The GNARA Girl

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Volume Two. THE GNARA GIRL. San Mateo, Texas. Spring, 2020. A middle-aged couple, a man and a woman wearing dark glasses, wait in her Mercedes in the moms-to-be ONLY reserved front row section of a hospital parking lot. Meanwhile, Preston Gerardi, Lynsey's 69-year-old never-married son tests wits with a blonde reporterette, probably a blogger. At home, the county she revisits events from Viet Nam in the 1970s, when he was just 19 years old, while his wife who has been self-quarantining because of fragile health, whispers, "Look at me, really look at me. I have lost thirty pounds, just since Christmas, in three months." She does not say, "Can you help me?" After daylight the next morning, carpenters, painters, a locksmith and a team of cleaning ladies prepare to x and repair Lynsey's broken and damaged house-when music breaks out. Across town two grief-stricken families plan COVID funerals for their sons. Weeks later, no more than ten or eleven people gather on a Saturday afternoon for an outdoor party. The celebrants are wearing masks, keeping their distance, not hugging, yet they stay connected, each holding one end of a bright ribbon, the other end leading to the st of the honoree, some even dare to try a few two-step dance moves to the sounds of an old-time Cajun tune. And then it is the golden hour, the blue hour, it is that lamplight time when sin dies and goodwill and proper intent often seem to thrive. Betty Pack, author of THE GNARA GIRL, lives with her family in San Antonio. -The GNARA Girl BETTY PACK