How to use Howie in a sentence
Martha's aunt, Howie's mother, called and practically begged her to let him fly out for a couple of days.
Howie was about to become Father Abbott, a Catholic priest when a drunk in a half million dollar motor home broadsided him.
Howie doesn't remember any details of his prior life; family; studying for the priest hood, college... a blank slate and he can't find the chalk.
Howie's father died while he was in the coma.
When Howie was released from the hospital, Rose took him in.Advertisement
Howie lived with them for a few months but they eased him into an apartment nearby.
I get the hint this Ronnie and Howie don't dance to the same fiddle player.
Howie doesn't have to work but he still suffers from head trauma, is pretty depressed and frankly, doesn't know what to do with himself.
If Howie was stunned he didn't show it as he pulled off his toupee with a smile.
The left side of Howie's head was absent hair and a series of three dark scars were visible.Advertisement
Martha kept up a steady stream of reminiscences; I'm sure for Howie's benefit.
Howie put his knuckles to the side of his head and closed his eyes.
The rest of us were spiraling toward bankruptcy when Howie turned to Martha.
Annie was Howie's little sister.
Betsy was safe with a nine and I thought my four bought me cot until Howie's snake eyes saved me.Advertisement
I'm sure neither Quinn nor Martha is surprised and Howie is probably asleep.
A little later I heard Howie shuffling back downstairs.
Howie was nowhere in sight.
It's so nice not to listen to police sirens and taxies honking their horns but I'm afraid we might have woken Howie up earlier.
From the porch we could see the huddled figure of Howie Abbott sitting under a large red umbrella on the edge of the pier.Advertisement
Howie, what in hell are you doing?
While the rest of us breathed a sigh of relief, Howie remained uncomfortable.
I savored it, but my concern for Howie remained.
You know, Howie, I've given some thought to your flying saucer analogy.
I'm worried about Howie but I don't know what to do.Advertisement
I just hate to see Howie suffering; especially after all he's gone through.
Howie, who had remained silent, stepped forward.
Howie took a deep breath and began.
Howie shook his head.
Howie, I'm sorry if this vision was disturbing, but it's really interesting.Advertisement
I'm sure Howie didn't snack on what I'm growing!
What happened to Howie was no ordinary dream, just as he said.
Betsy turned to Howie.
What does Howie have to do with ironing clothes and reaping hay?
Howie can have our bed.Advertisement
She turned to Howie.
Perhaps something that happened to Howie in there and his past is resurrecting these visions!
We all believe you, Howie.
Howie nodded but said nothing.
Howie started to say something but changed his mind, interested to hear everyone's opinion.Advertisement
I caught Quinn nodding in agreement, but not Howie.
It should be Howie's choice if he wants to take this matter forward.
Howie began to pace.
Howie, anything said here stays here.
I lay there several minutes after I awoke and thought about what Howie experienced.Advertisement
Quinn reacted as we'd grown to expect but Howie's visions became our afternoon project.
Howie turned to Betsy.
The first was a list for Howie.
While Betsy was dead serious, it remained a game in everyone else's mind except Howie.
I was left sitting on my hands until the appointed hour of Howie's nap before Betsy assigned me the chore of remaining in the small room while he slept.Advertisement
As Betsy and I climbed the stairs to the lab room, Howie laughed nervously.
Howie and I entered the room and closed the door.
Howie shot up to a sitting position.
The phone was in the kitchen and we gave Howie privacy.
The longer Howie spoke on the phone, the more I felt guilty that we were manipulating him into a parlor game at the expense of his privacy.
Howie continued, as animated as a kindergartener at show and tell.
Howie closed his eyes.
Howie showed no signs of the anxiety he displayed on round one but his eagerness kept him awake.
Martha, a come-lately convert to our experiment, offered to fix Howie a hot chocolate in hopes it would induce a snooze.
The two women went below to prepare the cocoa, leaving Howie and me in the darkened lab.
Once Howie succumbed to slumber, his sleep was anything but peaceful.
Howie woke with a start.
