Not Pictured: That Manuscript. This is a completely different one.
I wrote a scene for a book ten years ago.
Shit. Writing that sentence was the first time I stopped to do that particular math. Fuck. That was longer ago than I thought.
Anyway, this was my first finished book. It sucked. I mean, it’s not spectacularly bad– it doesn’t physically hurt me to read it, like some of my earlier, unfinished stories–but it still sucks. It will remain in cold storage indefinitely, or until the sun explodes and burns us all to a crisp.
But there was this one scene. I liked it. I still like it. Not the way it was written, because, dude, I was just starting out then. I had spent the previous six years writing academic papers. My fiction writing was not great, to say the least. I could over-explain like a boss, though.
I survived a parent’s worst nightmare. The middle of the night phone call. I missed the first ring but the second that came almost immediately had me out of the bed and on high alert.
Our brains with more than 100 billion nerve cells, is the most sophisticated communication network we own, and when it speaks, we better listen. My daughter who lives nearly 500 miles away was on the other end of that line, and she was terrified – someone was in the hall of her apartment trying to get in somewhere. Even I, through the phone lines, could hear the God- awful ruckus the intruder was making. He sounded like he was on the other side of her door.
“Call 911.”
“Oh my God! He’s right outside.” Her crying intensified. “What do I do? What do I do?” Fear had paralyzed her.
“Stay on the line with me honey. I’m calling 911 from my end. “Don’t hang up.”
A mother’s instinct to protect her children, no matter their age and it’s as strong as any of our survival instincts. My job as a mother was to stay calm and help her as best I could.I can tell you if I could have flown through those phone lines – I would have.
“Is the chain on your door?”
“I don’t have a chain.”
“Move the foyer dresser in front of the door.”
“He’ll hear me!”
“Get a knife, right now. If he comes through that door, use it.”
While I tried to keep her calm here’s where my mind was taking me. I didn’t want her to hang up to call herself, although she did and those few minutes we were not connected were the longest of my life. I was terrified if she hung up even for a moment, the worst might happen. In my mind as long as I could hear talk to her, she was safe.
And here:
Her crying intensified. “He’s trying to break down a door.”
I heard the destruction 500 miles away, and I prayed. “The police are on their way sweetheart, stay with me. You’re okay.”
“The police are here. They just pulled up out front.”
“Honey, before you open the door, make sure it’s the police and don’t open the door with the knife in your hand, please.”
As it turns out, a drunken boyfriend kicked in the door to his girlfriend’s apartment. The police found him passed out inside and the girlfriend three sheets to the winds, as well. My daughter and other young ladies on the hall, although terrorized, were safe.
Yep, this mom survived a late-night phone call. Thank God so did my daughter. But, let me assure anyone who messes with my daughters will face this mother’s wrath.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
There’s nothing quite like getting up early in the morning and enjoying a cup of coffee overlooking the massive expanse of the ocean.Listening to the waves rush toward shore is one of God’s most beautiful lullabies.
The beach – one of the most beautiful places on earth to chill out, reconnect, shut out the world and all its craziness, and just be present.
I don’t go as often as I like but the beach holds precious memories for me. The times I took my girls, trips with my husband, my best friend, and watching the joy of my Bichon Frise discover the ocean for the first time. Those are the memories that will last a lifetime.
Take a trip to the beach this year, breathe in the salt air, and listen to God’s lullaby. Just one word of caution, unless you’re a lot younger than I – make sure you don’t find yourself on the third floor of a cottage without an elevator.
It’s gonna take us at least another week to recuperate from all those steps and my poor pup – her tongue is still hanging out.
Piper
God’s Lullaby @ Myrtle Beach
Do you have a vacation to the beach planned this year? Share your trip with us.
Not Pictured: That Manuscript. This is a completely different one. 
COW PASTURE CHRONICLES 