Untitled Short Story

Author's Note: I started writing this in February, I think. I ended up finishing it in April. And yes, I did say I wouldn't be posting any short stories, I thought I would finish this one. I don't plan on writing any more this month. So, enjoy this while you can.

I sat on my porch licking a grape Popsicle and letting it drip onto the wood. I watched the kids pass on their bikes. These were the little kids swerving and wobbling on princess or Spider man bikes. I felt my skin, drenched in sweat and red hot. For the middle of May, it was really hot. My skin had blistered and was peeling off, so I went inside.

“What happened to your face?” My mom screamed when I went back inside. I felt it again, flakes of it falling to the ground.

“I don’t know, don’t care,” I said sitting at the table where a juicy plate of watermelon was sitting. I squeezed the sweat out of my hair and took of my shirt. Then, still in my shorts, I turned on the water and soaked in a cool bath. I let the water drain, then took an actual shower with water that was a decent temperature. I shook the water from my hair and wrapped my body in a towel.

“Barbecue is ready!” My dad yelled from downstairs. I realized that my cousins had come over and we were having a barbecue. I rushed around my house, trying to find a clean pair of swim trunks. I finally found a pair of blue and green camo trunks and put them on. I rushed down stairs and saw that everyone was hanging around the pool. I could smell the barbecue roasting in my dad’s grill.

“Hey, you finally came,” my cousin, Jeanette said when I came to the backyard. I felt the soft grass smashed around my feet. I didn't feel that there was a place for me here. But it was almost sundown, and we were going to start roasting marshmallows soon after dinner. Then, I was hoping that I could get out my telescope and look at the stars.

My male cousins were playing some sort of ball game in the pool. I wouldn't know, I wasn’t much of a sports fanatic. My brother, who was their age was on a lawn chair alone. He was sitting and tanning, oblivious to everyone else around him.

“Kyle, why don’t you jump in the pool with your brother?” My mom coaxed. I shook my head and backed away. But my mom motioned to the pool and I finally jumped in. When my little cousins tried to dunk me under the water, I tried to squirm away. I finally started to wade around, not knowing what to do. 

"Kyle! Do you want to play volley ball in the front yard?" Jeanette yelled. She was holding the fence gate and a beach ball. 

"Sure," I said, climbing out of the pool. As my other cousins stepped out, I saw brother on his lawn chair. Then I coached my cousins as the pried Harry off his chair. 

"Get off," he said, trying to sit back down. 

"Come on, Harry," I said, almost ready to follow Jeanette to the front yard. But he plopped back down and turned away. 

When I got to the front, my dad had already set up the volley ball net. As we all bounced the ball back and forth, Jeanette stated to talk to me. 

"So, how's school going?" She asked.

"Good," I answered.

"How about college? What are your plans for that?"

"I got a scholarship to MIT."

"Are you going to take it?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" 

"Well," I started to say. But before I could finish my sentence, the beach ball hit Jeanette in the head. Though, it still went over the net. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jeanette said. "But, you are not. Is the scholarship a full academic scholarship?"

"It is a full academic scholarship. But, everyone in the family goes or went to CU, and I want to follow the tradition. And, Harry left a legacy there, and."

"Before you finish, lets go to the backyard and sit down. Then we can talk it over." I hit the ball back to one of my cousins and we walked back. We sat down on a bench and watched everyone in the backyard. 

"Kyle, you're a smart kid. You should follow your heart and choose the college that is best for you, not the family."

"But, Dad thinks I'm going to CU and even got a special bumper sticker and, I just want to be like Harry and leave a legacy there."
"Be like you," Jeanette said before spiking the ball at me. I crouched in fear and waited for the soft touch of the beach ball. "Come on." Jeanette called, offering me a hand. I got up and we walked to the back yard. Everyone had gotten out of the pool and were lined up at the grill.
By the time we got our food, everyone had almost finished. After eating the dinner, Mom brought out small glasses of ice cream. We all dove in and smothered our faces with ice cream, a family trait. Then, when we all finished, I approached Dad. I turned around and saw Jeanette giving me two thumbs up.
"Dad, I got a scholarship to MIT. I think I want to go." And so it began, the beginning of everything at the end of this story. 

Chapter 1 Birmingham Crayon Box

Chapter 1

Magnolia

"What's that racket?" Screeched a child in my class. It was the sound of screaming, like terror. And dogs barking. But then, there was music. It was the song, "We Shall Overcome". 

"Let us see!" Said another. Reluctantly, the teacher took us outside. 

"Stay close, we need to see what's going on," she said. I could see her palms were sweaty as the Alabama humidity clung to us. We walked down the street in a tightly knit mob, looking out for danger. The source of the noise was a bunch of kids. They were all over the streets, being bitten by dogs, sprayed with hoses, the big ones which were attached to fire hydrants, but most kept singing. They kept singing "We Shall Overcome". So I joined in.

"We're on to victory; we're on to victory, we're on to victory someday; oh, deep in my heart, I do believe, we're on to victory someday," I sang. The rest of the class started to sing. We clapped our hands. As the beat carried on, I still sang. I closed my eyes and walked. I walked over.

"Wait!" Shouted one of the kids in my class. She ran towards me, I could hear her words getting closer. Then the teacher screamed something. My class's singing had stopped. Then I was tackled by one of the dogs. I put my arms to the side and fell. Its teeth sunk into the skin of my abdomen, making me bleed a Marciano-cherry-red blood. I finally opened my eyes. I looked up.

