Something to be Proud of (1st Place)

Isaak looked up at the night sky.

“It’s humid,” Jayden stated.

“It’s more like sweltering,” Isaak replied.

“Where’d you learn such a big word?”

“Mama says it sometimes.”

“I ain’t never heard her say that.”

Jayden slipped a cigarette out of his inside jacket pocket, struck a match, and lit it. He took a few puffs. He glanced over at Isaak. He’d usually complain about the smoke.

“Tell me again about Pa.” He rocked back on his chair. The porch boards creaked in the sudden quiet.

“He was a hero. Shot in the last war. He saved three men. Dragged ‘em ten miles to safety with bullets flying everywhere. Them Iraqis are terrible shots. They got lucky.”

“I ask mama. She won’t tell me. She just says ‘He’s dead. There’s no need to dig up the past.”

“She’s just being modest.”

Isaak looked puzzled.

“Means she’s not stuck up. Likes it quiet. Ain’t right to brag.”

“Oh.” Isaak pointed up. “Sometimes I think he’s up there.”

“You’re crazy. He ain’t up there.” The red glow made his face shine.

“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

Isaak opened the door to the dilapidated cabin and tromped inside. A bare light bulb illuminated their room and clicked off. Jayden finished his cigarette and ground it out. He flipped the butt into the weeds.

Gina opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. She sat in the swing. Neither spoke for a minute.

“I know why you tell him that your father is a hero.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“I know.” Her voice trembled. “You don’t want him to feel embarrassed like you were. We’re poor. Your daddy died in a knife fight in prison. We ain’t got nothing else.”

“He’s gotta have dreams. Something to be proud of.”


300 Words
Flash Story Must contain: Sweltering, Humid, Complain