Horrified that she had wrongly accused Jason and ironically worse, taken the very object he was trying to perserve, she walked down the hall. Halting before the door, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the ensuing pleas for apologies.
Jason's red eyes looked up at his mom as she entered the room. His pitiful sobs tore at her.
"Sweetie I am so sorry. I didn't realize you were trying to tell me that this was your car." She sat on the edge of his bed, concern covering her face like a mask.
"So, you don't hate me?" Jason timidly asked, drawing back slightly.
"Of course not! I just had a rough day, but that's not your fault. Come here." Placing the car gingerly on the bed, Carlie held out her arms expectantly. Jason hesitated then threw himself in her embrace, fresh sobs pouring out. His mom held him and rocked, desperately trying to convey her love for him. He began to calm down, and already her thoughts were returning to dinner.
"Why don't you go pick up your toys in the living room and then we can eat." She stood up from the toddler bed and almost fell back down as daggers stabbed her stomach.
"Mommy, are you okay?" Jason looked worried.
"Of course, just go do what I said." she gasped. In spite of the fire burning in her abdomen, she exerted a monumental effort in erasing the pain from her expression, anxious to assuage Jason's fears.
"Must have been the leftovers I had for lunch today." Carlie tried to comfort herself, but thoughts of an appendicitis flashed through her mind. She breathed slowly attempting to calm her thoughts and ease the pain, which seemed to help. As Jason ran out of the room, casting one last glance at his mother, she was able to stand up. Slowly and painfully she walked back to the pot, turned down the heat and began spooning out their pathetic meal.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Routine Bloodwork Part 1
Carlie shifted her weight as she finished dicing the carrots. The pot of beef stock simmering on the stove breezed a savory odor past her, evoking saliva to begin coursing through her mouth. Although her three children thoroughly disliked stew, it proved to be a simple, economical and nourishing meal. She glanced at the box of beef bouillon cubes resting on the counter. Since the passing of Charles, she rarely had the money to purchase actual cuts of meat which surely would create a more appetizing fare. With a flick of her blade, she slid the last of the carrots off the cutting board frowning as a single orange disk slid under the heating element.
"Great..." She grumbled as a wisp of black smoke curled in the air, indicating contact with the red hot metal. Grabbing a butter knife, she only succeeded in shifting it further down.
"Boys, pick up your toys in the living room before dinner!" Yelling down the hall, she wondered for a moment why she exerted so much energy in nagging the kids to pick up after themselves. They ended up in the same location at the same time she was making the same meal the next day. The lack of variety in her life drew a sigh from her lips. Her eyes glanced over the room idly. The seafoam green walls had taken on a dingy hue. The oaken cabinets had become darkened around the handles from tiny hands searching for sustenance. It was not a filthy kitchen considering Carlie's diligent efforts in maintaining a sanitary workspace. However, she began to notice that her focus on the bigger picture left the details suffering.
Jason burst through the hall on her right with Michael, as though attached by an invisible string, immediately behind. Their screams shattered the house and burst Carlie's reverie.
"Jason! Come here this instant!" With face fallen, he trudged to his mother's side, his 5 year old eyes struggling to resist the flood that threatened to be released. Michael triumphantly marched along, still attached to his sibling.
"What is going on here." Carlie fumed, irritated at yet another inconvenience in her life. Michael spoke without hesitation.
"Jason took my car and won't give it back." Carlie knelt down between them. Although Michael was nearly three, his speech far surpassed any of his age. She marvelled at his intelligence and tended to favor him for it. Passing judgement immediately, solely on Michael's testimony, Carlie sent Jason to his room, scolding him for his inconsiderate behavior. She vaguely noticed his attempts to speak to her, but in her wrath she insisted more forcefully that he follow her directions.
Tears flowed freely as Jason's wails became muffled by the closed door of his room. Irritated, she snatched the car from Michael and sent him to the living room to pick up his toys. He sniveled and whined in an attempt to be relieved from duty, but in a flash of temper from Carlie, he hurried to accomplish the assigned task.
As she stood up, she felt a pop in her knee. Pain rippled up her thigh and tore a gasp from her. Clinging to the counter cursing herself for aging, she was startled by a voice behind her.
