Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Harbor Shores
Oblivious to all of this are the happy residents of Harbor Shores going on with their lives without a care in the world. These residents live a happy-go-lucky life every day. It's almost like living on a perpetual vacation.
When entering, the first thing one sees is a cylindrical domed structure standing high above overlooks the community. It could just be a façade. It's been there for so long, no one knows for sure.
It is a lovely Sunday morning in this charming waterfront neighborhood. A plethora of beachgoers enjoying the beautiful day offered up to them by Mother Nature. Children laughing. Loons passing in by in perfect formation. Seagulls cawing as they fly by. Going in complete disorder, just avoid crashing into each other.
A panoramic scene spread among the landscape, with amazing ocean views. Canoers on the blue harbor waters rowing at an even pace. Paddle boarders struggling to stay afloat. And on the docks the lucky few with boat slips hosing down their yachts.
Next to this picturesque scenario are raised structures above a body of water, supported by piles of pillars leading to a boardwalk. Next to this pier is a bunch of harbor view apartments. The best ones are the view by the docks. If one ever comes available, renters snatch them up right away.
One such couple did. However, not after constant inquires of the property. They eyed this place for a while, calling nearly every day. When they heard that a bay view apartment opened up, they went down and signed the paperwork. The man, a lanky figure with his short hair parted down the middle, jumps out of a classic 1956 Ford Thunderbird. This aspiring beast tamer will eventually receive his first beast from this sleepy village and be its unsuspecting chief.
Right behind him is a very pretty ash-blonde woman wearing Versace sunglasses. She takes them off and surveys the place. A smile appears on her face.
A plunk sound catches her attention. She opens her Chanel purse and pulls out a cell phone. "Oh, Adam, it's a text from the moving company."
"What does it say Ashley?"
She puts the sunglasses above her head so it rests on her head. She searches for better light. "It's from dispatch. The truck won't be in until tomorrow."
"Let me have the phone," he tells Ashely. He clicks on the phone number and it rings. After going back and forth with dispatch, it dawns on him. "This is Sunday. Crap. I did not figure that part out of our calculations. I guess we lose a day and have no furniture to sleep on."
With nothing else to do, the couple decides to take a walk around the harbor. Something they have dying to do since they go there. The loving couple strolls hand in hand along the little boardwalk along the docks lined with food and drink vendors.
To the entire world, they seem very much in love. Confident in expressing that love, they stroll through this New England-inspired neighborhood, and the couple feels the harbor breeze across their face.
A shrieking sound disturbs them. Adam thought it was a Pterodactyl. As it gets close, Ashely said, that is a heron. "You know, it's one of those birds with lanky skinny legs."
"Are you sure that's not a crane?"
An old hag of a woman interrupts them. Her shriek is just as bad as the heron. "That reminds me of my late husband and me. We used to love to walk along the harbor."
Adam muttered under his breath, "Like I said, 'crane'."
They responded back to her introducing themselves. "My name is Ashley. Ashely Belfort. And this is my husband Adam."
The couple walks over to her. The woman's brute of a dog greets them. Without warning, he jumps all over Adam. "Bruno! How many times must I tell you not to do that?"
"Don't worry. He is adorable. But, my husband is not accustomed to animals."
He leans over to pet the dog, "No, that's not true. I love dogs."
"Well, then he must come along with us," the old woman said.
"Come along?" Adam responds.
"Yes, I must show you around the best parts of San Diego."
"But, we have already—" Adam said.
"—nonsense, you have not seen San Diego until Mrs. McCluskey shows you around."
"Who?" Ashely asks.
"Oh, I didn't introduce myself. Agnes McCluskey. The name is Irish… I think. It came from my late husband who explained the entire story, but it was so boring that I tuned him out. I always tuned him out."
Ashely laughed, "He must have been boring a lot."
Mrs. McCluskey joins in. "In every way possible my dearie. If you get my meaning."
Adam cannot help but think that they are talking about him.
They get into Mrs. McCluskey's car. They try to make excuses to get out of the car ride, but the woman just took it as being modest. Ashley sits in front with her and Adam squeezes in the back. With Bruno still in her hand, Mrs. McCluskey tosses him on Adam's lap.
During the entire ride, the dog kept licking his face. He could not get him to stop. The more he pushed the dog's face away, the more the dog came towards his face. Adam thinks to himself. I cannot stand slobbering beasts.
