Fiction in Works - "Casting Seeds"

Casting Seeds

Viola was in love! It was Reed Bishop, Viola’s childhood sweetheart, and such a rich, darling boy. Viola should have never let him go in the first place. What a mistake that was, but mistakes can be corrected. Oh, life was filled with such twists and turns! It was hard to resist the urge to knock on every door in Haven Court and spread the news. It was like winning the lottery! No more Haven Court for her baby girl! Damn Viola! Why hadn’t she called to tell her? It wasn’t right for her mother to hear about her daughter’s love life through the grapevine.

Nothing could spoil the wonderful news she received earlier today when Bonnie Bellows, who had returned from her weekly beauty salon appointment, interrupted her morning gardening. A visit from Bonnie wasn’t something she’d welcomed at any time of the day, much less when she was gardening. Pearline was digging a row along the fence to plant snapdragon and wildflower seeds. “I don’t have time for gossip right now,” Pearline said when she hear the bell ring on the gate as it swung open and Bonnie came rushing in.

“Oh, you got time for this, Pearline,” Bonnie said. “I was at Eda’s getting my hair done. You know sitting under the dryer reading Star, and I just happen to glance up to say something to Eda, and who do I see but your Viola.”

“What is so newsworthy about that, Bonnie? You see her all the time,” Pearline said as she placed the pots of snapdragon seedlings next to each hole.

Bonnie sat down on the bench next to the garden shed and leaned toward Pearline. “She was with one of the Bishop boys. I do believe it was that Reed boy she used to date back in high school,” she said. “They stopped right in front of Eda’s shop window and kissed! No friendly peck either. I got up as fast as I could, but by the time I got over to the door, they were hurrying across the street toward the court house. Well, I didn’t see if they went in because Eda was hurrying me back to the dryer. You don’t think they were getting a marriage license, do you? Eda says she saw them twice come out of St. Joseph’s church where the Bishops attend.”

“Now what business is that of yours and Eda’s, Bonnie?” Pearline asked as she smoothed out the dirt around the snapdragon seedlings now planted. Inside, she was grinning from ear to ear. They’d bloom in time for a mid-summer bridal party for Viola in the garden.

“Oh come now, Pearline, did you know they were dating?” Bonnie asked.
It was more of an accusation than a question. Pearline sighed, “Again, none of your business.” She stabbed her spade into the ground and dug in deep. “If you don’t mind, I have some work left to do before lunch time.” She wasn’t about to tell miss busy body she wasn’t Viola’s confidant.

Bonnie made no move to leave. “I thought you’d be interested that I saw Viola with Reed.” She tapped her French manicured nails on her purse. “Now come on, spill the beans.”

“I’m not telling you anything, Bonnie. You might as well go on and tell somebody else your interesting news.” Pearline said and continued her planting. In all the years she had known Bonnie, she never disliked her more than at this moment.

“Well, Pearline, I was only stopping by for a friendly chat, but see you’re not in the mood,” Bonnie said as she stood up and dusted the back of her skirt. “I’ll just be on my way and come back later when you’re not so busy.”

“I will be busy all day, Bonnie, but thank you for the offer,” Pearline said as she placed a snapdragon seedling into the ground and carefully smoothed over the dirt.

After she heard the bell ring as the gate closed, Pearline gathered her tools and walked over to the faucet next to the shed to rinse them. When Viola was a baby, Pearline had brought her out to the garden on the first day of spring and sat on the swing with her under the Willow tree and said, “This where you will learn to walk, dig, and make things grow. This is where you will grow from a girl into a young woman. And, then have your first kiss from a boy you will marry someday.” From the very beginning of Viola’s life, Pearline knew exactly the way things should unfold to guarantee her baby girl’s happiness. Reed was Viola’s first steady boyfriend, and Viola just floated on air when he was around. Pearline had watched from the kitchen window just year ago and saw Viola turning her head from side to side, laughing, as Reed tried to kiss her. Then, he finally reached out, held her head still, and planted on her lips. Pearline, embarrassed, looked away and went back to washing her dishes.

Pearline smiled as she opened the shed door and walked inside to put the tools away. She could hardly wait for Viola to come home that evening. Lately, she thought Viola looked lighter and walked with her head up a little more than moping around the house like she’d seem to do for the last year after breaking it off with Reed. Now the girl had come to her senses. Here in the shed one night, she’d heard them arguing loudly. She’d walked out to call them inside when she heard them. A lover’s spat. It wasn’t her business, so she went back inside and fell asleep watching TV, waiting for Viola to come inside. After that night, Reed stopped coming over and Viola just moped around the house. No matter how much Pearline pushed, Viola refused to talk about anything related to Reed. Thank goodness, the girl had finally come to her senses, Pearline sighed happily as she closed the shed door and walked back toward the house.

