Sunday in Sunrise, Epilogue

by | Jul 3, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Epilogue

I am sitting in my studio on a Sunday morning, three years to the day that Melissa came to live with us. Turns out she did stay one week. Then she stayed another. Then a month had passed. I was able to convince the agency that I could be an affective foster parent and soon school started.

There were some adjustments to be made on all sides, but it was less of a struggle than I thought. Maria and Melissa learned about their boundaries from having a few spats. They made up quickly and no damage was done. Daria felt a bit unneeded at first, with Maria no longer barging into her room to tell her something. Daria used to complain about that, but it turns out she missed it. Melissa made a good bond with Daria though and before long Daria found both of them barging in to tell her things. She didn’t pretend to hate that anymore.

Six months later I started adoption proceedings and 6 months after that, it was finalized. My 4 daughters conspired to try to convince me to allow Melissa to change her name to match theirs. They suggested Laria, Staria and Faria. I suggested Blaria, Glaria and Ungaria. They didn’t think my suggestions were very good at all. In the end she stayed Melissa, because we all really liked her just as she was.

In September of that year she got another beautiful envelope in the mail from her brother. It was of a sunrise. In it he told her that he was going to finally be able to move back to Oklahoma. He had been discharged from the army and had found a job in Tulsa, the main city in the area. He was here in time for Christmas.

A nicer guy I had never met; polite, creative, caring and very much in love with his little sister. He also, it turns out, fell in love with someone else. Caria was home for the Christmas holiday and they spent a number of days together. They hit it off wonderfully and started dating. By the time the next summer came they were inseparable.

Now I sit in my studio 3 years later thinking about how the most random of events; the placement of an envelope in the wrong box, the desire of a young girl to learn to paint, the death of a good man at an inconvenient time, all led to the events of the past day.

From where I sit in my studio I can see into the kitchen. There, on the table, are 3 corsages. The flowers are white and red, the colors Caria chose for her wedding.

I can see beyond the kitchen into the yard. There is a bunny in the yard the dogs haven’t seen yet. I see it eating a dandelion. There are birds at the bird feeder fighting for a perch. I smile as I look beyond the yard, watching as puffy clouds make an orange and pink blanket in the sky amidst my favorite thing in all the world, a beautiful sunrise.


 The End

Sunday in Sunrise – Chapters 10 and 11

by | Jun 26, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 10

Melissa had a very hard night.  She did fall asleep eventually, but not until after many hours of crying and talking with Maria.  It was finally quiet upstairs around 11.  Mary and I cleaned up the kitchen then sat and talked about the situation.
Daria came home from her camping weekend around 11:30. She scavenged in the fridge while I explained what happened. She had taken 4 plastic containers, opened each one and taken one bite out of each thing before she said anything.  “Is she going to stay with us?”

“I don’t know, but I am thinking we should at least offer to let her say until some permanent arrangements can be made” I said.

Daria put the food away and said, “That’s cool, as long as she isn’t really weird and doesn’t steal my stuff like Maria does.”

I promised her she was quite normal and that we would have another talk with Maria about her stuff being off limits.

Daria laughed, “Fat chance that will help. But it’s cool; I don’t mind another person around. It might keep Maria from bugging me so much.”

In spite of the sarcasm I could tell she was taking it in stride and wouldn’t freak out about it, at least not in the short term.

Daria was still hanging out with us around midnight when Melissa came quietly downstairs and asked if she could have some water.  I introduced her to Daria.  She looked at her and said, “Hi. You’re really pretty.  I like your hair.”

Daria smiled and said, ‘I haven’t washed it all weekend but thanks.”
I got Melissa a cup of water and asked her how she was feeling.

She started to talk but only a bit of crying came out. We consoled her and told her things would work out.  She stopped crying and looked at me. “People tell me that a bunch but bad things keep happening.  Angus told me that.”

Mary spoke softly, “Well, Melissa. Bad things do happen, for sure. They happen and good things happen too.  You are here safe tonight with friends and we will do the best we can to make sure something good happens tomorrow, ok?”

Melissa sniffled, “Ok, I guess that’s what we will hope for.”  She drank her last sip of water and went back upstairs.

Daria went to bed and Mary went home shortly thereafter. I stayed up doing some painting.  I painted a little watercolor sunrise just to occupy my hands while my mind raced.  I had negotiated the terrain of my daughters’ adolescence in pretty good shape.  It hadn’t been perfect, but I had enjoyed the first two as teenagers so far and expect I would enjoy it with Maria as well.

