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Archive for January, 2008
(2 votes, average: 3 out of 5)
Loading …It is always so HARD to sleep on Christmas Eve! I kept waking up every 5 minutes it seemed. But I must have slept some, because then I heard my sister yelling “Get up! Get up!” as she tore into my room and punched me in the arm for good measure. My heart pounded as we raced down the stairs to the most beautiful tree and presents all around. And that one in the corner was just big enough for..
And then I woke up. For real. But there was no tree, only the battered card table in the kitchen of my trailer. Next door, the rumble of that dang diesel pickup ratted my windows. I sat up on the sofa and looked at the clock. 6am. Christmas Eve. What an ungodly hour, especially since my shift at the Lucky Chicken hadn’t ended till 2 am last night. I flopped back down on the sofa, closing my eyes and hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, but it wasn’t to be. My dog decided he couldn’t wait any longer, and between his whines and my trailer throbbing, I gave up.
“All right, I am coming, just hang on.” I stumbled to the kitchenette, looking for the leash. The small brown package on the table stared back at me accusingly. It really wasn’t my package, I mean, the mailman had left it on my steps 2 days before, but it was addressed to some girl three trailers down People came and went from here pretty regular, so I hadn’t actually met her. Miriam Valdez, the name said. She probably wasn’t even still living there anymore, I told myself, trying to ignore that little voice pricking the back of my head. I had been meaning to take it down there, still, it was probably the only package I would get this Christmas. Mom was between husbands this year, and my sister was busy with baby number 3, so there wouldn’t be anything from them. I didn’t have many other friends, and the ones I did had headed back home for the Christmas break. I was stuck here between terms, working at the Lucky Chicken because I had to pay my fine and court costs for that stupid DWI that really wasn’t my fault anyway. In any case, my probation lasted until the spring, and then I could finally leave this pit.
I found the leash and I headed out the door for a walk, actually more like a drag. He dragging me down the road towards the highway so that he could piss on the exact same signpost that every other neighborhood dog had marked overnight. We passed the trailer were that girl would be. A battered dodge was parked next to the trailer, so someone was there. But probably not her anyway.
This month’s photo was submitted by Scott Snider. Thanks Scott!
(2 votes, average: 2.5 out of 5) Loading …Rain splattered irregularly on my windshield. I couldn’t find the right setting of intermittent speed for the wipers. To fast and it was annoying, too slow and they screeched loudly without water to lubricate their way. Again, annoying. The strong winds of the day’s storm were finally letting up. Starlight couldn’t make it’s way through the cloud cover, but the silence was the worst. My wife was giving me ‘the silent treatment’ despite my earlier attempts to talk it out. She was too mad for that. My mind drifted back to what I’d heard on the radio, about women’s brains physically ‘wired’ to be madder longer. A fat lot of good that did me now, as just knowing a fact doesn’t help make it untrue. And just wishing you could take back the last hours of your life doesn’t mean it will happen.
She moved, although still looking out the passenger side window, then returned to her previous pose, fingertips on her lips. I think she was wiping away a tear, but it so quickly, I really didn’t get a good look. I was a second-grader again, scared, and sad, waiting for my punishment. Except this time I hadn’t cut Sally Jenkins hair with scissors, or glued a book’s pages shut. I had, I just realized, ruined lives! Well, was it that bad?
I signaled my approaching turn off the road, the click-clack sound the only thing louder than our breathing. It wouldn’t be long, we’d be home. I thought I knew how it would play out. She’d go to our bedroom and shut the door. I’d wait, just wait, not daring to enjoy myself with TV, or the computer. Our boy would might be sleeping anyway. Where would I be sleeping?
The rain decided to stop, as did the wind, just the time I pulled into our driveway. She spoke, “Lou… I want a…” Her words stopped, her focus now on something else entirely. “SAM!” She opened her door, well before I could put the car in park. Running through the sloppy lawn, she screamed our son’s name over and over again. “SAM! SAM!” I saw what triggered this burst of energy, a tree had fallen on our son’s play set. Large splinters were everywhere, branches, leaves, all littering the grounds. Seeing Linda stagger around the area, coming up with nothing, I bolted inside the house. It was my turn to yell, “SAM!”
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