This is the last of my Kenyon Review Writers Workshop pieces. The exercise is called “Keep the Engine Running” because the requirements are to have 2 characters in a car, which stops 3 times for 5 minutes each time, and at each stop at least 1 of the characters must interact with another person. The engine must be on during the entire story. The characters must have a destination, but they cannot reach it. And, because all that isn’t crazy enough, my Kenyon “posse” and I decided to honor Michael Jackson (who had died the day we got this assignment) by including a reference to his music in each of our stories. I think mine is obvious, but can you spot it?

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Caroline stared in shock at the car that her best friend Greg had blown his entire summer earnings on. And “car” was too generous of a term. More like piece of shit on wheels. Caroline shook her head at the rusted bumper and peeling paint, but she didn’t want to hurt Greg’s feelings, so she kept her mouth shut.

He insisted on a quick trip to the diner on the far side of town. From his house it was only a twenty-minute drive. Even the old clunker could handle that.

They made it the first two miles without issue. Then, in front of the MacArthur place, they heard an extraordinary whump. Greg braked immediately.

“What the hell was that?”

He shrugged, and they both glanced into the rearview. There in the middle of the road sat a dingy metal bumper.

“I got it.” Chuckling, Greg pulled over and got out to retrieve the part. With the car still humming—well, choking really—beneath her, Caroline wondered if the bumper had the right idea. Jump ship while you still can.

“Oh, we’re okay!” Greg called out, and Caroline looked out her window to see who he was talking to. Leonard MacArthur had come out onto his porch and was gesturing angrily at them. Caroline couldn’t understand why, until she noticed the row of tulips that had been smashed into the ground.

“I don’t think he was too concerned about us,” she said when Greg returned. He had stowed the bumper in the trunk. “You could have pulled over up there.”

“I didn’t see the flowers, sorry.”

Of course not. There was a lot Greg didn’t see. But Caroline just sighed, and they continued into town.

They’d gone no more than a mile when they saw a shiny red truck coming from the other direction. Greg honked a friendly greeting, and the two vehicles slowed. When they were side by side, the truck’s driver leaned out the window.

“Nice ride, buddy!”

It was Trevor Criswell, their high school’s star quarterback.

“Thanks, man,” Greg said in his best impression of cool. He tried to rest his elbow on the thin lip of the rolled down window, but he slipped and caught his armpit instead. He winced as he pulled himself back into the car.

“Careful!” Caroline said.

At the sound of her voice, Trevor leaned down. When he saw her, he winked. She made a noise of disgust and turned away.

Trevor returned his attention to Greg. “So you gonna drive this beauty in the Homecoming parade?”

Caroline scowled when Greg’s face lit up.

“Hey, yeah! I hadn’t thought of that. It’s what, like a week away? Sure, yeah, I will!”

Trevor took another appraising look at the car, and then drove off laughing.

They went past the church, the post office, the inn, and the other church, before Caroline said anything.

“I don’t know why you talk to him.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“‘Cause he’s a jerk, that’s why.”

“Oh, you’re too hard on people,” Greg said, as if he was just the right amount of tough.

They paused at a red light before turning left. Trees arched over them from either side of the street, regal and picturesque. Or at least it would have been, if a dark cloud of smoke hadn’t been trailing them. Caroline saw it in the side view mirror.

“Let me out.”

“What?”

“Let me out,” she repeated.

Greg was so surprised that he simply obeyed. They stopped in front of the Parkers’ house, where Caroline used to babysit for their twins. As soon as Caroline placed her feet on the pavement, she felt better. But that didn’t stop her from slamming the door. Or kicking the tire. Or pounding her fists against the hood.

Greg watched her outburst with no discernible expression on his face. Just as Caroline expected. She went around the whole damn car, raining abuse upon its offensive mass, and Greg sat there. It wasn’t until Mr. Parker came down the front walkway that Caroline slumped against the trunk, her breath coming out in pants.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Mr. Parker demanded.

