[Glenn Wright]

Mr. Chester

*

The wind complained like a fussy child, blowing the last few leaves off the sycamores clustered in the backyard. Paul Mortenson tried again to concentrate on reading the student essay in front of him, but he couldn’t focus. The house was stuffy; his coffee was cold. Maybe a walk with the dog would clear his head. It was pleasantly cool outside, and Cassie, his Labrador, pulled eagerly on the leash. They made a circuit of the neighborhood and had almost returned home as the rain clouds threatened.

Paul’s next door neighbor, Mr. Chester, was carrying his folding lawn chair and plastic table into his shed before the wind could steal them. Paul wasn’t sure if Chester was his neighbor’s first or last name. He was friendly enough, and though not shy, he was nevertheless disinclined to make small talk. A year and a half earlier in May, Paul and his wife had decided to downsize. They sold the large house where they had raised their children and bought a much smaller one next door to Mr. Chester. They hosted a barbecue for their new neighbors, and Paul had gone around the neighborhood, introducing himself, inviting them to the gathering. His first stop had been Mr. Chester, who was sitting on his front porch in the same folding chair he had just put away for the winter. He didn’t have a second chair to offer Paul, but he stood up, shook hands politely, and nodded as Paul introduced himself, thanking him when Paul gave him a card with the date and time of the barbecue, but failing to provide Paul with his name. At his next stop, Paul asked the woman who answered the door the name of the old gentleman who was sitting on his porch. The little girl hanging onto her apron spoke up, “That’s Mr. Chester.”

Mr. Chester had not come to the barbecue. Over the next few months, Paul had seen him occasionally working in his yard, mowing, trimming, raking, or hauling his trash bin to the street. He moved slowly and seemed always to be in some pain, but managed to keep his tiny house in good repair. Paul guessed that he was somewhere in his seventies, but would not have been surprised to learn that he was in his early eighties. Not long after the barbecue, Mr. Chester bought two cords of firewood for the coming winter. The boys who delivered the wood dumped it at the end of his driveway. Paul had gone over with his wheelbarrow and helped Mr. Chester stack the wood under an overhang on the side of his house. Afterward, Mr. Chester thanked Paul, but had not invited him in or offered him anything to drink.

Now, passing Mr. Chester’s house with his dog, Paul reflected that he had never seen a visitor at Mr. Chester’s house. Had he been married? Was he a widower? Did he have any adult children? Paul wondered about these things out of concern for Mr. Chester’s well-being, but his curiosity quickly dissipated in the daylight of his own problems and challenges. Paul waved half-heartedly, but the old man didn’t seem to see him and hobbled up to his front door, shutting it softly behind him.

A haiku by Matsuo Basho suddenly came into Paul’s head:

Deep autumn—
my neighbor,
how does he live, I wonder?

Paul spoke the poem aloud, pondering it, as English teachers are inclined to do. Who is my neighbor? None of us really knows his neighbors these days. Few of us live near our immediate families. Who goes to church these days? We aren’t forced to depend on our neighbors as we once were. Our children are born in hospitals; our old people go to assisted living facilities and finally to hospices to die. We hire strangers to perform all the duties that used to be the responsibility of family and friends. Neighbors are just people who accidentally live close to us. Paul thought about the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

Was the haiku supposed to show the concern of one neighbor for another as winter approached? Was “deep autumn” a metaphor for the advanced age of the neighbor? Or is the speaker concerned for himself? With the difficulty of surviving the coming winter, is the speaker curious to find out how the neighbor is planning to provide for himself? Is the neighbor the ant to the speaker, who is the grasshopper? Or is it the other way round? We live shoulder to shoulder, but light years apart. Do good fences make good neighbors? These questions gathered in Paul’s mind like rain clouds as he walked.

A rabbit darted from some bushes and the slack leash went taut as Cassie tried to spring after it. Paul’s reverie interrupted, he gathered his jacket around him, pulled on Cassie’s leash, and felt a fat raindrop splash on his head. He made it home just before the heavens opened up.

* *

A week later the first snowstorm of winter arrived early, covering the unraked leaves in Paul’s backyard with three inches of clean whiteness. Paul asked his wife, Susan, if they could invite Mr. Chester for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Fine with me, but do you think he’ll come?”

“Probably not, but who knows? I worry about him sometimes. He’s so old and alone.”

Susan smiled. “Go ahead and ask him. It’ll be just us, the Ackermans, and him. Can you think of a nice older woman we could invite who might sweep him off his feet?”

“I don’t even know if he likes women. We really don’t know anything about him.”

“We’ll, when you invite him, be sure to ask if he wants us to fix him up with a woman or a man.”

“I think that service is above our pay grade.”

Paul had noticed in recent months that Mr. Chester no longer drove his car. The old Chevy sedan had not moved since late summer, and while Paul was taking a break from grading papers, looking out the window next to the kitchen table, he noticed a box of groceries being delivered to Mr. Chester. Paul wondered idly how Mr. Chester got to and from his doctor appointments, assuming he had them, and whether he had any human companionship. Resolving to be a better neighbor to Mr. Chester, Paul slogged through the slush and puddles and rang Mr. Chester’s doorbell. Only after another ringing of the doorbell and some knocking did the door finally open.

“Hello, Mr. Chester. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“No, not at all.” Mr. Chester stepped out onto the porch and shut the front door behind him. “I was just resting and I must have fallen asleep. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you would like to join us for Thanksgiving dinner, if you don’t already have plans.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you. I’d be delighted to join you. Can I bring anything?”

