Give it 100: Turning 100 songs into flash fiction or short stories. No timeline |
Name: Kathryn J. Young Age: 36 “Oh, for pity’s sake, why do they need all this useless information for a stupid job? There is no earthly reason they need to know what I look like.” Kate pushed the application form away. She did not need any special training for her sales job in the fish market. She only wanted something different because she no longer considered the innuendos funny and the jabs were starting to get to her. When she first got in the business, she could give it as good as she got. Lately, it the comments seemed to be tinged with a meanness that bordered harassment. Leaning back into the long straight lines of the wood of the chair back, Kate pushed her arms over her head accompanied by a slow vocal yawn. Kate pulled the application back toward her. Selling cars would be better than selling fish. But first, she needed to something to ease the dryness that was caking her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Pushing back from the table, Kate spied a long neck peeking out of a sack she had hidden under her table. She pulled out the half empty bottle of wild cherry brandy and admired the pink label, “Oh, I am so happy I found you, I had forgotten all about you.” Kate knew how to appreciate the first taste of her favorite beverage. She would start out with a finger of the brandy in a tall glass and top it off with diet Coke. She might even add one or two ice cubes if she had them. She would inhale the scent of the beverage, swirl it a time or two to watch it hug the edge of the glass, before taking a sip and letting the liquid linger on her tongue before letting it trickle down her throat. After that, the law of diminishing returns kicked in. She drank it in fast, thirsty gulps. It usually took five or six drinks to numb the pain of this life that she led. Kate walked to the window with glass in hand to watch the sun begin its rise to start a new day. Maybe she should not be drinking so early in the day. Then again, what difference did it make? The first rays of the Sunday morning sun landed on the pictures of her three boys. She put the empty glass down to pick up the picture of her son, Warren. She had the same tearful conversation with the image in the picture each time she looked at her boy. “Oh, my son, I wish you were here with me now. Why did they take you away from me? They said I was unfit. I never had a chance to prove them wrong. So many times I wish I would have stayed in Australia with your dad. Our life would have been different. Why did mom and dad take you all away from me? Why couldn’t they love me? All I ever wanted was to just be loved.” Kate replaced the picture on the ledge, and then dragged her palms under her eyes and under her nose. “Whew, sorry boys. I didn’t want you to see your old mom cry.” As she tapped her fingers on her hips, she contemplated the empty glass. Should she or should she not? She would answer the call of the pink label. She really loved her adult version of Cherry Coke. “Love always wins, doesn’t it?” Kate cooed at her glass on the journey back to the love of her life. Kate’s careful measurements for the love potion were interrupted by the phone ringing. “Oh, bother. Hello? Do you know what time it is?” “Mom, it’s me, Warren.” Kate clutched her heart. Warren called her ‘mom’. “Hi, honey. I’m so glad you called. Surprised and happy. How are you, son? There must be something serious – do they know you are calling? Are they forcing you to call? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Are you okay?” “Mom, he hit me. Hard. He says I am turning into you and is threatening to send me to a military school in Wisconsin. Wisconsin! Mom!” Kate caught and held her breath. He usually called her Kate or Mama Kate. And this was the third time he called her ‘mom’. Such a sweet joy to have him call her Mom. Kate resisted the urge to laugh. “What did you do? Have sex with a girl?” “How did you know?” “Actually I was just trying to be funny. I didn’t expect to be right. Do you love her?” “Yeah, mom. I really do. I know we should have waited, but it just seemed so right.” If the phone had a cord, she would have been fiddling with it. She had to settle for twirling a pen between her fingers. “I know. That’s the way it was with me and your dad. He stayed in Australia and I had to stay with my parents. I wish I could have afforded to take care of you by myself, I just couldn’t. Not then. You were named after your dad, you know? That’s how much I loved him.” “Mom, I don’t care. I don’t want to go.” Kate could not speak. If she did, she would have said something nasty to him and she needed to hear his voice even if he was rude. She was almost afraid to ask, “Did they say when they would send you away?” “No. Damn, I hear them coming. They will probably take my phone away now. Mom, you have to help me.” “Honey, my job is in Denver. It’s not anything special, but I like it most of the time. I can’t start over up there – not with them holding a club over my head. “I can handle Denver. Mom, you have to help me.” “Warren, if it makes a difference, it will not be a military school. It will be more of an alternative job training program. At least that’s what he did to me. You see how well that worked, but it was cheaper than putting up with me, so I was gone.” “Mom –“ “I’ll be up there as soon as I can. We’ll figure something out. Good-bye.” “Bye. Thanks, Mom.” Kate fondled the job application one last time. With a satisfied giggle, it was soon ripped into shreds. Kate dumped the brandy down the sink, and with a triumphant toss, the bottle landed in her recycle bin. Kate moved down the hall to her left to where her bathroom and bedroom were located. She needed a shower, and she needed to clean out the second bedroom. It would be a little embarrassing putting all these bottles out for recycling, but today was a new start. Warren called her ‘mom’. Everything was manageable now. It only took a few hours to get the room cleaned out. There was nothing in it that she needed to keep. The old magazines, bottles, broken gadgets, all went in the trash. She had the bed made and the closet emptied in less than an hour. She hummed If I Only Had a Brain as she practically floated down to the laundry room. All of the closed in mustiness would be washed out of the bedding, curtains, and clothing. It needed to be fresh smelling. It was a little cold to have the windows open, but the freshness of the cold November rain would hopefully replace the staleness that still lingered. By noon, Kate was packed, the apartment was in reasonable order, and she had a call into her boss to let him know that she had a family emergency and needed three days out of state. “Kate, why do you always pick our busiest time to pull this trick?” “It’s not a trick. I wouldn’t call on a Sunday if it were not an emergency. I have three months' sick and vacation time. Do you want to give me my five days or do I take my three months and quit outright?” “You said three days!” “Do I get my –“ “Five days. I need you for the holiday push, though.” “I might be able to come up with some seasonal help to make up for the no notice.” “Yeah, yeah. Don’t do anything stupid.” Dan ground out. He liked to think he sounded so tough. Kate had to smile. That was her boss’s way of telling her to be safe. “Okay. Don’t stand under Tony’s Deck. He spits.” “I’ll wear a hardhat …. Well, bye.” He has spoken so quickly and hung up on her so fast that she did not know if he even heard her say, “Thanks. Bye.” Kate replaced the phone and took one last stroll through all the rooms to make sure everything was shut off and to set the onion jars out. She learned that trick from Dan. Every week he put a fresh cut onion in a jar in his office. His office never smelled like fish or bad body odor because of that simple little trick. It should work to get rid of the last bit of rancidness that she had ignored for so long because she just did not care. With the last tasks accomplished, Kate pulled the third book from the third shelf and turned to page 66. Flipping through the envelope, she counted $519.00. It would be enough to get her to Montana – to her sons. She would have to change her hiding spot now that she no longer felt like the spawn of Satan, the moniker put on her by her favorite son when he thought she abandoned him. Now he would know the truth. Tucking the money envelope in the inside breast pocket of her alpaca lined jacket, and replacing the Bible on the bookshelf, Kate was ready to stand up to her parents and take back her boys, well, at least the ones that wanted to break free. She knew enough law to know that the boys were old enough to choose and knew her parents well enough to know they were too selfish to finish a fair fight. With bags in hand, Kate took one last look at the room as the mid-afternoon sun started casting shadows instead of brightness to the space, she smiled at the pictures of her sons. “Soon, my loves. Soon.” |