The Life of Oddley - Episode 1

Greetings, people.  I know it's been months since I've posted something but I'm getting back to the blog.  It's just my nature to leave things along for long periods of time.  It's just how I am.  Anyway, today I'm beginning a new feature here on the blog.  It's a weekly literary serial called "The Life of Oddley".  It's the adventures of a supermarket worker back in the late 1960s.

I originally planned this as a short four-part adaptation of the outline I showed you at the beginning of the year, but I soon fell for the story and decided to press forward from the four parts that would have been the story into a part five and a part six and so on and so forth.  Something short and sweet becoming something long is how many of my stories turn out.

"Life in Hyperion" began that way, too.  By the way, I will bring that back on the blog as a 13-part short story serial in the fall.  I've been refining it since last year's daily serialblog and I hope that it'll be better this time around.   If you like it in the new form, I may keep bringing back Cy and Conrad from time to time, in whatever form you or I want.

I'm running away with this, so let me set up the new serial here on the blog.  It begins in the month of April back in the year of 1968.  I'll let Oddley give you the rest...

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My story begins on April 3rd, 1948 in the Cook County Hospital in Chicago, Illinois. As I lay in my post-birth hospital bed, a nurse looked over the bundle of joy that had been delivered at 6:07 am that morning.

That nurse turned to another and described this baby as, in her words, "Looking oddily." My mother overheard this nurse and felt that this nurse was giving name instead of giving opinion, and so bestowed that name on her newborn, spelling it O-D-D-L-E-Y.

She used her original choice as my middle name and so I was given the moniker of Oddley James Mitchell. I could give you many novels' worth of my life story, but I will only give a tale that began twenty years after I was born, my tale to give, as another writer spoke.

It started at the the Easy-Mart store, numbered 7 in the chain of 17 stores, spread across northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin. I was in a corner of the store, stacking cans into that well-known circular pyramid.

I was minding my business when I felt two people come up behind me. I turned up and around to get a look at them. One was my boss, Mr. Randall, a man who's balding with a ring of salt-and-pepper hair, wearing glasses and a business suit.

The other was a young woman, twirling away on her swept-up long reddish hair, chewing away on a piece of gum, her face carrying a look on very indifference about her job, framing by hoop earrings.

"Good morning, Mr. Randall." I said with a smile.

"Hello, Oddley. This is Gilda Tucker, our newest employee." said Mr. Randall.

"Hello, Gilda." I said, extending my hand.

"Nice to meet you." said Gilda, taking my hand and giving it a shake.

"Oddley, I want you to take Gilda on a tour of the store." said Mr. Randall.

"Yes, sir." I said.

"If you excuse me... " said Mr. Randall as he leaves us.

"Oddley... what an interesting name." said Gilda.

"It's spelled O-D-D-L-E-Y, if you must know." I said.

"Can I have my tour now?" asked Gilda.

I gave her the tour, with stops in the produce section, loaded with the best in fruits and veggies. The meat section, with two of the finest butchers I've ever known, and the only two. I also gave her a run-down on the checkout lanes, all three of them. I soon learned that checkout lane number two was her post in the store.

"I hope that this will be wonderful for you." I said as Gilda took her post.

"I will. I'm only working here because my brother's musical dreams are too much for him to get employed." said Gilda.

"I'm musical myself, with my beautiful singing voice." I told her.

"Well, I just hope you're easier to live with." said Gilda.

"Same here. I also have sibling trouble." I said.

"Which kind?" asked Gilda.

"An older sister, drowning in women's lib." I said.

"Anything else I should know?" asked Gilda.

"Nothing much." I said.

Just then, a figure walked his way into the store. He's Thomas Newshaw, an old friend of mine. I knew it was him because I knew his look, the expensive suit, the unshaven face, the slightly unruly brownish hair, and overall demeaner.

"Hello there, Oddley." he said as he made his way toward me.

"Hello, Newshaw." I said coldly.

"Now, is that any way to treat a trusted friend?" he asked.

"It depends on why you're here." I said.

"I'm here on an opprotunity of sorts." he said.

"Explain yourself." I said.

"There's a big game tomorrow between the White and Red Soxs." he said.

"You're betting on the game?" I asked him.

"No, you are." he said.

"Good luck, with the winning streak the Red Sox have been on." said Gilda.

"Who is this?" he then asked.

"This is Gilda Tucker, our store's newest employee." I said.

"Nice to meet you. So, Oddley, you in?" said Newshaw.

"For how much?" I asked.

"The initial amount, times three." he replied.

"Why the times three?" I asked.

"Because I feel I should give your money a chance." he said.

"I'll tell you what, I'll put in my savings as the bet." I said.

"On which team?" he asked.

"The hometown team." I said.

"How much have you in savings?" he then asked.

"About $1,000 in all." I told him.

"Nice doing business with you." he said, before making his departure.

"I shouldn't have bet on the White Sox. You know they're gonna lose." said Gilda.

