The Homecoming
Snow soaks my shoes, reminding me it's foolish to be out on a night like this, but I can't help myself. It's as if that house is the light and I am the moth drawn to it's flame. There was a time when I could have told you how many steps it took to carry my mother's apple pie, piping hot from the oven, to the little church there on the corner. Just in time for the winter festival. Every year another pie and every year another blue ribbon to tape to the refrigerator door until winter came around again.
Then there was the time our family and the Hurley family next door tried to see who could make the biggest snowman after the blizzard of '88. You should have seen it. Kids in the neighborhood picking sides and cheering us on. Me running indoors to grab an old scarf and gloves to help decorate the smooth boulders of icy snow my dad managed to stack on top of one another. He even had to lift me up high so I could add the carrot nose. A cold night like tonight sure brings back the memories.
I stamp my feet to get some feeling back in my toes. I even turn up the collar of my Army issued coat but it does little to keep the wind from sneaking its way under my shirt and a shiver runs up my spine. I know what they will be doing right now. Mom making a pot of hot tea. Dad settling down in that lopsided recliner with the newspaper while the day's news drones on softly in the background. Just a few steps keeps me from the warmth of that house but it seems more like miles. Will I be welcomed back? Or will they search my eyes for the answers to questions they are too afraid to ask?
Just a few steps between the cold snow I'm standing in and the world I once knew, but all I can think of right now is how will they handle my homecoming?
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(Okay...now here's where you, my readers, come join the fun! What happens next? Does he knock on the door? Do they welcome him? What do they say? Why did he leave? Why is he afraid to return home? Does he simply fade back into the night? You decide...add a sentence or add a paragraph. Let's see where this picture takes us!)
"Are you Santa?" a small voice asks. I look down at the face of a five year old girl.
ReplyDelete"No, I'm just one of his helpers." My bright red Santa hat must have confused her. "Who are you?" I look around for for her parents and see Janice walking down the walk.
"Carey, come here baby." She sees me and stops.
up and our eyes meet.
"Carey?" she whispers my name.
"Janice."
We just stand there staring at one another. I left six years ago, and now, as I look into her deep blue eyes I can't remember why?
Hi Yolanda and welcome to my blog! What a lovely twist to my picture prompt! I can totally see the turning into a holiday romance story with your addition...;~)
DeleteNice job!
Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!
I can’t come this far and not knock, but I can’t do it alone. I roll three large balls of snow and stack them up. It’s easier now than it was in ’88. I’ve inherited my dad’s strength, after all. My hands are numb with cold, but I find two pennies in my pocket and press them into the snowman’s face. He stares me down. Now or never, he seems to say, so I knock.
ReplyDeleteMy dad answers the door. I point my thumb over my shoulder. “I was hoping you might have a carrot to spare,” I say to him.
He glances behind me, then says, “C’mon in, and we’ll take a look.” I follow him inside and shut the door, sure that he hasn’t recognized me.
-- OK, I got him in the door. What happens next?
cwm = Carol Munro
DeleteHi Carol! I really like how you took my original flash fiction and made it your own. We have very similar writing voices in this story and I like how you left it open ended for someone else to pick up the thread...
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
No, I can’t face them. I cup my hands over my face and blow hot breath to warm my nose. Uh-uh. No deal. I turn and follow my footprints away from that house, Mom, Dad, my memories.
ReplyDelete“Jerome?”
It’s Mom’s voice. I stop. Do I turn around? Do I keep walking?
“Please, Jerome,” Mom pleads.
(note from Alayne) So, here is my continuation from the original. I'm guessing the idea is to continue on with the first comment?
We just stand there staring at one another. I left six years ago, and now, as I look into her deep blue eyes I can't remember why?
"Do you know Santa?" the girl asks.
"What happened to you? Janice asks.
Hi Alayne! My intention with these flash fiction short stories is simply to invite my readers to come out to play...;~)
DeleteAdd to my original or one of the other comments...all the lovely twists and turns are going to simply add more flavor to these stories and we all get the chance to take a taste!
Thanks for stopping by and come back any time!
"I've been wandering, said Jerome. "The war really messed me up. You don't want to be around a loser."
ReplyDelete"We love you and want you home," Mom whispered. She slowly eased her way towards Jerome knowing with each move, she was taking a risk. She lost him once -- not twice.
Oh, I thought I was to respond to what Alayne added. Sorry it if messed up.
DeleteHi Patricia! Like I was telling Alayne, it's purely up to you whether you want to add to MY original picture prompt flash fiction or if you want to add to someone else's comment...it's all in good fun and I'm hoping more and more people will want to try their hand at flash fiction so we will all win in the end no matter how we get there!
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
I go to knock, but stop an inch from the door. Can I do it? It HAS been 12 years since I ran away to join the Army... Will they still hate me? Will they recognize me? Will all those good times be forgotten?
ReplyDelete"Come on Gregory! Man up! Just knock!" I scold myself. I knocked - a good, hard, solid knock. I also step away from the door.
The mahogany door flew open and an aluminum baseball bat crashed down. Dad stepped out, wearing wooly pajamas and fuzzy slippers. I looked up - it was dark out - nearly midnight.
"Who's there?" he growled. I wondered why he said that, but then realized that the illness that was taking his eyesight had completely gained control. His eyes just stared, motionless, blinking one time per 30 seconds.
"Uhhh... ehhhh... uhhhh-"
"Why, I'd recognize that 'UHHH' and 'EHHHH' anywhere, ya runaway recruit! Come in Gregory! We have lots to explain in the morning! Right now let's get us some sleep, eh, me young son-neroo! I can't wait to hear your mother describe your buzz-cut to me!" Dad chuckled, then laughed, and soon he was laughing like crazy. I couldn't help it - I started laughing too.
Now, I am back where I started - home - the sweetest place possible!
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I like everyone's endings! :D
Oh, Erik, what a lovely addition to my flash fiction piece! I didn't realize you were such a talented writer...my goodness, I hope you join in the fun more...;~)
DeleteThanks for stopping by and come back any time!
Thank you Ms. Martin! I will try to join in next time! :)
Delete