Red Writing Hood Meme: Where I'm From

Wow- this week's meme was interesting for me. It's sort of like a Mad Lib, but not quite as funny. I got a chance to really sit and think about growing up and some of the things I've experienced, and the people I've met- it was rather eye-opening. It was also nice to write after stepping away from the pen for a bit to focus on some knitting projects I've had lined up for people. So. Here's this week's writing assignment...


Where I'm From

I am from a giant picnic table suited to seat many from Dad’s own handiwork and hours in the workshop, building and planning, to ensure we were all able to have a nice sit-down meal together.

I am from the scary-looking yet comforting 175-year old farmhouse that was restored by my parents on the weekends when there was time between school functions and appointments.

I am from the rose bushes Mom wanted along the property line that she tended to daily, the small orchard that bore fruit, the garden from which we got our vegetables (and punishment of weeding when we misbehaved).

I am from advent calendars and candles on Christmas, homemade birthday cakes and presents, and learning to look past disabilities, both physical and mental, from siblings Becky, Carly, Peter, Kevin, John, Esmeralda, Jenny, Susie, Timmy, Matt, Dennis, Mark, Bart and David, to the numerous cousins, aunts and uncles we spent holidays with.

I am from the family of love, sharing, and tolerance, no matter the differences.

From being selfless and helping others before helping yourself, because their smile and word of thanks is reward enough.

I am from a spiritual family, but as an adult choose to worship in nature.

I'm from blended families, both birth and chosen.

From the drive to Chicago to greet my new brother in from South Korea, from waiting anxiously to hear the news that our new sister was born to another mother and father, to grieving together as our eldest brother succumbed to MD.

I am from two loving and selfless people who welcomed two boys into the world, then opened their doors to 13 other children who were not considered “adoptable” because of physical ailments, mental slowness, or emotional issues. Two people who brought these children together under one roof and taught us that we are indeed worthy of love, and of acceptance, and of understanding. Two people who reminded us that there are others in the world who need our help much more than we do.

Red Writing Hood Meme: Dramatic Entrance

This week's meme was a doozy for me. The prompt: "An art opening at a lavish downtown gallery. A car crashes through the plate glass window. The driver's door opens, and an eight-year-old girl steps out." I think I must have started this a thousand times before almost decided to just forget it and wait until next week. I didn't feel like I was thinking very coherently, and it may be due to the fact that I am on my 7-day rotation for work, and the phones have been rather hectic all week. It's hard to put together a decent thought when you have back to back to back calls. This idea hit me as I was driving home last night, and I wrote it when I came in this morning, and all it took was looking at the scene from a different perspective. And nothing saucy this time. Sorry. Maybe the next meme I do can be Skinamax suitable? ;)

“Mom? Mommy, are you okay?” She was lying on her chair, the brown one that Grandma had given her when Dad left. She didn’t look right, and it scared me. She barely looked at me when I shook her, and her skin felt weird, like she was sweating, but she wasn’t hot. She actually felt kind of cold. I covered her with a blanket, but she started shivering. I wanted to cry because I was so scared, but if I am crying, I couldn’t help her. I tried to remember what my teachers taught us when we were learning about how to help someone, but it was hard to think. Oh, that’s it! I have to call 9-1-1 and let them know I need help!

“Mommy, I’m going to call for help, okay? I’ll be right back.” She didn’t respond, but I could tell she was trying to look at me. At least her eyes moved towards me. She was drooling a little bit, like my friend Abby’s baby sister Maggie Mae. Abby says that Maggie Mae is drooling because she’s getting in new teeth. But I don’t think Mommy was getting in new teeth. I ran into the kitchen and picked up the telephone that is on the wall next to the back door, but when I listened, there was no sound. Now I was even more scared. The phone is supposed to work when you need help, but ours must have been broken. My heart was beating so fast in my chest I thought it was going to fall out. I have to get her to the hospital so the doctors can help her. I ran back into the living room.

“The phone is broken, so I can’t call for help. There has to be another way.” Then I saw her keys on the coffee table. Mom had told me before how everything worked in the car. She also told me that I had to have a special card that says I’m allowed to use the car that I’d get when I was old enough, but I think because it’s an emergency it’d be okay. I grabbed the keys and ran outside to unlock and open the doors, then went back inside. It was hard, but I got Mommy to her feet. I helped her outside and got her in the car. I even put her seat belt on her, just like she taught me.

