Snipet # 12

Percy Cooper was born on a clear, sunny day in July seventeen years ago, so he didn't really understand the effect the wind could have on a person's soul. He knew one thing, however, and that was that Evelyn had the spirit of the Wolf within her, and he longed to feel that warmth. He just knew it was warm and he wanted to have a piece of that fire for himself.

Percy was his parents only child, and being raised by these two cool, methodical people was rather like living in a walk in freezer with only hanging slabs of meat for companionship. His parents loved him, of that he had no doubt, yet they failed over the years to bestow upon him any physical affection or words of love and encouragement. They were too busy working, praying and keeping the hunger at bay. They trusted that Percy had a good, solid head on his shoulders, that they had raised him well and that he no longer needed their attention. A parent should know you don't cease to watch over your children when they grow older. That's when they really need you, when they are stepping out into the world and seeing the wider scope of things. But Percy's parents had forgotten that there actually was a great big world out there, so they failed to realize that Percy was treading on dangerous ground, even if he was only doing this, at the moment, in his imagination. If they had payed attention, they may have remembered their own youthful disappointment when they discovered that this was it, that there was no grand adventure somewhere beyond the rainbow. Actually, that's most likely why they didn't pay attention. It would have reminded them that beyond their table full of food was a crater in their bellies that could not be filled.

Percy became hungry the day he first noticed Evelyn's fire, and he wasn't afraid of it. It felt good to yearn with such intensity. He felt alive for the first time, and he longed to swallow her whole.

Snipet #11

Willow Falls was a town where most days were as predictable as a turkey dinner on Thanksgiving. There wasn't much diversity, there wasn't much rule bending or breaking, even from the teenagers there. Most everyone did as was expected of them, even if it left their stomachs aching, just because it was the thing to do. Evelyn didn't take well to self induced torture, and found it more pleasant to do things her own way, much to the dismay of the residents of Willow Falls.

Parents discouraged their daughters from becoming Evelyn's friend, as she was considered a bad influence. She was different and didn't care about it at all. She flaunted her uniqueness and it frightened most folks in town enough to shy away from her. Some of the young people wanted to get to know her, but suppressed that desire as easily as they suppressed most of their feelings. Most youngsters in Willow Falls wore what their parents told them to, ate what was placed in front of them and washed behind their ears without being told. Most of these children, unlike most kids their age, had never felt cold slimy mud between their toes, had never ate raw rhubarb stolen from their neighbors garden, nor had they dreamed of anything other than what they were told was acceptable. Evelyn had done all these things, and she wore her defiance like a red cloak on a grey day. It's not that Evelyn was a bad girl, because her heart knew compassion and her conscience was a voice she listened to. It was only that her spirit was wild and windblown and couldn't be satisfied. That hardly makes a person bad, it just makes them different, and different is only considered bad if you live in Willow Falls. Unfortunately for Evelyn, that's exactly where she landed when the wind died down on the day she was born, and it was hard to convince anyone of her loving nature. They only saw her strange eyes and one too many fingers and they were convinced the devil had been visited upon them. Only one person in town had the nerve to admit that they were just a bit jealous of Evelyn's freedom and that they longed to look into her wild, unpredictable eyes and that was Percy Cooper.

Percy's parents, William and Irene, ran The Red Button General Store in town as Irene's parents had done before her. They lived their lives with the same cool efficiency most people in Willow Falls did. Their routine was flawless and without deviation. Their store opened promptly at 6:00 am everyday, save for Sunday, which was reserved for worship and family time. Percy didn't remember a day when his parents were too ill to open the store. Percy didn't remember any day or week or month that didn't seem like all the rest, until the day he saw Evelyn for the first time. Percy knew her since they were children, but the day he first really saw her was one he would never forget. It was the day the wind returned to Willow Falls and stirred up memories and brought to the surface unwanted emotions. It was a storm unlike any that had been seen in recent history. Percy didn't know it was Evelyn's 13th birthday at the time, or that this storm was just like the one that raged the day she was born.

The day the wind returned had been pleasant enough, but as dusk had begun to settle things changed. Night was fast approaching as the wind chimes on front porches began to ring and rattle. The skies opened and the storm touched every blade of grass within 3 miles of the General Store. Everyone ran for cover, except for Evelyn. She was drenched, her cotton dress clinging to her in ways Percy only imagined a cotton dress could cling to a young body. She was fearless, running through the storm, laughing as he sat quietly on the porch of the store. She noticed him there, looked toward him and stopped running. She just looked at him, or rather, stared, as the rain poured down on her and the wind threatened to knock her over. Her black hair seemed to be a wild river spread across half her face and back. Her eyes were ablaze and it almost frightened him, but he could not look away. Then she burst out in laughter, and turned away as if she hadn't seen him at all, as if she hadn't just stopped and looked right through him. That was the day Percy decided that if he could have only one thing in the world, it would be Evelyn, and he would sell his soul to have her.