Mrs. McCluskey zooms around the San Diego area, zooming through multi-lane traffic, honking at those that get in her way. All the while looking back at them, and not keeping her eyes on the road. She talks away acting like a tour guide explaining every corner on every street to them. As much as they loved it, they really wanted to survey their new community. Mrs. McCluskey takes them everywhere around town, going past specialty stores, tall buildings, even the row of vintage warships. Mrs. McCluskey parks the car and they walk among them Ashely walks up the giant statue of the WWII sailor kissing a stranger on Times Square. She kisses Adam and replicates the pose. Mrs. McCluskey takes a picture.
With the orange-filled dusk sky, the day is finally over. The next stop is the inside of Mrs. McCluskey's apartment. Adam and Ashley move gingerly along with tired feet after a long day sight-seeing.
As they walk inside, they notice that Mrs. McCluskey does not have as nice of a view like Adam and Ashely do. Adam's stomach makes a loud grumping sound. Wide-eyed, Ashley looks at him. However, Mrs. McCluskey does not miss a beat as she shows them around her apartment. Not once throughout the day did Mrs.McCluskey stop to get something to eat. Adam mentions it to Ashley, "Should we say something?"
"I'm sure she will feed us… sometime… I hate to say anything being that she was so kind to take us around." They both stare at her waiting for her to offer them food. Or maybe even go out to eat. Instead, she goes to the refrigerator, takes out a box of half-eaten pizza, and plops it on the counter.
She never asks them to help themselves. She just takes a piece and walks away to her room leaving them alone.
They just stare at the pizza, then at themselves, and then back at the pizza, "Should we?" Adam said.
"I'm not sure. Is that a sign for us to help ourselves?" They stand there with their mouths open, drooling the entire time.
After what seems like forever, Mrs. McCluskey walks out of her room. "You can grab a paper plate that is above the fridge and help yourself to some pizza if you are hungry."
Not wanting to look desperate, Ashley slowly reaches for a paper plate. However, Adam is not so nice. He grabs a plate and a couple pieces. Ashley chides him, "Put one back. Only take one."
Hungry, Adam's hand trembles as he picks up a piece. He puts it to his mouth and he has a nasty feeling he is being watched. It's Mrs. McCluskey's dog Bruno. The dog will not leave him alone. Through squinty eyes, he glares at Adam. Then licks his chops as drool just drips down. He wants that pizza real bad.
Mrs. McCluskey comes in and grabs the rest of the pizza. Then she goes into the living room and eats her pizza by the TV. Adam wants to set somewhere to eat his cold pizza, but the chairs are covered with boxes. With his hands occupied, he puts the plate of pizza on the table. He puts the boxes on the ground. Finally, moves to take the cold dinner when Bruno snatches the pizza from the plate.
He is stunned. He did not even get one bite. Now it's dog food. "Um, Mrs. McCluskey… um, Agnes… Bruno grabbed my pizza," hoping she would chastise the dog.
"Where did you put the pizza?"
"On the table."
"Well," she looks back at Adam, "That's your fault for leaving it there," and proceeds to shove the rest of her pizza down her throat.
****
With a loud beeping sound, a moving van backs into the only space available, forced to double park. The residents of Harbor Shores are so laid back, no one even cares.
Even though Adam knew it was moving day, he still dressed up in slacks with a woolen vest over a shirt and tie. He always dresses nice, even when moving. He walks up to the truck and the driver swings the back hatch with a thud. Excited, Adam looks in, but notices only boxes. "What happened?"
"Well, use sees the furniture truck is still stuck in Nevada… I tink. The heat from Arizona might have caused a meltdown. There is no telling."
"So, what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
The driver takes one look at Adam's wife Ashley and says, "If you can't figure it out by yose self, then you are wasting this beautiful view."
Ashley, who is really good-looking, giggles. Adam turns to her, "I thought you don't take to idol flattery?"
"Hey," Ashley said, "If the man is right… he is right." He walks over to her and puts his arms around her. He nibbles on her ear. "Stop. Everyone is watching. They may actually think we are in love." She lets out a chuckle.
"Oh, but we are," he turns her around and kisses her on the lips.
"What are you trying to say Mr. Belfort? Are you guilty of loving your wife?"
"Guilty as charged Mrs. Belfort."
The driver makes a cartoon noise trying to get their attention. "I know, I know. I promised to move the boxes for the discount rate. I'll be right there… boss." Adam shakes his head. "I have a half a mind not to pay him."
Adam works hard trying to keep up with the driver carries three boxes on his dolly to Adams two. He tilts it back and the boxes fall backwards. "Here," says the driver, "Let me show use once again. 'Ya hafta get your footing really good… like this. And then tilt back." The driver does it as if the boxes weigh nothing. "Exchange places with me and takes these. I'll pick up the ones that fell."