Howie kept us in suspense until we assumed our seats around the table.
Howie took a deep breath.
In her brief absence I described how Howie squirmed and twisted while sleeping.
He's run it all summer, Martha said, handing Howie a glass.
She looked to Howie to continue.
In the meantime Betsy interrogated Howie relentlessly about any remembered details.
When Howie ran dry, we began discussing reasonable explanations for what he was seeing.
Granted, that's a step in the right direction but we still wouldn't know if the scene Howie saw actually occurred.
Howie gave a token protest but agreed.
Betsy shared Howie's disappointment but she put on a good face.
Think of the possibilities if by the remote chance Howie is envisioning the past!
If Howie drops into ten or twenty minutes of anyone's life, chance are all he sees is them picking their nose, reading a book or working.
Howie and I were relegated to shucking more corn and cutting up strawberries on the covered front porch as we watched the rain continue to fall.
Howie was quiet for several minutes as we finished our chores.
I'm sure he meant well, but his lecture wasn't what Howie, and to a lesser extent Betsy, wanted to hear.
We assumed our now familiar positions with Howie changed into pajamas and robe.
Howie extinguished the light, went directly to the small bed and turned to the wall.
I related Howie's comment about not letting go.
Howie was seated at the table while Quinn and Martha performed kitchen duty with eggs and bacon.
A shake of Howie's head denoted no strange encounters of the weird kind.
Martha would drive Howie to Boston's Logan Airport for his flight back to California while Quinn would remain to pack up his equipment before leaving later for a hundred mile drive to their home in nearby Peabody, Mass.
Howie made a special note of thanking everyone for going along with his dream obsession, apologizing for hogging our time.
A few minutes later, I spotted Howie and Betsy in a hushed conversation.
Something made me think I wasn't finished with Howie Abbott.
Annie was my friend, not Howie.
Howie only came to New Hampshire a couple of times.
Howie has no recollection and his mother won't even discuss the subject.
Howie was supposed to be looking after his sister.
Did you see Howie after his sister died?
Thank heaven Howie doesn't remember.
How old was Howie?
A damned good thing Howie doesn't remember.
Two weeks passed and I'd put Howie Abbott from my mind when Betsy called one evening as I heated a frozen dinner in my lonely apartment.
It surprised me to learn Betsy was actively working on Howie's dreams.
Howie doesn't have a clue so I thought I'd help him out.
Is Howie going to take this business further?
But if Brockville is just like Howie described, we have to get Quinn and Howie on the same page.
After all, Howie and Betsy were apparently committed.
Might Howie be faking this business?
Betsy was knee deep in meetings through the dinner hour so I was designated to baby sit Howie.
Howie asked about my job and confessed he was spending far too much time doing nothing.
Howie paid for our meal.
Betsy chatted away while Howie, as nervous as a groom, simply listened.
We were forced to stop on three different occasions as Howie, a back seat passenger, became frequently nauseous.
Howie bounded out of the car and crossed to the newer side of the street where he had a better view of the few older buildings that remained.
Howie moved forward for a better view.
After leaving the town, we drove around the surrounding countryside in hopes Howie my spot one of the scenes of his other visions.
Howie's hand shook as he raised his coffee cup.
Neither Howie nor I really know him.
My acquiescence lightened the mood for the remainder of the trip as Betsy and Howie chatted as if future sessions were a faite accompli.
We dropped Howie off at his hotel as he gushed his thanks.
I first spoke to Martha, while not fully committed; I knew she was more sympathetic to Howie than her husband.
I emphasized how strongly Howie felt about resurrecting his sessions.
Quinn will think were requesting something like a séance or spiritual encounter but if we don't humor Howie, he'll be devastated.
I look at it this way; something is going on in Howie's head.
Could the fact that Howie's brain waves are somehow different after his lengthy coma and all the operations he endured be effected by what you were doing?
That couldn't happen in Howie's case.
We assumed Howie would beg for the five of us to be in attendance.
