by Inmon, Shawn
Moondog was amused. He had never seen Charles could be excited about anything.
When they made it back to their condos, Charles said, “I’m going to call Sarah. I think she’ll want to be in on this.”
“The chance to work long hours for no pay? Who wouldn’t?”
“The chance to actually feel good about a day’s work?”
“I know, brother. I’m just teasing you about it. I’m glad to be a part of it.”
Half an hour later, Charles knocked on Moondog’s door and as soon as he answered, he said, “She’s in. I knew she would be. When she helped me out on the trail that very first life, I knew she was a kind person. She said she’s got her grandmother’s bread and rolls recipes from the old country. She’ll be our baker!”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
CHARLES’ MONTH-LONG leave of absence seemed like a long stretch when he asked for it. After all, his previous lifetimes had all been shorter than that.
With a life of an unknown duration facing him, though, those thirty days slipped by too quickly.
He, Moondog, and Sarah had worked hard on the restaurant, but even hiring out the more involved work using Moondog’s contractor friend, they were nowhere near to opening.
When he wasn’t in the restaurant cleaning, straightening and planning, Charles walked around Middle Falls. He still carried a pocketful of cash, even though he could no longer be assured he had plenty of money for everything. When he met someone who was hungry, he either bought them a meal or gave them money to do so if they wanted.
He told each person of need he met about the restaurant.
A few days before he was scheduled to return to Graystone Insurance to work, one of those people he had talked to showed up and knocked on the door. It was almost December and it was freezing cold in Middle Falls. It was a dirty and unkempt man in his mid-fifties.
Charles answered the door.
“Is this the place that’s going to feed the people who don’t have enough to eat?”
“Yes, but as you can see, we’re a little behind schedule. We won’t be opening for a few weeks.”
“That’s fine,” the man said. “You gave me twenty dollars to eat on the other day. I wanted to see if I could come and do some work for you to earn it.”
Charles was unprepared for the offer, but he said, “Yes, of course. Your name was Zeke, wasn’t it? Come in, I’ll introduce you to Moondog and Sarah—they are my partners.”
Zeke was the first of the volunteer laborers, but was nowhere near the last. On most days they were working, they had anywhere from three to six people helping. These were homeless people, and many had issues with drugs or alcohol, but they also had skills and were happy to be making a contribution.
That sped the process up substantially and by December 15, just as a big storm was preparing to blow into town, they were ready to open.
Charles, Sarah and Moondog had long debated what to call their place. Charles’ first instinct was to name it after his mother. Moondog thought something a little more modern might work.
They compromised by calling it Esther’s Dine and Dash. Charles was clueless about what a dine and dash was, but Moondog promised him it was appropriate to their cause.
They planned their opening day menu for weeks. They had no delusions about being able to operate with a full menu. Instead, they planned to offer three choices each day and include a salad and bread.
On opening day, they offered chicken and rice soup, lasagna, and a taco bar. Sarah and Moondog were the cooks. Charles acted as host and waiter, making sure everyone’s drinks were filled and that everyone had a doggy bag at the end of the meal to take a little with them. They didn’t discriminate against anyone—if they were hungry, they got fed.
Charles was surprised to see how many professionals came from the downtown area to eat. Alice Harkins even popped in to say hello, although she didn’t stay.
They thought they had enough food for lunch and dinner. Instead, they were cleaned out by 3:00 and forced to shut their doors.
There was no cash register, of course, but they did have a Folgers’ Coffee can at the end of the line that simply said, “Tips.” Charles hadn’t seen anyone put anything in it, so he assumed it was empty. When they finally had to shut the doors, though, Moondog waved him over and handed him a wad of bills and checks.
Altogether, there was more than $400 in the Folgers’ can. That was actually more than they had spent on the meals that day.
“We are not a very good non-profit,” Moondog said. “We are running at a profit.”
“Maybe this means we can buy more and feed more.”
“I will stir food and clean pots and pans until my arms fall off,” Sarah said. “I can’t ever remember having this much fun.”
Initially, they were only open twice a week—on Mondays and Thursdays. Eventually, they added Wednesdays and Fridays, too.
When they had been open a few weeks—just before Christmas—a man who appeared to be in his early twenties came in with an attractive young woman. They went through the line and when Charles came around to fill their water glasses, he noticed that the young man had a horrific birthmark that covered the entire left side of his face.
