"The Goddess"

Readers, beware. This is a long post with a medium-sized introduction.

For fifteen years before I became the features editor at The Herald-News, I was a freelance writer, homeschool mother, and (with my family) one of those people that delivered newspapers in the middle of the night.

In 2007, the Chicago Tribute assumed the delivery portion of all Sun Times products (including The Herald-News), and, due to the way my routes fell, I now had three routes with three different supervisors.

One of those supervisors was Ed Calkins, a very dyslexic, would-be novelist with an active imagination. He had created an alter for himself and a community for the carriers, which had its own traditions and celebrations, arranged by Ed. 

He also had nicknames for many of the carriers and other workers. Dan, a supervisor assistant, was Prime Minister of this community. We all knew when Audrey came into the center because Ed would cry, "All hail, Audrey the Magnificent!"

I was Paper Goddess (later shortened to "Goddess") because I single-handedly took out more papers than any other carrier: about 958. Along with Ron, we took out approximately 1,300 every day.

To further underscore my title, Ed always presented the day's paperwork to me on bended knee. And if he was gone, his workers were instructed to also present the paperwork to me on bended knee.

So when I was about two-thirds done writing my first novel, Bryony, in early 2008, and had missed yet another Calkins Day celebration (Feb. 13, Ed's birthday) by getting to the center too late (the celebration lasted all of five minutes), I offered Ed a place in the book, as himself, as the world's first Irish vampire.

We actually had an attorney draw up the paperwork. 

One of the fans of my series asked me to write the back story of the fictional Ed Calkins. But I felt that was a project only Ed should tackle.

However, except for posts for this blog that Ed writes as his fictional self, addressed to me under another nickname: M.O.M.I. (Mistress of My Immortality), Ed has stopped writing fiction because, as he once said in real life and said to a character in one of my books, "I'm so dyslexic, even spellcheck doesn't recognize me."

And yet, Ed did promise to consider it.

And then one day, he blew up my personal email with parts of all the first drafts of chapter's he's written. He's hoping to have the book ready for publication by 2121 (as he wrote to me this morning), as he fully aware it will need plenty of editing, which I'll be happy to provide.

The real fun of all this for me is that I took a person's alter ego, fictionalized it, and now he's written the fictional back story of that fictionalized version of himself by fictionalizing the fiction I wrote with this character.

He's promised to change anything I don't like (since he's based things off my books), but I found myself laughing so hard at his takes I don't plan on changing a thing.

OK, this has turned into a long-ish introduction.

But now that you have the backstory, here is an excerpt from Ed's book, published without his permission (because I am Goddess, and I don't need his permission), in its raw, unedited form (except for some spell check).

The main character. Trudy, is at Ed Calkins' wake. While there, she meets the Goddess, who shows her a vision of the distribution center where newspaper carriers get the papers ready for delivery.

Yes, the Goddess. The pretend me.

But the wackiest holiday that Ed insisted on celebrating was his own birthday, located on the days of February 12, Lincoln's birthday and Valentine’s day on the fourteen. Eddie joked that the purpose of his life was to do something that would make a three-day holiday that even news carriers could celebrate. “Calkins Day” as he called it needed a parade and they would have one right in the warehouse.

              Trudy notice the last grouping of coworkers found where the other two where and joined them. This group had a fair mix of Arabic workers speaking the language. Some of the women wore head scarfs. This facility was also no stranger to Eddie’s strange way of celebrating nor his proposals of marriage.

              It was good to hear of Eddie being remembered fondly, but Trudy was getting bored. Most of the schemes and stories weren’t so funny or interesting when Eddie told her about them the first time. Looking around, Trudy notice Jane had slipped out. Trudy took her example.

              Before she could walk away, Trudy spotted the woman approaching the group. She could feel the energy, the woman seemed to be walking on springs. Spotting a black brim hat and black overcoat, Trudy now realized that she knew the woman that Sheriff Matt feared. The freelance reporter was also a carrier who had several routes, one with Ed and shared them with her family. Thinking it prudent, she got up from her seat and approached the hard-working reporter.

              “You’re the Goddess, are you not?”

              To that, she smiled and nodded energetically. “Yes, I am,” she stated with a comical pride.

              “So you too have a double mission.” Trudy opened her jacket just enough for the Goddess to see her badge.

              “Look, I know that the county is broke, but I’m hoping it doesn’t keep a murder free. I know it sound crazy, but it isn’t the guy you think it is, it’s John!”

              Was it the pills, or just a magic that happens when I journalist informs a poet? The Goddess told her story and Trudy went into trance, feeling the cool of the morning and smelling the sweat of the bagging coworkers barely awake and apprehensive about an uninvited representative. The presents of a division manager at this time of the morning meant that Ed was in trouble.

              “When I email you with a problem, I expect you to take care of it! If you want to be a clown, join the circus.”

              The tall, thin, aged man poked his finger painfully into Ed’s chest. If it were Trudy, or maybe anyone else, that man would need a new face, but Ed kept his hands on his hips and pronounced steadily. “That paper was delivered since the day it started three days ago.”

              Jake slapped his hand on a stuffing table and turned away in disgust. Sharply to turned back toward Ed, putting his face in biting distance.

              “There! See? Is everyone that worked for the ‘Examiner’ as stupid as you? You want to be everyone’s friend. You have cook outs and decorate, but the carriers lie to you because they don’t want to put this paper on the porch!”