Pearline took her lunch – a boiled egg, a slice of tomato, and sweet tea - out to the front porch and stared out over the trailer park. Now Viola would have things mothers dreamed of for their daughters. Viola would have lunch with the Gardenia Ladies at the Havenville Garden Club, and of course, there would be summer bar-b-ques at the Bishop’s lake house overlooking Shiner Lake. Pearline, as Viola’s mother, would certainly be invited. She sliced her egg carefully down the middle and scooped up a bite. Yes, marrying Reed would make all those things happen.

Pearline had known from the moment the good-looking, red-haired boy with the Robert Redford smile and charm arrived at her doorstep with flowers and candy for Viola on her seventeenth birthday last February fourteenth. “I’m Reed Bishop, mam’m. I’m here for Viola. That is if you don’t mind?” Pearline did not need any introduction. She knew who the Bishops were. They ran the only high dollar furniture shop in town. She had seen pictures of the Bishop’s boys Reed and Dyer in the Havenville New’s society pages several times. In the pictures, they were always at a black-tie event holding a pretty debutante’s arm. She could not believe that one of Claudia Bishop’s boys was standing on her doorstep asking her permission to take her daughter out on a date.

No boy had ever asked her permission. Most just pulled up in their cars and honked their horns until Viola came out. When they returned always a little pass Viola’s curfew, they sat in the car in the front of the trailer blasting loud music – thumping music until Pearline came out on the porch and called Viola in. When Reed brought Viola home, they sat on the front porch and talked quietly until after midnight and then, he would respectfully leave. Sometimes, they’d sat on the swing in the garden, always heads close together like they were guarding a secret. Viola had always been close-mouthed about Reed. Whenever Pearline made a comment,

Viola always put her off when it came to discussing boys. Not wanting to meddle like a Bonnie Bellows, Pearline watched them from a distance.
Pearline took a bite of her tomato and stared out at the rows of trailers and imagined them falling over like dominoes as she marched right into them waving a flag of triumph. Viola was marrying a Bishop! Soon, she would be visiting with Viola on the veranda of one of the Riverview Park homes instead of eating lunch by herself on the front porch staring into her neighbor’s backyard.
The women in Haven Court did not know the difference between a periwinkle and a weed. They spent their days shelling out what little money they had for knick knacks they didn’t need from the home shopping network. They held weekly spa days on the front porch giving each other manicures while they smoked and sipped on strawberry daiquiris. Pearline did not care to socialize with them, and when she did, it was only to bring some kind of order to Haven Court. She used monthly barbeques to air grievances and sent out hand-written invitations on pink stationary in their mailboxes threatening eviction if did not clean up the broken toys, old tires, and others odds and ends left from one end of the court to the other. Once there had been flower and vegetable gardens in at least a few of the lots; now the court was almost unrecognizable to her. When younger, more reckless people started moving in earlier, some of the older more respectable residents moved on. A few retired to Florida; some took smaller apartments in town close to the hospital.

Across from her, one of the few old-timers left, Addie Coot was arguing with her daughter, Crystal on the back steps of their trailer. “What are you two carrying on about?” Pearline called to them.

“Girl smoked my last cigarette!” Addie yelled as she pushed Crystal aside and walked down the steps toward Pearline. “Bonnie paid me a visit a little while ago,” she said as she grabbed hold of the Pearline’s porch rail and pulled herself up to sit down on the top step, breathing heavily, she took a moment to catch her breath and said, “She reported that you were ornery today.”

“I’m sure a lot more people will know that before the end of the day,” Pearline said as she placed a napkin over her food.

Addie clapped her hands together. “So some news!”
“It’s not news to me. Viola told me weeks ago,” Pearline lied and smiled broadly.

She settled back into her chair and took a long sip of her tea.

Addie gasped. “I didn’t think you’d be happy about Viola seeing Dyer Bishop. I thought it was that Reed boy you were so fond of.”

“She is seeing Reed again,” Pearline corrected her.

“No, I do believe Bonnie said it was Dyer,” Addie said.

“Not Dyer, Addie. Why on earth would Viola be with Reed’s brother?”

