No Band-Aid Solution
Photo Credit: Barbara Burgess
“I weep for the liberty of my country when I see at this early day of its successful experiment that corruption has been imputed to many members of the House of Representatives, and the rights of the people have been bartered for promises of office.” ~ Andrew Jackson
When I read my friend Amanda’s blog about her fictional characters, Hope and Joy, I thought of the fiction piece I wrote at the end of last year and knew I wanted to write about those characters. This week’s blog finds the book enthusiasts meeting up for happy hour mid-August, on an impulse initiated by Priscilla, to discuss the current state of the world. I hope, dear reader, that you enjoy it and look forward to hearing your thoughts. Are you as fond of these characters as I? Would you like to read more about them? Please drop me a note and let me know your opinion.
It’s a Tuesday morning, mid-August, and the long, hot days of summer have made space for the book club enthusiasts to let go some of their routines and embrace spontaneity. Since many of the twelve members literally disappear to their cottages during summer, book club meetings are on hold until September. But today Priscilla is feeling restless. She’s been working as hard as ever, if not more, having had to juggle regular care-home visits with her mother since May, inside an already overly-crammed schedule at work, along with her regular strict workout and beauty routine. No cabin to retreat to, even if there was an opportunity.
On an impulse, Priscilla picks up her phone. She scrolls through her contacts until her eye lands on Eileen Carlson. She clicks on the send message option and types quickly, both thumbs in rapid synchronicity. “Fancy meeting me at Cargo Bar for happy hour?”
She stares at her screen for a few moments, watching for the three dots dancing out a reply, but there is nothing, and Priscilla reminds herself that Eileen has two young children, off school for the summer, and clicks on the contacts icon again. Raheem’s name seems to jump off the screen, and while she can’t imagine what the two of them might have in common besides their love of books, she decides on an impulse to reach out.
“Interested in some lively happy hour conversation at Cargo Bar?” Priscilla types.
“Love that place,” Raheem’s answer comes back immediately. “Just name a day and time and I’ll be there.”
Priscilla’s curiosity is piqued. How is it that Raheem, a young man with two jobs, can be available at a moment’s notice?
“Thursday at 3?” She types back.
“Done.”
Priscilla laughs to herself, suddenly feeling lighter. She sets her phone back on her desk face down and opens the lid to her laptop. The separation agreement she’d been working on suddenly seems doable and her mind shifts easily into lawyer mode.
On Wednesday Priscilla wakes up to find an affirmative reply from Eileen.
“Great!” Priscilla texts back. “Raheem will be joining us. Thursday, 3 pm at Cargo Bar. Looking forward to catching up.”
“Oh. I’ll have to get a sitter. Will get back to you asap,” Eileen writes back.
Eileen reaches out to Keith to see if he’d like to come, and if his daughter, Joanna, might be able to watch her kids. Keith is keen to join in. He’s been working from home since Covid, so he has flexible hours, and of course Joanna is off school for the summer and only too happy to earn some spending money.
On Thursday, Priscilla tidies up her desk early and leaves the office by 2:15. She likes to be the first person to arrive at these things, to secure the right table; a spot with her back to the outside.
Cargo Bar is in the heart of Assiniboine park, encircled by a variety of trees, all in their full-on summer green glory. It is quaint and unassuming, like most venues in Winnipeg. It’s 2:40 when Priscilla parks her car. On the walk over, she has to tread carefully on sleek designer heels to avoid all the goose poop that has accumulated on the paved pathway. There is a large sign at the entrance: Daily Special: margaritas, followed by On tap: Good Neighbour pale ale.
The restaurant is already more than half full, but when she asks the laidback server (who has made her wait a good two minutes before coming over) if the table in the far southwest corner of the patio is available, he replies with, “no problem, follow me.”
“Will anyone be joining you?” the server asks as he saunters ahead, his long hair tied back in a neon-pink elastic, his wrinkled shirt half-tucked into his low-slung khaki shorts.
“Yes, there will be four of us,” Priscilla replies. She scans the small wooden rectangular table for crumbs and glass rings, and finding neither, seats herself in the chair at the back nestled close to an elm tree with a view of the entrance.
Keith and Eileen arrive together. Priscilla waves behind dark Coach sunglasses, the glass of prosecco in front of her already half empty.
