A Taste of Friday with Tracy Krauss and Wind Over Marshdale

Tracy Krauss is an author, artist, playwright and teacher with several published novels and plays. She holds a B.Ed degree from the U of S and now resides in British Columbia.

 

 

 

WIND OVER MARSHDALE

by Tracy Krauss

Astraea Press (2012)

 

Chapter One

 

A whispered breath skimmed across the long prairie grass like a giant, invisible hand stroking the fur of a silken feline. The screech of an eagle echoed through the valley as it dipped and glided above the river. The rounded slopes of the bank rose above the swiftly flowing water while small clumps of trees clustered nearby, but for the most part, the land stretched uninterrupted toward the horizon.

In the distance, a faint rumbling could be heard. It began to shake the earth as it drew nearer. A cloud of dust accompanied the approaching barrage. Hooves pounded. Nostrils dilated. Eyes reddened with fear. The musky stench of sweat mixed with the heat and dust.

The huge beasts moved en masse toward the precipice. Thousands of shaggy heads bobbed in unison as the herd of bison stampeded forward. As if in slow motion, they continued on, up and over the sharp bank of the river into the ravine below. One by one, they hurtled forward, oblivious to the fate that awaited them, as they toppled headlong to their deaths.

 

Thomas shot up in bed, panting. The T-shirt he wore clung to his body with sweat. It was not the first time the dream had come to wake him.

He took a deep breath, disentangled himself from the sheets, and rose to get a drink of water. No point going back to bed now. He wouldn’t sleep anyway. He padded down the narrow hallway, passing the half closed doorways that sheltered his sleeping children. Ducking to avoid hitting his head as he entered the tiny kitchen, he paused for a moment to look at the expanse of landscape beyond the window. Mostly flat, with a rise of gently rolling hills in the distance, it was clothed with a carpet of rippling grass except for the odd patch of dry fallow. Just like in the dream.

The early morning sunrise was just beginning to filter in, reaching to shed some light in the shadowed corners of the room. Thomas had managed to rent a house near the outskirts of town. Correction. It wasn’t exactly a house. The realtor called it a ‘double wide’. Okay, it was a trailer, but it was the only property for rent in Marshdale at the moment. At least, that’s what the realtor had said. It wasn’t the nicest place – rather dingy if truth be told – and it was farther from school than Thomas would have liked, but it was still within walking distance. Better than the overcrowded and dilapidated homes he’d been used to as a child.

But that was another time. Another life.

He was here now, for better or for worse, and the people of Marshdale would just have to accept it. He was Thomas Lone Wolf, proud of his Cree ancestry, and determined to do something about it. As a community liaison, he’d worked with dozens of indigenous groups all over the western provinces trying to set up business propositions. This time was different, though. It was personal.

With practiced fingers he undid his nighttime braid and shook out his hair, which fell well past his shoulders. Even at forty, there was no sign of graying or hair loss. It was straight, coarse and black, just like his ancestors’ - the perfect picture of a Cree warrior.

Now that he was awake he allowed himself to replay the dream in his mind – at least the parts that he could remember. Like most dreams, the initial clarity soon faded after just a few waking moments. There were buffalo – always buffalo. And they seemed bent on suicide, careening to their deaths before he could stop them somehow.

He was going to start writing it down. The theme was too familiar; the mixture of fear and power too real. Some people said you dreamt in black and white. Thomas wasn’t sure about that. He also knew there was blood in his dream – and lots of it. The redness of it stood out in stark contrast to the muted prairie landscape. And the stench. That unmistakable metallic scent filled his nostrils to such a degree that he could almost swear he still smelled it. Almost. But that was ridiculous and he pushed the memory of the coagulating stains out of his mind.

With a sigh he turned back to the cupboards and started readying the coffee. It would soon be time to wake the children and get ready for work himself. Another grueling day of lobbying something that should be rightfully his to begin with. Reality didn’t stop for dreams.

 

#

 

Rachel Bosworth pulled her car over to the side of the road; gravel crunching under her tires, and came to a rolling stop. She put the car in park, pulled the emergency brake into place with a jerk, and stepped out of the confined yellow compact. She inhaled a deep lungful of the late summer air, surveying the picture of pastoral serenity below. 

