Excerpted from North of Grand: Detective Red Shaw Novel #2 Read the book on Kindle or Nook
Shaw tried to remember the last time he’d been on a date. Way back, right after he met Sally. He hoped this one wouldn’t be as awkward. They’d arranged to meet at the west end of a pedestrian bridge over the river, just a short walk from the police station. He could see her approach from a distance, sporting a close-fitting white top and shorts. She was dressed for the heat and hard to miss. Her light brown curls were tied back and topped with a Cubs visor. A Cubs-blue bag hung from her shoulder.
“Hi, Red,” she said as she gave his hand a
little squeeze. “Are you ready for some baseball?”
“You bet” was the best he could do. If her
V-neck were any deeper, he wouldn’t have been able to speak at all. He took in
her smile, her green eyes, and tried to relax. He tried to ignore the sweat
trickling down his back and wished he hadn’t worn blue jeans. They followed the
walkway south along the river.
“I played here once,” Shaw said as they
approached the stadium.
“Well, not here, exactly, but in the old
stadium. Same spot. This is nicer.”
They stopped to buy tickets. Not many
seats were left for a hot summer night and they small-talked as the line crept
Somewhere between 1.37 and 1.79 miles on my post-workday walk* on a treadmill at the gym today a favorite old word came to mind. I was watching CNN on a screen just off to my left – Fox News being a few monitors over to my right, of course – when it happened.
“Toady,” my brain said. I can’t say for sure if this was triggered by the sight of Rick Santorum or Lindsey Graham, but they both appeared on the screen just minutes apart.
Unsure if either of them met the actual definition of the word, I looked it up when I got home. Among other things, I’d decided I absolutely have to use toady correctly in a poem that is beginning to take lumpy shape in my brain.
Speaking of being preserved on the internet (or writing about it as I was on Friday), I stumbled across my old blog, puncture proof, this morning.
It had something to do with bicycle tires and opinions about various stuff.
The last thing I posted there still pointed to a Tumblr blog that I no longer have, so of course I felt compelled to update it to point to the one you’re reading now. This other page caught my eye and took me even farther back in time and memory and I found myself obligated to fix a mistake I made there, too.
I’m supposed to be writing something else at the moment, so I won’t dwell on this for long, but seeing myself in that in-between state left me feeling pretty good about where my wife and I are now. Both of us have had two feet and all of our bicycles in Colorado for quite a while now.