Waiting until the weekend to catch up, I think
Thanksgiving is so cloooose.
[2012.11.13][1693][20560]
“I’ll see you tomorrow, I think I need a nap.” Beth suppressed another yawn. “I thought I’d fall asleep during dinner, actually.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to it, girl.” Carly made some humming noises. “Sleep now and keep on sleeping. You need to catch up.”
Beth hung up on Carly and put down the cell phone. She jerked herself down into a sleepign position. Idly considering pulling off her socks and more of her clothes, she discarded those plans because they required getting up and off of the bed. Her eyes closed.
Waking at the library, she sees Mason. His blonde hair looks like a mop because he’s gone so long without a haircut. His blue eyes shine and he’s laughing as he usually does when she falls asleep over Accounting homework. Its not her fault that the words on the page blur dangerously. They all turn into gibberish.
“Put your head down and take a nap. I’ll wake you in fifteen.” He pats her on her shoulder.
For a moment, she glances down at the page, at strange twisting equations and long paragraphs.
And then she has her hand on her head. She’s reclining in her room. Lazy and tired, she gazes out the window to the grey skies above. Rain is either on the way or has already passed. Outside of her room, she can hear the raised voices of her Dad and Sam. Where was her mother? She sees that the rain is falling now, falling near to her and she blinks.
She’s listening to guitar in the auditorium of the high school. Mom gently snores, leaning against Beth’s shoulder. Father is awake, but barely. Sam is nowhere in sight. After a moment, Beth realizes that Dad is only awake because he’s angry, because none of them know where Sam is or how he is doing, but they’re all there to support Sam and Sam is there to support her school and no one is happy.
Her eyes must have closed because the heat of summer is making her sleepy behind the elementary school. She’s sitting there staring while Carly throws rocks in the center of the parking lot. She’s wearing what she wore in the library, and they’re both adults, Carly is in an outfit Beth remembers from high school: a short black skirt and a red tank top. One rock at a time flies to the center of the parking lot. After a long while, maybe, the entire parking lot would become a bare field again, like the farm that the school was founded on.
“Want to get out of here?” Carly reaches a hand out.
Beth lifts off of the hard ground and they begin walking. Walking tall and stiff as if her legs were made of telephone poles.
She’s heading with Jerry towards his car. They’ve been going on less dates than usual, and she is nervous, scared that she’ll say or do something to make him angry or even more distant than he normally is now.
He’s excited and onto an idea, its about the movie they went to see. She pulls on his arm. “I don’t understand, but I could,” She offers hopefully. “I want to know.”
Jerry’s face is an ordinary face, round and open. His brown eyes are intense, the only part of him that is anything other than average. He is quiet. He used to be quiet all the time around her, listening in silence to whatever she said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. She finds herself inexplicably irritated by his constant need to communicate.
He smiles. “Beth what did you think of the movie?”
It had been dark and beautiful. Beth saw it in her mind’s eye as she formulated an answer to his question. Unlike older black and white movies, this one was vibrant and not splotchy, herky-jerky grey on grey. The movie had been shot this year, filmed in a nearby town.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Beth leans back into the car seat. “I didn’t know movies could be like that.”
“Me neither,” Jerry says. He turns to her and points out the door. “Your dorm.”
She’s up again and walking, walking towards her dorm. Its late and the light from the dorm seems dimmed somehow. The dorm seems far, far away, its red brick and grey concrete cast in brilliant relief by the little lights that line the walk from the parking lot to the front door. She turns back and waves to Jerry in his car. He never leaves until he is sure that she has made it inside. He is such a good boyfriend. She is finally at the door and she pushes on it, pushes it open. The light inside is bright and she has to shield her eyes.
She’s shielding her eyes because the overhead projector is shining right into them from the front of the room. This professor is particularly old fashioned. The lecture overheads are mostly charts and bars. The actual class is exciting and based around management during times of crisis: its clear that the teacher is a genius and sent to test all of the students. Beth is hastily scribbling notes.
Beth is taking down a note while on the phone. Its an advisor who needs the admissions office to do some official paperwork, because she can’t seem to figure it out. Lately, because its the first week of school, Beth’s been taking down a lot of similar notes for the same advisor. If Beth passed this person on campus, she would not be able to tell unless they opened their mouth. Its a voice that has been haranguing her for a few days, and its distinguishable now.
Its the sound of a bird. Its the flapping of wings.
Beth rubbed her face with her hands. Reaching out and down to find her phone, she confirmed that she had taken a two hour nap. Mom and Dad would probably be back from their dance class soon. If true to form, they would return with a ham and stuffing fixings. They would all help with baking the ham and making little side dishes to take to Aunty’s house. Beth’s favorite memory was always the ham: not the eating of it, but the making of it. They’d get some kind of canned fruit, and pray for the ham to turn out well. Sam had chosen peaches once, which had ended up with disappointing results.
