Joy of Writing - Story Six - Mystery

The library was closing in 15 minutes, so I decided to quickly pick out a book to take home with me. I was sort of leaning towards a good mystery story. I spent a few minutes  looking through the mysteries but could not find anything that really interested me, so I wandered around some other aisles, to see if I could find anything I might like to read. 

The romance section was crowded with teenagers giggling about the titles, but I really did not expect to find anything there. 

I spent a few minutes in the non-fiction area but then noticed a table with a display of local authors. There I found a book on local history that I thought might be interesting, but then noticed the author’s name. OMG, I went to school with her, she was such a lame student. 

Time was running out when I noticed that there was a cookbook section and a quick search revealed a book on “Mysterious cooking” featuring recipes that appeared in famous mystery stories. Perfect, I could be eating what Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot ate. This was a great choice, I picked the book up and carried it to the check out computer. 

I scanned the back cover on the automated check-out system and got a message that the book was not in the library. Obviously a mistake, so I went to the actual librarian, who also got the same message. Looking confused, she went to her computer and typed the title in. 

“Well this is a mystery, I’m sorry, I don’t know what is wrong. The computer says this book is signed out by some unknown patron who doesn’t even seem to be in the system as having a library card. I’ll have to do it by hand since this book is obviously actually here.”

Perfect, I did say I wanted a good mystery.

Winter In Toronto

This is my third winter in Toronto and 2023, 2024 were not really that wintery, in 2023 there was hardly any snow at all and last year we got only one bad snowfall. But it appears that Toronto was just lulling me into a false sense of calm, because this year the city really got a winter! The snowstorm on January 25th dumped enough snow to break records for not only the single day’s snowfall but also for the entire winter. And we still have a few days left in the season. 

Now I am not new to winter; I grew up in Moncton New Brunswick and we regularly got snowdrifts of over 6 feet, and I recall digging snow tunnels through them that lasted for weeks. One year when we lived on a farm outside of Moncton we got so much snow in one storm that they were unable to plow our long driveway with a regular truck, and we had to wait days until a farmer down the road came with a new-fangled thing called a snow-blower on the front of his large tractor, and even with this he had to dig into the drift, back out and let the snow collapse and run at it again. So although I did know how to deal with lots of snow, years living in Nova Scotia I got used to snow that fell, froze, melted and then repeated, never really amounting to much. 

But as I get older, I have discovered that I do not really like winter; I have definitely become a summer, hot weather person, so the move to a 9th floor Toronto condo where snow became someone else’s problem, and, I could just ignore it and stay inside while I waited for spring to arrive once more. I do not own a snow shovel, all 10 of them in various sizes and configurations were left behind in Nova Scotia. My car does not have snow tires, because it is a little convertible that sleeps all winter in the warm underground garage and does not emerge from hibernation until all traces of salt are washed away by spring rain. 

But of course I can’t completely ignore winter, as I do have to go out for groceries and wine, so I have winter boots and warm clothes, and if you dress appropriately winter can be weathered.

Now with the heavy snowfall of the latest winter storm, I watched from the comfortable warmth of my condo as the roof next door got piled with snow and even my balcony developed drifts of the white stuff. Of course the newscasts were making a big thing of how bad the conditions were, so when the snowstorm stopped the next morning and the city’s crews had started cleaning up, I found I wanted to go out and see just what Toronto was like after a serious hit of Winter, so I dressed warmly, put on my L.L. Bean Slush boots and decided to go for a short walk to have a look about. 

Well, that short walk turned into a long 8 km hike through the city. I found I was really enjoying walking and experiencing the city as it dug itself out from the 60 Cm of snow. As I walked the streets I glanced around and saw things differently covered in snow. Long Icicles hung from building, and everything looked cleaner covered in a blanket of white.  I ended up walking not only my neighbourhood, but right down to the Waterfront. 

I discovered some streets were cleared nicely but others were a complete mess and had not been plowed yet, and sidewalks were every possible configuration. If there was a responsible business on the sidewalk it was likely shovelled, and sprinkled with ice-melt so was completely clear, Neighbourhood sidewalks in front of ordinary houses were a mix of careful cleaning to minimal pathways and on occasion when I came upon deserted or abandoned building I was required to walk through deep snow, actually breaking ground to create a new pathway for others to follow. 

Back in Nova Scotia if it snows, all vehicles have to be removed from the streets to allow cleaning, but here in Toronto, they sell street parking passes and some cars sit incased in ice and snow until everything melts in the spring. I saw whole streets solidly lined with snow covered cars. Their owners must have decided that Public transit was a better option than digging their own cars out. 

