Saturday, February 22, 2020

CHARACTERS

"Hi Bear.  What's been happening in your life?" asked Bum.

"Never mind that, Bum.  I want to hear about your pedicure."

"Perhaps we should start with the next point in Paul's Report called Characters," said Bum, ignoring him.

"Never mind that, Bum," Bear repeated, "I want to hear about your pedicure."

"Why are you interested in my pedicure, my dear Bear.  What possible interest could it have for you?" asked Bum, looking puzzled.

"You're not the type for these beauty aids, Bum.  You are fine just the way you are.  Your skin is good, your finger nails are short and clean, and what could be wrong with your feet?"

"Nice of you to say so, that I am fine just the way I am, Bear, but my feet were indeed a problem.  I've never wanted anyone picking away at my feet, nor indeed at any part of me, but I had a problem with my toe nails because I could not reach my feet for about a year, what with this bloody back problem, and something needed to be done.  So, I caved, as Mom used to say, and made an appointment for a pedicure.  I was not looking forward to it, but I knew something had to be done." 

"I see," said Bear.  "That makes sense.  So, how was it?  I've never seen anyone getting a pedicure but I've heard about them.  My master's wife is always regaling us with stories about her various beauty aids, like her facial, her manicure, her pedicure, and worst of all, some kind of waxing all over her body.  God knows why anyone needs that." 

"The pedicure was much better and easier than I expected," admitted Bum.  The Sanctuary is located upstairs at Parkgate Village.  You've probably never been there, Bear."

"Why would I have ever been to The Sanctuary, Bum.  I'm a dog and when I needed my nails clipped, the Vet did it."

"Anyway, I went upstairs and entered The Sanctuary at the allotted time, identified myself and said I am here for my 12:30 appointment.  This tall blonde woman rushed over to me and told me I was so stylish she could hardly bear it.  I asked if I could hang up my coat and hat to distract her from her over-the-top pleasure at seeing me.  It was too much. She then enthused about my tie around my neck and asked if it was part of my sweater, it was so stylish.  I thought she was overdoing it as it is that old black string I've worn for years around the neck of a blouse I usually wear under a sweater.  I prayed she was not doing my pedicure as my feet definitely were not stylish by a long shot.  I was so relieved when another woman approached, called Sera, and said she was doing my pedicure and escorted me to a back room, very private."

"What was she on about, Bum.  Usually all I see you in are old pants and a disreputable sweater.  How stylish could that be?" said Bear, looking puzzled.

"I don't know, Bear.  As I said, she was over-the-top.  Now, do you want to hear about the pedicure or not?"

"You know I do," responded Bear.

"The room was small and contained what looked like a hospital bed against one wall.  I hoped that didn't mean anything.   She sat me down in the corner, asked me to remove my socks because I must soak my feet in this big tub of hot soapy water. It was lovely.  The soaking lasted about 10 minutes  before Sera returned and asked if I needed help to get up on the bed.  I told her I would give it a try and did, successfully.  My feet were propped up at the foot of the bed where Sera sat.  She clipped and snipped and talked and it went smoothly, I thought.  She didn't seem to have any problem with my nails, although I always found it a strain to clip them because they weren't quite even and were a bit hard.  Mind you, I never thought of soaking them first, but then my career didn't lean to pedicures.  I was an insurance person."

"So it went well," said Bear.  "No big deal, I gather."

"I told Sera I would come again after about a month, just to keep my beautiful feet beautiful.   She thought that was a good idea."

"You're a bit of a character, you know that don't you Bum?"

Bum said nothing.

Bear continued with "my master's wife calls the woman next door a bit of a character."

"Why's that?" enquired Bum.

"The woman wears unusual footwear for one thing.  She has these high-heeled gold lame boots which personally I don't feel belong on city streets,  and when those shoes and boots became popular with a cat's face on the toe, she wore those.  I think the master's wife calls her a character, trying to be nice but acknowledge her unusual dress code which is rather flamboyant, because the woman's husband is filthy rich and worth knowing, if you know what I mean."

"I don't think I'm a character like that woman, Bear," said Bum in a disapproving tone.

"No, that's true, Bum.  You are more of a character in that you are eccentric, but rather charming with it."

"I like that Bear.  You are forgiven for comparing me to that awful woman.  So, what you're saying is that there are many kinds of characters."

"Yes, Bum, and since we're talking characters, let's segue on to Paul's latest remarks about Characters in our book."

"Let's do it, Bear, although your segue is pretty obvious, when it shouldn't be, if you know what I mean.  In case you don't know, a segue is a smooth transition.  When you segue in conversation, you change the topic so smoothly that people might not even notice."

"I know what segue means, Bum, but we don't need that slimy way of changing a topic.  We are surely past that.  What did he say about Characters?"

"This is what he wrote," said Bum.

"As for clarifying characters, I have said above that I see the three main characters as breaking down this way, using the book Heroes and Heroines as a guide:

     .  Janey, the Spunky Kid (Working Girl variant)
     Bear, the Bad Boy (From the Wrong Side of the Tracks variant)
     .  Gordon, the Best Friend (Mr. Nice Guy variant)

If we use this breakdown, then the next draft should work at depicting the characters as being powered by and consistent with these archetypes.  The book Heroes and Heroines is actually aimed at romance writers, and discusses how these archetypes interact in a romantic plot.  The authors think that an example of the Best Friend and Spunky Kid in a romantic story together is the movie While You Were Sleeping with Bill Pullman and Sandra Bullock.  I haven't seen the movie, but it might provide an example of these kinds of characters in action with each other.  Their example of a Bad Boy with Spunky Kid story is the movie Grease starring John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John.

