The Phone Call — 1 November 2019

'Ring, ring. Ring, ring.' “Hello.” “Is Dick Misch there?” “Well, he's here, but he's not available. He's fishin'. Is this Geary?” “Yeah. Is this Frank Witcomb?” I couldn't believe it. A guy from the old dock in Wickford. “Yeah. Hi Geary. How ya doin'?” “I'm good, Frank. Can you get Dad for me?” “Sorry, Geary, he's fishin'. The blues are runnin'. They're chasin' the menhaden, chopin' 'em to pieces. Your dad won't be home for hours. He went out with a ten weight fly rod and a bunch of clousers. I'll bet he's havin' the time of his life.” I was taken aback — Dad with a fly rod? “He's using a fly rod now, eh Frank?” “Yeah. He can see outta both eyes again, and he's deadly with that rod. A fifteen pound blue on that ten weight is a blast!” “I'll bet it is, Frank.”

“Look, Frank, would you ask Dad to call me when he gets back? I really need to talk to him.” “I understand, Geary, but things don't work that way with this phone. No outgoing calls. It just doesn't work that way. I'm sorry.”

“I understand, Frank. How's Tina?” “She's not here. No bikinis allowed in this section. You remember how she loved that bikini. She's in anothah section. We get to visit once a year. She was fine last time I saw her. Of course once you get here you don't get sick anymore.

“Right, Frank. Thanks. Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Geary.” Click.

I Know What You Did

He came to me,

First at night,

Awaking me,

The tiny face in tears,

But not in tears,

Untouchable,

“I know what you did.”

At first,

His grief was not mine,

Then he came to me by day,

Somehow,

Just beyond my reach,

“I know what you did.”

He no longer need come to me by night,

My sad psyche seemed to summon him,

Or await him,

That my slumber might be disturbed.

I was powerless to reach out,

Powerless to silence him,

As he called me to account for an evil,

An evil done long ago,

In a far off place,

Who could remember?

“I know what you did.”

I had stepped across a line

Into a space,

Where none should be.

I could not undo,

What I had done.

I knew him not,

But he knew me,

Or knew my heart,

As it once was.

“I know what you did.”

But I knew not,

It lay too far,

In my wake,

As I hoped,

For a peace,

That would not come.

The Room

Those who suffer a great tragedy often feel they are alone. You are never alone. Many have gone before you. Forget not this fact.

The Room

In the room there stands,

Shelf on yellow shelf of Geographics,

Looking down upon a couch that once saw

Gentle passion,

And a long past dinner party.

Now there just remains a silent coffee table,

Holding on its muted top,

A sad few dusty cards,

That wish condolences,

In a house where emptiness is

Destined ever more to live.

Subscription Information

Here's a hint — if you would like to be notified every time I post something new, type your name in the box above and click the <submit> button. You will be subscribed to the blog. There will be no spam involved, and I would never sell your email address to anyone.

Farewell, Little Kitten

I was feeding my community cats, who live in two warehouses in downtown Syria, when a lady I know came up to me. She had spotted something in the road, which at first appeared to be a small clump of leaves, but turned out to be a very small, buff colored kitten. She had seen me feeding, so here she was, asking if I could take the kitten. After all, my wife and I are half of the MAD Cats organization. The poor little guy's eyes were glued shut with puss, and he was squeaking with unhappiness. At about five weeks old he clearly missed his mom. I slipped him into a box full of towels on the front passenger seat of my car, where he constantly tried to climb out while I drove the three plus miles home, with one hand holding him in.

My wife cleaned up his eyes. We named him Reid, after Kathie Reid, who had brought him to us (we couldn't name him Kathie). We took Reid to Laurie Counts, our kitten specialist, who treated his eyes with medicine, and bottle fed him (Reid could and did eat real kitten food, but Laurie liked to give very young kittens a little extra something to make sure they had all the right nutrients since they couldn't nurse).

Reid was very active, and lots of fun. He played with the other kittens, all bigger than he was, but a few weeks later he began to lose energy and became dehydrated. Laurie took him to the vet, but he continued to go down hill until he died. It was a very sad experience for us. We felt that we had all saved a very special kitten, then we had lost him. Many kittens don't survive to adulthood; as an organization we have unfortunately lost many kittens this way, so we are used to this, but it's always very sad.

Little Reid,

The energy that launched,

A dozen smiles,

And more,

You lived so much,

In just a few short weeks,

Go join your brothers,

And your sisters,

Who charmed us so,

In days gone past,

Farewell.

