The Muse

Wendell felt groggy as he began to wash up. His head was pounding, and he felt very different. He knew where he was and what he was doing, but he wasn't sure how he had ended up on the floor of the living room. He remembered coming in from the fields quickly before a storm, but that was it.

As he finished washing up he could smell Cecilia's fried chicken in throughout the house. He loved her fried chicken. It must be a special occasion because she only made it on Sunday's and special occasions. It wasn't Sunday was it? How long had he been out cold on the floor? He could feel the anxiety rising up in his chest. This was an unfamiliar feeling to him. Why was he anxious? This was the house that he had lived in his whole life, and yet something was different. Something was very different.

"Wendell, lunch is ready," called Cecilia.

"I'm on my way." he called back down the hall.

What was he going to do? Would she notice that things were different? Was it something that could be noticed? Wendell's head began to spin again. When he first woke up his head was spinning, his whole body hurt, and he was disoriented. He recognized the living room, but it was somehow different.

Something caught his eye. He turned to catch a glimpse of what was there and it was gone. Strange.

As Wendell walked out of the bathroom he almost ran right into Cecilia in the hallway.

"Are you coming? It's getting cold?"

"Yeah right now."

Time in a bottle

If I could save time in a bottle…

That’s the song that was playing on the radio when my daddy left one night to get some milk for the morning. Ever since that day I decided that I would save every bottle until he came home. When I started I thought he would only be gone for a day or two, maybe a week, but now I have over four hundred bottles lined up in my room.

I make it a point to have a bottle of real coca-cola every day. I walk to the same store daddy was supposed to get milk from and put in my fifty cents and get a litle glass bottle of coke from the machine outside.

I made another decision that night, I would never drink another glass of milk until my daddy came home. Momma buys a gallon of milk each week. She gives me a glass every morning with my breakfast and one at night with supper, but I never touch it. Momma says I need milk to make my bones strong and that my teeth are gonna rot out, but I just tell her that only when daddy comes home will I drink a glass of milk again.

I am sure of most things. I don’t have lots of questions, but I have always wondered one thing. What does time look like when it is being saved in a bottle, and how do I know I am doing it right?

New one...

I can't seem to finish anything I start writing...
I am going to finish the Muse...this is what I have decided:
Monday I will post to The Muse
Thursday I will post to the new one

I hope this helps me stay focused on finishing and also keeps some variety in my life...I get so bored with stories I begin. I think this is why I can't finish the book I started SOOOOO long ago....Enjoy!

Anyone still reading...

Anyone still reading either one of my blogs?

This is the question that has been burning in my mind for quite some time. I would totally understand if I had lost all my readers. I am beginning a new short story that I plan on publishing the first post for today or tomorrow. I need to update everyone on our family blog too, things have been a whirlwind for the past three months. If you are still reading please come back later today or tomorrow and see what you think of my new story.

The Muse

After about an hour the boys finally showed up at Cecilia's door. There were three of them and they were big boys. Just right for moving Wendell. She was so grateful to them for their help that she offered to send them home with the cake that she had made that morning. They told her they were headed into town so they would stop by later and pick it up.

After the boys left Cecelia tried to make Wendell comfortable. She took off his shoes and tried to decide if she should undress him. She had never seen Wendell without his clothes. He always bathed while she was in her room sleeping or doing something in the kitchen. She found herself feeling very self-conscious.

She decided that he was not going to be out much longer so she did not need to undress him. He would wake up in time to play the piano for her while she read. She was going to miss his help with the laundry though.

Cecelia decided to get started on rewashing the sheets that she had washed earlier that morning. The dust had settled and the sun was blazing so hopefully they would dry quickly.

As she worked she tried to occupy her mind with the mundane chores of the day. After she finished the laundry she really needed to make lunch for her and Wendell. Oh Wendell, surely he would be up by lunch time right?

She hung the clothes on the line for the second time that day and decided to go and check on Wendell. She had decided to make his favorite lunch instead of sandwiches. She felt so bad about him falling. It was her fault after all. She should have picked up those pieces of glass. She looked down at her hand as she thought of picking up the glass. Picking up small things was just so hard with only four fingers. She tried not to dwell on her problems. No reason to dwell, right?

She opened the front door and started to walk back to Wendell's room and heard his heavy footfall. Thank goodness, he was alive, and awake.

"Wendell, where are you?" Cecilia called.

"Cece, I am in the back of the house. I will be up there in a minute."

Cecilia walked into the kitchen and began cutting up the chicken she had been saving for the dinner on Sunday. She decided to fry it up for lunch. Wendell loved fried chicken. She also found a few potatoes and decided to make a potato salad instead of mashed because Wendell loved her potato salad so much. She had some beans left over from the night before and put those on the stove to heat them up as well. Wendell would be so pleased.

