Fringe

What, December already? Well, you know what that means. No, not some overfed hursuit man flamboyantly dressed in red velvet slithering down your chimney. Forget about my youngest's sixth birthday. It's the Creative Writing Challenge Game!! I really wanted to participate this month, but I must admit that it is a last minute thing.

This month's theme is a race against time. The words are: India, fog, sausage, donkey, and printer. I wanted to continue the story of Sarah and Parker from the August challenge, so I have first included that entry. An entry which was actually never posted due to computer difficulties. I greatly appreciate helpful, constructive criticism. Enjoy!

* * *
"I am not really sure what to do with you." She turned away from the blackboard, walking through a white cloud as she clapped her hands against her favorite khaki pants. Resuming her seat behind the desk, she stared across at the slumped-shoulders and sad eyes hidden under shaggy russet fringe. She could feel her resolve start to falter.

"The writing assignment was to use ironic humor to expose innate absurdities associated with a current news event or high profile person. A three paragraph draft of song lyrics recounting your misadventures does not even come close. You promised me you were going to take your writing seriously."

He lifted his head slightly, tossing the bangs upward at a left angle, exposing one turquoise-blue eye. "Oh, I am taking my writing seriously. And you didn't get 'satire' out of that? I thought that bit about the 'pottage of human spoils' was particularly inspired."

Sarah sighed. It was best to tread lightly here. That child survived the incomprehensible, and she knew better than anyone else what it felt like. She fought the impulse to hug away the boy's demons. It was too complicated in her current position to offer much beyond verbal condolences and encouragement.

"Perhaps you'll be a renowned lyricist, and there is no question you have a way with words. You are one of the brightest students I have seen in my ten years of teaching, and I expect great things out of you one day, Parker. But today, I would be satisfied with the simple act of following instructions. You have the ability in that noggin of yours, you just need the determination."

"Because my other option was to write about Robert Smythe. Now there's a high profile person in the news. I could definitely point out some innate absurdities about his existence. With determination."

Sarah caught her breath at the cavalier mention of That Name and unconsciously touched the scar on her forehead. Parker again slumped, determined to pick the fraying threads in the knees of his jeans. Sarah shifted her gaze to the window, watching the crazy November squirrels greedily snatching their last treasures in anticipation of the first snow. She could not help reliving what had happened fifteen years before. And so she could not see the slight glint in those blue eyes hidden beneath the fringe.

* * *

Sarah looked at the clock, wiping the late-August sweat from her brow. Just three more hours until her flight to India. Who would have thought a shy little mousy girl from such a podunk town would be awarded a spot in a prestigious foreign exchange program. It was so scary and exciting all at the same time. How would she get along with her host family? How would she be treated? What if she hated the food? The closest thing to Indian food she had ever consumed was from the frozen food section at the Harris Teeter.

"Dad! Why don't you get air conditioning put in? It is 1996 for, Christ's sake!" She wiped more sweat from her face, wondering if it was truly from the heat or just nerves. She woke up with the feeling that she was not going to get her family to the airport in time.

A skinny, russet-haired boy popped his head in her room, uninvited, as usual.

"Hey, Sparrow, come eat your last meal, I mean breakfast. In honor of your trip I got Ma to make donkey sausage and monkey bacon. I sure hope they weren't related to your host family."

Sarah playfully punched her brother. She was going to miss him the most.

"You dork! The cow is sacred in India, not the donkey! Hey, hand me that itinerary from the printer, will you? I really want to get to the airport soon, and maybe showing that to Dad will speed up his snail-paced morning routine."

"Here's your precious itinerary, don't you have it memorized, Little Miss Brightest Bulb in the Pack? And now, to show your undying love for your only baby brother, you gotta give me your No Doubt cd."

"Deal. Now out with you."

Sarah chastised herself in the shower for whistling. She could remember not to wink or touch people with her shoes in India, but not whistling was going to be a hard task. She couldn't help being happy all the time. Wiping the steamy-fog from the bathroom mirror, her attempt at lightening-fast grooming was interrupted by a commotion downstairs.

"Hey! Whatever is going on down there better not make me late for the airport! Only two more hours until my flight. Move it, people!"

Despite the heat, Sarah pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt and long pants so that no potentially insulting skin would be exposed. The banging from downstairs continued, angering her further.

"What is going on? Jacob? Dad? Hey, Ma, what's happening down there?"

The slow, uneven stomping on the stairs startled her. Sarah hid behind the bathroom door. Two could play at that game! If Jacob was attempting to scare her, she'd get him first. The heavy steps stopped outside the door. Was he wearing Dad's work boots filled with rocks?

Sarah jerked the door open to yell at her brother, only to see the school janitor taking up the entire doorframe.

Robert Smythe.

Covered in blood.

And the entire world went black.

* * *

Sarah turned back to the skinny boy before her, still picking at his jeans.

"No. You cannot write about Smythe. But give me something by Friday, and I won't call your uncle in for a conference."

Parker considered the offer, tossed his russet bangs up to the left, and stared at her with a turquoise eye.

"Ok. I won't write about him now. But I can't promise I won't later. Deal?"

"Deal. Now out with you."