While Charles filled their glasses, the young man said, “This is a very good thing you are doing.”
“It is,” Charles agreed. “It is very good for us.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I’m Joe. Joe Hart. This is my friend Sam.”
“Nice to meet you. Glad you’re here. I hope you’ll come back whenever you’re hungry.”
“I haven’t had food this good since Mrs. Fornowski moved to Southern California.”
The young woman said, “Hey!” and threw her napkin at Joe.
“You are beautiful and talented, just not in the kitchen.” Joe turned to Charles and said, “Sam is the brains of our operation. She’s helped me build the Oasis on the outskirts of town.”
Charles’ walks had never taken him that far or in that direction, so he had no idea what The Oasis was.
He thanked Joe and Sam again for coming and scurried off to take care of the other tables.
That night, after they were shut down, Moondog called Charles to the back once again.
“I think you need to take a look at this,” Moondog said, holding out a check.
“Why is it different than any other check we get every day?”
“Take a look.”
Charles took the check and squinted at it in the semi-darkness of the closed restaurant.
In the upper left corner, it said “The Rodrigo Hart Oasis.” It was signed by Joe Hart. The payee was left blank, but the amount was made out for one hundred thousand dollars. The memo line said, “Let me know if you need more.”
Charles nodded at Moondog, who was smiling at him like a madman. Sarah was dabbing at her eyes.
Charles wandered to a table and sat down with a thump. He looked at the check again, then allowed himself a smile.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
CHARLES WATERS’ LAST life was not short at all.
He lived another thirty-one years after he woke up in Dr. Masin’s office that last time.
He never knew another sick day in all those years.
Charles, Sarah, and Moondog ran Esther’s Dine and Dash for fifteen more years. They moved from the small café where they started to a newer, larger spot in 1993. With the turn of the century, they brought more and more of the former homeless and unemployed in to run the place until they were barely needed at all.
In 1995, Charles and Moondog sold their respective condos. Sarah had sold her house years before to move closer to her new friends. They pooled their resources and bought a large old Victorian home on the edge of town. The three of them lived there, platonically and happily, for many more years.
Moondog was the first to leave the others. In 2012, he developed a cough that became severe and could not be cured. A visit to the doctor revealed the cause—lung cancer.
/> When he found out he was going to die, he turned to Charles, who was there with him in the doctor’s office. Charles remembered only too well what it was like to receive devastating news when you are all alone.
Moondog turned to him and said, “You said it’s not that bad, right? Dying?”
Charles held his friend’s hand and said, “No, it’s not too bad.”
“Maybe I will wake up somewhere in the past, too, and I can harass you with stories of our adventures together.”
“Please try,” Charles said. “But I won’t believe you. That’s your grace, I’m afraid, not mine.”
Moondog died in Middle Falls Hospice in September, 2012.
He left a more-than-Moondog-sized hole in both Charles and Sarah’s lives.
Things were never the same without him, but the two of them did everything they could to get the most out of each day they had on Earth.
In 2015, Charles finally succumbed to the travel bug. He got his passport and he and Sarah traveled the world for the next few years.
Every time they saw something beautiful, or comic, Sarah would say, “Moondog would have loved this.”
And Charles would say, “But he never would have wanted to leave Middle Falls to see it.”
And they both knew both things were true.
On Halloween day, 2019, Charles and Sarah were home.
Charles started the day by making them a pot of tea he had imported from the Philippines. It was his favorite.
They sat together on the front porch, looking out at the street below their house.
“Another beautiful Middle Falls October day,” Sarah said, looking at the rain dripping off the front of the porch.
“Would we want it any other way?”
Inside, the digital clock on the living room wall could be seen from any seat. It glowed a red 10:45.
Outside, Charles Waters closed his eyes for the final time.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
CHARLES WATERS OPENED his eyes.
He was not in Dr. Masin’s office. He was no longer on Earth.
He was in a completely white room
Beside him was a young woman with long blonde hair and another young woman with long, pitch-black hair.
Sitting on the blonde woman’s shoulder was the loveliest bird Charles had ever seen.
Author’s Note
SIGH.