"Mom, are you okay?" Caitlin asked, worry wrinkling her young forehead. The pain began to dull somewhat allowing Carlie to respond to her 8 year old daughter truthfully.
"I'm fine, just getting old." Though young, Carlie had lived 35 difficult years that had ravaged her body. Two years ago her husband died suddenly from a blod clot in his brain. Six months pregnant and two young children proved to be difficult to manage immediately entering singlehood. The couple had not considered ever being involved in such a scenario and brushed off Carlie's brother anytime he suggested they purchase life insurance from the company he represented. She deeply regretted not having listened as she returned to work merely 6 weeks after giving birth to Michael. Resuming her vigil at the pot boiling over on the stove, her thoughts wandered back to this favorite regret, as they had done millions of times in the past.
"Why are you holding Jason's car?" Caitlin inquired as she began to set the table without being asked. Carlie now noticed she still grasped the small blue toy Grandma Jeanie had given Jason as a birthday present two months ago. Her heart sank as realization washed away the pity party she had been revelling in.
"Great..." She grumbled as a wisp of black smoke curled in the air, indicating contact with the red hot metal. Grabbing a butter knife, she only succeeded in shifting it further down.
"Boys, pick up your toys in the living room before dinner!" Yelling down the hall, she wondered for a moment why she exerted so much energy in nagging the kids to pick up after themselves. They ended up in the same location at the same time she was making the same meal the next day. The lack of variety in her life drew a sigh from her lips. Her eyes glanced over the room idly. The seafoam green walls had taken on a dingy hue. The oaken cabinets had become darkened around the handles from tiny hands searching for sustenance. It was not a filthy kitchen considering Carlie's diligent efforts in maintaining a sanitary workspace. However, she began to notice that her focus on the bigger picture left the details suffering.
Jason burst through the hall on her right with Michael, as though attached by an invisible string, immediately behind. Their screams shattered the house and burst Carlie's reverie.
"Jason! Come here this instant!" With face fallen, he trudged to his mother's side, his 5 year old eyes struggling to resist the flood that threatened to be released. Michael triumphantly marched along, still attached to his sibling.
"What is going on here." Carlie fumed, irritated at yet another inconvenience in her life. Michael spoke without hesitation.
"Jason took my car and won't give it back." Carlie knelt down between them. Although Michael was nearly three, his speech far surpassed any of his age. She marvelled at his intelligence and tended to favor him for it. Passing judgement immediately, solely on Michael's testimony, Carlie sent Jason to his room, scolding him for his inconsiderate behavior. She vaguely noticed his attempts to speak to her, but in her wrath she insisted more forcefully that he follow her directions.
Tears flowed freely as Jason's wails became muffled by the closed door of his room. Irritated, she snatched the car from Michael and sent him to the living room to pick up his toys. He sniveled and whined in an attempt to be relieved from duty, but in a flash of temper from Carlie, he hurried to accomplish the assigned task.
As she stood up, she felt a pop in her knee. Pain rippled up her thigh and tore a gasp from her. Clinging to the counter cursing herself for aging, she was startled by a voice behind her.
"Mom, are you okay?" Caitlin asked, worry wrinkling her young forehead. The pain began to dull somewhat allowing Carlie to respond to her 8 year old daughter truthfully.
"I'm fine, just getting old." Though young, Carlie had lived 35 difficult years that had ravaged her body. Two years ago her husband died suddenly from a blod clot in his brain. Six months pregnant and two young children proved to be difficult to manage immediately entering singlehood. The couple had not considered ever being involved in such a scenario and brushed off Carlie's brother anytime he suggested they purchase life insurance from the company he represented. She deeply regretted not having listened as she returned to work merely 6 weeks after giving birth to Michael. Resuming her vigil at the pot boiling over on the stove, her thoughts wandered back to this favorite regret, as they had done millions of times in the past.
"Why are you holding Jason's car?" Caitlin inquired as she began to set the table without being asked. Carlie now noticed she still grasped the small blue toy Grandma Jeanie had given Jason as a birthday present two months ago. Her heart sank as realization washed away the pity party she had been revelling in.
From the top...
Over a month from the conception of this site and I return to "begin" a story. This would be more of a practice in character development and imagery as opposed to a thick and intriguing plot. Certainly that will come later.
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