"The Gift" - A short story by Carmen Baum

He woke slowly, feeling an unfamiliar smile just around the edges of his lips. Sleep was loosening its grip, but he was still warm with the lingering images of the dream he’d be having of home. Yet this morning, strangely, the dream did not leave him aching, but instead, hopeful. He blinked back the bright sun, feeling that it was already starting to warm the room. The tiny dust particles twisting slowly in it’s beams were a sight he hadn’t seen in quite some time. A little more sleep fell away. Could today be the day?

He was torn between not wanting to leave the comforts of his dream, and the excitement of what the day might hold. He rose as he did every day, but today, something was different. An almost imperceptible shift had occurred, but he could feel it in his heart, and he was more certain than ever, that today was the day.

Not leaving anything to chance, and because he’d become a little lazy lately, he chose to dress for today. What would people think? They hadn’t seen him in anything more than jeans and a t-shirt since the day he arrived here. He felt almost giddy with excitement as he dressed and readied himself for the day. This was a feeling he thought he had long forgotten.

He rushed down the stairs and out the door, not entirely sure where he was going - just, that he was going. The door swung shut roughly behind him like it did when he was a boy, tearing out on a new adventure. He heard the now familiar rattle of the loose numbers and knew the last number, the 0, had come loose and swung down, making it now look like the house number was 119. Someone had put them up in a hurry before he arrived and didn’t have time to secure the last one properly. He made a mental note to fix it.

As he passed the pond on the south side of the property he wasn’t even tempted to stop. He had spent so many mornings just sitting there, staring across the water and feeling alone, yet this morning, he felt full. Overflowing with something almost unfamiliar. Promise? Joy? Hope? As he raised his hand to gesture good morning to his neighbor, he was blissfully unaware of the stares and the others that were crowding to their doors and windows to see him rush down the street, a soft glow beginning behind him.

It felt to him like entering a too dark house on the evening of your own birthday. Would all of your friends jump out to scream surprise with a giant cake, or would you find just one with a smile and a hug. Perhaps it would only be the thumping of a tail and few sloppy kisses. At this point, the pull of “something” had taken over his heart and it was as if his feet were not his own as they carried him around the corner and into the park.

The sun was just peeking over the tops of the big old trees making shadows where later people would gather as they did each afternoon. At the far end of the park, he could see a number of dogs, all gathered around the gate that marked the entry to the pathway beyond. He had only ever been on the path once and that was the day he arrived. As he thought about it now, he couldn’t remember what lay beyond the gate, just that it felt in some way familiar. As he stretched his mind for the details a great excitement rose from the dogs waiting at the gate. Ears and tails went up, noses sniffing the air. They circled around, each pushing to see down the path. From where he was standing he could see nothing but wagging tails. Even though they were way across the park, the barks and yips coming from the pack were unmistakable. A friend was approaching.

Where just minutes ago he couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, he now felt rooted to the spot. He had no idea what to expect, but he knew that he needed to be waiting here when the gate opened. He didn’t even hear the old hinges of the gate creaking in protest as it opened over the din of the excited dogs. As he watched them all circle around and around, sniffing, yipping and delivering their excited greeting he slowly started to see what all the excitement was about.

From the middle of the pack a black face turned to lock eyes with him. His heart raced. Could it be true? Had she really sent her best friend for him? His vision clouded and swam as he blinked back tears of surprise, excitement and disbelief. Was this really what he was seeing, or was it just a mass of dogs, playing as they did every day? He stretched up, trying to again lock eyes with that familiar soul, lost now in the swirling mass of fur and whiskers. Was his mind just playing tricks on him?

Just as he was starting to doubt it all, he saw that face again - older than he remembered. The grey on his muzzle and the shuffle in his step showed his years. In that moment, he felt like his heart might burst. He needed a friend so badly and she had known. She knew him so well.

The black dog shuffled out of the crowd, eyes on him, brightening with each step. He wore the happy years heavily on his back as he made his way slowly, but with purpose, toward the man who was standing, as he had done so many times, in full dress blues, a shine on his shoes and his hat neatly tucked under his arm. While he could still feel the aches and pains of his age, they started to almost melt away as the sun warmed his fur. He took one look back over his shoulder for his girl, but knew he would have to find her now, in his heart.

