Sunday, September 29, 2013

Fall 2013: Rough Draft Story 2


The Entomology of Parties

Roy’s tongue hurt. A lot. He gingerly tried to pull it back into his mouth, but it was frozen fast to the cast iron railing on his front porch. He made a little progress with his next try, but it felt like the ice was pulling his taste buds off. He was just about to pull some more when the door opened. Roy looked over and there was his mother. She did that thing where she settled all of her weight back on one foot and crossed her arms. “Again?” she said.
Roy gave his tongue another tug. Halfway done.
“It’s December, Roy,” his mom said. “What were you thinking?”
One last pull and Roy was free from the railing. He turned to face his mother and puffed out his chest. Half of his mouth felt somewhere between stinging pins and needles and numbness, but he forced out the words, “I’m going da be a thienthist.” With that, Roy picked up his book bag and walked into the house.
“Is that what you were thinking when you put your legs in the arm holes of a life jacket and jumped in the lake?”
Roy rolled his eyes. “I was four.”
“You drowned.” She helped him out of his thick parka and hung it up on the hook.
“Almost drowned,” he corrected her and fought his way out of his boots.
“Whatever you say, Roy. Now go get cleaned up. The guests will be arriving in only two hours.”
Great. Another dinner party. Roy picked up his book bag and trudged up the stairs. He dropped books on the floor with a thud and opened the drawer where he kept all of his electronics. “How was school, Roy?” he asked in a pretend version of his mom’s voice. “It was fine, mom. I got an A on my science test.” He grabbed the microphone he’d built last month and started scanning for the matching speaker. “That’s wonderful, Roy. I’m so proud of you.” He found the speaker and put it on his desk next to the microphone. “Thanks, mom.” Roy tested the tuning and checked the batteries. The broadcast should work for a few hours at least, especially if he waited to turn on the speaker.
Roy turned on the microphone and snuck into his mother’s room. He looked around and hid the microphone under the vanity. His mom was still cooking for the evening’s party, but he made sure he got out of there fast in case she needed to grab lipstick or something.
Back in his room, Roy changed into his nice trousers and an itchy, starchy white shirt. He jammed his feet into his shiny, black dress shoes and combed his hair flat. He looked himself over in the mirror. His mom’s clean and proper son looked back at him out of the glass and shrugged. Roy frowned and defiantly snatched the tie decorated with methane molecules.
He looked at the clock. An hour left until the house would be filled with boring grownups. Loud boring grownups. Loud boring grownups that think they’re interesting and funny. Those were the worst kind of grownups ever. They did things like pinch cheeks and pretend not to know about the things he learned in science class 2 years ago. At least he hoped they were pretending.
As usual, Roy’s mom went to get dressed for the party as soon as Roy’s dad got home. Even with almost an hour to get ready, she was always still fixing her hair and makeup for like 15 minutes after people started arriving. And it was always Roy’s job to keep them entertained while they waited.
The first doorbell rang 5 minutes early just like Roy expected. He straightened his tie, grabbed his homemade speaker and marched down the stairs. After turning the speaker on and leaving it behind a lamp in the living room, Roy opened the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, come on in,” Roy said.
“Hello Roy, dear,” Mrs. Sullivan handed Roy her purse and smiled too big at him. He spun round just fast enough to avoid getting pinched and put the purse in a closet.
“My parents will be right down,” he explained and led them away from the entry. “There’s plenty of seating available over here.”
The grownups sat down on the couch and the lamp said in Roy’s mom’s voice, “Dan, honey, that was the bell.”
The lamp responded to itself in Roy’s dad’s voice, “Relax, Esther. Roy’s got it.”
“They’re early. Who shows up to a dinner party early these days?” his mom said. His dad must have just shrugged because the room was momentarily quiet.
The Sullivans were unusually stiff and quiet on the couch.
Roy smirked.
The doorbell rang again and Roy jumped up to go answer it. Soon the living room couches were filling up with the Sullivans, the Greens, the Browns, the Yates’s, and the Turners. With the dining room set for 13 people, that was everyone.
The living room was quieter than it usually was when filled with 11 people. The only voices to be heard were Roy’s parents and they weren’t even in the room!
“What do you think, Dan? The red or the pink?”
“You’re about to eat dinner. It’s just gonna get rubbed off anyway.”
“Oh, you’re just useless at this.” There was a pause. “Did you have to invite the Browns?”
“You’re the one who invited the Sullivans,” Roy’s dad said.
“Oh come on, Dan.” Roy’s mom said. “You know what Sheila would do if she found out that we had the Greens over without her.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little quiet down there?”
“Just a bit, yeah.”
There was the sound of Roy’s parents’ door closing and footsteps coming down the stairs. They walked into an uncomfortably silent party. Everything was still until Roy reached behind the lamp for his speaker. His mother’s jaw dropped a little when she saw it. “You didn’t…”
Roy smirked.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Fall 2013 First Draft: Epistolary Story


Two Rows Forward and Three Desks to the Right

Sam,
I left this note in your desk so your friends wouldn’t see you read it. I don’t think they are as nice as you think they are. Why do you like them? You can leave a reply in your desk later and I’ll find it.

Sam,
I know you got my last note. I saw it crumpled up in the garbage. Did you know that your friends went to the park without you last week? I couldn’t hear all of what they said, but I know that they said something about you and Jesse.
Sorry. Thought you would want to know.

Sam,
I’m sorry if my last note made you sad. If I were you, I would want to know that Amber and Jenny were talking about me so I could make better friends. It wasn’t supposed to make you cry.

Who is this? What do you want?

Sam,
I just want to be friends.

You suck at it.

I’m sorry, Sam. I’m glad you are at least talking to me.

I hate you. You ruined everything!

Sam,
I’m not the one who was talking about you.

No. You are just a tattletale. Who is this?


Sam,
You didn’t want to tease me. Amber made you. Amber and Jenny.

Sam,
I’m not Tucker. You didn’t need to yell at him at recess. I don’t know why you did in front of his friends. And I really thought that Amber and Jenny would at least pretend to be your friends when they hit you.

Why don’t you tell me who you are?

I don’t want you to hate me.

Sam,
Won’t you say anything? This makes me smile. I hope you like it. You are right. I am bad at making new friends. I’m too shy. What makes you smile?


I’m sorry you are shy. I really like horses.

I like dragonflies.

Me too. I have a necklace that has a dragonfly on it.

I know. I like it.

Thank you.

You’re welcome. J Why haven’t you worn it in so long?

Amber says bugs are yucky, not pretty.

I’m glad to see you wore the dragonfly today. Want to come over to my house on Saturday?

I don’t even know who you are.

Sam,
Really? You’ve graded 2 of my spelling tests in the last month. My address is 126 Collins St. I’m free at 11:00 AM Saturday.

Why are you telling me who you are now?

You said thank you.

Emily,
I had fun on Saturday. I’m sorry I said your hair was weird when you dyed it blue. I like the green it is now. Want to eat lunch together by the jungle gym?
Sam