This is for Day 5 of the Fast & Furious Festival. The gist 👇
Twenty days of fast and furious writing, reading, commenting and having fun. Every day for twenty days, there will be a new prompt focusing on a different aspect of writing each day from character development and dialogue to setting and style and everything in between.
And you can still be a part of it as there is a short break to catch up to this point. So go over The Ink Well and read all about it.
Task
Lee was reported missing at the age of fifteen. He has been missing for more than thirty years.
Lee has been found and he is going to meet his parents for the first time in thirty years. Your story is going to be about their reunion. Think about the setting and how you could describe it to convey how Lee or his parents are feeling. Try to include some dialogue that tells us a little about the characters of Lee, his mum and his dad.
Lee's dimple twitched as he watched them from across the joggers' path. The park had enough trees and bushes to hide in, which made it perfect in the event he wanted to stay hidden right through. He had come early, but they had come earlier. They sat at the bench agreed upon via messages. A lady walking a dog approached him, and he hoped that wouldn't make them look his way. Just in case, he slipped behind a tree, a trunk of which could have hidden two of him and waited for the lady and dog to pass.
He wasn't altogether ready to meet them as yet. He wanted to observe them, be sure that the meeting would - well he wasn't sure. 32 years is a long time. Are they the same people? Is he the same boy, now man? The boy who was once a star athlete slowly falling out of graces as his body started changing, along with his interests.
Maybe it was stupid, the day he decided to run away to Megan. She had made him feel things he could not have imagined before that. Funny how a simple encounter at the supermarket could lead to the rest of his life. It was supposed to have been a quick run in for his energy drink and out to make it in time for swim training. Training that had started to bore him with each passing day.
As he strutted out, prepared to run all the way, he spotted her in her flip-flops and short shorts. She was in her early 30s but looked more like a teenager, piling her car with beer bottles, chips and instant noodles. He was on a very strict diet and eyeing her shopping cart filled with "rubbish" made him slow down. Just then, she dropped a bag of chips and he scooted over to pick it up for her. And the rest they say is history, though for your sake, here it is, in a nutshell.
She had offered to give him a ride to the pool, but they ended up at her home on the other side of town instead. No wonder, he had never run into her. One thing led to another, and in just two weeks, there was nothing he'd rather do then to spend time with her. She lived in a run-down shabby house, with hardly anything. Even her mattress was on the floor. Minimalism she called it. "I am one of the OG hippies" she laughed. Something about her carefree nature, had him hooked.
That relationship fizzled out as quickly as it escalated. One minute, he was at her doorstep, in the still of the night, begging her to take him in. The next minute she was kicking him out, asking him to go find some other sugar mummy. The relationship started to sour as soon as she suggested they find a way to take the money his parents offered to whoever could find their missing child. "Life's a balance, honey. When one gives, there must be a receiver. Besides, it's going to their own, you. I have friends who can help us out, and you can go back to your parents and school, we can still meet, and we'll have some money too. It's a win-win-win."
He would have done anything for her but not that. He had already hurt his parents enough and already felt terribly guilty about what he'd done. And seeing them on TV begging for information made things even worse. When he said "No", she shrugged her shoulders and didn't bring it up again but that slowly chipped at the relationship. Though he stayed hidden in her home for over 6 months, she eventually threw him out.
He was too embarrassed or maybe that's the word he used for scared, so he got on a bus with some money she had given him to leave her alone. A hoodie covered his hair and he kept his head down and went as far into the outskirts as possible. Back then, with no social media, it was easier to stay hidden. He got odd jobs and kept to himself for many years. Didn't get too close to anyone, and if he did, he just moved to another town. The guilt ate him like maggots do the dead.
Then he found out he had the Big C. His world came crashing down. Not because he was afraid of dying, in fact, it would put him out of his misery. Just that time was running out for one of the many ways he had played out in his head to explain everything to his parents. What he had put off for 32 years shouted in his ear his every waking moment and dragged him through hell in his nightmares. He had to give his parents closure. It was time to tell them.
