Genre: Contemporary Fiction, Short Stories
Conversation is more than just words being spoken, interpreted, and acted upon by others. Conversation is also the ultimate human interest activity, bringing people into direct contact with people in all of their complexity and vulnerability. The main characters in Parker's ten multi-genre stories set in the heart of Appalachia want to be heard; to have others listen to them-really listen-and understand their needs and concerns.
The characters in these stories do not always get listened to, and many of them find that the need for attention comes from aggression. A woman confronts her father about his dementia. Two fathers whose guilt and shame over the disappearances of their sons hide more sinister motives. A young boy frustrated with a ring appraisal learns a lesson about how people and things can be valued equally. Each of the characters in the collection is faced with a balance of talking and listening with a need for action, which often leads to manipulation and coercion.
The characters in these stories want to be heard; to have others listen to them-really listen-and understand their needs and concerns. However, when they do not get listened to, there is often an attempted persuasion by aggression. One character often finds himself/herself faced with another character who believes that conversation has no place in their lives.
The belief of the antagonists in these stories is that- who needs to talk when there is action that needs to be done? The antagonists believe that there is no need for conversation when the protagonist can be manipulated, coerced, or discredited by actions. Each story is a thrilling adventure with unexpected turns. Parker's honest and provocative prose will captivate readers with its urgency.
Excerpt
From the Stars Above
There was something about him that kept him going. He was a man of conviction.
Tabitha had been jogging in the park and was surprised that on a warm, fall evening, she was the only person jogging on the trails. The greenery around her became charcoal and the grey path was melting into the night.
His figure was discernable as she ran closer. To avoid scaring him, she slowed her run. As the distance between her and the man grew larger, Tabitha studied him intently. He was tall and courtly, with strands of white in his hair. He walked about with no particular destination in mind.
Tabitha squinted below the low-hanging moon. It had been a typical fall day in Southern Ohio. The dry, sharp, and prickly smell that permeated the air when Tabitha was out on her early morning run had been replaced with the rustling noise of orange maple leaves that floated around the sidewalks. The howling wind snaked between the rough and ragged trunks of the sweet gum trees that lined the park.
She thought about the man for a moment longer. There was something about him that hinted at there being more. He wore a button-down, red plaid shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of brown sneakers. But was that really unique? Maybe it was the face. Tabitha decided to break the silence to learn more. “Sir, are you alright?” Tabitha locked her gaze dead ahead.
The old man had not heard her, so he kept walking. Tabitha heard the snaps of twigs ahead as his feet were jabbed by leaves and pebbles on the path.
“Sir?” The park grew ever darker. Tabitha had been taking early evening runs in the park for several years and she knew that soon the shadows of the trees would blend into the blackness and his silhouette would grow less pronounced. She looked up and caught a glimpse of the moon as a dark cloud drew close, threatening to erase its silver rays. Tabitha felt her heart continue to slam into her chest, despite the lack of running. She had an elderly mother herself at home and knew people their age should not be left alone meandering in the dark. Before Tabitha could call out again, the man stopped walking and slowly turned around.
“Lance,” said the man. “My name is Lance.”
“Alright, Lance, I’m Tabitha,” she said, introducing herself. “What, may I ask, are you doing here by yourself?”
Lance did not respond, but Tabitha knew he had not heard her question. His sea-blue eyes were rheumy and the corners flecked with dry tears. His eyes pulsed with intensity, but they darted back and forth like he was expecting something to happen at any second.
Tabitha had seen that look before. Her mother often gave the same facial expressions. Though the doctors had not made any diagnosis, she had researched all of her symptoms, including the hesitant steps and difficulty with visuospatial tasks such as going up and down stairs. It was dementia. Could Lance be suffering from the same disease? Tabitha blinked away the thought. She had only watched Lance for several seconds and his indicators could be caused by other conditions. What was considered normal for every individual was always different.
Before Tabitha could say anything else, Lance threw up his arms, then dug a heel into the path and spun around. In another flurry of motion, Lance was scurrying off in the opposite direction from where Tabitha had caught him.
Confused and worried, she went after him, knowing it was the right thing to do. His shadow grew tight and narrow as he turned around a sharp bend in the path, disappearing into a dark maw between the space of two large tree trunks. Tabitha retrieved her iPhone from her pocket and called 911. “Lance, wait!” she called after him when he had sauntered dangerously away from her line of sight.
“911, what’s your emergency?” said a woman from the other side of the phone. Tabitha was forced to divide her attention between going after Lance and talking on her phone.
“Please send someone to the trail lane at Jackson Lake State Park. I, I mean we, just passed marker 404. A man needs help. Please hurry.”
“Is he in immediate danger? What’s going on, ma’am?” asked the woman with a rote tone of formality.
“No, nothing serious. He is old and lost, dawdling around at a time like this … I look after my mom. She has dementia. He’s … it’s…” Tabitha had a feeling she could not explain. Something in her gut. “I—I think this man, Lance, has dementia, too.” But just when Tabitha thought she had caught up with Lance, he had disappeared.
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