Charlie

Charlie was a busboy at a restaurant, oddly enough, named Charlie's. He was not the owner. In fact, the owner was not named Charlie but had lost a bet with a friend many years earlier which required him to name his newest restaurant as such.

Charlie was an idiot although he was competent at his job. People tended to stay out of his way since he was easily rattled and distracted. In a four shift it was rare for him to speak more than ten words at any given moment. This was the way people liked it and wanted it.

This was not the way, however, that Susan had been raised. She was a regular at Charlie's but only started to notice Charlie the busboy recently. At first it was pure curiosity which caused her to ask her favorite waiter "Why do people make a point of not talking to that boy?" The waiter claimed ignorance and then clearly chose the inconvenient route to reach the kitchen in order to avoid him. This only furthered to pique Susan's interest but she bided her time.

Over the next couple months she made observations in the hopes of understanding the situation. Charlie seemed to move swiftly throughout the restaurant - he never had to be called to clean a table or a spill.

Euclid Street

Long unintended extended hiatus over as spontaneously as it began.

Ironically, Euclid Street was the main road in my college town but I never thought of it as the premise for a story until seeing it in LA.

Euclid Street - Part 1

If Tom Sharp had been told when he was eighteen that by thirty four he would be married, divorced, married again, divorced again, dating a girl from Mississippi, and have two children and one dog, all under five years old, he might have tried to steer his life in an altogether different direction. But, as it happened, he had not been informed, and in August of 1995, at age thirty four, Tom Sharp found himself moving in with his girlfriend, Karen Peters, on Euclid Street.

Her father had found the house for sale one morning during his daily run, nearly thirty years earlier. He immediately sprung into action by jogging into the open house. He met with the broker, jogged up and down to the master bedroom and the basement, and left his business card. Later that day, he owned the house.

He moved in with his pregnant fiancé in 1972 when Euclid Street was at the beginning of its rebuilding. Most of the houses were relics form the turn of the century. One house, number 1861, was built the year the War of Northern Aggression began.

When Mr. Oscar Peters moved into his house on Euclid Street, the entire neighborhood received a facelift. The Peters family was descended from some of the first pilgrims, or so they claimed, and were accustomed to living an affluent life. Martha Dunn, Oscar’s fiancé, who was lucky enough to fall in love with such a distinguished man, and enter into a life of luxury, was at first appalled and confused at Oscar’s rash purchase.

“You could have any house in any town,” Martha said in an airy Alabama accent.

Oscar did not listen to her complaints, and Martha eventually came around. Two months later Karen was born and Martha’s concerns about her husband’s realty choices were all but forgotten. Besides, she knew that Oscar was no fool.

And so did Oscar. He was not the type of man to live somewhere that did not live up to his grandeur. He was known in town as somewhat of a perfectionist. His lawn was cut at just the right length. His house was always at the right temperature. The shade in the backyard only brought refreshing breezes, never chills. Similarly, his parties were frequently the highlight of the social calendar. Everyone looked forward to the somehow perfectly mixed sweet teas.

Though he was a humble man, he was not a peasant and did not want to be surrounded by them. However, he was also a man who did not give up on what he loved simply because it was not perfect. He loved the house. And he wanted the street.

When Oscar stepped into City Hall and laid ten grand on the table (in words, not dollars), the Euclid Street Renaissance, which turned into the Estoria Township Renaissance, began. Many were skeptical about his plans, and refused to pay any attention to him, thinking the whole project to be a display of wealth by an arrogant man. Oscar paid them no attention, and no money. Years later, those same skeptics attempted to buy houses on Euclid Street, only to be turned down by the Euclid Council, headed by Oscar Peters.

Tom Sharp knew very little of this history, for all his facts about the Estoria Township came from Karen Peters, who had left the town for boarding school when she was sixteen and stayed away for nearly twenty years. She kept in touch with her family, and saw them at various vacation spots around the world, but it was not until she turned thirty that she felt a desire to return to Euclid Street

Karen and Tom met in New York City where both lived in comfortable downtown apartments near NYU. Tom first saw Karen at a mutual friend’s party, but did not meet her until several weeks later at the same friend’s movie screening. The film was entitled “To Begin Again” and revolved around a married couple facing relationship problems. It was based on some real experiences that Tom knew about all too well. He was amazed to see the couple make it through the ordeal and then have the confidence in themselves to go through it all over again by making the film.

After the screening there was a small cocktail reception in the lobby and Tom saw Karen for the second time. Her dress caught his attention. It was polka dot. He could not remember the last time he had seen a grown woman wearing a polka dot piece of clothing, let alone an entire dress. She was between conversations when he got to her. “You’re a popular gal,” he said behind her as she reached for some hor d’oeuvres. She turned and mistook his comment to be from another friend and immediately started talking to the man standing next to Tom. The friend, a little surprised at the situation because he knew who had tried to speak to Karen, did not stop the conversation because Karen was pretty and he also had a crush on her.

As the reception wined down, Tom attempted again, after having boosted his confidence by introducing himself to more than a few jack and cokes. This time, he approached the filmmaker, John Swallow.

“John, who’s that girl in the polka dots?” Tom asked when he finally did get a chance to talk to the director. In fact, those were the first words Tom had spoken to him all night. He did not even comment on the film.

“There’s someone wearing a polka dot dress at my film premier?” John asked, bewildered. “Who invited her?”

“I have no idea but don’t make her leave before I get her number.” Tom discreetly pointed in Karen’s direction and both half stared, half looked disinterested.

“Oh,” John said, turning his back to her so that he could have a real conversation, “that’s Karen Peters. She works in advertising.”

Tom sipped his drink and kept his gaze on her. After a brief silence, he finally looked back at John. “Well, are you going to introduce us?”

John looked back at his friend, contemplating Tom’s background. John had been friends with Tom’s second wife and had heard stories of the first. He did not know all the details of the divorce and Tom did not offer them. What he did know was that Tom was often rash when it came to women. He would become infatuated with a woman and persist after her until his love waned and left both of them spent. He had seen it happen to another one of his friends, Susan McCord, and was not particularly interested in seeing it happen to another. John toyed with the idea of refusing to introduce them but realized their friendship was stronger than that. He made a mental note to talk to Karen separately.

But Tom proved his friend wrong. Not only did Tom adore Karen but she loved him back, and within six months the two were living together in Tom’s former bachelor apartment.