|It's Time (standard:romance, 1587 words)|
|Author: renaissance1||Added: Sep 16 2010||Views/Reads: 1282/642||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Indecision and crises.|
“What time is it? “ Ken rolls over on the narrow bed, and reaches for me. “ Eight”, I yell back from the bathroom. “Why are you up already? Come back to bed. “ “I am late. I have to get to the Children's Hospital” “ I can never figure you out. You are about to finish your thesis. Why are you volunteering now? After all, Harvard has offered you a job.” This was Ken's reaction to my volunteer position in the Children's Hospital in Boston. “That's why”, I snap back. A non-sequitor. He must have been up late, last night. He has to finish his dissertation. His dad is after him . According to his southern gentleman- dad,” it was bad enough to switch from Physics to Linguistics after two years of grad school, but now, my only son is dawdling.” Thankfully this time, he did not add, “and this foreign-student, girlfriend”, he always adds; His normal mantra, uttered in its different forms, each time he visited. I do help Ken with his thesis work, I thought. I help with those damn obscure translations. Why didn't anyone tell him that every word in Sanskrit has at least six meanings? But right now, I think I know exactly how his dad feels! “All that money to send my son to an ivy-league school . An he goes off to get an esoteric useless, degree.” I am annoyed too, right now. Why do I have to do everything according to his family's wishes? I have a mind. His family lording it over me is painful. Okay, I am sulking . I love him. I look out the tiny cracked window of the student apartments. A cold blast. These places are not meant for new England Winters. Outside the window of Ken's cramped Everett Street walk up, it is cloudy, gloomy and I can even “see” the cold. A late April snow fall is expected later in the day. It seems to have started already. It will be wonderful to get out of Cambridge, one way or the other, once and for all. “Come on, call in and say the weather is lousy and so you cannot come today. After all, you have an old car, it won't start. Come back to bed.” ”No Ken, I have to go. Remember, I told you that kid is very sick. He has a few months to live. He is going home next week once the chemo is done.” My pride gets the better of me. “ I have to go. Snowing outside already, so it must be warmer. The wind will be gone soon.” “You have become obsessed with that volunteer stuff. The kid's parents are rich .Come on Anna. I need you to finish the translation of that lone Sanskrit verse”. The one he is having trouble with. “Every word in that language has six meanings. You can provide your own variety of romantic repertoire. Do it yourself”. Anger. At what? At who? Then, I say with a little more control, “ I'll do it tomorrow, for sure.. It can wait a day, can't it.? I will switch my volunteer hours for tomorrow . I can stay and help you. He sits up on the bed ,” thank you ma'am.” Now, he is really angry. And for me, the volunteer work becomes more important than ever I dress and hurry out the door. *** ***************************************** My old Rambler parked on the street, starts right up. But there is a ticket on it. Oh well, I don't have to pay it. I'll be out of here in a couple of weeks. Out of Massachusetts. I chuckle to myself. Racing down on Huntington above speed limit. I realize that I am late. Janie , the volunteer coordinator, is waiting, her shift was over almost an hour ago. “Johnnie was asking for you. He has taken a liking to you”. She says, “ Strange don't you think?” She adds with an air of condescension. She never really liked me. I bet you, she thinks, after all what is this foreign student, about to return to her lavish home in Bangkok, doing here? Johnny may be dying.' No matter. I go back into the children's cancer Ward. Johnnie is reading, as always. My cheerful “Hi, Johnnie, how are you, it is going to snow later. Wonderful, no? “ I cheer lead. “No,I don't want any more snow. I want spring to come, come soon”. He says, not even looking up from his book. “After tomorrow, it will be spring. Did your mom come to visit?” “ Yeah, she did, and brought me the same lousy Tin-tin book she gave me for my last birthday. She doesn't even remember. Some day, I will write a Tin-tin. book” He is grumbling. But then, he cheers up. “What did you bring, today, Anna?” I am embarrassed. I brought nothing. “Oh, I just thought we should get a paper and pencil. You dictate a story and I will write it down”. Big smile. “Okay, let's do it. “ He is tired. He starts “Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Johnnie.” “Same old story?” I should have caught myself before those words came out. Too late. “No, this is the beginning of my own Tin-tin adventure story” .Johnnie “dictates “ to me for a few minutes. He falls asleep. I tell the volunteer coordinator that I must go, before the snow is heavy. My car does not have any snow tires. She says “ yeah, get home. You should rally get Click here to read the rest of this story (52 more lines)
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