I'm Alive!

           Sorry for the long absence! Here's a short preview from the novel-in-progress:

*****           

           “Why aren’t you at work?”

            “You ain’t nothing but a home-wrecking bitch, Hawkins. Now get out of my way before I make you.”

            Eileen sucked air through her teeth and stepped aside.

            Maura had her back turned to the counter as she dealt with the coffee maker. Scott bellied up to the counter and huffed as he banged his fists on the laminate.

            “Maura, I want to talk to you!” he cried.

            “Hold your horses, the coffee will be ready in –“Maura looked over her shoulder at him. “Oh. It’s you. Can’t it wait until I get back –“

            “No. Now.”

            The diner fell to a hush as he reached over the counter and grabbed her by the left arm. He had almost pulled her whole body over it before she managed to wriggle her way back to the other side. She slid her feet back against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes.

            “Scott…”

            “You listen to me, Maura. I’ve tried being patient. I know you’ve been trying to help your friend get her shit together, but enough’s enough. You need to come home now. You’re gonna be my wife someday. Do you honestly think I’m gonna put up with this kinda shit forever? I think it’s time you stopped playing the martyr and focused on reality for a change.”

'The Scale of Things'

     "You might want to ease up on the desserts for a while, Mo. Looks like you're getting a bit of a gut," Scott says as he eases his way up from the couch. He pauses to gently pat my stomach and plant a quick kiss on my forehead. "Maybe try going for a run in the morning. Love you. G' night."
     "Love you too. Good night." I'm burning up inside as I say it.
     A little while later, I'm standing on the scale after I've taken my shower. Scott expects a report of my nightly weigh-in, and I'm not going to deny him it, as badly as I may want to do so. Looking over my entries from the past few weeks, one thing becomes clear: I have not, in fact, gained weight. If anything, I've likely lost a few pounds from a combination of disgust and his constant nudging-aside of food he considers too fattening for me.
     Watching him over time has taught me a number of things. For one, he's not the type to say no to dessert. Yet, when he sees me walk by with so much as a peppermint, he quietly orders me to spit it out. We wouldn't want to cause a scene in front of his parents, now, would we? And God forbid he be denied that extra stick of beef jerky he gnaws on as an appertif. Wouldn't even dream of it,
     I sigh as I climb into bed and get under the covers. Tying my bathrobe tighter around my waist, I know I'll be fighting the same battle all over again tomorrow.

'No Kids At The Bar'

'No kids at the bar.' 

The bartender looked up from the glass he'd been wiping to give a stern look to the newcomer. A chunky young woman who couldn't have been more than nineteen had just come in and bellied up to the bar, balancing a sleeping child on her hip. She scowled as she leaned in on her free arm. 

'I thought we had a deal, Buck,' she said.

He looked up again and gave her a once-over. Despite her youth, time had not been kind to her. She stared at him with beady, bloodshot eyes as he kept going on with the dishrag.

'You and I had a deal, Carrie,' he said, setting the glass down on the counter. 'That kid, however, is a different story.'

She grumbled as she heaved the girl up on her hip once again.

'I could just go to Derrick's place across town, you know. At least they don't give me trouble, unless I say something...'

Buck froze. Heaving a sigh, he turned around to reach for the cheap whiskey she usually ordered.

'You drive a hard bargain, Carrie,' he said as he poured the booze into the glass in front of him. He shook his head as he slid it across the bar to her. 'Win or lose, the devil always gets your soul in the end.'

"Nobody's Mama": A Vignette (2015)

Another short piece.  

     "Poor little darling," Wanda said as she hugged the little girl tighter to her chest. "She must miss her mama something awful."

     Daddy John said nothing as he looked from Leroy to Wanda and back. Leroy nodded silently and watched his girlfriend coddle the sleeping child without disturbing her once. He gave a sigh and shrugged his shoulders.

     "I'm really sorry, Johnny," he said, kicking at the ground. "I know just how it feels. Wanda can't have kids either, you know."

     Daddy John grunted in response and turned to look at Wanda. She gently rocked Eileen in her arms with a wistful look on her face. He noticed she was moving her lips without saying anything. 

     "I'd never have pegged Wanda as the motherly type, to be honest," he said. 

     "Eh. I don't think she even knew until now," Leroy said. "Having your little girl around must have set her off somehow, I guess."

     "I guess you'll want her back now," Wanda said. Her mascara was running as she nuzzled the little girl's face. "What I wouldn't give for a little angel of my own...Here, take her. If I hold her much longer, I may never be able to let go."

     Daddy John took Eileen in his arms and gently placed her in the car seat, buckling the seat belt over her slight frame. At four years old, Eileen was still somewhat small for her age. 

     He looked back at Leroy and Wanda as he climbed back into the driver's seat. Wanda was dabbing her eyes with one of Leroy's old bandanas as she waved at him.

