To learn more about Not Yet Reel and to order your own copy, visit this page.

Presenting “Love Is Blind,” a thoughtful and gripping short story selection for Not Yet Reel, by Paul Spite.

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Love Is Blind

The man’s finger slowly traced the curve of the young lady’s cheek. Had he been able to see, he would’ve loved the smile it brought to her face. But he could feel it through his fingertips. What he couldn’t feel was the purple birthmark starting above her right lip, extending up nearly to her right eye. His hands weren’t nearly as sensitive to the blemish as was the object of his love.

He whispered in her ear. “I love you so much. The fact I can’t see you doesn’t hinder my knowing how beautiful you are.”

His lack of sight also didn’t prevent Jason from crossing the city. His Seeing Eye dog allowed more freedom of movement than his cane had. He just had to move slowly. Apparently not caring that it cast doubts on his manhood; he stopped several times to ask for directions. A doorman, right before he arrived, gave him sight dependent directions before realizing his mistake. Despite obstacles, Jason made it to his appointment on time. The sign beside the door read, “Sight for Sore Eyes.”

“Visual reality may not be quite what you imagine.”

At least the doctor wasn’t catering to him. Jason hated that.

“It has to be better than what I have now.”

“Perhaps not! I can’t tell, having never been you. But I’m curious. You’ve been blind your whole life. Our procedure, while amazing, carries a definite set of risks. We’re proud of what we’ve accomplished, but we rarely get patients like you. Most who’ve already adapted as well as you, don’t bother. You’ve done well your whole life. Why now?”

“I’ve heard of colors all my life. I hear the sunset described, the color of someone’s eyes, and I’ve no framework to understand any of it. I feel like a two dimensional person in a three dimensional world.”

“Suppose the procedure fails? It does sometimes, you know.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the young lady entering the office. She would’ve been very attractive were her face not terribly marred by a birthmark. Jason introduced Eileen proudly as his fiancée. The girl looked the doctor directly in his eyes, despite her own being slightly crossed. Her voice sounded like music as she greeted the doctor.

Jason answered the last question. “I’d be blind then, just as I am now. But what if it works? We’re getting married in four months, sir. When I lift the veil off my bride, I want to be able to look in her eyes.”

Suddenly concerned, the doctor asked to speak to Jason alone. Eileen rose to step outside. Before she did, she favored the doctor with a grave and serene gaze. It seemed she was looking deep into his soul.

Alone, the doctor resumed. He asked Jason to describe his lady. Jason could’ve talked for hours, but the doctor stopped him after a few minutes. Everything the boy said described his woman’s character. After meeting her, the doctor had to agree. She was indeed a beautiful soul. But what did the boy think she looked like?

“Her mind, her heart, her voice, and her love are beautiful. She must be beautiful physically as well.”

The doctor was very worried. Seeking time to think, he described the procedure. Essentially, they embedded small photo-sensitive plates onto a patient’s retinas. If the optic nerve still functioned, the plate was wired directly to it. If not, they installed conductive nano-fibers to the nerves leading to the brain from behind the optic nerve. Lenses in each eye were replaced with very powerful artificial ones to focus incoming light on the retinal plates. Many patients reported actual sight within a week or so afterwards.

The risks were these: The mind wasn’t used to such signals. It would act to protect itself from strange input, if not given a chance to adjust and adapt slowly. Moreover, the lenses focused light, just like a magnifying glass. In a typical situation, that focus fell on living cells and the eye adjusted as needed. In his case, the light would strike metal plates that retained heat. Should Jason forget and stare directly at the sun, he could count on two small hot plates in his eyes permanently frying nerves behind them. He’d never get a second chance.

Jason smiled. “I’ve never seen the sun. I guess I’ll trade not looking at it for seeing everything else. When can we do the operation?”

The doctor sighed. “The receptionist will have you sign a waiver of responsibility. It indicates you understand the procedure and find the risks acceptable. Then you’ll come back in three days for testing. If that goes well, we’ll see you back the following week. Maybe you’ll see us as well.”

Jason was jubilant rejoining Eileen. He just knew the procedure would work. For some reason, she seemed reserved, but genuinely happy for him. She rubbed absently at her birthmark as he spoke of how happy he’d be to see her, his lovely bride. She reminded him beauty came from within. He told her she deserved a whole man. She declared she loved him just as he was. She really sounded worried, but he was too excited to notice.

