At our monthly Writing is Fun meetings we decide a prompt for writing for the next meeting. Length is set at 2 pages so we can read them at the meeting. There is quite a diversity of writing. Some are real life recollections, some fictional vignettes, and sometimes there's a poem.
The prompt for January 2023 was Winter. Here's what I wrote. A little true, a little not.
Snow Day– Carol Kagan
It was an overcast and gray afternoon in January when an announcement came over the classroom’s loudspeaker.
“The weather service is forecasting snow starting this
afternoon and continuing through the night and all day tomorrow with
significant accumulation. School will be closed tomorrow. We will assess the
situation for Friday so watch for announcements on TV.”
Happiness surrounded me throughout the classroom. The
teacher sat down and let the ping-ponging conversations bounce around the room.
“Kathy! Joyce! Let’s see if you can sleep over
tonight.”
“Hey, Bruce, don’t you have an extra sled? There
should be enough snow after lunch tomorrow to go sledding at the elementary
school.”
“Can you bring your Game of Life over?”
Who doesn’t love a snow day- a day off school?
Me.
As the 15-year-old primary caretaker of my brothers
and sisters – 8, 7, 6, and 5, the snow day would be a nightmare. We would be
imprisoned indoors in a small rental house while my mother was working – 8
hours of work and most likely 2 hours of commuting by bus.
There would be fighting, crying, toys and games strewn
about and refusals to clean up. And rejections of what I made for breakfast,
lunch, and dinner. The refrains would be the usual: “You’re not my mother.” “You can’t make me.”
“I’m going to tell mom when she gets home.” It wouldn’t be a good day for her
either.
I needed a plan if I were to make it out the other
side of the snow day.
This was post-Christmas and there were a few new games
that were played only once or twice. Okay, get these out. Only soap operas on
TV so nothing there. Reading stories. No, never worked to get them settled
down. Coloring books and crayons would need to be hunted up from the bottom of
the toy boxes or under the bed or behind the sofa. And I needed to hide
whatever weapons I could find – the yo-yo’s and paddle balls, for sure.
It was already snowing at a good rate when the school
bus dropped us off. I ran upstairs, threw my books and coat on my bed, and went
downstairs. The kids were still in their jackets and boots kneeling on the
sofa, curtains pushed back, and watching the snow falling thick and fast..
I called for them to hang up their coats and put the
school stuff on their beds. One head turned around and looked at me then went
back to looking outside.
I went to the phone and dialed WE 6-1212 to hear the
latest weather forecast.
“Today is January 8. Weather Information for Baltimore
and environs. Snow is expected this evening through the night and during the
day tomorrow. Accumulation will be between 10 to 14 inches. Roadways and
bridges may be impassable. Caution is advised. Temperatures will be in the low
30’s during the day and high 20’s at night.”
No reprieve there. Mom finally got home and after
dinner she told the kids they needed to behave and listen to me tomorrow. They
couldn’t go outside and needed to play together in the house.
“I’ll make a special dessert tomorrow night if you are
good during the day for Betty.”
After they were in bed for the night, I hunted up the
weapons, crayons and a few coloring books and got out the games.
Thursday morning nobody wants cereal. Three of four
want French toast and one wants scrambled eggs. I make scrambled eggs and Kyle,
the 7-year-old, pouts and refuses to eat. He pushes his plate away and knocks
his milk over. While I clean up and get the dishes into the sink they start
going through the games spread along the wall. Boxes are opened, game pieces
are scattered, arguing commences about who is going to play what. I move into
the living room.
“Let’s all sit down in a circle and put Hungry Hippos
in the middle,” I say. As I load the marbles into each of the four hippo
stations, it begins.
Jenna immediately says, “I want to be the orange one.”
“No, I want the orange one,” Gina proclaims. “You can
have the green one.”
Kyle announces, “I’m the oldest and I’m taking the
green one.”
“You are not the oldest! Betty is the oldest. Jenna
can take the green one.”
“Then I’ll take the yellow one.”
“If I can’t have the orange one,” Jenna says, “I want
the yellow one.”
“Okay, I’ll take the green one. It’s the one I wanted anyway.”
Gina leans in and growls, “You can’t have it just
because you want it. Jenna can have it.”
“Jenna doesn’t want it. She wants yellow. I’m taking
green.”
Georgie, the youngest, scoots around the circle until he is in front
of the blue one. Then the others figure out where they need to sit. It becomes
obvious that sitting in front of the hippo’s lever isn’t a good position. They
need to lay down on their stomachs and stretch out on the floor. I tell Georgie
he gets to release the first marble.
“Why does he get to go first?” Gina wants to know.
“Because he didn’t argue about what color he would
get. Once the marble is caught then Jenna gets to release one. Then you, then Kyle.
Then keep going. When all the marbles are caught, call me and we can count up
who has the most.”
“We can do that,” Kyle declares. “We know how to
count.”
“I’m not letting him count mine,” Gina huffs.
“I didn’t say I would count yours or everybody’s. I
just said we can count and she doesn’t need to do it.”
It was 8:15 a.m., the beginning of the longest day of
the year so far.
When mom came home at 6:30, before she got the door
closed and her headscarf off, she heard the complaints starting. She looked
over at me and mouthed the words “I’m so sorry.”
I took the grocery bag she brought home and herded the
kids into the living room to watch the Flintstones on TV, then warmed up her
dinner while she changed clothes.
In the bag there was some condensed milk and
chocolate syrup. I knew we would get her special dessert no matter what. Snow
ice cream with chocolate drizzle.
* * * * *
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