The rest of the time we were on the island was so much fun, especially the day that we went into El Yunque, and I, along with everyone else, got to play in one of the waterfalls.  It was the first time that I’d been in any type of water other than the shower since April, and it felt as good as everything else had felt on the island.

After our return, it took a couple of days to readjust to Alabama’s more temperate weather, but when I did, it was on.  One Saturday morning toward the end of the month, I woke early, showered, and went to work.  I opened the place up as I normally did, and set about making sure that all the books were in the right sections.  Jen eventually arrived with two cups of coffee—one for me and one for her.

“Morning,” she commented as she walked behind the counter.

“Good morning,” I responded in a chipper voice.  She gave me a death stare for a second because of my good mood and then went about doing what it was that she did first thing in the morning.

“So, did you talk to your professor yesterday?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I responded to my boss as she walked over to me.

“What did she think of your idea?”

“I think she was a little skeptical, but she said that she would consider it.  She wants me to send her a story plan by the end of next week,” I answered.

“Okay.  Then we’d better get on it!” Jen insisted as she waved for me to follow her back behind the counter.  She grabbed a few pieces of paper, and set them in front of me.  “Okay.  So, what’s the title of this bitch?”

“Jen.  I can wait a little while…” I started.

“No.  You can’t.  It’s gonna take you all week to get this done, so you’d better get started.  You’re not going to give her any reason to doubt the idea.”

“Okay…” I agreed, reluctantly seeing her logic at last.

“So, what’s the title?”

“I was thinking…”

“Don’t think.  Come up with a working title.  You can change it later.”

“Okay... Angels and Bad Men,” I answered.

“Write it down,” she instructed.

“Yes, ma’am,” I complied.

“Now.  Who is your main character?”

“Me.”

“Ryan,” she looked at me skeptically.  “This is your chance to create the perfect character.  Do you really want him to be just like you?”

“No.  First,” I started as I shook my head, “I want him to be a normal height.”

“Don’t tell me.  Write that shit down!” she said as she pointed toward the paper.  Jen was right, though.  This was my chance to fashion an image of myself that I’d always wanted to create.  For my entire life, I’d always felt freakishly tall.  To that end, my main character, David, was going to be relatively normal.  Sure, he was still going to be athletic, but he wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.  I wanted David to be smart, witty, creative, hard working, lacking all the imperfections that I had.  Some details would be the same; he was going to be a Pisces.  He would still be half-Latin and half-white.  Giving my character a mixed heritage would be one source of his strength, just as it is a source of my own.  He would have brown hair and radiant eyes, though I wasn’t completely sure whether or not he would have eyes that were quite as blue as mine.  In the book, I needed to address my own drug use, but I was thinking of having him get drunk every night instead of having to be high all the time, as I had been.

I then moved on to the other central characters in the book.  Parker’s character would be smartass-ish and really cool.  Justin’s character would be at a point in his life when things were changing for him, for the better.  The parents would still be goofy and quirky, marching to the beats of their own little drummers.  Laura would be as hot as she was in real life; Heidi and Chloe would be as precious in the book as their non-fiction counterparts.  I consciously thought about how each of these characters would be as important in my story as they were in my own world.

All of my friends would be represented in the book as well—Armando and Noelle would be the coolest characters; their partners would be fabulous.  I decided that Matt, the man who’d found me on the pavement, would be not only the lover of fine cigars, but also the lover of fine women.  Jen would have a great part in the book, as a woman with the nicest rack in the little town where it all would be set.  To sweeten the pot, Dr. Lekkas would have a character that had been transformed from the more-than-amazing Greek woman that she was into a statuesque Cubana who commanded every single room that she entered.  I wanted to create characters for each of my cousins on both sides of the family.  Some of them would have the same names, some of them wouldn’t.  There was even a point in that brainstorming period that I thought about creating a character for Tío Don Juan Antonio.  Even the owner of virtually the only bank in town, Donna Charles-Owens, would have a character, as she’d helped me a couple of times when I accidentally overdrawn my bank account.  This book would be as much a ‘thank you’ for them, for all that they had done for me, as it was a chance for me to purge excess emotions from the core of my being.

I worked feverishly for a couple of hours.  Customers came and went, and Jen took care of them all.  When I noticed the time, and that Jen had been doing all the work, she assured me that it was worth it.  “One day,” she said, “I’m going to put a copy of your books in that front window so that the entire world knows that I’m very, very honored to call you my friend.”  It was at that point that I thought about how Jen needed in my book to have an awesomely hot woman in her life, a woman that made her happy beyond her wildest dreams.

As my hand started to cramp, I decided to stop for a little while and take care of some menial tasks.  I cleaned out Jen’s coffee pot; I cleaned the bathroom that only she and her one employee (me) used.  I walked down the street to Laura’s Deli and grabbed sandwiches and sodas for lunch.

