I Love A Parade

I stood behind the 8mm Brownie Movie Camera at the 1961 Macy’s Day Parade. My Dad had his finger on the trigger. I squirmed to the front for a better look. Nothin’ more to say–a caption attached to a moment in time and space.

I Love A Parade

River Agosto--Nuchu

Nuchu 

River grabbed a breakfast burrito from the food truck at the downtown outdoor market in Las Cruces. That and a steaming hot Latté pushed Dusty’s demise from her mind. Passionate about shopping she bought clothing, jewelry and art on her expense account. It was easy to stay under her daily allowance if she traded fancy lodging for campsites. She never thought that Dusty would figure it out and come after her as she did. Oh well, water under the bridge, or in this case, Dusty over the canyon wall. She deserved it.

“Buenas dias, señorita” an Indian woman called from under a canopy shade. “Come see these beautiful molas—highest quality—most have four layers and the finest stitching. You could sell them for twice the price on EBay.”

River strolled over to the table and fingered the intricately patterned cloth sections. “These are gorgeous. How much?”

“For you . . . $30. If you buy four, $20 each.”

River rummaged through several piles of paired designs; most cut from previously worn blouses. Authentic molas from traditional garments fetched higher prices. River however doubted she would sell her purchases. These would do nicely framed in her studio—a reminder of her trip and freedom from Dusty’s sabotage.

“Okay, I’ll take these,” she said handing over her company credit card. As the woman swiped the Square, River eyed something else—a small wooden doll that drew her. As she stroked the smooth carved surface, a young super-charged youngster ran up to her.

“Are these from Mexico?” the young girl asked as she pulled on River’s jacket.

“No Panama.” River said. “Stop tugging on me.”

The girl ran off and hoping that she was gone for good, River tossed down another $5.00 in cash and crammed the wooden nachu in the front flap of her day pack.

“Gracias,” the woman said as she turned to help another customer. “Be careful with that, it has a powerful live spirit. You don’t want to piss her off.”

** Another teaser for upcoming novel, “River”. Research involves environmental and political issue of the U.S. Southwest desert. Help me out: Send any pertinent information to– elaine@mediadesign-mds.com

 

River Agosto--Nuchu

River Agosto--All Alone

With the wind and a few distant coyotes as her only company, River pulled the blanket closer. She longed for the touch of a human hand and tried to recall how it felt to be wanted. She had given up on love long ago, but hated to be alone. Men didn’t stick around, but at least they didn’t pummel her like the women in her life.

As a child, River lived in a house where the women hated her. Her Mother resented the chore of motherhood and all she could remember of her sister was her scowl. An alcoholic Father was there in sober times, but lacked the balls to intervene in family drama–hen-pecked into submission.

“So where do I go from here?” she asked the constellations as they moved across the sky. Dusty Cooke’s body would ultimately be discovered by some hiker at the canyon bottom. Could they trace the death to her? Probably—maybe not. Boy did she deserve it and the river, her river, deserved saving. One individuals death was a small price for the lives of many—animals, plants, and yes, even humans.

River stoked the fire and adjusted the pans on the grill. Her favorite meal of macaroni and cheese, steamed in a covered dish. Not as good as baked, but it would do—comfort food after the day she had. She pushed the image of Dusty coming at her and how she stepped aside in time to let her attacker fall to her death. She closed her mind’s eye to forget the scene entirely. Yes, that was the answer—it never happened.

Smiling, River scarfed her dinner, wiped out the pans with water from her cooler and settled into the sleeping bag. Tomorrow she’d go back to town and call her boss. Wrong? Nothing was, or was going to be, wrong.

 

** Another teaser for upcoming novel, “River”. Research involves environmental and political issue of the U.S. Southwest desert. Help me out: Send any pertinent information to– elaine@mediadesign-mds.com

River Agosto--All Alone

Damn It! -- River Agosto

Damn It

“Damn it,” River grumbled as she struggled to push the garment bag back into the overhead compartment. The strong sweaty smell originated with the sloppy, baggy-shorted, millennial boy/man pushing up against her from behind.

“Excuse me, that’s mine,” the  peanut-breathed owner of the baggage said as he came close to breast contact as he pulled at the bag River pushed.

“This may be your bag, but if you don’t move your hand, I’m going to kick you in the nuts.”

Baggy-shorts took a side step and stared. River pushed the next row of coach passengers back into their seats and forced her way two rows ahead. God she hated flying coach. Dusty and Rochelle always flew first class—a privilege of the perpetually overpaid and underworked.

“Welcome to Albuquerque and thank you for flying United,” the flight attendant quipped for the millionth time. River tried to crack a smile as she pushed her way towards the terminal.

She carried on her laptop and a purse the size of Manhattan to avoid baggage fees and the wait at the carousel. Only one person stood at the rental car line when she arrived.

“Oh much better,” River thought as she eyed the rounded derrière of the polished grey suited gentleman before her.

“Next?” the desk clerk commanded. Mr. Grey Suit turned abruptly and River not so accidently let him brush into her.

“Oh I’m sorry, excuse me,” her fantasy mumbled as he headed towards the pick-up area.

River snapped herself back to reality. “Damn it,” she mused as she signed the rental agreement

For the fans of flash fiction. Similar to how pianists warm up on the keyboard, or guitarists pick licks, writers can warm up to their characters with 250 word character snapshots. How do you like (or dislike) River Agosto?

Damn It! -- River Agosto

Lone Wolf--solitary poetry

Lone Wolf

 

A boy looking for a father’s hand to hold—afraid and brave all at once.

Women nurture and turn away.

Unprotected. 