“Nothing,” Greg answered. Suddenly he was by her side. Greg smiled at Mr. Parker until he left. Then he put his hand on Caroline’s shoulder.

“Don’t stop ‘til you get enough,” he said. Then he went back to the driver’s side to wait.

This story was a result of perhaps the craziest writing prompt I have ever been given. First I selected 4 numbers at random which corresponded to these requirements: an aging athlete, a celebration/party, sometime in December, something embarrassing has just happened. THEN I was given a list of 20 required sentences: a sentence with light, a sentence with texture, a sentence with sound, a sentence with dialogue of 10 words or less, a sentence with an object smaller than a hand… etc. These had to appear in the story IN ORDER. Needless to say I thought Geeta, my Kenyon Review Writer Workshop instructor, was crazy for assigning us this Mad Libs-equse prompt. Then I wrote the story, and I rather liked it.

Warning: Not for kids. Due to awkward incident involving male & female private parts. Read at your own risk.

…

David Kozlov hurries out of the bathroom, fast as he can with the limp, and then assumes a casual stance against the far wall of the reception hall. Outside the fierce December air clamors to come in, but a large commercial fireplace insulates the wedding party and their guests. After so many years of hockey, David feels more at home in the ice and snow, but alas his duties lay here tonight.

He jumps at the sound of tinkling glass, looks up to see his son and new daughter-in-law kissing. His son waves, happy. David smiles back.

“And now, the father-daughter dance!”

At the deejay’s prompting, Sara Beth and her father walk to the center of the parquet floor. A spotlight searches them out, focuses in. They begin to move to the swell of violins, and everyone but David watches.

“Doesn’t she look beautiful tonight? Like a princess, and this is her fairytale.”

David nods, shifts his gaze to the floor. Sara Beth does look beautiful, but he cannot say so. Not after seeing her naked in the bathroom just a few minutes ago. Continue reading →

Note: This one’s a little longer than usual… I figured I owed you after such a long absence of new episodes!

[ Need to catch up? See a list of episodes or check out the recap! ]

Wearing a cute tennis skirt and wielding a racket, Sophie stands inside her apartment with one ear pressed to the front door. After a while, she glances at her watch. Ten minutes late and she hasn’t even left yet. Reggie’s going to kill her.

At last she hears footsteps in the hallway and breathes a sigh of relief. “Finally!”

The footsteps grow louder. They pause outside Sophie’s door. Then they start again, and fade away. There is the faint scrape of a key fitting into a lock. A door opens with a soft creak, and then closes with a loud one.

After another minute, Sophie unlocks her own door and steps out.

“You’re late.”

Sophie jumps. A short woman with an angry mop of hair is glaring at her. “Yes, actually, I am. So I’ll talk to you later, bye!”

The woman grabs her arm. “Nice try. Where’s your rent?”

“Eh heh… I thought I paid this month. No?”

“No. Not this month, not last month, and not the month before.” The landlady crosses her arms across her generous, bathrobe-covered bosom. “Which means that, if you don’t pay me in the next 15 days, I can — and will — evict you.” Her menacing smile reveals crooked teeth. “Got it?”

Sophie swallows. “Got it.”

Continue reading →

This series of postcard stories is a sequel of sorts to this set. The assignment was to choose 1 of the original 5 to extend into a longer story. The original postcard that served as my inspiration is pictured below.

Hi! Xing:

This is your Ahyi. Can you guess where am I? China? Taiwan? No! Florida. I have been missing China, so your uncle took me to the Chinese theme park for our anniversary. He also bought me new jade bracelet to replace the one he lost last month.

25 years together, can you believe? Don’t worry, someday you will find a good man too. In fact, I know you ask me not to help, but I was just thinking… What about your friend Michael? He seem like a good boy. And no one even remember that time at the pool anymore.