I should have yielded her warning but he told me that it was a sure bet I was making. It should, for I have bet my savings three times over.

The next day came and I managed to fix the work schedule so I could watch the game in the back of the store. The game began and quickly, the Red Sox scored a home run and the first lead.

I watched, inning by inning, the Red Sox making score after score until the final out. The score was enough that the White Sox, who had the final turn at bat, could pull a win and win me $3,000.

Sadly, the man stood, swung, and missed all three times. The game ended with the Red Sox taking the win. As the game ended, I heard the phone in the back room ring. I got up from my chair and answered it.

"Hello, Oddley." said the voice of Newshaw at the other end.

"Hello, Newshaw. You didn't watch the game just now?" I said, nervously.

"I did, and you owe me $3,000 in cash." said Newshaw.

"Take a check?" I asked.

"I want my money in the form I like." said Newshaw.

"I'll get right on it." I said.

"I'll be there tomorrow to collect." said Newshaw, who then hung up.

Sure enough, the next day came and so did Newshaw. He came in as I was beginning a shift at checkout lane number one, the express lane.

"Hello, Newshaw." I said as he walked up.

"Hello, Oddley. Have my money?" said Newshaw.

"Do I?" I said back to him.

"Don't get funny. You own me $3,000 in cash." he said.

"You know that I don't have that." I said.

"I knew that when you made the bet." he said.

"And you still let me make it anyway. Typical you, Newshaw. That's how you made all that money in high school." I said.

"I don't regret it." he said.

"I do. Some of it was mine." I said to him.

"Pay up, Oddley." he said.

"No way, you nuncluck." I said.

"I could have you killed." he then said.

"But then you wouldn't get your money and you don't have the means." I said.

"Tell you what. I'll just let you come with the method of payment and I'll see if I like it when I see you tomorrow." said Newshaw, who then left.

"What a guy he is." said the voice of Gilda behind me.

"Well, I've known him for half a decade and we still haven't warmed up to each other as friends should." I said.

"What method are you gonna use to pay him?" she then asked.

"I have no idea." I said.

It was true. I had no idea how I was gonna pay Newshaw the money, for I didn't have it or a means of getting it. I spent the rest of my workday with my brain working on the problem. By the end of the day, I was no closer to a solution than before.

That night, I decided to take Gilda to one of my favorite places, as a favor to a new friend to show her what her fellow employees, or at least one of them, does after work. That place was Harriet's Depot, an underground bar two buildings down from my apartment complex.

The name refers back to the underground railroad and Harriet Tubman. The place is located in a large basement, complete with bar and small stage for the latest in Chicago music to perform. As Gilda decended with me that night into the Depot, I could tell that she was a little nervous about this.

"I don't know about this." said Gilda as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Trust me. I've been here many times." I said.

"To do what?" asked Gilda as we reached the bar.

"To drink." I said.

"How old are you?" she then asked.

"Old enough to drink." I said, leaving it at that.

"Okay." she said as we took our seats.

"Good evening, you two. What do you want?" said a bartender as he walked up.

"Two beers, please." I said.

"Two beers, coming up." said the bartender, walking away.

"Nice place." said Gilda.

"Just another bar for the young people." I said.

"How long have you been coming here?" asked Gilda.

"For the last two years, since I moved into my apartment. They serve a mighty fine beer here." I said.

"I hope so." she said.

"Always." I said.

"Good evening, Oddley." said the voice of Newshaw behind me.

"And a good evening to you, Newshaw." I said as I turned around.

"Nice to see you out and about." said Newshaw.

"Cut it out, Newshaw. I still don't have your money or a payment plan." I said as I then turned back around.

"Oddley, believe it or not, I'm here to help you." said Newshaw as he took the stool next to me and Gilda.

"I don't believe it." I said.

"Oddley, I'm gonna help you in your thought process for a way to pay me your debt. A helping hand, so to speak." said Newshaw.

"How can you help?" I asked.

"By giving me what means you have to pay me and I'll run them over tonight and give you the answer tomorrow, instead of the other way around." said Newshaw.

"What if I could come up with something that would cancel my debt?" I asked him.

"Then I would cancel your debt, but only if it was something worthwhile." said Newshaw.

"A challenge, but one I can meet." I said.

"What could you give me that would cancel your debt?" asked Newshaw.

"There's the challenge, isn't it? Now, let me see... " I said.

"Maybe I could get my brother to play here." said Gilda.

"What kind of musician is he?" I asked her.

"He's a band musician." replied Gilda.

"What kind of band?" I asked.

"Not much. My brother plays the bass." she said.

"I see." I said.

"That's it!" yelled Newshaw after a minute of pure silence.

"What's it?" I asked.

"You'll found out tomorrow." said Newshaw, who then made his leave.

"I wonder what he has in store for me." I said to myself.

My wondering was put to rest the next day, as I was putting some cans onto a shelf. As I was finishing one small row, I heard the voice of Newshaw behind me.

"I think I found the means of cancelling your debt." he said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Love." he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I turned around.