“No, please!” Paul as surprised at how readily Mr. Chester accepted the invitation. “Just bring yourself. Come on over around 4:00, or earlier if you’d like to watch football with us.”

“I’ll be there at 4:00. Thank you very much. Good evening.” Without another word he slipped through his front door and disappeared like a clam into his shell.

Susan was as surprised as Paul at Mr. Chester’s willingness to join them. He arrived promptly at 4:00, dressed in a suit, bearing a bottle of wine and a box of Belgian chocolates. The Ackermans had arrived earlier and had been watching football with the Mortensons, drinking beer out of the bottle and snacking on Buffalo wings and nachos. Paul, in jeans and a Packers jersey, fearing that Mr. Chester might feel awkward at being overdressed, commented that he was glad that someone was showing proper respect for the American holiday. Susan shot Paul a look that told him to shut up and not make it worse. Mr. Chester showed no awkwardness, though, and throughout the evening showed a comfortable and agreeable grace, although he spoke little.

Wanting to include Mr. Chester in the after dinner conversation, Susan asked, “Where are you from originally, Mr. Chester?”

“I’m from New England—Milton, Massachusetts.”

“That’s where I grew up!” Paul was shocked to discover that Mr. Chester and he were from the same small town.

“I haven’t been back for many years. I’ve lived here for over thirty years.” Sonething in Mr. Chester’s manner told Paul that this was an uncomfortable topic for him, so Paul shifted the conversation to predicting his favorite football team’s chances of getting to the Super Bowl.

At the end of the evening, as Mr. Chester prepared to leave, Paul casually mentioned that he would be happy to help out if he ever needed a lift to a doctor’s appointment. Mr. Chester thanked Paul and seemed deeply touched.

* * *

Over the next year, Paul noticed an acceleration in Mr. Chester’s physical decline. Paul checked on him at least twice a day, and was sometimes shocked to notice a sudden deterioration from one day to the next. Mr. Chester rarely visited the doctor except to get renewals of the prescription for his pain pills. When fall came around again, it was clear that Mr Chester would not see another spring. He remained in bed almost constantly, and was able only with great effort to get to the bathroom and to eat a little food. Finally, he told Paul his story.

“I told you I was from Milton, Paul, but I didn’t tell you that I knew your father.”

“My father? He died a long time ago.”

“John Mortenson was my best friend. My name is Joseph Winchester.”

Paul remembered the name. Uncle Joe. He had been a frequent visitor in his home when Paul was a child. Paul remembered going on fishing trips with his dad and Uncle Joe. Paul remembered that in the middle of a time of turmoil, when Paul’s sister had died, Uncle Joe disappeared. One day he was like a member of the Mortenson family. The next, he was gone and his name was not mentioned again.

“Uncle Joe? What happened to you? Why did you go away?”

The old man stared up at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts, perhaps praying. A shudder passed through him. “Your sister had a medical condition that was going to cause her death. She needed an operation, but it would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Your family’s medical plan would not cover it. They said it was experimental surgery.” Paul knew that his sister, Amy, had been born with a malformation of her heart and aorta. “I helped your father get the money for the operation. I’m only sorry that Amy passed away in spite of the surgery.”

“You paid for Amy’s operation?”

“Not exactly. Your father and I worked together at an investment firm in Boston. We figured out a way to steal the money from the firm.” Paul felt a quick zing of anger. His father had been a respected manager at a Boston investment firm until his death. He had never been suspected of wrongdoing. “It was at a time when the company was investing in diverse, volatile markets. We were able to replace the money with gains we made from other accounts. No one suspected anything until a couple of years later when an audit uncovered some irregularities. We had deleted some information that would have incriminated us, but the company knew it had been robbed. I made sure all the suspicion fell on me. Your dad had a family. I didn’t. The company could never prove anything, but my career in finance was effectively over. I told your father to cut all connection with me so he would not attract suspicion. I moved here and started over.”

Paul thought about his father. He had changed drastically after Amy’s death and Uncle Joe’s disappearance. He had become quiet and depressed. Although his death three years later was officially listed as accidental, there had been an inquest for suicide. The life insurance had been paid out. Paul had been able to afford college, and their mother now lived comfortably in Boston with her second husband.

Paul looked at Mr. Chester, or Uncle Joe, seeing the dying shell that he was preparing to discard. Paul wondered how Mr. Chester’s soul would be judged. Paul wasn’t sure if he believed in God, but he definitely believed in final judgment. Mr. Chester lay on the bed, still staring at the ceiling, but calmer. Paul did not feel inclined to assign him any blame. But, oddly, neither did Paul feel any gratitude for Mr. Chester’s sacrifice in trying to save his sister. He would stay with Mr. Chester, checking on him twice a day until he finished dying, helping him to the bathroom, fixing him something to eat. Paul owed him a debt, but with his death, it would be paid and their lives would be disentangled.