I wasn’t worried about if I could handle another kid in the house, I was worried about whether Maria and Daria could.  Initially Maria would love having Melissa around, I knew that. But it was a big shift to bring in a new child.  The family equilibrium was stable, but it was floating on a relatively calm ocean of hormones, not truly on solid ground.It was sunrise when I finally got a bit of sleep.


Chapter 11


I called Velma’s sister, Violet, as soon as I thought it reasonable, around 10 am.  She said Velma had a dizzy spell when she got home and had been in bed ever since.  She said that they were going to have to travel to Mississippi for the funeral since that is where Angus had been raised and where all his folk were buried.  There was a good chance Velma would move back there in the not too distant future.

She asked, “Are you interested in taking her in?” I responded, “She can stay here for a few days.  What about her brother in Alabama, can he take her in?”

Violet explained, “No, he is in the military and will be for another 2 years.  He loves her but he isn’t in any position to take care of her.  Her parents are both dead so she has no where to go but into foster care, at least until she gets adopted, which isn’t all that likely given she is already 10 years old.”  It all sounded so harsh.  “She can come back to say goodbye to Velma and get her stuff, but she won’t be able to live here anymore.” I made arrangements to drop by Velma’s with Melissa later in the day.

Mary, Melissa, Maria and I all went over.  Velma was sitting at the kitchen counter when we got there.  Melissa went over to Velma and hugged her. Velma started to cry.  Melissa said, “I’m real sorry about Angus.  I liked him a lot.”  Velma pushed her back a bit and apologized, “I am really sorry too, Melissa.  I am also really sorry that I won’t be able to take care of you anymore. I like you bunches. You are a great young girl, one of the best kids we have ever had live with us.  But I have to deal with a lot of stuff now that Angus is gone and I am not feeling very good at all.  We will get all your stuff and make sure you have a new place to live, ok?”

Melissa put her head down and just nodded. Just then there was a knock on the aluminum storm door.  Violet answered it and in came a short woman with long black hair. She was made up with a lot of mascara and blush.  She said hello to Velma, gave her condolences then turned her attention to Melissa.  “Hi Melissa.” She said.  “Sorry this didn’t work out for very long. “ She said.  “Who is your friend?” she asked, looking at Maria.

“This is Maria.  That’s her father.  I spent the night there last night. They are really nice.” Melissa exclaimed.
“Can you go start to pack while I talk to Velma a little bit?” Jan asked.
When Melissa and Maria disappeared down the hall and she heard the door close the woman addressed Velma.  “So, you are sure you can’t keep her at least for a while?  I don’t have anywhere to put her right yet. There just ain’t enough people willing to take in a kid right now.  She would likely have to go north up to the city to find a home for her and even that would be really short term I think.  That family already has 5 other foster kids living with them.”

Violet spoke up quick. “Jan, this is Art, Maria’s dad. He was nice enough to let her spend the night at his house last night.  He said he could put her up for a while until a permanent place could be found for her.  Art, this is Jan. She is the case worker for Melissa.”Jan looked at me.  “You got a wife there?”

“No.” I said. “She left about 7 years ago.  I have raised my 3 daughters by myself since then.  Maria is Melissa’s age, another who is 15 and another who is 19, off at college.”
Jan shook her head. “Wow, you should have a lot more gray hair if you raised 3 girls and 2 are teenagers.”

I laughed and said, “No, I just went bald instead.” Lifting up my cap to show my lack of hair on top.

She returned to the issue at hand, “Well, I have to check you out in the system and all that stuff but in an emergency I have some leeway.  I have to come over and see where you live now though. My boss won’t like that you are a single dad.”

“I can vouch for him. He’s a great dad.”  Mary spoke confidently.  She looked at me and smiled.Jan responded quickly, “He may be a great dad, but my boss thinks all guys are perverts. She won’t like that there is no woman around.  Who are you?”

Mary smiled at Jan, “I am his next door neighbor. I have lived next to him for 10 years now.  I have seen him do all the stuff a mother and father would do and he does it really well.  I am around a lot.”

I smiled at Mary.  Jan looked hard at me again.  “I’ll call the office and they’ll check you out.  You cool with that?  While they check we can go see your place.”
“Yep, no problem.” I said.
Jan didn’t spend much time at my house, or ask a lot of questions. She looked at the rooms, the kitchen, and the living room. She asked what I did for a living and I told her I was an artist.  She looked at me funny and said, “You make enough money from that?”