              Eddie’s ears where red before the word ‘lie’ got thrown. Red ears meant that Ed was enraged. But now, his whole face was beet red. Ed was delivering that route himself. Barely containing his rage, he told Jake that who started to mock Ed’s voice, competence and credibility. The bashing went on for most of 15 minutes. Carriers said nothing but were clearly getting mad in Ed’s defense.

              But the Goddess called Trudy’s attention to another tall, slim man who had finished bagging and watched the confrontation dispassionately. He seemed to be waiting for something. On most days, John Simons brought his cute young son to ‘help’. The boy and Ed had a special connection, and before the Jake got there, Ed questioned the boy’s absence but got only reassurance that the boy was not ill.

              “I’m checking that house this morning and they don’t have a paper, you don’t get a paycheck, stupid!”

              Ed had enough.

              “I quit!” he shouted and walked toward the door.”

              “Good!” Jake shouted at his back. “Take all these losers you call carriers with you!”

              Jake must have realized it was actually dangerous for him to stay and slipped away before the shocked carriers had a change to react. Already one of them, a youngish Hispanic woman ran to intercept Ed, trying to calm him, lest he lose a job he needed.

              But Ed had already started back. He couldn’t quit because there was no one he could get in touch with to tell them he was no longer working. Jake could talk about withholding a paycheck till he was blue in the face, but Ed didn’t work for Jake. Jake actually had no business even talking to Ed, because the newspaper that hired Jake, had a contract with Ed’s boss, Robert who never answered his phone before nine, and not Ed who actually ran things.

              “I need a digital camera,” Ed muttered as he finished bagging the last of the unfilled route. He’s cellphone did not take pictures like some of the newer phones did. “Or better yet, let them fire me, I’d love to see who they’d replace me with.”

              “I’ll take a picture,” the young women volunteer. “Just tell me the address.”

              “200 Tomas”

              And so he was off.

              Not six seconds later John Simons left in a sudden hurry.

              “Creepy, isn’t it?” The Goddess asked. “And what’s creepier is the Ed’s van was found at the beginning of the route. He had only delivered it three or four times in a row and the route had tricky turns so he would have followed the route list. But when Rob went to get the papers, there were only the extra’s that Ed takes with him lest someone be short. More than that, the complaints on the route should have been massive, but there was only one.

              “200 Tomas. I take it that address if fairly close to the beginning of the route.”

              “Exactly, only two streets down. Only one person besides Ed knew that route well enough to get it done on time; John Simons who had the route before, but took a different, more difficult route that paid less. So we have three people meeting in the area and about the time that Ed was shot across from a park that rumored to be haunted on a route too creepy for anyone to do. What I’d like to know is, are any of those three people suspects?”

              “We have a fourth suspect with more evidence,” Trudy answered painfully. “But I would like to hear your theory on what might have happened.

              This made the Goddess visibly uncomfortable.

              “It could be that Tomasa, the young woman who promised the picture, but was afraid of the area took more than a camera with her. Maybe she saw Jake harassing Ed through his driver side window and shot at him but hit Ed. Jake didn’t report it because he wasn’t supposed to be confronting a contractor that the paper didn’t contract. The pair of them left before Simons found the bound and called the police.” The doubt was in her voice.

              “But that doesn’t explain how the route got done. Please tell me what you really think happened…maybe what you fear happened, no matter how strange. We’re not on the record.”

              “I don’t think that either Jake or Tomasa went to 200 Tomas as they said, because the area IS haunted. Fog shows up from nowhere and people hear women screaming at night. What I think…what I fear, but I’ve heard whispers before is…. well John Simons is a vampire.”

              “You think that John Simons killed Eddie and made him a vampire. That would explain the route being finished. Eddie did it after he was killed, the returned with his truck to the spot he was shot.”

              The Goddess seemed a mixture of surprise and terror that her theory was taken seriously.

              “It also explains the lead ball found near the body. The weapon that fired that is at least a hundred years old. It also explains why the body was almost drained of blood, but the puddles on the truck floor weren’t inches deep. Also, John Simons, who never missed a day before, hasn’t done his route since. His wife and boy have come in instead.”

              Trudy had heard none of this. Doubt stabbed her. Could someone else have killed Eddie. She remember sadness but no guilt as she stumbled to Bathrobe’s bed that morning after her shift. Or was it. Did she go back to the department to punch out before going home? Trudy knew she could play sober no matter how dunk she got, or she could have been so upset she just drove directly to Bathrobes house. No, wait, Bathrobes gun was empty; she was sure of that. She also remember that she shot Eddie and not with a 38 revolver, but maybe that was self-defense. Ed could have tried to bite her, or maybe she saw this Simons trying to bite Eddie, shot, and hit Eddie instead.

              A dreadful thought pleased her. She could get away with this. No jail. No way to ever really be sure she was guilty and maybe she could live in the doubt.

              “There’s something I can’t tell you right now,” Trudy finally told the waiting Goddess. “I know something else about the case, the county, and the department but I need time to mourn my friend. Give me five days and I promise I’ll tell you everything I know before I tell anyone else. Do we have a deal?”

              The Goddess still was wearing that surprise and fear cocktail since she mixed it. There was just a trance of fatigue as well born of doing routes, interviewing, writing, and attending a wake to top it all off. Now, all of that surrendered to a smile as she nodded and shook hands. “We have a deal.”

              Where did the Goddess get her energy?

              Eddie, the vampire. Why did that not seem farfetched?

Below, Ed Calkins recreates his ceremonial pose as he hands the Goddess a candy cane, which he traditionally hands out to carriers during the month of December.