Here's a section of the first chapter of "Just a Matter of Time."
One
Janice Amwestson carefully steps between the rows of vegetables in her backyard garden alongside the greenhouse. She looks over the roof of the greenhouse, her ears tuned for a whirling noise. She directs her gaze over the house, into the blanket of treetops, as the rising sun illuminates the scattered white fluffy clouds. Another beautiful day.
Her husband, Robert, hollers out the back door, “Honey, I’m leaving. I may be a bit later at the office. I’m taking the bike. Got that meeting tomorrow evening.”
“Be careful,” Janice replies as the screen door squeaks.
Janice has a wicker basket over her left forearm that holds a few of the selectively chosen first ripened tomatoes, an immature head of iceberg lettuce and a few cucumbers. She methodically bites into a tomato concentrating on the taste. She pauses and looks at the other half. How magnificent this is.
Arlene’s voice from the other side of the picket fence interrupts her thoughts. “Hey, Jan. How’s it going? Are those the first?”
“Oh, good morning Arlene,” Janice answers, looking to her neighbor standing near the vine-topped gazebo.
“Didn’t disturb you, did I?” Arlene asks.
“No, no,” Janice replies. “What’s going on with you guys? Anything new?” Smiling, Janice gently steps over the row of lettuce and onto the double railroad tie border. “Here, try one of these.” Janice picks a cherry tomato out of the basket and hands it over the wood fence to Arlene. “They’re terrific, but you’ll have to get your salt.”
“Thanks.” Arlene slowly bites the tomato in half.
“How many of those white seeds are in there?” Janice shares her thoughts. “It’s amazing whenever I take the time to look at the details of these things we thoughtlessly devour. We enjoy the flavor while thinking of something else, never pondering the nature of a simple tomato. How did it grow up from one of those white seeds? What enables it to do that?”
“Huh?”
“You weren’t listening?”
“My mind was wandering again,” Arlene replies. “You guys still having that meeting?”
“Yes, you’re coming, aren’t you?”
“No, Charlie changed his mind. And I agree. It’s too much.”
“What do you mean, too much?”
“Well, come on Jan, don’t you think you are getting into dangerous territory? You’re crossing the line.”
Janice interrupts. “We’ve heard that before, and we’ll handle that if it comes. But I wish you would. After what happened to the Smiths, you’re going to drop it? You guys were all for it. Why the change?”
“We’ve got to protect ourselves now that our retirements are so close. We could lose everything Charlie’s worked so hard for, and mine too. Now the kids, they need our help.”
“Why? What happened? Are they all right?” Janice responds.
“Not that well. It’s falling apart. We learned last night that Bruce might lose his job, and Maycie is experiencing excruciating pains from that recent back surgery. He told us that the doctor couldn’t increase the medications.”
“I’m sorry.” Janice reaches across the fence to touch Arlene’s hand.
“She tries to sleep through it, has even thought of putting the girls in the developmental center. Bruce is beside himself. He called 911 the other night, but they told him that unless she was in imminent danger, they couldn’t dispense an ambulance.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Bruce would have to take her to the ER and bring the kids along too. But the insurance wouldn’t pay for it if her doctor would not allow the additional dosage. He is blaming himself for her accident. He’s been to confession a dozen times. He took time off work to stay with her through the first couple weeks, and now he’s about to be fired. Something about insurance.”
“You’re still going to take that trip to Alaska?” Janice asks.
“Nah, that’s been put on hold. You guys pray. Remember us, will you?”
“Sure, Arlene. I’ll mention it at the meeting.”
“Thanks, we’re packing to head over there to see . . . Well, to comfort them, see the kids, and engage Maycie a bit. Try to get her mind sidetracked from her body discomfort. And, ah, to give Bruce a break too.”
“Good for you. Tell Maycie that we’ll be praying for her. Here, she may enjoy some fresh fruit.” Janice hands Arlene the basket.
“Thanks.”
“Keep me informed.”
“I may stay a week or so. You may not hear from me until I get back.”
Arlene looks to the sky around the homes and leans in close to the fence, whispering, “You have any Oxycontin left over from Robert’s surgery?”
“Huh?”
“Yes, that pain medicine Robert had.”
“Even if we did, you know I can’t give you any.”
“Oh, come on. Nobody will know.”
“I’ll know.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone. Maycie is suffering.”
“Arlene, it’s wrong and against the law.”
“Come now! It’s for Maycie. She needs something.”
“I can’t. You know that.”
Arlene’s demeanor turns sour. “Yeah, you and all your self-righteous bunch. You go out helping the homeless and won’t help a neighbor.”
“Arlene. I can’t. You know that.”
“Yeah, you do it all the time on those trips you take.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.” Arlene looks up and loudly says into the air. “There’s a meeting here tomorrow.”
“Arlene, stop it,” Janice yells, trying to reach across the fence for her neighbor’s hand. “I know you’re up against a wall. We’d both be in trouble. You’re a good friend, and I’d do anything for you, but this, you know I can’t.”
“Oh, forget it.” Arlene turns away, stomps back toward the house muttering, “Go ahead have that meeting of yours. Get back into that closet. Damn hypocrites!”
“Arlene, wait! Arlene!” Janice shouts, as her friend slams the door shut. Janice freezes, dumbfounded. She stares at the screen door. Is this a nightmare? A dream? What happened? What? What? Why? Forgetting the veggies, Janice slowly walks back to the house pausing every few steps to look toward Arlene’s back door. “Why, Lord? Why?” She steps up on the deck and takes one last look at Arlene’s back door.
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