I told her I did.  I showed my studio to her, explained my commissions and contracts, and she seemed satisfied.

Her cell phone rang.  “Hi Dot.  Yea, I am over at his house now.  It looks ok considering no woman lives here.”  She explained.  I looked at Mary.  She was trying to keep from laughing.

Jan walked outside and closed the door. I could hear her talking but couldn’t hear what she was saying.  She raised her voice a bit at one point.  Finally she came back in and said, “She says you check out so far and Melissa can stay with you on an emergency basis for the week.  What happens after that, who knows?”

We called Melissa and Maria downstairs.  I sat down and brought the two of them close. “Melissa, if you want to, you can stay here for a while. Maria, would you mind having a roommate for a week?  I know it doesn’t sound permanent but it’s the best we can do for now, ok?”

The looked at each other and out came a harmonized squeal that made everyone in the room smile and put their hands over their ears at the same time. Even Daria was smiling. They jumped around in circles laughing and whooping it up for a few minutes before stopping on a dime.  Maria looked at me.  “Can we go upstairs and rearrange our room?”

I looked around at all the smiling faces and said, “Go do your damage!” and off they ran.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 9

by | Jun 19, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 9

Velma was angry and sad at the same time.  She had been by Angus’ side when he collapsed at home. Angus whispered for her to drive the truck to the hospital so they would have a way to get home later.  She wanted to go in the ambulance with him but did what he suggested.  When she got to the hospital they were already taking him in to the ER and when she saw him next, he was dead.

She was angry at Angus for suggesting that and at herself for agreeing to it.  But the anger was overwhelmed by the sadness and desolation of knowing he was gone.  64 years of a life with the best partner in the world was over.  She sat next to his hospital bed, holding his hand.  She sniffed and sunk her head in her hands again and again.  She would look up at his face and drop her head immediately, as if weighed too much for her neck.

Her sister, Violet, was there when I arrived.  She stood behind Velma and rubbed her shoulders lightly.  I stood off at a distance but Violet caught on that I wanted to talk to her and came over.  Her eyes were red from crying.  I told her who I was and that Melissa was at my house playing with Maria.  She didn’t miss a beat before saying ‘Well, there is no way Velma can take care of her now, can she stay at your house?

I said, “Of course.  She is about the same size as my daughter so she can wear her pajamas and fresh clothes in the morning if she wants.  Someone can pick her up tomorrow or I can drop her off wherever she needs to go.”
Violet’s response made me nervous, “I meant I don’t think Velma will be able to take care of her for a long time, if ever. They were about to be finished with the foster children business. Velma looks healthy enough but she has been having spells lately.  She fainted 3 times in the last 2 months and it was worrying Angus quite a bit.  I will talk to her and maybe I can call you in the morning about what we need to do with Melissa, ok?”
I didn’t let my concern show when I said, “Ok, we will figure it out tomorrow.”  I then had another worrisome thought.  “Do you want me to tell her what happened or will Velma or you tell her?”
She said, “Well, I have a funny feeling she will be asking questions right away.  If she does, go ahead and tell her.  She has had people lie to her before about this sort of thing and she doesn’t take kindly to it.  Just tell her the truth. ”Violet gave me her cell phone number and said I could call her instead of Velma’s home number for the next day since Velma would probably stay at her house, at least overnight.
After giving my condolences to Velma I drove home.  After I called Mary to tell her I was on my way home I rolled down all 4 car windows.  I felted oddly comforted by the wind, noise and buffeting I felt from the turbulent air swirling around me.  I tried to figure out what words I would use in telling her what happened. I didn’t know if she was religious and should say he is in heaven.  I wondered what Violet meant about Melissa having been lied to before.  I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to be insensitive either.
Melissa and Maria were waiting in the front yard when I got home.  “What happened?” Melissa asked as I shut the car door.
“Well, Angus had to go to the hospi…”  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” She said before I finished my sentence.
I looked at her big eyes and knew that she knew.  “Yes, he is” I said.
She sat in the grass and started to cry. Maria sat down as well and put her arm around her.  Mary came out the front door.  We walked a few strides away and she told me that Melissa had been saying she knew Angus was dead for almost an hour.
I told Mary what Violet had said about Velma probably not being able to take care of Melissa.  Mary looked at me and said, “Well, Melissa and Maria have said more than a few times tonight that they wished they were sisters.”
I was up until the sunrise thinking many things.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 8

by | Jun 12, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 8

The rest of the afternoon sped by. The girls made peanut butter and turkey cracker sandwiches, which they declared to be ‘very good’ when I asked. They went out back and both got in the hammock. They watched the birds in the birdbath, laughing at them dunking themselves and shaking all the water off. That gave them the idea to run through the sprinkler, which I let them do.

