I'm having difficulty with this story. I can't get my brain to write it the same way as I did before, and it keeps wanting to do it as a sequel to the first one, showing scenes and scenarios that didn't happen the first time, despite my desire to write it exactly, word-for-word how it was two months back. I began the story earlier than it used to start, and skipped over a scene where Tanissa and her father go out to dinner, but I don't know why.
I will try to remember how something worked the first time, and my brain will say, "Who cares? Let's do it differently. Let them turn left if they used to turn right." That's how I felt they must have written THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN, having just told Spidey's origin a decade before and trying not to cover any of the same ground, even though his is the best origin in comic books. Sigh.
***
They drove together in Dad's new truck--which was a 2007 with an ugly scratch on the tailgate--and she rolled the windows down
, sticking her head out so the wind
could blow against her. He asked her how
she was, how school ended, whether she had a boyfriend, and how her mother was
doing. For some reason, being with her
dad like this made her feel like a little girl again, when being around her
mother always made her feel grown up and desperate to get away.
Suddenly, Dad turned the radio down
several notches. “Look, if it’s a real
problem, I can call in sick tomorrow, maybe lose my job.”
“No,
it’ll be okay, Daddy,” Tanissa said.
“You
sure?”
“I’m
sure.”
“Okay,
good. ‘Cause I wasn’t really gonna lose
my job over this.” He laughed, but it
wasn’t really very funny. They got
milkshakes and chili dogs from a retro Fifties diner, then went to the
apartment complex. It was a big, squat
building with four levels, about twenty units, and even an elevator.
“Wow,
fancy,” she said, but the elevator had an extra stong orange peel smell that
she didn’t find pleasant.
“You
know, there’s a kid about your age down on first,” Dad said, as they rose
toward the third floor. “Maybe you can
play with her.”
“I’m
thirteen, Daddy, I don’t play anymore.”
“Okay,
maybe you can go club-hopping and out for cocktails with her.”
Tanissa ignored him. “What’s she like?”
“Fat. White.
Kinda loud. I helped her mom move
a couch when they moved in.” He
shrugged. “The mom seemed alright.”
“Okay,”
Tanissa said, and yawned. She shouldn’t
have been jet-lagged, and though she might lay down for a minute. Her cellphone rang, and she looked at
it. “It’s Mama.”
He
put on a big smile, reminding her they had a secret. She didn’t tell.
1 comment:
On board so far Rish - keep it coming ! :-)
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