The Snowflake Chronicles

Making the abstract concert

Lesson 6 Part 1 – Prosperous Snow
Written in June 2009
Character

My father was quiet.

I watched Dad and Uncle Charlie unload lumber from the bed of the 1959 Ford pick-up. As usual, Uncle Charlie was talking fast as a streaming download coming over a cable modem. Periodically Dad would stop and rub his chin with his right hand and then nod or shake his head at something Uncle Charlie was saying. Dad always held conversations the same way, the only difference in a conversation between Dad and Uncle Charlie or Dad and anyone else, was that Uncle Charlie received more head shakes then nods.

She's always hostile.

Clara sit in the first row, staring down at the assignment the instructor had just lain in front of her. She could feel the missiles Tranquility Harris shot at her and everyone in the biology class penetrate her brain and blow away all hope of peaceful co-existence. Oh, well, she thought drawing a biohazards sign on the paper; I suppose one F isn’t going to hurt my GPA too much. Getting out of the chair, she picked up her books and headed toward the back of the room to introduce herself to her lab partner.

My grandfather was/is crazy.

The entire family, whether related by blood or marriage, knew the Mc Candles family secret. We just didn’t talk about it, about Grandpa Paddy, outside the doors of our own homes. Of course, once he started walking down the middle of Main Street wearing nothing but a pair of purple Crocs and carrying a gold tipped walking stick, the whole town found out. I will say this; the police department and even the highway patrol – yes, sometime Grandpa Paddy walks down the middle of Interstate 15 wearing his Crocs – are very nice on these occasions. The officers have even started carrying bathrobes in their cars for Grandpa to wear home.

Momma hated sinners.

I never met Momma’s sister Chastity, until Grandma Sadie’s funeral. All I knew about Aunt Chastity and her quote unquote husband, as Momma referred to Jake, was that they lived in Las Vegas. Aunt Chastity strutted into the funeral home wearing a black leather mini skirt, black lace teddy, bustier, black net stockings and two inch spiked heals. Jake was dressed a bit more conservative, he wore a man’s mink coat and a black Stetson. They sat down beside Momma and Momma scooted to the far end of the pew. She fixed her volcanic stare on them shaking her head all the way through the funeral service.

She/he was un-happy.

Rodger sat in his cubical staring at the naked beige walls. He could hear the click clack of Lena’s keyboard in the next cell. He could hear her humming the Battle Hymn of the Republic as she worked. It won’t do me any good to complain, he thought, I’m the only one in this office who finds her kids’ cereal attitude offensive. Getting up, he walked to the door and growled good morning to Larry, the mailroom cleric, as he delivered the day’s postal droppings to each prisoner.

He was mean.

I remember Karl; we went to high school together. I think what stands out most in my mind is the date he arranged between Joy and Franz. The day after the date, Joy asked Franz why he had stood her up. Franz looked surprised when Joy, eyes scarlet and swollen, confronted him. Karl was standing beside me at the time. You could hear Karl’s laughter echoing through the halls, as Joy ran toward the exit. I found out later, that Karl sent Joy notes, signed with Franz’s name, for a week before the supposed date.

I love the city.

Inhale the air, can’t you just smell the perfume of diesel in the morning. Listen to the symphony played by the wheels of Kais, Toyotas, Fords, Chevys, and the CAT buses, as Las Vegas wakes up and stretches. This is an internal city, where I can have fried eggs sunny side up, with grits, crisp bacon and coffee for breakfast. At I can have Peeking Duck and Wonton soup for lunch. Then for supper I can eat Jalapeño Poppers and fried ice cream.