6 o’clock came and went with no sign of Velma. I didn’t worry about it too much until about 6:30 or so.  I asked Melissa to call home to see where she was. There was no answer. She said neither of them had a cell phone. By about 7:00 I was starting to worry. We called again and still there was no answer.

Finally around 7:15 I decided I should drive over to their house to see if I could figure out what was going on. I went next door and asked my neighbor Mary if she would watch the girls for a few minutes. She was happy to. I told her that if Velma or Angus came by it was fine to let Melissa go with them and to call me on my cell phone if they heard anything.

Velma and Angus lived in a nice mobile home park on the west edge of Sunrise. I had been in it once before to pick up some soccer supplies from a parent so I pretty much knew where I was going. Their mobile home was very nicely maintained, with a little flower bed next to an astroturf patio area. They had a lot of garden stones with words like ‘peace’ and ‘happiness’ carved into them.

I didn’t see their truck as I drove up and the blinds in the back window near the patio were closed. I knocked on the door but no one answered.

As I walked back out to my car an older gentleman on a bicycle was coming down the road waving to me. Right then my cell phone rang. It was my neighbor Mary. As she started talking so did the man on the bike. From both I heard the same thing, overlapping in a weird harmony, ‘Angus had to go to the hospital.’

I asked Mary how Melissa was doing and she said she was fine, all she knew was that Velma would be late.  I asked, “So, what did Velma tell you?”

Mary explained, “She just said Angus had a bad pain and had to be looked at, that was all. She was sorry for the inconvenience and she would call when she was able to get back to the pay phone at the hospital.”

I asked Mary if she could stay for a while longer. “Yes of course. Do you want me to feed the girls?” I said that would be great.

I turned my attention to the gentleman on the bike. He continued, “Velma called the ambulance and they took Angus away on a stretcher. They had oxygen and a bunch of people all around him. I hope he is ok.”I was pretty sure what hospital they took him too but asked anyway just to be sure. “Yep, they took him to that little one on Rt. 57, up near the river.” I thanked him and headed north.

The hospital was a cinderblock affair, very small and utilitarian. What it lacked in beauty it made up for in kindness. I had brought all 3 of my girls here at one time or another. Caria had broken her leg playing soccer, Daria had been checked out after she got bit by a spider and Maria had her hand taken care of after burning it in the kitchen. Now you know why she knows the kitchen rules so well.

I parked next to Velma and Angus’s truck and made my way into the emergency entrance. Velma wasn’t in the waiting room so I asked at the desk if Angus Billet had been admitted. The woman at the desk turned out to be Betsy McMillan, who I recognized as a parent from Maria’s class. She looked up and said, “Hi Art. Yes, he was.”

“Hi Betsy, can you tell me what he was admitted for?” I asked.

“They think he had a heart attack.” She responded.

“Wow, that is no good at all. Velma told me he wasn’t feeling well today when she dropped off Melissa at our house.”I said.

“They have a daughter? That’s terrible.” She said as she returned to her paperwork.

“She’s a foster child, has only been with them a short while.” I explained.

“Well, it won’t be quite as hard on her then I guess.”

“What do you mean? Is he going to be in the hospital a while you think?” I asked.

“No, that heart attack, or whatever it was, was really bad. He didn’t make it.” She said.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 7

by | Jun 5, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 7

I had the most fidgety daughter in the history of church attendance that Sunday. She wasn’t fooled by my attempts to distract her.  She wore her watch for the first time in about a year. She had set her alarm so she could get up and make her final play date preparation.  It was odd because she had many friends and they had come over on a regular basis. She had never invested this much time and effort into their play dates.

