Author: fayceless

Thousand (or so) Word Challenge – Part 2

fayceless Random Thoughts Tags: , 1 Comment

Brooklyn Sunrise

Son, Rise

“I’ve hated you for a long time.  Do you know what that’s like?”  The absence of sound from the room heightened the pitch of everything within it.  As Marcus paused between his thoughts, the monotonous tone from the ECG monitor gave him some resolve that his audience of one was still in attendance.  Seated at the bedside, Marcus felt a tidal wave of emotion as he stared onto a face too familiar to his own.

“We never spoke about you.  Shit, I used to make up stories about who you were just so that I could feel somewhat complete.  And now look at me.”  With too many thoughts running through his mind, Marcus felt himself ready to cry, but he made a promise to himself long ago to never shed a tear about any of this.  Instinctually, he bit his tongue as he’d grown accustom to, to prevent himself from succumbing to sorrow.  Standing up, he walked a few paces around the bed as he tried to collect himself once more.

“Everything was perfect you know. You being this mystery and all.  And then BAM, you show up and change the entire game up.  And what?  What did you expect me to do?  I wasn’t a boy anymore.  It was too late.  Too fucking late to matter.”  Marcus stood at the foot of the bed, staring in anticipation as if expecting some sign of life.  After a few uneventful minutes, he sat back down, and stared off in silence.

A knock on the door stole Marcus away from his thoughts.  Standing in the doorway was a nurse that caught both his attention and his eye.  With a smirk, knowing he was not supposed to be in this room at this time, he rose from the chair to meet her by the door.

“It must have been hard growing up for you.” she said nonchalantly.  Marcus gave a puzzled look, wondering how much of his conversation she had heard.

“Ummm, why do you say that?” he replied

“The kids must’ve teased you with a name like Denise.  Because right here – ,” she pauses as she shows him the list of allowed overnight visitors, “it says that a Mrs. Denise Parker is the only visitor allowed in here right now.”  With a smirk of her own, the nurse stands ready to hear any explanation Marcus had.  Although slightly amused by her sense of humor, everything else about his being there pressed more on his mind than indulging her at that moment.

“Yea, look.  I’m sorry about that.  That’s his wife.”  He points his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the patient he just walked away from.  “She sorta let me take her place for a little while to see him.  Figured it would be good for the both of us.”  As he talks, his gaze drifts from the nurse.  Listening intently and noticing his shift in demeanor, the nurse – Marilyn – deduces that Marcus’ being there had to be very hard for him.

“So then, who are you?” she asks sincerely.  Marcus looks at her momentarily and then slowly bows his head and looks at his feet.  Marilyn looks at him strain to speak, his face giving the appearance of an internal battle as he tries to answer her.

“Marcus, my name is Marcus.  I’m his son.”  With the words finally out, Marcus walks away to return to the bedside.  Seeing his pain, but not knowing why, Marilyn follows him into the room both to complete her chart and to make sure Marcus is okay.  As she fills out her sheet, Marcus sits back down with a conflicted look.  Not knowing whether to interrupt, Marilyn decides to help anyway she can.

“I take it that you two had a hard life together?” she asks, not expecting any type of answer.  Marcus lets out a sigh but never gives her his full attention as he speaks.

“We actually had no life together.  I’m his son, but this guy has never been my father.”  Clasping his hands, he leans forward to stretch his back while he continues.  “I only met him a few months ago for the first time.  Graduated college and got a father as my lifetime achievement award.”  His attempt at humor did nothing to hide his pain.  Marilyn wanted to interject, but it was clear all he wanted to do was talk.

“My whole life I spent conflicted about this dude until one day I just stopped caring.  I made my peace with the cards dealt and played on.  Didn’t need him, ya know.”  A slight visage of anger began to take over his face as he continued speaking.

“Peep this.” he says to Marilyn, but never really bringing her into the conversation she knows he is truly having with his father.  “He shows up, tells me who he is and all that and then stands there like I’m supposed to be so grateful.  Fuck that.  I shook his hand and was like, ‘Nice of you to finally show up, hope the rest of your life is well.’  Twenty-four years of dreaming and imagining that moment and that’s what I end up saying?  And I walked off and we haven’t spoken since.  Denise reached out a few times, especially when this happened.”  As Marcus sat, trying to hold it all together, Marilyn felt powerless to help.  Sensing that she needed to tell him something, she put her clipboard down and rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Marcus, I don’t know you or this situation well at all.  You sound so hurt and so full of regret.”  Her pause allowed for Marcus to react in any way he needed to, but his head stayed buried in his palms.

“Whatever this man has done to you, or hasn’t done for you – I think what’s most important is that despite all of that you are here with him right now.  Life is too precious, too short, to live with the pain of the past holding us back.  I can already see how conflicted you are about all of this.  I don’t know what your goal is, but I would argue that in some way you need to resolve things with him while he is here.  Whether you like it or not, you’re his son.  In order for you to move on with your life, you’re going to need to rise above your pain and accept that.”

The words hit a cord with Marcus as he lifted his head and peered out of the window.  The cresting sun worked to erase all traces of the night and Marcus sat back in the chair as a satisfied Marilyn left him to ponder on her words and whatever thoughts he may have had.

