Holiday from Hell
a short story by Diana Weeks
I knew the dog was sick when he first walked in, because he was so thin.
I told them there's something wrong with this dog”.
I was already pissed that my tender hearted daughter, a teacher, had agreed to dog sit for neighbors over the holidays…’cause the guy had just been laid off. Boo hooo.
I lost my whole retirement nest egg when the stock market crashed… I had to move in with my youngest, her husband, two boys, a girl and two big black boxer dogs.
The giddy couple and their only son, the dog owner... Dropped Mr. Andy off… for us to care for… while they drove 1,800 miles to visit his out of state family.
Mr. Andy, a frog footed golden retriever puppy is three feet high and liked my room best. Thus adding more animal responsibility. My oldest grandson is raising two pigs to show at the San Antonio fat stock show. The pigs must be fed morning and evening and the pigs require special diets…separate food mixtures… when is enough?
It's true; I do slip the dogs a taste of people food once in a while... So when Mr. Andy started vomiting, I was blamed. “The other dogs are okay” I defended and fixed Mr. Andy some chicken soup. “Yes, I took out the bones”. And he threw that up all over the house. Poor thing couldn't hold down water.
My daughter called the couple that the dog wasn't well. “He'll be okay “they sang, clearly intoxicated.
Mr. Andy got sicker and sicker and the puke was getting tracked all over the place. Vomiting faster than we could find and mop up. At three am New Years Eve Andy had to be taken to the emergency pet clinic. We didn't want to spend that much money, but could not let the dog die on our watch.
Seven hundred and fifty dollars later…“kidney failure” the vet diagnosed...Prognosis “terribly sad”, a slim chance Mr. Andy could be saved by a costly surgery. “These dogs sometimes have a birth defect blockage that grows as they do”
Can Mr. Andy stay alive until his real family returns January 3rd? “Probably not”. The neighbors had to be called. They agreed to return as soon as they could pack.
The clinic doesn't board so Mr. Andy had to come back home with us. I warmed my cosy microwave heated pillow and put it beside listless Mr. Andy on a pile of blankets and I'll pet Andy's head tell he goes to sleep. I pray he lives til his young master gets here to say goodbye. “And please dear god, find me a job so I can move and live alone again”.
The end
All rights reserved
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Chevo Rapes Rabbitta
Chevo Rapes Rabbitta
A Short Story by Diana Weeks
When I answered the phone Carmen was talking in spanish through sobbing gulps of panic.
“What's happening in English, please”. She had been giving me lessons, but I wasn’t a good student. We’d been friends since living in UT student housing and our children started playing together, three years ago.
“Come quick, on…da…lay, chevo is raping Ruben's pet rabbit”! Chevo was their family’s tiny mexican chi..wawa… “hurry!” Carmen yelled, “run… the animals are under the house”.
I grabbed my youngest, Ellen and trotted with her getting a piggy back ride… across the four Austin shaded blocks. Carmen's kids Ruben and Gloria and Mime, Shane and Rene’ were squatted on the ground screaming and crying and watching.
I put Ellen down and crawled under the house. Chevo dropped the limp rabbit and ran past me… to lick Ellen's face. The rabbit was very very still…clearly not caught in an affectionate mood. “We’ll have a nice funeral for peterette. You children can sing ‘i want to be a sunbeam’…and we’ll pick some flowers…Carmen get something to wrap her in… and a box. Have you got a shovel?
I tucked the limp bloody body under the faded blue baby blanket so just her pale gray fur head was visible…and turned her ears to show the pink inside.
Immediately following the burial of peterette… the boys, who were both eight wanted to know what chevo did to the rabbit to kill it.. And did he do it on purpose?
Carmen took Ellen and our daughters …deeming five too young for bees or birds. She seated us at her kitchen table and armed me with paper and pen…and took the girls… back outside. “Chevo got confused” I explained. “It’s normal for animals to mate” how do they mate? Both boys wanted to know. So I drew them pictures. “I don’t know why chevo thought the rabbit was a dog” I admitted.
“He thinks my leg is a dog” Ruben said. He wanted to keep the drawings and after I left he wanted his mother to explain everything I had told them…again in English and Spanish!
