Brownstonelit's Blog

I told you before the day wasn’t over yet. It’s 10:44 P.M. and all I can say is…
Oh my God!
I know where. I know when. I know why… and now at last, I finally know who.

You know that really cheezey part in spy movies like the James Bond series where they ask the spy what he knows and the spy responds,
“I could tell you… but then I’d have to shoot you.”

Yeah… that part. Today is the 29th of September and as promised, several things have already happened and the days not even over yet!

You want to know what they are?
Well, I could tell you… but then I ‘d have to…
You get the drill!
Until later then…

9/28/10

Tomorrow is the 29th of September and I wait at the edge of my chair to see what it is that Charley wanted to alert me to. Never has some date been given without some sort of confirmation and/or occurrence happening. Maybe I will finally be able to get through to the older woman who has information for me. Or maybe I will hear back from R on specific questions that deal with Theodore. Maybe my book at a conference in North Carolina will do well in its showing… or maybe, just maybe I shall hear something from the ‘authorities that be’ about my report and they will begin pursuit of this case in earnest. Or maybe, Rox will finally step forward and give up the secret of her identity from under the murky waters of…

If you were able to finish this sentence it is only because of one of two things. You either know me very well…

Or… you were one of the ‘four in flannel’ that was there the night she went missing!

9/27/10

This morning at 6:47 I awoke to rain and a gray day. There was a small hint of damp coolness in the air and as I walked dogs in the half light of dawn I was acutely aware of nostalgia creeping in. Fallen leaves pasted to the sides of my clogs as I crossed the lawn and the patter of rain as it slid down the street drains kept cadence with the clicking of the dogs’ toenails on the asphalt. The phantom scent of kindergarten glue paste and cinnamon flavored Red Hots in apple cider invaded my memory banks and I suddenly realized that October is but days away. I looked back at the front door- what was I thinking? By now there should have been dried corn stocks and faux pumpkins embracing the front stoop. Where is time running to so fast these days that I have so little time for myself or my family? Has my insatiable need to validate my work with cold cases (writing) become so blinding that I am myopic to all else?
I slow in my approach to the steps and let the rain drool into the collar of my housecoat. I need to slow down. Need to pace myself and find a minute here and there for Charley, but also a minute here and there for me.

Another show in the can leaves me now with just one show to produce for the next month and a half. The additional show combined with school and other obligations has pushed me to the limits this past two weeks. Mentally and physically I am stretched as far as I believe I can get and yesterday morning I found out my psychic/medium/detective will be relocating to another part of the country. Along with a plethora of other unforeseen complications, I believe I have reached my saturation point for frustrations. Still, no rest for the weary as they say…

A new school week is upon me and without compassion for my exhaustion it will roll on through without even the slightest concern for my breaching the melting point.
Breathe… breathe … I keep hearing myself say. The job is imperative to my family’s survival and my writing is imperative to mine. School was my idea and so I am unable to chastise anyone but myself for such strain. I comfort myself with the knowledge that a few short years from now I will look back and see this as another achievement worthy of my efforts. It is only now in the thick of my chaos that I see it as strain and not segue to a better, bolder me. In the meantime I shall take in deep the slight morning chills, enjoy the turn of foliage and the sweet, crisp shadows of baring trees that will begin to exhaust themselves earlier each day on my way to the theatre where night is always tinged with the magic of potential.

I look at the clock and realize I have chapters to read and quizzes to study for and just when I feel the overwhelming urge to scream, I hear the faint call of Carole King and the Gilmore Girls, gulp down a few sips of my cold coffee, look out side my window at the ever green and the ever gray and sigh that I am exactly where I am meant to be…

At my laptop!

