The Story Behind the Story with Allan Hudson of New Brunswick, Canada.

 

This week, I’d like to share the SBTS of my newest book.

 

  

  

I live in Dieppe with my wife Gloria. I began writing in my mid 50s with no intention of stopping. Happily retired, I spend most mornings working on my stories and publishing the Scribbler. The rest of my days are spent with book related projects, time with family and other important issues, such as napping and taking life easy.

 

 

 

Title: One Bedroom Ark

 

Synopsis: Jeb Coyne, proprietor of Coyne’s Confectionary, will have been widowed for two years tomorrow. Tending to his daily business takes his mind off the looming anniversary for a moment, as do his customers, whether cheerful or grumpy. But he’s never felt so alone.

With the workday finished, Jeb is a few minutes from locking the doors. He goes out to bring in the sign board his father made and is interrupted by a tiny voice asking if he is closing.

Olivia Fletcher stands before him, a teenager with wet strands of hair across her cheek, a baby in her arms.

This chance meeting will change both of their lives forever.

 

 

The Story Behind the Story: I’ve always enjoyed stories of seniors helping younger people. Many youths are propelled into society with no means of support, no experience of living on their own. For those that make it, perhaps someone wiser stepped in to help. And so it is with One Bedroom Ark.

This story originated from a short story of the same title published in A Box of Memories. The store owner is from an early memory of a grey haired gentleman tending the cash at his convenience store, one his father started. I recall the head of thick hair but not a face. He’s gone many years ago and the store is a trendy café now.

The other characters showed up when I needed them. I’m particularly fond of Lindy, she’s a sweetheart, flashy and bold. Donnie, one of the delivery men, shows up early mornings with freckles, good cheer and the weather report. The baroness, well, you’ll meet her below. Digger is a regular who says the coffee is terrible but buys an extra-large every morning.

I had fun writing this story. It makes me feel good, reminds me to be kind. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Follow this LINK to purchase your copy.

Thank you.

An Excerpt:

Another customer comes in and he recognizes the top of the hat. It's a wide brimmed thing with black and white circles around the brim, two of each. The center is a black pillbox. It looks like a target to shoot at. Watching it bob back and forth as it climbs the stairs makes him dizzy, and he looks away. Evgenia Baranova. She won't say how old she is, but he guesses over eighty. She continues to walk everywhere. Sometimes takes the bus. It has a stop on the next street over. She was in a cranky mood the last time she was here a couple days ago. Best prepare for the worst he thinks and keeps his chin up. Uses his best line.

"Good morning, Baroness."

The prune like face which peers up at him has the usual paint job by whatever cosmetic artillery she uses. Her sunken cheeks are rosier by an undefined red substance which makes Jeb think of paintings by knife artists. Ooh! A crack in the finish. She likes it when he calls her baroness. She claims she is of noble birth, Russian aristocracy and such, although he's not sure if it's true or not. She appears a bit dotty at times but he humours her. She's one of the few who addresses him with his full name.

"Yes, yes, it is a good morning, Jebidiah. My back is much better today. Thank you for asking. Now, is the paper in yet? Did you save me a copy?"

He bends down to pick one from the top of the heap he's yet to put out. Pretending it's exclusive he whispers as if there's been a run on the newspapers for the last ten minutes he's been open.

"Yes, Baroness. Just for you. Shall I put it in a bag?"

As she speaks to him, her eyes wander to the cork board behind Jeb and the colorful pictures and notes.

"No, no. I'll carry it. Going to visit my good friend, Davida, at Kingston's Nursing Home and we'll read it together. The bus stops right in front. I…"

She pushes her eyeglasses back up and focuses on Avery's photo. She never fails to notices and admire it but she doesn't ever comment. She remembers that it's the anniversary of her passing tomorrow. She speaks before she thinks.

"…I still miss Avery. She was always so kind to me and…"

Jeb turns away. He doesn't want her to see him. He's scared to blink. He feels such a fool. He pulls a Kleenex from a box on the shelf under the cash and dabs his eyes, then blows his nose.

"Excuse me. Must be getting a cold."

"I'm sorry Jeb. Forgive me."

The tight lips scrunch up in a pout and Jeb sees the regret in her eyes.

"I'm fine. It's fine, Evgenia. Nothing to apologize for. I miss her too. Now, that's seventy-five cents as usual, my dear."

Thank you for visiting dear readers.

Feel free to leave a comment. We would love to hear from you.