Three Fragments

Prompt: An experience nobody knows about, my reaction and what others attributed it to.

Some days I can still see him. Lying--always lying there on that bed. He is still coughing but hardly though, because he doesn't have the energy to do it right. I had seen this in real life and now anywhere else I was, so long I remembered it. It was this leftover image of my grandpa that scared me. I never told anyone what made me sleep in someone else's bedroom until I was twelve. They could always get a good laugh over how old I was before I could sleep alone in my room. They thought I was afraid of the dark. I guess in truth, they were right.

I decided a long time ago I could deal with their laughing better than I could to explain. So I didn't. It made me feel better that people acknowledged it though, so my pain wasn't completely hidden and alone. It just wasn't fully understood and I liked that. I am a very private person.

 I had seen him pass away simply because I had to go with my mom to visit her dad in the middle of the night. He was frail, the workers had said. He could pass at anytime and they just wanted us to say goodbye if the time were to be soon. So we went and he died while I stood there. Strange how as soon as the spirit leaves, the body becomes foreign. I didn't know him. It frightened me.

That's the real story behind why I couldn't sleep alone until I was twelve. Now it has just become natural to me, when everyone else is laughing and remembering, I remember him.

Cellphone

1)"I need my cellphone!" I yelled from my room. A muffled "what" was yelled back.

"Cellphone!" No yell back meant that there had been a complete communication. Staring at my leg, I cursed the caste it was shackled in. A day ago at this time walking downstairs to retrieve my cellphone would have been easy, painless. Instead I was to lay in bed because of it. I had received a call in the middle of the night. The voice on the other end was rushed and quiet. It had said something about being in trouble or needing help. I had sprung from my bed not realizing how well twisted in the sheets I had been, fell and broke my leg. My phone snapped shut. I pushed my way to the phone and tried to call back. Private number. I couldn't call. I moaned as I rolled to my side, in pain and worried about the caller. Now I lay in my bed again, shackled in numb pain and needing my cellphone in case they called back.

2)We were in Europe for the first time and we had lost our cellphone. Classic. Worst of all was the way we were expected to act as if this wasn't a problem, simply because it had been my brother who had lost it. Had it been me, it would have been a clumsy absentminded thing to do. But Jake had a way of persuading people into believing whatever he said and he was now saying it wasn't that big of a deal, that is would just be a distraction in such a beautiful and fascinating place as Europe. That is why I loved it when he met Sandra. A graceful, trim brunette who told Jake in broken English that he should call her to meet him at some museum. She touched his arm as she extended her hand to retrieve his cellphone to put her number in it. Jake's face was priceless. She turned in a huff when she thought he was rejecting her. The rest of the trip I reminded him that Sandra would just be a distraction in such a beautiful and fascinating place as Europe.

3) Alright fine. I got work off for tomorrow. See you then. I found this text on my boyfriend of two years' cellphone. From Cassie it had said. All I could do was reread it. I tried to make sense of it. But tomorrow was my birthday and Blake said he had to work tomorrow night. That was why tonight we were going out instead. I heard the toilet flush so I shut the phone and threw it to wear Blake had left it. "Ready?" he said smiling, wiping off his hands on his jeans. "Who's Cassie?" I said bluntly, wondering why I had shut the phone if I couldn't keep my mouth shut. He blushed. I had caught him. "Oh...it was supposed to be a surprise. For your birthday. What else did you read? You know about the surprise now huh?" I stopped and felt very small. I ran to him and hugged him. "No. Let's go to dinner." He didn't believe me of course and the rest of the night was spent trying to see if I really did know. We laughed and talked. All I knew was that I had picked a good one.

Outside My Window

Outside my window is a green, prickly tree. Next to it is my neighbor's house. I picture his red truck and the noise that comes from his garage at two in the morning. Then I picture myself lying in bed, eyes wide and staring at the grayish ceiling. This makes me remember some of the thoughts I have had those nights when the music from his red truck won't stop blaring. College, careers, dating, money all these and others swirl in my head until the hum of my thoughts lulls me to a heavy sleep.

Outside my window I can see a park. Much to my chagrin, it has no swings. Swings of course are the only reason to have a park. I recall nights swinging at a park other than the one out front of my house with people who are special to me. Most of these were summer nights, when the scent of orange blossoms hung in the air, I ran barefoot through grass and sand, and when I would sweat with the moon high above.

Outside my window I see a lot of things I have seen for a very long time. Eleven years to be exact. But I am moving after this semester. Off to another state, to a new college and I wonder how much I will miss what I know now. I am studying and memorizing the scene around me. I wonder how I could ever forget this place, but I have lived long enough to know that all things fade with time. When I look out my window, life is on my mind.

Fingerprinted

Today I got fingerprinted. Yes. Fingerprinted in some hole-in-the-wall dive where I felt completely wrong for being there. I guess to me an ordeal like this comes because you've committed some heinous crime, but I reminded myself that I was there to fulfill a requirement for my College of Education check sheet.