When I got to the waterfront I discovered that the lake was completely frozen over and looking from Sugar Beach I wondered what those folks who actually live on the island do when this happens, but a walk down to the ferry terminal showed that somehow they had broken a pathway through the ice and the ferry with struggling through heavy packed ice towards the island probably delivering those needed groceries and wine. Even the subway ride home was different with warnings about sections where trains had been cancelled because in places the subway was not submerged the snow buildup had not been cleared yet so buses were the only option. 

So I did have an interesting walk through Toronto’s  winter, but seriously . . . bring on spring!

Joy of Writing, Story Five - But It's Rose?

The General Motors dealership was just down the road, so instead of getting a drive she walked there to pick up the new Corvette that she had been informed had finally arrived on the last transport. She had special ordered the car months ago with the exact options she wanted and was looking forward to the looks she would get driving around in her fancy new car. 

It took her 20 minutes to get there but she knew that driving that lovely car back would be more than enough reward for the walk. She found herself looking at every car parked on the side of the road as she made her way to the dealership. 

A Mustang . . . no big deal, 

A Cadillac,  . .so what . . . . ,

An Acura, . . . damn imports,

An old blue something  . . . . who cares, I don’t even now what it is. 

She had dissed fifteen cars before she reached the dealership. 

It took her a few minutes to find her salesperson who was chatting up another prospective customer, and she was a bit upset when she wasn’t recognized right away . . . Really, don’t they keep track of their important customers . . . especially the ones buying fancy Corvettes. 

“Yes Lucy, your car is all ready to go, it’s out back all prepped, cleaned, polished, and warmed up, lets go check it out.” The salesperson said proudly.”I’m sure you will be very happy with it.”

They walked through the showroom and around the side of the building to the back lot, where her new red Corvette was supposed to be waiting. She looked left and right and did not see any red cars. There was two Corvettes but none that were red.

“I don’t see my car.” Lucy exclaimed, “Where is it?”

The salesperson pointed over to a large black pickup, “Yea, it’s right there behind the truck.”

Lucy walked over and there was a Corvette there all right . . . a bright pink one.

“What do you mean, that is not the car I ordered!”,  she exclaimed angrily. 

“Yes it is, that is your car, that is what you ordered.“.

“No, I specially ordered a bright red Corvette and that one is definitely pink.”

The Salesperson pulled out an order form and read the order, “Yes, it says right here you ordered the bright rose colour option, and that was a special order so you have to take it. “

“But roses are red;  violets are blue, I thought bright rose was red”. 

Joy Of Writing - Story 4 - The Streetcar

My handy little transit app said that the streetcar was supposed to arrive in six minutes, but I seem to have been waiting for at least 15, so I did not know where it was. The transit system is usually pretty reliable and I use it all the time, but every so often something goes wrong, a medical emergency, an unruly passenger, a mechanical problem or a blocked track; You never know. I was just planning to go explore a new part of the city, so I wasn’t in any real serious time crunch, but really how slow was the Transit system today? 

Then just as I was about to give up and start walking I saw the streetcar coming down the road, so I decided to wait. It arrived at the stop and slowly pulled to a stop beside the shelter. The doors slid open and suddenly it seemed that everyone who was in the car spilled out onto the street; there must be some sort of special event in the neighbourhood as this is not usually a busy stop and I was the only passenger waiting to get on. Being a polite transit user, I waited patiently until everyone exited the car and I was just about to climb into the car when I smelled the most god-awful stench coming from the car. Now I knew why everyone got out and probably why the car’s arrival was so late. Something awful must have happened on that tram.

I stepped back in surprise when the cloud of purple gas oozed out of the doors and slowly spread across the street  and onto the sidewalk.  

Perhaps it really was a better choice to walk today.

Not Mark!

I am back on a cruise ship after a few years practicing being a landlubber, and a lot of things have changed, but some have stayed the same. 

For example, we started out on ships with 1000 passengers, while this one, the Sun Princess, has over 4000. You wouldn’t think with that many people enjoying a vacation in the Caribbean sunshine that you would run into the same people multiple times, but it does happen, and when it is a case of persistent mistaken identity it becomes a story for this blog. 

One evening on the first day, we were watching one of the many activities in the large Atrium in the centre of the ship, when a couple approached us and started talking to me about something I knew nothing about. Looking puzzled, I said, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Yea, Mark,  we were talking in the lineup to get registered, remember it’s Beth & Tony from Boston.”