All this will make the characters clear and stand on their own two (or four) feet.  Part of the task will involve fleshing out the characters, in part by understanding their backstories--the events in their respective pasts that are relevant to the unfolding of the present story."

"I wish Paul would stop referring to me as the Bad Boy, and now, having the effrontery to compare me to that old fart, John Travolta,." said Bear, looking pretty disgusted at the whole Characters assessment.

"He's not that old, Bear.  I believe he was born in 1954 so he's younger than I am, but who isn't?" said Bum.

"I didn't call him that, Bum.  It was my master's wife's daughter who called him that when her mother was trying to get her to watch Grease with her, a film she had always loved and thought her daughter would too.  Her daughter had seen John Travolta interviewed on one of those talk shows recently and that's why she saw him as an old fart."

"Give me strength, Bear.  Paul was comparing you to the young John Travolta from Grease.  He was a master dancer and singer and actor and played the Bad Boy in that film to great aplomb."

"Oh," said Bear.  "That's OK then but I still object to being called a Bad Boy which I am not."

"I don't see you as a bad boy, Bear, and that's really all that matters," said Bum.

"What else did Paul have to say about our characters?" asked Bear.

 "That's all he had to say about Characters.  He obviously feels our book needs more about our backstories, our history I guess."

"Hmm," said Bear.  "Let me think about that for a few minutes."

"While you're thinking, I'll tell you what I think," said Bum.  She hasn't time to sit around thinking about this crap.  She has an appointment over town, finally, with her radiologist.

"It seems that Paul feels that we should've devoted a few chapters on Janey's life history, and then yours, Bear.  I think he's wrong.  I hate long chapters about any person or place in a book.  I prefer that they get on with the story.  Remember, he wanted us to flesh out Deep Cove as he felt people would enjoy knowing more about this locale, since it's a very unique place. Our book isn't about Deep Cove, it's about us.  Wouldn't you agree, Bear?"

"Indeed I do agree, Bum.   Our backstories emerge from our conversations as we walk, which is what our story is all about; we walk and we talk.  That is how friends find out about each other--through conversation."

"That is so true, Bear.  I found out that you were born in Calcutta of all places, three pups in a basket being hawked for a tasty supper by your hideous owner who was a woman regrettably.  Your master was there, checking out the market on one of his layovers as a pilot, and purchased you for the price of a light meal.  He brought you home to Deep Cove and your human family started to emerge.  I love that word, emerge.  It sounds like something being seen emerging from mist."

"That's a nice image, Bum, emerging from mist," responded Bear.  "I like it."

"What did you learn about me, Bear, from our conversations?" asked Bum.

"I learned about your Dad from the newspaper story.  Even Steve, your brother-in-law, that you now write to, said that he enjoyed re-reading the newspaper story.  Your Dad called you and your sister the two twerps who had no business delivering papers.  But, you talked him into it.  Steve said that most of the newspaper story was just about what happened as told to him by his wife, Patsy.  He said he found it interesting and entertaining and it seemed somewhat personal.  He knew the area well and the people in it and agreed that it showed a father's love for his little twerps.  Steve said he found it a very heart warming story."

"I love Steve's letters, Bum, when you remember to read them to me.  Sometimes you forget," said Bear with a frown.

"I know, Bear, and I'm sorry about that.  I'll try, no, I will get better.  I hate people who always say I'll try to, blah, blah, blah."

"When did you start writing to Steve and why?" asked Bear.

"It's been awhile, since July 2018, as I recall.  His wife, Patsy, my sister, had died four years earlier.  I knew he must be lonely without her, as I am.   I thought he might enjoy that bit in our book about my little treasure, the blue Mini he painted and gave to me so many years ago.  He did, and we have been writing to each other ever since."

"It's nice to get letters, isn't it Bum?  I don't think a lot of people out there know how nice it is to get mail, real mail I mean.  Children know.  They love getting mail addressed to them and delivered to the house."

"That's so true, Bear.  My sister and I always send cards to Sophie, William, and Charlie, Chella and Wes's children.  They love that."

"So, Bum, what did Steve say in his first letter to you?" asked Bear.

"He said he was happy to hear that I still have the little mini Austin model he sent to me many years ago, and that it's in my book.  He went on to say that one day I had given him and Patsy a ride in that little car in Toronto.  He felt uneasy because he knew I hadn't had my driver's licence long and also that the driving in Toronto traffic is somewhat suicidal.  Well, I took off like a shot, he said, zipping in and out of traffic like a T.O. taxi driver.  He was amazed at the confidence and control I showed in that crazy traffic.  It was funny to read what he thought of me then, Bear, because I never saw myself like that."

"You don't know yourself very well, Bum, as I've told you before."

Bum ignored that comment and went on.  "This correspondence with Steve keeps my friend and sister, Patsy, in my thoughts and memory.  I dearly wish she could know that."

"She knows," said Bear with a smile.

"You always know what to say, Bear, to make me feel good.  It's a gift.  But, perhaps Paul is correct about fleshing out my background.  I never had a story to use in our book about Mom and, like Dad, she was a big part of my history."

"Your mother's personality crept  into our conversation, and book, in bits and pieces, Bum.  You said she was not demonstrative, for example, although that is hard to comprehend when she had 14 children.  The incident I remember most was the time when your mother got old, as people tend to do. You said she was slumped in a chair and you thought she needed and perhaps wanted a hug.  You regretted if very much that you did not hug her.  She had taught you too well."  Bear paused here in remembrance and then said, "It broke my heart, Bum.  It broke my heart."

"Someday, Bear, we'll be archetypes someone mentions in a book.  Perhaps Paul will read it.









   











    



 
 


 











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