Jason pulled open the refrigerator door. The little light flickered on, illuminating shelves of deli meat, a bowl filled with last nights chicken Alfredo, the last bottle of a Budweiser six pack, and a gallon of milk.Scanning the shelves lightly for anything he might also like, he pulled the milk out of the fridge, closed the door with his knee, and put the jug on the counter. The kitchen was roughly three meters, by five. Just large enough to contain one full sized fridge, a sink and counter combination, some cupboards, an oven, and small table with three wooden chairs. The floor was speckled green linoleum that reminded Jason of vomit, and the light bulb cast a dinghy yellow light across everything.
Running his hands through his hair Jason cast another glance at the digital clock on the oven. “Where is that boy?” muttered Jason to himself. The clock read 12:33, proclaiming Jason’s son Nick a full thirty-three minutes late for curfew. It wasn’t uncommon for Nick to come home late, but he normally called to say he wasn’t going to be home on time. Jason knew something was up with Nick, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. In the past month he’d become more and more elusive. He was never doing anything that Jason could mark as wrong, but he seemed to be constantly busy. He was off to school before Jason, and it was becoming a growing routine for Jason to fall asleep on the sofa when Nick came home at night. Tonight, when Jason woke up to find Nick still hadn’t come home he decided it was high time to talk with the boy.
The dishes chimed against each other as he pulled a cup from the middle of their dish rack. Holding the cup up to the light he inspected its cleanliness. He slowly rotated it in his hands, watching the light refract off the glass. He then held it up to his eye, and closing the other one looked through the glass. There were some water spots on the bottom, and as the light penetrated them the glass turned into make shift kaleidoscope. Enthralled at his discovery Jason tilted his head back to get a better angle on the light. He tipped his head farther and farther backwards. The light continued to play off the water spots, beckoning him onwards. He followed, the little light show becoming more magical with each degree. He eventually had his head horizontal, and he held it there for a moment before gravity took over and he lost his balance. He took two choppy steps backwards, and would’ve fallen flat on his back if the counter hadn’t of stopped him. The drawers chattered under the impact, and Jason chuckled in reply. He’d had enough funny business and besides, he was angry with his son.
Turning around he unscrewed the lid off the jug, and tilted it over the glass. The milk slowly pooled to the bottle neck. There it waited until it had enough followers in one spot before it went tumbling over the brink. Down it fell towards the lip of the glass. At first it would be nothing but a downward stream. The first splashes would circle the bottom before the sheer weight of the rest smothered it into a suitable drink.
“Damn” whispered Jason under his breath. The milk hadn’t made it into the cup at all, but instead was now spreading in every direction across the counter top. Some of it pooled around the base of the cup, but the majority flowed over the edge and into a puddle on the floor. Putting the empty cup into the sink he snatched a rag and began wiping up the milk. It took a few tries as the milk refused to be absorbed into the rag, and every time Jason wiped his hand across the surface the milk only spread farther(most of it onto the floor). He eventually used the rag as a make shift bulldozer and was able to scoop most of it into the sink. Getting it off the floor was a bit harder, but that was solved after a matter of time. Some fifteen minutes later Jason had a full glass of milk in his hand.
Coincidentally enough, it was also at this exact moment that Jason saw two headlights through the kitchen window. Peeking through the small curtains he could make out a pair of never-winking eyes that made their way down the road towards his house. The make and model of the automobile was undetectable at first, but as it rumbled closer Jason began to make out the outline of a rickety Chevy Blazer. As it pulled into the driveway the engine quieted into dull roar, and Jason could see Nick’s silhouette step out of the car. He waved goodbye to his friend and swinging a backpack across his shoulders walked towards the house.
The living room where the front door was situated was only a few meters away from the kitchen. Close enough the Jason easily got there before Nick. The living room had blue-stripped wallpaper. Something the realtor said made it appear larger than it was. In the end though it still only had enough room for a sofa, coffee table, and a TV wedged into the corner. Even with the lights off Jason could still see the piles of magazines, plates, and beer bottles scattered across the room. Taking a swig from his milk he made himself comfortable by leaning against the wall. Nick’s footsteps echoed across the wooden porch, coming to a halt before the door. His keys rattled as he pulled them from his pack, and after he was able to find the right one it ground its way into the lock. The deadbolt squeaked as Nick slowly unlocked the door.
Jason pretended to have found a keen interest in his glass as he heard all this. Pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger he twirled the bottom in a lazy circle. The milk swirled slightly, but it didn’t move much. It knew that it wasn’t what Jason really wanted in his cup. The door opened and a slice of light slowly widened across the sofa, and coffee table. Nick’s silhouette filled the door frame and he walked through the door. He didn’t turn on the light immediately, but he instead put his keys on the table, and began untying his shoes. His effort to remain quiet was so painfully obvious that Jason felt his face begin to warm with blood. After Nick turned off the porch light and had the door halfway closed Jason flipped on the light saying “Don’t bother being so quiet boy. You’re not half as sneaky as you think you are.”