The End
All rights Reserved
A Short Story by Diana Weeks
When I answered the phone Carmen was talking in spanish through sobbing gulps of panic.
“What's happening in English, please”. She had been giving me lessons, but I wasn’t a good student. We’d been friends since living in UT student housing and our children started playing together, three years ago.
“Come quick, on…da…lay, chevo is raping Ruben's pet rabbit”! Chevo was their family’s tiny mexican chi..wawa… “hurry!” Carmen yelled, “run… the animals are under the house”.
I grabbed my youngest, Ellen and trotted with her getting a piggy back ride… across the four Austin shaded blocks. Carmen's kids Ruben and Gloria and Mime, Shane and Rene’ were squatted on the ground screaming and crying and watching.
I put Ellen down and crawled under the house. Chevo dropped the limp rabbit and ran past me… to lick Ellen's face. The rabbit was very very still…clearly not caught in an affectionate mood. “We’ll have a nice funeral for peterette. You children can sing ‘i want to be a sunbeam’…and we’ll pick some flowers…Carmen get something to wrap her in… and a box. Have you got a shovel?
I tucked the limp bloody body under the faded blue baby blanket so just her pale gray fur head was visible…and turned her ears to show the pink inside.
Immediately following the burial of peterette… the boys, who were both eight wanted to know what chevo did to the rabbit to kill it.. And did he do it on purpose?
Carmen took Ellen and our daughters …deeming five too young for bees or birds. She seated us at her kitchen table and armed me with paper and pen…and took the girls… back outside. “Chevo got confused” I explained. “It’s normal for animals to mate” how do they mate? Both boys wanted to know. So I drew them pictures. “I don’t know why chevo thought the rabbit was a dog” I admitted.
“He thinks my leg is a dog” Ruben said. He wanted to keep the drawings and after I left he wanted his mother to explain everything I had told them…again in English and Spanish!
The End
All rights Reserved
Monday, November 30, 2009
Stealing Marshmallows
Stealing Marshmallows
A short story by Diana Weeks
The first thing I taught my new brother Bubba…was not to ever tattle tail. I was five… and already… doing… forbidden things… like eating marshmallows straight from the box… while Mama hangs the wash… on the back yard clothes line.
I had… to pull out… the bottom kitchen drawer… and stand on the edge; to reach the second shelf… in the tall red trimmed… closed door cabinets… then I could reach the delights:…twenty-four puffy… powdered sugar coated… confections.
When I lifted… the tucked lid of the box…they were packed layered… three rows of four. Two each is what got me caught. …four marshmallows were missed… and affected Mom’s dessert recipe. The cereal flaked off.
Marshmallows were only purchased to make Daddy’s favorite …rice krispy treats… I was deemed too young to cook, as I might burn myself… Mama didn’t make them often… the tempting…white rounded… squarish… squishy… sweet lured me… to snitch a few once in a while.
Bubba was my look- out… sitting around the corner… because as soon as he sees Mama… he shouts “Mama”… she stoops to hug him… I climb down… to merely be… peering into the wax paper drawer. …to get a piece… to cover my crayola drawing…alibi ready.
If pressed the truth; “but we only wanted to play pretend… cowboys… and roast the marshmallows on the meat fork… over the top front gas burner… then I could flatten… the melted charred marshmallow… between two graham crackers… and add two hershey chocolate squares… to make smores.
Mama didn’t believe in spanking… she frowned at me… and said “I'll talk to you later”…never good news. I had coached Bubba on the “Mama” warning yell. I would clap… when he did it as a baby…until it became a habit Mom loved.
I never stand to near Bubba… when I mis…behave.
It’s best to be way out of sight.
The End
All Rights Reserved
A short story by Diana Weeks
The first thing I taught my new brother Bubba…was not to ever tattle tail. I was five… and already… doing… forbidden things… like eating marshmallows straight from the box… while Mama hangs the wash… on the back yard clothes line.
I had… to pull out… the bottom kitchen drawer… and stand on the edge; to reach the second shelf… in the tall red trimmed… closed door cabinets… then I could reach the delights:…twenty-four puffy… powdered sugar coated… confections.
When I lifted… the tucked lid of the box…they were packed layered… three rows of four. Two each is what got me caught. …four marshmallows were missed… and affected Mom’s dessert recipe. The cereal flaked off.
