Each week, I’ll give a “telling” prompt, and invite you to show us, to make us a witness, not a mere bystander. Feel free to use the prompt, or the photo (if a photo is shown.) Of course, if you have a completely different “telling” prompt, you can “show” us that, too.
As always, I invite you to leave a link to your website or blog with your comments.
THIS WEEK’S PROMPT:
He dreaded the news.
The following is an excerpt from Broken Dolls. The scene takes place in December, 1941. Terrence is unable to get into the Christmas spirit, because he misses his daddy, who is stationed at Pearl Harbor.
Missy and Patty serenaded all the way home. Jingle bells, jingle bells. Over and over. Way too many times.
Terrence shook his head. “Come on, you two. Don’t you know any other songs?”
Wouldn’t matter none. He just wasn’t in the mood, even with a tree tied to the top of the car. Even with Christmas carols and colored lights showing through windows everywhere. It’d be a fine scene – if only Daddy was home.
Momma turned into the driveway. “Wonder why Brother Harold’s sitting on our porch swing? And who’s that man . . . in the uniform?” Her voice faded to a whisper.
Patty and Missy stopped singing.
The whole world came to a stop. The talking. The movement. The breathing. Something buzzed in his ear and clutched Terrence’s heart tight. Wouldn’t let go. Might never let go.
Momma’s hands clutched the steering wheel. She whispered real slow. “You kids . . . go on in the house now. I be there in a minute.”
Terrence lifted Missy out of the car and took Patty’s hand. No matter how bad he didn’t want to know, he knew.
Let’s just back up, Momma. Get back in the car. Get back to the Christmas tree lot. I promise I won’t complain about looking for the perfect tree. Won’t never complain about having to get up early. Just please. No way. No way do we want none of what Brother Harold has to tell us.
Terrence nodded as he shuffled past Brother Harold. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—look him in the eye.
Brother Harold touched him on the shoulder with his large, warm hand. It sent shivers all over, tensed every part of his body.
Once inside the house, Terrence put Missy down and shut the front door. “You two go on and play now,” he said.
Missy ran off to her room, but Patty stared at her brother, her eyes looking more scared than he’d ever seen them. “I don’t want to play. Why’s Brother Harold here? Is it Dad—”
Don’t you say it!
“I said, go on now Patty. I wanna talk to Momma when she comes in.”
He pressed his ear to the door, wanting to hear, yet so desperately not wanting to hear. His heart begged for a way—any way—to stop time, to go back in time.