Rose watched her daughter approach the other kids playing on the ball field while their older siblings were busy with track events nearby. She bit her nails, wishing she had some kind of monitoring device that would let her hear what they were saying. For a moment the other preschoolers looked at her daughter suspiciously.
Why suspicion? Alice is the sweetest little girl in the world! She’s polite, and adorable, and what kind of parents must these kids have that they would even hesitate the slightest when…
Her inner monologue halted abruptly when the other children smiled and handed Alice the end of the jump rope. Rose felt the winds of maternal defense dissipate right through her sails.
She could never tell how far was too far. The grassy, recently mowed field was a paradise to the small children. Other parents looked on, alternately straining their necks to watch the older kids in their track meet. It just seemed like too much freedom for such a little person. Alice might not be safe.
Rose still had nightmares about coming home from their weekend at the water park, just one night away, to find that her beloved Macaw had somehow got out of his cage, found the toilet, and drowned. She was still wracked with guilt. Had they really left the lid up? How did he escape the cage? Were they negligent? Her husband had been helpless to console her. “It’s terrible, but there’s nothing we could have done. He was too smart for his own good.”
Alice was smart. So very, incredibly bright. And she was far away. Rose judged it would probably take her at least forty-five seconds to run to her if anything happened. And if Alice suddenly got it into her head to run in the opposite direction, off around the building, or if a stranger, or a wolf…
Wolf? Really? Just how paranoid have I become?
Rose considered running around after her daughter, but at seven months pregnant, carrying twins, that was out of the question.
I could make her play over here in the shade, close to me…
The question remained in her mind for the next two hours. Alice obediently trotted over to her mother’s side every time Rose called, seven in all. Twice to go and cheer for her big sister’s race, once for an untied shoe, once when she noticed Alice probably had to pee, and three times for excuses so small they didn’t really mean anything other than to reassure Rose that her precious child was safe.
And she was safe. She wasn’t bubble wrapped, or leashed to her mother. But Rose had to believe, against all questioning, that Alice was safe.
This was written for the Write on Edge prompt about the Forbidden or Taboo. Well, actually, last week we were prompted to write about freedom, and for some reason all I could think about was how too much freedom can be a bad thing. I didn’t do that prompt. A friend had told me the story about the pet bird several weeks ago, and it broke my heart. Then yesterday, while my teenager was at her track meet, my 4yo played on the grassy field next to the track. I’m not pregnant like the mom in the story, but I wanted to emphasize that running around after the kid wasn’t an option.
I don’t think this little story embodies the “forbidden” prompt very well, but I think if you take both last week’s prompt of “freedom” and combine it with “forbidden” it’s just right.
The shortlink for this post is http://wp.me/p1rMYd-mh
I get it. A mother’s forbidden fears. The ones that creep in, making freedom a dangerous place.
I could feel her tension. Good job making me bite my own nails.
oh yes. it’s hard to let go of the reigns.
Is it sad that I laughed about the parrot in the toilet? Of all the ways a bird could commit suicide. I knew an iguana that committed suicide by running into a wall after staring at it unmoving for two hours. I still laugh at that. I’m such a bad humanbeing.
I love the scene. My concrit: “internal monologue” didn’t work for me. The reader should know already that these thoughts are internal from the font, so I think it’s unnecessary. Although, I don’t know what to suggest to replace it with. Thoughts aren’t strong enough. Fears, rant maybe? It could just be that I still need my morning java.
I can feel her fears though, the overwhelming need to protect her Alice from everything even though she knows she shouldn’t stifle her girl’s little freedoms. Nicely done!
I can look back on the death of my newts and laugh… kind of. Those critters were just too incredibly stupid to survive. They kept trying to get out of the tank, and when they did succeed, they died. The bird, however, I think really was tragic. Birds are smart, but like children, if they’re not supervised or locked up they can get into something that will hurt them. It certainly wasn’t suicide, it was a horrible accident.
You’re right about “internal monologue” being redundant or unnecessary. Hmmm…
It’s so hard to let them go, even if it is only 100 feet away. So many tragic possibilities.
I wouldn’t worry about “proper use” of the prompt. Sometimes, a word takes our mind in unexpected directions. We still arrived there because of the prompt. Then, I don’t make the rules, so you can do with my two cents what you will.
One of my better stories was written when I was *supposed* to be doing a memoir! I still shared via facebook and twitter with the #WOE hashtag, but I didn’t actually enter my link into the WOE blog.
This story was also 451 words instead of 450, but I think that’s within an acceptable margin lol! But if I go through and read someone else’s story, and it’s well over a thousand words, I do get a little miffed. I want to read and comment on many links, and that just means I’m taking up a lot of time reading just one post.
Enjoyed reading the piece! I couldn’t help feeling that something was going to jump out and eat Alice up. And I was worried! You conveyed the mother’s worry to the reader in a matter of sentences. Great writing!
Thanks! Although I don’t like memoir, I find that if I use little bits of reality in my fiction, it really does bring it to life. The other day I really was watching my 4yo try to make friends while her big sister was running in her track events. I really *did* feel like something might jump out and get her at any minute, even though there were no threats in sight, and dozens of other concerned parents all around.
I can see some of the “forbidden” in the every day details of this story…the child forbidden from straying too far, from NOT answering mom when mom called, mom being unable to voice her fears for fear of being seen as unreasonable. I like that these “forbidden” things are subtle and well described instead of told here. Nice job!