• Keith A. Kenel is an aging cyclist, amateur actor, failing triathlete, prolific poet, terrible singer and ponderer of ideas large and small.

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Tag Archives: Thomas

Bryan and Brian: Final of 39

25 Tuesday Feb 2020

Posted by keithakenel in Fiction

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Augusta Maine, Brian Gunnarson, Bryan Brown, Elizabeth Gunnarson, Enrique, Jordan, Joseph Gunnarson, Mary Brown, Mr. Velveteen, Phoenix Arizona, Playa Los Muertos, Puerto Vallarta, Reykjavik Ice Land, Thomas, Wellington New Zealand, Zach Brown

THIRTY-NINE
The Gunnarsons, the Browns and the four young men from New York threw on shirts and flip-flops and headed up Pilitas in search of a Tapas bar. The ten crowded together beneath two umbrellas at two tables on an outdoor brick patio where Zach paid for a pitcher of Sangria, another of cerveza and a single Jarritos mandarin soda with two cups for the Bryans to split, all of which Enrique ordered in perfect Spanish.

“So let me get this straight,” Thomas said, distributing the first pitcher of beer into five mugs, “You two are cousins?” he asked Mary, “not twins?”

“Correct,” Mary replied handing each child a small glass of soda and nodding. “Our mothers are identical twins but we just look amazingly alike.”

Beth said, “What do you say, boys?”

“Thank you!” Both Brians declared as they returned to playing together with Mr. Velveteen.

“And you both have sons that you named Bryan? What’s up with that?!” Jordan interjected, placing one mug of beer in front of himself and passing another to Dennis.

“Yes, well sad story,” Mary said  with a triple nod. “We had an uncle who served in Vietnam. Went MIA in 1968. Pretty sure he died as a POW but no official word. Uncle Brian was idolized by both our moms and we independently chose to name our sons after him. Beth went with the traditional spelling but I changed the ‘i’ to a ‘y.’ Seemed like tempting fate to use the same spelling, plus this way both Bryan and Mary are spelled with a y which I thought was a nice touch.”

“It is a nice touch,” Beth said, nodding and poring sangria into four glasses, “and, in more ridiculous coincidental behavior, I thought the same thing when I named Brian Brian with an ‘i’ like Elizabeth.”

“Ha!” Mary barked. “I never think of you as an Elizabeth. You’re always Beth to me!”

“That makes sense. I always went by Beth when we were little, it’s only been since I started college that I stopped insisting people call me Beth. Joseph uses both, don’t you sweetie?”

“Ya. Just as I now go by Joe or Joseph. Before you Americanized me it was always Joseph.”

“But you got pregnant and had your sons at the same time?” Dennis asked with a feigned shudder. “That’s… creepy!”

“A little, but not so very,” Mary said. “I know of lots of siblings whose children are born right around the same time. Don’t you have cousins near your age?”

“Near!” Jordan agreed, elongating the word, “Not exactly my age. Weird.”

“It is  weird,” Zach said with a nod, raising his hand at the passing server and circling his finger over the pitchers, “but I think it is much weirder that we wound up at the same hotel at the same time!”

“¿Más lanzadores?” she asked, causing Zach to turn his head toward Enrique.

“Si,” Enrique replied with a nod, “por favor. And you guys haven’t seen each other since like the nineties?” he added, speaking to Beth and Mary.

“Well that isn’t super strange really,” Jordan said, “I mean, it is a big travel time and all, right?”

Enrique bobbled his head in reluctant agreement as Beth said, “Yeah. Saw each other, what? Twice after grandpa died? Almost twenty years now? I mean, we used to write some when we both lived in the States and then we emailed some when I moved to Iceland but things get busy. I’m more likely to hear what Mary’s up to from my mom than I am from her.”

“Ditto,” Mary said with a shrug. “I agree with Zach though. The craziest part is that we wound up here together at the same place at the same time.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Enrique said, nodding. “I got one thing to say though. One thing to the Zach-meister there. Didn’t somebody say to me how important it is to keep in touch?”

“Hmmm,” Zach acknowledged, nodding his head, “that sounds very familiar. I’ll have to remember it. Oh, hey!” he added. “Wasn’t that the same guy who told you not to kill too many braincells?”

“Just shut up and pass me a sangria. Please.”

