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Reno Beach was a magical place in the 1920s, 30s, 40s and 50s, a resort town that never really quite reached its prime. It had, however attained great stature in the hearts and ...
Reno Beach was a magical place in the 1920s, 30s, 40s and 50s, a resort town that never really quite reached its prime. It had, however attained great stature in the hearts and minds of all it entertained, especially in the imagination of a young boy who could see adventure, even in the smallest buttonhole or banal blemish. In his mind a vegetable garden became a wilderness plantation. An overturned rowboat became a fortress, a pirate's treasure cave or a magician's maudlin mansion. A willow tree only recently uprooted by the wind and waves of an angry possessive lake trying desperately to reclaim it's own; this became the perfect home for, "Tarzan (Jimmie) of the Apes".
The fact that I'm even writing this book belies the fact that the place and that little boy still live, if only in my imagination.
The stories you're about to read are about that small waterfront community just east of Toledo Ohio on the western end of Lake Erie and how it's life; death and frequent revitalizations affected the life of one small boy, namely me. The stories are absolutely true except as altered by an aging memory, wishful thinking and delusions of grandeur, not necessarily in that order, and they represent some of the very best days of my life. I've been told that it's good to share your very best.
I hope you enjoy reading my stories nearly as much as I enjoyed living them. The writing's been fun too. Some names and places may have been altered to protect the innocent and/or the guilty, but not many. Some may also be changed just because I've forgotten or don't really know what I'm talking about. Please forgive me. Many may recognize themselves, a friend or family member in some of these stories and each one probably deserves whatever treatment or attention they received, either good or bad.
This book is intended to be a "Bathroom Book". This is not a negative. For those unable to grasp this creative terminology I provide the following explanation in the form of a prescription: Take in small doses. Continuous exposure could be hazardous to your health and could lead to an abrasive situation requiring an immediate application of Preparation "H". This does not imply that either you the reader or the writer is full of . Anything. Should you disapprove of any of the material in this book please feel free to remove the offending pages and put them to better use right there in the "Reading Room" solving the problems of the moment. I'm sure you understand.
Enjoy. Life is short. Don't waste it on seriousness.
Posted May 14, 2013
Posted May 12, 2013
Posted May 11, 2013
Posted May 8, 2013
Posted May 8, 2013
WARRIORS *** CRY TO THE STARS
BOOK ONE - AFTER THE WAR
Hollyspark padded towards the freshkill pile, but suddenly halted abruptly in her tracks, black fur bristling.
Standing before her, faint ginger pelt glowing, was a misty, star-flecked ginger tom. Two bright green eyes stared back at her, and the flame-colored tom gestured with his tail to something Hollyspark couldn't quite see. Faint blurrs, but nothing more. The black shecat peered closer, but, suddenly, the orange cat was gone.
Hollyspark looked up in surprise. Her brother, Fatepaw, a gray tabby with orange paws, stood before her, worry in his shining eyes.
"Oh, uh, yah," the black shecat mewed, shaking her head to clear it. She must have been seeing things. There was no way a StarClan cat would have chosen to visit her!!
"Oh," Fatepaw meowed, tilting his head to one side. "You sure? You just seemed... sad. Depressed."
Hollyspark froze, looking her brother in the eye. Hollyspark, Fatepaw, and Stormheart, her other brother, were the children of Cinderheart and Lionblaze. Sometimes the small shecat wondered if Fatepaw had inherited their uncle Jayfeather's fabled power—to read minds—but she quickly pushed the thought aside.
Hollyspark glanced over her shoulder back at Grasspelt and Blossomfall. The light brown tom and the torrtoiseshell shecat sat outside the nursery, grooming each other. The black shecat quickly looked away, and saw that Fatepaw had narrowed his sharp eyes in suspicion.
"You worried about them?" the medicine cat apprentice asked, tilting his head to one side. "I've been. What must StarClan think, Blossomfall choosing a mate from another Clan? And Grasspelt doing the same? But I haven't had any signs, or Jayfeather, to disagree with them. But then again, Jayfeather's mother had a mate in another Clan. And Dovewing."
Fatepaw trailed off, then shrugged. "I suppose I'd better go find that borage Jayfeather wanted. See you around." The gray tabby padded away, flicking his tail-tip over Hollyspark's ear as he trotted away.
A hunting patrol appeared a few moments after her brother left, padding into camp laden with freshkill. In the lead was Hollyspark's former mentor, Ivypool. The silver and white tabby smiled around a mouthful of prey, brushing past the black shecat as she headed for the freshkill pile. Behind Ivypool came her mate, the black and white tom Toadstep. Also on the patrol was Lilypatch, a dark tabby shecat with white patches, and Dovestorm, Bumblestripe's son, who was a large pale gray tom with blue eyes.
Hollyspark followed the patrol, which had joined Rosepetal and Bravepaw at the freshkill pile. Ivypool and Toadstep greeted their son, while Lilypatch grabbed a shrew and lay down beside Hollyspark.
"Hello," she purred, amber eyes shining.
"Hi," the black warrior mewed, gazing off into the distance. She dimly noticed Dovestorm staring at her from the freshkill pile, and quickly glancing away.
"You should talk to him sometime," Lilypatch said, prodding Hollyspark's side with one white paw.
"Who?" the small shecat said blankly, her gaze still fixed on Grasspelt and Blossomfall.
Lilypatch rolled her eyes, angrily taking a bite of her shrew. "Never mind. You're to blind to notice it anyways," the dark tabby muttered.
Hollyspark ignored her friend's stinging comment. Her mind was in a completely different world.