Brush your teeth!
Ahyi Lin

…

Xing xing:

I am happy to hear that Michael has found a nice girl. But don’t worry, many boys will want you for a wife. Just give me time to think of a match. Everyone knows: this my specialty. After all, my marriage is best in family.

Your uncle has been working very hard. Even after so many years at the factory, he still try to show the boss his value. Just like giving me bracelet. The jade is so beautiful, all solid bright green. This mean best quality. I just tell you so you know what to look for.

Anyway, we look forward to see you at family dim sum next week.

Sit up straight!
Ahyi Lin

…

Xing:

Sorry it has been so long since my last card. I have hard time thinking what to say…

Did you enjoy the dim sum? Your uncle was sorry he could not come. His back has been hurting him. I think he work too hard at the factory, every night coming home so late. But he won’t go doctor. He says is not a big deal, no need to waste the money. I worry that our trip and my bracelet cost too much. What you think?

Be good.
Ahyi Lin

…

Xing:

Aiya! No, I was not ashamed of you! But I am not knowing what to say about seeing you kiss your friend. I’m sure she’s very nice girl, but in the bathroom at the family dim sum? This is not good behavior.

Does your mother know? I will not tell her, but you cannot ask me to keep secret for so long.

Anyway, I am thinking to sell the jade bracelet and take your uncle to the doctor. Now his back hurt so bad that he cannot sleep in our bed. Sometime he get up in the middle of night, go for walk or something. Anyway, I thinking, this is silly. I need to fix.

Don’t sit too close to TV.
Ahyi Lin

…

Xing:

The pawn man say the jade was a fake. I hope you and Cynthia have better fortune than me.

Eat your vegetable.
Ahyi Lin

One of the first assignments in my Kenyon Review Writers Workshop class was to write “postcard stories.” Geeta (Kothari) assigned us 5 random postcards (from her personal collection!) and a certain phrase to incorporate into 1 of the stories. This is what I came up with.

Note: the 1st one fell TOTALLY flat. I mean, after I read it aloud, you could hear a pin drop, in a bad way. But, haha, that’s okay. I just wanted to try something different.

Joan,

Can you believe they sell this card in the gift shop? I guess it’s sort of funny… but why is there a gift shop in a loony bin anyway? It’s not exactly a teddy bear kind of place, you know. (Plus they wouldn’t let you keep a teddy bear. I think Martin once smuggled in pistachios that way. He’s a serial suicider too.)

Anyway, just wanted to let you know that the doc says I’m showing improvement. Well, he didn’t say it, but I saw him check off that box on my chart yesterday. Maybe I’ll see you guys at Thanksgiving after all?

Smooches, C

PS: Martin is allergic to nuts.

Hi! Xing:

This is your Ahyi. Can you guess where am I? China? Taiwan? No! Florida. Here they have a fake little China. Very funny. Your uncle bring me here for our anniversary. 25 years, can you believe? Don’t worry, someday you will find such good fortune too. Much better than Michael. He is chao pi dao dan. Besides, you are much more pretty than these girls. Just don’t wear glasses. Cheer up!

- Ahyi Lin

Dear Mom,

I am fine. Dad brought me to this park. He says it’s a vacaytion. We saw a fat squirrel. He gave me $1 for candy but I bought this card insted. The lady at the counter said she will mail it for me. I hope you get it OK. Dad says I shuldn’t talk to you, but I don’t think this counts. I miss you.

Love,
Eric

Dearest Marianne,

Worst. Trip. Ever!! Karl is a total diva, and he even sassed an exec during the pitch. There’s NO WAY we’re getting this account. And he knows he blew it.

So I better go console him with whiskey or something… See you on Friday? Till then, think of me in that slinky red number.

XOXO
Sylvia

Hey Natalie,

After a week of Basic, it’s clear: I shouldn’t be here. Tell Mom and Dad I’m coming home on Saturday. I’ll figure out some other way to pay for college.

Amelia