Thursday, October 08, 2009
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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
5 comments:
Thomas and Lance
“Hey! You know where I could find the club?”
Lance, looked back, a bit bewildered to see a man standing there. Lance’s gold medallion flashed in the sun, nestled in a forest of wiry grey hairs.
“It’s up there a ways. I can walk you up,” Lance hesitated. He knew that if he told this guy he’d been the pro up there, he might pity him. Instead, he turned the subject to the weather.
“Looks like it might rain.”
“Ah, yes, guess so. Haven’t been paying too much attention to the weather lately . . .” Thomas looked at this watch. Did he really have time for a game? Things had been pretty mixed up the past few days.
“You’re not from around here are you?” Lance ventured. “It’s a bit down in the mouth these days. Tennis isn’t as popular as it once was.” True, nowadays you could get a court easily. Gone were the days when waits were commonplace.
But Thomas had just punched the speed dial on his cell phone and was already holding it to his ear, feeling irritated by the chummy old guy walking beside him.
Lance and Jane
“Hey!” Calls out the old man riding on his 1964 powder blue Cadillac convertible. “Are you free around nine tonight?”
“C’mon old man!” Replies the young lady, wearing a nurse outfit, while walking on the side walk. “Are you sure your flag can still stick up?”
“Why don’t you try it?”
“Pick me up at the Bear Pub ‘round nine.” She says, grinning. “Don’t forget to drink your Viagra!”
It is only six in the afternoon. The sun is shining low and the sky is on fire. The wind is cold and yet the old man , confident that his suit is enough to keep him warm, zooms along the boulevard, drives like a maniac—beats red lights—and acts like a college junkie.
Lance is a has-been. He won Wimbledon for Christ’s sakes. He was huge back then. But it was a lifetime ago (about forty years or so). No one knows him now. His only fan is his grand-daughter, which he haven’t seen for two years, since her daughter moved to Toronto. His empty apartment is choking him, suffocating him. It is empty; it is quiet—he is alone. He stares at mirror, and imagine his prime. It’s long been gone. His masculine physic has vanished. His skin is now sagging as if it is detaching from him. The countless lines on his face is a reminder that’s his time is almost over. The only thing that remains of his glorious youth are his trophies. He looks at them, everyday, like it is the first time he’s seen them. He looks at clock, it is thirty pass eight.
The pub is almost empty, just a couple of young men playing billiards, and an old drunk man—about Lance’s age—on the bar, talking to a girl wearing a nurse outfit.
“Hey!” The young woman says, as soon as she’s seen Lance enters the door. “That leather looks good on you, Pops. You look a year younger.”
“Thank you,” Lance says. “Want to go to my place?”
“Not too fast.”
“I don’t feel comfortable here.”
“Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?” Adds the drunk man on the bar. “You think your too good for this joint?”
“No, that’s not it, I . . .
“You think your freaking big time don’t you?” Says the drunk man, while standing up.
. . . have asthma.”
“O.K now, you stay on your chair Bob,” says the young lady. “Did you bring your car, old man?”
“Yes, I did,” replies Lance.
“Don’t go with that prick, Janey,” says the drunk man. “He looks like an old pervert.”
“C’mon, Bob, you know better than that. You know that my job is to give pleasure to men like him.”
“Up to you, Janey.”
“Let’s go, Pops,” says Janey, and holds Lance’s hands. “Let us make you young again.”
Both Lance and Crystal , superficially concerned with only their exterior facade ,Lance pulls the old 64cad to the curb as Crystal shimmies her stuff down Rodeo Drive ,at a quick glance,Lance may look like a pretty good suger daddy, Crystal gives him a second look , thats all it took for Lances ego to scream,"She wants me"....Both characters are in for one big disappointment ..
-Our Character Meet: What happens?
There she was sitting at the bar, sipping a cocktail and looking shyly. And, here comes Jane, tiring from her work. She seems to looking for a chair to sit, and she sat down next to Crystal.
“A cold beer, please. Aw… what’s wrong, honey?”
“A cold beer was my Benny’s favorite thing. . .”
“Oh. . . why don’t you call him?”
“He cheated on… ME!!”
“Oh. . . poor you. Well, sweetie. . .All men cheat somehow. ”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. . .” wiping the mascrara on her face.
“Who, me? You don’t know me? Well, that’s a shocker. . . Isn’t that right?” Jane winking to a bartender.
“Well, sorry. . . But I don’t know you, and. . .”
“You are not from here, right.?”
“. . .”
“Well, that’s ok. . . honey. Jane’s the name and what’s yours?”
“Um, I’m Crystal.”
“Well, nice to meet you. . .”
“Um, yeah. . . nice to meet you, too”
There they were, talking and drinking. And who knows, someday Jane will teach Crystal how to tame men.
Thomas sat alone in the darkened pub. People milled all around him. Most of them apparently friends reconnecting, co-workers re-hashing the day's grind with each other, or people just there to blow off some steam. "I'm beginning to think that I live here, " he thought to himself. "I really should know some of these people on a first name basis by now."
He let his gaze scan the familiar room. He saw one person who stuck out like a sore thumb. Thomas chuckled to himself, "What's that old guy doing here? And what era is he from?" The older man was standing at the bar, talking up a young lady. His hair was obviously dyed jet black and his wardrobe was ridiculous: a light blue John Travolta disco suit with his shirt wide open to display a gawdy gold medallion on his chest. "Gross!" thought Thomas. "He actually thinks he can pick her up? Dream on buster! Pick on someone your own jurassic period!" Thomas watched the old man trying to pour on the charm for a few moments more, much to the distaste of the young lady. "That's it, enough's enough, " Thomas said as he got up from his table and walked over to the two of them. It would be a good diversion to take his mind off his own troubles.
As he walked up between the old man and the girl, he said affectionately with a big grin on his face, "Hi, honey! I'm so sorry I'm late!"
The girl looked suprised for a moment but then quickly caught on. "Oh, that's alright. I haven't been waiting too long, " she came up with hastily.
Thomas kept smiling. "Look, there's a table for us over there, " he offered. She gladly accepted, and they walked to his table.
As they sat down, she said, "Oh my God, thank you so much for coming to my rescue! That was very kind of you!"
Thomas smiled warmly at her and said, "No problem. It was getting too painful for me to watch." They both laughed.
"What's your name? " she asked him.
"Thomas. Thomas Rush, " he replied, extending his hand to shake hers.
"Well, very nice to meet you, Thomas, " she said. "I'm Crystal." Their meeting was the first pleasant thing to happen to each of them in a long time.
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