\n\n\n\n
Martin Seward\u2019s soujourn in the country is about to take an unexpected turn for the better, at least for those last golden, sunlit days of summer. However, the fateful intersection of his cousin Alicia and his neighbor Dacron Redstone will eventually lead to consequences that can only be described as disastrous. At least if you have no sense of humor. Bartelme\u2019s comical account of life with the summer people will make you wonder if that country house is really worth it and just how much have things changed since F. S. Fitzgerald wrote The Great Gatsby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201c<\/em>What Giorgio Vasari accomplished with his Lives of Artists in 1550, Kevin Bartelme has done for the geniuses of the present day in \u2018Redstone\u2019. But Bartelme\u2019s book is much funnier.\u201d \u2014 Robert Grossman <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAll art is a scandal. Life tries to be. I succeed. Kevin Bartelme comes very close.\u201d I woke from a dream the next morning where I was being led by Megan Fillywell through a battlefield that looked something like Matthew Brady\u2019s photographs of Gettysburg or Bull Run except in color. Among the mangled dead were Dacron Redstone, Pedro Barbez, and Fuzzwick Offenfusser. Megan led me out of this scene of carnage up a hill to a high plateau with eternal sunshine and pushed me over the edge of the cliff. I woke in a cold sweat just before I hit the rocks below. Only kidding. Actually, I slept like a baby and I don\u2019t think I dreamed anything at all. AUTHOR<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kevin Bartelme ISBN:978-1887276597 \u2022 $ 14.95 Martin Seward\u2019s soujourn in the country is about to take an unexpected turn for the better, at least for those last golden, sunlit days […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":392,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[218,83,84,100,109],"tags":[161,162,163],"class_list":["post-5934","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-coolgrove-press-imprint","category-fiction","category-humor","category-kevin-bartelme","category-paperback","tag-art-movements-nyc","tag-the-great-gatsby","tag-the-hamptons","post-design-default"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/TheGreatRedstoneLR-ds.png?fit=1025%2C1024&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9wWvk-1xI","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5934","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5934"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5934\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9121,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5934\/revisions\/9121"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/392"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5934"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5934"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/coolgrove.com\/books\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5934"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\u2014 Taylor Mead<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n
CHAPTER THREE<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course, I couldn\u2019t call Redstone to tell him his piece was finished. I\u2019d have to wait at least a week so it wouldn\u2019t look like I was completely ripping him off. Now that I was solvent beyond all expectations, my dilemma was whether or not to continue with my other onerous chore. Buddha was bad enough, but Jesus? Well, Jesus! I am a procrastinator by nature and decided to let things lie awhile and, for the moment at least, avoid some unpleasant confrontation with my patroness.
I drove into town and bought the newspaper and a corn muffin. Having nothing to do and not even having to feel guilty about not writing I decided to go for a drive out to the point. There was nobody there but a few surfcasters working the rocky beach beneath the lighthouse. I sat down on a bench overlooking the ocean and watched the few sailboats bobbing around in the morning sunlight. There was virtually no wind so they weren\u2019t making much progress. Suddenly, a candy apple red speedboat roared into view heading east. The driver paid no attention whatsoever to the sailboats, violating their right of way with impunity and sending up a rooster tail of spume as he sped off into the distance.
I returned to my house a little while later and turned on the answering machine. \u201cMartin, it\u2019s Alicia. Please call me when you get this message.\u201d Now, frankly, I didn\u2019t want to speak to my cousin right at that moment. Her demands on my time, though not yet excessive, showed every sign of becoming tiresome.
The next message was from the far more urgent Sheridan March. \u201cReally, Martin you must call me right away. We have so much to discuss.\u201d I suppose we did. I reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed her number in the city.
\u201cOh, there you are,\u201d she said excitedly when she answered the phone. \u201cDid you get my message about changing Buddha to Jesus?\u201d
\u201cAh, yes, I did\u2026\u201d
\u201cWell, forget it. Back to plan A.\u201d
\u201cDon\u2019t you mean plan B?\u201d I joked. She didn\u2019t get it.