9/25/10
It has been a fascinating week for me. I was honored with a speaking engagement, an award for a programming effort and opened a great show. My grades are still good and while the homework is daunting in so far as time commitments… I am still on track and continuing to manage my time accordingly. Besides Charley’s Birthday, this week also brought me another gift; the gift of introduction. Two introductions in fact. One to someone who I hope will be instrumental in helping me find out who Rox was and the other whom I hope will be instrumental with attaining a personal goal. Oddly enough, my life report for this month told me that I would receive an award for a past effort. I assumed it had something to do with my book and not the theatre. Who knew?

Life is such a mystery and I am always amazed at how things manifest themselves in my life. I cannot speak for others and how the universe connects with them. Most people are so bound by their experience and by their perception of that experience that they forget to look for the lesson it came attached to. As a species, we make life so complicated. It is our blessing and our curse to do so. My blessing and my curse is an insatiable appetite for information and wisdom. “Curiosity killed the cat” they say and no doubt one day you shall hear of my own and when you do… be certain to listen carefully for that tiny Meow that may follow- for this cat does not always know when to keep its nose clear of certain things.

And that begs the question- when is enough, enough? I now think I can pretty much put all the pieces together in a plausible fashion; even though certain specifics evade me. But that’s not the point. I cannot begin to put pen to pad in earnest until I get the go ahead from Charley and while he teases and tickles at my outline, he has yet begun to set me free from research. Is it because it is still in the end of a nine year that I must wait? Or is it that there is something more I have yet to learn about in regards to the questions still unanswered?

Questions like:
Why the baking association to Rox? Who is young Theodore who gifts her and then is never mentioned again? Who exactly are the “four in flannel” who were there that night in the room with her? Or rather… I think I can vouch for two- it is the remaining two that give me pause. Why did Chance not go for outside help on this? Why did the grim reaper manipulate so many deaths and then have the audacity to stand so tall in a church pew? Why have others continued to chatter when some have gone silent? Who was the man who drove the fire truck? Who is the mother whose child fell down a ravine? Who owned the small fishing boat that heard and saw things he dare not tell others?

While some clues erupt and some fade, they continually make a circle and come back with a vengeance. No doubt they will continue to present them to me until I find the segue. It is ok by me. I am busy just now- patience is currently possible only due to fatigue and exhaustion. But do not think that you are safe- those of you who wait with baited breath to see what I know and what I have already shared with others.

Months ago I was told that I may find more information from an older woman with a foot or leg injury who may have more information for me. R reminds me the most important thing to remember is trust. Trust that they will provide information that is useful and trust that I will find the connections when I need them or when they are right. Thursday I found both. We shall see what I am able to harvest of them each!

Another reading presented the date of September 29 as significant. I initially thought perhaps this might be a piece of throwback information to 1966. Maybe attached to Rox somehow- maybe the night she was assaulted and left for dead. Or maybe it is about a contemporary conference where my first book is being displayed. Perhaps it is even attached significantly to something that happened this week. Either way, the mantra is to trust. Trust that there is reason and cause for all that comes into my path. Trust that I have been chosen to receive information for good and not for evil. Trust that I am wise enough to know what to do with it all in the end. So the question remains; is a clue a clue only if you figure it out? Or is a clue still a clue, even if you have yet to find its connection?

Since “curiosity killed the cat”, I shall listen to the quiet meow inside my head that tells me when I am too close to a suspect for comfort… or just far enough away for safety and “Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…” in the meantime to keep you all guessing! I will get what I am looking for- make no doubt about that!

Until then, I shall wait like a small child at the top of the stairs; frightened that Santa may find me awake and spying on him, yet equally frightened that he may come and I might miss him because I fell asleep!

A wise man knows that if he goes digging through enough dirt in a cememtery… he will find an awful lot of skeletons.
Maybe even his own!