Snipet #10

Evelyn grew up quickly, or so it seemed to her mother. One day she was toddling about the house, knocking things over and the next, she was a young lady. Through those years, Sara had marveled at how calm the weather had been, how peaceful it was. But nothing lasts forever, and it was on Evelyn's 13th birthday that the wind returned with a vengeance.

The day had started out like most other Saturdays, with chores to do around the house. Evelyn and her mother always spent their Saturday mornings doing laundry and cleaning those things that had been neglected for a week.

Evelyn loved to tidy up her room. She would dust the furniture, search through her jewelry box, alphabetize the books on her shelf, and then take them down again and sort them by author and then go back and alphabetize again . It seemed to her she was putting her life in order by putting things in order. Evelyn liked it that way in her room because it gave her the feeling of warmth and safety. Touching all these beloved things also gave her a sense of connection with the past, with her ancestors whose belongings were bestowed on her by her mother. She had her grandmothers radio, her great aunt's attempt at a self portrait and her mother's ruby ring. It didn't matter to Evelyn that the radio hadn't worked in years or the self portrait was poorly executed or that the ring needed cleaning. These were her precious things. They were her reminders of a time she couldn't possibly remember but of which she felt an intense connection. That was one of the things about Evelyn that made people uncomfortable. She seemed to be part of another time and she just didn't quite fit in. She seemed to walk on the fringes of reality, touching both sides of things and feeling equally at home in both.

She was all light and energy. She was full of abundant magic. She was a force of nature that the inhabitants of Willow Falls had never experienced. Even the wind could not compare.

Perspective

I made a long overdue phone call to a friend who is recuperating from extensive back surgery today, and I must say that I feel like crying. I am writing this now to try to get it out of me in a productive way.

She's young, she has two beautiful daughters and a loving husband. She's well educated and liked by everyone who knows her. She has had a few setbacks in her life, as we all have, but this is taking its toll on her. She had a tumor growing on her spine, thankfully benign, however, the surgery was so extensive, the recuperation time is considerable. She's an active woman, as most moms are, and I think that the sitting around all day is just as difficult for her to handle as is the physical pain. I feel for her, as I sit here now, surrounded by co-workers and telephones ringing and work to do. I have purpose here, although I sometimes get angry when I'm here because I'd rather be anywhere else. She's lost her purpose, really. She has always been a dedicated employee, working well beyond what was expected of her and now she sits, and waits and prays. She's scared, and who can blame her. She's probably angry too, and I also can't blame her for feeling that way. That's really why I called her....to break up her day, to give her someone to talk to if she needed to. But now I feel her around me, I feel her pain and isolation. I feel her fear, and I'm distracted by it.

I wish there were something I could do to alleviate her pain, but obviously, I'm not capable of doing that. I wish I could give her hope. I wish I could help her see the end of this difficult journey. I wish she were making plans to cook a Thanksgiving dinner.

I'm putting this in perspective here....I am apprehensive about cooking a dinner for my family, but truthfully, I think it's great that I have the opportunity to be doing that. It's a privilege really, and I know that. All she wants is to play with her daughter, and she can't walk around without assistance. I do my best not to moan about my aches and pains, and thinking of this woman, I try even harder, as she knows REAL pain. We all have our turn suffering. We all have our cross to carry, but right now, her cross is heavier than mine and my heart goes out to her. When I think to myself that I wish there were something I can do, well, I think there is. I can call her and remind her we're thinking of her. I can pray for her, that she finds peace. There is something I can do. There usually is.

When I pray tonight I will add a prayer for my friend that she finds hope and holds on to it.

Hope is all we have, really.

Snipet #9

No one other than her mother gave much thought to Evelyn as she grew. She was just another fixture in the landscape of Willow Falls. Not that people didn't notice her unique ways, but as was tradition, they found a way to ignore it and more importantly, to ignore her. As they turned a blind eye to their unhappiness, they ignored the way she seemed to be able to talk to animals. Just as they forgot their dreams, they didn't give a second thought when they saw her out in a rain storm, laughing and dancing. As they disregarded their own pain, they never gave a thought to hers. They cleaned, built, repaired, taught, and doctored as their respective jobs dictated, but they rarely felt anything at all. On rare occasions the wind blew through the sleepy town, and forced the inhabitants of Willow Falls into a state of semi-wakefulness, but these times were few and far between. The wind rarely demonstrated it's full power since the day of Evelyn's birth. A light breeze here, a mild spring zephyr there, but nothing profound and life changing. But with or without the wind, a change was coming.