Marshdale. This was to be her new home. Surrounded by a patchwork of gold and brown earth, it was an oasis of clustered houses and well established trees cocooned in a desert of wide open prairie landscape. Stretched out to the horizon, the summer sky met with rounded hills.

“Not very big,” Rachel’s friend Sherri noted, joining her on the outside of the vehicle. “You sure you’re going to manage way out here all by yourself?”

“I think it’s perfect,” Rachel said with a satisfied smile. “Just the change I needed.”

“Just the escape, you mean,” Sherri teased.

“Maybe.” Rachel turned to her friend. “Come on, Sherri. I’m feeling scared enough as it is. This is a big move for me. Besides, you’re the one who convinced me to move out west in the first place.”

“Yeah, I know. But I meant for you to move to Regina with Dan and me, not out to some backwoods hole in the wall. They probably don’t even have cell service for Pete’s sake!”

“It can’t be as bad as that. The hiring committee said Marshdale was a totally modern town with all the basic amenities.”

“Yeah? Let’s hope so.” Sherri shaded her eyes with her hand as she surveyed the town below them.

“Come on, Sherri. You’re my best friend.  I need you to be excited for me. Tell me I made a good decision and that I won’t regret it,” Rachel begged.

“You’re right, kiddo,” Sherri agreed, putting on her most encouraging smile. “It will be nice to see you more often, even if it is a two hour drive.”

Rachel nodded. “What’s a two hour drive compared to thousands of miles all the way back to Toronto?”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cute farmer and end up getting married or something,” Sherri shrugged.

“Not interested in men right now, remember? I am here to become the best Kindergarten teacher Marshdale has ever seen.”

“Sorry. That was insensitive of me. I know you’re still hurting over Rotten Ronny.”

“Who?” Rachel grinned, raising a brow.

“That’s the spirit!” Sherri laughed. “Who needs men, anyway?”

“Better not let Dan hear you talking like that,” Rachel warned with a chuckle of her own. “Come on. Let’s get going. I can hardly wait to get my stuff unpacked.”

“I can’t believe you brought so little stuff with you,” Sherri observed, climbing into the passenger seat.

“I wanted to start fresh,” Rachel shrugged, putting the small standard vehicle in gear and rolling forward. “Besides, moving a whole lot of furniture and stuff seemed pointless. I’ve rented this really nice little basement suite. It’s fully furnished. And that’s what you’re here for, remember? I need your expert advice on what stuff I need to buy in the city before school starts next week.”

“Now, shopping is one thing I’m very good at.”

“I know.” Rachel nodded with a grin. “It’s why I brought you along.

“Thanks. I thought it was for the company.”

“Of course. That too.” Rachel laughed again. She sobered quickly and glanced over at her friend. “Thanks, Sherri. For everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Sherri waved a dismissive hand. “I’d be some friend if I didn’t come to your rescue when called.”

“I mean about Ronald. I don’t know how I would have coped without you there.”

“I know, kid.” Sherri gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “That’s what friends are for. Besides, I’ll expect pay back some day, you know.”

They were nearing the outskirts of the village. A large carved sign by the side of the road said, “Welcome to Marshdale.”    

“I bet people live more freely here,” Rachel stated. “It’s what I’m hoping for. The simple life.”

“People have problems where ever they go,” Sherri noted. “It may look all peaceful right now, but I bet they have their share of troubles, just like everybody else.”

“Yeah, like what? No cell service?” Rachel asked, the corner of her mouth turning up.

“Now that would be tragic.”

“I know my life isn’t suddenly going to become a bed of roses,” Rachel admitted, “But it just seems to me that country living – the slower pace – has to do something to calm people. Make them less artificial and – you know – less selfish.”

“We can only hope,” Sherri shrugged. “Now come on, girlfriend. Let’s find that basement suite of yours. If we’re going to unpack, make a list and get back to the city before dark, we better get a move on.”

“Roger that.” Rachel glanced at the hand sketched map that was on the dash beside her. She made a left hand turn at the first intersection.

 

#

 

The interior of the church was cool, quiet and dim. Just the way Pastor Todd Bryant liked it.  He sat on one of the upholstered chairs in the sanctuary, allowing the viscosity of stillness to envelop him like a silky smooth liquid.