9/22/10
Autumn begins…
Did you ever feel like you were standing at the edge of a great precipice and that for want of just the right footing, great things awaited you on the other side? Yesterday was a day of such angst. I saw number patterns in everything I saw. License plates, clocks, house addresses…even the cable channels. No matter what I was doing or where I looked; the numbers were everywhere … teasing with untold wisdom. It was also Charley’s Birthday and while I received information- I do not know if it is the gift that I have been waiting for. Silly, I know. It was Charley’s Birthday and yet I sat waiting patiently at the end of my day waiting for a gift. A gift of information I was certain he would manipulate my way.
All day I kept vigil- for a call, an email… a whisper. And it dawned on me. Those things were important to me- not him and maybe… just maybe, I did receive my gift and I did not recognize it as such, because I was looking for something more nefarious. Something tied to the case. Infact I recall looking at the clock last night at 11:56 P.M. and thought- I’m sorry Charley. I thought I would have something earth shattering to share with you before midnight- and quite frankly- visa-versa. Mostly because whenever I hit brick walls in this case- I throw my hands up in the air, ask for help and he comes to my aid. And so I waited … thinking- I gave him nothing but lip service. I wished him a Happy Birthday every time I thought about him, but it never felt as though it was enough. I would have bought him a card, but to where would I have sent it? I would have baked him a cake, but hey- Who are we kidding! I would have eaten most of it and I really don’t need that right now!
Determined to do more, I thought about what else I could do that might be extra meaningful. My phone rang and I couldn’t get to it on time- so I had to replay my voicemails. I have many I saved- some just because…
Let me explain.
Even though all I could do was say the words and wish Charley a happy day, I was reminded once by my father that an act of remembrance is a gift in itself. On my father’s 82 Birthday I remember trying to call him several times that day. No answer. Each time, I called; I was forced to leave a message. Later that evening, he finally called back and had to leave me a message because I was at work. He had gotten up early that day. Brought the phone into the bathroom with him, so as not to miss any calls and then accidentally left his cell phone in his housecoat that morning- hung in the bathroom closet and had spent the entire day wondering why he had not heard from any of his ten children! When he finally realized he did not have his cell phone with him, he retraced his steps. Between kids and grandkids his phone had over 37 phone calls from all of us trying to wish him a Happy Birthday. The message he left on my phone in return is still there.
My father died three weeks after he left it and at the time I thought his response odd. Instead of saying thanks for calling to wish me a Happy Birthday; he said- “Thanks for the act of remembrance”. After his death- it finally hit me. Perhaps he knew somehow that his message would remain with me not just for the “occasion” of his Birthday- but for the remainder of my life.
I cannot tell you how many times I have played it over and over again- just to hear him speak my name- to hear him remind me that I too shared an important role in his heart. So for Charley, I wanted to give him more than just a “Happy Birthday” wish on such a special day. If I were to be perfectly honest- I thought perhaps someone would call or write of some snippet of information that would be just the piece I need to close this puzzle out and that I could present him with a finished package. All the details, evidence and conjectures tied up in a pretty little box and bow.
Instead – always the mentor and guide, Charley gave me something even more precious. At exactly 11:56 P.M. I got a call from my middle daughter who had moved out to be on her own earlier in the summer. She thought for certain I would still be up doing homework and wanted to chat for a minute. At exactly 11:59 P.M.- she lost the fresh patina of maturity and in a tiny voice liken to the precocious child she’d always been, told me that though she was glad she had moved out to try life on her own- she loved me, she missed me and didn’t want to go to bed without letting me know that. We spoke for one minute more before and as we both yawned and said our good nights- the clock struck midnight.
I got it. Subtle as a two ton truck, he is- my Charley. While I was waiting for spooky shadows to whisper to me about fictitious daggers in the night or early morning confessions of guilt by wayward strangers I may never meet- he was reminding me about the gifts that count. Solving his murder is one thing. Finding out what really happened to Rox and who she really was is another. But the thing that he wanted most for his Birthday is the gift he gave to me.
Thank you for the Birthday gift of “remembrance”, Charley…
As midnight struck and my daughter reminded me that I had a place of importance in her heart… I’m certain Charley’s daughter rolled over in her bed, gazed into the stars and in the same tiny voice liken to her as a child whispered…
“Daddy, I love you …I miss you and I didn’t want to go to bed without telling you so.”