“Well, Crystal was standing right there when Bonnie said his name,” Addie said.

She cupped her hands across her mouth and yelled, “Crystal, get over here. Crystal!”

Crystal, stretched back on a lounge chair, stood up and adjusted her bikini bottoms and sauntered across her yard toward the porch. She stopped half-way, put her hands on her hip and yelled, “What do you want now?”

“Who did Bonnie say she saw Viola with?” Addie yelled back.

“How do I know? I didn’t pay her no mind,” Crystal yelled back and then, turned to return lounger.

“I know better than Bonnie Bellows who Viola is dating,” Pearline said as she stood up from her chair and picked up her plate. “I’m taking this in before the flies have at it.”

“Well, I’m sure you do, Pearline. I guess I better get on then and take my nap before the night shift,” Addie stood up and stretched her hands forward and shook them. “I don’t know how many more years of changing bedpans I have in me. My feet just kill me all the time.” She sighed as eased her heavy frame down the steps holding on to the rail. Then, she stopped and turned back toward Pearline and said, “Lord knows, my Shelly had a thing for Dyer for years. But, you know that Dyer Bishop never gave Shelly a second look. As pretty as my Shelley is, guess she was not good enough for him. From the looks of it, Crystal is not faring much better with her dates. Yep, I do hope things work out for your Viola. Must be like a dream come true for you.”

Pearline just smiled and turned to open her front door. While girls like Crystal and Shelly lived on wheels of impossible dreams and dashed hopes, Pearline could see Viola’s future shining brightly.

Viola came home late that evening. Pearline, in her robe, was sitting at the kitchen table going through pictures she had hidden in a shoebox under her bed for the last year. Once they had been on the fridge in plastic magnetic frames until Viola ripped them off the fridge one day and threw them in the trash. Now, Viola would be happy that Pearline had saved them. She was looking for the picture she took of Reed and Viola in the garden when they first started dating. She remembered the picture well – Viola leaning her head against Reed’s shoulder, his head bent over hers, kissing her on the forehead. As Viola came in the front door, Pearline asked

“Viola, where’s that picture of you and Reed sitting on the porch swing?”

“Mama, I thought I got rid of those pictures” Viola said as she sat down across from her and reached for the box, but Pearline took the box and put it safely in her lap. “Those are not yours to keep.”

“I didn’t throw them away, so you wouldn’t regret it later. I knew you two would get back together,” Pearline said, smiling triumphantly. She held up a picture of Viola and Reed standing by Reed’s new BMW Mr. Bishop bought him for his high school graduation. Both Reed and Viola were beaming. “See how happy you two are?”

Viola leaned over the table and snatched the picture from Pearline’s hand. She glanced at it and tossed it back across the table. “He demolished that car six months later.”

Pearline gasped. “Oh, my goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He’s fine, Mama.” she said, folding her arms on the table and laying her head down across them. “I’m so tired. One of the waitresses called in sick, and I had double the tables to wait on. Then, my boss was in a spit-fire mood today. Just complained and complained. I nearly quit today.” She leaned up and stood up to leave.

“Well, why don’t you just quit?” Pearline said.

“That’s the first time you ever told me quit anything, Mama.” Viola laughed.

“What’s got into you today?”

“You tell me,” Pearline said, folding her arms across her chest.

“Mamma, I’m too tired for guessing games. I’m going to bed.” Viola stood up from the table and turned to leave the kitchen.

Pearline followed her down the hall to her bedroom. “That is all you got to say to me?”

“Yes. Nothing but a typical day, Mama,” Viola said as she unzipped her uniform, stepped out of it, and threw it over a chair in the corner. Then, she sat down on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes.

“Viola, please, don’t keep secrets from me,” Pearline said as she sat down on the bed next to Viola. “Now I know something very special happened today.”

Viola leaned her head against Pearline’s shoulder. “Oh, Mama,” she sighed.
“So, when were you going to tell me about you and Reed?” Pearline asked and took Viola’s hand. She thought for sure she would see an engagement ring.

Viola jerked her head up. “Reed? Why are you asking about him?”

“Bonnie saw you today, and ….”

“With Dyer, right?” Viola interrupted. “What did Miss Busy Body say?”

“You were with Dyer?” Pearline’s mouth dropped open. Her heart sank into her chest, thumping wildly. “I thought you were with Reed!”

