Click here to read my first excerpt from this book.
(This is another short excerpt from my literary project titled Second Chances. It has been more than two years in the making, and I figure it'll take me a few more before this will eventually materialize into a full-length novel I can publish. In addition, this piece may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition. End disclaimer. Meanwhile, the following features a monologue by the protagonist's father, Arnold, talking to his son, Ronald, about his immediate future. I wrote this piece on Friday, December 9, 2011. Enjoy.)
Arnold began to walk away in disgust, stopping just before the front door and signaling for Ronald to come over from the dining room. He meekly made his way over.
"Do you see this door in front of you?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well," Arnold said, "it's open for you to leave at any minute. I've tried all I could to get logical answers out of you, but all I've got in return is a bunch of smoke and mirrors. I don't know what the color of the sky is in your world, but on Earth, reasonable grown ups base their lives on fact, not whatever feels right in the here and now."
He sighed out of exasperation.
"If there's one thing I'll grant you, it's that you're now a legal adult with minimal restrictions. If you wanna play the lottery, have a smoke, or bang a coed, no one has the right to stop you. But with rights come responsibilities. It's the same deal with Duke. While you've certainly earned the right to attend that school, you've failed to take responsibility on how you're gonna pay for tuition, much less room and board and any other expenses. That, my son, is dangerous thinking.
"And know this, too. If you choose to walk out that door and leave for Durham by week's end, this is the last you'll ever hear from me. As much as I wanna knock some sense into you, I've come to realize that strategy will never work again. Y'know why?"
Ronald shook his head.
"Because you've officially, if not already, entered the age of accountability. I don't know how you can stand there with a straight face and say a timeless principle is 'irrational,' but you must live with your decisions and accept the consequences. If that means going there and getting straddled with tens of thousands of dollars worth of debt in the name of higher education, don't even think of running back to me to help bail you out. Because I won't answer.
"I'm sorry, son. I can't, in good conscience, allow you to matriculate to Duke. The university may be ready for you, but you're not ready for the university.
"If you want, you can always start off with the local community college on the other side of town. They accept anyone who's got a high school diploma or a GED. Their academic standards may be less... rigorous, to put it mildly, but you'd be learning the same things there that you would at Duke. Plus, it's a whole lot less expensive and more convenient for you and I."
Again, he sighed.
"I don't know what else I can say to enlighten you, other than this little nugget for you to chew on. What would you rather do? Take a world-class eduation with bleak job prospects and no support of any kind, or swallow your pride and work your way back up with nothing to lose? The choice is yours."
Arnold left on that note out the door that had been ajar the whole time. Ronald quickly went back to his room to see his father head for his car and out for a drive. His eyes began to well up again as he sulked back through the hallway and toward the front entrance. He closed the door.
Showing posts with label Second Chances. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Second Chances. Show all posts
Friday, December 9, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Excerpt from 'Second Chances'
Edit made Friday, December 9, 2011: Click here to read my second excerpt from this book.
(This is a short excerpt from my literary project titled Second Chances. It has been more than a year in the making, and I figure it'll take me a few more before this will materialize into a full-length novel I can publish. In addition, this piece may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition. End disclaimer. Meanwhile, the following is a dialogue between two characters – an unnamed beau and a girl named Taylor – talking about the husband of a friend of Taylor's when he and Taylor went to high school together. I wrote this piece last night – Friday, January 28, 2011 – as I was listening to Thriller by Michael Jackson. Enjoy.)
"Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."
"No problem, Taylor. What's up?"
"I gotta come clean. There's a lot of stuff that has been weighing on my mind, and I just don't think it's fair for either you or me to keep things under wraps. Especially considering how long we've known each other."
"It's been several years, I think."
"At least. Anyway, I need to get several things out in the open. For my sake, for your sake, for our sake."
"Fire away. Where would you like to start?"
"With Paige's husband."
"Vince?"
"Correctamundo."
"What do you have against him?"
"He forced himself upon me when we were in high school."
"I'm so sorry."
"It was brutal. I first met him when we were freshmen. He was so innocent back then. We had a class together, and we were academically superior to the rest of our peers. One day near the end of the school year, I guess he had the courage to come up to me and ask if I wanted to go out with him. I initially declined. Then he asked me for my phone number. Again, I told him no. I wasn't interested. Figuring he was on his final strike, he took out a notecard, or something of similar size, and wrote down his number and handed it to me. He said that we weren't going anywhere because our intelligence would keep pairing us up. 'The sooner you figure that out, the less of a struggle it'll be.' I went home, thought about it for a while, and eventually dropped the matter like a lead balloon. But he was right.
"That first day back sophomore year, we were in four classes together, two of which we sat next to each other. If you were there, you would've sworn it was meant to be. 'Cause in retrospect, that's what I thought. At the end of the day, after our seventh period European history class, he tapped me on the shoulder, and said 'What'd I tell you', as if he saw this coming. More or less, I told him to go find someone else to bother. Again, he was relentless. He gently grabbed me by the arm, and told me a sob story about how he and his parents moved down from New York a few years ago and how much he wanted some female companions because his mother was frequently beaten into submission by his father, a Catholic priest of all things. I found out later that he was telling the truth, but I didn't believe him at the time. I said that if he didn't leave me alone, I would talk to the Dean of Student Services and have him transfer me out of all my classes with Vince. I never did so."
"How come?"
"Because it was an impossibility to switch around those classes without causing a number of scheduling conflicts, primarily. But as that second year wore on, a friendly rivalry also began to bud. We frequently got the highest grades in our classes together, and we started competing amongst ourselves in every venture. Homework, tests, projects, research paper. You name it. I actually looked forward to classes with him when we came back from Christmas break. And when summer vacation was just around the corner, I pulled a one-eighty and gave him my phone number. Needless to say, he felt accomplished that day."