September, 1939

Sixty years ago this September the world changed rapidly in ways that no one imagined it could. New technology burst upon the world, almost as astonishing as the technology of today, and in a way much more disruptive.
For my family, most of a generation was lost on both sides; they were burnt to ashes, and so there were no further generations on that side of the Atlantic. The fate of most is not specifically known, though in one case, my aunt Xina, a professor of languages, her fate is known. She foolishly walked to the gate of a concentration camp in an attempt to bring her husband a warm winter coat. She was shot to death in the snow.
For Europe, the entire fabric of the pre war culture was destroyed. When they began again, everything was different.

september, 1939

as september began,

before the sun rose,

on warsaw,

and,

on one point five millions,

marching smartly,

as newly proud germans did,

marching to poland's destiny,

crushing families,

with soldiers,

families never seen again.

from afar,

empires promised hope,

and help,

while the world watched,

a final solution began.

'twas the land of mazurkas

Turned upside down.

the home of chopin,

chopped up by the scream of –

bombs,

And the clank of the tank.

As september ended,

the sun set on the ashes

of warschau.

A Little Navy Spy Work – Chapter ONE

This is Chapter One of My Novel About a Soviet Agent in Place in the Early 1970s United States. More Chapters will be Blogged in the Near Future

2 April 1973

Genady watched the ants work tirelessly about their hill, servicing the colony. The shiny brown bodies glistened in the sun, as they scurried up the mottled sand they had dug out, running in and out of the nest, never appearing to tire of doing their tasks, whatever those tasks were. He was not an entomologist, and he had no idea what they were doing, but he had always been fascinated by insects. As a young boy on a collective farm in the Ukraine, he had often been accused of being a slacker when he stole away to the woods to observe beetles and ants, and in the spring caterpillars and butterflies. 

Single ants were peeling off from the colony now, exploring, perhaps seeking food. Genady sat on the rock he had chosen, as still as a statue, watching two individual ants as they continued to diverge from the colony. Soon the two ants' paths separated, and he had trouble following both, so he concentrated on one.

He glanced at his watch, a cheap Citizen Rolex look alike. It was almost 10:40. He began scanning the dusty tan dirt road in the distance. Slowly standing, he moved to the right with almost imperceptible steps. He occasionally glanced down, doing his best not to step on any ants, but his attention was primarily reserved for the distance, where there might be surveillance. Occasionally he rotated his body in a full circle, but he was not terribly worried about what lay behind. Perhaps fifty feet behind him was a near sheer rock wall covered with scrub growth. Springs ran out of the rock at various points, making a quiet, soothing trickling noise. Between him and the wall was dense growth. Anyone trying to get close would have to work their way through the heavy trees, bushes, and vines, making an awful racket. There was only one good line of approach, and that was from ahead. Hopefully the kid had not lost his nerve. He was too important to lose, though some recruits just did not work out.

Patience was a critical part of his job. Patience and precision. And you must definitely be a believer. Working in the West was not for the faint of heart.

He was now safely away from the ant colony. His eyes scanned the distance. There was no horizon, just brown tangles of trees, mostly devoid of leaves in the early spring, running well up into the puffy clouds. A few trees had a hint of green as the leaves started to peek out. He kept his eyes on the tan strip that was the dirt fire road criss-crossing the park. "As long as the kid comes, I wouldn't mind waiting another hour in this place. It's beautiful," he thought. But he was kidding himself. Once the time was near, his mind went to business.

He did not have long to wait. He caught a slight movement in the trees. At first he could see it only occasionally, but unless he was very unlucky, this would be his man. Soon he could see the movement almost continuously as it broke and reappeared from behind the trees. When he could discern the shape of a car he became pleased. The kid was following directions. He had told him to drive slowly, so as not to throw up a cloud of dust and attract attention.

Eventually the car came to a stop in plain view. Genady had left a marker for the kid. He got out, removed a white ribbon tied to a small sapling, and buried it at the base of the tree. Then he leaned against his car for a few minutes before walking into the woods. "Good job, kid," Genady thought, "this is a promising start. May we have many fine years together."

