First Chapter: Reflections on the Boulevard by LJ Ambrosio #FirstChapter @authorlambrosio

Reflections on the Boulevard first chapter

Title: Reflections on the Boulevard
Author: LJ Ambrosio
Publisher: Film Valor
Pages: 238
Genre: Coming of Age / Fictional Buddy Adventure  

Michael’s story continues from A Reservoir Man (2022) where we find him teaching at a university ready to retire. He unexpectedly meets a young man named Ron who becomes his protege and journeys on a haphazard adventure with him throughout America and Europe, each twist and turn of the road bringing unexpected adventures. The journey taken is one of joy, friendship and discovery.  

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Reflections

Chapter One

It was one of those beautiful summer days in New York. Not hot, not humid, but not cool. A slight breeze silently flowing down the Hudson River momentarily. People were quietly entering the ferry, some aimless, some lost, a few secure in their position in life.

Michael, 65, tall with salt and pepper hair, gripped a book in one hand, a smart leather briefcase with the other. Contrary to the rest, he had a sense he did belong – somewhere else. The book was Marcel Proust's Remembrance of Things Past.

In search of the best view, he found a seat looking out at the river. The sun was reflected in the water, the birds landed on the railing of the boat. He was content. This was Michael’s everyday ritual, coming home from teaching at the university. He was so happy no one sat next to him on the bench; he was able to put his briefcase down. He would have loved a cigarette, but you cannot smoke anywhere today except for under your coat. How about a martini extra dry with two olives? Michael loved to dream of the impossible.

He opened his book, when suddenly a fight broke out between two very smartly dressed men. They did not even know why they were fighting; the police were avoided; the ferry left the dock. People were much more confrontational since the coronavirus epidemic, often harboring a strong edge. He was sure the two men wanted a martini as well.

As the ferry entered the river, one would barely know they were sailing. The breeze brushed against his face; he saw the water pass him just as life had. He looked at the stern of the ferry seeing all his relationships, career, and spirituality disappear in an endless stream of the river, moving them away but not forgotten. Michael felt as if the bow moving upriver was pushing towards his future with the thrust of a young man stealing second base.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a well-built, nice looking young man, nerdy, longish dirty blonde hair that either needed cutting or a ponytail. He was talking to himself, no, Michael thought, "he is talking on the phone.” But no, the young man was actually talking to himself, or a bird. Suddenly, the young man saw Michael and flashed a small smile.

“Oh no I have been here too many times; those moments are up the river," thought Michael. The young man approached Michael asking if he knew him.

“I could not imagine how," said Michael, in disbelief.

“Yes,” the young man said, “in the park near the university. You were always reading on that same bench. I remember when the pigeons shit on your book and once on your jacket; the whole bench was full of shit,” the young man said with a slight devilish smile.

“Right!” said Michael. “Are you getting off here?”

“In the middle of the river, how could I?”

“You could always try," said Michael, with a slight but cold smile.

The young man asked Michael his name.

“You first.”

“I’m Ron! Now what’s yours?”

“I will tell you later,” said Michael.

Michael suggested to the young man to have quiet time now and sit, Ron sat right next to Michael and put his hands in his own lap and said

“Sure.”

Michael and Ron took their journey to the other side of the river. Michael had sometimes imagined the boat taking him to the end of something, his own life maybe? Was it a boat on the river Styx? After a while, he realized they were back in Jersey, safe.

Ron could not help himself; he was bored, and his life had not yet reached a point of deep profundity. Everything for Ron was on the surface, and his energy always remained there, in your face. He asked Michael his name again.

“Too early, but soon,” said Michael, annoyed at being pulled back from his thoughts.

They arrived at the terminal, a place of bars and excitement. Ron was feeling that energy; he was anxious to join it all. He caught up with Michael who had moved as quickly as possible towards the parking lot to his car. Ron caught up but seemed winded.

“How about a drink, friend?”

“No, they cannot mix drinks well here,” answered Michael, annoyed.

Michael wanted him to leave. They were near the parking lot now, his escape. Ron was walking behind Michael like a baby duck, unsure of his every step, following Michael like he was his father. Finally, they arrived at Michael’s car.

Michael asked, “Where is your car?”"I took the bus. Could you give me a lift home?” Ron stared at Michael’s car, nodding as if saying “nice car” in guy language. It was not that nice, a simple sedan but it was better than Ron’s ride on a bus.

“Maybe you can take the bus home,” Michael said firmly, nodding back.

“I have no more money. I bought a Coke and a sandwich at the terminal in New York.”

“Well, here is some money.” “No, I want to drive with you.” “Why?”

“I want to know how a man could sit on the same bench twice a week while birds shit near or on him.”

Michael looked at Ron and smiled. It was not a smile he had worn for a long time; it was different. Off they went.

About LJ Ambrosio

L.J. Ambrosio

 Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. He taught at over 7 universities in America. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.

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Reflections on the Boulevard 13


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