Now it was my turn. I got behind the steering wheel and closed the door. It was bigger than I thought. But I put the key in and turned it, just like I saw Mom do, and it spooked me a little when the car started. Okay, brake on the left, which makes it stop, and the go on the right to make it move. The stick that makes it go forward or backward, she said put it in “D”. I couldn’t remember what the “D” stood for, but I put the orange arrow on it, and the car started to move forward. I stepped on the brake and it stopped. I think I can do this. Seeing Mom as sick as she was, I had to do it. I stepped on the go softly, and we rolled forward. Yeah, I can do this.

“Hang on, Mom,” I said, still trying not to cry. “I’m going to get you to get some help.” I started to drive really slow because it was hard to see over the wheel, but once I got onto the road by our house I was able to go a little faster. Every once in a while Mom would moan, or whisper something, but I couldn’t understand her very well. The radio was on, so I sang along with the songs I knew, hoping the music would make her feel better since it always made me happy when I was feeling sad.

It took a while, but I found my way to the city. The hospital had to be close by since we always saw the buildings when we were going to school on the school bus. But the streets were more confusing than I remembered. The buildings were too tall for me to see anything, and the traffic lights made me have to stop a lot. I was having a hard time stopping the tears, but I kept reminding myself that I had to stay strong for Mom, because I was all she had left.

I didn’t notice how fast I was going. I was crying and telling Mom to hold on, we’re almost to the hospital, when a dog walked out into the street. I screamed and turned the wheel, a little harder than maybe I should have. The tires squealed and the car lurched, and I almost threw up. The car bounced up onto the sidewalk and we were heading right towards a building. The front was all glass, like one of those fancy restaurants we saw on TV, and there were people inside dressed really nice. I tried to hit the brake to stop, but I didn’t hit it in time. With a crash, the car went through the window and into the building.

I don’t remember the car coming to a stop, or me getting out of the car. It was almost as if I had fallen asleep and was sleepwalking, but drove a car instead. When I opened my eyes I was inside the building filled with the nicely-dressed people who looked really surprised. There was broken glass all around on the floor, and it looked like some paintings as well. They were broken and some were ripped. I felt bad about that, because I know I did it. But I was so worried about Mommy.

“Please, someone help my mommy.” I cried. “She’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” A lady stepped towards us and looked into the car.

“Oh my god, Nathan! Help me!” She pulled the door open and a man helped her pull Mommy out of the car. Another lady who looked old like Grandma was talking on a small telephone and another came up to me.

“C'mon let’s get you taken care of,” she said, her voice very soft. I couldn’t fight my tears anymore and I started sobbing. My vision blurred really bad and it was hard to see, but she took my hand and took me to sit on a chair nearby. I could see the lady and the man with Mommy, and soon the ambulance arrived with the police. She asked my name and how old I was, and I told her my name was Crystal Marie Humgardner and I was almost 8 years old. She told this to a policeman while I had some fruit punch that was given to me by someone, but I couldn’t see who it was. It was good, and it was cold. I was also given a cookie. I like cookies, especially chocolate chip. Those are my favourites.

The policeman came over to me and asked me questions, and I told him about how Mommy got sick, and the phone wasn’t working so I couldn’t call 9-1-1 like I was taught by Mrs Arntz in school, so I got in the car and drove it as best as I could as Mommy had explained to me. He was so nice, and gave me a tissue to wipe my eyes because I was crying again. The ambulance people had Mommy on a stretcher and were putting her in the back of the ambulance, and he said I could go with him and we’d go to the hospital. He said I was a very brave girl, and that he thinks Mommy will be alright. He even gave me another cookie.

As we were driving away, I looked back at the building. The policeman said it was an art gallery and the lady who helped Mom out of the car was the one whose paintings I had broken. “Was she mad? I didn’t mean to do it.” He shook his head and said she was just glad that my mom was getting help. That made me happy. So happy that I started to hum a song that I knew Mommy liked alot. That would make her better. I just knew it.

Red Writing Hood Meme: Dialogue

It's that time again, everyone- time for the Red Writing Hood meme! This week's meme, for some reason, was way harder than I thought it would be. The idea is to create a short piece of fiction featuring the dialogue between two people arguing, focusing more more on the spoken than the setting details. I tossed around 4 or 5 different scraps of dialogue for different stories before settling on one, and even then I'm not sure if I'm happy with it. But it's done, and it's here, although I almost feel as if it is sub par. Who knows- maybe the others are destined to become a different story? Maybe they will open that door that will get a book published?