Genady had instructed the kid to wait by his car for a few minutes. That gave the case officer time to observe for possible followers. Then the kid was to start walking into the woods until he was met. The kid was clearly not at home in the forest. He tripped, and grasped for hand holds in the awkward footing. He kept looking down and around as his feet slipped and were turned by the uneven ground. He was wearing street shoes, and began to look a bit breathless. Genady waited until the kid had gotten deep enough into the woods to look concerned. Then he began walking toward him, and called out. "Howard, over here." The kid smiled immediately. Genady gave him a big smile back, and he smiled inside. It was good for this young man to see his handler as a father figure. "Hi, Allie. I thought you weren't coming!" "Oh, don't you worry," said Genady, in his most reassuring voice. “I will always come.” He had just the slightest trace of accent from his native Ukraine, courtesy of a special school where the KGB ensures that its handlers can function in the West. It was a reassuring voice. Genady had no need to "pass" as an American, but he spoke with a deep, nearly accent free voice that communicated to westerners that he could be "one of them." His cover story had his place of birth as the Farøe Islands.

"Come, Howard, I've brought a snack. Let's talk, but you mustn't stay too long." Genady found a place where they could both sit on relatively clean rocks. He pulled out two small bottles of mineral water, two French pastries, and two napkins. "Here, try these, they are very good. Now what have you brought me?" The young man handed over his small backpack, and waited for Genady to look inside. Genady turned to him. "I will look. You eat." Howard opened the bottle, took a long draw, and went to work on the pastry. 

Genady had selected something especially good, both in taste and appearance. He wanted the kid to feel special. It was working.

He turned his attention to the backpack, carefully unzipping it, and emptying its contents to the bed of dried leaves at his feet. The contents consisted of dozens of packages of cards, about three by seven inches in size, sealed in clear cellophane. The cards were covered with little holes spaced at random intervals. Each card had a name such as USXYZ 4756A. They were all stamped TOP SECRET. Many had additional code words on them. He couldn't tell exactly how many cards were in a package, but he assumed about a month's worth. In any case, that was not his affair.

This was excellent. To the extent of the evidence at hand, the kid had followed all instructions to the letter. It was impossible to know whether he had followed all instructions while on the ship, but he seemed very eager to please, and bright enough to do so. He turned back to the kid, who had finished the pastry, and was sipping the last of his mineral water.

Before he spoke, Genady held his breath and listened. He slowly moved his head, but mostly his eyes, looking for surveillance. He saw nothing. A pro wouldn't give himself away, except - humans can and do make mistakes. If he were under surveillance, it would not matter whether he knew it or not. Done is done. Still, better to know sooner.

Finally, he smiled at the kid and spoke. "This is excellent, Howard. It's just what is needed." He never made this stuff seem about his country. It would always be a transaction between the kid and his handler. The kid's face lit up with the sign of approval. "I used the system that you told me," the kid said, "and it worked just like you said it would." Howard was anxious to describe his success. Genady was hesitant to prolong the meeting, but it was important to ensure that his agent was properly prepared. Most of all, the agent must never feel let down by his handler. He let him talk for a bit. "The alternate didn't know the difference when I slipped all the cards out and told him that the radiomen had already destroyed them. It all went just as you said it would."

The kid was starting to get a little worked up, and he was repeating himself. Genady gave him a big smile and a few professorial nods of the head, then interrupted. "This is perfect, Howard. You've gotten the system down right away. There are still some things we need to discuss, though, and it isn't safe for us to meet for too long, or too often." The kid nodded. "Before we discuss these, I want to let you know that you have definitely advanced the cause of world peace, and if you think I am kidding, let me assure you that I am not. In the event of great tensions between our two countries, what you are doing will enable our fleet commanders to contact your fleet commanders, even when the politicians may not permit it. This could help avoid nuclear war. That’s why it is so critical that you keep this strictly between you and me. It is not the kind of thing that ordinary folks approve of." "I understand," the kid said. He wore what was probably the most serious look he had in his sea bag. "The kid couldn't have looked more earnest the first time he got laid," Genady thought. This was one serious young lieutenant.

"As I was saying, we must meet in a different way in the future. You and I will meet, but it is best if you do not deliver the material directly to me. We will use something called a dead drop." "I've seen them in the movies," the kid nodded. "Yes, they’re in films, but they are also quite real. On the screen, the spy leaves a slip of paper with a message in a drop in a stone wall. In our case, however, you must leave a bunch of cards. They are too big for stone walls, so I have arranged for three larger places. You will use one each time, never the same twice in a row."

Genady took the kid through the entire sequence of trade craft for using the drops, including how to signal that they were full. Since the drops had to hold large loads, they were in isolated places. There was a test load in each now to ensure that the kid had found them. Once he had found all of them, he was to call a number, and ask if there was a fishing guide for hire there.

"Now this is pretty complicated, so I have put it down on paper, which is not the best idea. It's very thin paper. In fact, in a pinch, you could eat this paper to destroy it." The kid gave him a wide eyed look. Real spy stuff. "I want you to commit this to memory, then destroy the paper within twenty-four hours. Do you think you can do that?"