They walked together, hand in hand. They played a game only lovers in their circumstances could appreciate. She would obliquely describe for him what she saw, while he tried to guess what she was describing. A row of spears, pointed at the sky, was a cast iron fence. He missed the dragon crouched behind school children with teeth bared, until she acknowledged it was plastic and he heard children on the playground. Knowing they were near the library, he easily identified crouching lions threatening book lovers as stone statues guarding the building. The man stuffing a “hole” pastry in his mouth was outside a donut shop.

Whenever possible, as he solved each riddle, he experienced it by touch. The music of her voice and laughter made the day marvelous. The game was even more enjoyable with the poignant realization that it was the last time they would play it. His operation was the next day.

Afterwards, he wanted to wait three weeks to see her. The first time would be when he lifted the veil for their first kiss as man and wife.

Jason woke up in the darkened room, extremely nervous. The bandages were removed. He looked around in wonder afterwards. The doctor was busy testing his sight in various ways. Hand eye coordination was bizarre at first. His mother watched him as attentively as he watched her. When the doctor finished satisfying himself with the procedure’s outcome, he asked the young man’s thoughts. Jason unfortunately looked at his mother when he answered.

“Well, people aren’t as pretty as I thought they’d be.”

He was delighted to see the sudden frown creasing his doctor’s face. He’d never seen one of those before either.

The young man walked alone, needing no guide. His eyes could direct his steps. He experienced not only the sounds, but the sights of his city. He watched a group of young people mock an old woman behind her back. As he continued, beautiful buildings were gradually replaced by ones covered in graffiti and grime. Beautiful cars once identified by sound alone, were marred by rust and dents. Spears to the sky had peeling paint. The fearsome dragon was coated with pigeon droppings. And majestic lions did their best to ignore trash and debris around their paws.

Seeking beauty, he walked in the park. The swans on the pond were so graceful. Flower gardens were brilliant in the rich sunlight. The children playing wore brightly colored clothing and laughed beautifully. Then he saw sudden hatred on a mother’s face as she slapped her child. Wincing, he turned away to see the scab covered man, sleeping on newspapers below the bench. Tears flooded his eyes, ending the barrage of sensations.

A sober young man requested another meeting with the eye doctor.

“Well, you warned me, didn’t you?”

“I tried. Every sense, every gift comes with blessings and curses. There’s beauty in the world, but there’s pain in it as well.”

The young man sat in silence, head down.

The doctor gently asked. “Isn’t anything better than you imagined it would be?”

Jason’s face lit up momentarily. “The flowers are incredible. And the sky. Wow! Did you know it changes color from day to day, sometimes hour to hour? And the sunset, did you …”
Jason began laughing. “Yeah, I guess you know that, don’t you?”

The doctor smiled. “It’s nice to be reminded every now and then though. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind.”

Jason sighed. “I’m getting married in two days, doctor. Would you tell me the truth? Is Eileen as beautiful as I imagine her?”

The doctor looked out the window. A month earlier, Jason never would have seen the tears welling up in the man’s eyes.

“If all you ever knew of her was the beauty of her soul, you’d be blessed indeed. Nothing else compares to that. Nothing is as beautiful as we imagine it to be, except maybe God. Be careful that your dreams don’t become crushed by the weight of your expectations.”

Jason stood and started to shake the doctor’s hand. He changed his mind and drew the startled man into a hug. “Thanks for being truthful, and for everything else you’ve done.”

The young man in the tuxedo walked down the steps of his apartment to wait for the taxi. The cane he carried was that of a blind man, though he clearly didn’t need it. When he saw his ride approaching, he looked carefully around him. He gazed intently at the sky before stooping to pick a flower. As the taxi came to a stop, he laid the bloom carefully on the grass. He sighed deeply.

Then he turned to stare directly at the noon sun.

At the church, he left his dark glasses on. The identity they lent him was who he was. When his pastor told him he could kiss the bride, he had no problem finding her lips. His finger slid through her tears as he traced the curve of her face, and whispered.