Sometimes he wished he could stay in here forever, without having to go out there. The recently refurbished sanctuary was a peaceful place compared to the world just outside its double oak doors. When he had come here just a year ago, he knew the Marshdale Community Church would be a place of refuge; a place to rest and strengthen his own weary spirit. A place to hide.

Modern and well kept, the Community Church had the appearance of comfortable affluence – a testament to God’s favor. The folks who attended were proud of their commitment to the Lord’s work in Marshdale and God had blessed them with material prosperity. They required little actual input from the pastor. Just keep the ship running smoothly, as instructed by the board, and everything should be just fine.

Perfect. His less than amiable departure from his last church had left him feeling just a bit shell shocked.  He needed a place to hide out for a while. As long as he followed the program. . .

 

#

 

Another soul sat alone waiting. The room was dark, the slatted shades drawn over the open window. The only light came from three candles burning in their resting place on the pentagram table top. The air was rich with the heady scent of incense smoldering in the small, intricately designed brass burner. The woman breathed deeply. Empty the mind.  Allow the inner self to emerge . . .

A sudden breeze whipped into the room, announcing its entrance with a slap of the wooden slats on the window frame. It caressed the chimes hanging nearby before darting to tease the three flames into a flickering dance.

She smiled. Yes. There was so much to share; to enrich the lives in this town. There were many paths to enlightenment, but ultimately they all ended one way. It was up to her to release this narrow minded and stiff necked people to accept that.

A Memoir or a Novel - How Does One Decide Which Way to Craft a Story Based on Real-Life Events

by Lorilyn Roberts

 

 

Recently on a Linked-In discussion group, someone made this comment:  “I’m strongly biased toward fiction unless you are trading on celebrity or some highly publicized event. Memoirs put out as imparting the wisdom of the elders or holding up your past mistakes as object lessons turn me off. The fact you were a moron yesterday doesn’t make you a genius today. Journals and memoirs may be great for family but most are less attractive to a general audience and often convey the message of pleading to be loved or admired. Make it fiction and you can be more candid and the reader can decide whether your experience was informative, moving or amusing based on its own merits.” 

I strongly disagree with his statement and share the following thoughts:

Memoirs are some of the most powerful pieces written today, but people are shortsighted. They don’t always see the value of first-hand accounts in the present. Without memoirs, we have history written by partial observers who bring their own worldview into play—maybe at the expense of writing with accuracy the way the events actually happened. Second-hand accounts are never as factual as first-hand stories and never as valuable for historical purposes.

Many people love reading memoirs and will look for them in libraries and bookstores. Life experiences written by people reveal more about society than any history book or journalist covering a story. I am thankful for all the memoirs written today by all sorts of people to give us a peek into the present and the past.

For example, the world never would have known of Anne Frank if she had not written her diary. She was an unknown 13-year-old kid before her father published her diary.

If you have a compelling story to tell, tell it with passion, revealing your innermost struggles and thoughts. Being “real” with the reader will make your story come alive. In my memoir Children of Dreams about the international adoption of my daughters, I was open and vulnerable. That was the right way to tell that story. I could never have fictionalized it.

I just wrote another book and this one is fiction, Seventh Dimension - The Door. In contrast to Children of Dreams, I took certain events from my own life and turned them into fantasy. I had a story to tell and the only way to tell it was as allegory and to fictionalize it. The point being, do what the story calls for and write it. Don’t let naysayers talk you out of writing your story the way you feel it needs to be told. At the end of the day, you have to live with the result and be happy with the story and the way you wrote it.

These are some thoughts I would consider:  Who is your target audience? What is your purpose in writing your story? Can anyone be hurt or impacted negatively if you write your book as a memoir? If you write your story as a memoir in hopes of making money, you need to write your book as “creative nonfiction,” using fictional techniques.

For example, you need a beginning, a middle, and an end. You need to think in terms of “scenes” and “plot” and “problems” that need to be solved. The reader needs a takeaway—what can he learn from your memoir that would be meaningful or cathartic? No one wants to read someone’s boring biography.

If you decide to write your book as fiction, you will have more options and won’t run the risk of being sued or worried about divulging something you might regret later.

 

However, you need the skills to write fiction. Writing fiction is harder than writing a memoir because you have to create “story” out of fiction and make the plot enticing to read. In a future piece, I will suggest some books for writing fiction that I used in my Masters in Creative Writing that I found helpful.

