Friday, January 27, 2012

The Bodacious Maturation of Wonder Riley--1

The best present Granny Cat Clark ever received was from me—Wonder Riley. I know this because she tells me practically every day. She covers my wild red rumpus hair with her big-as-man hands and exclaims.
            “Wonder, have I told you lately how incredibly special I find my throne?”
            I’d trash-picked the eight foot antique hall tree but I took care to never mention that fact to her. I had no desire to reduce it in her esteem. Even so, I suspect Granny Cat may have figured it out as I am not a young woman of great means.
            Most recently, I told her of an exciting and wonderful future event.
            “My beau’s creating a seat cushion for it, Granny Cat,” I said. “Then you’ll love it even more.”
            She p-shawed me. “Now you listen here, Sugar Pop,” she said. “That boy is not your beau, not your forever love. Trust me. I have a gift. I know these things.”
            She coaxed two tangerine-colored tendrils out of my updo, arranged them on either side of my face.
            “A boy who sews fashion items is not one who will adore a woman,” she said. “Well, not in the way you want. Or need.”
            I’d laid my hand over hers. “But it’s rainbow velvet, Granny. With a brush fringe. I’m pretty sure you’ll wet your britches when you see it.”
            I didn’t want her to be right about Charlie, but her certainty gave me pause. Maybe that’s why he always kissed my fingers, not my cheek. Nor my lips, full and glossy as I maintained them. Whenever we came together after a separation he’d say, “Enchante” and lift my fingertips to his mouth. He wouldn’t release them for the longest time. And sometimes his eyelashes appeared damp. That meant he cared, right?
            Charlie'd worn mittens, charcoal gray ones, the last time we’d been together. His papa had duct-taped them to his wrists.
            “Why?” I said as I fished Granny Cat’s sewing scissors out of her darning basket. “Is he concerned you would— That we might—”
            Charlie collapsed beside me on the sofa. “No,” he said as he wept against my chest. “He doesn’t want me to stitch again. Ever.”
            But that’s a recent tale. I probably should regress.

(You can read part 2 here.) 


Sara said...

Bravo. This was good tale. I loved how you described your characters, making me see each one and then left me wondering about Charlie's sewing and the duck-taped hands.

Just a suggestion: Sometime stop by Write on Edge and check out their Red Writing Hood prompts. They go up on Tuesdays, but if your EST, they're not up until evening.

I think you'd have a great time with these prompts. Usually they're fun and challenging. In addition you get good constructive feedback. I love doing them.

writingdianet said...

Sara! You are such an encouragement to me. I am totally going to check out that website. It sounds like a blast:) I just came across another website with prompts that I wanna check out--MamasLosin'It. Have you heard of that one?
This whole Wonder Riley story all came about with me writing that name down a few months back, knowing I wanted to build a character around it. I have more sections for this story. Thought I might make Wednesdays "Wonder Wednesdays" for awhile . . .
Have a great weekend, cyber friend;)

Jack said...

I liked the combination of the picture and the story. It really helped me visualize things.


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