While Betsy and I shared one bedroom and the LeBlanc's the other, Howie was stuck on the living room sofa.
It seemed to me we were all on edge, especially Howie who, aside from a smile and a few words, stayed out of our limited conversations.
Due to the closeness of the neighbors, I was fearful of noise causing Howie problems.
If I thought Howie might have difficulty napping, I was dead wrong.
We spent the next hour quizzing Howie to try and determine the location he "visited" with Martha taking copious notes while the questions flew.
Howie remained silent during verbal our exchange, looking form one of us to the other, content to let us orchestrate the production.
This time, Howie struggled to get to sleep.
Martha brewed coffee for us and hot chocolate for Howie.
Howie jumped on Betsy, startling us.
Howie thought he recognized the Chicago skyline in the distance but it was too far away to tell.
Howie visited a suburban home in Orange County, Indiana and pegged the date by an open newspaper.
The strain of our activities was wearing on everyone, especially Howie.
I assumed we'd discuss our latest findings but Howie, ever hyper in the secrecy department, disallowed any mention our activities in public.
Could Howie really see scenes from the past?
Howie continued to look to us for direction while remaining adamant we exclude so much as mention of what we were doing to anyone outside our group.
A last minute invitation was given to Howie.
Howie was to remain in Massachusetts, at least for a few more days, working with Quinn and Martha.
Howie, ever hyper about the security of our endeavors, forbid our even discussing any interim results by phone, thereby leaving us in the dark.
Betsy located the families Howie saw in our last session.
Howie was due within the hour so only Quinn and Martha met us at the door.
I promised Howie I wouldn't update you both until he arrived but I have to warn you, things are beginning to get tense.
I was uncorking a second bottle when Howie arrived.
It's been tough on Howie.
We're had poor Howie in thirty-two sessions since you're been here so Quinn's developed cross references.
Howie wanted to wait until we were all together.
We waited until Howie continued.
It's Howie's mind so it's his choice.
Quinn started to speak but Howie interrupted him.
Howie relaxed a little.
Howie directed the four of us to go someplace nearby, inside or outside, and not divulge the location.
A few hours later, Quinn would set the power source to the time and location, not informing Howie.
Howie left for his apartment shortly after we'd agreed to conduct his proposed test.
Howie was as excited as us once we could transport him more precisely.
When Howie is unable to verify what we do perhaps he'll let us investigate what's causing his mind to create these fantasies.
It was a beautiful morning and there was plenty of time to kill as Howie wasn't schedule to return to the house until late afternoon.
Howie arrived as scheduled.
Betsy turned on a tape recorder as Howie reclined on the bed, turning away from us.
At first I couldn't understand Howie's mumble but then it became clearer.
Howie continued to tell all of us exactly what we did, relating our deeds and writings with absolute perfection.
Quinn had written a random series of thirty numbers and letters which Howie repeated in a bored voice.
I don't know what to say, Howie.
Howie yelled, jumping from his seat.
Howie followed them, muttering he needed a distraction.
Betsy was pointing at the television as Martha and Howie came into the room.
Betsy looked at Howie beseechingly.
I'd not told my wife about Howie's sister Annie's abduction and murder.
Neither Martha nor I knew what details Howie knew of the event.
Howie looked to Martha.
Betsy's look repeated her plea while we all remained silent, looking to Howie.
Without a word, Howie crossed to the basement stairs, with Quinn close behind.
Why don't you stay with Howie?
We forbade ourselves to even discuss our impetuous actions for fear of disturbing Howie so all we could do is cross our fingers and pray.
It took fifty minutes before the door burst open and Howie dashed out and up the stairs with Martha close on his heels.
The rest of us followed and we could hear Howie retching in the bathroom.
As soon as Howie emerged from the basement we all hurried into the living room and stood around, expectantly.
What we heard shocked us as Howie began to speak.
Howie described a car parked with an open trunk on the far side of the fence.
Howie described the car, license plate, and man in exacting detail.
Howie was a total wreck and I'm sure neither Quinn nor I was much better.