“You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

Can you even begin to imagine how Amanda felt?

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As she looked at the bodies of her daughter and son, somewhere in her mind, she knew she should be afraid. By force of will, she pushed down the rising terror.

She needed to stay conscious long enough to call for help. She was able to get the receiver from the wall phone firmly in hand before falling again. Fighting down hysteria, lying between the bodies of all she had left in this life, she called 911.

That call would finish destroying her world.

The crashing sound did little to disturb Amanda. She sluggishly thought of getting up to grab a butcher knife, but by the time she started upward, the intruders were upon her. 

“Miss? Are you okay? Are they still in the house?” The patrolman knelt beside her and spoke. When he received only a blank stare, he spoke behind him to a second officer she had not noticed. “Call for back-up. Search the house. I will stay with her.”

She managed to tug at his sleeve to get his attention. She fuzzily told him, “I think my kids need help.”

He glanced at the bodies in swift assessment. With his face carefully neutral, he promised help was coming. Her last thought, before the darkness claimed her again, was to wonder why he was lying.

An ugly truth began to dawn in her mind. They thought she had killed her children.

Almost certainly, these men were not the ones who came in response to her call. Those had been uniformed; these were in suits. The only one who had really introduced himself was Frank Adams. The others had not bothered. One man in a suit seemed vaguely familiar. She could not remember meeting him before, but she might have seen a picture of him. He had arrived much later than the others.

It did not help her interrogators that she was incoherent at times. She also claimed to remember almost nothing of the evening after arriving home. When the late arrival asked if she had any habits or vices, Amanda’s head jerked up. She knew she was behaving oddly. “I’m not a drug user, mister. Save your breath. Not now. Not ever. Not even in the Sixties. Feel free to test me.”

He looked at her strangely. “Mrs. Delaney, we already have. Our doctor drew blood from you right after we read you your rights.” She stared at him with a feeling of dread as he went on. “You tested positive for some kind of narcotic. We’re still trying to identify it, but we will eventually.”

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Did Amanda kill her children? Why has she tested positive for narcotics? Find out today by reading the full version of The Power of  Pawn. Click here for reviews and more information.

What activities do you enjoy doing with your loved ones?

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The only sound in the afternoon was that of their heavy breathing and their footfalls on the track. Tom and Amanda had the stadium to themselves that day. She had joined him for his daily workout. Her goal was just to stay fit and in running condition. She would have left it at that, but his words were a bit too patronizing for her liking.

“You’ve been a good sport, but you can rest for a while now. Stay here and after I’m finished, we can get a bite to eat.”

“I’ll keep running with you. I enjoy a good workout too.”

“I need to run a little faster. I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

“Reeeaaaally?”

Amanda began to slowly speed up. For a moment, Tom didn’t realize what she was doing. He just sped up to keep pace with her. Then he caught on to what was happening.

“Do you really want to challenge me, little girl? Did I mention I nearly hold the record for speed on the team?”

She was panting as they began to run full out. “I am so impressed. Since you absolutely hate it when I try to pay, let’s make a little wager. We run one more complete lap from the line ahead. Whoever wins gets to buy dinner for the other one”

He grinned. “As you wish, little one!”

They got down to the business of racing as seriously as two people can when pride is on the line. He led slightly through the first half of the lap, with Amanda hard on his heels. Then she reached out and patted him gently on the back.

“See you after I’m done paying for dinner.”

She left him behind with ease, crossing the line a full three steps in front of him. She could feel him staring at her back as she walked away. She was smiling all the way to the car. He never said a word about it through dinner. He just looked away whenever she started smiling again.

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The anxious public defender stopped briefly before leaving Raleigh. He needed to visit with a former client in the county jail. James was serving a much shorter sentence than the time he would have been doing without Samuel’s help. He was glad to see his attorney again. When Samuel described his new client’s amnesia and the theory that narcotics were involved, his buddy was skeptical.

“There’s no way man! Bout any narcotic, you would remember somethin’ like that happenin’. You would be mellowed out anyway, not violent.”

Samuel asked, “No offense, but what is the chance you’re wrong?”