Marshmallows were only purchased to make Daddy’s favorite …rice krispy treats… I was deemed too young to cook, as I might burn myself… Mama didn’t make them often… the tempting…white rounded… squarish… squishy… sweet lured me… to snitch a few once in a while.
Bubba was my look- out… sitting around the corner… because as soon as he sees Mama… he shouts “Mama”… she stoops to hug him… I climb down… to merely be… peering into the wax paper drawer. …to get a piece… to cover my crayola drawing…alibi ready.
If pressed the truth; “but we only wanted to play pretend… cowboys… and roast the marshmallows on the meat fork… over the top front gas burner… then I could flatten… the melted charred marshmallow… between two graham crackers… and add two hershey chocolate squares… to make smores.
Mama didn’t believe in spanking… she frowned at me… and said “I'll talk to you later”…never good news. I had coached Bubba on the “Mama” warning yell. I would clap… when he did it as a baby…until it became a habit Mom loved.
I never stand to near Bubba… when I mis…behave.
It’s best to be way out of sight.
The End
All Rights Reserved
Monday, November 16, 2009
Cousin's Compete
Cousin's Compete
a short story by Diana Weeks (422 words)
I peeked through the living room white wooden venetian blinds and groaned. Rats, aunt Gwendolyn and uncle Arthur were already pulling into our empty gravel driveway.
Earlier I had heard my mother, in her desperate for company voice, say into the kitchen wall phone. 'We'll be home after supper, come on over”.
Darn, now we won't be listening to fibber Magee and Molly on our radio. Their boy mickey, my little brother Roy's age and their prissy pants girl, a stuck up year older than me were getting out of their 39 green Chevy's back seat. And oh no, Gayle was lugging the big case that held her accordion. Hoisting it made her golden nger coils spring against the tug of a wide blue grosgrain ribbon tightly bowed.
I have mousy unruly brown lank hair that does whatever it wants to. I plan to peroxide it when I'm old enough. I bite my nails. Gayle paints hers pink and smells of lavender.
The running water sound was cut of in the kitchen and daddy put down his Sunday paper and winked at me. Mother came in drying her hands on her apron, and Roy came out of the back bedroom carrying his deck of go fish cards.
Aunt Gwen did bring a smile to my cheeks carrying a merange topped pie. She got a hug and kiss. Uncle art patted me on the head. Mama took the pie.
'You children can play in here while the coffee perks, then we'll; have some lemon pie' auntie announced, clapping her hands. 'And maybe we can get Gayle to play the new songs she's learned on her accordion.
Daddy piped up ”and we'll see what Lois learned in her dance classes”.
He would have known if he didn't work nights printing newspapers and missed my recreation department recital at the big Will Rogers auditorium last week. Me and a line of kids sang and tapped to “old McDonald had a farm e i e i oh”.
My brother laughed. He didn't have to take dance lessons, he was only seven and I was nine and bashful. “Make her put on her costume” the little blabber mouth shouted.
”Yes” momma agreed, eager to get her five dollars worth, paid to a seamstress to make the red and white poke a dot short dance dress and the half moon brimmed hat, that tied under my chin. Mother grinned, her niece didn't have a costume to go with her accordion performance.
The End
All Rights Reserved
a short story by Diana Weeks (422 words)
I peeked through the living room white wooden venetian blinds and groaned. Rats, aunt Gwendolyn and uncle Arthur were already pulling into our empty gravel driveway.
Earlier I had heard my mother, in her desperate for company voice, say into the kitchen wall phone. 'We'll be home after supper, come on over”.
Darn, now we won't be listening to fibber Magee and Molly on our radio. Their boy mickey, my little brother Roy's age and their prissy pants girl, a stuck up year older than me were getting out of their 39 green Chevy's back seat. And oh no, Gayle was lugging the big case that held her accordion. Hoisting it made her golden nger coils spring against the tug of a wide blue grosgrain ribbon tightly bowed.
I have mousy unruly brown lank hair that does whatever it wants to. I plan to peroxide it when I'm old enough. I bite my nails. Gayle paints hers pink and smells of lavender.
The running water sound was cut of in the kitchen and daddy put down his Sunday paper and winked at me. Mother came in drying her hands on her apron, and Roy came out of the back bedroom carrying his deck of go fish cards.
