There's a huge cast of characters that revolve around Joe's story, and they'll guide you through tales that run the gamut of human emotion and ethics.
Tragedy and sorrow, as well as triumph and joy are well represented. Grace and elegance, compassion and courtesy are there too. But it's not all flowers and sunshine, there's despair so deep, it's crippling, there is maliciousness, manipulation, unconscionable villainy and horrifying insanity.
I hope readers will find Joe's story enjoyable, and I hope they'll find something else too, that magic does exist. The magic of connecting with our own unknowable souls, and at least for a little while, becoming a pure being of selfless thought and feeling, and that thus transformed, you may visit the realm from whence the magic came, a wondrous realm where we shed our humanity and our spirits are freed, a realm where lives joy, and beauty, and even love. It's a realm that once visited, will always remain a part of you. I hope to see you there.
Runaway Joe is a fun and entertaining tale on the surface, although just like a good play, there is much below the surface for those who care to look. Many issues that confront us as both individuals, and as part of a whole are explored. One can also see how theatre influenced me in the telling of my story. Runaway Joe seeks, just as good theatre does, only to evoke thought, not to orchestrate thought. The following is an excerpt from early in the story.
"Your mother completed me son, let me tell you how. Not
long after our dinner date where I scrapped the Alaska idea,
she asked me if I'd like to go and see the flower gardens at
Balboa Park, there in San Diego."
"Oh Jeez Dad, flowers? This is getting pretty darn mushy!"
Joe interrupted.
"I understand your sentiment son. In fact, I wasn't too
enthused about the idea, I didn't think I'd enjoy an outing of
that nature. But it was your mother asking me to go, so I
figured I would. So we go ahead and go to the park, and as
we're strolling along a path lined both sides with flowers, I
begin to notice how peaceful and content she seems. Which
makes me start to feel rather pleasant too. A little further
along, we meet two little girls holding hands and coming up
the path. As we stepped aside to let them pass, they looked to
your mother with shining eyes and pleasant smiles, she
returning to them a warm and gentle gaze. I was humbled. I
felt as if I had just witnessed innocence and grace meeting
for the first time. All misgivings about the days outing had
by now melted away, as I let your mother lead me down the
flowered path."
"As we walked along your mother would tell me the
names of the flowers she knew, and we occasionally would
stop to study some of them. Then, the path opened to a lawn
on one side. As we moved past the lawn, your mother drew
my attention to an old couple. They were relaxing on a
blanket they had spread out on the grass, sharing a bottle of
wine and a bit of bread. She turned to me, her deep eyes
reflecting her peace and contentment, her gentle smile
emanating tranquility. She reached for me, wrapping her
hand around mine, and the flower lined path became
magical. It's as if we weren't walking, but rather floating
hand in hand through an ethereal fog of color and fragrance."
"I then felt her hand slip from mine and stopped. Your
mother took a few steps to inspect a flower she had never
seen, and didn't know the name of. It was a beautiful flower
of broad purple petals tipped in white with yellow stamens.
She gently cupped the flower in her hand, leaning towards it
slightly to take in its fragrance. And she turned to me,
beckoning with her eyes. She was so beautiful, and I felt as if
I stood there with no barrier, no defenses. That her eyes
could see me for who I was and that my very soul was bared
to her. And now, in her eyes was a sort of knowing, it was if
she knew that I felt open and uncovered before her. Then she
smiled, a smile that reflected her pleasure with all that she
saw. A smile given entirely to me, nothing outside of the
little realm we inhabited owned a part of it. It was all mine.
My chest filled with an airy lightness, my mind with such a
pure and profound joy it threatened to overwhelm me. I
stepped forward to take in the fragrance of the flower she
held, staying a bit overlong, so she wouldn't see that I wept."