The dogs steps quickened, he was almost trotting now, and was surprised as he had forgotten what that felt like. It felt good! Ahead of him, the man wiped a tear and dropped to his knees, arms open. The dog could feel the glow of his girl’s love behind him, guiding him along, pushing him toward the man. As the grass brushed his now almost prancing toes, he remembered all of the days he had spent in the park, even after he was too old to do anything but lie basking in the sun and the love of his girl. What a life they had lived together!

As he reached the man he could see the tears streaming down his face. He had seen a lot of tears lately and knew they were the price you pay for love. As he melted into the man’s embrace, he felt that familiar feeling of home. The big warm hands that stroked his face and ears were gentle and the soft whispers in his ears and tears on his fur were welcome. They stayed like that for a long time - happy to see each other and yet both basking in the love that they had for her. Pain and happiness tugged at their hearts as they though of her, and how much she meant to both of them. Was it selfish of them to be happy in this moment? Was she going to be ok without them? They had so much of her to carry with them. They could only hope she would do the same.

Slowly, the man rose and shook the grass out of his hat but left the paw prints on his pants and shirt. He wore them as proudly as the badge on his chest. The two turned and started walking for home, a warm glow surrounding them. They had each other now, and with the immense love they both held for her shining down like a beacon on her heart, they knew she would be ok.

With a flick of his wrist, Paul grabbed a stick from the ground and let it fly, then surprised himself with a big booming laugh as Keziah, equally surprised, raced after it…a puppy once again.

By Carmen Baum
February 22, 2014
In Loving Memory of two amazing souls...

Keziah (May 1998 - Feb 2014)

Paul Butterfield (Feb 1970 - Sept 2013)



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ANNOUNCING: Episode Three of SKYE out on March 14th!

Here, have a few stills from the upcoming third installment of SKYE OF THE DAMNED...and a link to the teaser!!! Full episode hits the "air" on March 14th...so be ready! If you've not seen the first two episodes...scroll down and give them a watch!

Teaser Link:  http://vimeo.com/87962133

Nicoali is not impressed...

Kyle and Silas

Prince Cillian is not thrilled with Detective Carter

Vampire Detective Delaney and FAE Detective Carter

Silas

Keziah 1998-2014

IN LOVING MEMORY OF KEZIAH

On February 22nd I had to put down my best friend of almost 16 years. It was the most horrible, hardest thing I've ever had to do and I miss him desperately. I couldn't even post anything until now for fear I'd just sob my way through writing this.

I got Keziah at an adopt-a-pet in Rock Hill, SC, where I used to live, in the summer of 1998. He'd been born around May 10th of that year...so he was about 10 weeks old when I brought the tiny boy home. He hated his leash and had issues understanding that both forms of potty belonged outside. I specifically remember calling his trainer (after stepping in another indoor pile of poo) and saying I was going to hang him like a piñata. But he eventually got the hang of it and we quickly realized he was a smart boy.

Since we'd been dog owners for around 24 hours, my boyfriend at the time (J.J.) forgot about him once in the back yard. We were playing with him and the phone rang. So I ran in to get it...but it was for J.J. I thought he'd brought the dog in with him...he didn't...but I didn't realize since the call was rather an urgent issue. When J.J. needed something in my car, I opened the front door of my apartment (one of many doors in a long building), there sat my 10 week old black furball of a puppy, smiling like a loon at me. I was like, "Uh, J.J., where'd ya leave the dog?" His response, "Oh shit, in the back yard." To which I replied, "Not anymore, come look."

He'd somehow just found his front door after only being outside of it maybe once, and boy howdy was he a proud kid! LOL! I was like, "Good boy! Get your butt in here!" He trots in and flopped on the kitchen tile. He LOVED a cool kitchen floor. And that never changed.

I thought he was a Border Collie...but soon realized he was a mix of a black lab and a BC. Fearing he'd end up over 100 lbs, I hired a company called, "Dog Training in your Home." They came out once a week and trained me how to train Keziah...and he picked up really quick on everything. His trainer was impressed and very soon, we had a very well mannered dog (even if he did like to jump up to smell newcomer's ears).

