Unfinished Business - Our stories

Unfinished business 4  by S.M.
(13.07.2019)

He burst rather hurriedly into headquarters main office.  “Whoa there:” said Philips.  “Did you come to help?  That’s good.”
“Well, yes and no.  There’s an urgent problem we have to deal with.  I’ve just read an article—”
“Well, I hope it has to do with the elections.  That’s all we got time for now.”
“No, it’s much more important than the elections.”
“Can’t be!” said Philips as he tossed a wrapped pack of flyers into a case.  “Gotta get these out.”
“This is more urgent!”
“It’ll have to wait.  What is it anyway?”
“We have to get this area ready for the Big One.”
“Oh, that!  Come off it and help me with these.”
“No, really.  I’ve just found out that we’re not prepared at all.”
“And so what?  That’s their worry down in California.  And you’ve been seeing too many films.”
“I’m not talking about the San Andreas.”
“Then what the heck are you talking about?”
“Cascadia.  The subduction zone.”
“The what?  Never heard of it.”
“That’s the trouble.  Nobody pays any attention to that.  But it’s much more dangerous than the San Andreas fault.”
“Oh yeah?  Where is it?”
“Out a couple of hundred miles, in the Pacific?”  He ended on a rising tone, hoping perhaps that this might ring a bell.  But Philips went on wrapping packs of flyers and motioned with his free hand for him to join in.  “Where the North American tectonic base meets Juan de Fuca.”
“Meets what the fuck?”
“No joke.  Juan de Fuca is trying to slide under us and when it does—“
“It’s gonna cause another California earthquake.”
“It’s not just California.  It’s mostly us in fact.”
“Us?!  When did you ever hear of an earthquake in this region?  My great-grandfather was born here.  And he never felt a thing—if he had my great-grandma woulda moved back east.”
“There have been.  There was a big one in 1700.”
“Who told you that?  And how could they know?  There was nobody here then.”
“Some natives knew it.  They had a tradition that one of their tribes, living on an island, all died at once when their island sank into the ocean.”
“Indian stories!  And you believe that?”
“It’s been proven, by a Japanese!”
“OK, OK, so there was one once, maybe.  But that was over three hundred years ago.”
“That’s just it.  The next one could be any time now.”
“The next one?  What the heck are you talking about?  Hurry up, I want to get these done before the committee comes in for the meeting.”
“There have been over forty earthquakes here in the past ten thousand years.”
“Ten thousand.  Oh, OK, you reassure me.”
“Not at all!  If you calculate it that means around two hundred and fifty years between quakes.”
“Aha! So you see, we missed it!  It ain’t gonna happen, man.  Don’t get everybody riled up about these stories from the past.”
“The tsunami in Tohoku—“
“In where?”
“In Japan.  You know, Fukushima and all.”
“Oh, that.  But Japan’s always having earthquakes.”
“That’s just it.  They were prepared.  And yet 18 000 people died!”
“That can’t happen in the US.”
“You think so?  Two thousand people died in New Orleans because they weren’t ready for Katrina.”
“Sure, they should have been.  Hurricanes are current down there.”
“But I’m telling you that here we’re on the brink of a huge quake and a tsunami too—they say 13 000 will die!”
“You’re just quaking in your shoes, fear, that’s your trouble.  I don’t feel a thing.  See?”  Philips stood there, grinning, his arms stretched out, steady as a rock.
“No, seriously, Philips.  We’ve got to put this on the platform.”
“And scare everybody?  No way.  We are not the prophets of doom.  Oh, here they come.”  He looked at his watch.  “And none too soon.  It’s almost ten.”
The committee members started filing in and sat down one by one.  “Now,” said Philips, taking out the sheet he had prepared, “we’ve got some unfinished business here ...”
Out of doors, the dogs began to bark.
 




Jackie:   Unfinished Business


Girl raised her hand.     “I’ve finished my homework”

Teacher:    "Good girl, now put it on the pile with the others I shall correct them tomorrow."

…….               Teacher:   "Everybody has done wonderfully well on this subject but there is one person in this class who has not completed their paper."   Teacher stared at Girl.

