Images & Reflections Sample Short Story from the PALO ALTO WRITERS 1996 ANTHOLOGY COPYRIGHT 1996 BY THE PALO ALTO WRITERS Second Edition Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Palo Alto Writers Palo Alto Writers 1996 Anthology 1.Writing. I. Palo Alto Writers II. Title.Images & Reflections ISBN 1-57555-36-9 (soft cover edition) ISBN 1-57555- 37-7 (electronic Book-On-Disk edition) All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing by the author(s) or representative(s). Requests for such permissions should be addressed to: Palo Alto Writers, 1520 Sand Hill Rd. #406, Palo Alto CA 94304-2039. Manufactured by CEDAR BAY PRESS L.L.C. in the United Federation of the Takelman-Kalapuyan Released January 1996 PALO ALTO WRITERS 1996 ANTHOLOGY 116 PAGES 8.5” X 11” comb bound $12.95 + $1.00 shipping Cedar Bay Press LLC Box 751 Beaverton OR 97075-0751 Table Of Contents The Road Less Traveled by Eleanor K. Prager Tablemates by Kate Kellogg Remnants of the Past by Myrtle Carey Tuesday Afternoons at Bubbie’s Dining Room Table by Carol K. Rainwater Holidays in Helvetia by Kendall Moll The Day I Lost My Faith by Louise Burton The Fire Boats by Kay Weis The New Year’s Eve Party by Mary Kate Spencer Rain Drops at Dawn by Shepard A. Insel Family Secrets by Inge Golovin Half Chinese, Half Irish by Leah Brooks McDonough The Tree Left Standing by Vicky Kelly Serendipity by Estelle Schultz The Patrol by Walter Winterburn The Player’s Party by Charles Shoens Doing Something by Joanne Pasotti Night on Ben Lomond by Jerry Lundquist Josie’s Shooting Stars by Dolores Stevens The Boar Hunt by Estelle Schultz Hang Loose by June Swan Too Much Togetherness by Anne W. Busterud Earthquake Talk by Hans J. Schmidt Trivializing Ezra by Don Volkman The Baths at Atami by Kay Weis Christmas is Coming by Helga Hardy Home Sharing by Kathleen Chamberlain Two Days of Surprises by Anne Marie Waller Darly the defiant by Dan Meyerson The Writers (Biography) Images & Reflections Sample Short Story from the PALO ALTO WRITERS 1996 ANTHOLOGY COPYRIGHT 1996 BY THE PALO ALTO WRITERS Serendipity by Estelle Schultz On that blustery December day of 1944, Helena Winzer, dressed in a black karakul coat, colorful scarf, cloche, gloves and fur-lined boots, stood transfixed outside the antique shop in which two dust-laden carved chairs--one nestled inside the arms of the other--were displayed in the window. She had noticed them before while passing by. Having given it some thought, she decided to make inquiries as to their authenticity. Mr. Sklar, the proprietor, was aware of her acuity from previous purchases she had made throughout the years. He recalled when she had rummaged through and dug out from among the stacks of worthless and genuine antiques, a rose quartz candy dish. It was not an original Roman piece but an exact copy for which she paid him, after much haggling, one dollar. Alerted by the doorbell, the stooped, bearded owner greeted his customer. "Mrs. Winzer, what may I do for you on this bitter cold day?" "How much are those two Chippendale chairs. . .? If the price is right, I'll buy them...May I see them close up?" He climbed into the window, pulled out a soiled cloth from the pocket of his leather apron, lightly dusted the chairs and set them in front of her. He tugged at his beard and scratched his head while deciding what price to ask. "That'll be...uhm...err...fifty dollars--a bargain for you." "Not so fast, Mr. Sklar...I haven't had a chance to examine them yet; she turned them upside down to test the carved legs, frames and armrests. "Did you know there are loose carvings and two of the legs are detached from the grooves?" She pondered a moment. "Considering the condition they're in, I'll give you five dollars for both...To repair and re-cover them will be costly." "Okay. . . " He sighed resignedly. "You win." After handing him his money, she asked, "Could you possibly deliver them tomorrow...? Meanwhile, I'll buy the material and other necessary items." "I'll drop them off on my way to the shop...Are you gonna fix them by yourself?" "Sure, it's my hobby since Mr. Winzer and I are alone...Our sons are in the service and our daughter is