A man spins words into precise configurations of protective strategy

Only to find attack from the side

Or from behind. 

He escapes to a dance with wind blown ice.

Thick fur withstands Mother Nature

who hurts, attacks, and kills.

He salvages comfort, love and money with stories of struggle. A stone retreat. Silent trees sway in the wind and creak with age. 

Look to the sky

—to the birds in flight

that nest together for warmth.

Dull the pain.

Cherish the words alone.

Lone Wolf--solitary poetry

River Agosto Character Creation

WritinGeekery.com http://www.writingeekery.com/ is an excellent resource with plenty of free advice and downloads for writers. One download that I have laminated sits alongside my computer. It is a simple check off list that helps with “The Groundwork of Character Creation”. Here is what I have so far for River Agosto, the protagonist in my novel in progress, with a working title of–River–an environmental thriller:

The Groundwork of Character Creation: (smart, strong, resourceful and romantically foolish)

River fears getting stuck in situations she cannot control which stifle her gregarious tendency to act on her instincts.

Her major flaw is her self-righteousness with no room for compromise.

She secretly betrayed a lover when she was in the military. Her actions went unnoticed. His actions resulted in a dishonorable discharge.

She loves animals way more than people.

River is clever, physically strong, and determined.

She wants money to buy a high desert working ranch.

She loves the high life but feels guilty when she indulges.

Environmental issues drive River above all else.

She regrets her military betrayal and her previous lover will play an antagonistic role.

I recently re-watched the 1967 movie “Cool Hand Luke”. Luke played by Paul Newman gave me a clue to River Augusto’s general statement.  Like Luke she has come to understand governmental protocol and how to survive it–at least temporarily. Luke, of course, was imprisoned, and worked on a Florida road crew. River deals with a similar hierarchy of command that like Luke is against her nature and the movie quote, “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate,” fits the bill.

Stay tuned for more about River Agosto as she develops. I promise a fun ride.

 

 

 

 

 

River Agosto Character Creation

River Agosto -- The Setup

I’ve had a few offers from friends to critique and offer suggestions for my inaugural attempt at a long fictional work. River Agosto is a cocky broad who takes no shit. She has affinity for the bad boys and is regularly screwed by them in traditional and  non-traditional ways–yet she’s magnetically attracted. Her job as an government environmental geologist is a constant annoyance. She bucks the system at every twist and turn, often to her demise. Will she win in the end or be destroyed? So, here’s a quick sketch for the opening paragraphs. I welcome comments, which you can make here, on the contact page, or email me directly at Elaine@mediadesign-mds.com . The payoff for your help? A listing in the credits of the book, movie and/or TV series. 😎

The Setup

River’s fear of attack from behind wouldn’t allow for the use of ear buds to muffle the mindless chatter in the office. In an attempt to control the time wasters, Dusty Cooke and Rochelle Stone regularly circled the area. Their self-imposed deadline for the environmental impact report made River uncomfortable. They had never pushed this hard before. River had the phone signal turned down, but each time it rang, she jumped.

“Something’s wrong here,” Dusty’s voice bellowed from the receiver.

“Wrong?” River said knowing that even if it wasn’t her fault that she would be blamed for anything askew.

“You’ve got to go out to the excavation site tomorrow and check the soil samples. The salt levels can’t be this high. You’ve got to verify that the range is normal, or they’ll never let us finish the canals.”

“I double checked the numbers yesterday and they were accurate,”

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a greenie with this. I bet you sabotaged the data for the sake of saving some tortoises.”

The term greenie was Dusty’s slang for environmentalists and River was tired of the constant ridicule; but before she could let Dusty have it, she felt a tap from behind. It was Rochelle.

“Is that Dusty on the phone?”

“Hold on Dusty, Rochelle’s here,” River quipped and handed Rochelle the receiver.

“Hi darlin’, is there a problem with the construction site? Too much salt?  Well, we’ll tweak the numbers. What? A demonstration? Shit, this better not make the news. We’ve got to send someone who can talk green. Yeah, I guess River is it. I’ll talk to her about the money—she’ll do it. Huh? No worries, I’ll come by your office later.”

Rochelle hit end call. “Okay everyone, we need to have a quick meeting,” she announced to the rest of the cubicle row. “Conference Room C, now.”

Sadie, Jack and Opal filed out of their assigned pods as ordered, down the hall and into Room C without a word. They knew better than to question Rochelle, especially if they ever wanted to see bigger paychecks and private offices. River followed reluctantly.

“Okay everyone, here’s the scoop. As usual, it’s all about water and we have to prove that our canals won’t hurt, but help, the area. I’m sending River to personally take soil samples. Sadie, book her a flight to Albuquerque as soon as you can get her there. She’ll need a four wheel drive truck. Jack, pack her a sample bag and Opal transfer all the files to a laptop.”

The group scurried to their assignments. River glared at Rochelle. “This is kinda sudden, isn’t it? You want me to drop my life and run off on this whim of yours?”

“Look sweetie,” Rochelle started.

“I told you, my name is River.”

 “Okay, River,” Rochelle said softening her tone. “There’s money in this, lots of it and some of it could be yours.”

“How much money?” River also softened.

“You help us tweak a few reports, alter a few numbers and come out squeaky clean for the EPA and I’ll make sure you can move out of that hovel you call an apartment.  How would you feel about Cahuilla Hills? Maybe meet a Palm Desert hunk with a bank account and horses? It could be nice.”

River arrived on a flight from Palm Springs to Albuquerque at 9:00 P.M. Wednesday, November 11, 2015.

 

River Agosto -- The Setup