Mr. Chester had not asked Paul to keep his secret, but Paul would do so. He would never tell his mother or even Susan about what Mr. Chester had done. It took only two weeks. One afternoon, after school, Paul came to tend to Mr. Chester. As he heated up some soup at the stove, he looked out the window and saw a mob of waxwings descend on the mountain ash tree, devouring the red berries and, in a flash, whirling up into the sky. When he brought the soup to Mr. Chester, he was gone.
————————
Edits:
§1: . . .to concentrate on the student essay. . . >. . . to concentrate on reading the student essay. . .
His wife had left an hour earlier to run some errands. > Delete.
Maybe a walk would clear his head. > Maybe a walk with the dog would clear his head. It was pleasantly cool outside, and Cassie, his Labrador, pulled eagerly on the leash. They made a circuit of the neighborhood and had almost returned home as the rain clouds threatened.
§2: He put on the water repellent jacket his wife had given him for his birthday last month. Cassie, his Labrador, was already at the door waiting for him to snap on her leash. Paul thought he could finish his walk before the rain started and decided not to take an umbrella, which would be more of a nuisance than a help in a stiff wind. As he stepped out onto his front porch, a gust of wind slapped his cheeks and ruffled his hair. . . .excited by a mixture of interesting smells. > Delete.
§2: He was friendly enough, but not disposed to idle chatter. > he was friendly enough, and though not shy, he was nevertheless disinclined to make small talk.
If Paul had not had Cassie with him, he would have gone over to help the old man, but Mr. Chester was almost done, and seemed able to manage by himself. > Delete.
Paul wasn’t sure if Chester was his first or last name. > Paul wasn’t sure if Chester was his neighbor’s fires or last name.
. . .the much smaller house. . . > . . .a much smaller one. . .
. . .to the people who answered their doorbells or who happened to be outside, . . .> Delete.
§3: . . .relatively fit. . . > . . .early . . .
Mr. Chester had two cords of firewood delivered to dry > Mr. Chester bought two cords of firewood
§4: Paul reflected that he had never seen a woman or a visitor > Paul reflected that he had never seen a visitor
§7: . . .dawning. . . > Delete.
. . .supposed to be. . . > Delete.
These thoughts, questions, and associations gathered in Paul’s mind as he walked. > These questions gathered in Paul’s mind like rain clouds as he walked.
§23: His comments were limited to expressing how good the food was and how much he enjoyed their company. > Delete.
§26: Paul felt an almost electric shock. > Delete.
Paul could hardly believe that. . . > Paul was shocked to discover that. . .
“My sister Amy and her husband still live there.” > Delete.
§28: . . . and seemed touched almost to tears. > . . .and seemed deeply touched.
§29: . . .feeling the end coming, . . .> Delete.
§33: . . .been desperately I’ll, . . .> . . .died, . . .
§35: It had been a very difficult time for Paul’s family. > Delete.
It was surgically repaired around the time that Uncle Joe disappeared.
I’m only sorry that Amy passed away in spite of the surgery.
§37: . . .ethical. . . > Delete.
. . .key. . . > Delete.
wife and children > family
I didn’t know John had died until you told me. > Delete.
§38: surgery > death
and Amy > Delete.
So much in Paul’s life that had been mysterious was now clear. > Delete.
§39: He did not feel guilt for what he had done, nor did Paul. . . > Paul did not. . .
saving > trying to save
§40: Amy > Delete.

[Richard G]

Hi Glenn.


The wind complained like a fussy child,
............... nice start
blowing the last few leaves off the sycamores clustered in the backyard. Paul Mortenson tried again to concentrate on the student essay in front of him, but he could not focus. The house was stuffy; his coffee was cold. His wife had left an hour earlier to run some errands. Maybe a walk would clear his head.
............... what does the wife have to do with his inability to focus?

He put on the water repellent jacket his wife had given him for his birthday last month. Cassie, his Labrador, was already at the door, waiting for him to snap on her leash. Paul thought he could finish his walk before the rain started and decided not to take an umbrella, which would be more of a nuisance than a help in a stiff wind. As he stepped out onto his front porch, a gust of wind slapped his cheeks and ruffled his hair. It was pleasantly cool, and Cassie pulled eagerly on her leash, excited by a mixture of interesting smells. ............. if you added 'with the dog' to the final line of P1 you could cut this entirely.

Paul’s next door neighbor, Mr. Chester, was carrying his folding lawn chair and plastic table into his shed before the wind could steal them. If Paul had not had Cassie with him, he would have gone over to help the old man, but Mr. Chester as almost done and seemed able to manage by himself.
............... don't understand 'seemed' or why MC would need help (old isn't really conveying much.)
Typo 'Mr. Chester was almost done'

Paul wasn’t sure if Chester was his first or last name. He
....... He is ambiguous, could be Paul or MC, why not "The man was friendly ..."
was friendly enough, but not disposed to idle chatter. A year and a half earlier in May, Paul and his wife had decided to downsize. They sold the large house where they had raised their children and bought the much smaller house [one] next door to Mr. Chester. They hosted a barbecue for their new neighbors, and Paul had gone around the neighborhood, introducing himself to the people who answered their doorbells or who happened to be outside, inviting them to the gathering. His first stop had been Mr. Chester, who was sitting on his front porch in the same folding chair he had just put away for the winter. He didn’t have a second chair to offer Paul, but he stood up, shook hands politely, and nodded as Paul introduced himself, thanking him when Paul gave him a [and took the proffered] card with the date and time of the barbecue, but failing to provide Paul with his name. At his next stop, Paul asked the woman who answered the door the name of the old gentleman who was sitting on his porch. The little girl hanging onto her apron spoke up, “That’s Mr. Chester.”
............... Started to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the repetition. How many doors, neighbours or Pauls or Chesters do you need? Why not try introducing something new? For instance, instead of
"and bought the much smaller house next door to Mr. Chester." (We already now who lives next door) Why not
"and brought the much smaller house in location"? (You could even mention how far it is from Milton, Mass)
Mr. Chester had not come to the barbecue. Over the next few months, Paul had seen him occasionally working in his yard, mowing, trimming, raking, or hauling his trash bin to the street. He moved slowly and seemed always to be in some pain, but managed to keep his tiny house in good repair. Paul guessed that he was somewhere in his seventies, but would not have been surprised to learn that he was in his relatively fit eighties. Not long after the barbecue, Mr. Chester had two cords of firewood delivered to dry for the coming winter. The boys who delivered the wood dumped it at the end of his driveway. Paul had gone over with his wheelbarrow and helped Mr. Chester stack the wood under an overhang on the side of his house. Afterward, Mr. Chester thanked Paul, but had not invited him in or offered him anything to drink.

