Cover image made in CANVA using free elements.
The Ink Well Prompt: Sinkhole
This week the challenge was to embrace action! My piece only covers 30 seconds, but a lot can happen in a short space of time.
The family had been summoned. It was not an entirely unusual occurrence, but it signalled something big was about to happen; something would be announced. The summoner, Wanda Mathers, was a woman with formidable facial expressions; she had the ability to tilt her head and find just the right slant of her mouth that would allow her agenda to be met.
Wanda took a seat at the dining room table. Not the informal dining table near the television, but the mahogany table in the good room. The table had been set with her crocheted place mats. Her son, Noah, never felt comfortable with this setting as he perceived they sought to lull him into a sense of ease which was never maintained. He did, however, dart his eyes to the cutlery at each of the place settings, and he was delighted to see a spoon. He knew that his mother always sought to use dessert as a way to break the tension after her announcements, and Noah appreciated any opportunity for custard.
Wanda looked from Noah across to her husband, Lionel Mathers. She was pleased that he had the good sense to keep his necktie on through dinner tonight. Lionel was nervous. He knew his wife all too well, and despite the physical distance which had been growing in their marriage, he knew he should be nervous. He began to survey the plates of food which had been placed in the centre of the table. He noted there were beetroots. He was pleased to see them, and he tentatively looked back towards his wife, hoping to avoid eye contact but seeking to open the meal in the most assertive manner he could.
Wanda’s eyes were, however, more focused on their daughter’s fingernails. Janine had placed her hands on the table; she had not embraced the formal decorum that the formal dining table demanded. Her fingernails, Wanda noticed, had been chewed back. She could see each nail’s uneven edge and she was not impressed. Wanda blinked, quite deliberately, twice. Janine immediately repositioned her hands into her lap and sat up with a far more proper posture. Her gaze fell to her lap, and she understood it was safer to wait in silence.
Noah’s discomfort continued to grow, and he was becoming increasingly certain that he would be the subject of the evening’s family gathering. His report card had not allowed his mother to have her ego flattered. No one from the school would be calling to tell her of the academic pursuits and ambitions of her son. Noah breathed in deeply, and Wanda raised a single eyebrow in his direction. He let his breath out and sat still.
Lionel noticed how still Noah was, and then he too, thought to tremble. He had noticed weeds beginning to come through the front pat but had not yet sprayed them. The intention of the skies to pour rains each day would be no excuse. In his mind, he repeated ‘Weeds must be sprayed’ a number of times, and then he again turned his attention to focus on the beetroots. Yet, he felt the need to look up; and when he did he observed that his wife’s chin was pointed in his direction. He felt compelled to act. But would he be the first to act?
Certainly, it would not be Janine. Her hands were now agitating in her lap, but she knew not to take a fork until her mother had said, ‘Let’s begin’. It was not so much family tradition, but ritual of the kind that many would associate with religious dogma. Wanda’s neck tensed, and she allowed saliva to build into her mouth. Her neck muscles mirrored the tension that was sat around the table; the thought grabbed her, that a sinkhole had opened up between the family. They had never been the family to sing carols together or to share a single tent, but there had been happier days. She announced, ‘Let’s begin’.
But Noah would not yet reach for the bounty in front of him. He knew better than to act first, and he acted out a clearing of his throat, bringing a fist to his mouth to cough. Janine, too, knew better than to act first and she dared to break her own silence, ‘It all looks so delicious’. It was a tired line, and while the food had been prepared to a standard worthy of at least a four star establishment, the triteness of the sentiment left Wanda raising the corner of her mouth towards the young woman.
That just left Lionel. Wanda looked across the table and brought her lips together. She did not smile, nor frown. Lionel knew the look, and he was immediately intimidated. He knew she was daring him to take the first serving. He knew she wanted him to lift the serving spoon and place it into the mashed potatoes and to heap a smothering across his plate. It was a cruel dare, yet, Wanda’s lips compelled him!
As if in slow motion, he reached for the serving spoon. Noah lowered his fist from his cough, and raised his eyebrows. How could his father be so foolish? Janine began to open her mouth in the shape of an ‘O’. She was increasingly feeling unsettled by the boldness of her father tonight. And then, Lionel seemed to hover the spoon above his plate. It was that moment that Wanda cleared her throat, grabbing the attention of the family who all looked to her in a synchronized movement. She made her announcement in a number of words, and then the potato splattered onto her husband’s plate.