I mean, we're siccing the police after someone Howie saw in... a vision, for God's sake!
Howie was bewildered, leaving everything in our hands.
Howie just smiled knowingly.
Howie, you're a hero.
Howie looked terrible as he poured a cup of coffee.
The rest of us looked to Howie, all of us wondering what roads we'd travel forward.
There are scads of missing children, out there, Howie.
Howie couldn't do anything about it; it happened two weeks ago.
You didn't just save little Timothy, Howie.
What is it exactly you want to do, Howie?
Howie, you, Quinn and Martha worked together without us.
Both Quinn and Howie protested as one with a negative shout.
How can we be sure Howie is always right?
Under Martha's soothing, near hypnotizing voice, Howie fell asleep quickly.
The farm house area was unlighted and as still as a tomb according to Howie.
Howie obtained a full description of the man and his vehicle and the license plate number.
Then Howie stunned us.
Howie had difficulty locating the apartment and nothing untoward occurred before he was awoken by the sound of a horn, seventeen minutes later.
Somehow, between her and Martha, Quinn and Howie agreed to run a trip back while we remained in New York in phone contact.
Howie didn't like the arrangement but realized we couldn't commute back and forth every weekend and maintain a life.
Howie remained intransigent in restricting his gift to the rescue children.
The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced of the incredible scope of Howie's gift.
While Howie, between his brain damage, operations and lengthy coma created a rare combination of mental soup, could we say with any certainty that his ability was absolutely unique to him?
You know Howie didn't want to do it.
My husband did a lot of work fixing the settings on when Annie died and kept pushing Howie.
I don't know what, if anything, Howie saw but he knew Quinn tricked him and he went ballistic.
Other sessions were tried earlier but when Howie couldn't sleep, Quinn accused him of not working hard enough Martha said.
That got me pissed off and Quinn accused me of always taking Howie's side.
No, this was pillow talk with Quinn but Howie knows something is wrong.
Then Howie asked if we'd try to run a session this weekend, long distance, by phone.
Howie offered little and without seeing his facial reaction, I couldn't tell how he stood.
Finally, Howie was able to connect with a recently abducted little girl in Alabama.
Later, Howie failed to locate a nebulously described address.
A Cleveland mother had reported an infant child was taken from his crib while napping yet when Howie was able to enter the location before and during the alleged time, there was no sign of the child.
We weren't sure what to do or even if we should report Howie's feelings.
Howie was unable to remain sleeping long enough for any success on his last attempt.
Howie was able to follow her to a vehicle and relate the plate number!
I can't sleep thinking how we're wasting this incredible gift Howie has.
It was so heart wrenching to Martha she insisted Howie try more than once, in an effort to succeed.
Howie continued to be limited to about fifteen minutes or less each time.
It was particularly difficult for Howie to remain in a silent darkened room without waking back to real time.
Howie had nearly reached his limit when he heard someone enter the room!
According to Martha who remained with Howie, he thrashed about the bed, frightening her.
He reached a dark van and left, without lights before Howie could make out a plate number.
As long as Quinn could place Howie in the past, we'd do everything in our power to support the effort.
While our employment hampered our work with Howie, we all recognized our need to continue our day to day lives.
As inconvenient as it would be, Betsy and I would continue to travel north each weekend, flying at Howie's expense.
Quinn handles the power and Howie is our focus.
Betsy is great at research and Martha works with Howie, assembles the tips and can deliver them.
Howie was the first to speak.
Howie was a natural born follower and damaged goods.
I'm talking about Howie's reaction to witnessing a crime being committed.
I was especially concerned that Howie have outside interests.
Martha was playing nurse maid to both Howie's limitations and his fragile ego while struggling with morning sickness and her stressful hospital position.
I knew he desperately wanted to pursue Howie's never-before-encountered ability as far as it would go.
What Howie has is off the 'ucking charts and I'm now part of it!
It's Howie's head so it's his choice but the machines, are mine exclusively.
Howie had watched her abduction after several attempts, but failed to capture the license plate number.