When Evelyn was around, the wind was always there, just under the surface. Looking into her eyes forced you to pay attention. That was why she had no friends, no one spoke to her except when they had to, and no one could tell you what color her eyes were, since they never dared to look there. If they did, they would be forced to see themselves, and that was something none of them were willing to do.

Snipet #8

Evelyn woke Sara most nights at 1:00 and 4:00 a.m. for feedings. It was this time that Sara loved the most. She thought of it as her special time, and while many mothers may have balked at having to wake up twice a night to feed a hungry baby, Sara found the time to be peaceful and calming. The world was quiet, the only sounds were the crickets and an occasional train off in the distance. She would take Evelyn to the rocking chair near her bedroom window and while she fed her, she would dream about Evelyn's future.

She pictured her as a toddler, racing about the house knocking things over. She imagined her as a young girl, picking wildflowers in the meadow beside the house. She saw her as a teenager, struggling to find herself, fumbling along with new experiences. She imagined all the possibilities during these late night feedings and even ran through imaginary conversations they might have one day, the confidences they might share, even the arguments that might occur. These late night rambles through what might be were what sustained the tired mother through the first months of her baby's life.

One thing that Sara never imagined during all these quiet moments was that the wind might return. It was as if she had forgotten the wind existed. It was as if her man had never been. It appeared that the wind that came the night of Evelyn's birth had taken Sara's memory with it as it swept out of town, leaving Evelyn in it's place. A strange happening, one might think, but for the residents of Willow Falls, loss of memory was a natural event that had nothing to do with old age. Loss of memory could happen to anyone there, at any time. Forgetting unpleasantries was a way of life there, a skill passed down from mother to daughter and father to son.

Although Sara lived on the fringe of Willow Falls society, she still learned their ways and practiced the fine art of hiding from the truth they had come to be known for. She had honed her skills so well she didn't even realize that she had never even been accepted into Willow Falls society, and neither had any of her ancestors. Yes, they had lived there since time began it seemed, but they were always outsiders to the other townspeople. They were different, of that there was no doubt, and it was this knowledge the people of the town had of the Martins' uniqueness that set them somewhat apart. Sara's ancestors had gone to great lengths to hide this truth from themselves, but the tide was about to turn. Evelyn had a sense of self awareness that was stronger than any tradition, more firmly rooted in her than any other aspect of her being. It was the wind that she arrived on that had made her this way. She had slipped into the world by hanging on to the tail of the wind, much like her ancestral home had done many years before, and just as the home had a solid foundation, so did she.

Evelyn wasn't like the other children. She had the Wolf in her veins.

Domenico's

There doesn't seem to be any greater gift that we can give than to embrace our dreams and share them with the world!

It takes a rare person to be able to envision something and make it happen. It is one such person I am speaking of now. He is a man who has changed the face of a neighborhood and thereby changed the lives of all those around him. His name is Orin Domenico, and his dream has become a haven for so many South Utica residents.

I would imagine that the day Orin decided to open Cafe Domenico was much like any other day, except that it was electrically charged and full of hope and excitement. I'm sure it was a process, not just a moment's fancy, but a long time coming and once he decided on his course of action, he made it happen. That's where he stands out in my mind. He continued on, where other people just stop without having the courage to take action.

He transformed a small corner of the world into a funky, eclectic place for all sorts of people from all walks of life to come and hang out. He had a vision, he believed in it, and so, we find, do we. It was his bravery that changed the landscape of an area of a sleepy city that needed a jolt. He may not see himself as brave, but I do, and I know others who share my feelings. He may see it as a simple act, just a man deciding to open a business, but Cafe Domenico is more than a business. It goes well beyond that.

It is place where I feel at home, and I have made friends there that I would never have made otherwise. My children have found this place to be a safe haven as well. My daughter spent many weekends being spoiled by her favorite baristas over the years. She grew up surrounded by smooth jazz and friendly conversations. She has found true friendship there. What more can a parent ask for?

I told Orin one day how I felt about his dream, and how it changed the lives of so many people and he actually seemed taken aback to hear me say it. I don't think he imagined himself a hero of sorts, but truly, to me, he is. He took a chance, believed in himself and built a place so many of us love. He has succeeded in changing the world and making it a better place than it was before he came by, and that's what it's all about. That's why we're here on his earth.