     "Don't be a stranger, now," she called out as he pulled away. "If you ever need somebody to watch her again...you know who to call."

                                                                *****

     "Get that brat away from me," Carrie said, waving Daddy John away as he attempted to set Eileen down on the couch. "I said, get her away from me!"

     "Aw, come on, Carrie! She hasn't seen you for almost two weeks. She hasn't stopped asking 'Where's Mama?' since you left."

     "Mama? Is Mama home?" Eileen said as she reached towards her mother. "Mama?"

     Carrie took a drag off her cigarette and blew smoke right in the girl's face. "Beat it, kid," she said as Eileen tried to wave the cloud away. "And don't call me 'Mama'. It's Carrie from now on, you got it?"

     "Mama?" Eileen pleaded, her eyes watering from the smoke. "Mama?"

     "Ain't too bright, are you?" Carrie rolled her eyes as she took another drag. "Not Mama, Carrie.Cah-ree. Carrie." 

     "Carrie," the girl repeated, looking up at her mother's face. She smiled earnestly, hoping for a sign of approval. "Carrie!"

     "Uh huh," Carrie said with another eyeroll. "You're learning. Now get out of my face." She waved the girl away with her free hand.     

Carrie had started drinking shortly after the baby died. She sat on the mangy couch in her bathrobe, staring at the blank TV screen, only stopping every so often to shoot daggers with her eyes at the little girl who sat quietly on a throw rug in the middle of the room.

     At four and a half, Eileen knew enough to keep her back turned toward her mother. If she looked her in the eye, Carrie would contort her round, pockmarked face to resemble what Eileen usually only saw in her nightmares. 

    She ran her fingers through the tangled mess of blond hair hanging off her Barbie doll. Looking up, she stole a quick glance at her mother. Carrie's hair was dyed a dull shade of copper and tangled far worse than the doll's.

I'd love to know what you think. - Lee  

"When Eileen Met Maura" (2015)

Just a teaser this time.

        I'd met Maura on the first day of school in the first grade. She was a short, plump girl with red hair in a braid, fidgeting with her overall straps. At recess, she sat against the back wall of the school by herself. 

Scott Farner had been chasing me around the playground, trying to poke me with a stick. I was nearly out of breath by the time I reached the other side of the schoolyard. I fell to my knees at the back walll, looking around to see if he was still after me. She glanced over at me and curled herself up in a ball. 

"Hello," I said, smiling at her. 

"Hi."

"Aren't you bored over here by yourself?" I asked. She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"I'm okay."

"My name's Eileen. Want to be friends?"

"I'm Maura," she mumbled, her knees held up to her face. "Okay, I guess."

I heard a shrill laugh from behind me.

"I gotcha, Hawkins!" Scott cried, poking me in the back with the stick. "You can run, but you can't - oh." He glanced over at Maura. 

"Oh, go away, Scott!" I said, standing between him and Maura. "Go bug somebody else!"

"Who's that, the blob?" he said with a sneer. "Wow, she's fat!"

I looked back at Maura. She was starting to sob.

"Leave her alone!" I said. I got closer to him, ready to push him away. "Go pick on somebody else!"

"You're right," he said, backing off. "She might pop if I poke her with this!" He jabbed stick at me again and ran off.

"Are you okay?" I asked Maura once he was gone. She was sobbing and shaking. "He's just a big bully."

"Uh huh," she said, looking up at me. "Why's he so mean?" 

"I dunno," I shrugged. "He just is." She nodded and looked away again.

I sat with her until the bell rang, letting her follow me back in line. 

I'd love to know what you think - Lee

Work In Progress

     I decided to try something different here. These are the same characters from "Family Portrait", albeit a few years older, told from the perspective of a now 12-year-old Eileen. I'm experimenting with point of view and present versus past tense for a much larger work. This was just one such attempt. 

     I feel Carrie's eyes on me as I sit down on the couch. Her gaze is dull and glassy, but it can still burn. She glares at me from across the room once we're both at each other's eye level. I pray silently for Daddy John to come home soon. 

     In one of those rare instances where God must be listening, I hear the sound of tires squealing as the truck pulls into the driveway.

     Carrie's eyes widen. She turns towards the door and stares, tearing her gaze away from me. I keep my eyes on the floor, not wanting to attract her attention. 

     A car door slams outside. His footsteps are heavy as they crunch on gravel in the driveway. Carrie nearly flies off the couch once she hears the creaking of old wooden boards on the porch.

     She almost pounces on him before he's even in the door. As he tries to enter the house, she backs up a couple feet to give him space. She looks up at him and wrings her hands in front of her. 

     "Oh God, John, it's terrible!" she wails, quickly giving me a dirty look. "How could she do this to me? To us, after all we've done for her?" She throws her arms around him as high as she can reach and sobs into his chest.

