writing

The Feud: Chapter II

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The Student

            “You were best friends?” Calvin asked unsure if Gus was setting up a punchline for a joke.

            Gus merely nodded and squinted his eyes.  “Can you believe it?”

            Judging from the way the two had acted since their arrivals, Calvin could honestly say he did not.

            “Let’s just say,” Gus smiled, “there isn’t as much criteria for a ten-year old.” He folded his arms, “that comes later,” he thought about it, “with experience.”  He folded his arms and leaned back in the chair clearly proud at his wisdom.

            Calvin shrugged.  That sounded fairly logical.  He could hear Nurse Clementine’s voice from her post at the desk down the hall and leaned forward.  “So, what happened?” he asked wanting to get to the bottom of this feud before she discovered him doing what she referred to as “unnecessary hovering”.

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The Feud: Chapter I

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The Nursing Home

              “Have you checked on room 1211?” Nurse Clementine asked without looking up from the clipboard she was studying.  As always, her readers rested on the bottom of her nose but never slipped off the tip. A feat that always impressed Calvin just a little bit.  He rolled his eyes at her request but tried to cover his initial reaction by answering quickly, “No ma’am.”  Even though the older nurse wasn’t looking he knew she still could sense his attitude by the way she her lips pushed together.  When he still didn’t move, she looked up and cocked an eyebrow at him.  That was worse than a lecture or a verbal lesson any day.  That was her way of saying, ‘best get on it’ combined with ‘don’t make me tell you again.’

            He suppressed the urge to sigh and stood up. “Right on it,” he said forcing any bitterness from his voice.  Nurse Clementine ran a tight shift and the last thing he wanted was to get on her bad side which was so easy for him to do.  She had been a night nurse supervisor at the nursing home longer than the current manager had been alive and was granted some allowances managing the staff other supervisors didn’t get.  She was the default superior that everyone looked to including the manager although that was done discretely.  If her word got back to management about any unruly staff that staff usually was gone by the next shift.  “There is no room here for bad nurses,” Nurse Clementine often said.  

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Story Behind the Post: The New Seasons

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When I decided to simplify my life and only do weekly posts, I had to decide if I wanted to keep doing 5-part short stories during the months with 5 Wednesdays (switched from Saturdays). I decided, yes, I will keep at it for a while anyway. The first 5-Wednesday month was in April which seemed like plenty of time for me to prepare a story. If you know me, you know that isn’t my style. I was plagued with my usual writer’s block until the 11th-hour. But inspiration came from real events. I should say, real events mostly. Real events with a little modification and a whole lot of what-if.

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The New Seasons: Chapter V

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The New Season

            After my initial disclosure to grandma and mom and receiving that warm grandma hug I gained even more confidence to expand my circle. I took mom and grandma downstairs and showed them everything I had stockpiled.  Grandma was impressed.  Mom was a little worried at the cost but grandma just waved her hand at her.

            “You’ve been busy,” grandma said.

            I smiled.  “You have no idea.”  I took a deep breath because I knew the time had come to show someone my shed in the back.  I almost didn’t want to because it had been my private place for so long.  But I knew I needed to do this to truly expand my circle. 

            I led them back up the stairs.  Even though it was technically winter we just needed light jackets outside which we were still getting used to.  They followed me through the backyard.  We walked the little pathway to the back of the garage.  I showed them how to get through my wall of dry weeds I had set up as a barrier and then we stepped into the little clearing with the shed.  Of course, they knew about the shed but it had been a while since either of them were back there.  Mom took note of the hole I had dug for fuel storage and raised her eyebrows. 

“Storage,” is all I said and shrugged my shoulders. 

Grandma’s face broke into a delighted smile and she clapped her hands together when she saw my garden of onions and carrots.  They walked around a little bit inspecting my work.  I had spent so much time working in the area that the whole ground around the shed was clear of weeds and obviously a place often visited.

            They looked at each other as I opened the padlock on the shed door and opened it. I didn’t tell them what was inside but gestured for them to step in.  They slowly did and to say they were surprised is a bit of an understatement.

