Showing posts with label Davey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Davey. Show all posts

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Dolla Back Boy

a Davey’s Family story

500 words inspired by the Weekend Wordsmith prompt “a dollar bill that’s been written on

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“You got a letter today,” Ma said to Davey.  She nodded at an envelope tucked into the napkin holder on the kitchen table where Davey sat eating his after-school snack.  Ma leaned against the counter, smoking.  She flicked cigarette ash into the yellow plastic ashtray in her hand.  Davey coughed and fanned away the smoke.  Ma took a drag and turned her head to exhale toward the small window over the sink.  Ruffled curtains fluttered in the spring breeze.

“Do you think there’s another dollar in it?” Davey said.  He wiped his hands on his dungarees and held the envelope overhead, trying to discern its contents.  “I can’t tell.”

“The return address says Possum Kingdom,” said Ma, “in Texas.”

“I don’t know anybody in Texas,” said Davey.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” said Ma.

Davey’s fourth grade class had been working on The Hometown Dollar Project all year.  It started when Davey and most of his classmates got the same chain letter in the mail promising good luck and world travel if you wrote the name of your hometown on a dollar bill and sent it to the first person listed at the bottom of the letter.  The letter said to take the first person’s name and address off the list, add yours to the bottom and send the letter to ten of your friends within five days.  When your name reached the top of the list the dollars you got back would map your future travels.

Davey’s teacher told the class that each student who got a Hometown Dollar back should write a report about the dollar’s hometown, read it to the class and then choose a brightly colored thumbtack to mark the location on the big map of the United States on the classroom bulletin board.  Davey had already placed green thumbtacks at Cheektowaga in upstate New York and Fort Lauderdale in Florida.

Davey skimmed through the letter.

“Ma,” he said, “it’s from a kid like me.  His name is Joe and he’s a cowboy.  A real cowboy!”

“Not everyone in Texas is a cowboy,” said Ma.

“He lives on a ranch,” said Davey.  “He helps his dad in the barn and rides his horse everyday.  See, he sent a picture.”  Davey handed Ma a photo of boy sitting on a spotted horse.  The boy’s straw cowboy hat was pushed back to reveal his smiling face.

“Joe says he wants to be pen pals and wants to know what it’s like to live on Long Island and if I ever get to swim in the ocean.  And there’s a dollar, too.  He wrote Possum Kingdom Texas on the back just like we’re supposed to.”

Ma looked over Davey’s shoulder at the letter with its neat, childlike handwriting.

“I don’t see any harm,” she said, “but we’d better check with your Pop when he gets home, just to be sure.  Now you need to get over to the library and write your report about Joe's hometown.”

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Copyright © 2012, Lulubelle B

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Dead Fish Swimming

a Davey's Family story

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive.  Click here for more info.

This week’s sentence is from Willa Cather's Death Comes For The Archbishop:  'Muerto,' he whispered.

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Davey trailed his family as they walked back to the car across the beach parking lot.  Davey stopped frequently to check on the black goldfish circling in the plastic bag clutched in his hand.  All of Davey’s previous fish had been orange – Coke and Pepsi, Seven and Seven, Jack and Bobby.  This was his first singleton and he was determined to keep it alive for more than the usual week or two.


When they’d arrived at Bayville this morning Pop set up the beach umbrella for Ma, who needed shade for her pale, freckled skin.


“Redheads burn easily,” Ma said, sitting upright in a chair, wearing big sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, her book resting atop the cooler that held lunch and drinks and the two bags of ice that Pop had bought at the corner gas station at the start of their short drive to the North Shore.


Pop and Juicy watched the sun for a few minutes before setting their lounge chairs at the perfect angle to maximize rays and minimize the need to move as the sun tracked across the sky.  They took off their shirts and plopped down for a good long bake.  Even though it was early in the season, each was well on the way to the deep walnut tan they maintained through the summer.


Davey carefully spread his beach towel upwind of the grownups to avoid the inevitable cloud of smoke.  Sure enough, as soon as everyone settled in Ma reached for her pack of Newports, Pop for his Luckies and Juicy fired up the cigar stump that hadn’t left his mouth all morning.


Davey walked the waterline, collecting shells and stones for his collection, but only after he suffered Ma to slather him in suntan lotion.  Pop and Juicy swam in the Sound, racing each other from one lifeguard stand to the next.  They all returned for lunch as Ma handed out salami sandwiches on rye with mustard, potato chips and fruit.  There was beer for Ma and Juicy and Coke for Davey and Pop.  After lunch the adults dozed while Davey read a few chapters in his library book.


On the way back to the car, Juicy suggested they stop at the arcade and play a few midway games.  Davey looked longingly at the goldfish toss where a single black fish swam amongst the endless globes of orange.


‘You like that fella?” Juicy asked. Davey nodded.  “I’ll win him for ya.”


Now Juicy fell back to walk with Davey.


“Got a name for that handsome fish?” Juicy asked.  “He’s a special fish, so he needs a special name.”


“They die so quick,” said Davey.


“Maybe not, if he has a powerful name,” said Juicy.


Ma looked over her shoulder and motioned for Davey to hurry up.


Juicy bent to whisper in Davey’s ear.  “Know what that means?”


Davey shook his head.


Juicy bent and spoke again behind his hand.


Davey raised the fish to eye level.


“Muerto,” he whispered, smiling widely.


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copyright (c) 2010 Lulubelle B

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Bare Bear

a Davey's Family story

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive. Click here for more info.

This week's sentence is from Garrison Keillor's "Radio Romance"So what happened to Hoyt Buford?

