The victim’s dog was exactly the kind of pet Ben Morgan had wanted as a kid -- smart, funny, eager to please, and equally determined to protect. He’d envisioned a collie like Lassie or a German shepherd like Rin Tin Tin, but Colman’s stout little mutt dog -- some kind of terrier -- guarded his back, barking a warning if anyone got too close.
Colman had introduced Ben and Mooki, and of course, at first Ben thought it was odd that a dog should “speak” only German. While Colman struggled to get the paint off his door, Ben tried to get the dog to walk with him. Colman -- he told Ben to call him Rafe, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it -- did everything he could to get her to go with him. She didn’t necessarily trust him yet, and he didn’t speak German, but he took her leash, and after a few minutes, she marched alongside him, ready to take on all comers, just as she’d done for her master.
Christ, what a mess. Colman’s tools, a bicycle, sports equipment, and a tiny sailboat. All ashes. The firefighters had the blaze out, but they’d drawn a small crowd of curious neighbors who stood on the curb across the street and watched. They didn’t seem friendly with Rafe, and they didn’t offer him any assistance. They stood silent, watchful, some in hastily donned trousers and work shirts and some still in sleepwear, wrapped in dressing gowns and bathrobes. Some were even barefoot, shuffling for a better angle, a better view of the drama as it unfolded.
Ben felt bad for Colman. It was obvious his accent, fair hair, and blue eyes had triggered someone’s anti-German sentiment, and they’d taken the opportunity for payback. He seemed like an ordinary guy too: a little pent up, a little too fastidious and polite.
But maybe he was a little lonely too, and Ben could certainly understand that.
One of the firefighters on scene cracked wise about him living alone, but Ben had known more than one person who didn’t fit in so well, starting with himself. He lived with his mother, for God’s sake. It was hard to believe a guy like Rafe wasn’t batting a thousand with girls. He could have a family if he wanted one. He was probably too busy enjoying the chase to give it up for a wife and kids.
A guy with those looks who loves dogs?
(Note from ZAM -- You'd better believe Ben wanted in on that...)
This is DAY TWO
of the GREAT HOLIDAY ZAMFEST!
All you have to do is comment to enter the daily drawing and I'll pull a new name from the hat each night. The TWELFTH day will be Christmas, that's when I'll put the name of anyone who leaves me a comment on all twelve blogs, into a drawing and one very lucky person will win the grand prize-- a $50 dollar Amazon Gift Card. If you're new to the ZAMfest, it's not too late to go back and comment on earlier blogs. Good Luck!
Yesterday, DAY ONE's winner is LE Franks! I'll be contacting you to see which ebook you'd like!
So come EVERY DAY and comment on all twelve blogs to be entered for the GRAND PRIZE!
Hanukkah started on the eighth this year, and of course I had to buy gelt for the kids to give their friends at school. We don't actually celebrate Hanukkah, I never did, even though my family has Jewish roots. But in some ways, I think we should all celebrate any holiday that focuses our attention on the miracles that surround us daily: love and kindness, the way ordinary people become heroes in extraordinary circumstances, the passion people have for causes, even those not their own, the way people defend the rights of others, and even the miracle of laughter, which BELIEVE ME, I have come to regard as a miracle in this tough year of my life.
If I can laugh even while my house in burning and feel better for it, laughter can be placed squarely in the miracle category. At the end of this month, this year will be over. For good or ill, what was is past, and we get to look forward to growth, happiness, more trials, and maybe, more chances to find our resiliency. I look forward to it all, and through it all, I look forward to writing new books for you!
A single spark
Every breath you take
fans the flames
A single spark
can ignite a conflagration
so we'll never feel the cold again.
Light a candle
help me find a way back home
Light a candle
I'm so tired of being alone
Just a single candle's light
is all I need from you tonight
It's only ever been you
who could see me through.
Light a candle...
( Music and Lyrics by Nigel Gasp.)