 Scene One – HELP – Merrimac, Wisconsin, yesterday.
“Pull your car into the empty space next to the green Ford.” He waves his sun-tanned arm to the left of my Oldsmobile Delta 88 toward the last open space on the car ferry. I drive my Olds over the ramp, onto the ferry, and await departure. He shakes his head and walks to my car door. “Nope, please stay in your car. Leave the car in neutral and we will line you up correctly. My name is Bill.” He offers his hand.
0 Comments
 Scene One – PERSISTENT – Pine View Lodge, Hayward, Wisconsin, July 1964
“Bobby, I’m glad you showed up.” Sally’s eyes meet mine. “You are persistent, I’ll say. I wish Butch had paid more attention to me.” “Ah–” I lift my gaze to Sally’s. “I mean, when you didn’t call back last month, I decided to drive up. Fishing season is over, but I wanted to see if I could find you at the lodge.” “So, you did.” She sips her coffee. “I owe you an apology for not answering your calls. I wasn’t ready to talk with anyone. Butch had just left me–”  I’ve always been an average golfer. As a teenager I learned the game with my father’s hand-me-down clubs. Dad decided to get some left-handed sticks, as he called them, so he gifted me his right-handed, Ben Hogan woods and Sammy Snead irons. A southpaw in most areas of his life, he may have thought that right-handed golf clubs were the reason for his poor performance on the links.
 1 – ONE LITTLE PROBLEM – Cobblestone Investment Trust, Chicago, Illinois, October 1993
“Bobby, I’m prepared to offer you the position of Director of Real Estate Investments, but there’s one little problem.” He leans forward, elbows on a Herman Miller executive desk, dips his head, and looks at me over the top of his reading glasses.  Scene One – PROMISES – Bobby’s kitchen, Mequon, Wisconsin, June 1950
“Dad, are we going fishing this weekend?” “I don’t know, Bobby. I have to mow the lawn and change oil in the Oldsmobile.” “Frank, you said the same thing to the kid last week.” Uncle Larry reaches for the coffee pot and refills his cup. “I’d like to go fishing, too, and it's already a month past opening weekend. Pretty soon the weather will be too hot and fish won’t bite.” |
About the Author
Richard Wilberg writes fiction, creative non-fiction, self-help, and career counseling articles. He lives in Madison, Wisconsin.
Archives
October 2021
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed