The Gift - Writers Forum

Brian Williams · 07-15-2007, 06:26 PM

I sat slumped in the passenger seat of our battered green Dodge Caravan watching the windshield wipers working feverishly to keep to up with the heavy downpour.

“Do I have to go?” I whined to Mom.

“Really Cassie, I can’t believe how selfish you are being. You know your Grandma can’t get out like she used to.”

Well, its my ninth birthday, doesn’t that make it my day, I thought, but dared not say. I hated going to Grandma’s since her illness. One side of her face sagged down more than the other, which made her drool. Just like my friend’s Tara’s baby brother, only he was eight months old.

“Hi Grandma,” I said from the doorway of her bedroom. I was wary of getting any closer in case I caught her disease, but Mom impatiently waved me to her bedside.

On Grandma’s lap lay a large flat package wrapped in paper with brightly coloured snowmen on it. Yessh Grandma, Christmas was three months ago. I said nothing, but gingerly picked up the package off her lap.

Sitting on the floor, I ripped at the snowmen, but quickly stopped when I saw what lay beneath. “Oh, a book.”

Mom shot me a warning glance. “Gee, thanks Grandma,” I chirped.

Grandma mumbled something and Mom leaned in closer to hear her better. “It’s not just a book, it’s an Atlas of the World” Mom translated. “It shows all the places in the world that exist outside of Fraser Falls, places Grandma has dreamed of seeing.”

I got up off the floor. “I really like the book Grandma,” I fibbed. “Can I go look at it in the living room?”

“Sure,” Mom replied as she began brushing the knots out of Grandma’s hair.

I bolted from the room and plopped myself two feet in front of the TV. I pushed the power button and turned the volume low, so Mom couldn’t hear it. The Atlas lay forgotten on the coffee table.

A half hour later, just as my favourite episode of Scooby-Doo was about to end, Mom appeared already wearing her coat. I was about to protest, when I saw her pinched face.

“Well don’t sit there dilly dallying, grab your coat. I got a million things to do when I get home,” she said as she angrily swiped at her eyes. I quickly shut off the TV, grabbed my Atlas, and followed her out to the car.

Later that night after dinner, I was in my room working on my fractions when it started.

“But Neil, you didn’t see her today. She isn’t getting any better,” Mom pleaded. “I don’t think those home-care nurses are giving her the attention she needs.”

“Dammit, Denise, we have had this discussion a thousand times before and my answer is still the same,” he roared back. We cannot have your mom live with us. It’s not . . . practical” he finished lamely.

“She’s my mother. Should I just leave her to rot alone just because you find her an inconvenience? You sure didn’t think so when she loaned us that money last year.”

“Do you always have to throw that back in my face? I seem to recall you had no problem taking her money either.”

They had been fighting a lot since Grandma’s stroke. Secretly I was on Dad’s side. Stick to your guns, I silently rooted.

Forgetting about my homework, on hands and knees I crawled into my closet and slid the door shut.

“Well Woofie,” I said to my faithful beagle companion, “this is a good place to wait out the storm. The leaves from these banana trees will keep us dry from the rain.” I lifted my hand and flapped it along the bottom of my clothes that hung overhead.

I felt for the flashlight I kept on the floor and shone it on Woofie’s stuffed face. “What’s that Woofie? What do we do now? Well, I guess we wait for this storm to pass.”

I picked him up and cradled him in my arms, “There, there Woofie there’s no need to be afraid. We are safe and dry in here.”

“Hey, I bet you’re hungry. Why don’t I just reach up and pick us some bananas off this tree.”

Some time later, my closet door slid abruptly open. I blinked my eyes against the harsh light shining in from my bedroom. I could just make out Mom’s legs wrapped in her worn blue robe.

“Time for bed, it’s a school night.” she said in a tired voice. I slowly crawled out from the closet. The house was now silent.

Two days later, Grandma moved in with us.

Mom cut back her hours at the supermarket and was spending most of her spare time tending to Grandma. Slowly over time, Grandma’s condition did improve and she came to resemble the person she was before her stroke.

One lazy Sunday, I was lying on my bed reading the latest Betty and Veronica comic when Grandma pushed open the door. I made a mental note to ask Dad for a lock.

“What are you up to today?” she enquired.

“Nothing, just hanging out”

“Where is that Atlas I gave you for your birthday?” At first I forgot what she was talking about, as I hadn’t touched it since the day I brought it home many months ago.

Grandma shuffled over to the bookcase above my desk and pulled it out from between Alice in Wonderland and Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham. Baby books I hadn’t looked at in years.

“Hmmm, here it is.” she said as she carried it to my bed and sat down beside me.

“When I was a young woman, I had dreams of all the places in the world I wanted to visit. Places I had only read about, like the pyramids of Egypt, castles and cathedrals of Europe, the Great Wall, oh the possibilities were endless,” she said longingly as she ran her hands along the book.

I hope this isn’t going to turn into a geography lesson, I thought selfishly to myself. I wanted to get back to reading my comic.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining,” she continued. “I haven’t seen much outside of Canada, but I’ve led a full life, what with helping Granddad run his business and raising three kids. Still, it would have been nice to see other parts of the world.” She opened the Atlas and started randomly flipping through the pages stopping every once in a while to study a page.

Sitting with Grandma that afternoon, I came to not only see a different side of her, but she opened my eyes to the exciting world that existed outside of my imagination.

----

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking. We will be touching down in Tokyo in approximately 30 minutes. Local time is 3:40 pm and the temperature is a balmy 20 degrees.” I said into the intercom. “On behalf of the cabin crew, we thank you for choosing Global Air and we hope you enjoy your stay in Tokyo of wherever your travels may take you.”

Fossy · 07-15-2007, 07:39 PM

This was a really good story, however, I feel the ending was too quick and authorish. The child seemed to come to the conclusion too quickly. Of course you don't want to go on and on, but after a big build up, it seemed to all come crashing down.

Good writing though IMO.

Brian Williams · 07-15-2007, 09:26 PM

I know, I ran out of steam on the last two paragraphs.

I started this story with a completely different idea, but it kind of developed a life of its own. Then I had no idea how to end it, so I just finished it as is.

Carson · 07-17-2007, 07:21 PM

I agree, that was great up until the ending.

As the author, you can always come back when you get your steam back and re-do the ending.

Tell you the truth, this story sounds like it could be turned into something very long and exciting...

Brian Williams · 07-17-2007, 09:46 PM

Thanks for the feedback so far.

I guess we are all in agreement that the ending sucks. I will think about it some more and see what I can come up with. Anybody have any suggestions? I am new to the writing game and this is only the second story I have tried to write.

BWE · 07-17-2007, 10:06 PM

Yep. You walked me up to the windows of the seedy downtown jewelry store on the corner of fourth and main, showed me your grandpa's pristine watch that your aunt hocked during the depression to buy a little lard and flour, pulled out your money to help me anticipate its return to the family it came from, walked us up to the door and Godzilla stepped on the shop.

I'd like to know what an old lady with a stroke has left that she would guard with her last dying breath to pass down to her grandchild who couldn't possibly understand its significance. Is there a family name engraved on the inside back cover with a microscopic page number? Is there a family secret that will give the child a unique and wonderful understanding of the world? What? Godzilla?

Only one issue for me and it's purely taste. First sentences make a story for me so that's what I always comment on first:

Quote:

I sat slumped in the passenger seat of our battered green Dodge Caravan watching the windshield wipers working feverishly to keep to up with the heavy downpour.

A) don't think feverishly is the right word.
B) Why rain? It needs some special significance for me. Or maybe why the battered green wagon?

But, after saying that, The dialog pulled me right in. I was fully engaged. I would have read the novel.

Carson · 07-18-2007, 06:30 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Brian Williams

Thanks for the feedback so far.

I guess we are all in agreement that the ending sucks. I will think about it some more and see what I can come up with. Anybody have any suggestions? I am new to the writing game and this is only the second story I have tried to write.

Very impressive for a second attempt!

What I would suggest you do is to leave this piece alone for a few days, then come back and read the whole thing. Whatever seems to fit on the end that you think of can go. Let's see if I can describe what I mean... It's like when you're watching a movie for the first time and, being half-way through, you start imagining where the story might go based on what's happened.

For example, when I was half-way through your story, I had the idea that maybe grandma would die and the main character would be inspired to travel the world.

So, whatever comes to you as a reader, not as the author, could be a much better ending--or perhaps a spring board into a larger story.

Edit: I hope that makes sense XD

Azmakna · 07-18-2007, 06:36 PM

Quote:

I sat slumped in the passenger seat of our battered green Dodge Caravan watching the windshield wipers working feverishly to keep to up with the heavy downpour.

just a quick giz. 'feverishly' is the wrong word here. this is a child's voice?
“Do I have to go?” I whined to Mom.

“Really Cassie, I can’t believe how selfish you are being. You know your Grandma can’t get out like she used to.”

Well, its my ninth birthday, doesn’t that make it my day, I thought, but dared not say. I hated going to Grandma’s since her illness. One side of her face sagged down more than the other, which made her drool. Just like my friend’s Tara’s baby brother, only he was eight months old.

no way would a child think like that.

sorry i haven't got the time at the minute, but if i get time tomorrow i'll take a closer look. would really think about the language a child would use.

Voodoo · 07-18-2007, 06:42 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Brian Williams

I sat slumped in the passenger seat of our battered green Dodge Caravan watching the windshield wipers working feverishly to keep to up with the heavy downpour. "to keep to up" there's an error here.

“Do I have to go?” I whined to Mom.

“Really Cassie, I can’t believe how selfish you are being. You know your Grandma can’t get out like she used to.”

Well, its my ninth birthday, doesn’t that make it my day, I thought, but dared not say. I hated going to Grandma’s since her illness. One side of her face sagged down more than the other, which made her drool. Just like my friend’s Tara’s baby brother, only he was eight months old. friend's tara's should be - friend Tara's

“Hi Grandma,” I said from the doorway of her bedroom. I was wary "is it weary?" of getting any closer in case I caught her disease, but Mom impatiently waved me to her bedside.

On Grandma’s lap lay a large flat package wrapped in paper with brightly coloured snowmen on it. on it could be done better. Yessh Grandma, Christmas was three months ago. I said nothing, but gingerly picked up the package off her lap. up and off- unnecessary words

Sitting on the floor, I ripped at the snowmen, but quickly stopped when I saw what lay beneath. “Oh, a book.”

Mom shot me a warning glance. “Gee, thanks Grandma,” I chirped.

Grandma mumbled something and Mom leaned in closer to hear her better. “It’s not just a book, it’s an Atlas of the World” Mom translated. “It shows all the places in the world that exist outside of Fraser Falls, places Grandma has dreamed of seeing.” a good feel, here.

I got up off the floor. <- you know... “I really like the book Grandma,” I fibbed. “Can I go look at it in the living room?”

“Sure,” Mom replied as she began brushing the knots out of Grandma’s hair.

I bolted from the room and plopped myself two feet in front of the TV. I pushed the power button and turned the volume low, so Mom couldn’t hear it. The Atlas lay forgotten on the coffee table.

A half hour later, just as my favourite episode of Scooby-Doo was about to end, Mom appeared already wearing her coat. I was about to protest, when I saw her pinched face. off topic- does scooby doo appear in europe?

“Well don’t sit there dilly dallying, grab your coat. I got a million things to do when I get home,” she said as she angrily swiped at her eyes. I quickly shut off the TV, grabbed my Atlas, and followed her out to the car.

Later that night after dinner, I was in my room working on my fractions when it started.

“But Neil, you didn’t see her today. She isn’t getting any better,” Mom pleaded. “I don’t think those home-care nurses are giving her the attention she needs.”

“Dammit, Denise, we have had this discussion a thousand times before and my answer is still the same,” he roared back. We cannot have your mom live with us. It’s not . . . practical” he finished lamely.

“She’s my mother. Should I just leave her to rot alone just because you find her an inconvenience? You sure didn’t think so when she loaned us that money last year.”

“Do you always have to throw that back in my face? I seem to recall you had no problem taking her money either.”

They had been fighting a lot since Grandma’s stroke. Secretly I was on Dad’s side. Stick to your guns, I silently rooted.

Forgetting about my homework, on hands and knees I crawled into my closet and slid the door shut.

“Well Woofie,” I said to my faithful beagle companion, “this is a good place to wait out the storm. The leaves from these banana trees will keep us dry from the rain.” I lifted my hand and flapped it along the bottom of my clothes that hung overhead.

I felt for the flashlight I kept on the floor and shone it on Woofie’s stuffed face. “What’s that Woofie? What do we do now? Well, I guess we wait for this storm to pass.”

I picked him up and cradled him in my arms, “There, there Woofie there’s no need to be afraid. We are safe and dry in here.”

“Hey, I bet you’re hungry. Why don’t I just reach up and pick us some bananas off this tree.”

Some time later, my closet door slid abruptly open. I blinked my eyes against the harsh light shining in from my bedroom. I could just make out Mom’s legs wrapped in her worn blue robe.

“Time for bed, it’s a school night.” she said in a tired voice. I slowly crawled out from the closet. The house was now silent.

Two days later, Grandma moved in with us. awesome.

Mom cut back her hours at the supermarket and was spending most of her spare time tending to Grandma. Slowly over time, Grandma’s condition did improve and she came to resemble the person she was before her stroke.

One lazy Sunday, I was lying on my bed reading the latest Betty and Veronica comic when Grandma pushed open the door. I made a mental note to ask Dad for a lock.

“What are you up to today?” she enquired. I've seen this before- I think it should be an "inquire" but it may be regional.

“Nothing, just hanging out period”

“Where is that Atlas I gave you for your birthday?” At first I forgot what she was talking about, as I hadn’t touched it since the day I brought it home many months ago.

Grandma shuffled over to the bookcase above my desk and pulled it out from between Alice in Wonderland and Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham. Baby books I hadn’t looked at in years.

“Hmmm, here it is.” she said as she carried it to my bed and sat down beside me.

“When I was a young woman, I had dreams of all the places in the world I wanted to visit. Places I had only read about, like the pyramids of Egypt, castles and cathedrals of Europe, the Great Wall, oh the possibilities were endless,” she said longingly as she ran her hands along the book.

I hope this isn’t going to turn into a geography lesson, I thought selfishly it contradicts the narrator to the character, who should be the same. to myself. I wanted to get back to reading my comic.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining,” she continued. “I haven’t seen much outside of Canada, but I’ve led a full life, what with helping Granddad run his business and raising three kids. Still, it would have been nice to see other parts of the world.” She opened the Atlas and started randomly flipping through the pages stopping every once in a while to study a page.

Sitting with Grandma that afternoon, I came to not only see a different side of her, but she opened my eyes to the exciting world that existed outside of my imagination.

----

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking. We will be touching down in Tokyo in approximately 30 minutes. Local time is 3:40 pm and the temperature is a balmy 20 degrees.” I said into the intercom. “On behalf of the cabin crew, we thank you for choosing Global Air and we hope you enjoy your stay in Tokyo of wherever your travels may take you.”

Lovely story.
Piss ending.
Smile.

ps.

are you a woman?
or a mannish?

Brian Williams · 07-18-2007, 09:20 PM

German Voodoo, I am 100% woman. Brian Williams is the name of my English Bulldog. He is named after a TV sports announcer here in Canada. Not sure why its my pen name?

Voodoo · 07-18-2007, 09:24 PM

Ah, my username is named after a freak bastard child that would've been born if I'd mated with this girl that'd constantly followed me around, asking for money and calling me her baby daddy when i don't like vagina and I certainly don't hate myself enough to touch hers.

My, what a long sentence.

Colwyn Quaffer · 07-20-2007, 06:21 AM

Well I'm not really qualified to do a critic but I thought the story flowed nicely until, (obviously) the end.

Perhaps you could have had that grandma opens the Atlas and a fifty dollar note flutters out, or something to communicate a moral about not taking things for granted anymore or... I don't know. I'm rambling here so I'll stop right now.

I liked it though, it had a warm, familiar feeling to it. Was I a spoilt little git who took his grandma for granted too? The answer is, unfortunately, yes.