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. 

Joy of Writing - Story 1

It was Tuesday, but I was not expecting anything to be happening today. I had been told that it was a day off from work, so I was relaxing without having to do the usual work from home stuff. But just as my coffee was finally finishing from the Aero Press the door bell rang. Odd, no one ever comes to see me anymore since I was diagnosed. 

I slowly got up and shuffled to the door and looked out through the peep hole. There was no-one there. Looking out again just in case, I really could not see anyone, so I slowly opened the door leaving the security chain in place. I still could not see anyone, so I took the chain off and opened the door fully.

There, in front of me was a beautiful redhead in a black suit. 

 “Are you Logan Murphy?” She asked looking at a tablet in her hand. 

 “Yea, at least I think I still am.” I replied puzzled at how she suddenly appeared there. 

 “And you have been waiting for a cure for a while I suspect.” She said tapping on her tablet. 

 “I don’t understand, “ I said confused, “ I thought my condition was incurable and I was to be isolated here forever. “ 

 “Well that has all changed, and I was sent to get you. Can you be ready in 10 minutes, a car has been ordered.” 

 “What do you mean?” I exclaimed “I have no idea what to do, I wasn’t prepared for anything like this. Is there really a cure?” 

 The redhead just stood there “Listen, you need to come with me immediately, I don’t know any more than you do, I was just sent to get you. They told me not to worry about infection, so I assume there must be a cure. 

 At this point, I realized that I really did not care about anything else. I had reconciled myself to living on my own in my little government supplied apartment for the few years I had left and doing their menial “Work”. Now this girl was telling me I might have a second chance. 

 “I’m ready, let’s go I exclaimed, this is amazing. Where do we have to go? 

 “I have no idea, I am only the messenger, the car is downstairs waiting for us.” She explained. 

 As I closed the door and locked it, I realized that I had not been out of the apartment for five years, and I had no idea what to expect. We walked down the hallway and she called the elevator which took us down to the lobby. Outside, a silver car stood at the curb with the back door open. 

As I got in, the door closed and I heard a loud hiss as the compartment was sealed.