Thank you Orin, for believing in yourself.... for taking a chance. Your dream has changed my life, the lives of my children and countless others. You are an inspiration to all of us, and we appreciate your friendship and your coffee....it's the best, and so are you!

I love Cafe Domenico, the place where everybody knows my name!

Snipet #7

When Mrs. Putnam arrived to check on Sara the next day, she found both mother and daughter sleeping soundly. She set to making tea and sandwiches and then gently lifted the baby from Sara's arms to check her. She washed the baby, counted her digits and eleven fingers and ten toes later, she placed Evelyn in the sunny yellow room in her bassinet. Such a lovely baby, thought Mrs. Putnam. It's a shame about those fingers, though. I wonder if Sara noticed yet, she pondered.

Mrs. Putnam was slightly concerned about the sixth finger on Evelyn's right hand, but after giving it some thought, figured if it was good enough for Ann Boleyn, then it was good enough for Evelyn Martin. But then again, she reflected, look where Ann ended up. But such thoughts were dreary, and Mrs. Putnam was not one to dwell on unpleasantries for too long. She was after all, a resident of Willow Falls and very adept at looking straight ahead and not paying too close attention to all the activity going on in her peripheral vision.

She woke Sara gently and offered her some tea. She asked Sara if she was hungry, but Sara shrugged off the question and got out of bed. She went directly into the sunny yellow bedroom and stood beside her daughter's bassinet. Evelyn had beautiful black hair and soft pink skin. She wondered what color Evelyn's eyes were, since she saw her late at night and couldn't be sure. She assumed they would be blue, since most newborns had blue eyes. She stood waiting and Mrs. Putnam came in to stand next to her. Such a beautiful, sweet baby, she said to Sara. Sara agreed, as mothers will do. All mothers believe their baby to be the finest baby ever born, and Sara was no exception.

As Evelyn began to stretch and make the most delightful baby sounds, her eyes blinked and both Mrs. Putnam and Sara leaned forward to catch a glimpse. Her eyes, to their surprise, were green. Mrs. Putnam gasped, as she had never seen a newborn baby with green eyes, especially not this intense green, the green of an older, wiser person. Saints preserve us, she cried. In response, Sara sighed, she's perfect. Mrs. Putnam asked her if she had seen the baby's right hand. My baby has been touched by the wind, Sara replied, you didn't expect her to be like all the other babies, did you? No, Mrs. Putnam replied, she is like no other. Good, said Sara. That's good.

Snipet #6

I'm hungry....I'm hungry. The words had played over and over in Sara's mind for many months after he had left. She was devastated at first, then resigned to the fact that things just didn't turn out the way she had hoped they would. The thought of her baby buoyed her up and kept her going. He may have been hungry, and she could understand that, but she knew one thing about herself. She would never let her hunger take her over. She wouldn't let anything get in the way of her child's happiness. Not even the wind could do that.

As the Wolf raged on the night of her child's birth, and her pains grew more intense, she feared that she may not always be able to keep her child safe. How would she be able to raise her child alone? How would she keep the wind at bay? Would she be strong enough? The wind rose and fell, her pains swept over her, and she began to have doubts about her ability to handle such a daunting task, but despite her fears, she swore that she would die trying.

Evelyn was born at 3:00 a.m., in a rush of grief, joy and fluid. The wind quieted down, her sweet baby cried, and Sara was content. She sang to her baby, crooning old lullabies her mother and grandmother had sung to her. She shocked herself that she actually remembered these old songs. She felt these women close by as she cradled her daughter in her arms. She felt their loving presence and was convinced that Evelyn would be blessed by them and would grow to be as beautiful and kind as they had been.

Sara tried hard not to wonder what it might mean that her daughter was born on such a night. Evelyn was healthy, and that's all that mattered to her, but as she would soon learn, the wind doesn't howl like that for no reason. The Wolf and the moon had come together that night, and not without purpose. One thing Sara should have remembered is that there is no coincidence in this life. Everything aligns specifically for a desired end.

Snipet #5

The noises continued throughout the night as the wind howled and moaned. Sara thought that the Wolf was especially hungry this particular night and hoped he would stay far away from her front door. The strange sounds were adding to her fears and her mind began to wander to a time when she wasn't so alone in the world, but then the Wolf had taken her man away. The wind was always taking something. The hunger was a greedy glutton and he would take what he could, when the opportunity arose.

Evelyn never knew her father since the wind had taken him away long before she was born. It began a few nights after her mother had told her father about her impending arrival. Everything had seemed fine and Sara was glowing with the anticipation of motherhood. Perhaps it was the glow that had clouded her vision, for she didn't see any darkness or unhappiness coming. She saw rainbows and sunshine where ever she went. She was so busy looking inward that she failed to see the father of her baby slipping away.