Aunt Gwen did bring a smile to my cheeks carrying a merange topped pie. She got a hug and kiss. Uncle art patted me on the head. Mama took the pie.
'You children can play in here while the coffee perks, then we'll; have some lemon pie' auntie announced, clapping her hands. 'And maybe we can get Gayle to play the new songs she's learned on her accordion.
Daddy piped up ”and we'll see what Lois learned in her dance classes”.
He would have known if he didn't work nights printing newspapers and missed my recreation department recital at the big Will Rogers auditorium last week. Me and a line of kids sang and tapped to “old McDonald had a farm e i e i oh”.
My brother laughed. He didn't have to take dance lessons, he was only seven and I was nine and bashful. “Make her put on her costume” the little blabber mouth shouted.
”Yes” momma agreed, eager to get her five dollars worth, paid to a seamstress to make the red and white poke a dot short dance dress and the half moon brimmed hat, that tied under my chin. Mother grinned, her niece didn't have a costume to go with her accordion performance.
The End
All Rights Reserved
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Sally and Norman
Sally and Norman
a short story by Diana Weeks
It was pure chance that had Sally standing at the kitchen sink looking at the apartment complex parking lot when her new husband Norm drove into their assigned spot. She smiled… studying the gray cow lick falling almost in his dark blue eyes… waiting for him to come in and hug her….
He just sat there. Norman didn’t bound out of the car which was strange because he’s always in a hurry. A frown plowed indentions across Sally’s forehead. She wanted to yell…like a cheer leader. “What are you waiting for”?
Finally Norm looked over at the passenger’s seat. “Oh, he did remember my birthday” Sally thought and felt joy rush to her brain. She lifted on her tip toes watching but he got out empty handed.
“Oh well he’s remembering this is budget night, I reminded him before he left this morning he knows we’re over our monthly bills”… Sally told herself… because since she lost her job they really had to be careful, she liked to account for every penny. All bills were paid before the tenth.
She was at the door to greet him with a juicy kiss. Norman was surprised and delighted. “Is it my birthday too”? Sally laughed. “I didn’t forget” he said proudly as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded note and handed it to her. “Go on read it now” Sally looked at the note blushed and read. “Let’s go to bed early, I’m hungry for you”. He gave her a tender kiss lightly touching her lips with the tiny tip of his tongue.
“Suppers ready” she told him and he went to the cabinet to get plates and suddenly yelled “Stop that” out the window. He turned to run toward the parking lot. Someone’s burglarizing cars and he’s heading toward ours.” he yelled back at her.
“I’ll call 911.” Sally ran for the phone, Norman was out the door. “Wait for help” she screamed at his back.
Norm looked over his shoulder “Damn him, he busted our window” looking at their cars’ open door. “Oh no you’re not… you’re under arrest” Norman pulls a gun from his chest holster and fires. The man falls dropping an I- pod box”..
The burglar isn’t moving. “Is he dead?” Sally cries. “There’s a lot of blood”.
“I was just going to wing him” Sally kneels down and puts her hand over the hole in the man’s chest and starts CPR. Norm kneels down and feels for the burglar’s neck pulse. “Keep going…maybe we can save him.” I was so relieved that his anger disappeared once he “caught the would be thief”.
“What’s the I-pod doing in our car; I thought we agreed that we couldn’t afford it this month”.
“It was practically given to me.”
“How much”? as she bends to blow breath into the burglars mouth.
“Let me do that. What…is this a boyfriend of yours or something?” he said and winked suggestively.
Leaning back Sally asked, “How much?”
Norm breaths in the guy’s mouth. “Damn, he’s been eating garlic.
How much did you pay for the I-pod?”
"Twenty bucks. What a bargain... Can you believe it?”
"Then it was ‘hot,’” Sally declared. "When you buy stolen things it encourages stealing."
Sirens squeal and a squad car burns rubber stopping. Suddenly the EMS folks were moving closer behind …a police Lt. in the lead spoke respectfully to Norman “Good evening Chief “an nods at Sally “And Mrs. Chief.” Sally smiled and left to go make coffee for everyone.
Norman sighs and lets the emergency nurse take over and stands scolding himself under his breath…”I just had to marry an idealistic women”.