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The New Seasons: Chapter III

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Autumn

            I truly became hyper-focused on my little covert well project.  I mean, how could I possibly ignore working on it when I spent so much time thinking about it?  Doing some kind of action was the only time my racing thoughts slowed down. Which means that despite the near crippling heat, I continued to work on my hidden well.  So much so, that when I finally drew my first little bit of water out, I had mixed feelings.  Sure, I was elated my hard work had given me a feat and that I – me of all people – constructed something that worked.  And I did it by following some diagrams and watching a few YouTube videos.  But a part of me felt a tinge of disappointment because now what would I focus on?  Also, there was the fact that since I had been so successful in hiding my efforts, there was not one person to share my accomplishment with. I thought of Stuart again and felt a new wave of guilt that I lied to him at that last meeting.  I should probably let him know what I had accomplished because of his guidance. 

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The New Seasons: Chapter II

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Summer

            I didn’t understand a lot of Stuart’s handouts he gave me but I found a couple helpful.  One had a simple diagram of what a backyard well should look like and a list of tools I needed.  For tools, I knew the first place to look: my grandparent’s shed.  It was at the back of their property behind the garage and fairly hidden from the growth of trees.  There was an old alley that was hardly accessed on the other side of the fence which opened up to some undeveloped area on the other side.  We always referred to this as “grandma’s desert” and I used to play there when I was younger.  I could drive down the alley and park my truck, and climb over the old chain link fence to get to the shed.  That way, I could avoid both my grandma and my mom who lived with her and wouldn’t have to explain to anyone why I was interested in the shed.  Or get a fresh round of mocking. I assumed my grandma hadn’t been to this side of her property since grandpa died.  The lock was rusted so I picked up a large rock and broke it.  As I was rummaging through what was left of tools, I realized this would make an excellent cover for a well.  On my first visit, I tore up the floor and threw any unnecessary tools into the back of my truck to make room inside the shed that was about to become a well.

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The New Seasons: Chapter I

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Spring

            It had been a mild winter. 

There had been mild winters before but not like this.  That is to say, in my 25 years of existence, I could remember times of drought.  But even during those dryer years we still received some snow. Maybe most of it came toward the end of winter but eventually there were a few decent snowstorms.  The mildest winters typically meant some water restrictions in late summer, but we always made it from winter to winter. To say we were going to have a dry, brown summer this year was an understatement.  There had been exactly one night of snow back in November over the Thanksgiving weekend.  It didn’t even accumulate enough to get the snow shovels out.  And then nothing really.  Maybe one or two days of rain here and there but nothing to really saturate the ground or top off our water supply.

            Everyone waited all winter.  Most enjoyed the warmer than normal weather.  Some started worrying.  And a few started doing some figuring.

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You bring feeling to my life (not necessarily good feeling)

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I admit, for me it is not always an easy task to come with something to write about. Most of the time, I need a little inspiration to get the ideas flowing. Inspiration can and has come from a variety of sources. It could come from a general situation or an observation I made. It also most certainly can come from a specific person. Many people have been unwitting muses for me. A lot of them good and positive. A few of them, well, let’s just create a category and call them a venting muse. In other words, they inspire me to write out my frustration and grievance instead of, you know, confronting them.

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A New Shift

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I started this little blog at the end of March 2011. At that time, the primary purpose of my blog was to serve as an outlet for my writing. I am the person that always had these little pieces of paper everywhere I went with thoughts written down. This seemed to be a natural course even though I didn’t really understand what I wanted to say. I just knew I had something to say. And to be honest, I thought I had something so worth saying that people were going to love my writing.

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My masterpiece

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There was a good stretch of a few years, that I had a daily goal to write 20 minutes a day. It was mostly fluff stuff but it was still something I actually did. A goal I actually accomplished and me and goal fulfillment has not always been a thing. I filled up a couple of small thought notebooks and probably shared most of my writings on this blog. Then one day, I stopped writing in my little book on a daily basis. Mainly because I didn’t feel like I was improving any so why bother? One day became two which became a week, a month, and a few months without writing daily. I just don’t write things down like I used to. I would not declare it a tragic loss but rather just life moving downstream with different goals and agendas prioritized.

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