The first she noticed anything peculiar was how he seemed to be unable to sleep. He would sit up in bed, as if he had heard someone call his name. He would look around, seemingly confused. He would walk over to the window and peek out the lace curtains and a frown would cross over his brow. This happened sporadically at first, then it was night after night. She finally asked him if something was wrong and he would mumble things about how quickly time flies by and how he didn't know how he had ended up where he was. She thought that was strange, as he was where he was because he was born there, his family was there, his job was there...his life. Where else should he be, she wondered.

Then came the night the wind blew in quickly, taking a few sapling trees in the back yard and sending them far away. It was that night that Evelyn's father went far away, too. He hadn't spoken much at dinner that night, saying he didn't feel well. He went to bed early. Sara followed him there just to be close to him, to feel his warmth as the wind rattled the windows. When Sara woke up in the morning, he was gone. He left a note:

It's late. I'm hungry. I have to go. Forgive me.

Snipet #4

The Martin family of Briar Lane didn't always buy into Willow Falls philosophy. They had always been part of the town, since it had been established at least 150 years before, but they had always had their own way of doing things. Unfortunately, over time, they had forgotten that they were independent women, they had forgotten the magic, and had adopted the ways and common thoughts of the town folk. It was easier than being different. The wind didn't howl quite so loudly outside your windows at night when you were just like everyone else. But, easier isn't always better, and sometimes feeling the hunger is better than feeling nothing at all.

The day that Evelyn was born, as the wind raged outside, Sara Martin did her best to be brave. Although she had forgotten the magic of her mother and grand mother, she lit candles to brighten her bedroom and whispered long forgotten prayers out of fear more than devotion. She had many of her ancestors belongings around her, and that made her feel safer, as if she were still being watched over by them. As the wind rose and the linden tree branches tapped against her windows, her pains rose and fell like the tide. The moon was full that night, which would have been considered auspicious, but as she had forgotten the magic, it meant nothing more to Sara than a little more light shining in her dark little house.

Her labor was fierce and she was frightened, but she couldn't risk trying to go out in the storm to find Mrs. Putnam's house. The elderly woman had delivered many of the Willow Falls residents over the years and was someone Sara trusted with her life. But this time, she was on her own, as the nearest neighbors house couldn't be seen as she looked out of her kitchen window. It was just too dangerous, so Sara decided she could handle things on her own. Women had babies all the time, she reasoned. This is a natural thing, she said over and over. She could handle it. She was a Martin. There was nothing to fear. She heard noises, things being tossed around outside, the house creaked in its foundation, sounding like footsteps just outside her bedroom door.

It's just the wind, she told herself. It's just the wind.

Snipet #3

Evelyn was born on a day when the wind howled through the valley and threatened to take more than it's fair share. The sun peeped out briefly that morning and her mother, Sara, was deceived into thinking that that Monday would be like any other. The sun would come out, she would rush to get some laundry hung, she might sit on the porch and relax for a bit, daydreaming about her baby that was due to come soon. She would do what all mothers do during that nesting time. She would prepare and dream of the future. She would scrub and clean and sing songs to her baby. She would have hope for anything was possible. The wind might come, for all the spells and incantations in the world couldn't keep the wind at bay, but they would be safe. She and her baby would thrive in their home, clean and snug and warm.

Sara had lived in her little house on Briar Lane since she was a baby. As a matter of fact, she had been born there, in the sunny bedroom with the yellow walls. The room that was now going to be the nursery for her own child. This house was passed on to Sara by her own mother, Mae. When she would ask how old the house was, Mae would be rather vague. Our house came blowing in one day, hanging on to the tail end of the wind, her mother would tell her. She knew this couldn't be true, could it? Houses are built with nails and wood, by hard working men with callouses on their hands, men who dreamed of building castles but had to content themselves with bungalows and split level ranches. Houses didn't just appear, riding the wind like a bird. Sara gave this some thought over the years, and she decided she didn't have any idea what was true regarding her house. The wind brought the hunger to Willow Falls, why not houses, why not dreams?

The wind came with a fury that day, shortly after Sara had hung out the clothes to dry. She sang as she worked, but from the corner of her eye she could see the storm clouds coming. She ignored them, thinking they might turn and go in the other direction if she behaved as if she hadn't seen them. Sometimes by hiding in plain sight, by going about your business, you could send the wind back to where it came from. There was some logic there, at least that's what the people of Willow Falls believed, and Sara was Willow Falls born and bred, through and through. So, she believed it, too.