She started drinking to get back at him for having an affair. He always said that ladies didn't drink alcohol, especially not straight from a bottle under the sink. He didn't come home, though, one night, and in the morning, a lady wearing sunglasses dropped him off in front of the house.
Eloise and I were playing army guys on the floor while mom stared at the television with the volume turned down. "What's the matter?" Eloise asked. Mom made a movement with her hand, like she was shooing something away.
"Your cigarette is burned down," I said. "It's going to fall all over the carpet."
My mom looked at me like she didn't recognize me, and then she dropped her cigarette, butt and all, right onto the patterned rug that grandma passed down to her. She ground it right in to the fibers with the toe of her shoe. Eloise gasped and looked at me with her mouth hanging open. We weren't even allowed to eat in here.
That's when we heard the sound of a car door slamming. We might not have heard him until he was coming up the porch steps if we hadn't been shocked into silence by mom's disregard for the rug. We ran to the window and peered through the curtains.
"Asshole," mom whispered. Eloise gave me that look again, her eyes big and round.
Dad opened the door and set his lunchbox down. My sister said, "Here come the fireworks."
I thought so, too. I thought mom was going to go crazier than a rabid dog; but she didn't. She didn't say anything except, "Clean those toys up when you're done," and walked into the kitchen and pulled open the cabinet under the sink.
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This is my entry in this week's Trifecta Writing Challenge. The deal is that you have to write a story, using 33-333 words, using the third definition of a given word. This week's word was fireworks.
Liquid fireworks this time. I love the idea that ladies are the only ones that shouldn't be drinking straight booze from under the sink. And I love how she lashes back at him by doing just that.
ReplyDeleteThanks for linking up with us again. Don't forget to come back tomorrow for the new challenge.
There's a feeling of restraint throughout this whole piece that I really like. Well, restraint and passive-aggressiveness. The drinking, of course, and the cigarette, but especially that last paragraph. I love the authenticity of the narrator's voice, too - so believable. Fantastic.
ReplyDeleteThis is rough. You've created a strong scene here, in short order. Grounding the cigarette into the carpet lets the reader know mom has had it. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThis story is gritty. It gets to the depths of despair in an amazingly few words. It feels so real that I wonder if there's any hope. Very well written.
ReplyDeleteI love how the fireworks here are so understated -- she's reacting strongly but quietly at the same time.
ReplyDeleteMy Mom got like that. Not drunk. But so passive aggressive that it hurt. I preferred fireworks. I could fight along with the fireworks. They wanted to yell at each other? Buddy, I was right there yelling with them. Mom refused to argue? WTF? I never ever preferred that method, but it feels so very real here.
ReplyDeletethe blatant disregard for the sanctity of her mother's carpet couldn't have shown better the ire and disdain the mother felt.
ReplyDeleteand to be silent is a worse punishment than any word that could be said.
Captivating. And I don't say that often or lightly. I love finding great writers on the net. :)
ReplyDeleteThis truly hits close to home. Frighteningly so. Brings back some memories of a small girl listening and watching as chaos reigned. What a strong, visual piece. Excellent.
ReplyDelete