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    Wetland: A Love Story
    Wetland: A Love Story
    Wetland: A Love Story
    Ebook151 pages1 hour

    Wetland: A Love Story

    By Robin Ray

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    About this ebook

    Dustin Nguyen has the hots for 35-year-old exotic dancer Gwen Pham. He lives and breathes for her but there are just two slight problems - she thinks he's too young for her at 21, and she's not interested. Phong is engaged to be married to his sweetheart, the love of his life, violinist Violet Chang. All he has to do now is figure out why and where she'd disappeared to and perhaps their proposed marriage can get back on track. Andrew is homeless, but he doesn't let that get in the way of securing the things he needs most - hot food, warm shelter, and the comforting arms of a stranger. One rain-swept city, three stories aching to be told. Where else can hope and love spring eternal but in Seattle, the Evergreen Kingdom?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobin Ray
    Release dateFeb 7, 2017
    ISBN9781370428687
    Wetland: A Love Story
    Author

    Robin Ray

    Robin was born in Trinidad & Tobago and emigrated to the U.S. when he was 12. Always an avid reader, he soaked in many a title in his youth which he followed up by studying English at Iowa State University. Primarily a nurse throughout his lifetime, he always paused to focus on two passions - music and writing. His music endeavors include playing in rock bands, recording albums and working as a recording engineer in a studio he co-owned in NY city. Finally taking a break from music, he re-focused on his other love, writing. Thus far he's written two novels, five novellas, five screenplays, and numerous short stories. With a work of non-fiction also under his belt, his genres run the gamut from mystery to horror, crime to romance, science fiction to historical fiction. Having lived a journeyman-type of life, Robin has been in the company of poor folks and millionaires, spiritual leaders and gangbangers, city dwellers and rural farmers, the ultra-religious and free thinkers. Each situation he has experienced has helped shape and infuse his work with their colors, some of it vibrant, others quite devastating. Besides working as a nurse and recording engineer, he's also driven a taxi, worked the grill and maintenance at several fast food restaurants, worked at an animal shelter, overnight stocked at a retail giant, was a camp counselor and worked with developmentally disabled adults at a long-term psychiatric center.

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      Book preview

      Wetland - Robin Ray

      WETLAND:

      A LOVE STORY

      Robin Ray

      Wetland: A Love Story

      by Robin Ray

      Copyright ©2017 Robin Ray

      https://seattlewordsmith.wordpress.com/

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

      CONTENTS

      Chapter I

      Chapter II

      Chapter III

      Chapter IV

      Chapter V

      Chapter VI

      Chapter VII

      Chapter VIII

      Epilogue

      Acknowledgements

      Other Books by Robin Ray

      Act I – By Way of Texas

      Chapter I

      IT is just a few miles outside of Amarillo, Texas on a bright Sunday morning. The sky is clear. The temperature outside is a balmy 72 degrees, but the vultures circling in the sky high up above the dusty plains is telling a solemn story. A white prison bus marked Amarillo Dept. Of Corrections is making its way up US Route 60 towards Panhandle, Texas. A sign on the side of the road reads, Mama Lucy’s Country Store & Restaurant - Best Dagnabbit Coffee in Panhandle, Texas.

      The bus exits US 60 to a road just past the sign and, within minutes, pulls up into the dirt parking lot outside Mama Lucy’s. Curious onlookers, most attired in their Sunday best, stop and stare as the young, pretty female Deputy Karen Hollinger, rifle in hand, steps off the bus. She is followed by eight male inmates all dressed in prisoner’s chain-gang black and white. This group of eight is lastly followed out by the older, rotund Sheriff Arnold Baker who is also carrying a rifle.

      Now, Baker tells the criminals, This coffee and bathroom stop is outside of Corrections Protocol, but seeing since you boys did a good job cleaning up these highways over the past couple of days, and this being the Lord’s day an’ all, we think you folks deserve a break. Just don’t screw it up.

      As they walk single file into the restaurant, a little boy picks up a stone and throws it hard towards the group. Gordon Gabriel, an inmate in his 40’s, catches it deftly with his right hand almost as if he’d seen it coming from a mile away.

      You keep on like that, boy, Gordon scolds the kid, "and you’ll be in one of these suits in no time.

      I ain’t like you! the boy protests.

      Gordon smiles. Only time will tell. he throws the rock on the ground. The boy goes silent as the prisoners are escorted inside.

      It is bustling with activity within the confines of Mama Lucy’s Truck Stop Restaurant. This roomy establishment also sports a mini-mart, a souvenir gift section, and a handful of one-armed bandits. The inmates file past the diners and head towards two booths in the back. Prisoners Nos. 1 through 4 sit in one booth and the other four sit in the last booth by the back wall. The deputy & sheriff occupy seats at a booth just across the aisle from the inmates, their hands never leaving the clutch of their state-issued rifles. A few seconds later a young waitress comes over to the inmates’ booths carrying an armful of menus.

      Good morning, y’all, the waitress introduces herself. My name’s Deanna.

      They all say hello. She hands each person a menu and removes the reserved standee off each table.

      Anyone for coffee? she asks

      Oh yes, Prisoner No. 3 grins. I’ve been dying to sample some of that best dagnabbit coffee y’all got - according to y’all’s billboard.

      And it is, Deanna curtsies. Just y’all wait.

      She turns to the sheriff & deputy.

      Sheriff Baker! Boy, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Ain’t seen you in what, like, two months?

