Part Four
A Novel with No Title (as yet)
A work in progress
Parts 1–2–3-5 are linked below.
Joseph stood around, looking down at his sandaled feet, kicking at clumps of grass, waiting for the stranger to finish taking photos. The silence was breached only by the camera’s motor-action and the clamor of inquisitive gulls. Another minute or two went by. Joseph watched as the sea fog scurried in and absorbed the coastline.
Katherine, for once not totally focused on an object through her lens, observed Joseph out of the corner of her eye. She felt he wasn’t a man who liked to be kept waiting, and it warmed her inside to see him dangling, this time with his manhood not caught in a zipper.
Sensing his frustration, she asked, “How long have you lived here?” Motioning the camera directly at him.
That unnerved him. “Maybe I’m in the way here,” he responded, already turning away.
Feeling his discomfort, she let the question float. Which wasn’t a wise move, as Joseph was already meandering back toward the house when Katherine caught up with him.
“It must be hard to leave this place, it’s so beautiful,” she said, turning in circles, her arms outstretched with enthusiasm and inspiration.
“Yes. So…?” Joseph asked.
“So…?” She queried, not understanding.
“So — which way is your car?” He asked.
“Oh, of course, sorry, yes, that way,” and she raised her arm in the direction.
“Okay, wait here. I’ll fetch my truck, and we’ll look. If it’s not a simple fix, I’ll drive you into town.”
Three or four minutes later, Joseph returned, driving his truck. Katherine hesitated to get in.
“Shouldn’t I know your name before I get into your truck?”
Joseph grinned and looked around. “It’s not like you have several choices, but my name is Joseph, never Joe,” he said, his groin still a little prickly.
Katherine climbed in.
“How long did you say you’ve lived here?” Katherine asked, her eyes scanning the changing scenery.
“I didn’t. How far did you say you walked?”
“I didn’t. Let’s see… maybe half a mile.”
Joseph looked at her flimsy, fashionable footwear. “Must have been hard in those shoes.”
“I was hardly expecting to walk.” She replied, looking down at her feet and wagging her toes.
“I don’t think little feet in expensive shoes ever walk very far; certainly not over this kind of terrain.”
“Is that so? And is that a masculine point of view?”
“Nope, merely an observation.”
Katherine had a different point of view. “Well, It’s my observation that a man who zips his manhood up in his jeans is not taking enough care and will walk weirdly with or without his shoes; doesn’t mean he walks that way all the time.”
Joseph grinned. “Touché!”
Katherine felt distanced, irked by his ego, yet considered him benevolently, strong, with good-looking features — too good-looking, she thought. He has intelligent blue eyes, soft and deep, with wheat-textured hair worn scruffy over the collar of his crumpled shirt. Such a man, she knows, does not walk alone in the world.
“Where are you headed, Katherine?”
“I’m on my way to take shots of the California coastline,” she said, not giving away her mission.
“From where?”
“New York,” she answered, competing in curtness and non-information. “I’m booked into a Mendocino hotel for the night. I’m sure they are already alerted to me not being there yet,” she said, letting him know she was expected.
“We should see your car any time now,” Joseph said.
“Yes, I recall this bend, I’m sure it’s…oh, there, the blue Dodge,” She calls out, pointing.
Joseph nearly choked on held-in laughter. “You’re sure…blue? we don’t want to be fixing someone else’s car.”
“Very funny,” and she grins derisively, before opening the door and leaping out.
“I’ll release the hood,” She yelled.
“Turn the key. Let’s see if there’s any sign of life.”
Katherine tugged the lever to release the hood and turned the ignition key. The engine backfired, scattering ravens from a cluster of coastal pines.
“Well, I’d say the problem is terminal. The local garage will tow it for you. Do you have luggage in there?”
“In the back, a suitcase and a several cameras.”
“Do you need help with those,” Joseph asked.
“I’m fine. Women with little feet have been known to lift great weight, a scientific fact.”
Joseph had been put in his place, and he knew it.
Katherine heaved the huge case into the back of the truck. Joseph watched with a degree of satisfaction. “Not too heavy, is it?”
“Not at all,” and then whispered to herself, asshole.
On the ride into town, the air was still a little chilly. “You’re British, right?” Katherine asked.
“Yes. Raised in Scotland.”
“Scotland! Really? I know it well,” she said. “That’s Edinburgh, right?” Her tone was heaped with sarcasm.
“And Glasgow,” he checked back, tasting her returned disdain. “So, tell me what your experience is of Scotland.”
“Well…” and she pondered momentarily, “…ascending The Clisham had to be the cruelest. It was clear when I arrived, the views were extensive, with most of the island’s archipelago visible, and the stacks of St. Kilda away on the western horizon. I remember, later, the bitter cold. My God, it snapped at my ears. I started outside Tarbert, close to Loch na Ciste. The slopes of wiry heather giving way to the rockier cap, guarded on the east by decaying crag and scree. Then of course there were the views from Mullach an Langa overlooking the Loch Langavat, and the mosaic lochans in the moorland stretching as far as Lewis. But of course, there are many places, and yet, many more to see. And you? What part of Scotland do you love?”
Joseph had again been put to the test and lost. “What’s the name of your hotel?”
“The Brewery Gulch Inn, do you know it?”
“A little, the guy who owns it is called Brian.”
“Yes, Brian Berg. I booked it with him. The hotel has ocean views. Is he a friend?”
“Used to be,” Joseph muttered quietly enough not to be understood, remembering the brawl he had last night. “Good, he’ll look after you,” he said louder.
Ten minutes later, Joseph brought the truck to a halt outside the hotel entrance.
“Over there,” he said, lowering the window, pointing to a small car repair shop. “Jimmy’ll tow your car and fix it up.”
“I appreciate what you’ve done for me,” she said, opening the door, pausing, and turning to face him.
“Can I buy you a drink this evening?”
Joseph ignores the question.
“Do you need help with your bags?”
“Like I said, I can manage,” and she pushed the door closed.
After lugging the suitcase from the back of the truck, she slammed the tailgate shut.
Joseph drove away.
“Maybe some other time…” Katherine murmured, standing in the dust kicked up by the truck’s tires.
Adrienne Beaumont, Alan (AJ) Autistic Widower, Brett Jenae Tomlin, The Sturg, Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles, Trisha Faye, Karen Schwartz, Nancy Oglesby, Katie Michaelson, Bernie Pullen, Michelle Jimerson Morris, Amy, Julia A. Keirns, Pamela Oglesby, Tina, Pat Romito LaPointe, Ruby Noir 😈, Brandon Ellrich, Misty Rae, Karen Hoffman, Deb Palmer, Susie Winfield, Vincent Pisano, Marlene Samuels, Ray Day, Randy Pulley, Michael Rhodes, Lu Skerdoo, Pluto Wolnosci 🟣, Paula Shablo, Bruce Coulter, Ellen Baker, Kelley Murphy, Leigh-Anne Dennison, Jennifer Marla Pike, Carmen Ballesteros, Patricia Timmermans, Keeley Schroder, Jan Sebastian 🖐👩🦰, James Michael Wilkinson, Whye Waite, John Hansen, Trudy Van Buskirk
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Thanks for reading.