\u201cNo, I mean back to Buddha. I just had a long meeting with a very important Tibetan rimpoche who was very enlightening. He told me the Buddha had this sort of twelve step program to achieve your financial goals and he agreed to reveal the secret if I was willing to make a donation to the Dalai Lama. Isn\u2019t that fabulous?\u201d
I had to admit it was, but not the way she meant it. \u201cListen, Sheridan, I\u2019m not sure I\u2019m really the guy for this job\u2026\u201d
\u201cOf course you are! You\u2019re just having a crisis of faith in your own abilities,\u201d she admonished me. \u201cYou just have to empty your mind of all the conflicts you\u2019re having and let the Buddha be your guide to success and security. I don\u2019t mean to interfere, but you\u2019ve got to listen to a little bit of my Mother Bear wisdom! All you need is to get motivated! What\u2019s the problem, Martin? Money?\u201d
\u201cNot exactly.\u201d
\u201cI knew it!\u201d she brayed triumphantly. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you what I\u2019m going to do. I\u2019m going to give you incentive! I\u2019m going to give you another five thousand dollars! But you\u2019ve got to deliver, Martin. I want to see pages, I want to see progress! I know you won\u2019t let me down.\u201d
I was at a complete loss for words but it didn\u2019t matter. She had already hung up. I would have to submit my resignation by mail. But then, maybe I\u2019d just go ahead and do the silly woman\u2019s bidding. I could use an extra five thousand bucks. I went outside and walked up to the main house where I could see the Sulema steaming into the harbor and heading for her berth at the marina. I wondered if Harry Poon were on board.
\u201cAhoy there, mate!\u201d Redstone called out from the woods. He had a way of sneaking up behind you and making you jump.
\u201cHello there,\u201d I said.
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you come over for lunch and we can shoot the breeze,\u201d he jovially suggested.
Why not? I was soon seated at the long table in the main room where the all too recognizable work of Derek Schnoigel towered to the ceiling, all pieces of broken glass and rocks affixed to a huge canvas and painted over with abstract abandon.
\u201cWhat would you like to eat?\u201d said Redstone. \u201cWe have lobster, soft shell crabs, steak, whatever you like.\u201d
It\u2019s not often that someone invites you to lunch and hands you a menu. \u201cHow about the soft shell crabs?\u201d I said.
\u201cExcellent choice. I think I\u2019ll have them myself. Perhaps you\u2019d like a very dry white wine with that. I bottle it myself at my vineyard in California.\u201d
Now let me tell you something about Redstone\u2019s tone of voice. Everything he says, no matter how insignificant, comes off as the boasting of someone not quite sure of himself, possessing an unfathomable sense of displacement which must be covered up with proud bluster.
\u201cSo, what\u2019s new, sport?\u201d
I thought he was talking about his report to the bond firm. \u201cWell, I\u2019ve only just started working on\u2026\u201d
\u201cNo, no, that can wait for another day,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat I want to know is what\u2019s up in your life? I suppose you have friends out here.\u201d
\u201cNot really,\u201d I said. \u201cWell, there\u2019s my cousin, of course.\u201d
\u201cGood, good, great to have family around you. Don\u2019t have any myself.\u201d
I didn\u2019t know whether to commiserate or tell him how lucky he was.
\u201cBut I don\u2019t let it get me down,\u201d he continued, \u201cbecause my dreams are actually more important to me than real people.\u201d
I was curious. \u201cSo what do you dream about?\u201d
\u201cOh, all kinds of things. Mostly the future.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nKevin BartelmeKevin Bartelme lives and works in New York City. He is the author of O\u2019Rourke: another slopsink chronicle <\/em>and The Great Wall of New York<\/em>, and his latest, The Great Redstone<\/em>, all published by Cool Grove Press. He is currently putting together a collection of short stories.<\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n\n\n\n ![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/coolgrove.com\/press\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/05\/Kevin-author-photo.png?resize=360%2C300&ssl=1\")