[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments on Martia's sub

[Leonard Tuchyner]

Thisdoes give a Veronica eye view on the town and her background. 

Shegives the impression that she doesn’t like the place she is in, 

or  probably none of the places she’s been in. 

Idon’t  think she had a positive view ofherself. 

Shedoesn’t know who she is  or how she fitsin. 

It is strange,but she is probably very much like her mother, 

as muchas she avoids being under her sway. 

She mayhave her life worked out with a plan, 

but sheisn’t  headed to a good life. 

Theseare just my impressions of Veronica. 

Somebodie  else’s impressions may be much different thanmine.  

Thepiece accomplishes what you want it too 

Ithelps me to identify with Vieronica and her perceptions.

 

Martiasub for Nov 22

 

 

1273words

 

 

 

Veronica

 

Why was I killing time in a sleepy town stuck inthe middle of nowhere? The simple answer, I was desperate to escape thepaparazzi. No one in Doe Lake recognized me. As red-headed Veronica Barringer,I bore little resemblance to my blond bombshell mother whose stage name was MiaCastle. Fortunately, I took after my absentee father, a man of no importance,in looks and name.

 

My soap opera star mother had hoped I wouldpursue a modeling or acting career like her, but that appealed to me about asmuch as diving into a hill of biting ants. In Hollywood, the gossip ragsrelentlessly hounded her. Droves of ravenous rats stalked my mom for money or ashare of the spotlight.

 

By the time I was 12, the glamour and glitz ofHollywood had worn thin. I convinced Mom to send me away to a boarding schoolin the northeast so I could escape the fans who wanted to touch anyone in herorbit. And by touch, I mean literally. I was pinched and patted by the paradeof actors, gossip mongers, and a revolving door of stepfathers who crowded usat every turn.

 

At boarding school, I was welcomed by othergirls whose wealthy parents also under-valued their children. Without lovingfamilies, we learned to value friendship and loyalty instead. At the same time,I discovered a love for reading which spawned my interest in a writing career.Later, I earned my communications degree at a remote college for girls in NewEngland.

 

That tells you a lot of nothing about me, otherthan I was neglected by both my parents, leaving me to find my own way as aliberated woman in the 70s with a college degree in hand. When my advisorpointed me to a job opening at the Millwood Furniture factory in ruralMichigan, it seemed the perfect opportunity to continue my subterfuge.

 

I didn’t intend to remain in Doe Lake for Long.My trust funds would be released the next summer when I turned 26, then Iplanned to hole up in a New England cabin and write my first novel. Meanwhile,my salary at Millwood was generous, allowing me to settle into a modern town homeon the outskirts of town. My allowance from Mom was ample, so I indulged myselfwith a new Camaro.

 

I couldn’t complain about my situation, otherthan I was isolated and lonely without my school friends. I had little tonothing in common with the women in Doe Lake who were all about marriage andmaking babies. I was a big city girl out of water in a small town. I wanted toblend in, to fit in, to appear invisible, but I stuck out like a sore thumb. Itwas impossible to avoid the prying eyes of Doe Lake’s nosey locals.

 

Fortunately, my demanding job provided theperfect distraction. Millwood Furniture was tucked away in a dead-end town, butits products were aggressively marketed nationally. I pumped out copy forbrochures, advertisements, and press releases. I traveled frequently for tradeshows in Chicago, Dallas, Manhattan, and L.A. Millwood’s high-end hardwoodoffice products furnished Fortune 500 companies and government entities on alarge scale.

 

I had no intention of complicating my situationby dating. At work, I declined any and all invitations to go out, using theexcuse that business and pleasure didn’t mix. Whether from a big city or smalltown, men were all the same. They only wanted to poke and prod the merchandise.For 25 years, I had successfully evaded the charismatic charms of hot-bloodedwoman-hunters. I knew all too well a man’s sex appeal didn’t guaranteehappiness. My own father was a good looker, but he had disappeared soon afterlearning my mother was pregnant.

 

Unfortunately, fending off the attention of DoeLake’s most intrepid bachelor, Officer Hank Braun, proved more difficult. Theguy was gorgeous, after all. Unlike a TV star, Hank didn’t require make-up orspecial lighting to bring out his rugged good looks and sex appeal. He was awalking billboard for what a woman desires in a man. Best to steer clear of thebig buck, I tried to convince myself.

 

I first met Officer Braun when he answered acall for a motorist assist. I had locked myself out of my Camaro at work. Itwas after hours. I had worked late to prepare for an upcoming trade show. Iwaved down the patrol car, blinded by the advancing headlights. My car was easyto spot in the deserted Millwood parking lot.

 

“Howdy, maam.” I flinched at the countrycourtesy as the officer approached. “My name is Officer Braun, Hank Braun. Niceride you’ve got there. How can I help?”

 

“I’ve locked my keys in the car,” I explained.“Can you unlock the door?”

 

The cop peered through the driver’s door windowand said, “Sorry, but my slim jim won’t work. Looks like your car’s got thosenew-fangled power locks.”

 

“Isn’t there a new-fangled tool you can use,” Iasked, cinching the belt of my rain coat to keep out the night air.

 

“I can call a locksmith, but Charlie’s notlikely to come out tonight.”

 

“What kind of locksmith doesn’t come out afterhours?” I complained.

 

“The kind with six kids and one on the way,” thecop said.

 

“You mean to tell me there’s only one locksmithin town?” I pulled up my collar in exasperation.

 

“One is more than enough,” Hank laughed. “Mostpeople don’t bother to lock their doors around here.” Officer Braun’s amusementput me on the defensive.

 

“Well, I can’t spend the night in my office.What am I supposed to do now?”

 

“I can warm you up in my squad car,” the copsuggested. “If I give you a lift home, maybe you’ll invite me in forcoffee…then give me your phone number.”

 

Braun might be the most attractive guy I’d evermet, but I was wary of his silky-smooth advances.

 

“I’ll give you my address,” I said, “but I’llkeep my phone number to myself, thank you.”

 

“Aw, don’t worry none,” Braun grinned. “I justmean to give your number to Charlie so he can call you in the morning.”

 

“Why don’t you give me Charlie’s number,” Icountered. “I can call him tomorrow myself.”

 

“Have it your way, Veronica. I can always getyour number from Charlie,” Hank shrugged.

 

“Hey, how do you know my name? I don’t think Igave it to the dispatcher when I called for assistance.”

 

“It’s a small town,” Braun said. “Everyone knowseveryone around here – especially pretty girls from out of town like you.”

 

“So, you know my name…you probably have myaddress already,” I chided.”

 

“Thought I’d be friendly and ask, but you’reright. You live in one of the new town homes east of town, right? Hop in. It’smy job to look out for helpless women, you know, to maintain public safety andall that.”

 

Warning bells were going off in my head. OfficerBraun might be handsome, but he was too familiar for my comfort. I also sensedsomething about the man that spelled “danger,” although I couldn’t quite put myfinger on it.

 

“Never mind,” I said, turning back to my office.“I’ll ask Millwood’s security guard to drive me home. I’m sure you’ve got moreimportant things to do.”

 

“You mean pretty boy Pete? I wouldn’t encouragethe guy if I was you.“

 

“I don’t intend to encourage any of the guysaround here, including you,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away.

 

# # #

 

 




 
 
Leonard I. Tuchyner, Author
 
https://www.dldbooks.com/tuchyner/

 
  
 
 

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