Three years after I got him, I found myself moving to NYC and he blended in perfectly. First we lived in Brooklyn, then Queens, and then to Manhattan...where he thrived due to all the parks and the dogs in the area. The first two years I owned him, our apartment was the hub of activity. Everyone hung out there...stopping by whenever, knocking, and just walking in. Keziah became a very social dog and a fan of humans almost more so than dogs. I'd take him to the dog run and he'd sniff about but then come sit with me and the humans. Sometimes he'd play with a few of the dogs...but he prefered to listen to humans talk. If my roommates and I would gather in the apartment to chat, he'd lay down in the center of us.

Sadly, not all dogs liked him. He was big, black, wolf-like, not fixed (until he was 12), and they saw him as a threat. He was attacked more than once at the dog run in Inwood and so I couldn't take him anymore. But he never attacked a dog himself or a person. He was sweet, loving, of an even temperment, obedient, smart, athletic, and protective. I remember once, when I was still in SC....it was night and I was on the computer. I heard Keziah begin to bark like crazy and rush the back door (sliding glass). I look up and at first I couldn't see...but then I noticed there was a big man standing there with a beer, watching me. One look at my dog growling and puffed up the size of a damn wolf, and the man about fell as he rushed away.

 That wasn't theo nly time he made sure people knew he had my back...and I rewarded that by haing his as he got old and needed me to be his protector.

At the age of two he was diagnosed with epilepsy. Medication didn't seem to help, but he didn't have them often so he and I got the routine down: shake, vomit three times, walk away fine. I'd hold him and spread plastic in front of him and put a towel around him for the drool. He dealt with this his whole life and I believe was the sweeter for it. He had no other ailments until he was 12 and I found a tumor on the base of his tail. It was cancer; a parianal tumor. Luckily I found it in time and we got it all...but he needed to be fixed. Then he had thyroid issues...severe UTI's...arthritis...and then, sadly, in the summer of 2013 we noticed mouth tumors. He was just too old to give chemo to...so we kept up his multiple pain meds, arthritis, cranberry chews, and thyroid meds. The tumors even magically disappeared (which is nuts cause they were the size of 50 cent pieces and thick) by January.

But sadly, by Feb 12th, he collapsed on his walk that evening and I fought to get a car that would take me and him to the vet. I didn't put him down, wondering if he'd be better the next day. And he was! He and I spent the next week together...fighting to get his meds down him...getting him to eat...etc. I was having to carry him a lot or use a special item to help him up the stairs (where I still pretty much supported most of his weight) and on walks.

Then, he stopped eating. Even rice and chicken. On Friday when I got home, he'd not moved and he'd pee'd himself. He barely could hold his head up...even though he smiled at me. I knew I needed to let him go. He'd given me a week extra...he's pushed himself to the limit for me so I could prepare to let him go.

On February 22nd, at 2pm, I said goodbye to my fur-baby. The kindest, most loving, dependable, caring "man" I'd ever had the honor to know. As they gave him the shot, he bumped my face with his nose to say goodbye, and drifted away. I felt his spirit leave and I held him for another half hour at least. In fact, it was harder to walk out of that room than it was to take away his pain. For he was dying of cancer that coated his throat/esophagus/stomach. But damn if he didn't hold on to the end. Till he couldn't walk. Cause he didn't want to leave me.

His last night, I dragged him from room to room when he'd bark...because as a Border Collie, he monitored the apartment all night for us and when he couldn't get up, he cried on my cool kitchen floor. So I found a doggy bed my step mother had given me (that he wouldn't use before), lay him on it, and used it to drag him around every hour or so. He'd given me so much in almost 16 years, it was the least I could do to help aleviate his anxiety. Till the end, he did his job...he was loved....he was medically cared for...and when he left, I told him to go find Paul (my friend who I wrote about before who was killed in September)...for he was a HUGE animal lover and his birthday was only two days previous.

So I say goodbye to my best friend....I miss you more everyday. I know the pain will fade...but I'll never stop missing you. Ever.

I love you.

Tamsin

P.S. There are tons of more Keziah stories to tell....but I didn't want this post to be THAT long....I'll share more as we go...for his life should be remembered and told.....for he had a wonderfully long life for a dog his size....and he gave back all he was given, and more.

