Joseph Carrabis – Page 48 – Joseph Carrabis, Author Blog

The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 8

Previous entries in this novel:

Enjoy!

The Alibi – Chapter 8

Sean Davitty practiced his free dives at least twice a week wherever he was and daily when on break. He spent a year with the Bajau learning their techniques. He didn’t have their genetic disposition, but he came close – his best dive was ten minutes at two-hundred feet. His teammates shook their heads at him. “You’ve already got all the certifications you need, Sean. You working at being a whale?”

Davitty’s brogue came out clean and crisp. “No, I’ll settle for seal.”

Part of the fun was surfacing where no one expected it. The looks on people’s faces made him laugh.

Today nobody laughed.

Today he parked at the south end of the closed USS Boston memorial, pulled a backpack out of the passenger’s seat, lifted a camera out that, and walked around taking pictures. He hopped the gate and took more pictures until he stood at the water side of memorial. Reaching into his pack agian, he pulled out a blanket, sandwich, thermos, an old and dogeared paperback of The Best of H.P. Lovecraft: Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre, and sat down in the shadow of one of the big guns.

He chewed and read. Once or twice his sipped from his thermos.

He finished the story undistured. No one came by; no sightseers, no lovers, no WWII enthusiasts.

Sure no one watched, Davitty donned his diving suit sans tank, fitted his flippers, donned his mask, and plunged into the water and swam to the bottom. From there the test was to Langone Park. It would be empty today and provided a convenient landmark.

Waterfront construction dominated the waterfront a few hundred feet west. Apartments and condos, none occupied. There might be some people walking dogs, cycling, sightseeing. He’d be careful. Surface just enough to recharge his lungs then down and back.

Coming up along the ocean wall he found a tunnel. Okay, maybe not a tunnel, but definitely something large enough to swim through. Algae lined its walls and gave off phosphorescent light.

Interesting.

Surface.

Charge.

Check his watch. If he hadn’t surfaced by half his limit, turn around, get back.

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Teenage Turkeys at the High School Dance

Remember those high school dances?

When the guys stayed on one side of the gym and the girls stayed on the other with exception of those already paired up?

My high schooling occurred during that turbulent era when many still wanted to be with someone and an equal many were willing to come solo or – god forbid – in same-sex pairs.

Note, not homosexual pairs.

Oh, no, not that.

Not in my little town (with do apologies to Simon&Garfunkel).

Oh, we had them.

I know because I counted some, not all, as my friends.

Jan, for one. A truly beautiful, elegant, long-legged girl who confided she had the best of Rick and he came up a far cry from Judy who attended Memorial.

Good for you, Jan. And for Judy.

It doesn’t bother you?

I laughed and joked. “Not if I can watch.”

She cracked up, as well.

You could get away with things like that back then. Once people knew they could trust you and could be themselves around you.

Boy, how she laughed.

“Intention, Part 1” now on BizCatalyst360

Once again good fortune prevails. BizCatalyst360 is taking my musings on life and sharing them with a larger audience.

In this case, Intention, Part 1, a short piece about doing what one wants to do when one means to do it.

The Alibi (A John Chance Mystery) – Chapter 7

Previous entries in this novel:

Enjoy!

The Alibi – Chapter 7

Leddy sat across from Penny Lane in the Boston Public Library’s Johnson Building. Leddy always thought she and Penny’d look like a tower salt&pepper shakers if Penny could get on her shoulders. Leddy, stocky and dark like her father, Penny thin and fair like her father if he didn’t get to his Bermuda home for a weekend.

Out the window she watched firetrucks and ambulance race towards the waterfront until people crowded around her and blocked the view. She switched her tablet from screen to dVids, a gift from Penny’s father, and guided her drone with a specialized pen she designed inside MIT’s Media Lab as part of the Future Entrepreneurs Club. She couldn’t stop actionable ideas from coming to her. Her advisors wondered if she were adopted. Grad students and professors attempted to copy her designs. Penny’s father, Briggs Lane, Senior Partner at Lane, Cuomo, and Greenberg, told Penny to keep an eye on her and bring any things she came up with to him.

Briggs had Penny and Leddy to lunch at least once a week and probed Leddy about anything Penny brought to his attention, but gently, conversationally, so she wouldn’t catch on.

Leddy thought him a playable fool. He could get her hands on tech even her Media Lab buds knew nothing about and Leddy always let him think something profitable would come of it.

But gently, conversationally, so he wouldn’t catch on.

She tapped Penny’s tablet. “People will see what’s on your screen.”

Penny laughed. “I’m going inside. I’ll be able to sell this, create a bidding war. We’re the first on the scene.”

“You take too many chances.”

Penny kept her tablet active. “You don’t take enough. What are you doing?”

“Watching vehicular and foot traffic.”

“Do you listen to yourself? You sound like your father.”

“You sound like yours.”

“Yeah? How ’bout you give those dVids back. Briggs won’t mind.”

“I’ve never heard you call your father father, dad, pop. He’s always Briggs to you.”

“That’s the way he likes it. Good business practice. He’s grooming me to take over for him when he retires.”

Leddy smiled and nodded. You don’t have the horsepower to takeover for a snail.

Penny nodded with her friend. “See? Even you know it.”

Leddy smiled and nodded again. I’m agreeing with myself, you wanker.

A Glorious Grouping

Once again, Raccoons gather.

We’re always so happy when our little furballs return in the Spring. I’m posting this in Feb ’23 and I recorded it in Mar ’22, just shy of a year ago.

Usually they come out of winter a tad leaner than these stout ladies here.

Leaner and often after a bit of raccoon loving, their bodies not yet swelling with kits waiting to be born.

We watch them bulk, make sure they have protein and fats, a good mix, so their teats will be full to nurse their young.

And then, a month or two later, kits!

But for now, a glorious grouping of garrulous girls.

Enjoy.