North By Northman

"I've got a new job, Mom," Jolie said. She took a sip of her lemonade.

"You did? That's fantastic! Where at?"

"Shreveport. I'm going to be an executive assistant for a club owner." Tabitha looked at her daughter skeptically.

"That's a long way from home, Jolie, and working in a club? Are you sure it's safe?"

"Of course it is. Mr Eric has top-notch security in the building day and night." Another sip of lemonade. "He said it's actually kind of boring there sometimes."

"I don't know," Tabby replied, still not fully sold on her eldest child going all the way to Louisiana. "Don't you think you could find something closer?" Jolie shook her head slowly.

"I've sent out my resume to so many places, Mom, and haven't gotten even the slightest nibble here. So I think I need to start fresh elsewhere, and this is exactly the change I need."

"What are you guys talking about?" Jolie's younger sister Dawn came into the kitchen and flopped on to the bar stool beside her.

"Jolie's found a job. In Shreveport, of all places," their mother answered. "At a club working as an assistant." Dawn's eyes got big.

Please tell me it's not the place I'm thinking of." Jolie didn't answer. "Are you serious? Jolie, that place is crawling with vamps! Everyone knows that!" Dawn shook her head. "Surely you aren't stupid enough to take this job, especially knowing their 'turnover rate'". This was complete with Dawn's self-patented air-quotes.

"Oh please," Jolie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Like no other bar has ever gone through several bartenders in a short period of time."

"THEY WERE KILLED!" Dawn shrieked. Tabitha grabbed the end of the counter to steady herself as the news her girls were battling over suddenly sunk in.

"Vampires? Is that what she means?" Both girls looked at their mother and Jolie nodded meekly.

Red Writing Hood Meme: POV

Time for this week's writing meme on The Red Dress Club blog. I missed last week's, sadly. This is all about meeting an ex at a grocery store while writing from the male's POV. Critiques are always welcome!

Swedish Fish

It had been a while since I had come to this side of town. Five years to be exact. In fact, if it wasn’t for my brother Jasper living here and inviting me over for dinner and to listen to some new albums he had gotten recently, I wouldn’t be here at all. Too much of a chance of running into HER.

But I’m not even going to think about that. All of it is in the past, over and done with. I’m just here to grab some beer, maybe some chips, then head up to Jasper’s. He seemed really stoked over his finds when we spoke on the phone earlier this week.

“Luis? Is that you?” I could literally feel the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as her voice raked over me. Even after all this time it made my stomach knot up. I slowly turned, forcing a smile on my lips. Just my damned luck.

“Austin, hi, how are you?” I asked quickly. Surely forced pleasantries should make this go faster. She still looked pretty much the same as the day she walked out. Long brown hair that reached just past her shoulder blades, curling slightly at the ends, a thick crop of bangs over her forehead, and a little button nose that rose slightly in what she always referred to as her “ski jump”. She wasn’t wearing glasses and she was a little more plump than when we were together, but I’d recognize her anywhere.

“I thought that was you!” She reached and gave me a quick hug. “I’m well, thank you.” A little formal, but that is okay. She stood back and gave me a quick once-over. “You look great! What brings you to this neck of the woods? I thought you lived on the Island?” Her speech had a lilt to it, a slight accent I could not place.

“I’m good, Austin. Yeah, just visiting Jasper. He’s got a gig DJ-ing in the club downtown and wants me to hear his new mix.” She didn’t need to hear all this, but I couldn’t get my mouth to stop yapping. She just smiled. She and Jasper had never truly gotten along. None of my family had really ever warmed up to her. “And you?”

“Oh, Eric and I are visiting my folks.” Ah, the giant albino bastard she left me for. I don’t think he was a true albino- no red eyes- but he was blond enough and blue eyed enough that he would have made Hitler proud. Not like my black hair and olive skin. “We were only in for a few days, and fly home tomorrow.” This shocked me, as I never thought she’d leave the comfort of her parents’ house, especially after the break-up we had.

“You don’t live here anymore?” She shook her head and smiled.

“We bought a place in Stockholm, where Eric is from.” I had always known he wasn’t born in the States, but wow. Sweden? That certainly explained the Aryan features. It was hard enough being on the smaller side at 5 feet 6 inches and comparing myself to a guy standing 6 foot 4, but now she throws in that he’s a Swede? How can I one-up that? I knew I couldn’t, and for some reason it made me mad as hell. I shouldn’t have started talking but it was impossible to keep the hurt silent.