Bryan and Brian: Part 38 of 39

24 Monday Feb 2020

Posted by keithakenel in Fiction

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Tags

Airplane- "Joey? Have you ever been in a Turkish Prison?", Augusta Maine, Brian Gunnarson, Bryan Brown, Elizabeth Gunnarson, Enrique, Jordan, Joseph Gunnarson, Mary Brown, Phoenix Arizona, Playa Los Muertos, Puerto Vallarta, Reykjavik Ice Land, Thomas, Wellington New Zealand, Zach Brown

THIRTY-EIGHT
Zach dove toward the side of the kidnapper to ensure that the monster’s fall would be away from rather than on top of his son. Flying through the air, arms outstretched he saw Mary running towards Brian, fear and furry in her eyes. Though he plainly saw Mary in front of and to his right he heard her voice scream something unintelligible from behind him. Distracted from his prey the kidnapper deftly moved from his path of flight and Zach landed headfirst in the surf as Enrique, Thomas, Jordan and the fourth New Yorker cut off the kidnapper’s escape route up the beach.

“You move one inch and you will never move again!” Enrique screamed at Joseph. “Bryan! Bryan! Get up! Come here,” he added, crouching low and extending both hands to the boy who sat crying in the surf.

“Stop! Stop!” Mary yelled as she ran next to Enrique shaking her head furiously, Bryan held close in her arms. “That’s not my Bryan! And that man is Brian’s father! His mother’s right there!” she added, pointing at Elizabeth. “This is all a huge misunderstanding!” Beth surged into the surf, plucked her wailing son up from the waves and flashed vengeful eyes at the four men who surrounded her and her family. “Beth! Stop! It’s me! Mary! It’s okay! It’s okay!”

Zach rose from the water, faced up shore, saw two of his wife and two of his son and froze. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Mary?” Beth asked, her voice raw but ferocity receding. “What the hell is going on?!”

“I think we are the victims of the most ridiculous set of preposterous coincidences the world has ever seen. Zach? Meet my cousin Beth. Beth, this is Zach and our son Bryan, and you must be Joseph?” she added, shaking her head. “I’ve seen your picture but we haven’t met.”

Joe strode to Beth and wrapped his arms around his wife and child, voiceless sobs causing his chest to visibly sputter. “Brian, Brian, Brian. It’s okay. We’ve got you now. We’ve got you now.”

Enrique turned to his left, threw his hands out palms skyward and asked his friend Thomas, “What in the hell happened here?”

“You told us to run,” Thomas replied, arms folded across his chest, nostrils flaring, “so we ran. Jesus, guys. ‘Joey, have you ever been in a Turkish prison?’”

Joe tilted his head to the side, completely missing Thomas’ Pop-Culture reference. He then turned to Zach and stared at him for three long seconds. “You thought my Bryan was your son?”

“Yes! I’m sorry! They look so much-”

Joseph held his hand next to his face, palm facing Zach. “And you ran after me to save your boy?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Joe said nodding. “I see,” he repeated as he squeezed his family once more before wading into the ocean, hand outstretched. “My name is Joseph Gunnarson. This is my wife Mary and our son Bryan. It is nice to finally meet you,” he said, shaking hands. Pausing he added, “Your reputation precedes you. Bryan?” he asked, squatting low and motioning with both hands for his wife and son to join them. “These three are your cousins. I do not know who these other men are but apparently they too were willing to take great risks to protect an innocent child from harm so it would honor me to make your acquaintances?”

Day of Palms

25 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by keithakenel in Poetry

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Tags

Barabbas, Canaan, Christianity, Crucifixion, Free Will, Gethsemane, Jerusalem, Judas, Messiah, Palm Fronds, Palm Sunday, Peter, Predestination, Thomas

Image result for Jesus with palm frondsJoyful Christ triumphant on this day of palms,
greeted as Messiah by the cheering throngs.
Line his path with palm fronds as he passes by,
hail Sacrificial Lamb who’s sentenced to die.

Judas travels with him, Barabbas awaits;
traveling companion traitor, seals our common fate.
Gethsemane garden, soldier lend an ear!
Day of jubilation! Passover meal draws near.

Hail the strength of Peter! Swears he knows him not;
Thomas’ explorations await his doubts.
Freewill! Predestination? Saved by words or deeds?
Future generations’ dogmatic mysteries.

Today is Palm Sunday! Son is shining bright!
Jesus’ excructiation not yet in sight.
Whole, wide world joyful! The King, Son of Man,
enters Jerusalem! Rejoice land of Canaan!

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