My entry in the Dreamspinner Press Christmas anthology, A Trouble Halved, is the most personal story that I've written. While the characters are not based on anyone in my family, the setting is my Grandparents' house where I spent my summers and school vacations while growing up.
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ALLEN slammed the door to his bedroom, knowing even as he did it that it wouldn’t win him any points with his mother. Even so, it slammed with a satisfying thunk hard enough to rattle the pictures on the wall.
Throwing himself on his bed, he wished he had a time machine, that he’d go to sleep and wake up nine months in the future, that he was already in college where he could actually start his life and do something. High school and living under his parents‟ thumbs was getting harder each day.
Without warning, his door opened and his mother stood in the doorway, her face red. “Allen Matthew, if you slam this door one more time, not only will you be grounded for a week, but I’ll lock you out of your computer.”
Throwing himself on his bed, he wished he had a time machine, that he’d go to sleep and wake up nine months in the future, that he was already in college where he could actually start his life and do something. High school and living under his parents‟ thumbs was getting harder each day.
Without warning, his door opened and his mother stood in the doorway, her face red. “Allen Matthew, if you slam this door one more time, not only will you be grounded for a week, but I’ll lock you out of your computer.”
He seethed, wanting to scream that he was eighteen, that he had bought his computer with money he had earned, that she didn’t have the right to do anything to him anymore. In the end he remained silent, knowing anything that he said would set her off again. He’d asked to skip the annual Christmas visit to the grandparents in Pennsylvania, but she had hit the roof. “Okay, Mom. I won’t slam it anymore.”
“Thank you. Please pick up your room before you go to bed. It looks like a pig sty.” She slammed the door on the way out. Not the satisfying loud thunk he’d managed, but enough to make a point. It was her house, and she could do as she wished.
Allen saw his laptop sitting on his desk and pushed himself off of his unmade bed to pick it up, kicking the dirty clothes that littered the floor under the bed. His mother would see the difference, but he wasn’t really doing what she’d asked. He’d dig out the clothes someday and throw them in the laundry.
He logged on and started to e-mail Dusty about Christmas but pulled out his cell instead.
“Hey, what’s up? What’d your Mom say?” Dusty sounded excited, and Allen hated to disappoint him.
“No go, man. I got a lecture on family responsibilities, and she was all „the grandparents are getting older‟ and „they’re not going to be here forever‟ and „I could give them one week out of my busy, important year‟.” Allen built up a good head of steam, telling his best friend all of the things that he wished he could have said to his mother. He continued without allowing Dusty to say a word, “You know what, though? It’s not just a week! It’s every holiday, every summer. I miss everything here while we’re in fuckin’ Pennsylvania.”
Dusty said, “That bites. I’ll tell my Mom you can’t come. Real sorry, man”
“In less than a year, though, we’ll be away at college and won’t have to worry about it.” He wished that they would be going to the same college, but even if they had been best friends for most of their lives, they had different interests. Dusty would be going to art school while he would be going the University of Virginia to study Chemistry.
“So what do you do up there, anyway?”
“Nothin’ much. We used to go out and play in the snow and build snowmen and all that shit, but there aren’t many kids there anymore. And who wants to build snowmen, anyway? It’s all old people there, and they just sit around and look at old pictures and talk. No broadband. Boring. As. Shit.”
Dusty, ever the optimist, said, “You can always take your laptop and hide in your room and watch movies.”
“Yeah, maybe. Listen, man, tell your Mom thanks for me, okay? I gotta get this paper finished before tomorrow.”
“Sure. Later, man.”
Instead of working on his English paper, Allen logged onto Facebook and checked to see if Greg had added any new pictures. Once part of the group Dusty and Allen had played with when they were younger, Greg had drifted away when they got to Junior High. While Dusty concentrated on art and Allen had set his sights on science and math, Greg had tried out for the football and baseball teams and excelled. He was too busy with his jock friends, college scouts, and local media reporters to spend time with his geeky childhood friends.
Allen clicked on one of the new thumbnails and was so lost in the tanned skin, blue eyes, and blond hair that he almost missed the chat invitation that popped up at the bottom of the screen. Expecting Dusty, he clicked without looking to see who it was.
GregHarmon: Allen, u there?
“Thank you. Please pick up your room before you go to bed. It looks like a pig sty.” She slammed the door on the way out. Not the satisfying loud thunk he’d managed, but enough to make a point. It was her house, and she could do as she wished.
Allen saw his laptop sitting on his desk and pushed himself off of his unmade bed to pick it up, kicking the dirty clothes that littered the floor under the bed. His mother would see the difference, but he wasn’t really doing what she’d asked. He’d dig out the clothes someday and throw them in the laundry.
He logged on and started to e-mail Dusty about Christmas but pulled out his cell instead.
“Hey, what’s up? What’d your Mom say?” Dusty sounded excited, and Allen hated to disappoint him.
“No go, man. I got a lecture on family responsibilities, and she was all „the grandparents are getting older‟ and „they’re not going to be here forever‟ and „I could give them one week out of my busy, important year‟.” Allen built up a good head of steam, telling his best friend all of the things that he wished he could have said to his mother. He continued without allowing Dusty to say a word, “You know what, though? It’s not just a week! It’s every holiday, every summer. I miss everything here while we’re in fuckin’ Pennsylvania.”
Dusty said, “That bites. I’ll tell my Mom you can’t come. Real sorry, man”
“In less than a year, though, we’ll be away at college and won’t have to worry about it.” He wished that they would be going to the same college, but even if they had been best friends for most of their lives, they had different interests. Dusty would be going to art school while he would be going the University of Virginia to study Chemistry.
“So what do you do up there, anyway?”
“Nothin’ much. We used to go out and play in the snow and build snowmen and all that shit, but there aren’t many kids there anymore. And who wants to build snowmen, anyway? It’s all old people there, and they just sit around and look at old pictures and talk. No broadband. Boring. As. Shit.”
Dusty, ever the optimist, said, “You can always take your laptop and hide in your room and watch movies.”
“Yeah, maybe. Listen, man, tell your Mom thanks for me, okay? I gotta get this paper finished before tomorrow.”
“Sure. Later, man.”
Instead of working on his English paper, Allen logged onto Facebook and checked to see if Greg had added any new pictures. Once part of the group Dusty and Allen had played with when they were younger, Greg had drifted away when they got to Junior High. While Dusty concentrated on art and Allen had set his sights on science and math, Greg had tried out for the football and baseball teams and excelled. He was too busy with his jock friends, college scouts, and local media reporters to spend time with his geeky childhood friends.
Allen clicked on one of the new thumbnails and was so lost in the tanned skin, blue eyes, and blond hair that he almost missed the chat invitation that popped up at the bottom of the screen. Expecting Dusty, he clicked without looking to see who it was.
GregHarmon: Allen, u there?
