Acceptance

       Just another boring summer’s day, and like usual Billy and his friends were looking to start something.  They often gathered in the alley behind his house plotting, planning, and instigating mischief.  Today was no different. Billy’s friends were always a little more prone to finding trouble than Billy himself.  He just wanted more than anything to fit in.   Even though most of their ideas bordered on plain stupidity Billy went along on the most part.

 

      They talked about girls, sports, and challenged each other to silly dares.  Occasionally they would head to the park to throw a ball around or to the neighborhood pool to cool off.  He was only half listening when Tommy came up with the grand plan to steal something…just to see if they could get away with it.  They would make it a scavenger hunt of sorts.  You had to steal whatever the group decided and get away with it,   and the winner not only got the respect of his peers, he also got to decide what was next on the list.

        Stealing anything was completely stupid. He knew it.   As he listened to their latest hair brain scheme he knew one thing for certain, they would always think of him as a complete tool if he didn’t step up to the plate and show them that he had the guts to do anything they suggested.  They already teased him relentlessly and called him the priest because he normally upheld his ideals.  His sense of right and wrong always battled in his head and heart every single time they suggested anything like this.  Deep down most of them respected him for being so good.  On the surface, they despised him for the same reason. 

          “I’ll do it. I’ll go first.” Billy said with conviction.  Shocked, they turned to look at him, wondering if they had heard correctly.  He stood up, and made his way to the street.  That is when he saw Danielle leaving their brownstone, purse in hand.  Instantly, Billy knew what he had to do.  With a deep breath, he ran after his sister, snatched her purse and took off like a bat of hell with her hot on his heels screaming like a wounded banshee.

    “Billy, you little shit! Come back here!  You are going to make me late for work!” she yelled as she sped off in hot pursuit.  He weaved as he ran trying desperately to lose her.  He would have to answer for this later. He knew it as well as he knew his own name.  Danielle would give him holy hell for making her late.   Ducking into an alley, he rummaged through her purse intent only on what he searched for.  Seeing it, he snatched it, discarded the purse knowing she would find it there and ran hell bent for election to meet his friends.

        Danielle saw him disappear around the corner as she knelt to gather up her purse and its contents.    What the hell was Billy thinking?  The little shit.  If he wanted money, he could have asked her!!  Except, all her money was there.  Nothing really seemed to be missing.  Well he wasn’t going to get away with this.  She was going to give him a good telling off for this little stunt.  She was tired of his bullshit.  She was determined to find out just what the hell he was up too.  It was obviously no good.  Worry and anger engulfed her.  She was justified, damn it and threw caution to the wind as she pursued him with all thoughts of making it to work on time forgotten for the moment.    She found him surrounded by his friends, high fiving at his accomplishment as he held up her favorite pen.  A stupid pen! That was what this was about?  Instantly she knew it was about way more than a pen.   With realization, she smiled slowly turning away.   Good for him.  Through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion surfaced: things don’t always turn out as planned.

This is my response to Speakeasy’s weekly prompt, which is to write a piece in 750 words or less (mine is 671) (1) with some kind of reference to the media prompt, a short film by Tanmay Shah, entitled Intent, AND (2) use the last sentence of:  “Through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion surfaced: things don’t always turn out as planned.”

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The Second Day of Christmas: Loved Ones

    Loved ones are the people you hold most dear in your lives. They may be your friends or your family. They are your everyday support system and help you navigate life through the valleys and the high points. They love you unconditionally, no matter what. They are there for you. They make life worth living. In my life few have held the exalted position of being termed as loved ones. At this point my husband and two children top the list. They are the loves of my life. Without them, my life wouldn’t be complete. Without them, my Christmas wouldn’t be merry and bright.

    Sometimes the people that fall in that classification include a close knit group of friends. They take over where the biological family fails and become as treasured as if they had always been there. They are the chosen ones, not the family we were born into that we had no choice over.

   

     Sadly people come and go throughout a person’s lives. Even loved ones evolve and pass from this life onto the next. Even more sad, oftentimes the biological family you are dealt in life turn out to be on the same page as your enemies. Even though they should by all rights be amongst your loved ones, they are not. They join the group of those people who make it their number one priority to make your life a misery. You find yourself wishing the world would stop and let them off. If people were truly honest, they would admit that every family has at least one troublemaker who makes life difficult for everyone else.

     No matter whom you count as the most near and dear to your heart, without these precious people, life would lose its luster. In the song titled “The Twelve Days of Christmas”, the two turtle doves that represent our loved ones make up a powerful and essential component of Christmas. It is little wonder they are included in the song considering all they symbolize. Love makes life worthwhile not only on Christmas, but on everyday throughout the year. That is all I have to say until the next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Popularity

     What does it take to be popular?? Obviously I never did figure out the winning equation because I was never popular. Generally we as a people flock to others who appear successful, or like they got it all figured out. They are popular because their success leaves the rest of us envious and struggling to emulate them so we can be popular too. They exude a confidence we envy. They are funny. They are talented. They appear to enjoy life.



     I skirted the fringes of the in crowd while in school . My mom was delusional in those days because she thought I was popular due to the fact that no matter where we went, everyone would say hello to me. Just because people are friendly and say hello, doesn’t make them your bosom friends…and it sure doesn’t make you part of the “in” crowd. Even I had enough brains to figure that out.

     Perhaps it was my personality that kept me apart. Most likely it was the fact that I just didn’t get the popular kids and their tendency to act like their $hit smelled just a tad sweeter than most. That attitude never impressed me much and still doesn’t. I wasn’t impressed with people who got their jollies over torturing someone or having a laugh at someone’s expense. Why?? To often I was the tortured one. I knew what it was like to be an outcast and I had no intention of treating others the way I had been treated . I knew exactly what it felt like to be invisible. I was invisible. Still am, and I am good at it! 

     Still like any other teenager I longed for popularity. I longed to be accepted. I was like many who tried to be like the others, but since I simply wasn’t like them…I failed miserably. I wasn’t one of the beautiful people. I didn’t have the look. I didn’t act cool. I didn’t know the right things to say. No matter how hard I tried…I couldn’t impress the beautiful people enough to accept me into their group. Sure I was involved in a lot of things in school which put me into the radar of the beautiful people, but it still never made me one of them. Looking back, I realize now that if I simply let the real me emerge things might have been a little different because now I tend to have more confidence than I ever thought of having back then. May the real Kathy now stand up! Yes, that is me…the giggling one jumping up and down waving my hands.

      The older you get you realize in the big scheme of things all people essentially are the same. We all are born, put our pants on the same way, and ultimately die. If only we could learn from birth the notion that if you are kind to others, they will be kind in return and everyone is a potential friend!! Wouldn't that be great?? Then many people would never experience teasing and ridicule, only love and acceptance.   Maybe then there would be no popularity issues and everyone would be truly equal living happily ever after as friends as G0d intended. Still on the other hand, everyone is magically different...and I would rather be me than anyone else for the sake of popularity.  Let's face it, if you are popular for some fake persona you project to the world, the prize isn't nearly as sweet.   Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.