So this morning I did some writing at work. I was thinking of writing a few pages everyday and making it a blog story written through out a series of blogs. But it wouldn't take up every Toby K. blog post of course, I'd write other stuff too, it could be like a weekly post or something. I'm not sure though. I read it to my co-worker and she really liked it....but she's not my blog followers, you are, so here's the trial. Give me a yay or nay and it dosen't mather either way (Ha! Rhymes.), but really I am curious to what you think----
Michael Layman’s eyes shot open the morning of March 8th and stared blankly at the white wash ceiling glimmering from the rays of the morning sun. It was Tuesday and Michael knew his parents would be returning from their Caribbean vacation any minute, trotting in with flowered shirts and newly tanned bodies.
It seemed that just yesterday they were saying their goodbyes at the small American Airlines check in counter, his mother sobbing into her sleeves and his father too busy checking the bags.
“-and don’t forget to feed the fish, and remember my plants, and, and-“, his mother, Carolynn, said through her sniffles, “and one last hug, please”.
“Mom, this is like our sixth hug in the last hour,” Michael said.
“You won’t see your mother for two weeks and you won’t even do her the favor of giving her a hug”, Carolynn said lifting a sagging sleeve to her trembling lips.
“Mom, that’s not what I mean”, said Michael leaning in for a hug. Michael towered over his mother matching 5’11 to her 5’ foot frame and still wisps of her thick curly Italian hair managed to itch his nose. Michael waved away the tickling sensation as Carolynn pulled back now starring at Michael’s father.
“John, please give your son a hug goodbye,” she said.
“What was that, Hun?” John said, still looking down at the machine ejecting the two plane tickets to Miami’s International Airport.
“A hug, John, for your son”, Carolynn urged.
“Oh, yeah, love you too son”, said an unaware John, waving a hand over his bent shoulder as he made the final adjustments to his bags.
Michael chuckled as he thought back, but too soon refocused on the current day, slowly coming to terms with the fact that he would no longer have the house to himself. The past two weeks were spent lounging on the plush couches, flipping through the pages of his mother’s Home and Garden magazines, and eating nothing but Cheerio’s and Top Roman.
“John, can you please focus and help me get these suitcases from the trunk?” Michael heard his mother’s plea from outside his open window. Michael sighed, sat up in his bed, and peeked over his right shoulder, seeing through his window, where down on the street his parents attempted to carry in their entire set of luggage at once. “John, please hurry, I want to see Michael; I’m sure he’s missed us.” Said Carolynn, following John step by step up the cement drive way.
“Carol Honey, I can only go so fast carrying three suitcases and a forty pound makeup bag”, John continued up the drive.
“John Layman, don’t be so ridiculous”, Carolynn huffed inching closer and closer to John’s heels.
Michael watched his parent’s slow ascension towards the house and then disappear under the front porch awning.
“John, really, how hard is it to find the key, on a key-ring of only three keys?!” Carolynn probed and leaned her chin around the side of John’s shoulder.
Michael, still sitting in his bed, reached his arm down to the floor inching his fingers across the matted carpet until he felt the fabric of his favorite tee-shirt. The fabric once black, had greened over time and a large hole found home under the rim of its collar. The design on the front, he remembered, had been a dragon winding it’s tale around the branches of an apple tree, blowing fire down the left side of the shirt; now the design had warn and peeled, leaving only blotches of color sporadically throughout the middle. He heard the front door open and the immediate shout of his mother attempting to disguise her excitement and failing in short order, “Michael, we’re home!”
Michael sighed as he took his time turning his shirt inside out.
“Michael! We’re home!” the words echoed as Carolynn searched through the different rooms of the house.
“He’s probably upstairs in his room sleeping” John mumbled without looking up from where he stood in the kitchen, hovering over two weeks of newspaper Sport sections.
“You’re probably right”, Carolynn said as she marched past the kitchen towards the stairs, “Michael. We’re home!”
Michael finally slipped his shirt over his head when he heard his mother on hot pursuit, “Michael!”; and with one sharp thrust Carolynn opened the door and pushed her head into Michael’s room, “Michael Sweetie, we’re home”, she said beaming.
“Hi, Mom” Michael said, now standing and wearing, along with his green dragon-less shirt, a pair of dark straight legged jeans embellished with years of wear and tear at the knees, “I’ll be down in a minute, kay?” Michael, now forcing a smile.
“Oh, well- of course”, Carolynn said, distracted by the look of Michael’s room, “you probably want to get dressed any how”, she smiled and nodded.
“I am dressed”.
“Well,” she paused awkwardly, “indeed you are; but you might want to do something with your hair,” she said leaning in, and whispering, “you’re starting to look a little shaggy”, ending with a wink and nod.
“Of course sweetie, any time. Oh, and your father is very excited to see you” Carolynn said pulling away from the door but still sustaining her smiling face until the door finally closed.
Soooooooo? Should I continue? Or maybe continue it but just not through a blog?....Oh the mounding questions (joke).
(ps. I kind of hate and kind of love Michael's name. I might change it later if I get too sick of seeing it all the time.)