Picking up the pace, Adam gets up to the ramp that covers the stairs and has to fight to prevent them from toppling over. Ashely catches him. "You have never worked a day in your life."
"Yes, I have." He picks up a towel and wipes his brow. "I worked that warehouse job right out of college."
"That? You barely lasted a month."
"That's because I landed the newspaper job soon after."
"Newspaper. Like who reads them anymore?"
"Well, it paid for that nice house in Arizona."
She sees the driver coming in with another load. "You are just trying to stall so you can get out of doing your fair share."
Adam turns around and smacks her butt with the towel. "I'll show you work."
After exerting himself all day in bringing the boxes into their new apartment, Ashely pulls the tape open on one of the boxes. She pulls out some items that is so heavily wrapped, one cannot tell what it was. She rips it open and drops the bubble wrap on the floor. "Ah, coffee mugs.
Adam replies, "Now all we need is the coffee maker and we are in business." He bends over to pick up fallen bubble wrap and stops.
"What's wrong?"
"I think it's my back. I might need a good rub down tonight."
"I guess my knight in shining armor is a little tarnished."
****
After a few days of movers coming in and out with the furniture, Adam and Ashley finally get to enjoy their new apartment. He places his arms around her while they stare out at the harbor view from their patio. "Just think, we get to look at this every day."
"I will never grow tired of it." She gazes out towards the horizon framing the harbor like a picture perfect stock photo on a search engine.
"This was the right decision to move here."
She smiles and cuddles into his arms. "You are my knight in shining armor."
"How so," he responded as he snuggles closer to her.
"You saved me from a life of boredom in that vast wasteland of the desert."
"And would never be able to do this either," he picks up two glasses from the patio table and hands them to her. He takes his glass of merlot and toasts her. They toast to a new life.
"You never liked to do this before." She said.
"I like wine."
"No, sit and do nothing. You never did this at the old place. We even had a patio and everything."
"The old place never had a view like this." He takes a deep breath to savor the moment. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" He puts the glass down on the table, then puts her glass down as well. Then locks his lips against hers and embraces in a long passionate kiss.
"Why are you being so nice?" she responds.
"I am always nice," he reminds her. He grabs their glasses of wine and walks inside. "Want more wine?" Ashely breaks eye contact with him. She has that look on her face like she doesn't buy it. She informs him that she will lose the man she loves unless he overcomes his lack of ambition. Her face is stone cold. He looks at her and smiles, but nothing. Always on the defensive, he responds, "Didn't I cook dinner tonight?"
"I wasn't talking about that." She exhales. "You are avoiding something… what is it?" He responds by telling her he does not know what she is talking about. "I guess I am in love with an unambitious man." He turns around to respond back, but groans. "It's your back again, huh?" She says.
"I think I overdid it moving those boxes," Adam squirms in his chair. "I might need a good rub down tonight."
"I guess my knight in shining armor is a little tarnished." She shakes her head in disgust. "That's because you never have done a real man's work before. Just sitting at a desk wasting time."
He crosses his legs, "I thought we went through this already? Might I remind you that 'wasting time' paid the bills?"
She gives him a side-glance. "Well, not lately. When are you going to get a real job?" Her voice may have raised a notch, but she does not yell at him. She never yells. But the tone in her voice sets Adam seething.
"We discussed that. We have the Nest Egg remember?" In his attempt to diffuse the bomb that is about to go off, his heartbeat pounds. Once again, defending myself. "This is so I can write my book. And during that time I will submit articles on my blog. It's not easy being a struggling freelance writer." He pulls out his laptop and shows her notes for future articles, but she is not interested.
"Yeah, freelance means you work for free with no money coming in." She taps her finger on the countertop to release pent-up energy. This bothers Adam to no end. "Your entire reasoning for moving to this beachside community was to be inspired to write the great American novel," she replies talking through her teeth. She picks up his laptop and scrolls through it. "Look, you haven't gone past page one."
"I have notes of what I want to say… I just haven't said it yet."
"What's the problem? You use to whip out pages before."
"That's when I used to be a journalist. I loved to dig deep into a story like a puzzle and put it together." His eyes lit up with childlike exuberance.
She opens up his blog, "Vast Void" and points to his numbers. "Meanwhile your subscriptions are low. People are even dropping you Adam."
Excited, he takes the laptop from her. Then he opens a folder on "future ideas for stories".
He says, "I have a lead on the Fukushima spill."