Sam would be there tomorrow, maybe with the new girlfriend in tow, and Beth hoped she could at least come up with some kind of conversation, any words that wouldn’t sound awkward. Anne was probably a forbidden topic. Talking about their parents would be fun for Sam and Beth, but probably not so much for the new girl. What Carly knew about her was that the girlfriend was currently also attending community college, but on a more serious bachelor’s track.
“Are you studying, too? My friend Carly studies there, too.” Beth rehearsed, deciding on another track. “Are you from around here?” Beth huffed. “I am so boring. I am too boring.”
If the girlfriend loved Sam, there really would be a lot Beth could talk about: his habits, his cute little quirks, maybe even his hair would be fair game. If they were dating casually, well, not so much. Although a regular person wouldn’t take a date to a family function, Sam’s definition of normal changed occasionally. Maybe once he knew that Carly was coming, he thought it would be great to bring his new girlfriend. Aunty could care less as she mostly wanted Dad to come and everyone else was additional.
Aunty and Dad were the only close siblings left alive in their family. They had been born two years apart, with Aunty as the older of the two. Their other siblings, three sisters, were much older. Their parents had passed away a few years before Carly had graduated from high school. She had two sons, both older than Sam, who were living a county away. They came to her house for Christmas, but not for Thanksgiving, which was good because they both had at least three children apiece.
Aunty had moved out here to be with Mom and Dad. She had told Beth that it was for a job and for other reasons, but really, once she was here they saw each other at least once a week. Beth thought it was good, especially for Sam. If there was one person who unequivocally advocated for Sam, it was her. She had taken Sam in the first time he had dropped out of college and Dad had kicked him out.
She wasn’t some kind of bleeding heart, though: Aunty no longer allowed Sam to stay over for more than a few days even if he begged. Beth figured the whole family’s learning curve with Sam was still leaning toward leniency. Someday he could change, when that someday would be was up to time.
Over the past four years, Beth had loaned him at least a hundred dollars by now. She had finally, in the middle of a workshift two weeks ago realized that he would never pay her back, or if he did pay her back, it would be when she would never need it, because she would have a real job by then. Then the phone rang, ending her train of thought and she tabled all of those thoughts until now, until she had to think about what she would and could and should say to her brother.
If she berated him, she would ruin a fun holiday for the rest of her family. Sam’s moods could take over and he could end up screaming at all of them, or the even less fun option of him storming away. If she pretended that nothing was wrong and she said nothing about what she was thinking, everyone would be happier, everyone except her. The middle way was coming up with a way to engage Sam and his girlfriend about generic topics, and praying that the scary issues would not come up.
[2012.11.13][1693][20560]
“I’ll see you tomorrow, I think I need a nap.” Beth suppressed another yawn. “I thought I’d fall asleep during dinner, actually.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to it, girl.” Carly made some humming noises. “Sleep now and keep on sleeping. You need to catch up.”
Beth hung up on Carly and put down the cell phone. She jerked herself down into a sleepign position. Idly considering pulling off her socks and more of her clothes, she discarded those plans because they required getting up and off of the bed. Her eyes closed.
Waking at the library, she sees Mason. His blonde hair looks like a mop because he’s gone so long without a haircut. His blue eyes shine and he’s laughing as he usually does when she falls asleep over Accounting homework. Its not her fault that the words on the page blur dangerously. They all turn into gibberish.
“Put your head down and take a nap. I’ll wake you in fifteen.” He pats her on her shoulder.
For a moment, she glances down at the page, at strange twisting equations and long paragraphs.
And then she has her hand on her head. She’s reclining in her room. Lazy and tired, she gazes out the window to the grey skies above. Rain is either on the way or has already passed. Outside of her room, she can hear the raised voices of her Dad and Sam. Where was her mother? She sees that the rain is falling now, falling near to her and she blinks.
She’s listening to guitar in the auditorium of the high school. Mom gently snores, leaning against Beth’s shoulder. Father is awake, but barely. Sam is nowhere in sight. After a moment, Beth realizes that Dad is only awake because he’s angry, because none of them know where Sam is or how he is doing, but they’re all there to support Sam and Sam is there to support her school and no one is happy.
Her eyes must have closed because the heat of summer is making her sleepy behind the elementary school. She’s sitting there staring while Carly throws rocks in the center of the parking lot. She’s wearing what she wore in the library, and they’re both adults, Carly is in an outfit Beth remembers from high school: a short black skirt and a red tank top. One rock at a time flies to the center of the parking lot. After a long while, maybe, the entire parking lot would become a bare field again, like the farm that the school was founded on.
“Want to get out of here?” Carly reaches a hand out.
Beth lifts off of the hard ground and they begin walking. Walking tall and stiff as if her legs were made of telephone poles.
She’s heading with Jerry towards his car. They’ve been going on less dates than usual, and she is nervous, scared that she’ll say or do something to make him angry or even more distant than he normally is now.
He’s excited and onto an idea, its about the movie they went to see. She pulls on his arm. “I don’t understand, but I could,” She offers hopefully. “I want to know.”
Jerry’s face is an ordinary face, round and open. His brown eyes are intense, the only part of him that is anything other than average. He is quiet. He used to be quiet all the time around her, listening in silence to whatever she said, neither agreeing or disagreeing. She finds herself inexplicably irritated by his constant need to communicate.
He smiles. “Beth what did you think of the movie?”
It had been dark and beautiful. Beth saw it in her mind’s eye as she formulated an answer to his question. Unlike older black and white movies, this one was vibrant and not splotchy, herky-jerky grey on grey. The movie had been shot this year, filmed in a nearby town.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Beth leans back into the car seat. “I didn’t know movies could be like that.”
“Me neither,” Jerry says. He turns to her and points out the door. “Your dorm.”
She’s up again and walking, walking towards her dorm. Its late and the light from the dorm seems dimmed somehow. The dorm seems far, far away, its red brick and grey concrete cast in brilliant relief by the little lights that line the walk from the parking lot to the front door. She turns back and waves to Jerry in his car. He never leaves until he is sure that she has made it inside. He is such a good boyfriend. She is finally at the door and she pushes on it, pushes it open. The light inside is bright and she has to shield her eyes.
She’s shielding her eyes because the overhead projector is shining right into them from the front of the room. This professor is particularly old fashioned. The lecture overheads are mostly charts and bars. The actual class is exciting and based around management during times of crisis: its clear that the teacher is a genius and sent to test all of the students. Beth is hastily scribbling notes.
Beth is taking down a note while on the phone. Its an advisor who needs the admissions office to do some official paperwork, because she can’t seem to figure it out. Lately, because its the first week of school, Beth’s been taking down a lot of similar notes for the same advisor. If Beth passed this person on campus, she would not be able to tell unless they opened their mouth. Its a voice that has been haranguing her for a few days, and its distinguishable now.
Its the sound of a bird. Its the flapping of wings.
Beth rubbed her face with her hands. Reaching out and down to find her phone, she confirmed that she had taken a two hour nap. Mom and Dad would probably be back from their dance class soon. If true to form, they would return with a ham and stuffing fixings. They would all help with baking the ham and making little side dishes to take to Aunty’s house. Beth’s favorite memory was always the ham: not the eating of it, but the making of it. They’d get some kind of canned fruit, and pray for the ham to turn out well. Sam had chosen peaches once, which had ended up with disappointing results.
Sam would be there tomorrow, maybe with the new girlfriend in tow, and Beth hoped she could at least come up with some kind of conversation, any words that wouldn’t sound awkward. Anne was probably a forbidden topic. Talking about their parents would be fun for Sam and Beth, but probably not so much for the new girl. What Carly knew about her was that the girlfriend was currently also attending community college, but on a more serious bachelor’s track.
“Are you studying, too? My friend Carly studies there, too.” Beth rehearsed, deciding on another track. “Are you from around here?” Beth huffed. “I am so boring. I am too boring.”
If the girlfriend loved Sam, there really would be a lot Beth could talk about: his habits, his cute little quirks, maybe even his hair would be fair game. If they were dating casually, well, not so much. Although a regular person wouldn’t take a date to a family function, Sam’s definition of normal changed occasionally. Maybe once he knew that Carly was coming, he thought it would be great to bring his new girlfriend. Aunty could care less as she mostly wanted Dad to come and everyone else was additional.
Aunty and Dad were the only close siblings left alive in their family. They had been born two years apart, with Aunty as the older of the two. Their other siblings, three sisters, were much older. Their parents had passed away a few years before Carly had graduated from high school. She had two sons, both older than Sam, who were living a county away. They came to her house for Christmas, but not for Thanksgiving, which was good because they both had at least three children apiece.
Aunty had moved out here to be with Mom and Dad. She had told Beth that it was for a job and for other reasons, but really, once she was here they saw each other at least once a week. Beth thought it was good, especially for Sam. If there was one person who unequivocally advocated for Sam, it was her. She had taken Sam in the first time he had dropped out of college and Dad had kicked him out.
She wasn’t some kind of bleeding heart, though: Aunty no longer allowed Sam to stay over for more than a few days even if he begged. Beth figured the whole family’s learning curve with Sam was still leaning toward leniency. Someday he could change, when that someday would be was up to time.
Over the past four years, Beth had loaned him at least a hundred dollars by now. She had finally, in the middle of a workshift two weeks ago realized that he would never pay her back, or if he did pay her back, it would be when she would never need it, because she would have a real job by then. Then the phone rang, ending her train of thought and she tabled all of those thoughts until now, until she had to think about what she would and could and should say to her brother.
If she berated him, she would ruin a fun holiday for the rest of her family. Sam’s moods could take over and he could end up screaming at all of them, or the even less fun option of him storming away. If she pretended that nothing was wrong and she said nothing about what she was thinking, everyone would be happier, everyone except her. The middle way was coming up with a way to engage Sam and his girlfriend about generic topics, and praying that the scary issues would not come up.