I have written an award-winning piece on writing memoir that is posted on my website. Here is the link for anyone interested. Some might find it helpful. http://lorilynroberts.com/memoir.html

The most important thing as a writer is to keep writing and to keep learning—whether your write fiction, nonfiction, or memoir, and enjoy the journey.

 

 

A Taste of Friday withe Pamela Carmichael and Financial Empowerment

Pamela is involved with the John 3:16 Marketing Network September Launch.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

PAMELA CARMICHAEL is a financial services professional with over 10 years’ experience.

Her book Financial Empowerment gives God-based solutions to personal finance challenges with the purpose of bringing empowerment.

 

CHAPTER 1

Why Money?

Why is money such an important topic today? Everyday activities revolve around money. We can’t do much without it. Money also shows the intents and contents of our hearts as well as our attitudes toward God and others. Money is important because it can have eternal value.

The Bible provides God’s solution to man’s sin problem. As believers we know that Christ has saved us from sin and eternal death, given us eternal life, delivered us from sin’s bondage, healed us physically and emotionally, and given us countless blessings. Yet many Christians do not see Christ as the solution to their financial problems. Though the Word of God says much about money and promises that God will meet the needs of His children; many struggle in this area of their lives. As believers, this ought not to be.

If the Word of God is our compass throughout our Christian walks, why do we not heed its advice when it comes to our finances? If we so believe God and His promises, why do we not heed His instructions in this area?

In one or more areas of their lives, Christians have difficulty obeying God’s Word regarding money, whether it is to tithe, to give, to count the cost, to use money and not to serve it, or to be wise stewards. If Christians became free of money—understanding and knowing how to handle it correctly—their lives would greatly improve. Not only would positive changes emerge in their financial positions, but their correct view of money would be reflected in their relationships with the Lord.

SO WHY TALK ABOUT MONEY?

Money Is Personal

No one on this earth is unaffected by this resource called money. Almost everything we need in life finds its value or weight in this resource. It is—without a doubt—the currency everyone carries. Some people tell us that money is unimportant, but as long as we are on this side of life, money will have a role in our lives. We may have a lot, just enough, barely enough, or none at all. For each of those levels, money will have some effect on us. We will worry about having too much, not have enough to meet our needs, or want more for us, our families, and others around us.

Money affects every life. Money is a personal thing.

Money Answers All Things

The Word of God says that the Lord has given us, His children, all things pertaining to life and godliness. I believe that includes money. We also know that money answers all things – there is little that can be accomplished without the use of money. ‘All things’ includes things like food, clothing, education, health care, and spiritual life. ‘All things’ is related to the physical as well as the spiritual. We may ask, “How can ‘all things’ be spiritual?” Money pays to maintain our church buildings, to source teaching materials and office supplies, to send us to conferences, and to provide other resources to build us up in the faith. As the writer of Ecclesiastes 10:19 says, “A feast is made for laughter, and wine makes merry; but money answers everything” (emphasis added).

Money Is Good, Not Evil

After all these years of reading the Bible, many still think money is evil; however,  the Word of God tells us that the love of money, not money itself, is the root of all evil (1 Timothy 6:10). Money is good if used but not loved. Often many make the fatal mistake of loving money rather than God and His people. Some Christians are afraid of money simply because they fear it will control them. Others downplay its importance in their lives and in building the kingdom of God.

For money to remain a valuable resource, you must master it, see its usefulness, and use it effectively. If you see money this way, you won’t ‘fall in love’ with it, get greedy, or hoard it. But you will find good uses for it.

Money is good and useful.

Money Is a Servant (a Tool)

If we view money as a tool the Master has placed in our hands, we will learn to use it better. Money doesn’t function on its own; it needs human intervention to bring about its usefulness. God puts money in our hands to serve as an instrument of blessing not only to us but also to others. Money is available to serve our interests as well as God’s. We need to employ money to work for us and the kingdom of God.

Just as money in the hands of the righteous can bring about good, so money in the hands of the wicked can promote evil. Hence, the Enemy fights or wars against every believer who desires to bless and promote God’s work with his or her money. He fights by convincing many to spend their money foolishly and, as a result, become bound by consumer debt. Sometimes he creates problems that cause them to easily lose their money.

If you remain alert to the Enemy’s devices and are proactive, you will be able to have more than enough money to do good. Money stands ready and waiting for you to use it to do good. Use it well.

