Waiting to Get In

Synopsis:
Here we have:

The Now stories, from Moo Alley, where kids, cats and the cows next door add their unique pieces of the puzzle to keep life interesting.

The Then stories, with everyone from naked poets to thieves held at sword-point.

And Then Again, the Checkerboard Wars, only on the Bruce Peninsula you say?

Status: ready for copyediting.
This is a working title. Opinions welcome.

Excerpt:
Isobel left me with a parting gift, an ex-boyfriend of hers, massive in size, approaching six and a half feet in height and known, incongruously as "Tiny". Tiny said few words to me but obviously hoped I would replace Isobel who had happily moved on. In no way did I share Tiny's notion that we could be a couple. His large silent presence loomed like a threat and I felt uneasy around him.

I was living within an hour's drive of Toronto. I still didn't drive, but Tiny did. He found the school where I was teaching and began appearing in the neighbourhood, where, because of his size, he was quite noticeable. He seemed to want nothing more than to say hello, but even this alarmed me to some degree, as I had gone out of my way to discourage his unwelcome attentions.

The house where I boarded was just a block or two from the school and easy for him to find, though thankfully he never came to the door. If he had any intentions of doing that, fate kindly intervened when my landlady left for a month's holiday in England and arranged for me to stay with a different family, it not being considered proper in those days for a single woman to live in the same house with another woman's husband during her absence.

With the giant Tiny not knowing the new arrangements, I now moved a few blocks away to the home of Olwyn, one of my grade seven students. At the dinner table we talked about my unease with the unwanted admirer, and this information soon found its way to school. Soon students were phoning Olwyn to report that Tiny's car was parked around the corner from the previous house or down the street from the school.

Olwyn's Dad, Mr. J. was a small and quiet man. Probably about a foot shorter and two hundred pounds lighter than Tiny. His passion was Wagner, and I rarely saw him without earphones, listening to the wild symphonic passages he loved so well. But when he would hear from his daughter that Tiny was in the neighbourhood, the earphones were laid aside, and out went Mr. J. to stand on the front porch, legs astride, arms crossed over his chest, glowering a warning to the oblivious giant not to mess with any women in this house! This house was under his protection. I could almost see him sword in hand, charging down on Tiny's car, the music of Die Valkyrie playing in the background to add to the drama.

Tiny gave up in time, and Mr. J. never had to defend me from the giant, but the sword in hand scene would actually take place, in another city and another time.

- from story Flirting With Danger