Bzzzz.  Bzzzz.  Bzzzz.  I left my phone on vibrate.  Normally I set to normal ring tone when it is charging, because it is also my alarm clock.  Tonight I didn’t — I didn’t want to wake up too easily in the morning.  I rolled over and checked who it was from.  Restricted.  Great.

So I thought about it, through the fog of waking and sleeping, I considered who could it be that is calling me at 1:09 am in the morning.  I have some friends, when they call from their phones it is always restricted.  On the last ring I answered.

“Hello?” My voice was tired, sleepy, barely making it through.

“Is he there with you right now?  Is Pedro there with you?” came a slightly effeminate male voice.

“I’m sorry? I…”

“Pedro!  Is my boyfriend there with you right now?  Where is he?  Is he there?”

I rubbed my eyes and sat up.  ”I’m very sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong number sir.”  My customer service-trained instincts kicked in, and I noticed it after I said the sir.  I shook my head at the thought.  ”I really don’t…”

“PEDRO!” He cut me off.  I could tell that he was slurring a little. “I found your number on his phone and I want to know what you are doing with him!”

Great.  A drunk-dial.  ”I really wish I could help.  Sorry, but I really don’t know who you are talking abo..”

Click.  Well, not a click, just the absence of a click one hears when a cell line goes dead.  Like a light subliminal buzz that goes away, or white noise that just disappears.

Poor fellow.  I’ve been there, in the middle of the night, crying my eyes out over a woman that just walked out on me just hours after she promised she wasn’t seeing anyone else and I was hers forever.  I know the heartache, the inability to breathe, the hurt that it causes.

Sleep eluded me the rest of the night.  I tossed and turned, and finally I just took the laptop out and began to work on my NGAN — Next Great American Novel.  So far it is titled “The Samurai and the Poet.”  Since living in Japan I have come to love all things Japanese, especially the nature of the Samurai.  The basic story is that boy meets girl, boy works for girl, girl is betrayed by a third player, which in turn betrays the boy, boy is captured, never loses faith, escapes and is triumphant in freeing girl and they live happily ever after on a great big pile of gold.

So far I’ve written the boy’s history and family dynamics, and I am at the point that I will be writing the introduction of the girl.  I decided to sleep on it and had a very vivid dream involving my samurai protecting someone as one of his duties, and he took on three assailants of various degrees.  In the battle, his family sword was broken, but he still overcame and used the pieces of his sword as two weapons.  Cool dream too.

The girl is the poet in the story.  For as long as anyone can remember, she can only speak in poetic form.  The only problem is that no one can understand her fully.  The imagery she uses can be interpreted many different ways and if someone is paying attention she can foretell the future.

The other aspect I have been working on in my head is another main character — an ex-football jock that has turned mercenary when he was disgraced by illegal drug use.  He was never famous to begin with, but he is the leader of the group that hires the samurai to help them fight.

Three men will also turn up from time to time in the story.  Everyday men, just normal guys.  One is the past, the other is the present, and the third is the future.  They will convey their portions of the story and set background for events through the use of newspaper or when they are playing cards, or talking about things they heard on the radio.  Past will talk about how things were, Future will talk about how things will be, and the present lives in the now and complains about the current event.  These three will talk freely with Poet, because they clearly understand her — whenever she speaks she speaks of the past, present, and future all at the same time.

The Samurai wears a business suit almost all the time in the story.  Occasionally he will be in something more casual, such as a pair of simple cotton slacks and a white t-shirt, or business casual shirt.  Rarely will he carry his family sword and later in the story he will loan it to a museum for safe keeping on display.  His family wealth already secured, he focuses solely on the family business and in continuing the tradition of his fathers.