After I ate, though, it was back to the grind.  Since I’d tentatively finished with the characters, Jen had me work on settings.  Of course there would be a trip to Puerto Rico involved, but I decided Tuscaloosa might not be the best place to set it.  I decided to use the place that, in Tuscaloosa, we called ‘the other town.’  Auburn, Alabama, would be a better setting.  It was home to Auburn University, whose mascot was a tiger, a much less menacing mascot than a giant elephant and a massive Crimson Tide.

Oneonta was another thing, though.  I couldn’t set the story in Oneonta.  What would people think?  To that end, I created the fictional town of Paradise, Alabama, for the book.  It would be like Oneonta, with all its local drama and intrigue, but it wouldn’t be as clique-ish as Oneonta actually was, is, and will always be.

By the time I finished with that part, Jen was ready to close the store.  Literally that entire day, I’d worked on the plan for the book.  Jen, though, wouldn’t let me take any of it home.  Instead, she told me to put it all in an envelope and seal it.  She said that when I finished with the entire plan for the book, I could take out all my plans, put it all together, and then go back to it.  As I drove home, I couldn’t help but think about the book.  There were so many ideas swirling around in my head that I couldn’t make heads of tails of it all, honestly.

The next day, the family went to Grandmama and Granddaddy’s house for a celebration of the birth of Parker Ángel Collins.  It was his 29th birthday, and Justin and I were quick to rag him about the fact that, in the next year, he’d officially pass from strikingly youthful into decrepit age.  Of course, everyone ganged up on us, citing that they would remind me of that when my time came.  Aunt Lilly, Dad’s youngest sister, was the most vocal about all of that.  At 40, she was tied with Titi Lourdes and Aunt Debra in the ‘coolest aunt’ category.  Noelle and Efran defended the two of us, however, as we all sat around Grandmama’s living room and partook in one of the best Sunday dinners we’d ever had.  Val and Steve just sat back and, as coolly as they always did, observed the goings on and snickered among themselves.

After dessert, the whole family went into the living room to watch the Braves play whoever it was they played on that relatively balmy Sunday afternoon.  Heidi, Chloe, and Victoria, Val’s daughter, all at one point thought that it would be cool to jump on RyRy.  Of course, I was obligated to pretend as though I were hurt for a second and try to wrestle them off me.  In the end, though, three little girls won the match, defeating the mighty swimmer.

Monday morning, I woke up early and headed to The Gym.  In my world, things seemed to be generically named, but there truly was nothing generic about that place.  That morning, I was proud because I’d been able to do six laps in the pool.  It was a feat that I didn’t normally accomplish, so I took a moment to enjoy the sense of pride that I had in myself.

When I got to work, there was a note left for me on the cash register informing me that I was to start working on the plan for the book once more.  My assignment was to tentatively nail down the plot; so, on the paper, I simply wrote that the story would be about me, what had happened, and how I ended up on the road to recovery.  I wrote that I wanted it not to have a plot, per se, but rather to be an accounting of my life over those few months.

I was taken out of my virtual trance-like state by the sound of the phone ringing.  “Baur Books,” I answered the phone.

“Hey.  Something’s come up, and I’m gonna be a little later than usual,” Jen commented.  “Think you can handle things until I get there?”

“I’m sure I can.  Nobody’s come in since I opened.”

“Okay.  Good.  Are you working on the plan?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Yeah.  ’Cause I talked to Patrice last night. I was telling her how hard you were working on the stuff this weekend, and she is excited to see the plan for it.”

“Patrice? As in Dr. Patrice Lekkas?” I asked.

“Yes.  You didn’t know that I knew her?” she asked, surprised.

“No.  One would think that, in as many times as I’ve mentioned her, you would have said something.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.  I could hear the cheesing grin on her face.  “She and I went to undergrad at Georgetown together.”

“I had no idea…”

“I find that it works well that way when my employees don’t know shit!”

I laughed at my boss and her smart ass attitude.  We said our goodbyes after that and I continued my work.  I planned out how the chapters would go, but I found trouble working past a certain point.  I half-assed the last couple of chapters until I came up with something that resembled a logical conclusion.  Unlike the way I felt about how things in my day-to-day life, I wanted everything in the book to end neatly.  At six, when Jen normally closed the shop, I sealed the plan neatly in another envelope and placed it with the other.  I wouldn’t worry about anything until tomorrow, for the next day I’d try to make sure that everything worked together.

When I got home, Mom and Dad were gone, but there was a different car there, a blue car that I recognized right away.  As I walked in, Justin and Carter were sitting on the couch.  Both of them looked exhausted.