Girl:    Girl looked up;   "but I did finish it Miss, my homework is finished";

Teacher : "No it’s not,  look this paragraph has not been completed and some of your words are left hanging like a piece of string in the wind ….."

Girl:    "Hanging like string " ?  … "excuse me Miss but I am using my imagination not the textbook.

In this school we teach you to do your lessons correctly, we assume our students will follow the rules and write what is expected of them."

The teacher beamed at the 23 students in her English class.     But a frown crossed her brow at the girl sitting in the front row.

Teacher:   "Look at your classmates girl, they have all followed the protocol,  the lines are perfectly drawn, each A impeccably formed and those L’s – well, a better drawn loop would be hard to find.    There are no unfinished sentences, a complete sentence has at least a subject, and a main verb to declare a complete thought and an ending.      Adjectives, verbs and nouns are all in their place and all the words are correctly spelt"

Girl:   "Excuse me teacher."  

Teacher:   "Yes, Girl what is it."

Girl:   "In my small undeveloped student brain with  an apparently slow mental capacity I have successfully completed what you gave us to do.       Learning  to my mind is expressing oneself and finished or unfinished doesn’t come into it.   My text was perfectly flawless and using my little tiny intelligence  I finished it to the best of my ability using my resourcefulness .    The sentence that is supposed to be hanging in the air just because you think it is unfinished doesn’t mean that it is is not .   My particular text is meant to be incomplete.  "

Teacher:   “Ah , so you admit”

Girl:   "This is a new way of expression, modern, in vogue, stylized, we are in the 21^st Century.     Unfinished means finished.  Complete, ended, closed, and finalized."

   Girl:   " If finished to me is unfinished to you then I cannot finish this class and will be sorry to say that my education will finish here if  I cannot find a more appreciative teacher who values my unfinished finishes.

Teacher:    "Finish your sentence girl and lets  rid of this unfinished business

___________________________________________________
Annemarie:

Unfinished Business

When I go away on holiday, often with a couple of friends in a gite, the last thing I actually want to do is shop and cook. Of course there are always local delicacies but as long as they are ready to eat that’s fine by me, especially as my other half can”t/won”t cook but is quite capable of putting delicious bought stuff on a plate.  John had arranged a week away in a gite in the South of France;  a golfing holiday with his friends;  but I knew none of them and was very apprehensive, especially as the other seven had been holidaying together for four years. I could see days of food preparation and shopping by the women and worse still, I would probably have to take charge of  organising/cooking at least two of them.

We arrived late afternoon at the gite, which lay basking in evening  sunshine, a river gurgling alongside and  two enamoured geese patrolling their  stretch nearby.  Under the dappled light of trees and climbing roses a table was laid and aperitifs were ready;  a delicious meal to which each of us had contributed and all in all a wonderful start to the holiday.

The next  morning we came scrubbed and clean, dressed ready for the day to find the French contingent in nightwear laying out big bowls of coffee, tea and in one case a ghastly concoction of chicory and dried milk. But where were the  golden, crispy, buttery croissants, the almond-filled pastries ? No, just hard dried bread from last night's meal and homemade jam.  Well, perhaps that was just the first morning – I had the rest of the week to look forward to   As I had only recently had  two teeth broken on French bread which had been enhanced with bits of grit, replaced  two expensive crown,  I passed on the dry crusts!  Then there was a cry from Sylvain  - ooh! I thought, he has the same problem,  but n,  he had spread his piece of bread with the deliciously sounding 'chilli jam', (one of my culinary contributions!) And no, we didn't know why the English called it jam. Sometimes we call jam cheese as in damson or lemon cheese. Bewildered French faces round the table.