"I mean, a chance at romance." he said.

"Keep talking." I said.

"I mean a date." he said.

"I know you don't run that way." I told him.

"I mean, a date with your sister." he then said.

"You mean Susan?" I asked.

"The one and the same." he said.

"I know that I owe you $3,000 but to use my sister to cancel my debt?" I said.

"I know it's a little weird but I need a date and I hope your sister is up to the task." he said.

"I'm not gonna use my sister to cancel my debt." I said.

"I know you will eventually." he said.

"I should probably warn you. My sister has fallen into the world of women's lib." I told him.

"What does that mean?" he asked me.

"I mean, she's with those gals who believe that a man is as useful as a fish out of water." I said.

"Surely you don't mean that at all." he said.

"I mean it, Newshaw. She fell into that world two years ago and hasn't got back to her old self." I said.

"She used to be quite the dater. That's why I decided on that to cancel your debt." he then said.

"Well, you're barking up the wrong tree." I said.

"I'll ask her myself." he said.

"Suit yourself. She's making her weekly visit to my apartment tonight. Ask her then." I said.

"I'll be there." said Newshaw before he turned and left.

I know it was silly to agree to any of that but I felt that Newshaw needed to be lead like that. It was a bit of fun at his expense. Besides, I wanted to see my sister's face when she was asked by him, a person she didn't even consider when she was a sex kitten of sorts three years before.

Eventually, as it must, night fell and I was in my apartment, getting some dinner made. As I was halfway through the making of the main course, I heard the door open and I knew that it was either Newshaw or Susan.

"Good evening, brother." I heard a female voice said.

I knew then that it was my sister Susan. She's older than me by two years. Her hair is black, so is her outfit, which is both loose and form-fitting. In her past, as stated before, she was a sex kitten until women's lib got to her. Her biggest thing now is the time she's got without a man, current total four months, five days.

"Hello, Susie." I said to her.

"It's Susan, brother. Use it right." she said.

"I always call you Susie." I said.

"Still the male chuvanist, are you?" she asked.

"I won't answer that." I said.

"Of course you won't." I said to myself.

"What's for my weekly meal with you?" asked Susan.

"You'll see, Susie." I said.

"It's no use with you." said Susan.

"I miss my sister. She was a nice person." I said.

"I'm not dead." she then said.

"I don't know who you are." I said.

"Just keeping making your meal." said Susan.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. I abandoned my cooking and walked to my front door. When I opened it, I saw the smiling face of Newshaw looking back at me.

"Hello, Oddley." he said with the cheessiest grin in the world.

"Hello, Newshaw." I said to him as he walked inside.

"Nice smells." said Newshaw.

"I take it you're here to see Susan." I said.

"I take it right." said Newshaw.

"Well, she's the girl sitted on that couch." I said, pointing her out.

"Thank you." said Newshaw as he headed over her way.

I went back to my cooking but I was able to keep an ear on Newshaw and my sister. I can remember what was said, even now.

"Hello, Mr. Newshaw." said Susan as Newshaw sat down.

"Just Newshaw." he said.

"What are you doing here?" asked Susan.

"I'm here to see Oddley, see how he's doing." he said.

"That's nice to know. I'm beginning to think that Oddley cares more about work than his own needs." she said.

"Oddley's a people person. That's why he's so good at things." he said.

"Despite calling people that word he made up." she said.

"You mean 'nuncluck'? It's a use-all word, as he puts it." he said.

"Are you gonna stay for dinner?" she asked.

"It depends." he said.

"Depends on what?" she asked.

"On wheather you'll agree to something." he said.

"And what is that?" she then asked.

"A date with me." he said.

"No." she said.

"Maybe I wasn't clear." he said.

"I mean it. I have no use for any man. Men are useless for anything except the need to continue the human race and that needs to be looked into." said Susan.

"Maybe you need to be sure." he said.

"No way. I'm right in my thinking. Good day, sir." she then said.

I then heard Newshaw get up and walk quickly and angry footsteps into the kitchen.

"Oddley, you have 30 days to pay me or suffer." said Newshaw, who then left the apartment.

"The nerve of that Newshaw, hitting on me. He's useless, like every man." said Susan.

Susan had no idea that she had signed my death warrant. I couldn't tell her the truth. It would be awful and it would only further her point. That night, I could barely sleep, for every time I shut my eyes, I saw my funeral.

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That concludes episode one of "The Life of Oddley".  I know that to some of you, this isn't much of a cliffhanger but rest assured, the following parts of the story will cliffhang correctly.  I tried to do it right but I couldn't figure out a good way to do it, so I left it alone.
 
Next week on "The Life of Oddley", Oddley tries to find an answer to his problem with Newshaw, a chance enocounter with a beautiful woman leads him to one, but that answer just might lead to Oddley's demise, one of his own creation.  That's on Thursday, August 11th, at 2:30 pm EST.
 
Until then, this is John Maxwell, saying, "If at first, you don't success, give up, no need to be a spoilsport about it."