Dance with My Father Again (Jim)

Jim crept down the dark hall and knelt at his parents’ bedroom door. His mom was crying for his dad again. She didn’t think that he knew she cried. By morning, her tears were gone and there was little redness in her eyes to betray her. But Jim knew. He knew she cried; he just didn’t know how to help her. At ten years old, he was as tall as his mother was and stronger than she was, but he still couldn’t take his father’s place. She loved him dearly, but her heart truly belonged to his dad.

With tears streaming down his own face, Jim stumbled back to his room. Once there, he carefully closed his door. By the faint light of the moon, he made his way to his bed and knelt down. One of his earliest memories was of his mother teaching him to pray.

"Dear God,
Please make my mom happy again. Send back my dad or something. We need him so much more than you do. We need him! Amen."

He choked out the last word among his tears, and trying to hold back louder sobs, climbed into bed.

This was the worst part of the day or night. When he was at school or doing chores, he managed to keep his mind occupied with other things. Once in bed, he usually fought the memories. Tonight, he was too tired to fight and lay there and silently cried as he remembered.

"No."
"But, Mom," he wheedled, "Everyone has a Rubik's cube. I only need another dollar to buy one."

"James Winthrop Frayne the Second, did you not understand the word ‘No’ the first time?" Katje Frayne turned from the soup she was stirring on the store. "I said, no and no it remains."

Jim stomped out of the kitchen and into the family room where his dad was building a fire in the fireplace.

"Dad, can I have a dollar?"

"Why?"

"For this really educational thing," Jim stressed educational, thinking that would cinch the deal.

"Is this what you and your mom were just discussing in the kitchen?"
Winthrop Frayne carefully lit the newspaper and kindling and then tossed the match into the fireplace. Turning to his nine-year-old son, he repeated, "Is it?"

Looking at the floor, Jim muttered," No, well, kinda’…not really."

"What did Mom say when you asked her?"

"No," Jim said indignantly. "She said no I couldn’t just have a dollar - she said that I had to earn it."

"What’s wrong with that, Son? Don’t you usually have to earn money so you can buy things?"

"Well, yeah, but it’s just a dollar. It’s not like I’m asking for a hundred dollars."
"True, but you know the policy…"

"Yeah, well, when I’m a dad if my son asks for a dollar I’m going to give him a dollar."

"Sure, but with inflation by the time you have a nine year old, when he asks for money it’ll be a hundred dollars that he asks for like it’s no big deal."

"Right, Dad, like that’ll be true!"

"Of course it is! Why one dollar now is like a hundred when your mom and I were kids."

"You’re not that old."

"Oh, we’re ancient, Son, as old as the hills."

Jim laughed as his dad made an old man face and groaned as he stood up from the hearth.

"Nice acting, Dad."

Win forced a smile, not wanting his son to realize that it wasn’t an act.

"Thanks Jim. Now help the old man out and go bring in some wood for the fire. I need to keep an eye on it so that it doesn’t go out."

The next morning Jim had found a dollar on his pillow.

Rolling over in the darkness, Jim swallowed more sobs and rubbed the tears from his face with the sleeve of his pajamas. How he missed his dad!

His favorite memory, the one he played over and over as he tried to sleep, was dancing with his parents when he was little. His dad was so tall, when he held him up in the air Jim had felt like he was flying.

When he was encircled in the loving arms of his parents, swaying back and forth to the soft music flowing from the stereo, Jim had never felt safer or more loved. They’d dance until he was asleep and then his dad would carry him upstairs and tuck him in. A few times, he had faked being asleep so he could enjoy the loving touch of his dad’s big hands as he tucked him in and kissed him on the forehead. On those occasions, he’d snuck back to the stairs and watched as his mom and dad had continued to dance. Just seeing them like that had reassured him that all was well in his world.

What he wouldn’t give now to have his dad downstairs dancing with his mom. He’d make sure to find the longest song in the world and have his dad play it. If the song never ended, then his dad couldn’t ever leave.

Finally, spent of tears and energy, Jim began to drift off to sleep. There was music and his dad and mom were holding their arms out to him. His tear-stained face broke into a grin as, in his dream; he remembered the love and security he had always felt in his parents’ arms. He didn’t ever want it to end.

 The End

**I wrote this story in November of 2006 and posted it on Zap's page. I'd first heard this song when we were driving back from visiting my grandparents in Arizona when my oldest was little - probably Christmas of 2003. From reading my original author's note below, I guess I heard it again in 2006 and Jim shared a memory with me.