Money Is a By-product of You

Usually those who are not out looking for money make lots of it. Let me explain. The most successful or wealthy people are those who enjoy what they do. They are the kind of people who create a product or service because they believe in it; they fully believe it will benefit those who use it and, as such, never consider that the product or service might not sell. These people live on purpose for a purpose, and out of their driven lives, they must do something outstanding that brings the benefit of financial abundance. They are not necessarily top grade-A students, but they have a gift or idea they followed through on and made money from. They are paid for who they are, what they do well, and what they really enjoy doing. I believe the energy they put into what they do, along with effective marketing, causes their products and services to stand out above the rest.

Have you ever realized that some products stand out more than others? Some brand names are household names more than others, even though other brand names sell the same or better product or service. If you investigate the stories of the people behind these products, you will often find a love for doing what they do, doing it well, and promoting it no matter what led to money in their hands.

Clearly, life is more than money, and money is merely a by-product of who you are. As the Word says, your gift will make room for you before great men (Proverbs 18:16). Money is a by-product of carrying out your life’s purpose.

Money Can Have Eternal Value

Yes, this may sound a bit strange, but money does have eternal value. As we discussed earlier, money is a tool God has placed in our hands to do good. The good it does can be either temporal or eternal.

Think about this. When you give to your local church, you participate in God’s business of spreading the gospel. Through the spreading of the gospel people give their lives to Christ; here you can see the eternal value. Some complain that all the church wants is money, but remember, money answers all good things. You can attach eternal value to your money when you give to your local church or missions, or when you sponsor a child, fund someone’s education, or send a preacher to plant a church. How will someone hear the good news unless someone is sent (Romans 10:14-15)? How can someone be sent without financial support of the local church? Money has eternal value when it is used to spread the good news.

WHAT TO EXPECT IN THIS BOOK

As you walk through the pages of this money book, I will discuss various aspects of financial management. You can see the areas of financial management I plan to cover from this perspective:

 

•     Good money management brings positive returns: income generation, tithing, saving, investing, giving, and lending.

•     Bad money management leads to negative returns: excessive spending and borrowing.

 

I will highlight the problems we face in each of these areas based on personal experience, observation, and research. We will also discuss some of the reasons for these problems, which are often a reflection of our relationship with God. Certainly we will delve into the Word of God and find the solution to each problem.

Although most solutions will be biblical, I will provide some practical tips to help you along this rocky financial road some have been experiencing. Certainly you will learn that God’s Word, when rightly applied, will benefit you in every aspect of your Christian walk, including your finances. For certain, if you govern your life including your money matters according to the Word of God, you will by all means be successful and prosperous.

I wrote this book to enlighten, educate, and empower the body of Christ to be knowledgeable, understanding, and wise in the use of the money resources God has entrusted to us.

One of the challenges we face is the lack of finances common among many Christians. For me this was a problem for years as I observed Christians struggling through life because they lacked the necessary financial resources. Much more can be accomplished to spread the gospel of Christ, but lack of finances and the unwillingness of many to give hinder the progress of God’s work.

This book seeks to address why this lack exists and what is needed to bring financial increase. Of great importance is understanding how to use the financial increase God provides to bless the kingdom of God. To learn that, we must place eternal value on the money available for our use.

This book calls the body of Christ to get its financial house in order. This is a call to start living as children of God, not orphans or beggars. It’s a call to examine our hearts and attitudes toward God and what He has entrusted to us. It’s a call to use what we have to be a blessing and build the kingdom of God.

When you finish reading this book, my prayer is not that you will say this was a good or powerful book. My prayer is that you will act to change how you handle your finances. I hope you will become stronger in your walk with the Lord. His grace will give you the ability to change the way you manage your finances and align them to His will.

Get ready for financial empowerment God’s way! As you examine His Word, may He give you the grace to obey, for this obedience will lead to His blessing on your life.

 

 

Second Bible Camp Mystery to be Released

The second in a series of Bible Camp Mysteries by Christian author Cheryl Rogers is slated for release this Sunday, Sept. 15. Called Alone in the Woods, the book set in the Florida backwoods teaches the power of prayer to heal.

"In the book, the group of campers discover a woman living far off the beaten trail to avoid electricity. When they learn she suffers from a severe immune disorder, they know God has put her in their path," says Rogers. "They pray for her, and she is healed."