“No, it was Dyer. He’s in town visiting his parents and just wanted to see me.”
Pearline said and stood over Viola. “I’m ashamed of you, Viola. He’s at least ten years older than you, and from what I hear, already twice-divorced”

“Mama, you got the wrong idea about Dyer.”

“Well, if he’s someone Shelly Coot wants, I don’t like him,” Pearline said. “That

Bonnie gets everything wrong. I just knew she was speaking of Reed.”

“Well, it wasn’t, so drop it please, Mama,” Viola said and crawled under the sheets.

“Are you seeing Dyer again?”

“Maybe. I don’t know how long he is town.”

Pearline kissed Viola on top of the head. “Well, when you see him, ask him about Reed, Viola. Ask him how he is doing. It’ll get back to Reed, and he’ll ask about you, and then –“

“No, Mama. I don’t want to know how Reed is doing. It’s over between us. You really need to just accept it and move on” Viola said as she pulled the covers tighter over her head. “Please shut the light off and let me sleep”

Pearline turned out the light, and said, “You still love that boy, Viola. I see it in your eyes.”

Pearline went outside to the garden shed and got her pruning shears. She sat down on the bench facing her garden, staring at her plants, and feeling anger pour through her veins. She wanted to cut down every flower she’d planted that day. They were all mocking her, especially the tulips she imagined in a vase in the center of a table prepared with finger foods and champagne punch for the engagement party she planned for Viola.

Viola came outside and sat down next to her. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Mama,” she said softly.

“I’m just a foolish woman.”

“Why would you say that, Mama?”

“I always thought you and Reed would get back together,” Pearline said, looking over at Viola. “That Dyer made Reed leave you. I saw the way he pushed Reed out of the gate one night last spring. I don’t know why he was coming over so late, but I was checking on you and Reed because I hadn’t seen the two of you all night. You didn’t do nothing but sat there crying instead of making him stop.”

“You don’t know everything, Mama,” Viola said, her voice sounded far away.

“I know what I saw, Viola. Dyer was always coming around after that. He was much too old for you. But you wouldn’t listen to me!” Pearline’s anger startled
Viola who stood up quickly to leave but as she rose up, she nearly fell over.

Pearline grabbed her to steady her. “What’s wrong? You sick?”

“You think you got it all figured out, Mama. I guess it’s my fault for not telling you when it happened,” Viola said pulling away from her.

“When what happened, Viola?”

Viola nodded toward the shed. “Something bad happened here one night.”

“What did Dyer do to you?” Pearline asked as she picked up her garden shears.

“I’ll kill him if he hurt you.”

“It wasn’t Dyer,” Viola said. “He tried to tell me that I shouldn’t be alone with Reed.” Her eyes darted around the yard, looking everywhere but at Pearline. “There was a bar-be-que that night. I think at the Miller’s or the Harvey’s. I don’t remember, but Reed came over that night. We were out here. I hear everyone laughing, but the music was so loud, they couldn’t hear me. We were supposed to be at the bar-b-que, but Reed wanted to come back here to drink a little whiskey. A little later, I was feeling tipsy and kind of sick to my stomach, so I wanted to go inside to lie down for a few minutes. Then, Reed asked me to come into the shed. He wanted to show me something. He said it was a surprise for my birthday that was coming up soon, so I unlocked the shed and we went inside.” She looked at the ground as she continued to talk. “When we got inside, his hands were all over me. He kept saying he loved me but I kept pushing him away. I wasn’t ready. But he kept pressuring me.”

“Reed?” Pearline gasped. “Are you sure? You can’t even remember who was having the bar-b-que, Viola. You were drinking, too.”

Viola looked up and glared at Pearline. “I know who was in the shed with me that night, Mama.” Then, she looked away, down at her hands, which were shaking. “I heard you leaving the trailer. The backdoor slammed and you called my name. Reed was kissing me so hard, I could not scream out. Then, he pushed me down to the floor. I could feel the wood pushing into my back. I kept trying to scream, but he covered my mouth. I could still hear you calling my name. I tried, Mama. I tried to make him stop.”

“Oh Viola, I’m so sorry!” Pearline gathered Viola into her arms.

“I wanted to tell you. I really did.” Viola learned her head into Pearline’s shoulder and cried.

“Oh, baby. I thought he loved you. I had it wrong all the time,” Pearline whispered.

“Dyer told me to tell you,” Viola said looking up at Pearline. “He said I should have pressed charges, but I thought if I didn’t talk about it, it would go away like a bad dream.”