Whatever the reasons for her excitement, it certainly made the morning insufferable for me. I was very glad when the doorbell rang at 2 pm on the nose.  Maria was there waiting and the door was opened before the chimes had finished their echo through the house.  Melissa was in a purple jumper, with her hair in pigtails, not dissimilar to Maria’s outfit and hair.  Had there been some conversation about what to wear during their brief time together the week before or had some girl sixth sense taken control of them both? I had no idea. But they could have passed for twins and they were obviously overjoyed at seeing how well they matched. They were both gone in a flash up the stairs before Velma was fully past the threshold of the door.Velma smiled a bit and said, ‘You have no idea what a handful she has been waiting for today.”

“Oh, yes I do, trust me.” I responded.

Velma lost her smile rather quickly and said, “I need to get back, Angus is feeling under the weather. When should I come pick her up?”

“I think they could easily spend the whole afternoon together so why don’t we say around 6. They should be worn out by then.”

Velma smiled again and said, “I reckon that’s a good time. See you then.” She yelled a goodbye up the stairs and we heard a laugh and a bye from Melissa in response.

I didn’t see the two girls again for about 2 hours. I heard them plenty, but I didn’t hear anything break and I didn’t smell anything burning so I left them alone while I caught up on some office paperwork I had been avoiding for too long.

The weekend had been relatively quiet until they started playing because Daria was gone for the weekend, camping with her best friend’s family in Arkansas. Caria had moved out of the house a year before to go to college and was now doing a summer project in Chicago through her school so she hadn’t been around for a while.

I was enjoying the sound of girls playing in the distance, it reminded me of the years all three daughters were young and excited to play together. Daria was now a new teenager, 3 years older than Maria. She wasn’t always amenable to Maria’s pleas to play dress up or build a fort. She was more into experimenting with crazy makeup and asking leading questions about how many piercings I would allow her to get and where. Caria, 5 years older than Daria, would always indulge her younger sisters but once she got her license she just wasn’t around very much.  She had done an excellent job filling in a bit when their mother left, but since I worked from home she never had to take on that role full time.  All the girls were changed by the departure but we had managed well to keep a strong feeling of family intact.

At 4 o’clock the girls bounded down the stairs and announced they were hungry and were going to make a snack for themselves. What that was going to entail I had no idea but Maria knew the rules of the kitchen so I was confident there would be no sharp knives or gas turned on without me being there to supervise.As I heard drawers open and shut, dishes clatter, and more giggles I also heard another sound.  It wasn’t a sound you hear often in Sunrise. When you do it makes you wonder what is happening and to whom.  The sound traveled from east to west, probably coming within a ½ mile of our house before moving away again. The siren sounded like a fire truck.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 6

by | May 29, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 6
Angus and his wife were indeed foster parents. They had been foster parents for more than 35 kids over the years. It looked like they had as many as 7 at one time a decade or so back. “Wow, that’s a lot of kids” I thought to myself. “I have trouble handling three!”  I kept wondering how they would keep all their names straight.
My method for remembering the names of my 3 girls was easy enough. My wife had insisted they all be named similarly. We named our first Caria. She was named after her mother’s great aunt. She was the one who traveled the world and changed her name to Caria from Mildred after a year-long trip to Italy during the 1920s. She left with the name Mildred Smithers and came home as Caria Anastasia. She legally changed her name and would never answer to her old name again.

My wife, Pam, had always loved her great aunt. She had given her trinkets from her journeys, let her play with the incredible clothing and fabric she brought home, and would tell the most mesmerizing stories of exotic locales.

Our second child was named Daria. She was named after a multinational corporation. We went on a road trip vacation to Canada one summer and we found these little bite-sized pieces of chocolate glory called Twigg’s Shortbread Snacks. My wife became addicted to them during the trip. We found out later that she had just become pregnant and it was the first of her many obsessive cravings for the next 9 months.  She would mail order the chocolates once we got home and while the chocolate was from Twigg’s,  the boxes came from a company named Daria, LTD. in England.  So, in true eccentric fashion we named her Daria to rhyme with Caria.  Her nickname was Twiggy.
Our third child was named Maria. She was named to rhyme with the first two. If I ever had to corral all three at one time I would simply yell out ‘CaDaMa, It’s time to go!” or “CaDaMa, Clean your rooms NOW!” It made it easy.About a week later, I was back at the Post Office. I was returning yet another letter that was put in my box to Bettina. This one was a boring business letter and when I handed it to her I said, “You know, if you are going to put wrong envelopes in my box you could at least make them like the colorful one from a few weeks ago.”