**I heard this song by Luther Vandross on the radio a few weeks ago. I’d heard of it, but had never actually listened to the song until then. The first time I heard it, I thought of Jim and his dad. It’s been nagging at me to be written ever since then. So today, not only did I write this Jim story, but another one also. So hopefully this makes him happy and he’ll leave me alone for a little while.
I used Mr. Vandross’ song title for my story title w/o permission, and the basis of the story comes from his song also. The characters belong to Random House and I borrowed them sin permiso also. But being as I make no profit from this, it shouldn’t be a problem.
If you haven’t heard this song, go to this link and listen to it…it’s beautiful!
http://www.luthervandross.com/index2.html

Old GWP's from Zap's - 1999

With this extra down time for Covid-19, you'd think I'd have gotten all these stories in one place, etc. But I haven't. "Distance Learning" my own children in much harder than working with 6 different groups of kids every day at work. So my goal is to get all my past fan fic posted on this blog (including my epic) by early July (my birthday). And maybe that will help me get the ideas for various stories out of my head and on to here.  

 Group Writing Project #2

 Each story contains these ten elements:

A broken down car - a stick
Cheez-it - a muddy boot
Trixie's favorite musical group or performer
a cat - fog - a camera
a phone call with just breathing on the line
a shrunken head with a curse

A Night in the Fog (Trixie)

by bethlorr

"Dang it, Fred! I’ve done it to us again!" exclaimed Trixie, slapping the steering wheel of her broken down car. "We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere."

A foggy nowhere, Fred thought, but decided to keep it to himself and gazed unblinkingly at Trixie.

"It was for times like this that made me buy that cell phone." Still mumbling to herself Trixie reached into her bag and pulled out an assortment of things including her camera and finally her cell phone.

Fred looked with interest at the black object in Trixie’s hand, Good, we won’t be here all night. Now as long as she remembered to…

"Idiot! I am such an idiot!" Trixie threw the phone to the floor. She had turned it on only to be greeted by a prolonged beep and the words LOW BATTERY upon which it had shut itself off. She had been meaning to recharge the phone, but as usual, she had forgotten.

"Well, Fred, I guess we hang out here until the fog clears." Then she began to twist and turn in her seat, trying to reach something behind her. Fred watched her in silence, hardly believing that her body could move in such a fashion…he could hardly do that himself. He began to fear that she would overturn their small car with her movements.

With a cry of success, Trixie returned to her forward-facing position. "I knew that these were in here somewhere – at least we won’t starve."

Speak for yourself, Fred thought as he eyed the Cheez-its being offered him. He sniffed at them and then turned his head to look out the window. He liked cheese better than most, but not in this form.

"Okay, go hungry!" Trixie dumped the extra crackers back into the box. "You’re awfully quiet tonight, Fred. Why don’t you say something?"

Fred turned back from the window and gave her a hard look.

"Alright, never mind. From that look I don’t think I want to know what you are thinking."

As Fred turned back to stare out into the fog again, Trixie began to fiddle with the radio. Amazingly it still worked, even though no other part of the car functioned.

"Static, static, static, and more static! Why do I always get stuck where reception is bad?" Suddenly some music cut through the static.

"Slaw, burger, fries and a bottle of ‘skey. Bring it on out to my baby and me."

Trixie smiled to herself as she reclined in the driver’s seat and closed her eyes. The Bob-Whites had teased her for liking the Kentucky Headhunters for years. It wasn’t so much their music that she liked; it was their quirky name.

With the chorus of "Dumas Walker" echoing in her mind, Trixie drifted off to sleep.

The ringing of the phone woke her. Fumbling around she managed to answer it. "Hello? Hello?"

There was no response, just heavy breathing. With shaking hands she hung up the phone and shook her head to clear the last vestiges of sleep from her mind.

When she opened her eyes, again she found herself wandering around in the orchard at Crabapple Farm. She was walking towards a small clearing that held something mounted on a tall stick.

Am I walking in a swamp? Trixie wondered and looked down at her feet that felt suprisingly wet. She was mystified to see that she was wearing a single muddy boot. That’s odd, she thought. Before she could dwell on her foot attire much longer, she found herself face to face with the stick and what it held.

She gasped in horror to see what was atop the stick. It was Mart’s head! But it was shrunken to the size of a doll’s head.

With no warning its lips began to move and in a resounding voice proclaimed,

"Golden curls and azure orbs have brought upon you a mighty curse;
Forever getting into situations that could find you riding in a hearse.
But men adore you and fight over you too.
And forsaking them and their desires,
You bestow all affection on a feline with eyes of fire."

Trixie stepped away from the stick and its hideous ornament only to have it somehow move closer to her. "No! No! Go away!"

As she stepped back she stumbled and she felt herself falling.