"Did Vince ever make any more female friends aside from you?"
"He did, actually. As it turned out, he was quite popular with the girls at our school, which I found ironic considering his demeanor toward me."
"Had he ever mentioned at any point in time that you reminded him of his mother?"
"I never caught that, no. But when we started going out later that summer, it kinda felt like he was trying to impress his mother."
"How so?"
"On every date I can recall, he was well-dressed, well-groomed, and he always gave me a single gladiola as a token of appreciation."
"Sounds chivalrous."
"Indeed, but whatever he did must've worked. On our third date, we went to an outdoor BBQ and concert at a park the day before the Fourth of July. The food was great, but I couldn't say the same for the band playing that night. I think they were a local indie group gigging around, trying to catch a break. The point to this story was that after they stopped sounding like a jam session on LSD, the lights went out and a fireworks show got started on the other side of the lake where we were standing. He held my hand for a minute then, out of nowhere, he kissed me on the lips. If that had happened any other time, I would've pushed him away. But when we stood liplocked underneath the twinkling stars and colorful bursts of light, I felt like I stepped into a movie or some romance novel that was written especially for me. The scene couldn't have been scripted any better, and while I sound like I've shown no interest beyond a friendship, I gradually became mesmerized by him in the months and weeks leading up to that moment. When it happened, I began to fall in love with him."
(This is a short excerpt from my literary project titled Second Chances. It has been more than a year in the making, and I figure it'll take me a few more before this will materialize into a full-length novel I can publish. In addition, this piece may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition. End disclaimer. Meanwhile, the following is a dialogue between two characters – an unnamed beau and a girl named Taylor – talking about the husband of a friend of Taylor's when he and Taylor went to high school together. I wrote this piece last night – Friday, January 28, 2011 – as I was listening to Thriller by Michael Jackson. Enjoy.)
"Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."
"No problem, Taylor. What's up?"
"I gotta come clean. There's a lot of stuff that has been weighing on my mind, and I just don't think it's fair for either you or me to keep things under wraps. Especially considering how long we've known each other."
"It's been several years, I think."
"At least. Anyway, I need to get several things out in the open. For my sake, for your sake, for our sake."
"Fire away. Where would you like to start?"
"With Paige's husband."
"Vince?"
"Correctamundo."
"What do you have against him?"
"He forced himself upon me when we were in high school."
"I'm so sorry."
"It was brutal. I first met him when we were freshmen. He was so innocent back then. We had a class together, and we were academically superior to the rest of our peers. One day near the end of the school year, I guess he had the courage to come up to me and ask if I wanted to go out with him. I initially declined. Then he asked me for my phone number. Again, I told him no. I wasn't interested. Figuring he was on his final strike, he took out a notecard, or something of similar size, and wrote down his number and handed it to me. He said that we weren't going anywhere because our intelligence would keep pairing us up. 'The sooner you figure that out, the less of a struggle it'll be.' I went home, thought about it for a while, and eventually dropped the matter like a lead balloon. But he was right.
"That first day back sophomore year, we were in four classes together, two of which we sat next to each other. If you were there, you would've sworn it was meant to be. 'Cause in retrospect, that's what I thought. At the end of the day, after our seventh period European history class, he tapped me on the shoulder, and said 'What'd I tell you', as if he saw this coming. More or less, I told him to go find someone else to bother. Again, he was relentless. He gently grabbed me by the arm, and told me a sob story about how he and his parents moved down from New York a few years ago and how much he wanted some female companions because his mother was frequently beaten into submission by his father, a Catholic priest of all things. I found out later that he was telling the truth, but I didn't believe him at the time. I said that if he didn't leave me alone, I would talk to the Dean of Student Services and have him transfer me out of all my classes with Vince. I never did so."
"How come?"
"Because it was an impossibility to switch around those classes without causing a number of scheduling conflicts, primarily. But as that second year wore on, a friendly rivalry also began to bud. We frequently got the highest grades in our classes together, and we started competing amongst ourselves in every venture. Homework, tests, projects, research paper. You name it. I actually looked forward to classes with him when we came back from Christmas break. And when summer vacation was just around the corner, I pulled a one-eighty and gave him my phone number. Needless to say, he felt accomplished that day."
"Did Vince ever make any more female friends aside from you?"
"He did, actually. As it turned out, he was quite popular with the girls at our school, which I found ironic considering his demeanor toward me."
"Had he ever mentioned at any point in time that you reminded him of his mother?"
"I never caught that, no. But when we started going out later that summer, it kinda felt like he was trying to impress his mother."
"How so?"
"On every date I can recall, he was well-dressed, well-groomed, and he always gave me a single gladiola as a token of appreciation."
"Sounds chivalrous."
"Indeed, but whatever he did must've worked. On our third date, we went to an outdoor BBQ and concert at a park the day before the Fourth of July. The food was great, but I couldn't say the same for the band playing that night. I think they were a local indie group gigging around, trying to catch a break. The point to this story was that after they stopped sounding like a jam session on LSD, the lights went out and a fireworks show got started on the other side of the lake where we were standing. He held my hand for a minute then, out of nowhere, he kissed me on the lips. If that had happened any other time, I would've pushed him away. But when we stood liplocked underneath the twinkling stars and colorful bursts of light, I felt like I stepped into a movie or some romance novel that was written especially for me. The scene couldn't have been scripted any better, and while I sound like I've shown no interest beyond a friendship, I gradually became mesmerized by him in the months and weeks leading up to that moment. When it happened, I began to fall in love with him."
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