How to Fall Off a Cliff
A Novel
by
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"No. None for me." "None what? None of the sandwiches?" Shell asked him. "I don't want any of anything," he told Shell, pronouncing the words slowly, precisely. Ted reached for an ornate ashtray on a coffee table, from his sitting position. The object was made of heavy, clear glass with many round globs of colored glass melted into the center. Ted held it to the light radiating from the over-sized window. Then he spoke precisely again. "The fact is... the clear fact is... that you are fucking my wife." The words were spoken effortlessly, without emotion, in the quiet main room of the apartment, while soft sun rays were beginning to touch the carpet, on a peaceful Sunday afternoon. Softspoken words that they were, they sounded of a cannon fired, to Shell's ears, and he felt a sudden cold wrench of his intestines, or his stomach, and he nearly lost his water right there on the carpet, until he consciously tightened appropriate muscles. His face flushed, heated. "I don't know, Ted what you've --" "Just don't bother to say it is... not true," Ted continued in a controlled voice, while still he turned the fascinating glass piece toward the light again, closed one eye, but refrained from looking at Shell's face. "Goddam, Ted... I just don't know what to say." He swallowed, for his throat was dry as well as his lips. "Damn. You know I'm not trying to do anything to you personally. It... it's just one of those situations where... people aren't trying to --" "Yeah. And you know I could tear off your head just as easily as I can sit here... talking." He sighed, still not turning his face toward Shell. "Now, I know Marge is sexy for any guy to look at and in a way, just in a way, I don't blame you for trying to... to... Ted's words died in the sentence. "But, Shell, I'm telling you now that we can't ever be friends in the same way we were. I mean, I might see you now and then... but not like before..."
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About the Book
The common arena for the story is an upscale apartment cluster, Madrid Place, during four seasons in a Southwestern city where the first chapter begins, Kensy O'Brien, a naive newcomer, is found dead of an apartment suicide. The year is 1975. A large variety of tenants are described; Shell and Hunter, besides Kensy and Kathy, are the foremost characters. Shell Findley, a middle-aged playboy, runs with Hunter, an Osage Indian, of similar age and pursuits. There is description of striking Kensy's early years.Paul House, a conservative bachelor, lends contrast to his lively, sexy neighbors such as Brook, a lithe goddess, whom he adores covertly, but never reaches. A crude professional gambler is a resident who finally hits the Big One, then does not enjoy the riches when fate deals a power dive. Kathy Gonzales, a new resident, who decided to end her life earlier, conceals the step from new neighbors as she surveys romantic potential among the Madrid tenants.
About the Author
Jerry Zelinka, born in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1934, now resides with his wife, Suzanne, and a Turkish Angora cat, Happy, in new Canaan, Connecticut. He held positions as technical writer and editor for manufacturing firms in the Southwest, reported for United Press International, taught technical writing and English composition at Tulsa Junior College, and was consulting technical writer for Gumman Aerospace, and Sikorsky Aircraft Company. He received a Bachelor of Science degree in Journalism from University of Tulsa, and did Master's work in English Literature at Vermont College of Norwich University.