The Muse

The storm began to pick up and Cecilia watched the funnel cloud swirl around the yard. Luckily, it did not come close to the house. As she continued to watch she saw that it was headed for the neighbors to the south. They had been hit more than three times. Hopefully, this one wouldn't do too much damage.

As the storm began to settle she began to worry about Wendell. He still had not stirred since she had pulled him across the threshold. Cecilia allowed herself to begin to dwell in the what ifs that she could feel at the back of her consciousness. They had just been a wisp of a thought five minutes ago when she was caught up in watching the storm, but now they were getting bigger and moving with more force through her mind.

What if Wendell didn't wake up? What would she do? She could not work this land by herself. She was lost without Wendell in more ways than one. She had never spent a day apart from him. He had always been there. Cecilia never knew where he had come from. He was not her brother, but he had always lived with her and she had never asked her mother about where he came from. Cecelia wasn't even sure that Wendell knew. She made a mental note to ask him when he woke up. She also made a note to tell him how much she appreciated him and loved him when he woke up, if he woke up.

Just then, her swirling thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. She moved as quickly as she could into the kitchen where the phone was.

"Hello," Cecelia answered. It was her neighbor to the South, Ann.

"Cece..I am just calling to make sure you and Wendell are okay. We watched the tornado swirl around the property. Luckily, it missed your house and ours." Ann said.

"Well, as far as damage I think we are okay. But, Wendell fell on the porch right before the storm and still has not woken up. I barely got him moved in before the storm started. Can you send the boys over here to help get him to the bed."

"I will send the right over, but Cece you need to call the doc to come out." Ann implored.

"I am going to wait. I think he will just wake up and when he does he will be embarrassed. I don't want him to be embarrassed in front of doc."

"Okay, the boys will be there soon." Ann hung up.

Cecelia poured herself a glass of tea and sat down in the living room to wait for the boys. Hopefully, they would be able to get Wendell into his bedroom and in bed. That should help.

The Muse

Wendell bounded up the stairs carrying the basket of clothes. It was so full with the sheets that he wasn't looking down. His boot heel hit the shards of glass that had fallen from the table when Cecilia had stood up to get the wash off the line in the yard. The big man went down with a loud crash. Cecilia did not see him slip, but heard him hit the porch. 

At first it was quite comical. She had to suppress her laughter. Wendell was so clumsy for someone who could play the piano with such a fluid grace that she had never witnessed. But, then as she started to walk toward him she noticed that he wasn't getting up. The wind was picking up behind her and she knew they had to get inside or they would be caught in the storm. 

"Wendell, get up! We have to get in the house. I know you hurt your pride, but we have to move fast."

Cecilia continued walking toward the porch and when she finally reached the steps she noticed that Wendell was very still. Too still. She felt a panic rising up through her entire body that just seemed to burst open when it reached her chest.

She put down the basket she had been carrying in from the yard. Time seemed to stop. Everything began to swirl around her. The dust had finally made it in from the prairie. As she bent down to look at Wendell, so many thoughts began to hit her all at once. What was she going to do? How was she going to get Wendell inside? What would she do without Wendell?

Cecilia reached out to touch his throat just to check and see if he had a pulse. A wave of relief swept over her like a hot shower. She could feel the strong pulse that she had felt so many times when he bent down to kiss her on the forehead. He was alive, but why wasn't he moving?

She realized that Wendell had probably hit his head on the corner of the steps. She gingerly lifted his head to see if he had hurt himself, and then she saw it. The glass that had fallen when she had stood up earlier. Why hadn't she stopped to pick that up? This was all her fault, but there was not time to dwell in that self-pity. There would plenty of time later to think about all the things she should have done. 

She didn't see any blood and she decided that was a good sign. The dust was starting to cover everything around her including her face. Pretty soon she was not going to be able to see. She needed to get Wendell inside.

She walked around to his feet and began to pull. He was big and Cecilia was not. Wendell had grown to be about six foot five inches tall. This was almost two whole feet taller than Cecilia and he out weighed her about 100 hundred pounds. After what seemed like hours, Cecilia finally got him across the threshold of the house. She still needed to get him the rest of the way in so she could shut the door to the dust outside. She continued pulling him into the house and finally got him in far enough to shut the door. She ran outside to get the wash, and the tea pitcher she had been using. Luckily, it had not fallen and broken as well. That would have been a mess she did not want to clean up.

Just as she walked into the house with the last basket and shut the door to the storm she walked over to the window and noticed the funnel cloud off in the distance.