The mystery series features a former New York gang leader Chet Harrigan, who leads a fellowship group for 10- to 16-year-old boys attending a Central Florida community church. The group, known as the Boy's Den, puts their faith to the test as they encounter unforeseen difficulties in the woods.

The first book, Lost in the Woods: A Bible Camp Mystery, involves the mysterious disappearance of 13-year-old Zack in the middle of the night. The group battles no-see-ums, a bout of food poisoning, and an impending hurricane as they scour the woods for the missing Zack.

In Alone in the Woods, Chet tries to correct the mistakes they made during that first disastrous trip. He even hires a wilderness guide to join them at camp and build a hut, but he winds up with a novice whose unfortunate blunders only complicate matters. Their dedicated chef, one of the boy's uncles, foils their plan for an elaborate evening feast – when he goes missing.

But two boys who wander off the trail make it all worthwhile when they discover Sandy, a crusty woman who needs some friends pretty badly. Chet tells her about Jesus, the group prays for her, and she is healed.

"It is my goal through the Bible Camp Mysteries to share the biblical path to salvation – and other important truths from God's Word – in a fun and entertaining way," Rogers says.

In the end, Sandy and the group enjoy a sumptuous feast in the wilderness as a forest fire rages at the edge of the park.

Alone in the Woods, aimed at preteens and teens, is available for pre-ordering from Smashwords.com for $2.99. You can find it here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/347520

Swayed by her love of Nancy Drew Mysteries, Rogers decided as a child she wanted to be a writer. But it wasn't until she came to know the Lord, as an adult, that she knew what she was to write about.

"I was suffering from Environmental Illness, a severe immune disorder," Rogers recalls. "When I surrendered my life to him, he healed me."

A former newspaper reporter, she has dedicated herself to sharing the good news of God's salvation through her writing.

With her Bible Camp Mysteries, Rogers has come full circle. "The Bible Camp Mysteries incorporate action and suspense similar to the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boy mysteries," Rogers says, "while infusing biblical principles and godly examples of faith."

Rogers, who publishes NewChristian Books Online Magazine, also has written a short story collection featuring modern Jonahs. Just Like Jonah Wail Tales features wail tales or exaggerated tales of woe involving characters who land in a whale of trouble for their wrong choices. Like Jonah, they surrender their lives to God and receive his mercy. She also has written a parent/teacher guide, Just Like Jonah Wail Tales Workbook, which includes the short stories, plus Scripture citations and discussion questions.

Watch a video with Cheryl reading the first chapter of her upcoming book, Alone in the Woods.

http://youtu.be/ihhd86lvAc4

A Taste of Friday with Malo Bel and Four Given

Malo Bel is involved in John 316 Marketing Network's September Launch.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Four Given, Malo Bel, 2013

 

 Chapter 1. Choices

 

 

5:32am, Thursday, April 11

Crazy! Awesome! Life-changing!

Crazy - because that is what I must be, being awake so early.

Awesome - because of who we’re meeting.

Life-changing - because that is what money does.

This is my story...

 

Here I’m up, at this unearthly hour, starting a blog. Why I've decided to start a blog now is beyond me. Maybe I'm having a midlife crisis at 31. Is 31 too early for that? I dunno. Or maybe it’s a new chapter of my life? Whatever the reason, I’m sure I’m crazy! It doesn’t matter, because today I’m going to meet a man who is going to make it all worth it. Today all those years of building our business are going to pay off. Finally!

To think that it started off as just a two-man, part-time animation business. Randle rocks! He has put together this deal with a big investment company that's going to see Dana and I living the good life. My Dana. My beautiful wife who has sacrificed so much while I've worked. Now I can't wait for today's meeting. We are finally going to cash in on the last 7 years of hard work, no holidays, late nights and stress. Hey, but now it's payback time!

 

7:19 am, Thursday, April 11

OK, I'm now running late. The stupid iron burns my shirt and I can’t find a single pair of matching socks. Here's hoping black and dark navy are close enough to appear the same.

"Malo, its your mom on the phone," Dana calls.

Damn! I’m so stressed and rushed. I really should speak to her. It seems I haven't made the time to talk much to mom lately. No time for her or Dana these days. "Please tell her I'll call her this afternoon. I’m running late," I shout back as I hurriedly make a mess of my tie for the third time. Gotta go! Money time! The future awaits!