When she opened her eyes, she found that she was back in her car. They were still enclosed by fog and Fred was eyeing her curiously from the passenger seat.

"Hoo boy! What a weird dream that was! Must have been the Cheez-its. Men fighting over me and a feline with eyes of fire? Too weird." The thought of Mart’s head on a stick was strangely appealing at times though.

Jumping slightly as something brushed her arm, she looked once again at Fred. He stared back at her expectantly and rubbed her arm again.

Feeling herself fall under the trance of his odd golden eyes, Trixie’s hand moved to Fred’s long slender body. Slowly she stroked his back and gently moved her hand towards his shoulders.

Fred relaxed and his lids lowered over the golden eyes, quenching the fire there. Yes, she was under his power. Now if she just would stash decent food in the car.

Soon the only sound to be heard was Fred’s even purring and the dripping of the fog on the roof of the car.

The End

  

GWP #3

 Each story is a romance and should include*:

Jell-O gelatin; a favorite candy bar; sundaes; a special event (such as a birthday, holiday, etc.); a favorite movie or T.V. show; a busted vacuum; any piece of jewelry; a small toy; a computer chat room; a Shakespearean quote.

Herald of Joy

by bethlorr

Shaking her head as she stared at the vacuum cleaner in the middle of the floor, Honey Wheeler said, "I should’ve accepted Mother’s offer."

A few months earlier, when she had moved out of Manor House into her own apartment in White Plains, her mother had offered to hire a maid for her. Honey had balked at the idea. A single person in a one-bedroom apartment had no need for a maid. It had taken her three days to convince her mother of that. In the end she had told her mother to do as she pleased, but if a maid showed up at her apartment, she’d fire her on the spot.

Her poor mother had been speechless as Honey had delivered her ultimatum. Her baby was no longer a shy quiet little girl – she was an adult with backbone.

The memory of the conversation brought a small grin of satisfaction to Honey’s face as she began to dismantle the machine to discover why it refused to work this time.

Her grin widened as she thought back to the reaction that story had brought from her brother Jim. He had stared at her in pure amazement as she had related the conversation to her brother over ice cream sundaes. When she had finished the story his laughter had echoed in the large hall where they were sitting.

Honey had sat there and glared at him until he had finally regained his composure. He had asked how Mother had reacted to her outburst. Honey had allowed herself a small smile as she repeated their mother’s shocked response, ‘You may look just like me, but you are definitely your father’s daughter.’

That had caused Jim to burst into laughter once again. Honey had decided to ignore him and let her eyes wander around the large hall at his school. It was here where his students ate most of their meals, did projects on rainy days, and gathered on Sunday afternoons to rest and relax. It was furnished with tables and chairs for meals and scattered cushions for relaxing and it made Honey feel welcome.

Drawn to the hall by Jim’s laughter, Mart and his wife, Linnie, had decided to come see what all the fun was, after checking to make sure all the students were in the dorms and accounted for. Honey had repeated her story for them at Jim’s urging. Amid the ensuing laughter, she had grumbled, "You know, I didn’t think it was that funny!"

Mart had responded, wiping mock tears from his eyes with a small plush rabbit that he had picked up from the stairs outside the hall, "It’s just that remembering how you were twelve years ago, I would never have guessed that someday you would be standing up to your parents. You hung out with Trixie too much!"

At the mention of Trixie’s name, Jim’s laughter had died out. Honey saw the look of pain and anger come into his eyes that always appeared when Trixie was mentioned. Quickly she had changed the course of the conversation by asking what the school’s plans were for the upcoming Fourth of July celebration. Deep down she decided once again to try and find out from Trixie what had happened between her and Jim.

Now here she was, up to her elbows in dust, dirt, and lint from her vacuum cleaner, wishing that she had graciously accepted her mother’s offer. She had just returned from her two-week stay at Jim’s outdoor school in the mountains of Northern California, and in twenty minutes her boyfriend was supposed to be arriving for dinner.

She didn’t know what had possessed her to say that she would cook on her first night back. But then she hadn’t planned on needing to vacuum her living room either. However, the cats – Bo, Luke, Daisy and MacGyver – had decided to see how many plants they could remove from the planters while she was gone. Glaring at them she said, "I should’ve left you at the office with the dogs! Bobby would’ve fed you there and you would’ve stayed out of trouble." Bo and Luke just looked at her and then jumped up on the couch to stare out the window – Daisy staying below to glare back at her mistress. MacGyver had ignored the outburst completely and was intent on trying to pull the cord out of the back of the vacuum. He was a large gray cat and was strong enough to pull the cord out a few inches, put was mystified every time that it shot back into the canister. Honey stamped her foot and spoke loudly to them again, "That’s it! Next time someone comes in wanting a cat, forget checking the shelter, I’ll just offer them one of you guys!" Again not getting any response, except for Daisy leaping up on the couch to join her cousins watching the cars zip by, Honey threw her hands into the air and stomped off to the kitchen.