It frustrated to Betsy who spent hours on the Internet seeking the most effective uses of Howie's talent.
The LeBlanc's had picked up Howie at his Boston apartment so the car was packed tightly.
Howie remained frightened and unconvinced.
He turned to Howie who nodded his ascent.
We had two runaways in a row followed by a location Howie couldn't find and a wake-up interruption from outside noise.
From Howie's standpoint it was easy.
Howie, now able to usually remain with a vehicle, stayed with the car to a suburban ranch style house only six miles from the kidnapping.
Our last session on the day ended on a sad note that was very distressing to Howie.
A missing girl fell through the ice and drowned while Howie helplessly watched.
Howie wouldn't discuss the matter but we could only guess how he felt.
We were picked up by Martha and arrived just as Quinn and who'd ferried Howie pulled in behind us.
Howie insisted we rent a car at his expense.
What we're accomplishing with Howie is vital; we can't stop doing it.
Howie had taken to picking at his fingers when the tension built.
Howie would first go back to earlier in the day and document precise activities of the director; we hoped they'd be sufficient for him to believe our abilities.
It was early morning when Howie first intruded.
Lady luck intervened when the director removed a twenty dollar bill from his wallet for a tip for the maid and Howie was able to record the bill number.
Betsy and Howie remained with me, each trying to out-nervous the other.
I ignored his question and began to list all Howie had seen during his uninvited visit.
Howie's first two sessions were failures.
Howie broke out in a sweat when he thought about actually witnessing a killing.
I despised my employment and Howie was unemployed.
Betsy suggested Howie should pay a visit to Mr. Merrill Cooms.
Quinn set Howie up for late the prior afternoon at Mr. Cooms' home.
On Saturday morning Howie spoke up as we gathered for coffee.
While I remained eager to discuss the conversation, I couldn't disagree with Howie's logic.
The crime was eerily reminiscent of the Delaware kidnapping case where Howie was unsuccessful.
Howie and I waited turns in the living room.
While Howie was joyous that the kidnapper might be apprehended, he remained shaken by having watched the abduction.
With Howie, that was a lengthy conversation.
Maybe there's a place with a college so Howie can continue his studies.
What do you think of all this, Howie?
I have the least rewarding job of any of us so my desires are directed to family and this mind boggling venture Howie is taking us on.
Of course I'd continue to help Howie as much as he needs.
We stumbled into an incredible gift that was bestowed on Howie and we couldn't live with ourselves or look at one another if we didn't embrace everything in our power to maximize its benefits.
Howie was visibly upset.
Howie surprised us all by buying a fairly large home north west of town on the Old Walpole Road.
Unfortunately, we didn't learn of the murder until a week after it occurred, making it impossible for Howie to "witness" the scene.
I decided to pick Daniel Brennan's brains on the matter Howie's sister Annie's abduction.
We constantly longed to follow up on our endeavors and make sure what Howie discovered was brought to a positive conclusion.
Howie located a Salt Lake City missing girl of twelve, hidden in the loving care of a distant aunt.
We knew the young girl was in trouble shortly after she left her house, with Howie following closely behind her.
Howie spotted Cummings picking up Jennie Lohr as she hitchhiked to town from her rural Kansas farm.
Howie immediately awoke; not wishing to witness what he knew would follow.
Quinn was in charge of the downstairs room where Howie operated and he set it up flawlessly for our work.
No sound disturbed Howie and with Martha able to use her special hypnotic-like tone, little time was wasted inducing Howie's sleep state.
Not only were we rewarded by the success of Howie's activities but our new personal situations were blissful.
While Howie hadn't viewed the show, he was incensed at the man's attitude as described by Martha.
But Howie wouldn't let it go.
This statement further incensed Howie.
While none of us opted for involvement, Howie's insistence was the first time he hadn't acted like a tethered toddler.
Finally, Howie reluctantly agreed to wait a couple of days and see how the situation played out.
However, with Howie's credibility questioned, I felt we were compelled to revisit the issue.