After breakfast the French, performed their ablutions and arrived clean and chic and armed with paper and pencil at the table again, just as I was settling down to my holiday book. Apparently it was time to discuss today's menu, everyone contributing suggestions, each suggestion given due consideration as only the French can.  Lunch and dinner menus, all four courses, sorted, it was time to write lists, lists of  who would buy what where. So different from the quick all-in-one pot meals we had when holidaying with English friends.  And the shopping was  just for today! This  one-hour post-prandial meeting occurred every morning of the holiday, with great enthusiasm  and dedication from all participants (we two Brits keeping  a closed mouth and an open mind.)
We all nine of us descended on the local supermarket, fingering and testing, tweaking stems of melons (if they detach readily when they are ready). Then it was off to the bustling street market. This was more like it I thought, a bit of holiday shopping. In two groups we targeted local  produce with the same determination and dedication applied to menu selection. With barely a glance, we were whizzed  past the artisan jewellery stall laden with beckoning bangles and bracelets;  after all, we had tomatoes, aubergine and courgettes to examine, cheese and charcuterie to choose, no time to linger over linen dresses swaying in the mistral or inhale the scents of lavender, lemon verbena and jasmine soaps whispering their way to our olfactory senses.

No, no time for lingering, all those pates and saucisson had to be in the cool , so off we were whisked back to the gite – just in time to prepare lunch. Contrary to my worst expectations everyone, all the men helped, each having such confidence in their own prowess in the kitchen. We did as we were told- me, preparing salad , John relegated to table-laying and drink-pouring.  I soon discovered there were expert ways for tomatoes to be cut for salad although there was not always agreement. « Very finely sliced «,  said Jacques, « to  better absorb the dressing. »  « Non, the little ones should be cut in quarters and don't cut the lettuce, Annemarie; leave the leaves large and we fold them. »  Saucisson had to be cut to a particular, exacting size, the mayonnaise made with just the right amount of oil, the correct whisking - who makes mayonnaise from scratch on holiday?!
BUT the meals, and above all the mealtimes,  were delicious; each course, each item minutely dissected and discussed, each conversation easily digressing into descriptions of succulent food, anecdotes concerning the local butcher  or farmer. Afternoons  were food and food-talk free (we went sightseeing swimming – proper holiday stuff!)  until  dinner preparations and apéritifs.

 Well, what can I say about a nation which prides itself on its wine and gastronomy  and then drinks a mélange of   Pastis and a livid  green mint syrup, such as might be seen in a Jekyell and Hyde film,. What will I remember from this very French sojourn?  The fun and laughter, their inclusiveness, how to choose a melon and slice tomatoes and of course terrible, terrible brittle bread breakfasts. All too soon we were on our way home, hoping to be invited again next year.  But first we had to stop at the market - the little necklace made from delicate loops of blue pottery which I had spotted out of the corner of my eye that first morning, might just still be there. Oh, and the linen dress...and some scented soaps . ..

We arrived home very late and very tired, fed the cats, watered some gasping plants, then collapsed into bed - until I remembered something.

« What's wrong », said John.
« Unfinished business, » I said as I went downstairs to the freezer and dug out our last packet of English smoked bacon and a couple of sausages plus eggs and tomatoes for the morrow's proper breakfast

Eve/ Unfinished Business

So this is it, Eric thought.   Divorce at last and I can start on my new life.  Alone for now, it is a funny feeling to be in the apartment by myself but something was nagging at himself. It was something he couldn't put his finger on, something unfinished, was it at work? did he forget to do paperwork, call a client?  He would never do that being a very serious businessman.   

She had a good lawyer, he kept the apartment since she left for the new man in her life, that skeezeball, a good friend of his (ex) He thought that all as well in their life , even though Jill acted coldish sometimes, had a lot of meetings out of town and sometimes that his wife, all of a sudden was spending money on clothes, spas, trying to look younger and desirable. 

 Not for him, he found out when Jill told him she wanted a divorce.  Just like that out of the blue - Now, thinking about it, he realised they had made a fool out of him, it wasn't a pleasant feeling and he should do something about it, have another talk with Jill, another talk but now they were divorced so it would be different - he would meet her in a charming auberge out of town , maybe he would hear about her romance with Steve.      
They met, she told him about her loneliness married to him, boring life, no compliments, sex was a bore too.  He couldn't believe his ears and was getting very angry, very very angry.   They decided to leave and the weather being lovely walked around the property and as he was charming, she relaxed a bit.   Eric asked Jill to come over to his car, he had something she had to see concerning her, it was about, some business they were partners in and they must talk about the papers that were in his car.   She agreed, asked what buiness it was, all he said that it's unfinished business but it will be done tonight, at last.