There she flung open the refrigerator to see if by some miracle some food had appeared in there since she had last looked an hour before. Well, it looked like she had better call and order pizza again – all that was left was curdled milk, dry bread and some Jell-O she vaguely remembered making for a Memorial Day picnic she and Dan had gone to.

"Hmm, maybe I’ll just look into his deep brown eyes and tell him how much I have missed him and he’ll decided to take me out somewhere…" With that pleasant thought in her mind, she picked up the phone to make a call to the office.

"White Plains Animal Shelter and Clinic, how may I direct your call?"

"Hey Bobby, it’s me, Honey. How are things going?" Honey smiled as she heard Bobby’s deep voice. Even though he looked enough like Mart to be his identical twin, his voice had the same timbre of Brian’s.

"Honey! I didn’t think you would be back until the 15^th? How was your trip?" 

"The trip was great. I love going out there and visiting with Jim. Mart and Linnie send their love – in fact I have your graduation gift from them. Uh, Bobby, this IS the 15^th."

"Oh, uh, well…that’s right," shoot, he’d forgotten to get over there last night and clean up the mess those psycho cats had made. "Things are fine here Honey. Um, about the living room…"

"Oh, so my TV icons of the 80’s didn’t just do this today?" Figures, they probably did it a week ago and Bobby kept putting off the cleaning until it was finally too late.

"I’m so sorry Honey, they did it a couple of days ago. I stopped in to feed them on my way home one night and found the mess. They had all gone into hiding when they heard the key in the door so I couldn’t find any of them. I’d have cleaned it then, but I had a date back in Sleepyside and I was already late. That was the day that Mrs. Murray had brought in her ferret that had swallowed her favorite pearl earring. She came just as I was closing up and the on-call vet had just left so I was trying to find someone else and…"

"It’s okay, Bobby, I forgive you. Just as well that you didn’t try to clean it, the vacuum’s busted."

"Do you want me to come fix it?" Bobby had a date that night, but he figured that the least he could do for his employer was come and fix her vacuum.

"No, that’s okay. I think I really killed it this time. It was the old one Trixie and I had in college, so I guess it has served me well through the years and now it is time for it to go to the big appliance store in the sky. What’s this about the Murray’s ferret?" She had hated that animal ever since it had bitten her on her first day interning, but still she didn’t like to think that it had suffered too much.

"Oh, it’s okay now. While I was trying to find the on-call vet’s cell phone number to get her back here and calm Mrs. Murray down while her darling little Joey kept snarling, he suddenly solved his own problem." Bobby grinned as he remembered how the earring had reappeared.

"How did he solve his own problem?" Honey could guess, but decided to hear Bobby’s version.

"Well, he…you know…left a little calling card and well…" Bobby was choking on laughter, "the lovely pearl earring just kind of shone through."

Honey laughed along with him and asked, "And how did Mrs. Murray feel about her favorite pearl earring then?"

"Well, I offered to get her a Kleenex to retrieve it with and take it home. She just glared at me, picked Joey up and walked out."

"Oh, man…I’m sure she’ll be calling about that soon." Honey shook her head. It was a good thing she was pretty tactful. Some of the pet owners she dealt with were more vicious than their pets.

"Already has. The message and the retrieved earring are waiting for you on your desk."

"Yippee. Something to look forward to. Hey, how was the Fourth for you guys?"

"Same old thing. Barbecue up at the lake with the usual people. Trixie called. She still wants me to go and visit her."

"So are you going?" Honey knew how much Trixie wanted Bobby to come and visit her in Spain.

"Yeah, around the beginning of August, if I can get the time off?"

"Well, I’ll put a good word in with your boss, even if she is kind of a tough nut."

"Whatever Honey! Thanks. Have you heard from her?"

"I caught up with her in our chat room when I got home this morning. She didn’t have much to say, asked how you all were doing and requested that I send her a case of Hot Tamales…she says that after three years she still can’t get over the fact that Spain doesn’t have any cinnamon candy or gum." Honey didn’t tell Bobby about Jim’s reaction to Trixie’s name or the fact that Trixie still wouldn’t speak of him when they chatted on line.

"She mentioned that to Brian too."

"Hey, how is your big brother doing?"