As I entered the door wearing a magenta short sleeve turtleneck, black pants and a smile, I realized I might not find another magenta short sleeve turtleneck (let alone a smile) come through the door for the next half hour.

I saw visibly sick people waiting in congested slumps for the flu shot, a woman almost in hysterics over a TB test and some frowny lady who didn't speak even when the attendant at the front desk asked her simple questions. I decided to make this a short and one-time visit. 

Waiting for my name to be called, the woman next to me leaned over to explain just how very sick she was. Getting even closer, she was trying to decide whether it was seasonal allergies, a cold or that dirty dog she was watching for a friend she couldn't be sure. I tried to listen but could not help but be distracted by something that happened in the past.

I had been at the DMV when the room had been just as full and just as unsettling. A woman in a spandex green dress and a cowboy hat was leaning toward another woman, while half laughing-half coughing. The woman listening then pulled out a piece of paper and covered her entire face but her eyes. The point was made, but not well taken.

Back in the fingerprinting office I considered briefly the tactic of the lady in at the DMV. My kind heart won over, but I was particularly glad when her name was called. I left with my checksheet filled and possibly also with a cold.

The Radio and What it Says

You can learn a lot about a person from the "things" they own. The type and style of their clothes, car, phone and music can clue you into who they are- at least in part. Like most people my age I own a stereo. At any time you might find "Wicked," "Music and Lyrics," church music, or some compilation of my iTunes in it. The CD inside would tell you much about me and my state of mind on any given day.

I'll guess that on a sad day you will find something soft and soothing or perhaps fast to bounce me back to my happy self. If I am contemplative, which I would say I am quite often, I will have on music somewhere in between, so long as I can understand the lyrics and they make me think.

Maybe even more importantly you can learn about me from where my stereo can be found. Right now it is sitting amongst papers and odd ends on my desk. Dust is accumulating on it. This reminds me that I don't spend much time in my room lately. I can picture myself on-the-go, swirling the iPod trying to find the right song for the day. 

There are those days where you will find it in the bathroom as I am curling, straightening, or spraying to go out for the night. You might find it down stairs for all my nieces and nephews to dance to when they simply won't sit still. The music follows me and my life. Or maybe I follow it. Whichever way it is,  my stereo says a lot about me. Not everything of course. Not the full song but maybe just the tune.

Essays to Emulate

From the moment I began reading "The American Man at Age 10" by Susan Orlean, I knew it was a piece I wanted to emulate. Her writing was clearly that of an experienced writer, all the while reflecting a young male. Her word choice and pacing allowed us to see that she colored her writing  with the perspective of her interviewee.  Something that I admire in writing is character development. Orlean's dialogue and detailed childhood experiences with Colin Duffy allows us to believe in him--believe he is real. Something I enjoy about reading is that I learn about what other people go through and find that I am not alone in many things that I experience. The vehicle to many reader's hearts is a developed character. That is what I admire most in this piece-- how Orlean makes us fall in love with this little boy, as we read things that make us laugh and things that make us think.

Another essay I loved was "Total Eclipse" by Annie Dillard. I have read some of her other work and I have decided she is a master of detail. Some essays and stories I have read can get heavy with too much "stuff" but I always feel like all that Dillard includes as detail serves a purpose. I have never seen an eclipse but the way she describes this event, I feel like I have. She also has an amazing ability to make the reader in awe of some phenomenon whether it be cosmic, or mental or emotional. I think perhaps because of her intense detail, the readers become so involved as to not be able to escape the world that she creates with her words. A question I would ask Annie Dillard is how she decides what details to include and how much of it if she does.

There are many essays that I have learned from this semester. These two happen to be ones that have stuck out. In order to become better at these two aspects of writing I will need to continue practicing. Hopefully I can incorporate life-like characters and captivating detail in all my writing, not just creative non-fiction. These are just a couple of the lofty goals I have for my future writing.

Love At First Sight

Grandpas love to tell stories. And as my grandpa tells his own love story, he says he knew instantly that he would marry my grandmother. The story he told is now elaborated in the way I like to imagine it.

Waiting in the bus station Forrest hiked up his neatly ironed trousers and flipped through the newspaper. He grumbled about the gloomy events and continued to skim until he heard the bus wheeze to a halt. Folding the paper, he picked up his coat and waited like a gentleman for the pressing line to file onto the bus ahead of him. Everything was typical. Sideways seats, metal handles, and the smiling driver. The bus gave a familiar grumble to life as they pulled away from the station and Forrest began to get comfortable in his seat.

But his desire for comfort left when he saw a fair skinned girl with jet black hair. A blue hat sat on her head and she had a quiet pleasant smile on her face that was looking away from him. Suddenly sitting up right he tried to fidget and cough to get her to turn from the window. Finally after knocking over his own suitcase, she looked at him. He smiled up at her as he bent to set his case right. She smiled back. I am gonna marry that girl. 

Perhaps my grandmother had something for clumsy men or just for my grandpa. Because they were married in February. The day after the wedding he left for WWII. They have been married for over 65 years.