Finding Emmeline

Here is a peek at the back book cover of my next faith-based novel titled "Finding Emmeline." This is the first book in a new series about the Brain-Box Detective Club that will be released early next year.

*******

Martin Gilmore agrees reluctantly to victim reconciliation with prisoner Charles Quinn who tried to murder him. Martin cannot forget his near-death experience when Quinn sets fire to a barn, trapping Martin inside. Martin barely escapes. Now he faces a dilemma.

Can any victim muster enough grace to forgive someone who tried to kill him?

But the prisoner has more than forgiveness on his mind. Quinn wants Martin to find his wife Emmeline who ran away from the marriage after the birth of their child Ava, now eight years old.

Martin is pulled into the mystery and follows a thread of clues leading him to a theater group. He finds Emmeline, with a new identity, being held emotionally captive by a domineering man involved in counterfeit documents and work papers.

Martin and his newly-formed team of amateur detectives plot a plan of rescue. The team focuses on a stage performance of Death by Reunion to kidnap Emmeline. A wild car chase ensues, there is a fury of gunshots, and Martin’s Mustang careens into a guardrail along a cavernous ravine.

Will Martin be rescued in time as his car hangs on the edge of certain death, testing his faith in the Lord? Will Emmeline and Charles ever find a pathway to rebuild their marriage?

Robert Parlante

November 2016

Put on a Happy Face

You have likely heard or read it takes fewer muscles to smile than to frown. One Internet source I read indicated it takes somewhere between 17 to 26 muscles to smile and between 43 and 62 to frown. Given the gap of effort and the amount of human energy we save using less facial muscles, why do I see so few smiles as of late. I’ve heard the argument that it takes more muscles to frown, uses more energy, burns more calories and potentially helps you lose weight. That’s a spurious conclusion and does not justify frowning.

There are enough good reasons to frown. You cannot live life without encountering hurdles that wipe the smile off our face. Watching a news telecast is enough to put on a frown. Following politics, no matter which party you align with will wipe a smile off one’s face faster than you can say Democrat or Republican. The breakdown of family and the society as a whole is discouraging. There are plenty of reasons not t0 put on a happy face.

I attend a gym frequently and normally hold a door open for a woman or a senior adult. Too many times, the person passes through with little or no acknowledgement. There’s just the whoosh of them making a mad dash for an available treadmill. No “thank you” and not too many smiles.

I find people are suspicious and assume you’re up to no good or you are looking for something. Maybe it happens so few times, the person does not know how to react. They may even think the gesture is chauvinistic which it is not. I was raised to be polite. Old habits do not die easily.

When someone says “thank you,” it restores my hope in the human spirit. When someone smiles, flashing their pearly whites for some meager effort, I wish I could say what I’m thinking. “You should smile more often! You have a beautiful smile!”

Here’s a Scripture verse to meditate upon on your worst day, full of frowns: Proverbs 15:13 “A glad heart makes a cheerful face, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed.”

Rejoice, be thankful and be glad! It may overcome some of the sorrow of our hearts! We may even find ourselves smiling just a little bit. It’s a baby step, but who knows where it may lead.

P.S. Am I just being too Pollyanna? What’s your view?

Robert Parlante
October 2016

Frankenstein Walked Me Home

Recently attended a book-to-film presentation at our local library branch. After discussing the author and the original book, a film version was presented for contrast. The book was Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and published in 1818. The movie was the 1931 film of that book with Boris Karloff playing the monster.

Mary Shelley had a difficult life and one could see how that life provided inspiration for the idea of a scientist piecing together body parts to create a new life.

I saw the original 1931 version about 15 years after its debut. It was the first horror film I had ever seen. I was a young boy living in a coal mining community. Every week, a man would come to the community house, put up a white sheet on which a film would be projected, all for ten cents. I still remember sitting through that film terrified and almost afraid to breathe. The scene where the monster throws the young girl into the lake where she drowns stills scares me.

The hardest part of seeing the movie was having to walk home in the dark after it had finished. My friends and I walked as a group. There was nervous laughter as if that would eliminate the threat. Members of the group peeled away to their homes. I was the last one left and had to walk alone. It felt like Frankenstein was walking right behind me. I ran along the dirt road to my house, daring not to stop and look back.