"He’s got some big thing planned for tonight. I’m not supposed to talk about it to you or anyone so…"

Honey smiled, "I understand. I won’t ask anymore questions. I suppose I’d better let you get back to work. Thanks for taking care of the destructive little icons. I’ll see you tomorrow."

As Honey hung up she mussed over what Bobby had just shared. Brian has something big planned for tonight? What could that be? Maybe…she’d have to call Di in the morning.

There was a knock on the door. Oh, no! She didn’t even take time to look in the mirror, she knew who it would be. She looked awful, but no time to change or even brush her hair.

Opening the door she began, "I’ve missed you…" and was cut off as the man at the door enveloped her in a large hug and passionate kiss.

When they separated a short while later she finished her sentence, " a lot. I guess the same goes for you."

Running his hand through his dark hair, Dan replied, "You got it. Did you have a nice…" his voice faded out as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked a bit defensively.

"Nothing Honey, it’s just that…um, did you have to walk back across the country?"

Honey looked in the mirror by the door and grimaced. She saw that not only were her feet dusty and dirty from walking barefoot across the territory of the plants and dismantled vacuum, but also that she was wearing threadbare shorts and a faded old T-shirt, both of which were covered in cat hair and dirt. There were streaks of dirt across her face and forehead and her hair had started to escape the scrunchie that was holding it on top of her head and was also dusty.

Laughing she replied, "Come see what the Dukes and Mac have been up to."

Dan followed her into the living room with a quizzical look on his face. The expression quickly changed to one of amusement when he saw the disaster that covered the living room floor. "Problems with the vacuum again?"

"I’m retiring it! Tomorrow after work I’ll go to Walmart and get a new one." With her foot she shoved the vacuum out of the way and made her way to the couch. She plopped down and dislodged the cats on the back. Daisy and Bo ran off hissing while Luke just rolled over and landed with a thud in her lap.

Dan stepped around MacGyver, who was still battling with the cord, and joined Honey on the couch. He put his arm around Honey’s shoulders and pulled her close. Oh, how he had missed her. It was the longest they had been apart in the year that they had been dating. After the struggle that they had gone through to begin their relationship they hadn’t wanted to be separated much. At times he still had to pinch himself that Honey was really his girlfriend – it had been a dream for so long.

Honey rested her head on Dan’s chest with a sigh of contentment. She hadn’t thought it possible to miss someone as much as she had missed Dan. There, in the circle of his arms, she always felt safer than she did anywhere else. It had taken her so long to realize that she loved Dan, now she wanted to enjoy it. Both of them were so busy with their jobs that rarely did they have quiet time together like this. She didn’t even care that she looked like she had been cleaning a barn, it didn’t matter to either of them.

Dan felt her body relax against his. What a nice way to end the day. To come home to love and sweetness after struggling in the streets of New York City, trying to help kids see that they had options besides joining a gang. He and Honey had talked about this before; neither of them had come from an ideal home life. His father had been killed and then his mother died. When his uncle became his guardian things changed a little, but he still didn’t have a real home with a mom and a dad. True, Honey had grown up with both of her parents, but being shuttled between school and camp and governesses wasn’t the same as having a mom or dad that you could turn to all the time. That was the one thing that they could both relate to when they first met – they both envied the Beldens for the their stable family life. That’s why Honey had tried so desperately to maintain a relationship with Brian, even when they both knew it would never work; and why he had tried to imagine there were feelings between himself and Trixie when there were none – they just wanted to be part of a real family.

It was so quiet; the only sound was Luke’s purring and Mac’s occasional swat at the cord of the vacuum. What was that quote? It had struck a chord with him when he read Much Ado About Nothing in high school and he had memorized it. Yes, "Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy, if I could say how much." That was exactly how he felt. There was just one thing he wanted to say. He had planned it all out and even made reservations at their favorite restaurant for the next night, but the time was right now. He even had the ring in his pocket because he had picked it up at the jewelers that afternoon.

He reached for Honey’s hand and brought it to his lips. She turned her face to look into his eyes. He saw the love that they shared reflected in her hazel eyes. Words were no longer necessary. He felt that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Wordlessly he reached into his pocket and felt the small velvet covered box. He opened it with little difficulty and removed the ring. Not taking his eyes from her face for a moment, Dan slid the ring on to the third finger on her left hand.

Honey slowly looked at her finger. Yes, it was simple. Yes, it was only a fraction of the size of the diamond on her mother’s engagement ring. But only one thing mattered, it was from Dan. Blushing she raised her eyes to meet Dan’s again. She felt as if he were reading her mind. No words were needed. What was that line from Shakespeare that she remembered from AP English? Yes, "Silence is the perfectest herald of joy." How true it was…

The End