"That happened what? Over five years ago… maybe longer."
"If you only knew what the ramifications were to the wildlife there. Some are just rumors and I will have to of course check them out first, but—"
She throws her hands in the air. "The fickled public has probably forgotten about it by now. That is in a faraway land. Why should I care here in America?"
He scrolls down, "I even heard that the wine crops you love so much are being affected by it."
"You say all of this and try to prove to me that you are doing something. And yet you never seem to get anything written." She ambles in his direction and looks him straight into the eyes. "The person you need to convince is yourself."
He drops his shoulders in frustration. He knows she is correct. Writer Adam holds the laptop in his hands and stares at his page. He is well aware that he is losing touch with his public. He scans through the headers of potential articles. They are just not salable material he tells himself. He slams closed his laptop in frustration.
Later that night, as they go to sleep, Adam goes on the computer as Ashley goes through her nightly routine. While looking at all of these unconnected ideas for stories, he shifts his attention out at the beautiful New England-style community. The images of the day pass through his mind while the moon glistens over the harbor waters.
What makes this community so special? The people! They don't hesitate in voicing their frustrations with all of the changes. He was taught in college to write what you know. Instead of a blog, why not write a newsletter about the comings and goings of the neighborhood of Harbor Shores?
There will have to be a masthead. Oh, I can use my Photoshop program to design it. Excited, Adam pictures the many issues pumped out by the printer they just bought. Motivated by the new design, he taps away on the keys to his computer.
Early risers got a treat to one of the most beautiful mornings one can witness courtesy of the San Diego community of Harbor Shores. One of those taking advantage of it is Ashley Belfort. As she wakes up and she stretches her arms in the air, making a slight purr. She smiles as she notices this beautiful view from their bedroom window.
Wanting to share this moment with Adam, she turns around to his side of the bed. She looks over to wake him and is startled that Adam is not there. Maybe he already beat me to the amenities here. He talked about using the workout room. She laughs to herself. I cannot see him pumping iron on those machines.
She will at least get breakfast ready so they can look around some more at the surroundings of their neighborhood. Meet more people. Walk around the community. Get a feel of the lay of the land.
In the process of putting the coffee into the filter, she looks out onto the patio when she realizes that Adam is already out there. Oh, he is on the computer. She smiles. She does not want to disturb him. Maybe with the inspiration of this picturesque layout, he will get inspired to finish one of his many projects.
As she finishes the coffee, she brings his cup out to him. It seems that he did not notice her at first. Then he jumps out of his skin. Slyly, he quickly presses a button on the keyboard. When she glances over at the screen, she notices a window minimizing.
Her smile drops. Instead of working on the computer, she catches Adam checking out social media instead. "Nothing changes," she says in disgust.
"What are you talking about?"
She points to the screen. "That… that. You are not fooling me."
Embarrassed, he quipped back, "I am checking the trending topics to see if there is anything new for me to write about."
Does he expect me to believe that line of bull? How can he sit there all day reading memes of the day when the world outside is so inviting?
"I have an idea for an article and I need to work on it while it's still fresh in my mind."
"Not today. I had wanted to walk around and get to know the area."
"Gees woman, make up your mind."
She puts her hands on her hips. "You are getting obsessed again."
"I thought I was your knight in shining armor?"
"That armor has been tarnished lately."
He closes the laptop and turns to face her. "What are you talking about? You said you were proud of me for standing up to my editor Stan. You said I had the honor and was proud that I didn't sell out."
She hates when he uses facts to confuse the argument, "Well… look at you now. You can't get another newspaper job."
"That's because there are no traditional news outlets anymore. Print media is gone."
She paces about, keeping her voice down from the neighbors. She walks inside with the hopes he will follow her. Then she closes the sliding glass door. "Had you bit your tongue to your editor, you might not have lost that one. It paid very well."
He is about to say something, but changes his mind. He lets out a very big sigh. He walks to the medicine cabinet and is frustrated that he cannot find what he is looking for. "Where's the Bromo?"
"Bromo-Seltzer? What… do you live in the dark ages?"
"You know that's the only thing to help my upset stomach."
"Are you getting those again? You hadn't had it in a long time."
He says nothing and just kind of walks over to her like a wounded animal. She hates to see him like this. He had such ambition when he was working and drove forward with reckless abandonment. When he smelled a story, he was like a bloodhound on a trail of a fox. Or whatever bloodhounds do. Now the repeated blows to his ego just makes him weak. He just refuses to continue the fight.
She will fix him breakfast and not bring it up to him… for now.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone