Beginning of a story Rim Road

My prompt:

 I walk Rim Road at my own peril: I have been warned.

An errant twig snaps under my hiking book; birds scatter to the sky. I stop...and listen. Crickets, squirrels, leaves buffeted by Nature's exhale, the rumbling of my stomach, and the hammering of my heart are the sounds that jump out to greet my vigilance.

The forest closes in as I approach the rotted gate. My trembling hand reaches for the latch as the warning rattles my every fiber. "Never go past old man Miller's gate. Rim Road will be your last destination...of this world.

My story for writing.com using their prompt  too (Prompt: I don't like this)

Rim Road

We walk Rim Road at our own peril.

An errant twig snaps under my hiking book; birds scatter to the sky.

“What was that?” my brother asks.

“A twig.”

“No, something else,” he says.

We stop...and listen. Crickets, squirrels, leaves buffeted by Nature's exhale, the rumbling of our stomachs, and the hammering of our hearts are the sounds that jump out to greet us.

“I don’t like this,” Sammy says.

I’m scared, too, but can’t let on. He is my kid brother.

“We’re almost there, Sammy.”

The forest closes in as we approach the rotted gate. My trembling hand reaches for the latch as my grandpa’s warning rattles my every fiber. "Never go past old man Miller's gate. Rim Road will be your last destination...of this world.

“Eddie, don’t! Remember the curse!”

“Oh, that is just a silly story Grandpa George told us,” I say, but I ease my hand away.

We have come all this way on our Saturday adventure, intent on trespassing on old man Miller’s property. He has been dead for years and his house stands abandoned, but the curse remains, according to our grandfather.

“Oh, Sammy, don’t be a chicken!”

“I’m not being a chicken. Grandpa is a smart man.”

Our Grandpa George is a smart man and not prone to gossip or exaggeration.

The two-story house stands in disrepair amongst the tall weeds. I see movement in an upstairs window.

“I think we should go,” Sammy says.

“I guess,” I say without mentioning what I saw.

“Let’s go to the movies,” my kid brother says.

“Okay, let’s.”

We turn back and head home; I lead the way, looking back every so often.

“Let’s pick up the pace so we don’t miss the matinee,” I say, as we hurry home down Rim Road.

Kid by the Side of the Road Ideas

 We have all been bystanders, watching events go by...not understanding their true meaning.

Each one of us has been that kid by the side of the road who grew up in the shadows of those events--when our nation was stolen from us. If we can see it that way, we know we've won...

Prompt for 1-19-22

 

The Ralph Crow Affair

 

The Ralph Crow Affair

January 11, 2022

The inciting incident takes place one afternoon (let's say in March because I am not sure) in Pasadena, California, 2013.

Tere parallel-parks her SUV on Colorado Boulevard in the Old Pasadena shopping district. She shops for incense and miscellaneous Buddhist items. (Having just converted, she is zealous in her piety.) When the shopper returns to her car, she hears a sound from the pavement, near her right front bumper.

A crow flaps its wing trying to fly. The other wing is damaged as is its head and one leg. Most likely, the bird has been clipped by a car. (We will never know, because birds can't speak, and no one left a note admitting to the accident/crime...We will never know which...)  Tere picks up the bird, ever so gently, and takes it to the safety of her car. She places the crow on the front seat and covers it with a blanket--a noble gesture to be sure.

On the way to the animal hospital is when things take an odd turn. By the time she arrives, she has named the crow Ralph and become his mother, taking on full responsibility for this stranger's life. (Someone has to do it.) She has built an entire backstory around the bird and its trauma. She carries on a one-sided conversation with Ralph as she drives him to safety.

Once at the animal hospital, she tells her story and waits for the doctor. While she waits, she calls her husband (my son) to tell him the situation and the costs that will be incurred. Since he is the only one working, this expense will fall upon him.

While this is going on, I am making my trek from Arizona to California to spend a few days with Chris and family (Tere and her childhood nanny, Po, who is visiting from Mexico).

Tere tells me all about Ralph as I drive through California traffic. I try to show the proper amount of concern because Tere insists that everyone think like she does. She is upset with Chris. I can hardly wait to hear her reason.

"I called him at work and told him about Ralph and that the doctor needed to run some tests. The initial fee is fifty dollars and he didn't want to okay it."

I agree with my son, but don't dare speak my mind, even over the phone.

I arrive at the residence in Ramirez Canyon (Malibu) before Chris gets home from work. Tere is waiting by the phone to hear the latest update. She is very upset with Chris and lets me know about it, forgetting who she is speaking with.

"Ralph needs brain surgery and Chris says no. I can't believe how heartless he is being!"

"How much was it going to be?" I ask, cautiously.

"Five hundred dollars and he said no! Ralph will die without it."

It is sad, since Ralph is now a part of the family and all. I almost ask if giving blood would help, but think better of it.

Just then, Chris's truck pulls into the driveway. Great timing.

We say our hellos. Well, Tere shuns him but Po and I (and Nova, the disabled dog in the wheeled gizmo. Another story or two for another time) greet him warmly.

Tere sits by the phone after we get back from dinner (Tere doesn't cook). Finally, after not getting a callback, she calls the animal hospital the next morning. Ralph died during the night and they didn't think to call her being it was a crow and not really her crow.

Well,  she goes absolutely hysterical. Chris missed it because he had already left for work (lucky him). I don't know how to console her being her reaction is way too over-the-top to be rational. I hug her a bit and stroke her hair.  Po hugs her and consoles her for the entire day as Tere reminisces (mostly in Spanish with Po)  about her dear friend, Ralph, and his demise.

Well, I realize now it was all more than likely a test to see what I would do, how much consolation I would give her in any given instance. I failed the test.

I know that now because of what happened shortly thereafter. But that is also another story for another time.


Notes:

NEVER DID THIS IN 2017. Wrote the first one about Ralph the Crow. I need to find that. Could be in the book.

I think this challenge will be good for me. I will post a flash at writing.com and then turn it into a more fleshed out story each week and also visualize it as a play. Or, I can take writing.com stories I have written and work with those but almost feels like cheating. I should write stories that could be linked together in book form (my novel).

Week One:    January    1-7   Just had a brilliant idea. Write the story about the crow as the first story.
Ralph. My reaction gave the woman fuel to dismiss me from their lives. YES!

I don't know what this was: Not realistic because someone would spend the money on a beloved pet.

My wife left a note on the kitchen table: Missy ate a whole glob of tinsel and we are at the vet. I think this will get expensive. He is talking surgery. I didn’t make dinner, Sorry. Be home when I get there. Ann.

Surgery on a cat? Come on—really? I don’t mean to be heartless…

So, what’s next? A reindeer getting injured on our roof and suing us? The police tracking us down by our tire tracks in the snow and confiscating our Christmas tree? 

I remember when Christmas was so uncomplicated.

I think I would rather link stories together about narcissistic relative and not publish each one, just save them.

Week Two:   January    8-15
Week Three: January    16-23
Week Four:   January    24-31