married...There's very little to keep me busy." The following morning, Mrs. Winzer directed Mr. Sklar to the basement where he placed the chairs. She thanked him and as he was leaving, he said, "It's begun to snow...Good day to stay indoors." Except for the occasional roar of the furnace, stillness prevailed while Helena, with a damp cloth, wiped off the wood on the surface and between the crevices, further revealing the British crown on the backs of both chairs. She pried off the rusty nail heads, tore off the ravelled peau-de-soie and ripped out the moldy, shredded stuffing. A folded partially-torn paper, yellow with age, fell at her feet. She picked it up and carefully spread it out on the table. Helena reached for her reading glasses to decipher the fading calligraphy. Switching on all the lights, she sat down and slowly read aloud. Embossed on the letterhead was the British Crown. Underneath was handwritten: Buckingham Palace LONDON, ENGLAND February, 1862 I am parting with my treasured Chippendale chairs, weddinq gifts designed especially for my beloved Albert and me. Since God has taken him, I cannot, in all honesty have his armchair facing me. Moreover, I do not want to see anyone else occupy it- -not even Benjamin Disraeli, whom I admire and respect. For the reasons so stated, I have given them to my faithful servant, Glyneth, Lady-in- Waiting who is unaware of this note I placed inside one of them. May they bring you love and comfort. Respectfully, HRH ALEXANDRINA VICTORIA QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN Although some of the words were blurred, Helena managed to fill in the gaps. Proud of her purchase, she was anxious to tell her husband about her serendipitous find. With ruler in hand, she measured the seat frames, unfolded the silk damask on the table and cut and hemmed it according to size. Having cleaned the mahogony chairs, Helena applied Old English polish until the wood shone. She stapled buckrum to the slats underneath the seats and proceeded to stuff them with wool. Lastly, she connected the material to the frame with new brass tacks. By six o' clock, she stood back to admire her work. At that moment, she heard her husband drive into the garage, and she said to herself, I forgot to make dinner. Throwing off her smock, she ran upstairs to greet him. Instead of giving her his usual peck on her cheek, he held her at arms-length and asked, "What have you been up to? Phew! You smell of mildew and your face is smudged...Don't tell me you've bought another antique!" As he hung up his hat and coat, he added, "You didn't even take in the mail! Here are two letters from the 'front'." Helena hastily ripped open the envelops and together read the censored letters. With the back of her hand, she brushed away a tear. "Thank God they're alive and well...Maybe by next Christmas, the war will be over." "Let's pray that it will be...Now let me see what kept you so busy all day." While in the basement, Helena showed him the chairs. "More important is the letter I found in one of them." Carefully, she handed it to her husband. "I'd like to frame it before it crumbles." He read it and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand and said, "I can't believe this is genuine, but let's give it the benefit of the doubt...If we're lucky, we could get a fortune if Christie's or Parke-Bernat would auction it." That sounds great, but you haven't told me what you think of the chairs...You should have seen them before...Let's carry them upstairs, now...Of course, the armchair belongs to you." Pausing briefly, he embraced his wife of thirty years and kissed her with a tenderness he hadn't shown or felt of late. Helena responded to his sudden fervor. "Honey, you outdid yourself this time...We'll celebrate with a martini...Dinner can wait." With Victoria's chairs in place, Helena and her husband sat opposite each other. He raised his glass and winked, "Here's to you, your highness." # # # ---------------------------------------------------------- Cedar Bay Press, L.L.C.: http://www.teleport.com/~cedarbay/index.html About Cedar Bay Press, L.L.C. . . . 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