“Hey, Ry,” Justin said as he turned his head to see me walk in.  Carter barely acknowledged that I was there and gave me but a quick smile.  Since our return from Puerto Rico and Justin’s coming out, Carter had become somewhat of a staple at the house, as they fought to spend every possible moment together.  It was so cute that it was almost sickening.

“My God!  Y’all look like ass,” I observed flatly.

“Thank you.  That’s a compliment right now, actually,” Carter inserted into the conversation.

“What happened?”

“Our new coach,” Justin answered.  “I swear that woman is crazy!  She had us working our asses off today.”

“Yeah.  We were all expecting an easy day and shit, but no.  There was no introduction, no nothing,” Carter explained.  “She just came in and had us start running.  She said we could stop when she told us.”

“Yeah.  Well, she left, went to have breakfast, get some coffee, all kinds of shit,” Justin added.  “And we stopped running when she got back.”

“And with no warning, she broke us into teams and had us start working on skills and stuff.”

“Then we ran again for another two hours right at the end of practice.”

“And Mike was late this morning.”
“Poor guy,” Justin said.

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” the two said as they continued to veg in front of the TV.

I went into the kitchen, grabbed something to eat, then went into my room to watch something other than what they were watching.  When I took my trash back through the living room, they were both asleep on the sofa with Justin’s head resting on Carter’s shoulder.

Mom and Dad got home a little while later, quietly entering the house at the sight of my younger brother and his boyfriend sleeping.  They went up to bed shortly; I went to sleep in my room a little after ten that night.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of Justin yelling in the living room.  I looked over to see that it was five minutes after eight, and I knew that they were late for practice.  Given the rate at which they were scurrying around, this new coach of theirs had put the fear of God into them by making an example of poor Mike the previous morning.

I got up and got dressed in ‘gym-appropriate attire’ and took my happy little ass to the gym before work.  I had a goal set for myself that morning to swim at least seven laps around the pool.  I figured I wouldn’t make it, but I had to go for it at least.

Once I was there, though, I realized that I was getting tired toward the end of the sixth lap, so it was a no-brainer.  I needed to stop.  I pulled myself out of the pool and went quickly into the locker room and showers.  I went through the motions, realizing that I was about to be late for work.  To that end, I quickly dressed and escaped to Baur Books to start the day.  By the time I arrived, Jen was already there looking over the papers that I’d sealed in the envelope.

“I looked over this plan.  It’s good, but there are ways you can improve it.”

“Okay?” I asked curiously as I walked behind the counter and looked over her shoulder.

“Like here,” she said.  “You’ve got too much time devoted to the event itself.  Scale that back a little bit.  Give readers just what they need to know to keep them interested.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Now.  Redo it,” she said as she walked away and left me to my devices as she fixed herself a pot of coffee.

“So, what kept you from coming in yesterday?” I jested.

“Get to work!” she fired back.  I smiled; she had that ‘I got laid’ tone in her voice. She wasn’t the kind of woman that kissed, then told.

Around lunch time, the bell on the front of the door rang.  Into the place walked Ms. Owens, the lady who owned the bank where everyone in Oneonta kept their accounts.

“Ms. Owens!” Jennifer greeted.

“How are you, Ms. Baur?” Donna, as I called this powerful woman in my mind, inquired.

“I’m well.  And you?”

“I’m great!”

“So, what brings you by today?”  Jen asked in a tone that was professional, but very, very flirty.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to go to lunch… to discuss your loan application.”

“I’d love to!  I mean, that would be acceptable,” Jen said.  I, of course, giggled.  “Ryan.  You’re on your own till I get back.  Think you can handle it and still work on your plan?”

“I think I can,” I said.

“Oh, what are you working on?” Ms. Owens asked.

“I’m working on my Masters’ thesis,” I said.

“Oh!”

“It’s going to be a great book.  It will be one that this whole town will be proud of,” Jen said as she looked at me.

“I look forward to reading it,” Donna said as she and Jen went out to lunch.

I worked for the next few hours while they were gone trying to figure out just how to make it work.  By six, they still hadn’t returned to the store.  Rather than sealing up the plan, however, I took it with me as I locked up the store and left.  At home, as Justin and Carter complained of being in pain, I sat in the kitchen with papers everywhere and worked away.

Mom talked to me for a moment about something, but then I was left again to my thoughts, to my plans.  I stayed up half the night working on them, but I eventually found a solution that would best work for me.

The next morning I showed it to Jen, who approved.  I emailed it to Dr. Lekkas, two days ahead of schedule.  Her approval of the plan was what I needed to proceed with the story, the grand chain of events that had been my life over these past months. I could scarcely wait to hear what she had to say about what I had written.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/27/12