Now, passing Mr. Chester’s house with his dog, Paul reflected that he had never seen a woman or visitor at Mr. Chester’s house.
............... 'a woman or visitor'? Why not just
"had never seen anyone visiting ..." ?
Had he been married? Was he a widower? Did he have any adult children? Paul wondered about these things out of concern for Mr. Chester’s well-being, but his curiosity quickly dissipated in the daylight of his own problems and challenges. Paul waved half-heartedly, but the old man didn’t seem to see him and hobbled up to his front door, shutting it softly behind him.
............... Establishing how 'shallow' Paul is? His apparent concern about MC's well-being lasting, what? A minute?

A haiku by Matsumoto Basho suddenly came into Paul’s head:
Deep autumn—
my neighbor,
how does he live, I wonder?

Paul spoke the poem aloud, pondering it, as English teachers are inclined to do. “My neighbor” Who is my neighbor? None of us really knows his neighbors these days. Few of us live near our immediate families. Who goes to church these days? We aren’t forced to depend on our neighbors as we once were. Our children are born in hospitals; our old people go to assisted living facilities and finally to hospices to die. We hire strangers to perform all the duties that used to be the responsibility of family and friends. Neighbors are just people who accidentally live close to us. Paul thought about the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
............... It feels like you're over-explaining, and given how indifferent Paul is to the 'sacrifice' MC later reveals, it feels like an academic exercise, nothing emotional about it.
Was the haiku supposed to show the dawning concern of one neighbor for another as winter approached? Was “deep autumn” supposed to be a metaphor for the advanced age of the neighbor? Or is the speaker concerned for himself? With the difficulty of surviving the coming winter, is the speaker curious to find out how the neighbor is planning to provide for himself? Is the neighbor the ant to the speaker, who is the grasshopper? Or is it the other way round? We live shoulder to shoulder, but light years apart. Do good fences make good neighbors? These thoughts, questions, and associations gathered in Paul’s mind as he walked.

A rabbit darted from some bushes and the slack leash went taut as Cassie tried to spring after it. Paul’s reverie interrupted, he gathered his jacket around him, pulled on Cassie’s leash, and felt a fat raindrop splash on his head. He made it home just before the heavens opened up.
............... adds nothing to the story.
* *

A week later the first snowstorm of winter arrived early, covering the unarmed leaves in Paul’s
............... weren't the leave from the sycamores?
backyard with three inches of clean whiteness. Paul asked his wife, Susan, if they could invite Mr. Chester for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Fine with me, but do you think he’ll come?”

“Probably not, but who knows? I worry about him sometimes. He’s so old and alone.”
............... This seems to be wildly overstating what P does.

Susan smiled. “Go ahead and ask him. It’ll be just us, the Ackermans, and him. Can you think of a nice older woman we could invite who might sweep him off his feet?”

“I don’t even know if he likes women. We really don’t know anything about him.”

“We’ll, when you invite him, be sure to ask if he wants us to fix him up with a woman or a man.”

“I think that service is above our pay grade.”
............... I wonder if you need any of this exchange? It adds nothing (narratively, there no new information about MC or Paul.)

Paul had noticed in recent months that Mr. Chester no longer drove his car. The old Chevy sedan had not moved since late summer, and while Paul was taking a break from grading papers, looking out the window next to the kitchen table, he noticed a box of groceries being delivered to Mr. Chester. Paul wondered idly how Mr. Chester got to and from his doctor appointments, assuming he had them, and whether he had any human companionship. Resolving to be a better neighbor to Mr. Chester,
............... I think you can cut this too. That he has to ring twice suggests a decrease in mobility and the 'I must have fallen asleep' excuse is sufficiently transparent.
Paul slogged through the slush and puddles and rang Mr. Chester’s doorbell. Only after another ringing of the doorbell and some knocking did the door finally open.

“Hello, Mr. Chester. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“No, not at all.” Mr. Chester stepped out onto the porch and shut the front door behind him. “I was just resting and I must have fallen asleep. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you would like to join us for Thanksgiving dinner, if you don’t already have plans.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you. I’d be delighted to join you. Can I bring anything?”

“No, please!” Paul as surprised at how readily Mr. Chester accepted the invitation. “Just bring yourself. Come on over around 4:00, or earlier if you’d like to watch football with us.”
............... Typo "Paul was surprised ..."
“I’ll be there at 4:00. Thank you very much. Good evening.” Without another word he slipped through his front door and disappeared like a clam into his shell.
............... Fairly pointless metaphor.

Susan was as surprised as Paul at Mr. Chester’s willingness to join them. He arrived promptly at 4:00, dressed in a suit,
............... is 'suit' supposed to tell us something? If so why not describe it?
bearing a bottle of wine and a box of Belgian chocolates. The Ackermans had arrived earlier and had been watching football with the Mortenson, drinking beer out of the bottle and snacking on Buffalo wings and nachos. Paul, in jeans and a Packers jersey, fearing that Mr. Chester might feel awkward at being overdressed, commented that he was glad that someone was showing proper respect for the American holiday. Susan shot Paul a look that told him to shut up and not make it worse. Mr. Chester showed no awkwardness, though, and throughout the evening showed a comfortable and agreeable grace, although he spoke little. His comments were limited to expressing how good the food was and how much he enjoyed their company.