Well, I am getting old, and perhaps my memory isn’t what it was when I could remember the names of all 350 students in my school and most of their little siblings, but I knew I had not chatted with Beth & Tony from Boston.

“I’m sorry, but I am not Mark, my name is Art and I'm  from Toronto.”

She gently reached out and touched my arm, “Ha Ha Mark, that’s very funny I’ll see you around, say hello to Martha for me.”, and away she went down towards the buffet.

On day two, I ran into the same lady again, and I was suddenly "Mark" once more. I was thanked for a lovely time with drinks last night in the Crooners Bar. Well we did have drinks in the Crooners, but it was before dinner not the evening, and it was not with Beth & Tony. “Listen, “ I said, "I really am not Mark, my name really is Art and I did not have drinks with you last night.”

The poor lady really did look confused, “Mark, are you serious, you must have a twin on the boat then.”

“Yes, seriously I am not Mark, I’m sorry but you really must have me mixed up with someone else, my name is Art not Mark.”

“That is amazing, you really must have a twin on the boat.” She said, and I thought she must finally believe me. 

On day three, another of the sea days that I enjoy so much, I was standing in line waiting for a cup of Strawberry Sorbet, and I noticed the same lady in line behind me waiting to order, and when she finished putting her request in, she came over to me and said, “We really do have to stop meeting like this.”

Well, I assumed she now knew I was Art and not the mysterious Mark, so I simply replied “That is very true, I agree.”

“But,” She replied, I really do need to thank you for pulling Tony’s butt out of the soup last night, he completely forgot to bring the Christmas lights I had put out for him; it was so good of you to lend him that string of lights. We will make sure to get them back to you.”

“I’m sorry, but again, I have no idea what you are talking about. I am not Mark, I am Art, And I did not lend Tony any Christmas lights.” I told her - she obviously did not believe me last time so I added. “Ok, look, come over here and wait for my order to come up, I ordered strawbeerry sorbet and he is going to do it now. Listen when he calls me name.”

Sure enough, the server came over with my strawberry sorbet and announced “ARTHUR”, and I took my nice cold sorbet. “See,”, I said, ‘Arthur’ or ‘Art’ for short, not ‘Mark’. So I guess if you want to return the lights, you will have to look for someone who looks exactly like me, but answers to the name ‘Mark’.”.

Now I suppose she could be stalking me for some reason, but I have encountered her three times in three days on a boat carrying 4000 vacationing passengers, and I am yet to come around a corner and come face to face with someone who looks exactly like me.  . . . . . And I do wonder if the next time I see her it will be as “Mark” or as “Art”.

Joy of Writing - Story -3 - Mad House

Today he found the walk through the park was a bit odder than usual. There were the usual homeless folk hanging around in their group in the circle, and the fellow in the motorized chair was as usual holding court by his park bench, but there seems to be a seriously increased level of security all over the park. He wondered what was going on. He looked at the bench out by the entrance and the old lady who usually sat there reading was gone; she was always there. Very odd. Then he noticed that there was a crowd over by the garden centre and they seemed to be dancing wildly to music in their heads. 

Walking over to one of the security people he asked what was going on. 

“We are not sure, but that group is getting everyone very much on on edge, It is almost like they are from the Mad House or something.”

He decided the only thing to do was to actually go ask them so he walked over to the group who had now stopped dancing and were speaking in a rather agitated manner to each other. Tapping one of them on the back he asked,  “What is this all about?”

The young lady turned to him and he stepped back in shock, Her face was painted a brilliant green and he then noticed that most of the crowd sported the same kind kind of facial colouring. She however smiled and said is a cheerful voice, “Oh didn’t you get the memo, the provincial government has finally called the election and we are just celebrating; we are all voting GREEN this year.”

Story 2 - Doors?

There is no way out of this room I find myself in. In fact I don’t even see any doors or windows at all, but I’m sure there was a door when I came in, there had to be. But I look around and I do not see any way out. In fact, thinking about it I must have come in through a door, but there is none now. This is a real mystery, Maybe I am dreaming I can’t be in a room with no way out. 

Then just as I was starting to panic, a section of the room that was in shadow was lit up by a bright light from the ceiling and there in the corner was a concealed door. Finally I had a way to escape; I admit it, I was a little worried for a while. I got up and walked over to the door and it opened as I approached, but walking through I realized that I was then in a room identical to the one I just left and the door I came through was the only door in this room.