.

"A typo is an unconscious mistake, a slip of the fingers. Every person who enters our life has a purpose, a meaning. They are hear to teach us even if it causes us pain. Your presence here tonight is prof of that. You are not hear by accident, our paths were meant to cross." The wise one said with conviction.

Lainy stood there for a moment, letting Eenwa's words fill her.

"But I need to let him go" Shed told the wise one.

"You already have, but he will remain with you forever. He is a part of you, and you a part of him. But you have removed the layers and now you see truth." She said with a finality in her voice and Lainy knew it was time to leave.

As she made her way down the mountain, her heals digging into the dry sand, she noticed the succulent agave along the trail. A king snake slithers and she stops to watch as it makes patterns in the sand. Slowly the realization takes hold, the wise one is right. This is not a chance, not a mistake, it's not a typo. Tonight has purpose.

It's Only a Dream

After midnight, sleep won’t come
The thoughts keep playing through my mind
The thoughts of you, your amber eyes

Two am the clock keeps ticking
Images keep going through my mind
It's been many, many years since I've felt so dead inside

I see us underneath the moon
Outside beneath the stars
The sky a velvet blue, the smell of winter in the woods

As we sit beside the fire, roaring in the winter cold
The snow flakes fall around us, but the fire keeps us warm
The snow flakes fall without a sound

A wise and ancient man, is sitting by your side
He talks to you in tongues of old
His words to you are wise

You nod at him politely, and slowly turn to face me
Your amber eyes meet mine
You touch my cheek so tenderly

And I know you’ve said goodbye