Wanting to include Mr. Chester in the after dinner conversation, Susan asked, “Where are you from originally, Mr. Chester?”

“I’m from New England—Milton, Massachusetts.”

Paul felt an almost electric shock. “That’s where I grew up!” Paul could hardly believe that Mr. Chester and he were from the same small town. “My sister, Amy, and her husband still live there.”

“I haven’t been back for many years. I’ve lived here for over thirty years.” Sonething in Mr. Chester’s manner told Paul that this was an uncomfortable topic for him, so Paul shifted the conversation to predicting his favorite football team’s chances of getting to the Super Bowl.

At the end of the evening, as Mr. Chester prepared to leave, Paul casually mentioned that he would be happy to help out if he ever needed a lift to a doctor’s appointment. Mr. Chester thanked Paul and seemed touched almost to tears.
............... "almost to tears" seems to be over-egging the pudding.

* * *

Over the next year, Paul noticed an acceleration in Mr. Chester’s physical decline. Paul checked on him at least twice a day, and was sometimes shocked to notice a sudden deterioration from one day to the next. Mr. Chester rarely visited the doctor except to get renewals of the prescription for his pain pills. When fall came around again, it was clear that Mr Chester would not see another spring. He remained in bed almost constantly, and was able only with great effort to get to the bathroom and to eat a little food. Finally, feeling the end coming, he told Paul his story.
............... I think you could tighten this up with something like,
"I don't think I'll be coming for Thanksgiving again, Paul," Mr. Chester struggled to sit up in bed, "but if you have a moment there's something I'd like to tell you."

Paul brought the chair from the dressing table closer to the bad and sat down.
"Of course, please."

“I told you I was from Milton, Paul, but I didn’t tell you that I knew your father.”

“My father? He died a long time ago.”
............... there must be something better than this? Unless it leads to

"I know, and I always regret not being able to attend the funeral. John Mortenson was ..."

“John Mortenson was my best friend. My name is Joseph Winchester.”

Paul remembered the name. Uncle Joe. He had been a frequent visitor in his home when Paul was a child. Paul remembered going on fishing trips with his dad and Uncle Joe. Paul remembered that in the middle of a time of turmoil, when Paul,is sister had been desperately ill, Uncle Joe disappeared. One day he was like a member of the Mortenson family. The next, he was gone and his name was not mentioned again.

“Uncle Joe? What happened to you? Why did you go away?”

The old man stared up at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts, perhaps praying. A shudder passed through him. “Your sister had a medical condition that was going to cause her death. She needed an operation, but it would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Your family’s medical plan would not cover it. They said it was experimental surgery.” Paul knew that his sister, Amy, had a malformation of her heart and aorta. She had had it surgically repaired around the same time that Uncle Joe had disappeared [he now realised]. It had been a very difficult time for Paul’s family. “I helped your father get the money for the operation.”

“You paid for Amy’s operation?”

“Not exactly. Your father and I worked together at an investment firm in Boston. We figured out a way to steal the money from the firm.” Paul felt a quick zing of anger. His father had been a respected manager at a Boston investment firm until his death. He had never been suspected of ethical wrongdoing. “It was at a time when the company was investing in diverse, volatile markets. We were able to replace the money with gains we made from other accounts. No one suspected anything until a couple of years later when an audit uncovered some irregularities. We had deleted some key information that would have incriminated us, but the company knew it had been robbed. I made sure all the suspicion fell on me. Your dad had a wife and children. I didn’t. The company could never prove anything, but my career in finance was effectively over. I told your father to cut all connection with me so he would not attract suspicion. I moved here and started over. I didn’t know John had died until you told me.”
............... Didn't believe this last bit. Too much grand conspiracy.
Paul thought about his father. He had changed drastically after Amy’s surgery and Uncle Joe’s disappearance. He had become quiet and depressed. Although his death three years later was officially listed as accidental, there had been an inquest for suicide. The life insurance had been paid out. Paul and Amy had been able to afford college, and their mother now lived comfortably in Boston with her second husband. So much in Paul’s life that had been mysterious was now clear.
............... the last sentence is pretty bad. And the whole paragraph seems to lack any emotional weight.
Paul looked at Mr. Chester, or Uncle Joe, seeing the dying shell that he was preparing to discard. Paul wondered how Mr. Chester’s soul would be judged. Paul wasn’t sure if he believed in God, but he definitely believed in final judgment. Mr. Chester lay on the bed, still staring at the ceiling, but calmer. He did not feel guilt for what he had done e, nor did Paul feel inclined to assign him any blame.
............... 'blame' for what? Being a good Samaritan?
But, oddly, neither did Paul feel any gratitude for Mr. Chester’s sacrifice in saving his sister. He would stay with Mr. Chester, checking on him twice a day until he finished dying, helping him to the bathroom, fixing him something to ear. Paul owed him a debt, but with his death, it would be paid and their lives would be disentangled.
............... This paragraph makes me wonder what was the point of this story. Nobody cares, nothing changes
Mr. Chester had not asked Paul to keep his secret, but Paul would do so. He would never tell Amy, his mother, or even Susan about what Mr. Chester had done. It took only two weeks. One afternoon, after school, Paul came to tend to Mr. Chester. As he heated up some soup at the stove, he looked out the window and saw a flash mob of waxwings descend on the mountain ash tree, devouring the red berries and, in a flash, whirling up into the sky. When he brought the soup to Mr. Chester, he was gone.
............... and this just explains what 'be disentangled' means.

