A hot August afternoon – on the porch drowsy from the heat after a long morning in the barn, I'm stretched out in my chair with Mocha in my lap. A copper Harley Screaming Eagle pulls up to my driveway.
Ah crap, there goes the day.
He walks up to the porch, and let's himself in. The dogs cluster around – sniffing but not barking.
Predictably he doesn't sit, but paces the porch like a caged lion. He lights a cigarette by striking a barnburner on his pant leg. Men should not wear pants that tight. It just isn't right.
He's wearing his cut – a tattered denim vest – it has patches all over it. Some are "In Memory of" patches. The rocker under a golden eagle says "Jesus hates pussies."
He's got a copper tan, sun-bleached hair and needs a shave. His eyes are blue, and he's got that mature strength that comes from long years of hard living. The view is worth the hassle he's about to give me.
"What's on you mind, Leo?"
"You need to get a move on." The level gaze he gives me would be threatening, if I didn't know him.
"I'm in the middle of a re-write. Then there's 'Swallow the Moon' to finish."
"Forget them, Van's a freak and Eric's a puss."
I didn't need Van or Eric showing up, taking exception for the insult. I'd have to explain this to the neighbors. How do you do that when they are all figments of your imagination? I'd never get any writing done if I end up in a 'love-me' jacket.
Leo takes a drag off his smoke and leans on the porch rail. Did I mention that he's wearing nothing under his cut? Or the tattoos? "Besides, you hate paranormal."
"Just vampires." I grin at him. "The plot isn't finished. I've got half a plot. Can't go on with just that."
"Sure you can. You've written a bunch of books, never outlined jack before."
"They all sucked." I reminded him. He thinks he has the upper hand does he? "You want to be trapped on the hard drive forever?"
"No," Leo the lazy tomcat, with his red beard and his aquamarine eyes, gave me a come-and-get-girl grin. "I want to thrill a hundred thousand honeys."
I laughed, he's a charming cad – he might just do it.
"Look, Leo. There are only so many hours in a day. You are going to have to wait your turn. I'm planning a big push for NanoWritMo."
He swore. The dogs started barking, my husband was home. When I turned back Leo was gone.
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A Very Old Memory
After school at West Junior High I took the bus to West 5th Street. I checked in at the Leeward, where Opal was working behind the bar, ta...
4 comments:
Love Leo, Kitty! Let's meet some more of your "friends"!
xxCynthia
Glad to see that someone else has this...um...problem? I second the call for more friends!
It's fun when they turn up and help you with sticky plot points. I've found that once the story is finished they stop visiting, unless I write a sequel. Would a non-writer 'get' this?
[The word verification for this comment is...well, it's actually something I'm embarrassed to type here!]
Ahh, Kitty Kat you are a sly one. You were having as much fun for yourself as anyone else with that snippet.
One thing, though, Leo (I hate that name given I have nasty real-world associations with that name, sorry; at least your char's nothing like the Leo I think of!) seems a heck of a lot more like a cowboy than a military guy. Which were you intending again? :) And did you crunch out 50k over Nov 2010 on this or work on something else?
Leo is a biker - he needs a knee replacement and is 'bookshelved' at the Warrior's Transition Unit. He's from upper Michigan - been in the Army (CID) all his life and knows nothing else.
Poor guy is still waiting.
Real Life kicked my feet out from under me last year. Starting in June my family (parents and husband) was in and out of the hospital - I'm just getting back to work on the 2nd novel.
I have 15k words of Leo and Wendy's story.
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