Usually I have the hardest time shortening any of my stories to be less than 250 pages. However, after all of these creative writing classes I am learning to master the art of the short story.
This is a little tale about two ladies who share a name. And as Juliet once put it, "What's in a name?" Without further ado, here is a short story I wrote for one of my creative writing classes.
Eleanor
She
had kissed Cupid.
That
was one for the books… literally. I had gotten into the habit of lugging around
a large spiral notebook with me whenever I was cruelly forced to sit and listen
to my great aunt Eleanor’s jibber jabber. We stared at each other from across
the cold gray table. My eyes masked my intense pain of boredom, while hers
overflowed with enchantment. The sparkles in her chestnut eyes danced as she
rattled on about her teenage date with the God of Love. So lost was she in her
reverie of passion tipped arrows and pure fluffy wings, she didn’t take notice
that I had pulled out my notebook and was scribbling away. I added, “Fling with
Cupid” to my ever-growing list of aunt Eleanor’s lavish delusions. Over the
months I had stored up quite the collection of her insane rambles, planning to
show my mother just how crazy she actually was.
“He
kissed me with magic.” Aunt Eleanor’s airy voice floated over the table.
I
glanced up at her, taking in how she had her delicate blue veined hands clasped
together under her chin, “Yep.”
“That’s
why it felt like we were walking on air.” She breathed out a dream filled sigh,
her eyes searching the ceiling, as if she expected to see Cupid hovering near
by.
“Are
you sure you weren’t flying? The kid does have some wings, you know.” I rolled
my eyes, before plastering on my practiced fake smile, as she looked my way.
She
covered her mouth as she giggled like an eight year old, rather than an eighty
eight year old. “Well, our love did take us to new heights!”
I
slammed the notebook shut, “I bet.”
She
wheeled herself to my side giving me a good look at the vibrant fuchsia tutu
she had fashioned around her tiny waist. She thrust her shaky soft hand into my
curled up fists. “Ellie, have you ever been kissed with magic?”
I
blinked. “Nope. Can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure to kiss Harry Potter yet.”
I knotted my hands together, pushing away her small paw.
Her
shimmering eyes dulled, “Oh, how I pity you!”
I
blasted to my feet, my chair screeching along the drab charcoal floor, causing
random salt and pepper heads from around the visitor’s room to all glare at me.
“I have to go aunt Eleanor.”
She
wheeled by me, escorting me to the door. At the pace we were going I began to
wonder if my great aunt was part snail. I figured I could have pushed her to
rush things along, but what was the use of going out of my way. She let out
another breathy giggle. “Mercy me! Look at me go. I should enter a wheelchair
derby.” As we neared the door she puffed out, “Did I ever tell you about the
time I won the Indy 500?”
I
looked through the glass doors to the beautiful sight of my mother’s navy mini
van waiting at the curb for me. “Nope. Bye aunt Eleanor.” I turned on my heel
and raced through the door, pretending I didn’t hear her call after me,
“Goodbye my little darling! Say hello to your boyfriend Harry Potter for me!”
I
threw myself into the front seat, my lip falling into a pout. I yanked the
seatbelt down all the while grumbling under my breath. My mother chuckled, “I
take it you had a good time?”
I
pierced her with the dirtiest look I could muster, “I don’t understand why you
hate me.”
Her
sigh lasted until we pulled out of the parking lot. “Honey, I’m not in the mood
for your teenage angst. It really won’t hurt you to visit her once a week.
She’s your namesake!”
“And
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for naming me after a lady who thinks
she planted one on Cupid.” I tossed my feet up on the dashboard.
My
mother’s smile glistened, “Oh! Did she tell you that story? That was always one
of my favorites.”
“Mom! You shouldn’t give in to her
delusions!” I reached for my notebook.
“Oh,
Ellie stop it.” Her tone tightened around my name. “You’re making her sound like
she’s crazy.”
“That’s
exactly what she is.” I ripped open the notebook. “I know she’s your favorite
aunt but I think you need to come to grips that she belongs in a loony bin
rather than a nursing home.” I flipped to my list. “According to Eleanor, she
dined with royalty every night for ten years. She has a jar of stardust under
her bed. Oh, and we mustn’t forget that she claims she has a treasure so
beautiful, the world wouldn’t know what to do with it. Now, here’s my personal
favorite, once she held the sunrise in her hands.”
I
threw the notebook down showing my mother just how angsty I could be. She
pulled into our driveway, silence pouring out of her. After she came to a stop
she sat there running her hands over the steering wheel, as if it was going to
whisper to her the words she wanted to say. “Eleanor.” She exhaled my name.
“Don’t
call me that.”
Her
hands slid down into her lap. Her eyes sought out mine. I tried to avoid eye
contact but the quiet somber flickering in her face kept seeking my attention.
She blinked, “Eleanor, you just don’t understand her. You don’t.”
I
glanced down at my own knotted up hands lying in my lap. I licked my lips,
preparing to fire back with a usual cheeky response when my mother spoke, “I
wish you deserved your name.”
****************************
“Miss Ellie, I
don’t think it’s a good time for a visit.” My aunt’s nurse folded her hands
calmly.
I
crossed my arms, “Well, my mom already dropped me off.”
“Perhaps
you should give her a call.”
“Why?”
The
nurse eased into her own practiced smile, “So she can come back and pick you
up.”
“No.
I mean why isn’t it a goody day for a visit.”
The
rehearsed smile deepened, “Your aunt isn’t having an easy time of it today.”