 

9:12 am, Thursday, April 11

Damn it! I have never seen traffic like this. And to make it worse I discover some idiot with a flat tire is the cause. As I am finally almost past the car door flings open, nearly causing me to smash into it. A woman steps out, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she is causing. Typical female driver. Only after I give a long blast of the horn does she suddenly see me and shut her door.

 

9:22 am, Thursday, April 11

I arrive at Platinum Investments International. Man alive, this is an amazing reception area. There's a huge sculpture of an eagle swooping down to grab a fish from a pond that is dominated by a nearly 10 foot high waterfall. It's almost like being by a lake. We really need to get away. I can hardly remember what it's like to be at a lake.

Where is Randle? We are meant to start at 9am.

Just then Randle appears coming down the palatial looking staircase. "Hey Randz," I call, "where have you been?" He looks up, almost surprised to see me. "Hey Malo," he replies. "Um...just been checking things out."

A movie-star gorgeous secretary appears informing us that "they" are ready to see us. "Here we go Randz. This is the moment. If they buy us, we are set for life."

 

9:32 am, Thursday, April 11

If the entrance of Platinum Investments International was palatial, then the boardroom needs to be on the bucket list of “places to see before you die." Frosted glass double doors emblazoned with their trademark PI (change all) logo slide open automatically announcing the unabashed importance of the room within. Inside, a massive boardroom table makes it clear that this is the place for important decisions, by important people. Yet even this is overshadowed by the spectacular paintings on all the walls. The artwork in this room alone is worth more than our company. The smell of expensive leather and fresh coffee hangs in the air. As we enter, Mr. Dewati, the CEO looks up from where he is seated at the head of the table.  He is flanked by two other suits, and they all have an air of corporate importance and power.

 

Randle and I stand there for a few moments in complete silence as Mr. Dewati fixes his steel grey eyes on us. I feel as if we are either an alien species, or simply not expected. I am about to nudge Randle to say something when Mr. Dewati suddenly rises and in two long strides is before us shaking hands. "Welcome Randle and..," he pauses as he shakes my hand with a steel-like grip. I quickly say "Malo. Malo Bel." He looks quizzically at me, so I hastily add, "Malory, like the explorer."

Silently I'm cursing my parents for the millionth time for giving me such a stupid name. No one knows who Malory is, and I'm certainly no explorer. Maybe they had great dreams for me. In truth, my birth certificate only has "Malo" on it. Mom said she hates long names being shortened, so now I have to lengthen it instead. "Aah yes, Malory," he says, enunciating the “lo” in a sort of dismissive way, leaving me feeling like a fly under a microscope. I glance at Randle but he is not looking my way. Soon we are seated and a thick file emblazoned with the Pi logo and "CONFIDENTIAL" is before us.

 Mr. Dewati, flanked by the two unnamed suits, begins: "You boys have a nice little business here." His steely stare and calling me "boy" with a "little business" instantly irritates me. "Nice indeed. The animation game is full of wannabes and kids. I must be honest," he continues as he leans back in his chair, "I wasn't interested in looking at your company when it was brought to my attention. This industry is filled with boys playing with toys for no profit. We are in the business of making money, and could care less about pretty cartoons."

I am wondering why we are here with this idiot and glance again at Randle. He seems enraptured by the diatribe. "However," the booming CEO’s voice continues, "I decided to have a look. Glad I trusted my gut," he says, rubbing his slightly protruding stomach as he says it. "I'm seldom wrong. There is potential in your little business. Our offer is on the table in front of you. You have 60 minutes to decide. After this, the offer is withdrawn."

I look at him in shock, blurting out, "60 minutes? But we need time to go through the offer. We need time to think about things,"

"You have time. Exactly one hour. If you can't make a decision in one hour then you are not the sort of quick thinking, innovative company we are interested in."

 "That's ridiculous," I retort. "We are..."

"...more than happy to look at your offer over the next hour," Randle interjects.

"Good," booms Mr. Dewati, "I was beginning to doubt my gut," irritatingly rubbing it again. "You now have 58 minutes remaining," he says as he turns dismissively away and starts speaking to his hovering suits.

