Tag: salmon

Holiday Story

I went to a writing party last night (at @anyahatesbunnies‘ house!) and wrote a little Christmas story during one of the sprints. It’s not going to be in the novel at all, so I thought I’d post it here. But, as usual, it’s kind of depressing, so feel free to skip. 🙂 

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[Salmon Coal, age 12- Lyndoch, Massachusetts]

I watched the snow from the couch, ribs pressed into the backing until it hurt to breathe. My breath fogged the glass, but it didn’t really matter; it was too dark to see past the four foot circle of light cast by the lantern even if he /was/ coming home. Sighing, I let my forehead drop against the cool pane of glass and closed my eyes. 

There wasn’t a point to waiting up. Mom had given up two hours ago. The same thing happened last year, and the year before that. 

“He’s working,” she’d said. “You know how it is with film production studios; they have deadlines and tight budgets. It makes it hard for them to live a normal life.”

So why, then, did he get married and have a kid? Why buy a house all the way across the country? 

“Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean that he’s not human, that he doesn’t want to do those things…”

Her excuses slipped further and further away from reason and confidence. I knew she wanted to know, too.

I could get by most of the time without him. I went to school, did my homework at the library, and read until I fell asleep. I ran around with Theo and tried to help him with his grand schemes, even when they didn’t make any sense. Hell, I made sure to watch his show every week- new episodes every Thursday night -and it almost felt like he was home. 

But it was Christmas eve. Or, well, Christmas now… 12:05 am… and he wasn’t here.

Who doesn’t go home for Christmas?

Who has a family and stays at work anyway?

The card he’d sent, promising that he’d be there, had been abandoned on the table long before Mom had even gone to bed. 

“He probably had his assistant sign it for him.” She’d sniffed, wrinkling her nose like the card smelled rotten, and dropped it into my hands for me to look at. “Can’t even make time to sign a card… God, William…”

I let myself look at the dark driveway again- still empty -and drew a frowning face over my dim reflection. The snow was undisturbed; white and pure, unmarred by any tire tracks or footprints. If he’d come, even if he had to park on the street, I’d go out and help bring his things in. I wasn’t wearing any shoes, but that didn’t matter. I’d run. 

“Dad.” I muttered, keeping my voice low just in case Mom wasn’t really asleep upstairs. “Come home.”

If you come home, I’ll forgive you.

If you come home, it’ll be okay.

Mom won’t make good on her promise of this being the last time. She won’t give up on you. I won’t, either. 

There’s still time.

I settled back down on the cushions, breathing out slowly in relief when my side stopped hurting. 

The snow fell, drifting in careless circles before settling down to rest with its family. 

Maybe I should give up, too. If he really wasn’t coming, I could still go crawl into bed with Mom and keep her company until Christmas morning. Why was I sitting in my pajamas against the window? I was cold and stiff and my body hurt, cramped from being so still for so long. 

I was tired. All of me was. 

I looked to the stairs, dark except for the Christmas lights wrapped around the railing, then at the Christmas tree in the corner. Presents, wrapped by Mom and me, crowded around the trunk of our very real tree. 

Did we need Dad for a merry Christmas?

I drew this on the train ride home last night… I like how the cat turned out, but I still have a long way to go, re: drawing humans.

I don’t want to log into my writing account because I really need to clean up my follow list… but I also really want to share some writing so here you go:

From Lyndoch to Boston was thirty minutes in good traffic. She played with the radio, I told her to put her seatbelt back on. Then there was this whole ‘thanks, dad’ sarcastic comment thing and I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t a murderer, but it seemed like that would be a bad idea, so I didn’t.
Instead I said something stupid, but not nearly as insensitive.
“So I don’t know how much Theo told you about Wonder Woman and I…”
That grabbed her attention in an instant, and I kept my eyes carefully fixed on the road ahead. There were a lot of windy paths in the forest to get through before hitting the major roads.
“He said that you really liked her.”
I could tell by the sort of lilt in her voice that she was trying not to laugh at me, but still wanted to tease me.  "Yeah. She was my first crush.“ That wasn’t a bad thing to mention, was it? On a date? "Do you want to know why?”
“Does it have anything to do with her being an Amazon woman who wears a belt and a bathing suit?”
“No, no, none of that…” I shook my head. It was true; her uniform had always seemed so impractical, and I just couldn’t get past it. “It’s because Batman trusts her.”
Lauriette recoiled, staring. “What the- you can’t just mix comic books like that! What are you talking about?”
“In Justice League, where all of the DC superheros team up, Batman trusts Wonder Woman. Which is saying something because he doesn’t trust anyone.”
“Wait, let me get this straight. You have a crush on Wonder Woman because a guy trusts her.”
I shrugged. “Bruce Wayne knows what he’s talking about. They were close, Bruce and Diana.”
“Diana?”
“That’s Wonder Woman’s name.”
“…really?”
“Yeah. There is a lot of support for their relationship, too, implied and otherwise.”
“Oh my GOD!” Lauriette cried, slumping in her seat, one arm over her forehead. It was almost Theo-level theatrics. “You are such a nerd! You might even be worse than my brother!”
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, taking the next turn before trying to defend myself. “Hey, he’s way worse. At least I have the facts to back up my argument.”
“No, that’s WHY you’re worse.” She laughed into her hand, nudging my leg with her foot. “Oh my god. I’ve never been on a date with a certified comic geek before.”
Frowning, I pulled my foot just out of reach, leg twisted awkwardly to still reach the pedal.
I thought everyone liked Batman.

I made honey-glazed carrots from scratch for the first time on Sunday. Ohhhhmmaannnn that dinner was tasty. It featured:

  • Baked salmon fillets (with lemon pepper and salt)
  • Red potatoes fried in olive oil with coarse sea salt and spinach
  • The aforementioned honey-glazed carrots 
  • Cheddar Bay biscuits (the kind from Red Lobster, from a box of mix)

it was waaaaayyyy too much food, though.

If my current novel, Fishsticks, were an anime… this would be our MC, Salmon. I guess in animeland he actually made the track team instead of failing… nice work, Salmon!

I like how irritated he looks. Cloverkite thinks he looks like ‘Koji’ regrown into high school… maybe trading soccer for basketball. Either way, I approve of this design, even though it’s not canon in either setting!