The following is a piece I’ll be entering in an NPR short story contest:
My mom has a magnetic force around her. Rootless things fly through the air toward her and land at her feet. Five husbands did, one right after the other. She was fifteen years old when Number One appeared. There’s only one photo of her from back then. She’s got one foot up on the running board of an old pick up truck. She’s got a hand up like she’s trying to shield her eyes. She looks like she’s seeing something off in the distance, something that’s better than anything within reach.
The day she met Arnie, Number One, was one of those days when you swear you can reach out and grab a handful of air, all hot and thick and going nowhere. Arnie’s car broke down on the road that ran alongside the trailer park, just as Ma and her mom were coming back from the store, each carrying a bag of groceries. Arnie stood frowning into his engine, looked up as the women passed and asked the distance to the nearest gas station or garage. According to Ma, he got as far as “Hey ladies, can you tell me how far it is…” and Ma, full of too much humidity and boredom, shot back, “Too far for those fancy shoes to carry you.”
Ma watched him pull his head back and start laughing. The car got fixed, and the next thing my grandma knew was that her daughter seemed to be always getting into that car or getting out of it. Finally, my grandma signed the papers and Ma and Arnie were married. In four months, Arnie was in the Merchant Marines, halfway around the world. Ma carried all his letters in her bathrobe. She cried that she couldn’t hold onto the calls like she could the letters. After about a year, her bathrobe pockets went back to just lint and tissues and in no time at all, the divorce was finalized.
Number Two was Claude, who became the father of Ma’s first child. The others followed so fast it was like they were all lined up inside her, waiting. I belong to Number Three, although by the time I was born, Number Three was long gone. Numbers Four and Five added a few more towns and houses of their own. After awhile, I lost count of all the places we lived.
Ma left Number Five when my grandma died, came back to Cockeysville, sold the trailer and bought a pickup truck. By then, I was the last one at home. We started out for Michigan, got as far as South Bend, Indiana and stayed long enough for me to get a job at the phone company. Ma met Mel, and for the first time ever, she said she’d live with a man but not get married.
It’s a lot of years later and I’ve never left South Bend. Don’t ask me if I like living here; it’s not a question I’ve ever asked myself. It’s just where I am. I’ve been married for 15 years to the same man , and we’ve always lived in the same house. I don’t want to ever think about moving. I told my husband I chose him because he was born in South Bend. And because he’s a locksmith. His job is to make locks for houses where people want to stay put. Or he helps people who have been locked out of their house so they can get back in. I have about 20 extra keys to my house. I always want to be able to get back in.
Joyce
January 18, 2011
I’m so glad you’re going for it! And this is quite a three-minute yarn! Good luck.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Years ago, I had written a much, much longer version of this as the beginning of a novel. Of course, it went nowhere. When I looked at it, there was someone telling a joke (stretch here, really a sarcastic line) and someone crying. So I hacked away to get it down to 600 words. So it’s now an entire novel in 600 words.
carldagostino
January 18, 2011
Mom’s quite a looker! I would like to enter the contest to be husband #6. I am 61. I live in Miami. The house is paid off and the roof leaks only on the left side. My 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass is like new. I have $73 stashed in the credit union. In addition I have 19 silver dollars and silver is about to skyrocket. I have an excellent memory except for the car keys, my wallet and my birthday. I don’t know how to dance worth a hoot but enjoy watching others. Well, think I got a shot?
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Carl, I think you’d be a catch for anyone!
duke1959
January 18, 2011
This is really well written. I must say you are aging great!
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Duke! The photo is an old one of Loretta Young. Can you believe it?
Emily Jane
January 18, 2011
Gorgeous photo, and I must say, this was absolutely fabulously written – best of luck 🙂
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Emily Jane. The photo is actually a young Loretta Young!
Debbie
January 18, 2011
Awesome, Renee! What an interesting memory and how well you told it! I didn’t realize you were in South Bend — my son is at Notre Dame, so I’m up in your neck of the woods rather often. Y’all have certainly had a bunch of snow, haven’t you? Good luck with the contest! Fascinating how we look over our parents’ choices, approve or disapprove, then set out to forge our own way in life.
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
The story is total fiction. My mom was a wonderful woman, but not nearly as colorful! I picked South Bend because I went to grad school at IU in Bloomington, and I had good friends from South Bend. I was there several times for weddings.
Debbie
January 18, 2011
Purely fictional, huh? That makes it even better! You have a real gift for making the made-up feel like reality — I’m hoping you’ll win!
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Debbie, although I’m sure they will get a zillion entries!
Kathryn McCullough
January 18, 2011
Fabulous that you’re entering the contest! And good work getting this piece lean and mean–not easy, I know! Good luck and let us know how it all turns out. I’m rooting for you!
Hugs from Haiti,
Kathy
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Kathy. Yes, it was actually an ordeal paring down. I tend to get overly attached to how I write things, which is not good. The slash and burn was a good exercise.
mira
January 18, 2011
Great story, Renee. I can hear you telling it and I can hear it being read on NPR. Keep us posted!
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Wow, thanks Mira! You are still in my thoughts all the time. I missed you over the holidays. I’ll shoot you an email.
Elly Lou
January 18, 2011
*swoon* Very well done! Can’t wait to say I stalked you back when…
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Ah, EL, coming from you, I am overwhelmed. Seriously.
Tori Nelson
January 18, 2011
“She looks like she’s seeing something off in the distance, something that’s better than anything within reach.”…. Brilliant!
Isn’t it amazing that a short piece can say SO much?
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks so much Tori. The original piece was about three times as long. I struggled to pare it down, but I think it was a great exercise to do so.
V.V. Denman
January 18, 2011
Love the ending with the locks.
And I love how so many of us thought this was your actual family. You’ve made it real.
Good luck with it!
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks! I was wondering if I should have written “fiction,” but I guess I’ll leave it the way it is.
Marion Driessen
January 18, 2011
Renée, what an enchanting story, I loved reading it!
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Marion!
writerwoman61
January 18, 2011
I have great difficulty with fiction, Renée…you seem to have nailed it…
Good luck with the NPR contest!
Wendy
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Wendy. I started writing fiction in my early teens. It seemed a natural way to control my world, to have people do and say things I wished I could. It became really important to me when my marriage was spiraling down. I wrote a dreadful novel that “resolved” everything. Have you tried fiction loosely based on real events and/or real people?
writerwoman61
January 18, 2011
Yes, actually, I have…I have 2/3 of a thriller in “the vault” that I started thirteen years ago…it’s probably awful!
I have trouble writing description because of my broadcast journalism training…in radio, you leave that “extra stuff” out!
Wendy
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
You should take a look at the manuscript. I’m thinking there is probably some good stuff there. And I’ve read some great writers who are very spare with language, and yet are able to convey a world in just a few sentences. BTW, I’m always in awe of people who write thrillers. I think how can people write about something that is so far removed from “normal” life?
sunshineinlondon
January 18, 2011
This is brilliant, Renee – you write so well. Good luck with the contestment, I mean contest, I’m sure you’ll do well. What a gift you have.
Sunshine xx
lifeintheboomerlane
January 18, 2011
Thanks, Sunshine. Ah, that was funny. I think there will be a zillion entries in the contestment, and I really don’t think I have a chance. But it was a great exercise to pull that old beginning of a novel out of mothballs and seriously pare it down to 600 words.
Amiable Amiable
January 19, 2011
You had me fooled, too, Renee. I also thought it was your real family. Very poignant. The competition doesn’t stand a chance!
Would you be willing to share any of the writers that you referenced as using words sparingly, and the titles?
lifeintheboomerlane
January 19, 2011
Thanks so much. Hemingway (anything), Annie Proulx (The Shipping News), Cormac McCarthy (The Road), AM Homes (The Mistresses’ Daughter)
Allison
January 19, 2011
Love it! I had to read the comments to verify the fiction of it. The locksmith detail is one of my favorite parts (well, that, and that fictional you chose to settle in Indiana).
lifeintheboomerlane
January 19, 2011
It’s funny: Because I know my own real-life story (of course) and because my story is so dramatically different that this one, it simply never occured to me that people would think it was about me. Many stories I’ve written are based in real life events, but others seem to pop up out of nowhere. I guess all writers have that experience.
Susanna Hartigan
March 19, 2011
I just read your story on NPR and really liked it! I would love to read the longer version eventually.
I also love the photo you posted here. Is that a Laurie Coppedge?
lifeintheboomerlane
March 19, 2011
Hi Susanna! I had no idea NPR chose my story until I just read your comment. I’m in London right now, visiting my daughter and grandson. The photo that accompanies the story is one of Loretta Young that I found online. Thanks for reading, and thanks for commenting!