Bettina exclaimed, “OH, guess what! That little girl, Melissa, came in just yesterday and gave me the most beautiful envelope to send. She had painted it herself. It was of a sunrise and she was SO proud of it. It was amazing.” I smiled and told Bettina about the watercolor lesson and Melissa’s foster father.

Bettina said, “Yea, I know Angus. He’s been around here forever. He comes across as a crotchety old geezer but he really is a kind man. His wife is even nicer. They have been taking in kids forever.”

“Maria really wants Melissa to come over to play, but I got the distinct feeling Angus wasn’t to hot on the idea.” I said.
“I bet if you talk to his wife she will allow it. Like I said, she is nicer than Angus. He tends to stay to himself and isn’t big on socializing. I am surprised you haven’t seen her before. She comes in every other day around 2:30. Come by then and see if you can catch her.” Bettina suggested.
The next day I was there at 2:30 and Bettina introduced me to Velma Billet. Actually, once I saw her face I realized I had opened the door for her a few times at the Post Office. She had stuck in my mind as having the look of the quintessential farm wife. She was thin on top in a tan work shirt, with a bit of roundness in her jeans below. Her face was tan and deeply lined, made more so by the big smile she always had on her face. She had a rich pony-tailed cascade of brilliant silver hair that fell all the way to her butt.

As we talked she told me all about Melissa’s further attempts at painting. She had gone through 25 envelopes before she finally had one painted the way she wanted. She said Melissa had talked non-stop that first day about learning so much and about the new friend she had made.
Velma loved the idea of Melissa having a playmate and agreed to have her come over later in the week. When I got home I told Maria that Melissa would be coming over on Sunday after church. Maria was beside herself with joy and set about planning their afternoon adventure.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 5

by | May 22, 2011 | Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 5

We worked for the whole 45 minutes on some watercolor basics. I focused the lesson on the colors and subject matter she was interested in, sunrises. She caught on quick, understanding about using less water, not more, sometimes allowing colors to dry before putting a new color on, sometimes letting them bleed together. We only used envelopes.

When we were done I called out to Maria, asking if she would take Melissa into the laundry room to teach her how to properly wash her brushes. Maria jumped from behind the wall separating the studio from the dining room and off they went.

Angus had been looking at his watch for a while and was relieved when the lesson was over. He pulled a check out from his overall pocket and handed it to me.

He said ‘”Melissa hasn’t been happy since her brother left so getting that letter was a big deal. She went crazy wanting to send something back. I hope she has gotten over it now.”

In the background I could hear laughing and giggling from the two girls.

“Do you think she will want another lesson?” I asked. “Even if she does, this is all she’s getting. I can’t afford any more”. He turned and called out loudly, “Melissa, come on, we’ve got to be going.”

Maria and Melissa ran around the corner laughing. Both of their shirts were soaked with water.

“Dad, can Melissa come over to play sometime?” Maria asked.

Angus quickly spoke up, “We have to go, Maria, get your things.”

“Well dad?”

“I don’t know Maria. It’s ok with me, but we will have to ask Mr. Billet here to see what he thinks.”

“Mr. Billet, can Melissa come over to play sometime?” Maria asked.

Angus stopped and stared at the far wall. He stood still. “I don’t know. I will have to talk to my wife about it.”

Melissa’s face lost its happiness as they said their goodbyes and went out the door.

After they left Maria was very excited. “Dad, you have to let her come over and play, she’s really fun.” She said.

I responded, “I think that is a great idea Maria, but it isn’t just up to me. We will have to see what her mother says.”

“Oh, that isn’t her mother or her father. She said they weren’t her grandparents either.”

“That’s weird. Are they foster parents?” I asked.

“What’s a foster parent?” she asked in return.

“It’s someone who takes in orphans, kids who have no parents.”

Maria said, “Well, maybe that’s what they are, I don’t know. She said she just moved in with them recently. Dad, you have to let her come over and play.” She said again.

“Ok, I will work on that. In the meanwhile, it’s time for you to feed the dogs.”

I went in my office and sat at the computer. I searched for ‘Angus Billet’.

Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 4

by | May 14, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 4

Maria never saw the old man; she was staring at the redheaded girl with a thousand freckles.  “Hi, come on in.  My name is Art and this is Maria.” I said as I held open the door.  The old man reached out his hand, “Hello.  I am Angus and this is Melissa.” His hand was coarse and strong.  “Melissa, say hello and shake their hands”.  Melissa, still with eyes wide and unblinking, reached to me, then Maria.  Maria smiled and said a simple “Hi”.  I said, “Actually, Melissa and I have already met.  She stole my watercolors at the quilt shop”.  She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips “I did not, I was there first!”  I laughed and said, “Yes, you are right.  You got there first, fair and square, and the watercolors were yours to buy.” She smiled and said, “I am glad I got there first but I am no good at watercolors”.

I escorted them into our kitchen, and asked them if they wanted some tea, both said yes.  As I poured the tea I said, “So, Melissa, I guess you want to learn how to use those watercolors?”  She responded, “Yes, I tried to use them but I made a big mess and ruined everything”.  “What did you ruin exactly?”  I asked.  “I ruined this.”  She pulled out an envelope from the little bag she had with her. There were some bits of color on the edges but for the most part it was it was grey, muddy and quite waterlogged. It was still damp.

“Well, the first thing we might do is let you use some better paper, that’s one of the reasons this didn’t work out so well.” I said.  “NO!” she exclaimed.  “I need to be able to paint on an envelope because I need to send it to someone.”  “Well, we will keep that in mind, but I still think you might learn more if we at least start on some better paper, is that ok?”  “NO! I want to learn on envelopes.” She squinted her eyes again.  “I know pretty paintings can be done on envelopes because of this one.”  She brought out another envelope. It was the one I had seen in my box the week before.

“Actually, not only have I met you before Melissa, but I have met this envelope before”.  “What does that mean?” Angus asked.  I didn’t think he had been paying attention. He had been looking out the kitchen window at our birdfeeder, watching the cardinals and the blackbirds fight for food.  “Well, I have Box 745 at the Post Office and they put this in my box instead of 845.  Of course I noticed how beautiful it was.  I remember thinking that Melissa, whoever she was, was a lucky girl to get such a beautiful letter.  Bettina at the post office really liked it too.  She said it was ‘love in the mail’.”

Angus didn’t show much of a response, but Melissa smiled wide. “It’s from my brother, he lives in Alabama”.  “Wow, that’s a long way away.  What’s he doing there?”  I asked.  Melissa was just about to say something when Angus stirred in his chair and said, “We should get on with the lesson.  I have to be back home in 45 minutes.”  Melissa shrank just a bit.  I took the hint to not ask any more and we went into the studio for her first lesson.  Angus went outside to smoke a cigarette. I could see him through the large north window of the studio. He stood motionless, head down, contemplating the smoke.

Melissa said, “I want to be able to paint a sunrise to send back to my brother. Can you teach me how to do that?”  Maria who had been by my side the whole time, still watching the redheaded girl, piped up, “He can teach anybody anything!”  Melissa looked at Maria and smiled.  “Good!” she said.  I turned to Maria, “Maria, can you go get some envelopes from my office?”




Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 3

by | May 8, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 3

By the time I arrived home it was time to feed my dogs. I have 2 dogs. One is named ‘Flat’. She got this name when we brought her home from the pound 3 years ago. My precocious youngest daughter, Maria, (which her mother insisted was to be pronounced“MAR e uh”) age 7, asked if it was a boy or a girl. When I said it was a girl she said with a snicker ‘Then where are its boobies?’ I said ‘girl dogs don’t have boobies that show unless they have babies.’ Her deadpan older sister, Daria, in middle school and growing unequally in her various body parts said, ‘In other words, she’s flat.’ The name stuck.

The other dog got its name in similar fashion. We found it roaming the streets in a rain storm. We brought it home and before I could dry it, it shook all it’s wetness off, all over me.  That same precocious daughter said ‘It likes to shower people!’  Its name is ‘Shower’.

After the dogs were satisfied, I noticed the little yellow light on my phone was blinking.  Getting a message was almost as rare as getting mail.  The voice on the other end was gravelly but clear.  The man speaking said he was interested in the art lessons I advertised.  He said his kid wanted to learn how to paint and he couldn’t afford the money or take the time to drive to the museum school in the city 30 miles away.  He asked if we could do lessons on Thursday afternoons as it was his only day off.

I called him back and we made plans for him to bring his ‘kid’ over.  He must have said ‘my kid’ about half a dozen times.  He had that type of voice that you imagined had at least 30 years of cigarette smoke behind it. Right before he hung up he said ‘Oh, the kid wants to learn watercolor stuff most of all. Do you even know how to do that type of art?’. I assured him I did.