My take is that a character learns that someone sacrificed to save his sister (and his father/family) that, as a consequence, there may have been reasons for his father to commit suicide and concludes 'Meh!' and goes on with his life as if nothing had happened.

RG.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Richard—

Thanks very much for the detailed, thorough critique of my story. It was very useful, especially in helping me to streamline the opening and get into the events more quickly. I will go through it again in a day or two with an eye to minimizing repetitions.

I don’t think I effectively made my point about neighbors’ responsibilities to each other. Paul takes on the task of being a neighbor to Mr. Chester, but when he discovers the sacrifice that Mr. Chester made in being a neighbor to his family, he is deeply conflicted. Paul knows that Mr. Chester saved his sister’s life, but at the price of abandoning Paul and possibly hastening John Mortenson’s death. The story is meant to show that even when we perform the kindest acts with the most altruistic of motives, we can also cause harm by entangling our lives with others’. It is possible that by returning to Mr. Chester’s life and forcing him to consider the effects of his actions, Paul caused stress that precipitated Mr. Chester’s sudden decline. I wanted the reader to appreciate the messiness of involvement in the lives of other people and our inability to know with certainty what the effects of our most well-meant involvement might be.

I appreciate your generosity and help in polishing this piece.

Glenn

[Richard G]

Hi Glenn.

Paul takes on the task of being a neighbor to Mr. Chester,
- Is that in the same way that MC took on the 'task' of saving his best friend's daughter?
- But why does he? What is his motivation?
"Resolving to be a better neighbor"
"Paul casually mentioned that he would be happy to help out"
It's all 'what' but not 'why'.

Paul knows that Mr. Chester saved his sister’s life, but at the price of abandoning Paul
- there's no real mention of a relationship between the two. MC was the father's best friend (we're told) but simply calling someone 'Uncle Joe' doesn't make for a deep relationship. And being 'like one of the family' mean that much when you look at Paul's indifference to his sister's illness.
and possibly hastening John Mortenson’s death.
- How? Whatever JM did he did as an adult, and, presumably, was motivated by saving his daughter. One might have thought the joy of that outweighed the sadness of what he lost. But apparently not.

The story is meant to show that even when we perform the kindest acts with the most altruistic of motives, we can also cause harm by entangling our lives with others’.
- IF MC did any harm, which I don't see (and nor does Paul) he did it by 'disentangling'.

It is possible that by returning to Mr. Chester’s life and forcing him to consider the effects of his actions,
- What effects? The girl was saved. He knew he was sacrificing the friendship (though that seems vastly overblown. All JM had to do was wait a couple of years, quit his job, move the family to where MC is and start over. Killing himself, having just saved his child, simply doesn't ring true. And what kind of 'hiding' is it when all you do is drop the first syllable of your name? The greatest risk he faced was being blackballed from the industry, hardly the end of the world - especially when compared with the possible loss of his child.)

Paul caused stress that precipitated Mr. Chester’s sudden decline.
- what stress?
I wanted the reader to appreciate the messiness of involvement in the lives of other people and our inability to know with certainty what the effects of our most well-meant involvement might be.
But your central character doesn't really care.
"nor did Paul feel inclined to assign him any blame."
"neither did Paul feel any gratitude for Mr. Chester’s sacrifice in saving his sister."
If he is indifferent why shouldn't I be the same? And who thinks that they know, with certainty, what will happen?

"He would never tell Amy, his mother, or even Susan about what Mr. Chester had done."
If he'd not done anything blameworthy how is it a secret to be kept? And why deny Amy a chance to meet/say thank you to someone who had saved her life?

[Max Goodman]

This view of Mr. Chester holds my interest. The Thanksgiving scene is nicely handled.

It's awkward to set up a surprise at the same time as the story springs it. That Mr. Chester was involved with Paul's father and his sister and her illness, might feel more meaningful if I weren't learning about them at the same time as I learned of his involvement.

The POV keeps us so firmly seeing Mr. Chester only through Paul's eyes that the two times it slides us closer, it jars. We're told Mr. Chester doesn't feel guilt, and earlier we get half a paragraph, a lot which doesn't feel like Paul's POV: "Mr. Chester rarely visited the doctor except to get renewals of the prescription for his pain pills. ... He remained in bed almost constantly, and was able only with great effort to get to the bathroom and to eat a little food. Finally, feeling the end coming,"

FWIW.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Richard and Max—

Thank you both, gentlemen, for your useful thoughts on my story.

Richard—Thanks for investing so much time and well-considered thought to your critiques. Your continuing responses are very helpful.

Originally Posted by Richard G

Paul takes on the task of being a neighbor to Mr. Chester,
- Is that in the same way that MC took on the 'task' of saving his best friend's daughter?
- But why does he? What is his motivation?
"Resolving to be a better neighbor"
"Paul casually mentioned that he would be happy to help out"
It's all 'what' but not 'why'.
I had wanted to present Paul as an affable man who takes on Mr. Chester as a “project.” Having lost his own father at a young age, he may understandably seek friendship with and approval of an older man. He also wants to be a good neighbor. But Mr. Chester rebuffs his overtures at first, withholding his name, not going to the barbecue, and failing to invite him in after Paul helps him with the firewood because he knows who Paul is and does not want to reveal his secret. Nevertheless, Paul persists.