As adults we sometimes walk through life like a Frankenstein is behind us, nipping at our heels. We have all been there. Here are a few thoughts to help you deal with the monsters from the past that still try to overcome us with fear.

Frankenstein is a fictional fabrication. But not everything that haunts us in real life is fictional. There are real painful moments in people’s lives that keep resurrecting itself and jumping out at us from a dark place. I handled my fictional monster my running, not stopping and not turning around.

Consider the opposite. Stop and look fear right in the eye! Arm yourself with Ephesians 6:14-17.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

There is no need to be afraid. You have all what it takes. You are never alone

Robert Parlante

October 2016

How to Convert your Home into a CVS Drugstore

Some years ago we lived in a multi-family home with our daughter, her husband and their three children. We had this living arrangement for about 10 years. One of the grandkids could easily work their circuitous way to our side of the house without going outside.

Our grandkids would frequently want to visit our “side” of the house. They would first work their way through their garage, then the shared laundry room, into our garage to the door into our apartment. The living arrangement was perfect, with separate living arrangements and complete privacy.

Some evenings, there would be a knock on the door (they were not allowed to walk in without knocking) and one of the kids would say, “Grammy, do you have any Scotch tape?”

“Sure, in the drawer next to the kitchen sink. Do you want something to eat?”

“Poppy, do you have a cover for the report? By the way, could you read it and make it better?”

“The covers are in the middle drawer of the desk. What’s your report about?”

The ongoing joke was our grandkids think we were a well-stocked CVS drugstore! And we could meet all of their needs. I then realized I stumbled onto a great idea. Have a lot of reasons to have your family (grandkids) and even friend knocking on your door looking for something. It’s cheaper than the real CVS, and it forces them to spend some time with you.

Here are some suggestions to stock your shelves like a CVS store.

1.      Stock frozen pizza, ready to heat up and serve at a moment’s notice.

2.     Learn to hem trousers, fix faulty seams and remove stains.

3.     Buy a stapler and have a supply of staples.

4.     Have an array of paper clips, book covers, tape, glue, craft paints, glue gun.

5.     Have a supply of Tums for upset stomachs.

6.     Have some reading material to pass onto them.

7.      Learn how to search the Internet to help with homework.

8.     Always have something sweet to serve.

9.     Have a top of the line computer they cannot resist using.

The list is not exhaustive. But hopefully you get my point. Be creative and select items that fit your circumstances.

Remember the most important shelf item is you. Encourage their visits, their sharing, and try to determine their needs beyond the obvious paper clip.

Robert Parlante

October 2016

Travelling with a Friend

On November 27, 1920 after a long journey across the Atlantic Ocean, my father landed on the shore of this great country and entered through Ellis Island. Some years ago, I was able to retrace pieces of the steps my father took from Perugia, Italy, the land of Francis of Assisi, through Paris to the Normandy coast where he boarded the Il de France for America.

I was able to find the passenger manifest for that sail, and there was my father’s name, a man of twenty-three, full of conviction, independence and dreams. In all of his dreams I doubt he could have envisioned who I am today. I am proud to stand on his shoulders, and I now look into the future, however darkly, and see a bright future for his grandchildren and great-grandchildren despite the gloom and doom of daily news about everything wrong with our society.

But as I went through the ship manifest, I made a startling discovery. I concluded it was one of the keys to a successful life journey. My father was traveling with his best friend. They remained friends until my father’s passing.

My wife is my best friend and a great traveling companion. When two are joined, the hurdles and burdens of life are manageable when you consider two views, two solutions, and two “recipes” to approach any problem. Out of all that stew comes the agreement.

But not everyone is blessed with a “travelling” companion. Well, that’s not exactly true. Here’s a suggestion. Go to You Tube and listen to the hymn “What A Friend We Have in Jesus.”

There is never a time in life when we do not have a friend or travelling companion.

Have a life of dreams and convictions.

If you enjoyed reading this blog, share with someone!

Robert Parlante

October 2016

Life on the Ledge

The old man nudged me carefully to the edge of the ravine. He held onto me as I looked down to the ledge and saw the dog was still there. The animal was stone silent, barely moving, and still alive. The old man said there was no way to save the scarcely alive dog. His words felt like a sledgehammer crushing what little hope I hung onto. I was not looking to be a nine-year-old hero. I had given up on that fantasy nurtured by reading those Zane Grey Western magazines. This felt like real life and death. I wanted a solution to an impossible situation.

