[stylist] Chapter 0

Sun Apr 25 23:15:19 UTC 2010

You got me, hook line and sinker. I want to read the next chapter!  

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Joe Orozco
Sent: Sunday, April 25, 2010 2:11 PM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: [stylist] Chapter 0

Dear all,

I wrote the material below in the span of an hour.  Therefore, do not expect
anything great.  It still needs a lot of development.  In fact, it is
Chapter 0 because I feel this may be a better beginning to my novel after
the suspense of the prologue, but for the moment I am especially interested
in your assistance with dialogue.  All suggestions are welcomed, and for
this chapter you needn't worry about offensive content.  Cindy's website
recommendation looks like a great one.  I'll reserve my sensitive content
for that venue if it would make people happy.

***

	Christian always knew they would come calling one day.  He wasn't
sure how they would make contact.  Perhaps a mysterious letter would one day
appear in their mailbox.  Maybe one morning he would open his e-mail inbox
to discover a message from an unidentified sender, but given their obsession
with secrecy, it was more likely that someone from the old fraternity would
simply appear at the front door bearing news of the type Christian and his
family could do without.
	They chose the telephone.  Christian would have never guessed the
fraternity would gamble with an unsecure line, but he had always been right
to assume that when they did reconnect with him, it would come as a total
surprise no matter how much he thought he'd prepared for the inevitable
encounter.  On the morning the call came through he was deeply immersed in
the first chapter of his latest novel.  The idea had come to him, as so many
of them often did, without forethought, and by the time he'd seen his family
out the door, the kernel of an idea had swelled into the makings of a
promising plot.
	He snapped a glance at the caller ID, saw that it was an
unidentified caller and dismissed it as a telemarketer.  In his feverish
state of mind he only wanted to be left alone to fully concentrate on the
story unfurling under his fingers.
	"Mr. Adams, this is Don speaking.
	Christian froze, fingers hovering over the laptop keyboard, eyes
slowly moving to the answering machine that was now conveying a clipped
British accent from his past.
	"I trust you are well.  It has been a while since we've spoken, and
I am sure there is much catching up for us to do."
	The energy left Christian in a stomach-turning lurch.  He slumped in
his seat, eyes riveted to the machine.
	"Mr. Adams, it is important that we speak at your earliest
opportunity.  If you are listening to me now, it would be preferable that
you pick up the phone so that we may discuss the matter.  This is most
urgent."
	Christian pondered it for a moment.  He could ignore the call,
pretend he was not home.  Then a memory of the man's ice blue glare
surfaced.  That penetrating stare had always troubled Christian.  Now it was
almost as though the man were in the room, daring him to be foolish.  He
slowly reached out for the receiver, willing his voice to sound calm and
collected.  This was a fine morning after all, and there was no need to be
afraid of a mere voice at the other end of the line.
	"Hello," he croaked.
	"Ah, good.  I see you are home after all."
	"Wha, what do you want?"
	"Come now, Mr. Adams that is no way to greet an old friend."
	"We are not friends."
	"So you are still a bit sore about that old business.  I dare say it
has been far too long for you to hold a grudge."
	"You're unbelievable."
	"Alas, it would appear time may not heel all wounds after all.  So,
let me get to the purpose of my call."
	Christian's hand tightened around the receiver.  He had never cared
for the man's false joviality, but he was sure it would be far preferable to
the blow that was no doubt coming.
	"One of your brothers has met with an unfortunate...accident."
	"I have no brothers."
	"I'm sorry.  I thought we were through being coy.  Biologically,
yes, you are correct, but of course you know full well I was referring to
the brotherhood in the fraternity."
	"I left the fraternity."
	"You never left the fraternity," the man sighed as though exercising
immense patience with a stubborn child.  "You may never leave the
fraternity.  You were well aware of this at your induction."
	"I was told I could--"
	"You were told you could what," the man interrupted, no longer
bothering with pleasantries, "just leave and pretend your membership and
allegiance never existed?"
	Christian's eyes strayed to the family photo hanging over the
fireplace.  In the picture his son Kevin was a newborn cradled in the arms
of a smiling Carolyn.  Posing for the photo, he had felt that his life had
truly taken a turn for the better, that his past would fade into distant
memory.  Now, despite the fear still raking his stomach, he almost grinned
at his own stupidity.  Had he truly believed he could just get away?
	"One of the brothers and his wife have met with an untimely death.
They had a son, Theodore, who has been left behind with no suitable
guardians.  The High Council has met and decided your family would be best
suited to assume responsibility for the young man."
	"I beg your pardon?"
	Christian was torn.  On the one hand he could not have felt more
relieved.  He had been certain the request would be far more despicable.
Exactly what he thought they might ask of him he could not imagine, but on
the other hand, what was this business about taking care of a boy?
	"What part of it did you not comprehend, Mr. Adams?"
	Christian sat forward.  "You want me to just take in a boy I've
never met?  From a group of people I haven't even spoken to in more than
eighteen years?"
	"In a word, yes.  Do you foresee a problem with that?"
	"Do I foresee a problem with that?"  Christian was appalled.
"You're damn right I foresee a problem with that.  I think you're crazy to
just call me up this way."
	"I'm sorry."  The man's sarcasm told Christian he was anything but.
"Should we have rolled out the announcement in a red carpet for you?  You
have an obligation to the fraternity.  For years now you have been allowed
to go about your business despite the concerns of several of the brothers.
Your respite is over.  Taking care of the son of one of your brethren should
be an honor to you, especially since worthier members would have been all
too glad for the privilege."
	"I am sorry for the boy's loss," Christian hissed.  "But you just
can't call me and expect me to be overjoyed at the thought of being coerced
into taking in a child from a family I never even met."
	"Coercion," the man mused, savoring the word.  "That is not quite
how I view it, but you are right to assume that you do not really have a
choice in the matter.  The boy will be coming to your home in approximately
three months.  This should give you ample time to prepare for his arrival."
	"And if I refuse?"
	"Let us hope you will never need to find out."

***

Joe Orozco

"Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves,
some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all."--Sam Ewing

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