AuthorsDen.com  Join | Login 

 
Where Authors and Readers come together!

Authors | Books | Audiobooks | eBooks | Signed Bookstore | Stories | Articles | Poetry | Blogs | News | Events | Reviews | Videos | Success | Gold Members | Testimonials

Featured Authors:  R.E.E.S Blogs Linda Smith, Publisher, iShirley Francis-Salley, i Armand, iRobert Wood, iMiller Caldwell, iLaura Cavanaugh, iOdin odin@aflx.com, iLloydene Hill, iMr. Ed, iDr. Patrick ODougherty, i

  Home > Biography > Stories
Popular: Books, Stories, Articles, Poetry      Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z     

Richard Lloyd Cederberg

 Follow Me  

· 337 titles
· 2,854 Reviews
· Share with Friends!
· Save to My Library
·
Member Since: May, 2006

   Sitemap
   Contact Author
   Read Reviews



Books
· A NEW RACE OF HuMANS

· Between the Cracks

· A Monumental Journey - first edition cover

· Beyond Understanding

· The Underground River

· In Search of the First Tribe

· A Monumental Journey - 3rd Edition


Short Stories
· Rejected (a curse or a blessing)

· The Visions of Saoirse Gilbride....

· An Irresistible Transformation...

· Surfing on Silent Skies...

· Doorway...

· The Strange Case of Kicky Cano...

· A Matter of Perspective 2...

· A Surprising Discovery....

· Old Friendships (not forgotten)

· A Matter of Perspective...


Articles
· Thanks Giving...

· Kennedy and Lincoln...

· The Art of Poetic Prose...

· What Makes a Poet Authentic...

· Paul Harvey’s ‘If I Were The Devil’ transcript- 1965

· Direct Characterization

· Aphorisms (a collection)

· Hey Cortana...(2019)

· Origin, or Destiny?

· Stream of Consciousness


Poetry
· When the Heart is Flawed...

· Catching Happiness...

· The Fragments of Hatred...

· 'Malama Ka Aina'...

· On Open Wings...

· Generations....

· Dewdrops....

· A Gradual Decline…

· Like Wildflowers and Weeds…

· In Nature’s Design…

         More poetry...

Richard Lloyd Cederberg, click here to update your web pages on AuthorsDen.

Books by
Richard Lloyd Cederberg











See all Books
by Richard Lloyd Cederberg


10 North Waverly Place...
By Richard Lloyd Cederberg
Last edited: Monday, December 27, 2021
This short story is rated "PG13" by the Author.
       