"Stupid nigger," said the police officer holding on the police dog. Then the dog lunged for my face, but I put up my hands. The German Shepard took a piece from my arm, almost biting to the bone. I willed myself to get up, then stumbled towards my class. I kept crawling, watching the giant dogs gravitate towards me. I finally got close enough to my class for my teacher to race towards me and scoop me up. I don't remember much after that. 

"Did they wash it off, already?" Momma asked, making the wash sound like whoa-sh. 

"Yes," I answered.

"How'd you get home?" She asked, dabbing a wash cloth at the wound on my arm. 

"Sam took me," I said, my southern accent almost mimicking hers. Only, mine was much higher. Then she wrapped my arm with a bandage and went to cleaning my abdomen. She wrapped a bandage on that also. Then Momma tucked me into my bed and kissed my forehead.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"Fine," I told her. Though, I was bleeding and in much pain, I felt okay. 

"Call me if you need anything," instructed Momma. I nodded. Momma walked out of my room and went to do something in the kitchen, probably fixing dinner. Sam came in, next. 

Sam was my brother and he was 4 years older than me. He was 12, and in 7th grade, which means middle school. The middle school was right next to e elementary school. The school where Sam went was called Lakeview Middle School. During the day, I never saw Sam. But, we walked to school together.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“Yep,” I told him.

“I saw you out there. Why’d you walk out there? It was cool, just curious,” Sam responded.

“I believe in their cause. If I believe in something, I will stand up for it. Wouldn’t you?”

Sam

Magnolia’s question was troubling for me. I wasn’t sure that believing meant standing up for what you believe in. Then again, I wasn’t sure about the differences between faith and belief. On that note, I left Magnolia there. I had to think. But, more importantly, I had homework.

 “How’s Magnolia doing?” Questioned my mother when I came over to the kitchen table. Technically, it wasn’t a kitchen table, more of a in-between-living-room-and-kitchen table.

“She seems to be doing well,” I responded. From her response, she seemed fine. But, Magnolia was a fighter; mentally and physically. But, she was also not the type to share much information about herself with anyone. When she felt sad, hurt, or angry, you couldn’t tell. She always told you she was feeling alright.

“That’s good,” said my mother. After she got back to her gumbo making, I reached for my backpack and got out my Arithmetic homework. I finished that quickly, then started on my English.

After the teacher had been notified about the whole “shooting children with water while they sang” incident that Magnolia was involved in, she told us to write our experience with it. Of course, I wrote about how Magnolia’s experience affected me. I ended up going with this.

                The incident that occurred today affected me because my sister was involved. First, she was hurt. I watched my mother clean up her wounds and checked to see if she was okay. Second, I had to pick her up. I was excused from class to bring her home because our mother was at work. Last, her experience made me think about my beliefs. Since she stood up for what she believed in, I thought about whether or not I should stick up for the things I believe in. All in all, this whole chaos was very stressful because of the effect it had on my sister.

I shoved the paper that I had written the paragraph on in my backpack and went over to Momma.

“How’s gumbo coming?” I asked. I looked at the pieces of chicken of vegetable scattered on her cutting board and dumped in the pot of broth on the stove.

“Fine, darling,” she said, as she kept adding more ingredients into the boiling concoction. I looked around at our messy kitchen. There were boxes of everything, stray pieces of food, trash, and dirty dishes piled up all over. It made the working environment, at least for me, impossible. But, for Momma, it worked. She could put food on the table and she could do it in impeccable timing. As I saw the great functionality of Momma’s cooking, I left her alone. Soon enough, it was time for dinner. Momma put out the bowls and ladled soup into them. 3 ceramic bowls were spread out around the table for Momma to ladle into. I sat down first while Momma went to fetch Magnolia from her room. Momma sat down next. Then, Magnolia slowly arrived. Dinner was slow, but fabulous. Momma’s gumbo, as always, tasted great. I was glad to see that Magnolia was feeling better. That was all I wanted for her, a better state of health, rather than the one she had.

NaNo Summary

(Narrator from many points of view) Magnolia lives in Birmingham, Alabama in the early 60's. While Magnolia's mother works as a maid for a rich man in Hoover, Magnolia and her brother, Sam, go to school and observe racial bias and segregation in their home town.Though, it may effect them more, a young girl sees the wrong and steps in. Her name is Ella. But does Ella's surprising connection cause more trouble than expected? While the children struggle to get their act together, catastrophic events occur causing Magnolia, Sam, Ella, and many others in Alabama to take a stand. Unexpected allies are formed as, does Magnolia's mother form an extraordinary group, or a deadly weapon?

Announcement!

Hello! This is storyblogger77 coming to you on 4/8/2015. So, I haven't written anything in a while. I can't really explain my recent recluseness. Though, I can announce that I am participating in a writing event! (The nerdiest event, besides NerdCon)

I AM PARTICIPATING IN CAMP NANOWRIMO 2015!!!!!

So, there's my announcement. I will be posting the summary, then my first chapter. I want to get your reaction before I post more chapters.

Now, NaNo info. 

Word Goal: 30,000

Words Per Day: 1,000

Current Word Count: 7362

Novel Category: Historical Fiction

View: Varied 1st Person

That's the NaNo info, for you guys. I will be giving a daily update throughout the whole month on Wattpad, so you can see how I'm going on there. I am going to try to start doing Weekly Tips, again. But, I won't be posting short stories this month. I will, eventually. That's the monthly plan, for now. 

DFTBA!

Yours Truly,

storyblogger77