I can feel my face getting hot, but before I can say anything, Randle grabs my arm and pulls me out of the boardroom.

 

9:56 am, Thursday, April 11

"What the heck was that all about?" I demand. "He is such an arrogant moron!" "Relax Malo," Randle soothes, "this is our big payday, lets just stay cool and see what they are offering." Armed with our thick copies of the contract we flop down into a soft leather couch in the corner presided over by yet another beautiful painting of a mountain lake scene.

"Randz, how are we going to read this massive contract in less than an hour? It's impossible. I just don't have a good feeling about this."

"We have worked for years to build this company Malo,” Randle replies, “and for months to secure this deal. We are not going to easily find another investor like this. They are a reputable company. They aren't out to rip us off. They want to make money, just like us. Lets just look at the offer."

"OK. So how much are they offering us?"

"Well, it seems to be ummm...six mill...here on page six?" Randle answers as he pages through the contract.

Quickly I turn to page six, my heart beating quickly. Six mill. That was more than I'd expected. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. And yes, there it is..."acquire a 51% share of RandMal Studio for the sum of six million dollars ($6,000,000). One hundred thousand ($100,000) payable on signing and the remainder over the next twenty four months..."

"Wow," I gasp, my heart still beating with excitement. "Wow. Six mill. It's almost too good to be true."

"I told you Malo this is our payday and these guys are for real. Let’s sign this thing and get what we deserve."

"Yeah, but I think we still need to try and see if there are any surprises hidden in this encyclopedic contract," I reply.

Randle has always been a bit of a “jump first, ask questions later” kind of guy, even if its skydiving he's trying for the first time - and that's a real example. But I'm a bit more careful. I wouldn't say I'm overly cautious, but I'd like to at least ask a few questions about how we land and what happens if the parachute doesn't open. Hey, but I'll still jump.

This deal was beginning to feel a little like our first skydiving experience. Randle leaping out during the countdown at 3 and shouting "Kamikaze," much to the shock of the instructor and me, who was still asking about the wind speed and the appropriateness of jumping today.

 

10:41 am, Thursday, April 11

Glancing at my watch, I realize we have about 10 minutes to make a decision that will undoubtedly change the course of our life.

A door nearby bangs open. I look up, irritably, to see a flustered, middle-aged, lesser minion of Pi, darting out. He’s carrying a stack of papers, undoubtedly destined for some other hopeful entrepreneur. His face is carved with worry lines, and his hair is streaked with silver, as though time’s hand has painted him unfavorably.

As he rushes past us he bumps the corner of our couch and manages to lose his grip on the stack of papers. Papers proceed to fly skywards and slowly flutter down like one of those snow globe scenes. His look of shock makes me feel happier in some weird way. I turn my attention back to our contract, while the disheveled Pi minion scrambles to collect his pages.

 

10:49 am, Thursday, April 11

Just then the boardroom doors open spewing out one of the suits. "Five minutes left gentlemen," he says in a monotone nasal voice, and promptly turns and vanishes behind the hiss of the closing boardroom doors.

"I haven't had a chance to read even a quarter of this thing Randle. I dunno. What if we are missing some catch clause? I don't like being pressured like this."

"Mellow Malo," Randle replies, using his favorite refrain when I get stressed. "This is our dream. We have taken many risks along the way, and looking back they have always paid off. This is the big one."

"I know. I know. But why the rush? Why the pressure?"

"I think it's how they work here," Randle replies, "from the outset they are testing our mettle. Lets make our last big play. You and I. Lets do it. Let’s jump!"

 

10:54 am, Thursday, April 11

The hiss of the sliding doors opening, jerks our attention. Out emerges the same stiff suit. "Time," he chimes like a robot. "It's now or never," he says as he turns sharply and disappears back into the boardroom.

Randle jumps up. "Come on Malo. Let's do it. We've dreamed it. We've lived it. We've earned it. Let's take it!"

"You're right,” I say. “You're right. We’ve earned it," I stand up while glancing at the disheveled guy, gathering the last of his pages. We make brief eye contact and a sense of something strange passes between us. Do I know him? He looks strangely familiar. But I can’t place him. His eyes seem to say "Please!"

Please what?

"Please help me" or "Please save me from this job" or maybe "Please don't sign!"

Just then the doors slide shut hiding him from view and sealing my choice.

 

 

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