Maria, asked if I really was going to give art lessons. I said, ‘Yes, why do you ask?’ She said, ‘Because you are REALLY going to have to clean your studio now!’ I was not looking forward to that.

By the time Thursday afternoon rolled around I had done a pretty good job of cleaning up. I had found 3 sets of watercolors I forgot I had, a broken electric pencil sharpener that I put on the large pile of things to fix on my garage work bench, an apron I had used when I was a waiter and, down in the back of the bottom drawer of my art dresser (where I was stuffing the apron) a very old card I had received from my unwife. Yes, I call her my unwife. She calls me her wasbund.

The card was a first anniversary card.  We had been living in a very small farmhouse in Michigan at the time, close to the graduate school I was attending.  It made me tear up to read how happy she was about our first year of marriage and how excited she was for our future. The painting on the front was of a sunrise.

As I wiped away my tears I heard a knock on the door. Maria ran to the front door first and opened it. Walking up I saw a grizzled old guy in a pair of bib overalls, a John Deere hat and boots with dry, caked-on mud. He had a face that matched the voice I had heard on the phone. And next to him, with eyes as big as an owls, was red headed Melissa.

© 2011 Marty Coleman




Sunday in Sunrise, Chapter 2

by | May 1, 2011 | Marty Coleman, Sunday in Sunrise - A short story | 0 comments

Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapters Ten & Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter 2

I rode from the Village Mart to Selma’s Quilt Shop.  I was riding a bike, not driving as I usually would. The bike is an old, I mean really old, derailleur type. I found it at a garage sale in the neighborhood I sometimes walk in. The lady selling it told me she couldn’t ride it anymore because a spider living under the seat bit her.  She said it was a nasty spider and the bite had left a nasty scar on her derriere.  Her husband had found a bunch of spider eggs underneath the seat confirming that that was the spider family abode. She said she was afraid to ride it now but it was a good bike. While I felt sorry for her derriere I was happy to get the bike for cheap.

I go to Selma’s because her store doubles as an art store. I get pencils, markers, watercolors and paper there.  Selma is funny and sassy. She wears very thick glasses and very low tops. Imagine a cross between a librarian and a burlesque dancer and you have Selma. She is another who ended up in Sunrise with no idea how she got here. Nobody else has figured out how she got here either.

I needed to check if my little advertisement on her cork board needed replacing.  It was one of those simple ones offering art lessons where you take the little tab at the bottom with the person’s name and number on it. I would get a call once in a while but usually not from people in my town but from the larger town a few miles away. The ad in that town I had to replace more often. The ad at Selma’s only had about 3 tabs ripped off, just one more than had been ripped off last time I came by a month ago.

I was also needing some new watercolors and she usually has a set sitting off in a corner waiting just for me to come in every couple months.  Today, however, the set wasn’t there. It was instead in the hands of a young girl waiting at the counter. She was perhaps 10 years old, maybe 11. All I could see was her shoulder length red hair, flopping down to pretty much obscure her face. The skin on her shoulders was a mottled mix of brown, red, white and tan, as if she had recently peeled from a sunburn. I got behind her and waited for Selma to return from helping a customer find American flag fabric.

I said to the little girl, “You know, you stole my watercolors”. She turned around with big eyes set in a round freckled face and said “Really? but I really need these today.” I said “Sorry, they are reserved exclusively for me and no one else is allowed to buy them.” The girl looked a bit scared but right then Selma returned and said  “Do NOT pay any attention to that man! He thinks he’s the only artist in town but now there is another one and he’ll just have to get used to it!” The girl caught on quick, realized the fun going on and said “That’s right, he will just have to get here before me next time!” I responded “Oh, next time I will be here at sunrise, you can bet on it!” She smiled and paid for the paints. As she skipped towards the door I said “Don’t use too much water with those watercolors”. I wasn’t sure if she heard me as the door closed and she went out of sight.

Selma looked at me sternly and spoke, “You scared the daylights out of her”. “She was ok, I was just about to let her off the hook and tell her I was joking when you came up.” I said. “Yea, well you better be nice to her, Melissa hasn’t had an easy life.” Selma responded. But she didn’t say any more.
I rode my bike back home. As I passed the house of the barking dogs I heard Selma say her name, Melissa. Maybe she is the Melissa of the beautiful sunrise envelope I thought as I speeded up.


© 2011 Marty Coleman