Thousand (or so) Word Challenge Part 1

fayceless Random Thoughts, Short Stories Tags: , 1 Comment

Often I see people partake in these challenges for one reason or another and I have always felt like just doing one for the sake of doing one.  Thanks to an email from my good friend Mike, an idea spurred where I’d create stories based off of pictures I came across.  The old saying “a picture is worth….” sorta became the back-drop for this challenge, but so far I have not been able to land exactly at 1000 words (hovering at ~1100).  So forgive the slight overage.  In any case, I will be using pictures I come across (beginning with some Facebook trolling), so I hope all who read these stories find some joy in them.  Here goes the first entry…..

NYC Train Ride

Daddy’s Girl

With sweat trails racing down his spine, Donovan hurried through the intersection despite the signal telling him to stop.  Each lunge forward sent a shot up his leg that on any other day would’ve caused him to stop his stride, find the nearest bench, and sit there for at least an hour.  But the comfort of that thought had to escape him at this moment.  His watch ticked closer to 6:00pm and he remembers how unforgiving that day care can be.  How unforgiving his finances would be to unintended expenses.

At 5:58pm, the front door to the daycare buzzed open.  The halls, once filled with the voices of eager and energetic children during the morning, were now replaced by the low flickering sounds of the fluorescent bulbs above.  All of the other rooms were dark, except the room at the end of the hall.  Before he made it to the door, the sight of Emily running through the doorway stopped him in his tracks.  As she ran to him with out-stretched arms, Donovan tried his best to kneel down to greet her back.  Standing in front of the door was Ms. Hamilton, one of the other teachers at the daycare.

“She thought you forgot about her, but I told her you would never do that.” she remarked.  With an exhausted smile, Donovan looked over Emily before instructing her to get her things ready to go home.  As she ran back into the classroom, Donovan and Ms. Hamilton took that moment to discuss a few things about Emily.

“She had another episode today.  Her teacher found her crying in the bathroom while the other children napped.”  The news sapped what little joy Donovan had inside of him at the moment.  Watching this little angel flutter from the tables to the cubby hole, he could not help the tear that fought its way from his eye.  Catching himself before Emily looked his way, Donovan quickly wiped the tear away before he spoke back with the teacher.

“Yea, it’s been hard on her with Mother’s Day coming up.  Maybe we will have a talk tonight.” he replied, somberly.  Ms. Hamilton noticed the weary look upon his face as he spoke and placed her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.  Donovan finally looked her in the eye and for the first time since entering the building he actually noticed her.   With his hat in his hands, he quickly broke the eye contact and began fiddling with it.

“You know, we all think given the circumstances that you’ve been doing a fine job with her.”  They both look upon Emily as she struts to the book-way with her duffle bag.

“What’s in the bag?” Donovan asks as Emily slides it behind her with each step.

“Oh, some of us put some things together for Emily to use for next week’s play.”  Ms. Hamilton turns her attention back to Donovan as she looks at him with a ‘I hope you remembered our play next week’ sort of stare.  Donovan returned her silent concern with a smile of reassurance that he did remember.

“Yes.  Next week, I become a star!!”  Emily shouts as she drops the bag and raises her arms into the air.  Donovan and Ms. Hamilton laugh in unison as he reaches down to grab the bag.  He takes her sweater from off the floor and stuffs it into the bag as well.  Donovan and Emily head towards the door as Ms. Hamilton lets them out.  Emily and Ms. Hamilton share a big hug and Donovan gives a wave as the two begin walking towards the subway.

“I’m hungry.”  Emily blurts out, ending the unintentional silence that accompanied their walk.  One block from the subway station was a pizzeria, Emily’s favorite.  Donovan confirmed with her if that was what she was in the mood for and her smile was all the answer that he needed.   As they got in, Emily quickly ran to one of the empty booths and sat patiently as Donovan ordered a few slices.

When Donovan approached the table, he found Emily scribbling on a newspaper.  Looking further, he noticed that she was drawing glasses on the faces of all the men in the various pictures on the page.  Licking his lips, he sat down across from her  and put her slice within her reach.  After saying grace, they both start to eat, Emily concentrating on the page and Donovan staring at her in deep thought.

“What’s on your mind sweetie?” he finally asks, knowing he could not delay speaking with her.  For a few moments, Emily didn’t answer or move.  Donovan wasn’t sure how he should proceed, knowing that one wrong word could set her off.  He continued eating his slice, waiting for her to reply on her own terms.

“I miss her.” she said, finally.  Donovan put the rest of his slice down and got up to sit next to Emily.  As soon as he sat down, she rested her head on him and he could feel the drips of tears hitting is arm.  He held her close as she tried to talk through the tears.

“I miss her so much.  I miss them both.  Why aren’t they here Uncle D?”  At this point she could no longer control her tears and neither could he.  They both sat there in the booth, crying with each other over a shared pain.

“Your parents loved you so much Em.  If life had worked out differently, they would be here with you right now.”  He paused to wipe his few tears away, to appear strong in her eyes.

“But you should know, already they would’ve been so proud of you, the way I am.”  His words made her clutch him a bit tighter.  Donovan let some time pass before motioning that it was time to go.  With the remainder of their slices already boxed, the two headed for the subway to make it home before it got later.

As the train rolled in, they both ran for the corner seat as soon as the door opened.  Once the train moved into the tunnel, Emily propped her feet up on the seat and leaned into her uncle.  Finally comfortable, Donovan opened the paper form the pizzeria and folded it onto the comics section.

“Can I have the basketball section Uncle D?” Emily asks.  With a smile, Donovan hands her the section and she folds it just like he did.

“You know your daddy’s favorite team was the Nets right?” Donovan says.  Focused on the paper, Emily just sits there, staring at the words.