Paul knows that Mr. Chester saved his sister’s life, but at the price of abandoning Paul
- there's no real mention of a relationship between the two. MC was the father's best friend (we're told) but simply calling someone 'Uncle Joe' doesn't make for a deep relationship. And being 'like one of the family' mean that much when you look at Paul's indifference to his sister's illness.
and possibly hastening John Mortenson’s death.
- How? Whatever JM did he did as an adult, and, presumably, was motivated by saving his daughter. One might have thought the joy of that outweighed the sadness of what he lost. But apparently not.
When he learns Mr. Chester’s identity, fairly or unfairly, Paul holds him at least partly responsible for his father’s decline and death. He is not indifferent, but rather, he has mixed feelings. He feels indebted to Mr. Chester but on another level he resents his participation in the embezzlement. We probably all feel that Paul’s father had to save his daughter at any cost, but the theft of hundreds of thousands of dollars could have resulted in a long jail term and disgrace. Paul’s father was unable to handle his guilt or fear of discovery. We don’t know if he committed suicide, but more importantly for the story, Paul seems to think he did and that Mr. Chester contributed to it.

The story is meant to show that even when we perform the kindest acts with the most altruistic of motives, we can also cause harm by entangling our lives with others’.
- IF MC did any harm, which I don't see (and nor does Paul) he did it by 'disentangling'.
Paul begins the story wanting to entangle his life with Mr. Chester’s. At the end, he sees that such entanglement is risky and can cause unwanted consequences.


It is possible that by returning to Mr. Chester’s life and forcing him to consider the effects of his actions,
- What effects? The girl was saved. He knew he was sacrificing the friendship (though that seems vastly overblown. All JM had to do was wait a couple of years, quit his job, move the family to where MC is and start over. Killing himself, having just saved his child, simply doesn't ring true. And what kind of 'hiding' is it when all you do is drop the first syllable of your name? The greatest risk he faced was being blackballed from the industry, hardly the end of the world - especially when compared with the possible loss of his child.)
You have given me the idea that my theme about neighbors and entanglement would be much clearer if Amy had died in spite of the expensive and heroic medical intervention. That would, perhaps, give Paul’s father a much more plausible reason to slip into a possibly suicidal depression, but would also give Paul a much clearer motivation for his resentment of Mr. Chester’s well-intended, altruistic, but criminal and meddling “entanglement” with his family.

Paul caused stress that precipitated Mr. Chester’s sudden decline.
- what stress?
I wanted the reader to appreciate the messiness of involvement in the lives of other people and our inability to know with certainty what the effects of our most well-meant involvement might be.
But your central character doesn't really care.
"nor did Paul feel inclined to assign him any blame."
"neither did Paul feel any gratitude for Mr. Chester’s sacrifice in saving his sister."
If he is indifferent why shouldn't I be the same? And who thinks that they know, with certainty, what will happen?
This is also solved by having Amy die.

"He would never tell Amy, his mother, or even Susan about what Mr. Chester had done."
If he'd not done anything blameworthy how is it a secret to be kept? And why deny Amy a chance to meet/say thank you to someone who had saved her life?
Also solved by Amy’s death.

Max—Your comment on the N drifting away from a strictly limited single character third person POV was very helpful. I left §29 mostly unchanged because I felt that Paul would reasonably be expected to know that information since he checks on him twice a day. I edited out “feeling the end coming” in §29 and “He did not feel guilt for what he had done” in §39 because those two phrases refer to thoughts in Mr. Chester’s mind that Paul would not have access to. Good catch.

I appreciate your help, gentlemen. Sincerest thanks!

Glenn

[Matt Q]

Hi Glenn,

I enjoyed the story. I find the ambiguity interesting. Paul seems to have views on neighbourliness, and these cause him to help his elderly neighbour. But it’s not completely clear if he does this out of compassion, or out of a sense of duty – at first out of his sense of what he thinks neighbours should do, and then later in the light of a perceived debt. It’s interesting, I think, that Paul also believes in a final judgement, but not, perhaps, in a loving God.

Mr Chester, on the other hand, seems to have performed an act of great kindness and sacrifice for his friend, Paul’s father, and for his friend’s dying daughter, Paul’s sister. But not by performing an action that is expected by convention. Still, Chester seems to exemplify the friend-being-involved-and-helping-out that Paul seems to value and thinks lacking in the modern world. And yet Paul feels no gratitude for Chester’s sacrifice.

It’s also the case, of course, the actions of Chester and Paul’s father have consequences. The daughter still dies. And the father later kills himself. Perhaps this wouldn’t have happened if they’d not stolen the money. Chester would have still been around to support Paul’s family in the face of the bereavement. Paul’s father, dealing only with his daughter’s death and not the additional loss of his close friend, and presumably also possible guilt at the theft and at what has happened to his friend (disgrace, uprooting) as a consequence, might have survived.

There are complexities here, and I like that there’s no clear moral here either. Or at least, not on my reading.

Critique-wise, I think there’s sometimes scope for tightening sentences and paragraphs and avoiding stock phrasing.

Paul Mortenson tried again to concentrate on the student essay in front of him

Maybe "tried to concentrate on marking the student essay" (or do you say "grading"?). Just so it's clear Paul is not a student trying to concentrate on his own essay. Alternatively maybe just "student's essay" would show it's not his.

Paul wasn’t sure if Chester was his neighbor’s first or last name.