Episode Two of SKYE: "Welcome to my City"

Welcome to Episode Two of SKYE of the DAMNED! We are excited to bring you the next installment of the show. Here's the synopsis and link....ENJOY!

SYNOPSIS: Music, murder, and mayhem...Skye MacKenna (played by Lauren Steinmeyer) finds herself in over her head at the goth/industrial club when she discovers the NYC scene and city are way more vamped out than she was told.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gm4-BSiChAQ

-Tamsin :)

Episode One of SKYE is LIVE!

As many of you know, I have been working on a Web Series called SKYE OF THE DAMNED. Well...as today is Halloween...we thought it would be the perfect day to release Episode One.

So...here you go! Enjoy and please, share the link to everyone you know! LOL!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UsH-kn4K3NY

Remembering Paul Butterfield

Today is a day to remember those who lost their lives here in New York on 9/11/01…but I am busy mourning someone closer to me…who was killed on 9/9/13. Trooper Paul Butterfield was shot in the head by a 19 year old boy in a stolen vehicle with his 20-year-old pregnant wife during a routine traffic stop. This man’s father was a cop, so he knew exactly where to shoot. Yet Paul was strong enough to hold on until he was air lifted to a hospital in Traverse City. Sadly, he died during surgery and we lost a great man…and I lost a piece of my heart.

I’ve known Paul since I was around 6 years old. He didn’t live on Westbridge Court with me and the other boys of my class, but he lived in the apartments down the road and happened upon us one day on his exploring of the neighborhood and we adopted him. We grew up building forts in the storm ravaged woods behind the court, swimming (ok, dunking me under if we’re going to be honest here…ha!) in the Hernick’s pool, and playing kickball/softball on the court. He once said to me, after we were adults, your mailbox was always 3rd base…and I had to laugh…cause it was funny that he remembered that. So few would. 



Paul and me at our 20th Year High School Reunion



I had the joy of dating Paul for a while in 2007 (into 2008). There’s a fun story that leads up to that and I’d like to share it. So, he was one of the few people I wanted to see at our 10-year reunion, but when he didn’t make it, I used the address they had in the books we got, and wrote him a letter to him in Hawaii. But I never heard from him. Come to find out, later on, he did get the letter, but it was just before he was moving back to the “main land” and had put it into a book and hadn’t found it again until later. When he wrote me, the letter came back b/c I’d moved to New York. Then MySpace was invented and he found me. We talked on the phone a lot because I lived in NYC and he was up in Manistee, MI. Then I went to visit him and things became more romantically involved. But we both knew I couldn’t move to Manistee…and he couldn’t leave, though he talked of becoming a police officer in Connecticut if he got laid off when Michigan was making their cuts around that time.  

If it had been later in my life, like say…now, I could have left NYC. As a writer, I can be anywhere. But at the time I was doing theatre/running a company here…so the timing was off. The day of our 20th year reunion he met me at a store near my dad’s place. We shopped and caught up, and then we sat in his car and he let me know he’d met a great girl who lived near him that he was dating. It hurt, for I loved him dearly…but I knew she was a better choice for him at that point in my life for multiple reasons. Primarily because I couldn’t live in MI and she did. I wanted him happy more than anything, so I let him go without a fight. That wonderful woman's name was Jennifer and I was right to let him go…he spent the next 5 happy years with her, and then they got engaged. I was SO happy he was happy! Of course, part of me never stopped loving him. How could I not? He was a good man and he’d been a part of my life in so many ways since I was a child. 

He loved to tease me about dodge ball. LOL! God, I hated that game! He admitted to always throwing it at me…and to knowing I used to step out of bounds on purpose. Oh how I laughed! He remembered tripping me in grade school more than once…which I didn’t remember at all. So I teased him back and said, “So you’ve always liked me. I see how you are.” He laughed and admitted I had a point. To know someone has thought highly of you your whole life, as you have them, was something that touched my heart in a way no one else could have. 