Like a criminal caught in the act Nick swung around his mouth open. “I’m sorry Dad, we lost track of time. We didn’t mean to be so late. I swear.”
Jason stopped leaning on the wall and took a step into the room. ”You know the rules boys, you’re too be ho…” he paused for a second. He’d only progressed a few feet into the middle of the room. He seemed to steady himself and then continued, “you’re to be home by midnight. Those’re the rules.”
“I know Dad.” Explained Nick “and I’m sorry, Greg and I were up by the River talking and we lost track of time. I swear it won’t happen again.”
“What’s so important that it needed talking about?”
“Well….” Started Nick, unsure of what to say.
“Well what?” probed Jason
“Well…Greg’s parents split up over a year ago. So..I feel like I can talk with him.”
“Why can’t you talk with me?”
“Well Greg and I understand each other.” said Nick shrugging his shoulders.
“And we don’t?” asked Jason “We always talked. What’s so different now that she’s gone?”
Nick didn’t look Jason straight in the eye when he replied. “Not much I guess.”
“Well then why do you need to be out talking till dawn?”
“Just cause it helps.”
“You think now that mommies gone you don’t have to come home at night?” Jason’s voice got louder with each word. “That your daddy ain’t gonna tell you what to do? Well listen here. Rules is rules, and you’re gonna be home by midnight or else I’ll belt you like I did when you was young.”
“I already said it won’t happen again.” Protested Nick.
“Won’t happen again!” Jason’s voice had risen to an all out yell “Darn right it won’t. You’ll be a good boy from now on.”
“Yes sir” said Nick. He crossed his arms in front of himself and his eyes were scanned the room, trying to focus on anything but his father. “I’ll be home by Midnight next time. We seriously just lost track of time.”
“How’d you lose track of time? Eh? Were you drinking? You trying to drown out all your troubles?” Nick shook his head vigorously. “You were drinking weren’t you? You dump stupid boy. Don’t you know drinking ain’t good for you.”
“What makes you think I was drinking?”
“I smells it” said Jason pointing to his nose.
“I wasn’t drinking at all. What proof do you have to accuse me?” Nick spread his arms wide, daring Jason to find an empty bottle on him.
“I smells it.” Stated Jason again
“Why the hell would I resort to drinking Dad? I’m not like you! Look at you. You can’t even stand up straight without wobbling. I don’t drown myself every night in scotch, rum, and beer! What you smell is your own breath.” Nick pointed to all the empty beer bottles scattered around the room. Jason vaguely remembered drinking them, but they couldn’t all have been his. “I’m going to bed Dad. We can talk about this tomorrow.” Nick slammed the door shut, and started making his way past Jason towards his bedroom. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight Dad.”
To this day Jason still doesn’t remember what demon possessed him at that moment, but the second Nick had passed him leaving his back exposed, Jason lifted the glass and slammed at across the back of Nick’s head. The glass shattered into dozens of pieces, milk spilled across the floor, and Nick dropped like a dead bird. At first the blood only darkened his hair, and then it began to drip, then flow onto the floor. It mixed with spilt milk, changing it from ivory white to a dingy red.
“Damn” muttered Jason to himself and as he gathered rags to clean up the mess a phrase his mother used to tell him went through his head. He couldn’t remember all of it, but it was something about spilt milk, and crying.
hope you enjoyed it and if you're still interested here's what my teacher had to say about it.
Great work here-- you've really polished this up since your generative writing. I think you describe Jason's behavior precisely and interestingly. I love the attention to detail-- great. The setting is nicely developed, too. I did think that I'd get a better idea of who Jason was if we heard a little bit more of his thoughts at the beginning. It's great that he's worrying about Nick. Maybe he could also be thinking about his hard day at work or something. For some reason it surprises me later in the story that Jason is so "blue collar" and colloquial in his conversation-- if this could be established earlier, I think his character will feel fuller.
On page 4, as Jason and Nick interact in dialogue, I thought that you could incorporate a little more of Jason's thoughts here, too. Maybe we could get a little more about how he feels Nick slipping away from him. Maybe even some memories of Nick when he was younger would be appropriate here. We see Jason get angry on the surface, so it will give him more depth as a character if we see what motivates that anger underneath it all. That will also help keep Jason from becoming too much of a stereotype, I think.
I think you did a terrific job with the "twist" here. Now instead of the story feeling like a gimmick, it feels like an accurate and thoughtful observation on a character's psychology. Jason is defensive, displaces his anger and guilt, and this feels just right. A strong piece, Seth! Thanks for your hard work.