“I would’ve helped you, Viola, “Pearline said. “We can have him arrested now. It’s only been a year. A crime is still a crime.”

“There is no evidence. It’s my word against his, Mama,” Viola said sitting back up. “It’s over. Anyway, from what I hear the Bishops sent him away after it happened. That’s why Dyer came to get him that night you saw him push Reed out the gate. Reed passed out in the shed, and I called Dyer. He said his parents sent Reed away after that night to keep him from going to jail. But, I wasn’t going to press charges. I just wanted him to leave me alone. I still do. I want to stop picturing him in my mind. I just want it to all go away.”

“Then, I know what we must do now,” Pearline said, standing up. “Wait here.”
Pearline went into the shed and brought out a box of old newspapers and sat them on the ground next to the shed. Then, she went back in the shed and bought out a can of kerosene. She started balling up papers and spread them around the shed. Viola stood back, hugging her arms to her chest, watching as Pearline doused the newspapers with kerosene. Then, she handed Viola a box of matches. “Burn it down, Baby.”

Viola stared at the matches and then, at the shed. “But what about your garden tools?”

“Burn it down, Viola. It’s no longer of use to me,” Pearline said firmly.

Viola begin to light one match after another dropping them over the kerosene doused balled papers around the shed. As the building went up into a orange blaze, they stood next to each other watching the flames dance up toward the night sky and over the fence like fire flies swarming the court.

Pearline hugged Viola to her and looked away from the fire to the snapdragons she had planted that morning. She would plant more snapdragons and lots of violets. It would be a thing of beauty again.

No Excuses

From Writers' Mouths: 
“You can’t say, I won’t write today because that excuse will extend into several days, then several months, then you are not a writer anymore, just someone who dreams about being a writer” ~ Dorothy C. Fontana (American scriptwriter and story editor) 

  

And how was the writing life this week?

I resisted writing even though I committed to 15 minutes twice a day. Yes, in the mornings, I did the recommended 15 minutes, and I tried to write most afternoons and evenings, but usually failed in that attempt. Again, I was side-swiped or chose to entertain distractions or "serenity stealers" (a term used by Milkin in her book, 12 Secrets of Highly Creative Women).

My distractions mainly come from the computer, so I freed myself from some Facebook applications/notifications, Email newsletters/group discussions, and changed the settings on my Email to forward remaining groups/newsletters to replies to folders to read later (once a week). 

I also cut back on my teaching schedule to give myself at least six months or so to work on revising my novel. Putting writing first over earning money now is hard, but after trying to teach a full load and write for the last 13 years, I have learned that one can easily take precedence over the other, and so far, the writing has tread far behind.

My writing life calls for a gentler and slower pace. I have everything I need right now. A place to write, tools to write, and a world of interesting subjects just out my back door. 

Really all a writer needs is time, a pen and some paper. 

Next Week:  When Writers Go Fishing

Recommended Reading:

On Becoming a Writer by Dorothea Brande

Writing the Natural Way by Gabriele Lusser Rico

Becoming a Writer: Writing Everyday

I have been writing a long time; however, I have never had a set schedule. I wrote when I felt like it, but this was getting me nowhere. Then, I read Dorothy Brande’s book, On Becoming A Writer. Brande recommends putting a pen and tablet next to your bed, and upon awakening, write fifteen minutes. This morning writing, she says, should be stream of consciousness writing – write about anything. She calls this “harnessing the unconsciousness.” Brande also instructs the writer to schedule another part of the day to write for fifteen minutes again, but at a different hour each day. Why? The unconscious, she warns, “prefers to choose its own occasions and emerges as it likes.” The point is to write every day no matter what , and to teach yourself to write at any given moment.. The muse is a bewildering creature, but if I show up every day to write, she visits more frequently and more powerfully. At some point, the writing will become more fluent; however, until it does, Brande insists on “early morning writing and writing by prearrangement.”


Besides writing every day, the muse must be fed. I love Ray Bradbury’s essay on the muse, “ How to Keep and Feed the Muse.” The muse, he says, is fed by our experiences –what “we stuff ourselves with.” I stuff myself with poetry, essays, stories, plays, movies, music, art, long walks, fishing, traveling, photography – anything I love. The muse is a creature which craves experiences, and as Bradbury says, “Nothing is ever lost.”. At some point, what you have stuffed yourself with will be used later. Bradbury urges the writer to be hungry for experiences.


So, now I am going to eat some poems and keep my writing appointment.