The formatting in this entry sucks. Deepest apologies.
15minuteficlets word #109. Seth-centric. G. 255 words with very little meaning. Word under the cut.
The word was young.
When Seth was younger, he used to follow Rosa from room to room, begging her to teach him Spanish while she cleaned. “Why, child?” she’d ask. “Shouldn’t you be playing with your friends or something?” When she noticed the way he’d look away, she stopped asking and started teaching. “¡Ay, dios mio, Seth! Alright, alright.” And immediately she’d start chattering in rapid Spanish, watching the look of amazement on his face.
“Rosa, you know I don’t understand you!”
“Sí , sí. Alright. We’ll start slow, then.” She’d pick up a stray Bic pen lying on the kitchen counter next to the newspaper, debris from Sandy’s attempts to fill in the crossword puzzle. She’d hold it in front of his face. “What’s this?”
“A pen.”
“En españ ol, muchacho.”
“Oh. Um. A… pen-o?”
She’d make a noise like a buzzer. “Wrong! Es un boligrafo.” She’d say it slow, repeat it. “Bo-lee-gra-fo.”
Seth would nod, wide-eyed. “Boligrafo.”
They’d repeat the process for other objects. There were verbs, nouns, phrases, too. Rosa appreciated it because it made the work less mundane. Seth appreciated it because he had a friend.
And, several years later, he appreciated it more because when in eighth grade, Summer needed a Spanish tutor, Señora Anderson recommended that she talk to Seth because while several students boasted a perfect average in the class, Seth was the one to whom it seemed to come with the least effort.
Plus, when nothing was on English TV, he understood the telenovelas. Turned out, they were better, anyway.
For Tatertots370. PG. 235 words. About a month after The Dearly Beloved. Sethummer, of course. Prompt words: post-it note, cell phone, polar bears, chicken.
Seth’s cell phone buzzed against his hip. He removed his feet from the coffee table, squirmed around on the couch to dig his hand into his pocket and retrieve it. Checking the Caller ID, he smiled. “Hey, Summer. Would you believe that the most interesting thing on TV is a Discovery Channel special on polar bears? And that includes TiVo.”
“After what happened last month, I’d believe anything.”
Seth went quiet.
“I’m sorry. So… how’s everyone holding up on your end?”
“Ryan’s doing better. So is Dad. So am I, really. Amazing what therapy will do.”
Summer chuckled half-heartedly.
“So how are you?” Seth asked, wandering into the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge, closed it, ran his fingers along the counter.
“I’m actually doing pretty alright…” Summer’s voice faded away as he twirled the yellow slip of paper in his fingers. “…Cohen? Seth?”
“What?” Seth was jolted out of his reverie.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I just… I found a post-it note with my mom’s handwriting on it. I think she must have wanted to make chicken the night of the intervention… I guess it’s a good thing we intervened, huh?” His voice broke at the end, a tear spilling down his cheek. “I can’t believe I left last summer. And now she’s gone. It’s just- I’m so-”
“I know you miss her, baby. Hang tight, okay? I’m coming over.”
And remember, kids, the offer still stands: You prompt it, I write it.