     "Calm down, Carrie! I'm sure it's not as bad as you're making it out to be," he says, embracing her gently. She keeps sobbing until he gives her a tight squeeze and finally pries her off of him. "Now, what's the problem?"

     She sniffles and looks up at him, then over at me. "It's... it's not something I want to discuss in front of her," she says as she nods towards me. "Even if it is all her fault."

     "Now, now, there's --" 

     "I don't want to mention it in front of her, John. End of story." She waddles over to where I'm sitting and grabs my chin with one meaty hand. She looks me in the eye.

     "Listen, brat. Daddy John and I need to have a little talk in the kitchen. You stay right here and don't move. Do you understand?" she says through gritted teeth. She moves my head up and down in a forced nod, then pulls her hand away. My jaw hurts for a moment. 

     She turns to Daddy John and heads for the kitchen. He gives me a pitiful look before following suit. I shudder, not wanting to think of what she may tell him once they're alone.

    It's quiet in the kitchen for a few moments, at least until Carrie gets going. Even from the couch, I can hear some of what she's saying. Daddy John says little, probably doesn't get much of a chance to say much anyway. 

     I hear Carrie shouting words like slut, whore, and bastard. Words that, if I said them, would get me slapped across the face and grounded for a month. I don't even have to hear the whole conversation to know she's talking about me. 

     The voices in the kitchen quiet down after a little while. I hear the heavy tread of Daddy John's biker boots, followed behind by the scuff-scuff of Carrie's old slippers. He's staring at his feet as he comes through the door.

     Carrie has a smirk on her face as she waddles out from behind him. She quickly cuts in front of him and makes a beeline towards me. Once she's right in front of me, she reaches out to grab me by the collar of my sweatshirt. 

     She pulls me up to look her in the face. I can smell the sour beer on her breath. She looks me straight in the eye for a second and I pull back, shocked. She grins. 

     "Ooh, are you ever gonna get it," she says, shaking me by the collar like a dog. "I told Daddy John everything you said, and he thinks you deserve an ass-whooping same as I do. Right, John?"

     Daddy John stands just in front of the doorway, looking like he's late for his own funeral. He nods once and stares down at the floor.

I'd love to know what you think. - Lee

"Family Portrait": A Vignette (2015)

      "Hold still, you little bitch," Carrie hissed under her breath. She dug her fingernails into Eileen's shoulder, feeling her tense up in her grasp.

     Eileen attempted to sidle away from her, without success. She could smell the odor of stale beer and cigarettes wafting from her mother's body. Carrie turned to grin at her, showing a mouthful of crooked, yellow teeth. 
     "Come on, pumpkin, smile for the camera," she said, digging her nails in deeper. 

     Eileen yelped and faced front, tracing the gap where her two front teeth had formerly been with her tongue. She looked up and gave a closed-lip smile.
     "Ready, ladies?" Daddy John asked as he clapped a hand on each of their shoulders. Carrie grunted as she loosened her grip on her daughter. 
     "Say cheese!"
     The flash went off before either of them could react. 
     *****
     "I look awful in this picture!"
     "You do not! It's a lovely photo. You were just caught off guard, is all."
     Carrie wrinkled her nose as she looked over the print-out. Her lips curled down into a sneer when she noticed her daughter's expression.
     "Eileen, get your ass over here now!"The girl had been eyeing a large display of Christmas-themed teddy bears and Barbie dolls when she heard the call.
     "Carrie?" She was still unable to look away for a moment.
     "Listen to me when I'm talking to you!" A loud, hard smack to the side of her head nearly knocked Eileen to the floor. She was still reeling when Carrie grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her off to the side. 

     "You listen to me now, you little brat. You ruined our picture by making faces at the camera. What do you think you are, a monkey? You already look enough like one without even trying."

     Eileen whimpered as her mother kept tugging at her hair.
     "Hey Carrie, I'm ready to - Oh my God, Carrie, what are you doing to that poor girl?" Daddy John had had his back turned to them as he paid for the pictures. His eyes widened as he watched the scene unfold."Just let her go, for Christ's sake!"
     Carrie snorted and let go of the small handful of hair still clutched in her fist, dropping Eileen to the floor.
     "You stay out of this, John. This is between me and my daughter." 
     "No. She didn't do anything wrong. She's just a kid. She can't always help how she acts." 
     Carrie's eyes narrowed as she glared at her husband.
     "Is that so? If that's the case, then I guess I can't always help how I act, either," Carrie said. She reached down for Eileen and grabbed at her hair with both hands. "Isn't that right, pumpkin?" Eileen howled as her mother kept tugging on her unruly curls.

     "I'm only gonna say it one more time. This doesn't concern you. It's between me and my daughter only," said Carrie. "Now stay out of it, or it's just gonna hurt her even more."
     Eileen yelped again and reached for her mother's hands as she tried to pull them away. Carrie only snarled and slapped at her fingers.

I'd love to know what you think. - Lee