RESURGENCE

CHAPTER 18 & Conrad's diary

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

After three months of working in the kitchen of a local bakery, John Underwood finally joined the California Police Department as an officer. Due to his experience in the Alabama Police Department of more than thirty years, it was easy for him to get in again. He worked hard and soon earned the respect of both his co-workers and superiors. 

Paula kept teaching rich kids privately and had ample amount of time on her own, while John was away ensuring safety of the people. She started writing in her free time and poured out her long-held emotions on paper. She wrote without ambition, to satisfy her soul. It started out as a way to express her thoughts but, as time went by, the words on paper made more sense to her than ever before. The process of writing helped her calm the storm of emotions she naturally felt. The free writing slowly took the shape of poetry and beautiful stanzas flowed from her mind. It felt as natural as swimming downstream. Within a couple of months, she had penned more than fifty poems on love, nature, separation, and family. It took her a year and three dozen rejection letters to find a publisher. When finally published, the book of poetry she wrote became an instant national bestseller. 

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June 9, 2034

“Ding, ding, ding,” said John. “Wake up, cutie, I have breakfast in bed for you.” Paula slowly sat up in the bed and opened her eyes just enough for them to look like slits. She smiled upon seeing the breakfast John had cooked for her: pancakes, maple syrup, a fried egg, hash browns, and a glass of orange juice. She closed her eyes and formed her lips in an ‘O,’ as if kissing him. She made a smooching sound. John leaned on the bed and kissed her.

“Thank you, honey,” she said. “This is epic. Let me take a photo of this. I’m going to post this online. Thousands of people will love this. Could you pass me the phone? It’s right behind you on the table.”

John handed her the phone.

“I can’t wait to eat this,” Paula said as she started to devour the food in front of her.

“So honey,” said John. “What’s up? Cindy drove you home last night. You were passed out. Talk to me.”

Paula chewed and swallowed before she spoke, “Darling I’m so sorry. I went to the premiere of Cindy’s new movie. Gosh, I can’t even remember the name of it. She really wanted me to show up, and I’m glad I went. The movie was pretty good, and I’m sure you’ll like it. After the movie, Cindy and I went to a party where I had a bit too much to drink. Some wine, a couple of tequila shots, and something else that I can’t remember. I got so wasted. Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad. I get worried. Whenever I see you, you are high on alcohol or weed or coke.”

“Everything’s good, honey,” she said. “It’s all good. I do all that stuff to stimulate my creativity and challenge my imagination. Sometimes it helps and other times I just pass out. You don’t need to worry about a thing, my love. It’s all good.”

I just worry that one of these days you might have a heart attack, he thought, or die from a drug overdose.

“I want to believe you,” he said. “And I don’t want to nag about your lifestyle, but I met with our family doctor last week, and she said that at the rate you’re going, you’ll need to ‘go young’ within five years.”

“We can afford it,” Paula said with a smile. She abruptly stopped chewing and spoke again, “We have the freedom to abuse our health as much as we want because we can afford it. Wow! That just gave me an idea for a song I wanna write for Barbara. She’s gonna love it. Thank you for helping, honey, I’ve been trying to do this for weeks.” She grabbed her diary by the bed and wrote down a few words.