Recent stories by Richard Lloyd Cederberg
· Rejected (a curse or a blessing)
· Old Friendships (not forgotten)
· Therapy Session...
· The Visions of Saoirse Gilbride....
· It All Began ....
· Instead Of...
           >> View all 37
PORTRAYAL 9. A cherished memory.
.
.
There were two things I was skilled at in my preteens, playing the trumpet and swimming. Dad had moved us to Mount Prospect Illinois for his work, and as it turned out, there was an Olympic sized pool right across the street. Given the convenience of this, and having my best interest always in hand, Mom decided to enroll me in swimming lessons five days a week. I was so down with that. I loved being in the water regularly, and because of my ability to learn, I ended up qualifying as the youngest lifeguard in the history of the pool. There was a lotta hoopla about that, but it ended up going nowhere. According to the law, I was too young to actually sit in the tower and work as a guard. Mom was so proud of me, but she never argued with the owners. She agreed with their decision. I didn’t. But what could I do. Feeling undaunted, there was no way I was going to let this discourage me, so I continued swimming as much as I could. Mom had no problem with that. In fact, she even encouraged it.
.
One morning, while I was resting in chest high water after swimming laps, a girl in a yellow swimsuit shouted “hello” and waved. At first I thought she was waving at someone else. She wasn’t. I was the one. After waving back, I remember her toothy smile bursting over me like sunlight, and then she dove in and swam over. Well, when she stood up next to me dripping water, all I could do was stare. She was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. Hopelessly, my mind began whirring. What did she see in a nerd like me? Without a smidge of shyness, she opened up and began talking. At one point she invited me over to dinner, told me where she lived with her parents, (just two blocks away) and told me the address. To this day I’ve never forgotten it. She told me her age too and asked mine. I recall her heartfelt laugh. It didn’t make any difference at all to her that I was 5 years younger. She had seen something in me that she liked, and we bonded.
.
From that day forward, we met regularly at the pool. When we weren’t swimming, we goofed off in the huge park adjacent Lions Park Elementary. There were days we played catch, days we just talked on the swings, and on special occasions we unsheathed our swords and fought dragons and monsters. We both knew that these were mostly the kinds of things that boys did with boys, not girls, but neither of us cared one whit. We were best friends on a mission, and nothing was ever going to dampen our imaginations. About two years later, Dad packed us up and moved to San Diego. Dee and I lost touch after that. To this day (on occasion) I still pine for that incredibly special friendship, and all those months when our irrepressible imaginations took us to places I’ve never been able to find again.
.
Not that it makes
much difference now,
how circumstance played
into all we’d ever dreamed, and
how our young imaginations stole
the moments so deftly,
and how daydreaming offered
something further along in time
that deepened those
parts of us
so inclined to neatness
.
Willing, without
questioning, to journey with her
beyond inhibition, and to tread lightly
upon the vulnerability of open-heartedness,
we ventured together, young and wide-eyed,
searching out new aspects, and escapades,
and imaginary places we’d never been
.
With no apprehension,
I stretched wide my arms
to all the cool things Dee shared,
shunning my fears and trepidations
to allow the essence of her happiness
to flow onto a blank parchment of
(what I didn’t know then were)
future stories and poems,
like this one…
.
And oh how we dreamed,
her and I, shunning the older
kids’ doolally, (pugnacious hellraisers
making trouble just for the fun of it)
that wasn’t us,
we sought another way,
where our innocent fancies
opened up new panoramas, and
portals to those places meant
only for the two who knew
.
It’s amazing,
how the most replete
memories of you remain
to this very day,
(your lovely smile and laughter,
your carefree spirit and kindness)
and only in silent contemplations do
I recall the bravery and willingness that
we adopted in our short friendship, a pure
kind of character that will always remain
unsurpassed in my heart…
.
richard lloyd cederberg
10/2021
.
THE PORTRAYAL SERIES: Poetiprose insights concerning old friends and family. This series will also address certain of the actors, artists, musicians, and writers I worked with in college, or professionally, in my twenty’s - forty’s, all of which were influential (in one way or another) in shaping the man I am today.

       

Web Site: Between the Cracks - A Monumental Journey Series
Want to review or comment on this short story?


Need a FREE Reader Membership?

Reviewed on November 8, 2021
Some friends would come into our lives and place a lasting impression in our hearts; others may just come and stay for a while. The lesson we learn from each friend is priceless.

Sandie

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on November 8, 2021
Yes, a great story of how circumstance, like swimming, with a pool so convenient, can lead to an odd but wonderful friendship. Unfortunately, like so many, changed when families move and children have to leave good friends behind.

I have to think that it might have grown into much more. My cousin married women five years older than him, twice.

I passed my swimming test when I was seven, got my swimming and lifesaving merit badges in scouts, but didn't learn how to really swim until I was in college in swimming class. Helped me a lot when my hands and arms got paralyzed. My partner, and 55, decided to learn how to swim at her gym. By watching YouTube videos, she is doing quite nicely, but prevented by the pandemic. This morning, she announced that she is going to go swimming again on Sundays, the only day she has time to put in an hour for laps.

Ron

Reviewed by John Herlihy
Reviewed on November 8, 2021
Great story, full of youthful nostalgia. I loved every word.