It was easy enough to set things in motion. He got a private eye to look for them, for they had moved away to get away from all reminders. They left a number with a neighbour always calling back to check, once every month. More than 3 decades and they still checked to see if anyone had come around with any sort of news.
How could he have done this to them? But he had, and now it was time for retribution, and he'd receive it gladly. He wondered if he should fabricate a story, a white lie, to save them the hurt of what he had done or just tell them the truth. He was leaning towards the truth, so that way they could be angry and could hate him. They could join the hate party, he already loathed himself. Maybe The C was karma. There will be no heaven for him, only hell—a forever of the last 32 years.
He jumped when the dog came around the tree and barked at him. The lady pulled the dog away, giving him a displeased look, before continuing with her walk. He counted to 10 before looking around to see if they were still there. Yes, they were, looking around anxiously. He looked at his watch, he still had 5 minutes to decide and show up on time.
How his mother had aged. Once a swimmer like him, she was still lean, but her blonde hair was ash white, and her face wrinkled and freckled. One bony hand wiped away a strand of hair that fell over her face, then she turned to face the breeze. His dad, bald and just as frail as his mother held her hand. A sad, old couple waiting for their long-lost son. His mother was holding a picture, and he was guessing it must be of him. Had they forgotten what he looked like? Did they try to forget?
His mother's shoulder heaved, and her hand covered her mouth. His father leaned in and held her tight, whispering in her ear. She nodded and wiped away her tears. He tried to remember what their voices sounded like. His father had a booming voice like he was in a play, projecting to his audience. His mother, on the other hand, talked softly, almost with a purr, a pleased cat. He remembered encouragement, advice, scoldings, laughter, shouts of joy.
He had to do this. He had to come clean and let them know who he was. He stepped from around the tree. He remembered a TED Talk he once watched about pushing yourself to do something you dreaded. To count down and launch like a rocket. That way, you didn't have time to talk yourself out of it.
5, 4, 3, 2 and 1 -he launched, took two steps forward, and exactly then his parents looked around and saw him. They both stood up, but he realised how frail they were. They waited, while he half ran, half walked stopping 2 feet away, unsure whether to hug them or shake their hands. His mother, with tears rolling down her cheeks, grabbed him and kissed him. His father put his arms around both of them from behind her, and they stood like that for a long time.
The wind rustled the leaves, a couple of birds were chirping gayly, and the water fountain could be heard in the distance pouring into the lake. He felt he could explode in bliss, release all those butterflies in his stomach free.
"Lee, Lee, we thought we'd never see you again."
"How have you been, my son?"
He felt the tears roll down his cheeks. It felt so good to be in their arms. He was 47 years old, but he felt like he was ten, seven, three years old. He was their child.
"I'm so so sorry," he blurted. "I'm so sorry."
After hugs and kisses and more hugs, they sat down. They on the bench, he, kneeling down on the grass, holding their hands. It was like a confessional booth, and he had to tell them everything. They had to know, so they can decide if they really wanted him back in their lives. He did not deserve them.
"I have something to tell you," he stammered immediately.
"Shhhhh, shhhh," his mother said. "Let's go home, darling. Let's talk at home."
He shook his head. "Not yet. There is something you need to know."
His father placed his hand over his mother's, which was holding his. "We know," he said. "It's a long story, but that woman, Megan? She told us what happened - for a price. And we have been looking for you ever since."
"But that's all behind us now. I am so happy that you have finally decided to come back to us. Come, let's go home. Let's go home and be a family again."
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And that's what came from my 25 minutes of collective writing today. Collective because today was Day 1 of the academic year and the kids are starting off with online classes till further notice. They had to use my laptop, so I had to steal time in between their breaks and my chores to get some writing in.
What have I learnt from reading the other participants? I think I do alright with explaining feelings and thoughts but a little weak with setting up the surroundings. So I worked on it in today's story, but it still needs work, which is something I will be consciously doing from here on :D.
Thank you for reading😊
Till next time, Carpe Diem❣️
Sh33la