James laughed. “I been in here a while. Maybe somethin’ new on the streets I don’t know ‘bout. But I think I’m pretty up on everything that used to be out there. I dealt ‘em all, Sam. Never been a narcotic on the street or in here that would do what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Would any drug at all blank out memories of your actions, especially bad ones? “

“Lots of drugs would! But not narcotics. Now hallucinogens, shrooms or buttons, somethin’ like that — that would do it.”

James looked at his friend with knowing eyes, as Samuel’s plight dawned on him. “Man, if you got stuck representing that chick that killed her kids, you gotta face it. She’s faking that memory thing.”

Samuel wearily asked if there was anyone who hadn’t already made up their mind about Mrs. Delaney.

“Don’t know ‘bout out on the street, but in here, everyone knows ‘bout her. Lots of folks want to trash her. Killing kids is pretty low. ‘Specially your own.”

That had been earlier. Now Samuel was alone at the lake, praying desperately for guidance on how to defend his new client. Since the loss of his fiancé three years prior, prayer had been his refuge and source of strength. He still had no idea why God let bad things happen, but he had come to believe that God at least heard his cries and cared. Tonight though, his prayers were going exactly nowhere. Every time he asked for answers, or at least some direction, all he received back was a bewildering sense of peace.

He kept rejecting the offer. His client needed help and he needed ideas or, better yet, solutions. Peace was not what he came for.

The sun had gone down before he rose stiffly to his feet. Instead of going home, he returned to the county jail. There he asked to speak once more with Mrs. Delaney.

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The Power of a Pawn is available now as an e-book, through Smashwords.com. Find out Amanda’s fate today by clicking here.

Who is your favorite character in The Power of a Pawn? If you’re not sure yet, read it today by clicking on this link.

Below is author Paul Spite’s description of who Samuel Chelsey is. Does it fit the way you imagined Samuel?

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Name: Samuel Chelsey

Short description:

This public defender is a fighter, willing to take on impossible odds with little to offer except a willingness to learn and determination. He will learn to offer love as well, though he is a little bewildered about how to do so.

Race: White, partially Irish or Scottish descent.

Age: Mid thirties. It took him a while to get through a few years of trade school and then law school.

Height and weight: A little shy of six feet tall, possibly around 180 pounds.

Other physical characteristics:

Samuel is a bit stocky, in reasonably good condition, though he does not work at it. He plays a little at tennis, but does so strictly for fun. He is not competitive at sports, saving his energy for the courtroom. He likes to bowl, and actually enjoys the social aspects of ball room dancing. This lends a certain grace to his movements.

Samuel is the product of a blue collar environment. He is proud of this, thinking of himself as a friend of the common folk. It is to defend people like his parents that he has studied law. He is proud of his growing ability to do so, but remains defensive when around higher profile lawyers. He will form a special student/mentor relationship with Mr. Jonathon Burns.

As a book, The Power of a Pawn is no different, and readers are left with plenty to imagine and wrap their minds around.

The same will not be true when The Power of a Pawn is made into a film, and the scenery, people and sounds become tangible. Below is Paul Spite’s envisioning of a character vital to The Game of Life as a series. How does Paul’s description compare to what you imagined when you were reading The Power of a Pawn?

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Name: Abraham Khartor

Short description:

This doctor exchanges his freedom for Amanda’s life. He is a believer in God with a simple approach to his faith and beliefs. If it is the right thing to do, it is worth doing, regardless of the personal cost.

Race: Arabic in general, Palestinian in particular. He does not speak of his heritage, since he has been an American citizen since he was about eight years old.

Age: Around fifty-five years old

Height and weight: 5’-10”, roughly about 170-180 pounds. He is a bit chubby.

Other physical characteristics: Slightly balding, with large ears and a slightly hooked nose.

Abraham Khartor is a kind man who shares his people’s love and dedication for family. As a follower of Christ, he extends that love to whoever he finds in need. He exudes warmth and it is easy to relax around him and trust him.

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Check out the other character descriptions that have been posted so far!

Lawyer Jonathon Burns

Supportive mother April Abrey

Cold and cruel Jack Delaney

Death row Amanda Abrey

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Amanda and Mrs. Abrey were still in their clothes from the funeral service. It was a pity Amanda’s dress was so nice. She probably should have changed it before crouching into a ball at the back of the closet. At least that was her mother’s opinion when she pulled her once again from her favorite hiding place. She thought they needed to talk.