Does this means the little girl is the only person who Paul ever hears speak Mr Chester's name? That struck me as odd. At the barbeque, with all his other neighbours, is the man is never mentioned, does Paul not ask? If the other neighbours refer to him as “Mr Chester”, why does Paul doubt that his is correct? Or do the other neighbours just refer to him as "Chester", or say that they are also unclear as to whether this is a first or last name?

He was friendly enough, but not disposed to idle chatter.

Would giving your name come under the heading of "idle chatter"? Also “not disposed to idle chatter” comes across as something of stock phase. Was he disposed to chatter as long as it wasn’t idle? Maybe there’s a more accurate way to say what you want to say here?


Paul guessed that he was somewhere in his seventies, but would not have been surprised to learn that he was in his relatively fit eighties.

There's something that seems a bit clumsy to me about the wording of "in his relatively fit eighties". I also wonder why "relatively" -- relative to what? I wonder if you need the bit about him being possibly a fit octogenarian anyway. Are you saying that, from his fitness and how he moves, Paul thinks Chester is in his seventies, but from his appearance, he looks like he might be in his eighties?

Now, passing Mr. Chester’s house with his dog, Paul reflected that he had never seen a visitor at Mr. Chester’s house. Had he been married? Was he a widower? Did he have any adult children? Paul wondered about these things out of concern for Mr. Chester’s well-being, but his curiosity quickly dissipated in the daylight of his own problems and challenges. Paul waved half-heartedly, but the old man didn’t seem to see him and hobbled up to his front door, shutting it softly behind him.


I'm wondering if Chester being outside his house needs to be mentioned sooner in this paragraph. In the first sentence maybe. As this is currently structured I imagine Paul seeing only Chester's house. But it turns out he's not just passing Chester's house, he's passing Chester himself, who is in the front yard, or walking up his own pathway.

Additionally, how long does it take him to walk past Chester’s house? Because in that time he wonders about various things, then his curiosity dissipates, then he waves at Chester. That’s a lot happening in what might be 30 seconds at most.

You might reorder this paragraph:

Now, passing Mr. Chester’s house with his dog, he saw the old man in his front yard. Paul waved half-heartedly, but Mr Chester didn’t seem to see him and hobbled up to his front door, shutting it softly behind him. Paul reflected that he had never seen a visitor at Mr. Chester’s house. Had he been married? Was he a widower? Did he have any adult children? Paul wondered about these things out of concern for Mr. Chester’s well-being, but his curiosity quickly dissipated in the daylight of his own problems and challenges.

This way it's clear from the start where Chester is, and Paul he has as much time as he likes to wonder.

Paul spoke the poem aloud, pondering it, as English teachers are inclined to do. Who is my neighbor? None of us really knows his neighbors these days. Few of us live near our immediate families. Who goes to church these days? We aren’t forced to depend on our neighbors as we once were. Our children are born in hospitals; our old people go to assisted living facilities and finally to hospices to die. We hire strangers to perform all the duties that used to be the responsibility of family and friends. Neighbors are just people who accidentally live close to us. Paul thought about the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

While this purports to be about how little we know our neighbours these days, it's actually far more about the decline of the involvement of family and extended family, which seems a little odd.

I'd say it also goes on a bit too long and could be tightened. I don't think you need all these thoughts.

Also, I'd say that our neighbours don't accidentally live next to us. Or at least, to me that sounds strange. Maybe, "Neighbors are just people who just happen to live close to us"

Was the haiku supposed to show the dawning concern of one neighbor for another as winter approached? Was “deep autumn” supposed to be a metaphor for the advanced age of the neighbor? Or is the speaker concerned for himself? With the difficulty of surviving the coming winter, is the speaker curious to find out how the neighbor is planning to provide for himself? Is the neighbor the ant to the speaker, who is the grasshopper? Or is it the other way round? We live shoulder to shoulder, but light years apart. Do good fences make good neighbors? These thoughts, questions, and associations gathered in Paul’s mind as he walked.

Again I think this could be tighter. There are too many questions I think. And you could tighten the wording too. For example, "to show the dawning concern", and "Was “deep autumn” supposed to be a metaphor", “With the difficulty of surviving the coming winter is the speaker curious to find out how the neighbor is planning to provide for himself? “ (the coming winter has already been mentioned, so the context is clear here). I’d consider losing the “good fences” bit as it seems to go against the grain of his wonderings.

I'd also say the last sentence is unnecessary, we know that these are thoughts, questions and associations, and we know that they are in his mind. All that we really learn is that he's walking, which we’ve already been told previously. And listing "thoughts, questions, and associations" seems like overkill. Just "questions" would cover it.

He had never been suspected of ethical wrongdoing.

I’d lose “ethical”. What other sort of wrongdoing might he have been suspected of? If you need a modifier, maybe "financial" is more accurate?

We had deleted some key information that would have incriminated us

“key information” is somewhat of stock phrase. Plus “key” is entirely implied. Info that would have incriminated them is -- in terms of covering their tracks -- absolutely key. Plus, they didn’t delete “some” of it, presumably, but all of it, otherwise they’d have been caught. I’d just go with “deleted the information” or ("any information" or "all information").

best,

Matt

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Matt—

Thanks very much for your thorough and insightful analysis. Your suggestions on tightening and streamlining the text are extremely helpful and I will use many of them. It is surprising to me how when a reader points out a redundant, superfluous, or irrelevant use of language, my response is almost always, “Well, of course! Why didn’t I see that before?”

I’m glad you enjoyed the story and appreciate your generous and useful help.

Glenn