There are many memories of Paul that make me laugh…three in particular come to mind. One was that he wore balloons under his shirt and a skirt (and a wig if i remember correctly) to my birthday party when we were around 10 or so (there might be a pic somewhere, I'll look!). God how we laughed at/with him! The second one was when he scared Jenny Hargett and me on Devil’s Night on our way to TP some poor gal’s house. It was dark at the end of our street and we came around the corner and was on a run…and about ran us over! We screamed and he laughed, making us laugh as well. That boy was always running! Third memory has to do with running also. I went to watch him run a race at the high school track our senior year and he was way ahead of everyone else, as usual. We were screaming and yelling…and then he won…and ya know what? Everyone else still had a whole other lap to go! HA! We all just cheered as we went over to congratulate him, laughing the whole way at how everyone was still running for 2nd place.

When I found out he’d become a cop…I was surprised. I’d thought for sure he’d have been a professional running trainer or in the Olympics. He was in the Pan-American games I believe. And he ran in Hawaii, where he also was the manager of a running-shoe store there…but he came back to the states and became a cop…which he loved. With how big a heart he had…it really shouldn’t have been that big of a surprise that he served. Being a cop means you take the hardest job and make it yours without a second thought. Once, we were at the bus stop and the neighbor’s cat got hit by a car and killed in front of us all. Paul was the one to go get the cat from the road and take it to the family. He’s always been a cat guy…pets in general really…but cats were a soft spot for the man (he has like eight!). For him to do that had to have been hard…but it was the right thing to do, so he did it, and then he went to school. I remember seeing him in the hall that day and I asked him if he was okay. He said he was, but his eyes said he wasn’t really…but he thanked me for asking, even though he had to be a big 6th grade boy about it.

I always cared for Paul. Then I got to love Paul as an adult. I still love him. My heart is broken and I’m hurting more than I can really express. But once time heals some of this pain, I’ll have all the great memories of our childhood together and the time we dated. There will be the memories of our playing as children, talks over & about wine, our trip to Traverse City, our window-shopping, our swimming in the lake near Manistee, our discussions about dogs and music (he turned me on to Switchblade Symphony), our late night calls when he was stuck sitting in his cop car in the snow, and many other things that make me smile.

 I treasured him. I hope he knew that. I will miss him immeasurably.

💔 Tamsin

For those who have not heard about or know Paul, here are just a few of the links to see who he was:

http://www.mlive.com/news/saginaw/index.ssf/2013/09/paul_butterfield_starred_at_br.html#incart_m-rpt-2

https://www.facebook.com/groups/23072539635/permalink/10151913489504636/

http://www.lansingstatejournal.com/article/20130911/NEWS01/309110022/1002/NEWS01

http://www.upi.com/blog/2013/09/11/State-trooper-shot-at-traffic-stop-mourned-suspects-father-speaks/3301378900380/

http://www.inquisitr.com/944067/trooper-butterfield-killed-during-traffic-stop/

http://news.search.yahoo.com/search?p=Trooper+Butterfield&ei=UTF-8&vm=r&fr=yfp-t-900-s&fr2=newsdd

Magical Words!

YAY! THEY ARE HAVING ME BACK! WOOOOOOOOOOT!

Eh-hem...I mean, today I am guest blogging on the amazing website, MagicalWords.Net.

Last time, and my first post ever on the site, was on June 27th...the day we held our fund raising party for Skye of the Damned. They are having me back today to write again. In June I spoke of the challenges of writing for screen vs. writing for books (you can go read it HERE). Today I'm speaking about an artist's state of mind...how they can get down on themselves by failing to remember the good, fretting about things they can't change, and forgetting to enjoy what they have done.

This has been weighing on my mind a lot as I've been a yo-yo myself lately. One moment I'm proud of my work and what I'm doing...the next minute I'm down on myself and in a total depressed/stressed out state. This is something that plagues all artists...no matter what area they are in, be it writing or dance or painting or acting or...you get the picture.

So head on over and maybe my words will encourage and empower you today...for that's what I was trying to accomplish with this.

Have a great week...and btw...on THIS blog, in honor of my Bday yesterday, I tell you how to download my short story, Heroes Square for FREE...so....I suggest you get your butt on over to the blog and read! And while you're there, read posts from other writers....these people who write for this blog are amazing!!!!

Write Hard!

Tamsin :)

PRIMARY CAST OF "SKYE OF THE DAMNED"