“I don’t want to talk about Daddy now. Please just leave me alone.”

Her mother’s grip on her own grief was beginning to slip. She was also becoming more and more distraught.

“We cannot deal with our problems by hiding, baby. You must find a way to come to grips with them. We have to find things to do to take our mind off our loss. It will be like this every day for a long while.”

When Amanda remained silent, April told her as gently as possible. “Go upstairs and change out of that dress before you ruin it. Do not get in any more hiding places either. Not today. We will sit and talk after you get your outfit changed.”

Instead, dressed in running clothes, Amanda let herself quietly out of the back door of their home. Crossing to a side street, she began to run. She ran until she was exhausted, while tears streamed down her face.

When her mother found her later, she was still in her running clothes. Rather than move her from the couch in her father’s den, Mrs. Abrey quietly covered her daughter and left her there to sleep.

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This is only part of Amanda’s story. Read about the terrible nightmare she woke up to and how a novice public defender put his reputation on the line to rescue her in The Power of a Pawn, the first installment in The Game of Life Series. Click here to purchase the e-book now.

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An adolescent Samuel burst from the back door of his home. He ran to where his two older brothers were standing by a burn barrel. There was a blaze burning merrily in the receptacle. The oldest, glancing at Samuel racing toward them, laughed as he dropped the last stack of comic books into the fire.

Samuel slid to a stop, trembling with anger. “Who do you think you are?” he hissed through clenched teeth. The other brother turned contemptuously toward him. “No, who do you think you are, Sammy? You need to stop reading these stupid books about superheroes and learn how to play some sports. Or something!” He smiled.

“We are your big brothers. We just decided to help you grow up a little.”

“Those .. were .. my .. books.”

His brother reached out to pat his head and Samuel shied away from the touch.

“Well, now they are not. See how simple that was?”

Samuel’s fist balled up. “You are going to pay for this.”

His response was derision. “You must like getting beat up every day of your life. Which one of us would you like to do the honors today?”

“Watch out for him. He may have superpowers.”

“Yeah! He kind of looks like a punk. We could call him, ‘Super Punk.’”

That was as far as they got before he hit the second brother in the stomach. Powered by anger, he prevailed for a moment over both of them before they finally pinned him to the ground. Slapping his face, the oldest brother warned him to never try that again. Then he released Samuel.

Instantly, he attacked again. After four tries at fighting them, and four times of failing, he was ready to go again when his mother came around the garage from the driveway. As they released him, readying the story they would tell their mother, they hissed one last warning.

“You had better stop this.”

His vehement reply was this. “I will never quit.”

Samuel had realized something halfway through that fight. His brothers were suddenly afraid of their new seemingly fearless sibling.

That day, he learned an important lesson about conflict. It is not so much about strength, as it is about the price tag of winning. If a fight was unavoidable, but against unbeatable odds, the cost of the victory could still be raised until it became unaffordable. He would remember that lesson.”

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How did Samuel’s “I will never quit” direct his steps in adulthood? Find out now by reading The Power of a Pawn, the e-book.

The man erratically driving a pickup truck through the parking lot did have my attention. Especially after he hit and dragged a shopping cart for a fair distance. I was just dialing the police when he rammed into the side of a car entering the lot from the street. Then he backed up, jumped a curbed island, and fled the scene at a high rate of speed. After reaching a dispatcher, I ran to the side of the damaged car. The young people in the parking lot were already assisting the elderly couple inside. When the police came, I did my best to give them a report of what happened, but my details were sketchy and limited. I described a light colored, older pickup truck. The young people supplied the officer with the exact color, the year, the make, the engine size, the cab type, and body work that had been done to the vehicle.

While taking our report, the officer received a call about a second hit and run incident, likely involving the same vehicle. Against our advice, several of the young men left to drive away in different directions. They were searching for the vehicle, to call the police to it, before anyone else could be injured. One also offered to drive the elderly couple to their home (in another town) should their car prove to not be roadworthy.

Some would have called these youngsters vagrants and asked the police to drive them away. Some would have insisted they were up to no good and should not be allowed to loiter on other people’s property. I was honored to have met them.