When the dog saw us he began to yelp again, more weakly this time like he knew its fate.

The old man grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “We need to go, let nature take its course! We can’t help this dog.”

That was the hardest decision any kid could make. Walk away and let the dog die, either through exhaustion and lack of food and water. Or falling off the ledge to the crater floor fifty feet below. I remember weeping as the old man nudged me along. I recall still hearing the faint wailing as we walked away until distance made it no longer audible. To this very day, within my spirit, I can still hear the sound of that dog crying out for help. It was a defining moment and a reminder about dealing with life on a ledge.

As an adult, I know there are time when we have to walk away and demonstrate tough love. A good friend’s brother was sleeping in a cardboard box underneath the George Washington Bridge because of addictions. As painful a choice it was, the family all agreed to tough love to encourage the brother to make the right decisions. This situation had a blessed outcome. But it doesn’t always happen that way.

There are times when family members or friends end up on a “ledge” crying out for help. Sometimes it’s from circumstances beyond one’s control. Sometimes, it’s by their own doing. The choices leading to a resolution are not always obvious or within our reach.

When the dog moaned on that ledge, my young mind did not comprehend fully the scope of God’s way with miracles. Today as an adult when facing the impossible I choose to rely on Scriptures like Matthew 19:26 - Jesus looked at them and said, "With men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Now the final question. Could God have saved the dog I still think about? The circumstances were clearly impossible.

What’s your view on this?

Robert Parlante
September 2016

A Not So Magical Kingdom

I often visited the old man (the junk man) and woman (the book lady) because I liked reading stories in their stash of pulp magazines. Zane Grey’s Western magazine was my favorite. As soon as I finished one story I would begin another and often read the same story over again. I practically had the story memorized, and I would go outside to reenact the plot. Cowboys and rustlers. The beautiful teacher abducted by the evil mine boss. My trusted dog would help me save the day! There was no limit to what my two-sided brain could conjure up on a hot and humid summer day in anthracite coal country.

I also liked to scavenge the areas around the abandoned coal mines searching for treasures left behind after the mines stopped operating. When I brought a stray pulley I had found or stumbled upon a length of rusted metal, the old man acted like I had brought him a million dollars as he added them to his junk collection. I once brought back an empty cobalt-blue glass bottle that glistened like a sapphire gem. It was probably worthless but the old man treated the bottle as priceless, telling me it should be set in a king or queen’s crown. It inspired me to bring back more.

One day, my magical kingdom took a turn for the worse. As a child there was never a time I did not have a dog, and every one of them was named Lassie, male or female. I was obsessed with the movie "Lassie, Come Home" filmed in 1943. Between Zane Grey and Lassie, I had everything I needed to conjure up a life and death story where some nine-year-old hero comes to the rescue.

While on another scavenger hunt, I heard a strange sound coming from the mine area and the surrounding waste heaps. It was a faint wailing that sounded desperate, like a crying baby. When I honed in on the place it was coming from, I walked up to the edge of a cavernous excavation. As I scanned the deep ravine I saw a dog who had fallen off the edge and landed onto a narrow ledge about 50 feet above the crater’s bottom. Had the fall just happened or did it occur days ago? It had to be some time ago, because the dog was skinny and hardly moving.

There was no escape! There was no way for me to reach the desperate dog from the top. There was no way for the dog to jump off the ledge and survive the leap. Who to call? No phones. Certainly no cell phones. I stood frozen looking down at the helpless animal. No matter how much I tried to figure out a rescue, I came up empty. As I considered the likely outcome, I found myself fighting back tears. I sat on the ground and imagined I was stroking the poor dog, hoping it would be a source of comfort.

I decided to walk back to the junk man and see if he could help the dog. He was physically limited but he still returned to the ravine with me. As we approached the ravine, there was stone silence. I was immediately heartbroken. Life was not a story where we could change the ending or soften the hard parts with a happy thought or a redeeming gesture. This time I would not be the hero.

Robert Parlante
September 2016