If we thought Howie was upset over the Youngblood matter, it was arsenic versus ice cream compared to how enraged he was over a challenge to his ability.
It was the first time in months Quinn would attempt to position Howie back more than a day or two.
Fortunately, Howie was familiar with Chicago.
Howie simply wanted to see who was in the assigned hotel room sometime during the weekend.
Howie's record was thirty-four minutes but he felt he could extend this if needed.
Quinn's settings placed Howie within a block and a half of the hotel.
Howie followed the imposter to the dining room where he dined alone.
Howie stayed with him through most of an uneventful meal before waking back to the present.
How could we prove what Howie had seen?
Maybe now Youngblood would stay out of the news and Howie would back off insisting we take action to stop him.
While we kidded about selling Howie out for a million buck reward, the increased outside interest in our activities was a serious matter.
Howie and Quinn remained the oil and water of our association although there was no mention of Martha's teenage indiscretion that had caused so much early turmoil.
The scientist in Quinn yearned for answers and it was killing him that Howie was obdurate about limiting his gift.
But Howie's abilities were wholly dependent on Quinn and his apparatus.
Quinn, absent Howie, was just another low level scientist.
I knew Betsy viewed scores of non-abduction cases, any of which Howie could solve in a minute.
Howie enrolled at Keene State College.
I told her Howie hadn't yet arrived at the office, but she seemed to know.
We're just co-workers and Howie deserves his personal life.
Howie is his own person.
Yes, Howie is... high strung.
You're going to tell us Howie isn't a virgin anymore, aren't you?
While I suppose we were pleased Howie was moving on, we dreaded the possible ramifications.
I broached the subject of Howie, seeking his opinion.
I took Howie aside.
I so informed Mr. Cooms and between us, a patient doctor relationship was arranged for Howie.
Papa Quinn, Howie and my wife and I were exhausted but jubilant.
Howie was the only other person in attendance for the service.
Howie remained obsessed that he'd failed to nail the culprit and when he heard of this later case, he begged Quinn to take enough time away from his wife and new daughter for a single session.
Absent Martha's soothing voice, Howie wasn't able to drift off until our third try.
Once Howie was under, he broke a record for duration; one hour and eighteen minutes.
Quinn returned to the hospital but Betsy and I remained at Howie's side in the pitch dark room.
It was difficult for all of us to maintain attention as Howie watched the child sleep.
Just before Howie was ready to give up, he was startled by a figure he'd not heard enter the house!
The license plate was from Missouri and Howie managed to recite the numbers to us together with a detailed description of the car, an older Buick.
The man pulled up his mask enough for Howie to see a mustache and glasses but little else.
He too was excited with Howie's success and promised to keep us informed.
The Delaware-Alabama man Howie just saw!
Howie was ambivalent as usual while Quinn indicated the choice was Martha's to make.
The Police didn't buy it and both were arrested, thereby renewing Howie's credibility.
Julie from Boston reentered the picture bright one Monday morning when she accompanied Howie into the office.
While Howie stood shyly by the door, she boldly stepped forward and introduced herself.
She was taller than Howie but rail thin and possessed an engaging smile, long blond hair and arresting blue eyes.
She glided over to Howie's side and grasped his hand while he maintained a nervous smile.
I keep asking Howie about you people but he blows me off.
She looked to Howie before answering, as if looking for direction.
Julie gave Howie's hand a tug.
But Howie nagged me to start bridge building.
God, Howie, I'm scared shitless.
She smiled up at Howie and kissed his cheek.
We yacked the usual inanities for a few minutes until Howie excused himself to use the bathroom.
In his absence, Julie surprised us once more by thanking us for referring Howie to a psychiatrist.
Any further conversation was interrupted by Howie's return.
And I'm pleased for Howie's sake.
What is Howie telling her, not just out loud, but with his voice from dreamland?
Howie is entitled his time away from here too.
You can bet she'd turn Howie in in a minute for that much dough!
Besides, Howie knows the consequences of discovery as well as we do.
I can't believe Howie's doing this.