Free Excerpt From "Treading Water"

In addition to the excerpt printed at the What's Your Mom Story blog, I am also printing another mother-related excerpt here. To order "Treading Water" see my webpage at www.noreensdigitaldreams.com

I’ve Got You Under My Skin, Kid

by Noreen Braman

Medical science recently discovered that women who have been pregnant might carry cells from the child in their body for decades after the birth. And those same children show evidence of having cells from their mother in their bodies for a lifetime. Finally, a scientific explanation for some of the dynamics of family life.

Mothers invariably have a certain radar for when “things aren’t right.” The kids are too quiet or they’ve been out too long or there is just a nagging feeling inside that for the most part, fathers are clueless about. How many times do we read a story about a child’s rare illness, diagnosed only when doctor after doctor found nothing, and mom insisted on one more test. Sure, we all acknowledge this is a mother’s instinct, but now, we finally have scientific proof of how it might work.

I am probably carrying around with me, some cells from all three of my children. Cells that swim around in the bloodstream, basically doing nothing until they are awakened by messages from the cells in my child’s body. I don’t know how this would work exactly, but perhaps there is some kind of wireless, cellular Internet – or maybe they use cell phones. The result is, the child cells in my body start swimming as fast as they can up to my brain where they pull the emergency cord and my train of thought screeches to a halt. I am immediately consumed with concern for the involved child and must track him or her down right away. “How did my mom know!” is often the surprised reaction. Especially when a truant child bounces into the house after a day spent avoiding school, only to find Mom standing there, home from work a full three hours early.

Now that we know that mothers and children are forever connected by these interloper cells, perhaps they can be used to our advantage. Mom’s cells in the child’s body can be trained to monitor a teenager’s driving, automatically imposing a 40 mph speed limit. Grass could be cut and garbage taken out without nagging – and that wild boyfriend with the nose ring – he could be history.

Of course, eventually, the children will find out how to activate their own cells in mom’s body. Phone calls will no longer begin with “so you haven’t called in three weeks, good thing I’m not dead …” Twins and close siblings will no longer be outfitted in matching clothes and paraded around the neighborhood. Becoming a lawyer or a doctor will be something pursued because of interest, not just because Mom wants one in the family!

Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all.

(c)2011 Noreen Braman an excerpt from "Treading Water."

Humor Writer Releases Book In Time for National Lifewriting Month | PRLog

Humor Writer Releases Book In Time for National Lifewriting Month | PRLog

Veteran's Day 11-11-11

To honor all our military veterans,  a poem from WWI, that Linus recites in the video "What Have We Learned, Charlie Brown?"

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae   

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Halloween Story

For those who didn't see it in my newsletter, here is an old favorite Halloween story of mine. Happy Halloween!

Pull Cord for Nurse

(c) Noreen Braman

Emily hated working late. The turn-of-the-century hospital building that now housed her office was creepy enough during the day. After dark, building would creak and moan, making it easy to believe the stories about the former hospital - tales of experiments and mysterious deaths. The hospital staff had been absolutely fascinated with electric devices, haphazardly running wires to power all sorts of gadgets, including hundreds of little boxes with strings hanging from them, each one labeled "pull cord for nurse."

No one had bothered removing these boxes when the building was converted to offices. Every so often, a persistent ringing or buzzing coming from some distant room would require hours of work by the electrician to find the source and shut it down; blown fuses were common. Out of desperation, the office staff had become quite adept at pulling wires and changing the old glass fuses.

Tonight, Emily hoped she wouldn't have any electrical problems, she didn't feel like stumbling around in the dark utility closet to change a fuse. But around 9 PM, with only a little flicker as a warning, the lights went out. Emily sighed and reached into her desk drawer for the flashlight. Then, she headed down the hall toward the utility room, her footsteps echoing eerily in the empty building. Swinging the flashlight around, she searched the floor for the piece of wood they used to prop open the heavy metal door, then turned to open the fuse box. Suddenly, the door crashed shut behind her. She jumped and dropped the flashlight, which immediately went out. Frantically, she dropped to her hands and knees, feeling along the floor for the light, but she couldn't find it. Although she knew she had been alone in the building, she pounded on the door, screaming for someone to come open it. Terrified at the thought of being stuck in the utility closet all night, she ran her hands along the walls for anything that might help her get out. Behind some pipes, she felt the shape of a box with a string hanging from it. In desperation, she pulled the cord, and to her great surprise, there came the sound of a bell ringing somewhere deep in the recesses of the building. Emily yanked on the cord incessantly, hoping that someone would hear her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Emily heard footsteps in the hall, slow, shuffling steps that were coming closer. "I'm in here!" she shouted. "Come open the door!" She pounded on the utility room door as the slow footsteps became louder and louder. "Hurry!" she yelled, but the footsteps continued at their slow, shuffling pace.

Finally, they stopped, right outside the door. The old doorknob turned back and forth. Emily pushed on the door. It flew open and Emily fell headfirst out into the hallway. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, and tried to see in the darkness who had rescued her.

"Thank you," she began, then gasped. Standing above her, glowing dimly in the dark, was someone half -human, half corpse, wearing the tattered remnants of a uniform and nurse's cap.

A skeletal hand reached toward Emily and a low raspy voice said "It's time for your medicine."

In the creature's other rotten hand was a hypodermic needle, filled with a glowing blue liquid. Emily screamed and tried to crawl away. A rancid hand fastened on her leg with a surprisingly strong grip. With her free leg she kicked at the glowing needle, knocking it from the nurse's hand. The nurse hissed furiously, and let go of Emily.

Emily scrambled to her feet and stumbled down the dark hall. Behind her, the nurse had picked up the needle and was shuffling toward her. "It's time for your medicine!" she wailed.

The old hospital building seemed to creak and groan in response. As Emily raced down the hallway, the doorknobs of each room she passed shook violently, and there was pounding on the doors as if someone was trying to get out. She looked behind her to see the nurse coming closer and closer, needle raised above her glowing skull. "It's time for your medicine!" she shrieked.

Emily careened down the hall, until she finally saw the outline of the front door. Outside, the lights of the parking lot glowed brightly. Emily swung open the door and ran out into the night.

Inside the hospital, the nurse watched Emily run away. Silence descended on the building as she shuffled back down the winding halls of the building. Slowly, she lowered her decaying body into the rusted chair at the forgotten nurse's station. She put the glowing needle back on the desk with the others, and folded her bony fingers in front of her on the desk. There would be other patients who needed her, and she would wait there as she was trained to do. Forever.

Self-Publishing: The Debate is Over

Self-Publishing: The Debate is Over

Treading Water Hits the Kindle Store

For those of you who have followed my blogs, my stint as LOL Editor and EWG Presents, my various published pieces scattered among magazines and anthologies - here is news for you! Now you can get all your favorite pieces together in one place in my new Kindle format book, Treading Water. If you are a new reader, Treading Water is a damp collection of essays and columns  from the Evil Pants series to The House orf Rhyming Pests and other tales of watery adventures, misbehaving dogs, careful plans gone awry and varmints of all kinds that don't give up!

use this link to order:

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