LITERARY FICTION
MARCH 2018
CORN - A TREAT
WILLIAM CASS
~
Before leaving the house, Gertrude checked in on her husband, Carl. He was lying on his back on their bed in a sleeveless T-shirt, pale blue boxers, and black socks. His eyes were closed, and the blinds were shut against the late afternoon light. A fan in the corner moved back and forth blowing the hot Indian Summer air. The radio on the bedside table was turned low to a baseball game; she didn’t know if he was listening to it or not. She looked past him to the back of the closet door where the outfits they’d picked out for their fifty-fifth wedding anniversary dinner hung. That had been two weeks ago, but Carl hadn’t felt up to going.
Continue reading.
CORN - A TREAT
WILLIAM CASS
~
Before leaving the house, Gertrude checked in on her husband, Carl. He was lying on his back on their bed in a sleeveless T-shirt, pale blue boxers, and black socks. His eyes were closed, and the blinds were shut against the late afternoon light. A fan in the corner moved back and forth blowing the hot Indian Summer air. The radio on the bedside table was turned low to a baseball game; she didn’t know if he was listening to it or not. She looked past him to the back of the closet door where the outfits they’d picked out for their fifty-fifth wedding anniversary dinner hung. That had been two weeks ago, but Carl hadn’t felt up to going.
Continue reading.
DECEMBER 2017
CINNAMON
JEFF FLEISCHER
~
The very rhythm of the word always resurrected Grandfather’s stories.
“Cinnamon.”
It had been a quest for this spice that first enticed his ancestors to the sea, luring a sextet of Dutch brothers from the quiet toil of village life to a perilous existence aboard a ship circumnavigating Europe.
Only four of the boys had lasted the full junket to Ceylon. They lost one of their brethren to a collapsing mainsail in a storm off Gibraltar, and another counted among the two dozen men felled by dysentery and left to sea off the Horn of Africa.
Continue reading.
CINNAMON
JEFF FLEISCHER
~
The very rhythm of the word always resurrected Grandfather’s stories.
“Cinnamon.”
It had been a quest for this spice that first enticed his ancestors to the sea, luring a sextet of Dutch brothers from the quiet toil of village life to a perilous existence aboard a ship circumnavigating Europe.
Only four of the boys had lasted the full junket to Ceylon. They lost one of their brethren to a collapsing mainsail in a storm off Gibraltar, and another counted among the two dozen men felled by dysentery and left to sea off the Horn of Africa.
Continue reading.
October 2017
THE TESTAMENT OF PEARL
Charles Leipart
I brought you your moccasins, Mz’sus. I had to take three trains, two buses, and a gypsy cab to get here. I thought you'd be missing your slippers. A chair? Thank you, but no, my leg be just fine when I'm not carryin’ your heavy laundry. But all this cold and rain we be having, been like the devil on my arthritis, and my daughter Bernice's been down sick with the Beijing flu, and there's been no heat in our building since the landlord's been took away.
Did I tell them? Oh, yes, Mz’sus, I told them. But they say not to worry, we be moving out of there tomorrow. But don’t you worry. I told the Committee how good you always been to me. Give me that time off when my leg was so bag and paid my plane fare home to Jamaica when my Mama was so sick. Oh, thank you, Mz’sus. But she be dead. She be with Our Precious Lord now, Mz’sus. She be released from all her earthly miseries. And I told them how good you was when my boy Leroy got so bad shot up at the liquor store. Comin’ to visit in the hospital and Mister Massey gettin’ him a real good lawyer—that nice Jewish fellow, Saul Greenberg. Oh, we be very thankful, mighty thankful for that, Ma'am. You and that nice Mr. Greenberg.
What’s that? How different you been from all those other rich folks I worked for over the years? I’ll have to give that a think. But you're in my prayers, Mz’sus. You and Mister Massey are in my prayers every night and day. You always gave me Thursday afternoons off, and an extra ten dollars at the end of the week, and when you had a dinner party and I had to work late, you always sent me home in a radio taxi—and that's expensive. Mmm, yes. You were good employers, Mister Massey. It was a privilege to be in your service. I don’t mind sayin’ it. Being in your service.
They’re sayin’ you need my testimony as to your good characters. Lordy, I don't know nothing about characters, M'z Massey, but if you want me to do up these dishes for you—it's all right, Mz’sus, I won't drop 'em, it only take me a minute to clean up. Now you just sit down there with Mister Massey on your nice cot, while I do up these dishes and put on some coffee. How many will it be, Ma'am? I'll ask them if they have the de-caff—NO? No coffee? Oh, all right. Trust in the Lord, Mister Massey. Lay your troubles on the sweet bosom of Jesus. Tell them? Speak a little louder, Mister Massey, in my good ear—Un-huh. Un-huh. Oh, is that it then? You need me to tell them how good, how good you’ve always been to my people? My people. I'm sorry, Mister Massey, but I don't think you knows anything about my people.
I believe that's all I got to say in their behalf. Can I go now? I've been on my feet since six this mornin', getting the place ready. It be no trouble, Mz’sus. Bernice and Leroy and the girls and me be moving in, in the morning. They've given us your apartment. With the new baby, space is so hard to find, so I think it's really fine of them to give us your place.
