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The Mean Season
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The Mean Season |
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Romy Senior Member
since 2000-05-28
Posts 1170Plantation, Florida |
The neighbors were at it again and Marlene wondered how long it would go on this time. Walking into her tiny kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water from the jar that she kept on the counter. Sipping slowly, she savored the warm liquid as it slid down her parched throat, enjoying the wetness of it, relishing the very act of swallowing her ration for the morning. She would have liked to have a little more, just this once, but her precious supply was already dwindling after only two weeks. She needed to be careful. Peeking through the curtains at the kitchen window, she could see Vicky Nelson out by the empty swimming pool, lips curled back against her teeth, snarling at her son Carl. "Good for nothing lazy kid! Turn that crap down! If you won’t shut it off, I’ll do it for you!" She was crimson and sweaty, standing in a faded housecoat on the white-hot cement, her eyes flashing with fury. Carl, sprawled in a lawn chair, stared back at his mother with a sullen expression smeared across his face. While she watched, he languidly finished off the last of his bottle of water, letting some of it run down his dry lips and dribble onto his damp T-shirt. Sneering, he reached over and turned up the volume on the radio, blasting her with heavy metal music. Taking care to not be seen, Marlene drew back, as the Millers, the young couple living two doors down, ran by her window, one wielding a bat, another a broom. She could hear shouting and cursing in the distance. There was a group of badly sunburned kids in the parking lot dancing around an abandoned water truck, smashing the windshield with rocks. She could see the heat radiating in waves of the sizzling black pavement. Last week her good friend Alice attacked Mike the groundskeeper. She had observed this, horrified, as Alice, usually so sweet and proper, came racing out of her apartment screaming obscenities of every kind. Spotting the object of her hostility near the laundry room, she chased him all the way across the burnt grass in front of the building, a potted plant in one hand and a clawfoot hammer in the other. Marlene sighed as she backed away from the window, letting the heavy curtain fall back, darkening the room. The air in her apartment felt stale and thick, making it difficult to breathe. The thermometer hanging on the wall was already showing a temperature of one hundred and twenty seven degrees this morning. As she walked into her living room, she could hear the sound of gunfire and something heavy being pushed down the walkway by the stairs. Maybe it’ll be a mild season this year, she thought hopefully, as she rechecked the dead bolt on her front door. She sat down on the sofa and reached for her late husband's gun lying on the coffee table. Long ago, when she was a young girl, her mother used to try to explain this time of year. "Honey, she would say, the "ole" dog days are here again, the cycle of the moon, the mean season, when for a while, even the best of folks go a little stir crazy. As the stifling heat continued to press in around her, she listened to the sounds of madness, rising like a fever on the other side of her walls. She knew from experience that no amount of wishing or praying could change these things. There was nothing that she could do, but sit tight, and wait for it to end. |
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| © Copyright 2001 Deborah L. Carter - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Wesley the Blue Member
since 1999-09-02
Posts 426Forest Lake, MN, USA |
Strange. We dont have summers quite that bad up here in duluth. But I liked it none the less. Excelent imagry. every day is a new day with which we can change the world |
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Romy Senior Member
since 2000-05-28
Posts 1170Plantation, Florida |
Are you talking about Duluth Georgia? I live in Georgia and it SEEMS about that bad! LOL! Thanks for the reply, I've been re-writing this off and on for a couple of years. I'm intrigued by the notion of a heat-wave that gets a little too hot...how WOULD some of us deal with it? |
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J.L. Humphres Member
since 2000-01-03
Posts 201Alabama |
Debbie, I enjoyed this. Have you ever read "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson? It seemed to have the same feel. Great read, thanks. J.L.H. P.S. One little thing, you could write a longer story out of this idea. I love what is here, but would love to know what happens later.  Jason God is a warm whisper from the cool void. Jack Kerouac |
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Romy Senior Member
since 2000-05-28
Posts 1170Plantation, Florida |
J.L., I have read "The Lottery" and other stories by Shirley Jackson! I love her style, finding the "sinister side" of normal people in everyday situations! I might like to make this longer but it was written as a "short-short". It was a sort of challenge to get it under 500 words (which I didn't) and then to under 250! It's at 600 now, and I'm having fun trying to see how much tighter I can make it! Thanks so much for your reply! Debbie |
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