Happy Birthday Charley…
Now make a wish and blow out their candles!
I can’t wait for “them” to open your present…they should have it by now!

9/19/10

I can’t quite get over the 1223 Bakers Way reference. Now to be sure, there is a building at that address and like I said it is in Manhattan, Kansas of all places. Even more insane is that it is the American Institute of Baking. Now the thing that gets me- which is what I love about this kind of backwards research- is that some of the first impressions by R in regards to Rox are about baking. She sees Rox making a pineapple upside down cake. She see her in a very nicely equipped professional kitchen. Another name is suggested- Wisenbaker- and again there is an association somehow, but it is the ‘baker’ portion of the name that comes through the most. So my dear Charley- what is it they are trying to guide me to? What do we know about Rox so far?
She is very pretty- well put together, so to speak. She has long dirty blonde hair. Likes to bake- has a thing about cosmetics; or that the family is in the cosmetics business. She is between 18 and 22. She likes to wear jewelry- she has a necklace with a “V” either engraved into it- or it is in the shape of a V. We know she received two roses- has white poodle that is continually around her. She dates older men. We know Theodore Shilning gave her a broach with a purple orchid on it; though this ‘relationship’ may have been when she was younger as her father seems to have been unhappy with her choice. And generally one’s father knows his place after the age of 18.

We also know that at some point she was with, “the four who wear flannel” from Valdosta-or maybe some of the men from the Tifton WOW lodge 1545. Seems a crap load of stuff took place there too- but I feel for this scenario she is more closely tied to Valdosta. We know the man with the small fishing boat saw and heard some things. We know she has a tie to – or a connection to the grim reaper and the MOT. Do you not recall the blog about, “… the crow threatened to to scratch out grim’s eyes…” We know that grim is tied to Rox and Rox is tied to the MOT. That she was possibly raped and strangled and that her remains may be sitting at the bottom of…

Oh now, I can’t tell you that! That wouldn’t be fair. You must wait same as I to find out if all this is true first- then we go for the body!
Now, one would think we know a great deal about Rox and yet… I will have to ask Charley to keep plugging the holes on this one.

So what is the connection to the American Institute of Baking? Why was it important they tell me about Theodore and where is this building with the yellow flag or banner about a flagpole?

Talk to me Rox. I cannot help the MOT clear his name or discover your true murderer if you do not talk to me. Talk to Charley- he knows how to get me the information. He understands the shorthand. You have until Wednesday Rox. That’s Charley’s Birthday and I would like to give him another present that day – closure on this case.

The book is in outline Charley. All I’m waiting on is Rox. Explain to her that I can only piece so many parts of the puzzle without her help. Give her up to me Charley, so that I might set you both free.

9/18/10
The thing I love about Charley is that he is a very generous man. When I offer to give him a present- he gives me one back!

Theodore – who are you?
You gave a purple orchid broach to Rox, even though her father didn’t want you seeing her anymore. And who lives at 1223 Bakers Way? And the flagpole with the yellow flag and banner…
The decorative plate with a palm tree on it?

Are you trying to tell me Theodore is from South Carolina- the Palmetto state? Or from Florida? Grim reaper- got any relatives in South Carolina???

I Googled 1223 Bakers Way and it came up in three locations. One is in Manhattan, Kansas. Interesting segue, especially when the first few clues about Rox had her baking a pineapple upside down cake. How odd too- when I was a kid, that was my favorite kind! I even asked for it on my Birthday. How ‘bout you Charley? Want that for you Birthday cake?

See the kind of gifts I get from Charley? Always something, but always with the caveat of…
Figure it out, kiddo… figure it out!

Charley- you’re a funny guy. Afraid that if you give it all to me, I will walk away and we shall lose the contact? Never my friend- we are eternal now.