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“Can I go read until dinner’s ready?” Davey asked.

Ma’s parents, Bubbie and Grandpa, were visiting. The hors d’ oeuvres were long gone, but dinner was still cooking.


Ma and Bubbie talked quietly in the kitchen. Pop and Grandpa sat in the club chairs in front of the big picture window in the living room, smoking cigarettes and making awkward conversation. Davey fidgeted on the sofa.


“No, you may not hide in a book while we have company. Why don’t you take Bubbie and Grandpa upstairs and show them your room?” Ma said.


“Do you wanna see my room?” Davey asked, less than enthusiastically.


“Of course we do, dear,” said Bubbie, beckoning Davey and Grandpa toward the stairs. Pop heaved himself out of his chair, ground out his cigarette in a glass ashtray and followed them upstairs.


Davey led the way, opening the door to his small bedroom, then standing aside to let his grandparents enter first. His room was neat as a pin, books stacked, clothing put away, bed made . Bare Bear sat in the place of honor, centered against the bed pillow.


“It’s lovely, dear” said Bubbie. “Everything in its place. You’re such a good boy.”


“And how’s Bare Bear these days?” Grandpa asked.


“Grandpa, do you like Bare Bear?” Davey asked. “Sergeant Buford sent him from Florida.”


“That’s a name we haven’t heard in a while. So what happened to Hoyt Buford?” Bubbie asked Pop. “You don’t mention him much since you got out of the service.”


“Married a local girl. Moved to Florida.” Pop said with a shrug. “Sent the bear when Davey was born.”


“And why does Bare Bear look so sad, Davey?” Bubbie asked. “He seems a little worse for the wear.”


“I took him outside to read last week and Patch, the dog from next door, grabbed him.  I grabbed him back, but his arm came off and some of his insides came out.” Davey said. “Ma sewed him back up and he’s ok, mostly, I guess.”


“Well, I think Bare Bear needs a trip to the doll hospital in New York . They can get him all fixed up, good as new,” said Bubbie.


“We can take him home with us tonight,” Grandpa agreed, “and bring him back in a few weeks when he’s all better.”


Pop sighed loudly from the doorway “You’re getting too big for a teddy bear, son.”


“But he’s my friend. Any your friend gave him to me,” Davey said.


The kitchen time rang loudly. Ma called out, “Dinner’s ready!”


Bubbie headed to the kitchen to help Ma bring dinner to the table. Pop stomped downstairs, lighting a cigarette Ma would insist he put out before sitting down.


Grandpa lingered in Davey’s room, putting a comforting arm around the boy. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll convince your Pop. Bare Bear will come home with us, I promise. They’ll even give him a ribbon to wear around his neck and he won’t be Bare Bear anymore.”


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copyright (c) 2010 Lulubelle B

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Preference

a Davey's Family story

500 words based on a sentence (in italics) selected by Dive. Click here for more info.

Davey was a bookish boy, his boldest adventures taking place in his own mind, combining the tedious flat details of everyday life with those far more interesting gleaned from the pages of the masters at the storefront library on Jackson Avenue or in cast off volumes rescued from bargain bins at weekend garage sales. He spent hours copying and recopying treasured passages into carefully catalogued black-and-white-covered composition books, learning the words not only in his head, but also in his fingers.

On sunny afternoons when Ma ordered him out of the house for half an hour to get some fresh air he would sit with his books on the cement step outside the kitchen door in the shade of the crabapple tree, listening for the sound of the kitchen timer that allowed him back inside and freed him from the scrutiny of the high school boys playing catch in the street, moving aside at the call of “Car!” when a vehicle needed to pass.

He dreamed of wandering Borges’ hexagonal Library, searching for the book of the story of his own life. Instead he was pedaling furiously homeward, dodging taunts and spitballs from the passing yellow bus on its run to the Home on Covent Road on the north side of town, twin baskets straddling the fat rear tire of his battered red bicycle crammed with schoolbooks, anticipating refuge in his small upstairs bedroom, perhaps even crawling into the kneehole under the desk and pulling in the chair firmly behind him.

As Davey turned onto Candy Lane he saw a cab pulling away from number twenty-four, its passenger half hiding a stumpy cigar behind his back as he knocked on the screen door. Juicy, Ma’s longshoreman uncle, was here for dinner.

“Hiya Red, I brought dessert.” He smacked Ma lightly on the bottom as she turned to take the big green and brown bakery box into the kitchen.

“Mmm, a blackout cake.”

“I love telling the cabby ‘Candy Lane’. Reminds me of a bubble dancer I knew after the war. Friendly gal.”

“Shh Juicy, the boy!”

Davey edged towards the stairs and his second-floor sanctuary.

“You don’t say hello to your favorite uncle? What say when your Pop gets home we go up to Bayville for a swim? Work up an appetite for your Ma’s delicious dinner?”

“I have homework.”

“You spend any more time with your books, you’re gonna turn into a certified bookworm. Swimming is good for you, and you might meet some girls. I met my Blanche at the beach. Your Ma and Pop met at Rockaway.”

“There’s a test tomorrow.”

“C’mon Sport. Where’s your moxie?”

Ma smiled hopefully. “Go on, Davey. Have a swim with Juicy and your Pop.”

His mind raced, searching for a refusal that would stick, strong enough to ward off Juicy but not rude enough to get into trouble. Then, suddenly, with great clarity and precision, he saw Bartleby's window and the blank brick wall before him.

“I would prefer not to.”



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copyright (c) 2009 Lulubelle B
all original content (c) copyright 2009-2012 Lulubelle B