“This was such a great idea,” Eileen beams as she slides into her chair, her dimples popping. “I’ve been losing my grip on reality for at least a week, the kids past ready to go back to school, bored out of their minds since the end of summer camp. I really wish our school system would get on board with year-round schooling. It’s been proven more effective in all the advanced countries, like Sweden.”
“I have to agree with you on that one,” Keith says, taking the chair directly across from Eileen. He struggles to tuck his long legs under the table and has to push his chair back further. “But it will be September before you know it.”
“Did you hear the latest in the looming US midterm elections drama?” Priscilla pipes in, wanting to change the subject. “Apparently there’s a huge rift in the Democratic Party. Centrists are touting moderation while progressives are pushing dramatic changes they think will attract more young working-class voters.”
“I know, right?” Eileen sighs. She pulls at her over-size cotton t-shirt, where it’s caught in one of the folds of her tummy, never having lost the weight she gained in pregnancy. “It’s so concerning. If the Democrats can’t get it together we’ll be in for another Republican government and look where that’s got us.”
“Well you both know I’m conversative, all the way,” Keith intervenes. “But to be honest, I have to agree that the current president is really botching up the friendly and lucrative economic relationship our countries have relied upon for years with all these crazy tariffs.”
“Hey look, Raheem’s here!” Eileen exclaims. She waves and smiles in his direction.
“Looks like the three of you are already into another meaty conversation,” Raheem says. He sits down and takes off his ball cap and hangs it from the back of his chair. He runs his hands through his thick, wavy hair a few times and stretches. “Have you solved any world problems yet?”
“We were talking about the state of affairs with our neighbour to the south, and how difficult it is to achieve any real change,” Priscilla resumes, having taken Raheem’s comment to heart. “Sometimes I wonder how the world got into such a big mess. It’s chaos, but most people seem too zombified to even realize how dire things are.”
“I know, right?” Eileen nods. “It’s human psychology. We’re wired to obey authority, for survival, back when authority could be trusted. You need to be awake in these times, for sure.”
“So true,” Keith agrees, surprising everybody, including himself. “Without out a wise, benevolent king as our shepherd, we’re just lost sheep, vulnerable to every danger.”
“Sounds like a biblical reference,” Raheem says. “In Hindu philosophy it is the responsibility of all leaders to act with dharma, or righteous duty as you might describe it. Leaders are called to exercise nishkam karma, which is selfless action without attachment to results.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not going to find any government candidates, Hindu or otherwise, with those kind of qualities,” Priscilla says. “Even the ones who start out with good intentions seem to become corrupted eventually.”
“If you ask me, we need to take a flame thrower to the whole system, not just here in Canada, but most of the world,” Keith says. “We need a total reset.”
“Sounds apocalyptic,” Raheem says.
“Yeah, maybe a flood, like Noah’s ark,” Eileen laughs.
“Well, however it happens, I have to agree, there’s no Band-Aid solution to the level of reform that is necessary,” Priscilla says.
“Whatever happened to light happy-hour discussion?” Raheem says. “I vote to let go all this heaviness. Anyone read any good books this summer?”
“Ooh, I have,” Eileen grins. “But let’s order another round before I tell you the title and my review. I think it will knock your socks right off.”
“Very intriguing, and I’m in on both counts,” Keith says. He waves to catch their server’s attention. “This one’s on me.”
COMING UP…
Books & Projects:
· In December 2025 I signed a contract with Austin Macauley Publishers for my manuscript, The Trials of Alex Anderson, a character-driven novel that explores the relationship between mental illness and trauma. I am now on the road to publication, with an expected release date near the end of 2026. In February I worked with designers on the cover and its near completion. Last week I received the proofread manuscript for my review. Things are happening! I’ll be posting regular updates here on my blog and on social media, so stay tuned for exciting new developments.
· The Rogue Scorpion is available online at Amazon, Chapters-Indigo, and Barnes & Noble. You can also find it at select Chapters-Indigo and El Hombre de la Mancha bookstores.
Reviews & Interviews:
· You can read, listen, or watch a large selection of reviews and interviews on my website.
Events:
· There are no events currently scheduled in my calendar.
YouTube Channel:
· Watch The Rogue Scorpion trailer.