Fiction Week 2

IV: Perspective and Point of View

An Early Memory, Part One: The Child as Narrator

I put away my toys and went to look for dad. Mom was washing our dishes from lunch and she said dad was in the basement. I opened the door and went down the stairs to looking for him. I don’t like those steps. I’m always scared that a monster is going to reach through the back of the steps and get me. Dad was working on some white round thing in the corner. I think it had something to do with water. I sat on the bottom step and was throwing a small rubber ball against the wall and catching it as it bounced back while dad was talking to me. I was talking to dad when there was a really loud sound. It sounded like thunder and then it got really bright and hot. I just sat there on the bottom step not moving, I was also wet. Mom came running down the stairs yelling questions and asking what happened? I looked up at mom and she ran down to me and held me. She was asking dad what happened and putting her hands on my head and face. Dad came over and looked at me and told mom that the water tank blew up. I looked at my dad and he was missing hair on his face. I think that is why mom had her hands on my face. Dad carried me upstairs and sat me on a kitchen chair. Mom got on her knees and hugged me and was crying. Dad picked up the phone and called someone, whoever it was I am just glad it wasn’t me they were really getting yelled at.

An Early Memory, Part Two: The Reminiscent Narrator

I had just finished playing with my He-Man toys and put them back in the box so that my dad would not get mad at me. One of the things that I learned at an early age was to put my toys away otherwise I could pretty much guarantee that I would not be seeing them again. I walked into the kitchen with a bounce in my step and questioned mother about where dad was. She was cleaning dishes from our lunch. Mom said that dad was down in the basement fixing the water heater, apparently our landlord hadn’t been around to repair it so dad was taking the initiative. I remember walking down the wooden steps that had no back on them, they creeped me out. I was always terrified that some slimy hands with sharp claws were going to shoot out, grip my ankles and pull me through the opening just like one of those horror movies where the person is never to be seen again. After I rushed down the steps I picked up a small ball that bounced easily and tossed it against the wall, watching it ricochet off the floor, the wall and then back to me. I repeated this over and over as dad asked me what I was up to. I told him that I was playing with my He-Man toys and I wanted to come down and see what he was doing. He was over by the water heater, using a wrench and turning something. I am not really sure what happened next, but it got really bright and hot fast. A loud noise ripped through the basement and mom came tearing down the steps as dad dove for the ground coming towards me quickly. Somehow the water heater exploded and both were looking me over making sure I wasn’t burnt. Dad and I escaped with just singed hair and we both were eyebrow-less for quite a while. We sat there and hugged for a few moments in our now wet clothes. Dad carried me upstairs and sat me down in the kitchen on a dining chair while mom, proceeded to smother me with more hugs. Dad picked up the receiver on the wall and dialed the landlord. It was great to hear someone else getting their butt chewed out by my father. I am very much aware of my fathers temper and I was relishing the moment. I could easily picture the person at the other end of the line holding the phone three feet from their head and still being able to hear my dad clearly. With the potential for getting killed in the basement I was not the least bit sorry for that landlord because my dad had called him numerous times to come and fix it and he never did. Now it ended up costing him a lot more.

V: Dialogue

Speech Flavor, Or Sounding Real

“Flo-duh? What is a Flo-duh?

I craned my neck back and shielded my eyes from the twin suns. The massive crystal pillar seemed to touch the sky. I slowly brought my head down and looked over at the group gathering nearby on the cobblestone plaza. “You’re joking, right? You seriously want me to talk to this...rock?”

Sinn let out long spine tingling maniacal laugh. “Foolish miscreant; nobody mocks Lord Narim Sinn and lives, boy. Instead of being a merciful Lord and killing you quickly, I am destroy your entire existence and everything you hold dear, beginning with with her.” Lord Sinn pointed his staff directly at Kimmy.

The bright blues eyes stared up at me. “Dad, you like?” I nodded my head yes. “‘Kay. I go get more.” A streak of blonde hair dashed from the room and a smile spread across face.

“How could you?” She yelled, the blood reddening her cheeks. “Am I not pretty enough? Is there not enough sex?” Suddenly, her voice lowered, almost to a whisper, which was worse than the yelling. “I have put everything into this relationship and here you are fooling around with other women.”

The Invisible Scene: Interspersing Dialogue with Action

“You are not actually thinking about going, are you?”

I slammed the drawer shut, frustrated that the conversation even got to this point. “Yes, I am.”

A hand gripped my shoulder and spun me around. Kimmy looked intently at me. “This is insane. You sound insane.”

“I am not insane,” I yelled. I took a deep breath and let my shoulder slump, the weight of the past almost too much to bear. This time I speak softly, “I have to go, I know this is real.” I pick up my black duffel bag from the floor and begin step around Kimmy. I hesitate at the door, “I’m sorry.”

Kimmy lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is nuts, I must be nuts,” she turns around an expression of annoyance masks her face before transforming into one of trust. “C’mon, I need to gather some stuff before we go.”

A boyish grin spreads across my face.