"I can do that." The kid was very earnest, very willing to please. He was probably working on his officer qualifications instead of screwing his girlfriend every night. Come to think of it, Genady didn't know whether he had a girlfriend. Girlfriends and wives can be very high risk elements. "Howard, do you have a girlfriend?" "No, not right now. I'm kind of between them." "We're in a risky business, Howard. It's important that what we do remains between us. I know that you understand that. Wives and girlfriends can be our downfall." "I understand, Allie." "Good, good. This has been an important meeting, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done, but it is not safe for us to meet too often. We will meet next month at the pastry shop, just to see how things are going, yes?" "Yes," the kid enthused. "I will call you with a time. Don’t worry about keeping a time open. I'm flexible." He gave the kid a big smile.

Genady had handed the pack back to the kid. The card packs remained on the ground. Now Genady reached into his own pack, coming out with a business size white envelope. "Here," he said, handing it to the kid, "this is for you." "What is it?" the kid asked. "A thousand dollars." "I couldn't take that. I'm not doing this for money. I'm doing this for the cause of peace." "I know," but you are incurring expenses, and taking risks. Both are worth something. It's not like I am paying you a fortune." Genady brought out a small pad of paper. "I need you to sign a receipt. My boss insists. He wants to make sure that I am not spending this on booze and dancing girls." Genady gave the kid a reassuring grin. The kid signed; the incriminating act was complete. He hadn't just sold his country out - he'd sold it out for money. Genady grinned again, and the kid laughed as he handed the receipt back. "I can't imagine you with dancing girls, Allie," he said with a sly grin. The ice was broken. The kid wouldn't know that all foreign agents receiving funds from the Soviet Union were required to sign receipts. Genady returned the smile. "You are right, Howard. I can’t dance at all. I can’t even clap to a rhythm."

"Now you must leave, Howard. We have met for too long already, but there was much to discuss." Genady stood up and shook hands warmly with the kid, using both hands. "Remember to take the same care leaving that you did in coming. You have executed this job perfectly. Take care, my friend. Next month, over a cup of good coffee."

Genady sat back down and watched the kid stumble back to his car over the uneven ground, backpack no longer swaying now that it was empty. He sat completely still, as if a hunter in a blind, until the car was out of sight, and only the sounds of the forest remained. Then he periodically held his breath, listening, and looking, but he saw nothing except normal forest movement. His silence, and his stillness, brought the other forest creatures alive, suggesting that he was alone. When he estimated that a half hour had elapsed, he bent down, gathered up the TOP SECRET material that the kid had brought him, and carefully placed it all in his backpack. Then he nibbled his pastry, finished his mineral water, and began the long hike back to his car.

Farewell Makenzie

The problem with a dog is you get attached – even if she's someone else's dog, sometimes.

MakenzieKu

The empty collar,

Says she's returned to her guy,

And left another.

Tiananmen Square at Thirty - Lest We Forget

Democracy Wall was an illusion, given to the Chinese People by the Party. It was a gift that could be cherished, but never used. It's been replaced by the Great Firewall, the second Great Leap Forward, sort of. This haiku is dedicated to the artist(s) who made the Chinese Statue of Liberty in Tiananmen Square.

An Elegy for Democracy Wall

From Tiananmen Square,

We erased the freedom of

Democracy Wall

We Live in a Country of Too Many Sunshine Patriots

"These are the times that try men's souls.
 The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will,
in this crisis, 
shrink from the service of their country;
but he that stands it now,
deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.

Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; 
Yet we have this consolation with us, 
That the harder the conflict, 
The more glorious the triumph.
What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly.
Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods;
And it would be strange indeed,
If so celestial an article as Freedom 
should not be highly rated."
-- Thomas Paine

Kittens for Adoption

1. Jingles, F, DMH, black tabby, about 5 months old. Already spayed at MCAH where she had Rabies and Distemper, utd on deworming.  Very loving, great potential as lap cat, favorite toy is catnip carrot and laser light. Quiet family, loves belly rubs.
2. Noel, F, DSH, tabby, about 3 months. Up to date on deworming, Distemper combo Jan 17th. Noel is very playful, fearless, curious, but gentle and sweet. Would do well with active family.
   

Jingles in Front, Noel in Rear

Last Words

Dearest Dad

Your last words?

I would treasure them,

Had they not been unheard,

Lost In that sacred space

Surrounding you,

When you left us,

For we had left you,

Alone.

Now they rest

In my head,

“Like un-cried tears.”