It took me a while to get used to the idea, but now that I think about it, I think they be doing right. By the People. I'll be getting rid of that old walnut breakfront in the dining room, I'm so sick of havin' to polish it. And that ugly Chinese carpet in the foyer has got to go, but like all those nice big L.E.D. TV screens say, THE GREATER GOODS TO THE GREATER NEEDS. And Bernice and Leroy and the girls and me, we got a lot of needs, Mz'sus. Great needs. But don't you worry, the Good Lord provides. Captain, can I go now? I'm dead-tired. My little granddaughter Clorissa's cutting a tooth. She don't sleep right, 'til Grandma gets home.
Oh, you don’t have to give me anything, Mz’sus. The new people in charge say they'll take care of us just fine. Like my new iPad Pro 11 with Wi-Fi plus Cellular and Retina 5K display screen. We all gets a free one. It takes real nice pictures, too. That’s because the pixelation is so high. Hold still now. Oh, that’s a nice one. We’ll put that one in the laundry room. But you're always in my prayers, Mz’sus. And I want you to keep me in yours, too. They’ve order a car to take me home. Givin’ old Pearl the Queenly treatment! I guess this be what it's like when the worm do turn. The Lord loves you, Mz’sus Massey. Here’s a little somethin’ for you. The New Testament, pocket-size. It's always a comfort to me. First Corinthians 15, verses 51 to 53. I marked it for you: "Behold, I show you a mystery! We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible. For this corruption must put on incorruption, and this mortal MUST put on immortality!" Say Amen, somebody.
It makes for good readin’. Especially on the subways. It's a real load off my mind, leaving you both in such good hands. I think they wants to spoil me, Mz’sus, spoil me rotten. Tonight, I think maybe I just close my eyes, put up my bad leg, and dream. Dream all the way home to Crown Heights. 'Night, all—Verse 53, Mz’sus. I marked it for you. "For this corruption must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." A-MEN! A-MEN!!
CHARLES LEIPART was a finalist for the 2017 Tennessee Williams Fiction Prize for "What Wolfman Knew," Tennessee Williams/New Orleans Literary Festival; "What Wolfman Knew" is published in the Summer 2017 issue of the Jabberwock Review; "Tea with the Tin Man," a flash fiction, is published in the quarterly issue 82 of Burningword Literary Journal, July 2017. "Frank & Mia & Me," a flash fiction, is published in issue 7 of Panoply Literary Zine. Charles is a graduate of Northwestern University, a former fellow of the Edward Albee Foundation and a member of the Dramatists Guild. He lives and writes in New York City.
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Chila: What prompted "A Testament of Pearl" & how did you get the tone down so well?
Charles: One of my early survival jobs was as a bartender and waiter to private East Side clients. One of those clients employed a Jamaican woman housekeeper and cook. Evenings, while the guests had their dessert and coffee, Mrs. P. and I would sit in the kitchen and she would tell me about her life and the people she had worked for over the years, including the couple for whom we had just served dinner. From her stories I spun this “Testament” which explores the contrasting values of “Mrs. P.” and her employers. As for the tone, I thank “Mrs. P.” It pays to be a good listener.
Chila: Tell us something you've learned about writing since you started.
Charles: Keep it simple, direct, uncluttered, avoid excessive adjectives and adverbs, and surprise myself. Let the character lead. He or she will take you in unexpected directions. Trust them. Go there. They will astonish you. And hopefully, delight the reader. And one more thing. Tell the truth. It’s the only thing that matters. It is the only thing that will move the reader.
Chila: What do you one day want to write more than anything?
Charles: I don’t know that. What I do know is that I want to continue to explore and bring to life the gallery of characters and situations that dance in my imagination. Anything wonderful that comes of that would be a beautiful accomplishment. It might be a novel, it might be a play, it might be a series of stories. I’m ready to take that trip. Hopefully there will be a reader to join me on that journey.
___
Chila: What prompted "A Testament of Pearl" & how did you get the tone down so well?
Charles: One of my early survival jobs was as a bartender and waiter to private East Side clients. One of those clients employed a Jamaican woman housekeeper and cook. Evenings, while the guests had their dessert and coffee, Mrs. P. and I would sit in the kitchen and she would tell me about her life and the people she had worked for over the years, including the couple for whom we had just served dinner. From her stories I spun this “Testament” which explores the contrasting values of “Mrs. P.” and her employers. As for the tone, I thank “Mrs. P.” It pays to be a good listener.
Chila: Tell us something you've learned about writing since you started.
Charles: Keep it simple, direct, uncluttered, avoid excessive adjectives and adverbs, and surprise myself. Let the character lead. He or she will take you in unexpected directions. Trust them. Go there. They will astonish you. And hopefully, delight the reader. And one more thing. Tell the truth. It’s the only thing that matters. It is the only thing that will move the reader.
Chila: What do you one day want to write more than anything?
Charles: I don’t know that. What I do know is that I want to continue to explore and bring to life the gallery of characters and situations that dance in my imagination. Anything wonderful that comes of that would be a beautiful accomplishment. It might be a novel, it might be a play, it might be a series of stories. I’m ready to take that trip. Hopefully there will be a reader to join me on that journey.