Before
I could ask her any more questions I heard my aunt’s breezy voice thundering
out from the visitor’s room. I charged past the nurse heading straight for the
room. The nurse followed me, “Miss Ellie, I really don’t think she is up for
any visitors today.”
“Oh?
Is that why she’s in the “Leave Me
Alone” room?” My fake smile slid across my face as I glanced over my shoulder
at the nurse. I opened the door to the visitor’s room to the scene of my great
aunt surrounded by the crabby salt and pepper heads who she calls neighbors.
Her neon orange outfit stood out in contrast to the jaded blues and grays of
the crowd that circled her.
Tears
streamed down her face as she clutched in her petite arms, an oversized mason
jar. She hiccupped, “It is! I’m telling you the truth! Why can’t you see it?”
My
hand gripped the door handle, my knuckles turning white as a salt and pepper
man hit the side of my aunt’s wheelchair with his cherry wood cane, “Yeah.
That’s a jar of stardust. And I’m John F. Kennedy.”
Aunt
Eleanor bawled, “You’re not nearly handsome enough to be him!”
“At
least I’ve still got my sanity, unlike you!”
Aunt
Eleanor crumpled back into her chair. She caught sight of me, still standing
with the door open, and the dam of her tears completely broke free. “Ellie!
Ellie, tell them! They don’t believe me, Ellie!”
Every
head turned to look at me, sending me into full retreat mode. That is, until I
got a glimpse of the nurse standing behind me. She crossed her arms and a smirk
snaked over her face. With a weighty grumble I stepped into the room and forced
my way through the small cluster of canes, wobbly knees, and knobby elbows. I
pushed past the man who had hit aunt Eleanor’s wheelchair, “Excuse me, Mr.
President.”
Aunt
Eleanor reached out for me, dropping her precious jar in the process. Mr. President
moved faster than I thought his joints could allow, bending down to snatch up
the jar. “Oh, yes. Mighty fine stardust we have here.”
My
hand moved faster than my brain could process what I was doing. My hand snapped
out fast to grab at the jar I startled Mr. President so that his bony fingers
loosened up on the jar. “Your reflexes aren’t what they used to be, now are
they, JFK?” His lips formed into a snarl. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I do
believe you are all way past kindergarten, and should not be acting like kids
on a playground.” I raked my eyes over the huddle of grays and blues. “Now I
think all of you should think back to when your mothers taught you some
manners. If you can remember back that far.” I grabbed the jar and plopped it
down in a stunned aunt Eleanor’s lap. I wheeled her away to the corner window,
hidden from the peering eyes of her peers.
I
scooted a plastic chair close to her and sat beside her as she caressed her
stardust jar, muttering, “They didn’t see it Ellie. They just couldn’t see it.”
I reached out an awkward hand and patted her arm the way I imagined one would
pat the head of a grizzly bear.
She rubbed at her
swollen eyes. “Don’t you see it Ellie?” She lifted the jar to my face. I looked
from the jar, to her, back to the jar again. Instead of tiny little stars,
there were dozens upon dozens of pictures. She popped open the lid and
sprinkled the pictures down onto her lap, black and white photographs falling
like shooting stars. “Aren’t they all beautiful?” She looked at me, her brown
eyes now brimming with her normal enchanted expression.
The
feeblest of smiles stepped onto my face, “Yes.” I breathed.
She
picked up a faded photograph. She handed it over into my hands. I gingerly
touched the edges, taking in the sight of a light haired man sitting on the
hood of an old Ford. The way the sun fell though his hair, it almost gave him
an angelic halo. He was looking down at the photographer with the same look in
his eyes that haunted aunt Eleanor’s. “That’s your uncle George.”
I
handed the picture back to her. I watched as it floated down into her hand. “I
don’t remember him.”
“No.
No, you wouldn’t. He died long before you came along.” She returned the picture
to the jar. “We were only married for ten years. We were as poor as poor could
be. But every night as we sat across each other at the dinner table, we felt
like royalty. Being together was more important than all the money in the
world.”
She
picked up a faded envelope. She popped it over into my hold. “Do you fancy reading?”
She giggled.
I
bit back a smile as I opened up the envelope and pulled out an old letter. The
poetry of my great uncle’s marriage proposal was spelled out in delicate
calligraphy. Aunt Eleanor tugged the letter from my tight grasp. “It’s a
treasure isn’t it? That man knew how to kiss with magic.”
I
scooted in even closer, to gaze down at all the different photographs. “Why do
you have so many photos aunt Eleanor?”
She
ran her fingers over them. “People say that stars are the jewels of the sky.
These are my jewels.”
I
straightened up. I began to scoot away as if the photographs were blinding me.
Aunt Eleanor’s hand stopped me. I allowed her tiny hand to slip into my
clenched fist. I unraveled my fingers, as I felt the warmth of aunt Eleanor’s
palm against mine. She gave my hand a squeeze before pulling away, leaving a
small colored photograph in my hand. “This is one of my favorite stars.”
I
unfolded my palm. I recognized aunt Eleanor right away. She was sitting by a
hospital bed, with light streaming in through the window. In her arms she
cradled a newborn. My hand began to shake as I saw that the baby was me. Aunt
Eleanor spoke up, “You were born right before sunup. I was in the room with
your mother. She handed you over to me as the sun broke out. I looked down at
you and I knew I was holding the sunrise in my hands.”
Later
as I climbed into my mother’s van I had disappeared into a deep haze. When she
put a cool hand on my shoulder, I jumped. She laughed, “What’s going on with
you, Ellie?”
I
found my voice. “Don’t call me that.”
She
drew back her hand. “Why not?”
“My
name’s Eleanor.”
Enough rambling for now!