His best friend the LT grinned. “I told you she wouldn’t understand these little mishaps.”
“But I’m retiring soon…I didn’t want to be bored!” They walk over to look at the big man on the gurney. “Maybe she’ll bring you luck. We’ve been trying to catch a guy that looks like him…who broke into 30 cars in the Galleria parking lot…last month. He waved at the security cameras.” The pal’s chuckle. Norm claps…. “I should take her to Vegas.”
THE END
-- "Sally and Norman" (c) 2009, Diana Weeks, All Rights Reserved
a short story by Diana Weeks
It was pure chance that had Sally standing at the kitchen sink looking at the apartment complex parking lot when her new husband Norm drove into their assigned spot. She smiled… studying the gray cow lick falling almost in his dark blue eyes… waiting for him to come in and hug her….
He just sat there. Norman didn’t bound out of the car which was strange because he’s always in a hurry. A frown plowed indentions across Sally’s forehead. She wanted to yell…like a cheer leader. “What are you waiting for”?
Finally Norm looked over at the passenger’s seat. “Oh, he did remember my birthday” Sally thought and felt joy rush to her brain. She lifted on her tip toes watching but he got out empty handed.
“Oh well he’s remembering this is budget night, I reminded him before he left this morning he knows we’re over our monthly bills”… Sally told herself… because since she lost her job they really had to be careful, she liked to account for every penny. All bills were paid before the tenth.
She was at the door to greet him with a juicy kiss. Norman was surprised and delighted. “Is it my birthday too”? Sally laughed. “I didn’t forget” he said proudly as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded note and handed it to her. “Go on read it now” Sally looked at the note blushed and read. “Let’s go to bed early, I’m hungry for you”. He gave her a tender kiss lightly touching her lips with the tiny tip of his tongue.
“Suppers ready” she told him and he went to the cabinet to get plates and suddenly yelled “Stop that” out the window. He turned to run toward the parking lot. Someone’s burglarizing cars and he’s heading toward ours.” he yelled back at her.
“I’ll call 911.” Sally ran for the phone, Norman was out the door. “Wait for help” she screamed at his back.
Norm looked over his shoulder “Damn him, he busted our window” looking at their cars’ open door. “Oh no you’re not… you’re under arrest” Norman pulls a gun from his chest holster and fires. The man falls dropping an I- pod box”..
The burglar isn’t moving. “Is he dead?” Sally cries. “There’s a lot of blood”.
“I was just going to wing him” Sally kneels down and puts her hand over the hole in the man’s chest and starts CPR. Norm kneels down and feels for the burglar’s neck pulse. “Keep going…maybe we can save him.” I was so relieved that his anger disappeared once he “caught the would be thief”.
“What’s the I-pod doing in our car; I thought we agreed that we couldn’t afford it this month”.
“It was practically given to me.”
“How much”? as she bends to blow breath into the burglars mouth.
“Let me do that. What…is this a boyfriend of yours or something?” he said and winked suggestively.
Leaning back Sally asked, “How much?”
Norm breaths in the guy’s mouth. “Damn, he’s been eating garlic.
How much did you pay for the I-pod?”
"Twenty bucks. What a bargain... Can you believe it?”
"Then it was ‘hot,’” Sally declared. "When you buy stolen things it encourages stealing."
Sirens squeal and a squad car burns rubber stopping. Suddenly the EMS folks were moving closer behind …a police Lt. in the lead spoke respectfully to Norman “Good evening Chief “an nods at Sally “And Mrs. Chief.” Sally smiled and left to go make coffee for everyone.
Norman sighs and lets the emergency nurse take over and stands scolding himself under his breath…”I just had to marry an idealistic women”.
His best friend the LT grinned. “I told you she wouldn’t understand these little mishaps.”
“But I’m retiring soon…I didn’t want to be bored!” They walk over to look at the big man on the gurney. “Maybe she’ll bring you luck. We’ve been trying to catch a guy that looks like him…who broke into 30 cars in the Galleria parking lot…last month. He waved at the security cameras.” The pal’s chuckle. Norm claps…. “I should take her to Vegas.”
THE END
-- "Sally and Norman" (c) 2009, Diana Weeks, All Rights Reserved
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