Fall 2013 Final Draft Story 2

Bugger

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. 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. It looked like another bad day to show her the microphone he’d built.

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.” 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. There’d never be a good time. Roy could probably win a Nobel Prize and his mom would have to watch the ceremony in a rerun. Roy picked up his book bag and trudged up the stairs. On impulse, he turned around.

“Hey mom, can I show-”

“Go.”

Roy dumped his books on his bedroom floor with a thud. “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. And look what I made!” He grabbed the microphone he’d just finished building last week. “That’s wonderful, Roy. I’m so proud of you.” He grabbed a speaker and put it on his desk next to the microphone. “Thanks, mom.” Roy tested the tuning and checked the batteries.

The equipment communicated perfectly. Roy had an idea. He’d show her his project at the party. That way, they could both get what they wanted.

Roy snuck into his mom’s room and hid the microphone in the vanity’s top drawer.

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 thought they were 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 didn’t start getting ready until his dad got home. Roy wondered if she was afraid to go in her room without him of something. She always took forever to primp her makeup or whatever it was moms did, and it was always Roy’s job to keep the guests entertained while they waited.

The first doorbell rang 5 minutes early. Roy straightened his methane tie, marched down the stairs, and left the speaker behind a lamp. “Mr. and Mrs. Stiller, come on in,” Roy said as he opened the door.

“Hello Roy, dear,” Mrs. Stiller 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.

The grownups sat down on the couch in the living room, and Roy claimed the end of the couch next to the lamp hiding his speaker.

“How’s school, Roy?” Mr. Stiller asked.

“It’s good,” Roy said. “I finished my science project early.”

“Oh?” Mr. Stiller raised his brows. “What is it?

“I made a wireless microphone and speaker.”

“All by yourself?” Mrs. Stiller said.

“Yeah,” Roy smiled. “I tried to show Mom earlier, but she was busy. So I’m gonna show everyone later.”

The doorbell rang again and Roy jumped up to go answer it. Soon the living room couches were filled up with the Stillers, the Greens, the Browns, the Yates’, and the Turners. Roy reached over and turned the speaker to top volume, and his mom’s voice burst from behind the lamp.

“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.

The room was oddly quiet, and the guests looked puzzled. Except Mr. Stiller. He looked like he was about to say something, but Roy’s mom’s voice over the speaker cut him off.

“Did you have to invite the Browns?”

“You’re the one who invited the Stillers,” 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.”

The guests traded embarrassed glances. The Stillers were especially stiff and quiet on the couch.

Roy hid a smirk.

“Don’t you think it’s a little quiet down there?”

“Just a bit, yeah. You about ready?”

“Just about.” There was the scratching noise of the microphone’s drawer opening. “What’s this? Something of yours or Roy’s?”

“It’s not mine,” Roy’s dad said.

Roy heard his parents’ door closing and footsteps coming down the stairs echoed by the speaker behind the lamp. They walked into a silent party.

“Hello everyone!” Roy’s mom said and the speaker squealed at the microphone’s close proximity. 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 shrugged. “I tried to show you.”