Is it weird that I feel emotional, having just written the last line of the Middle Falls series?
Weird or not, emotions are weighing heavily on me at this moment.
I have grown up as a writer while writing the Middle Falls Time Travel Series. I spent two and a half years of my creative output on creating this universe, these people. Stretched end to end, it comes to almost a million words.
Thank you for having joined me on this journey of discovery.
Is it absolutely the last line of the Middle Falls series? No, of course not.
I could change my mind early next year, be inspired once again, and have a great story idea hit me out of the blue as has happened so often in the past.
Some time will have to pass before that happens, though. I already have my next four books planned out.
Some of the moments from this series will stay with me forever. Many of them are the small, quiet moments that resonate in my mind long after writing them.
Carrie singing Amazing Grace to Thomas in the church. The first time Thomas entered Michael’s cave, scared to death.
Michael, holding the knife and looking for his courage as his father’s shadow loomed outside his door.
Dominick, sitting in his ’67 Chevelle SuperSport, finally old enough (again) to set out looking for Emily, who is also Emellion.
Nathaniel, sitting in his basement music studio, making music I can hear in my head, but don’t have the ability to translate to this world.
Veronica, waking up for the first time in the Weaver’s living room.
Joe Hart battling mosquitoes and walking along the darkened trail beside Mt. St. Helens, looking for his friends.
Ten-year-old Scott McKenzie creeping down the hall in his parent’s house, so frightened he is nearly paralyzed.
Cassandra up on stage, singing Not for Marching at the music festival.
Ned, living so happily in the cabin in the woods at the end of Hairy Man Road.
Rebecca and Duncan eating at the open-air restaurant in the Florida Keys.
Jack jumping to catch that football, at peace with the world.
And Charles, so painstakingly learning to be human one short life at a time.
I will carry these memories and hundreds more with me into whatever I write next.
Speaking of ‘next’ up next will be a rewrite of my first two books – Feels Like the First Time and Both Sides Now.
Why revisit these older books? There’s a number of reasons. When I wrote them, I always envisioned them as a single volume—my story and Dawn’s story intertwined. I wasn’t capable of writing them that way in 2012, so I split them into two volumes. Now, I’ll collect them into one book, as I’ve always felt they should be.
The other reason is that I am a better writer now than I was seven years ago. Those stories were wonderful, but each time I picked one up, I saw a lot of missed opportunities. I want to fix that and make the books as good as I possibly can.
After that I have a portal fiction trilogy planned. What’s portal fiction, you ask?
It’s where a character steps from one reality into another, typically with no scientific explanation. Think The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, or Stephen King’s 11/22/63.
In my story, a man will be working on remodeling his basement when he finds a door that shouldn’t be there. On the other side of the door is the future. Specifically, 100,000 years in the future.
When I was young, I loved the stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert Howard. Adventure stories. I intend to do my best to write a story like that. I hope to have it out before the end of the year, although it might push over into January.
If you would always like to be in the loop about what I have coming up next, please subscribe to my New Release Newsletter. I only send it out when I have a new book out. And, often, when I send those emails, I attach a free story that is exclusive to my subscribers.
So many people have helped me with these books over the last three years, I barely know where to begin.
Terry Schott, who is the first person to read every word I write, is absolutely invaluable to my process. Every time I take a step off the path, he prods me gently back on. These books would not have been anywhere near as good without him.
Linda Boulanger did a perfect job of capturing Charles for this cover, as she has done so often.
Debra Galvan and Mark Sturgill were again my first line of defense against my typos and other errors. They did a magnificent job as always. Dan Hilton served as a combination of proofreader and editor and did his normal outstanding job. Finally, Marta Rubin ferreted out a number of other mistakes. All remaining errors are mine alone.
The Middle Falls Time Travel Series
The Unusual Second Life of Thomas Weaver
The Redemption of Michael Hollister
The Life and Death of Dominick Davidner
The Final Life of Nathaniel Moon
The Emancipation of Veronica McAllister
The Changing Lives of Joe Hart
The Vigilante Life of Scott McKenzie
The Reset Life of Cassandra Collins
The Tribulations of Ned Summers
The Empathetic Life of Rebecca Wright
The Successful Life of Jack Rybicki
The Many Short Lives of Charles Waters
nds