“So you went from a common slut to a kept whore, huh?” It was as if the filter between my brain and mouth had disintegrated at the attempt to one-up Austin, and I watched almost helplessly as my words tore the smile from her face. But I couldn’t stop. Secretly, I think I didn’t want to stop. “You destroyed what we had to be with that jackhole? Was it worth it? How long before he’s tossed aside just like I was?”

Tears pooled in her brown eyes and her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly before the fire raged behind her gaze and she glared at me. I could sense myself shrinking inwardly, knowing that while she was usually rather easy-going, she did indeed have quite an Irish temper. Her cheeks flushed red.

“I had always known you were a callous prick, but I didn’t realize that not only are you cruel, but you obviously didn’t believe me when I said I did not cheat on you.” Her eyes narrowed further, her jaw set and teeth clenched. I was regretting my choice of words, but deep down, seeing her happy- and with him of all people- made me want to knock her down any way I could. What I didn’t expect was her to spat back just as harshly. Or the Viking to suddenly appear behind her, hand on her shoulder and eyeing me cautiously.

“Älskling? Sweetheart? Everything okay?” His icy gaze never left my face and I almost wanted to hide, but I held my ground. I knew I was going to have to face him one day. I just wasn’t sure if today was really the right day. Austin leaned back into Eric and closed her eyes. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, and she shook her head.

“Austin…” I started but she held up her hand. I immediately held my tongue, something I should have done to begin with. But pain and hurt makes us do stupid things, and I am surely not immune to that.

“It’s done, Luis. No apologies are going to make it go away or make it better. Go live your life, do whatever, and stay a bitter man.” With those words she turned, took Eric’s arm and walked away. I could see a slump to her shoulders as they walked and I knew my words had taken a toll, but rather than feel triumphant, I felt like an ass. Tonight is going to require more than a six-pack to get through after this fiasco, so I went to the back of the grocery, grabbed a 24-can case, and made my way to the front registers. If I’m going start the journey to drunken oblivion, I may as well do it right.

Red Writing Hood Meme: Your Mother

This is for a writing meme on The Red Dress Club blog. Critiques are always welcome! (And this one is not saucy. Sorry, you'll have to wait on that one.)

.:*:.

"Your mother never ceases to amaze me," he said as they pulled out of her parents' driveway and onto the snow-covered streets of Toledo. Delia loved spending the holidays in in her childhood home, but lately the time there was becoming unbearable when it included Elliott. "Here I thought she would be an amazing cook, and yet the ham she made was so dry I had to soak that puppy in gravy just so it wouldn't taste like sawdust." He chuckled hoarsely. "And could the asparagus have been more overcooked and limp? My mom could cook circles around yours, babe..."

Delia let him prattle on, turning her attention to the cityscape outside the car. She had grown up in this neighborhood, a quiet little suburb where everyone seemed to know everyone else. Her folks weren't rich, but they had managed to secure a good-sized nest egg that allowed them to live comfortably in retirement. Her father Ed had been a fireman, ever since he had first volunteered with his local firehouse when he was eighteen. Her mother Eva had worked as the head librarian at the local public library. The two had met by chance when the IGA grocery store next to the library had caught fire. Call it an accident, call it Fate- they had been a couple since.

Delia glanced at Elliott, seeing his lips move but not hearing a sound he made. She had always believed she would find The One and have the fairy tale wedding most girls dream about. She had always imagined The One being a modern Prince Charming, clad in Armani suits for armor, a Jaguar sports car for a steed, and overflowing coffers that would make a member of the Royal Family jealous. Of course, she reasoned with herself, at this point I'd take Joe Anyman who has a Hyundai and a 401k instead of this bozo.

"Are you even listening to me?" Elliott's voice pulled her back to the present.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "I must have dozed off. I guess I'm more tired than I thought." Elliott scoffed.

"Don't see how. I mean, it's not like you've done anything all day." Great. THIS again.

"Y'know, just drop me off at my place. I have some papers to work on before the break is over, and I want to get started on them. I'll just come over tomorrow or something."

"Seriously?" He looked at her incredulously. "It's Thanksgiving, for Christ's sake. You aren't back at school for another three days. Can't it wait?" Delia shook her head and he sighed heavily, a dejected sound. He had apparently been hoping for a nightcap, but Delia had been hit with a revelation that required other plans, ones not including him. A year was way too long for this kind of emotional baggage, and it was time to kick the ship called Elliott out of the harbour.

.:*:.