      Hey Sheila, Baker asks. How’s it going?

      Fine. The newspapers had you for dead, what with that ticker ‘an all.

      Yeah. Don’t write me out the book yet.

      The waitress turns to the deputy.

      I don’t think we’ve ever met before.

      They shake hands.

      Karen Hollinger, the deputy introduces herself. Got transferred over from Houston recently.

      Well, nice to meet ya, Karen. Any friend of Baker’s is a friend of mine. I’ll be right back for y’all’s order.

      She exits towards the kitchen. Prisoner No. 3 watches her walk away, eyeing her curves with devilish intent.

      Shoot, he licks his lips. I already know what I want.

      You just put a lid on it, you hear? Hollinger berates him.

      I’m scared of you, he grumbles under his breath.

      What was that? the deputy asks.

      Just leave them boys alone, Karen, the sheriff councils her. They don’t mean nothin’.

      I don’t like the way this one stares at me, Hollinger admits.

      Stop being so paranoid. He points to her rifle. You got Ol’ Jesse there keepin’ you company.

      Soon, Deanna returns pushing a cart containing three jugs of coffee, condiments, and wet naps. She places one jug on each table, reaches into her black waiter’s apron, and brings out a pencil and order pad.

      Y’all ready to order? she asks.

      The inmates all nod or say yes.

      Hey Sheriff, Prisoner No. 5 asks, What’s the limit?

      Six bucks each, he answers. We’re in a fiscal crisis, you know.

      Anything’s better than that prison slop we get, Prisoner No. 6 laments.

      The inmates order by numbers such as No. 4, no onions, No. 3 with mayo, No. 9, extra cheese, etc. After taking their orders, Deanna turns to the sheriff’s table.

      What about you two? she asks.

      You know, the sheriff admits, I ain’t been feeling m’self lately. I’ll just nurse this cup o’ Joe I got.

      Okay, the waitress nods.

      I’ll have a sesame bagel with cream cheese, Hollinger orders.

      Sure, no problem. Comin’ right up.

      Deanna grabs the serving cart and leaves for the kitchen.

      Mighty fine tart, that one, Prisoner No. 3 states.

      Remember the sanctity of this day, brother, Gordon advises him.

      Oh, what the hell, the prisoner protests, You’re gonna preach to me?

      They went out of their way to let us in here, Gordon schools him. Hospitality like that isn’t handed out often to people like us.

      Oh, man, Prisoner No. 3 rolls his eyes. I know what kinda pictures you got up on your wall.

      Gordon shakes his head. You can never wash the oil out of the frying pan, can you?

      Y’all keep it down over there, Hollinger warns them. She then turns to the sheriff. I still think this is a mistake.

      Yeah, I know, he relents. I’ve done this before. A little kindness and some of these fellas change their lives around. Let me guess –you don’t believe in change.

      That some of them can get their life together? I didn’t just get this uniform yesterday.

      And I’ve seen people change. I try to be optimistic.

      Hey, Sheriff, Prisoner No. 8 admits. I gotta use the bathroom.

      Hold it till we get back, the deputy tells him.

      It’s alright Karen. The sheriff states. I ain’t feeling so good m’self. Think I might have to go, too."

      He turns to Prisoner No. 8. Let’s go.

      The sheriff grabs his rifle, gets ups, and walks with Prisoner No. 8 up the aisle and out of sight around the corner to where the restrooms are.

      That motherfucker has the bladder of a mouse, Prisoner No. 7 says to no one in particular.

      Excuse you! Hollinger admonishes him.

      Sorry, he apologizes. My bad.

      Prisoner No. 3 turns to the deputy. You got to learn to relax, girl.

      Hollinger tightens her grip on her rifle, grits her teeth, and stares down the inmate. I ain’t no girl. Get that through your thick skull.

      Don’t mean no harm, sister, the prisoner cautiously tells her. We’re not level-one offenders, that’s why we’re the roadside cleanup crew.

      Well, don’t give me no lip and everything will be all right.

      Prisoner No. 3 shakes his head. Man, he whispers to another inmate, That’s one tough cookie. Probably ain’t been laid in weeks.

      What’d you say? Hollinger asks him, smoke practically flaring from her nostrils.

      Just then Deanna returns with their brunches on a serving cart and passes the plates out. The Sheriff and Prisoner No. 8 return from the bathroom just as the waitress is leaving. Within seconds everyone is face deep in their delicious Southern-fried meals. Gordon is the last to touch his plate because he first quietly says grace. The deputy notices this.

      You know, she wonders, I know you from somewhere. You look familiar.

      I’m not from these parts.

      Gordon Gabriel…can’t forget a name like that. Too biblical.

      I used to live in Nashville –Franklin, to be specific.

      Yep! That must be it. I used to go shopping in those malls down there. Must’ve seen you around.

      It’s where all the country stars live.

      I know that. That’s why I was there.

      You’re a singer?

      I try to be. Played Bluebird Café and all these places every week.

      And now here you are.

      And now here I am.

      Mm-mmm! Prisoner No. 3 interrupts. This here breakfast is the best thing I ever tasted since Mary Lou sat on my face last Christmas!

      Mind your manners, Hollinger warns him.

      You grew up in a sewer, boy? Gordon asks, rhetorically. Offended, Prisoner No. 3 starts to rise.

      Y’all just simmer down now, the sheriff deflates their tempers. We’re in public.

      Prisoner No. 3 sits down.

      "He’s the poster

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