October 2023 Flash Lit 11 - Buckle Up

“I hope you’ve got your hair well fastened on?” he continued, as they set off.  Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 8

 

 

 

Helena had no idea what possessed her to say yes.  She shot a glance over at Bobby.  His hair was shellacked in place, but one side of his collar had rucked up.  There was no time to fix it.

 

Ms. Wayne, the vice-principal, tapped the microphone.  “Is this on?”  Naturally, there was feedback and everyone in the gym covered their ears.  Ms. Wayne frowned.  Or her habitual frown deepened:  she was always frowning.  “Students may continue to dance until they are tapped on the shoulder by one of the judges.  If you are tapped, you must leave the dancefloor immediately.”

 

Helena popped her gum.  Bobby squeezed her hand nervously.  Helena’s friend Alex nudged her from her other side and whispered, “Wanna get tapped on the dancefloor?”

 

Helena shook with laughter, but managed not to make sound.  Alex had already leaned into Ken, her boyfriend.  Helena saw the very tip of Alex’s tongue touch his earlobe.

 

Ms. Wayne was still talking.  “…no lewd motions.  We want good clean fun.”

 

“Like hell we do,” Alex muttered.

 

“And go!” Ms. Wayne said.

 

The deejay started the dance mix and everyone surged into motion.  “Just like we practiced,” Bobby said.

 

Helena’s skirt swirled around her as Bobby twirled her.  The dress had been a major thrift shop score.  The vintage pleats reacted to every movement.  Bobby pulled her in close for a dip and Helena had a momentary view of the mirrored ball rotating high above her.

 

Space opened around them as Ms. Wayne and her minions eliminated couples.  Alex looked radiant and determined as the competition thinned.  Soon it was just Alex and Ken, Helena and Bobby.

 

“We can do it,” Bobby hissed in Helena’s ear.

 

“I don’t know…” she whispered back, but it was too late.  He was already starting to do the lift.

 

Helena felt his hands slip on the slick fabric of her bodice.  Then she fell, light glinting on her rhinestone buttons, on her silver charm bracelet, on the buckle of her character shoe.

 

Automatically, she pointed her toe and posed as if this was all the way it should be.

 

Alex and Ken won the trophy.

October 2023 Flash Lit 10 - Go Big or Go Home

“Who cares for you?” said Alice, (she had grown to her full size by this time.) “You’re nothing but a pack of cards!” Alice in Wonderland, Chapter 12

 

 

 

“How many do you want?” Vi asked.  “They’re a dollar apiece.” 

 

She tapped a foot in a perfectly white shoe with laces striped red and white, school colors.  Al thought they looked like candy canes.  Did they make shoelaces in flavors?  He was getting distracted.

 

“Helloooooo…” Vi said.  “Simple question:  how many?”

 

Al fidgeted.  He didn’t know.  How many would make Rina happy?  He imagined a graph with number of carnations on the X axis and Rina’s happiness on the Y axis.  The line climbed toward the right, up and up and up.  He wondered why the infinity sign was curved when the infinite line of Rina’s happiness stretched up in one direction forever.  Distracted again.

 

“Doofus:  how much money do you have?” Vi asked.  She fervently hoped no one was noticing how long she was spending talking to this bundle of clothes with untidy hair.  She automatically checked that her ponytail was smooth.

 

Startled, Al checked his pockets.  “Um… a hundred bucks.”

 

“Then send a hundred and be done,” she said.  Not like he was going to do it or anything.  Vi doubted he had even one person to send a carnation to.

 

“OK,” he said.  He held out the bill, still crisp from his birthday card from his grandma.

 

Vi refused to react.  She said, “Thank you.”  Then she counted out a hundred of the little cards.  “Write whatever you want on the front and put the name of the person you’re sending to on the back and their third period class.  That’s where the flowers get delivered.

 

Al panicked.  He’d have to say something on the cards?  What could he possibly say?  But he couldn’t just send blank cards.

 

Vi had had enough.  “Just fill them out and turn them in to the box in the office by Friday.  Flowers get delivered the next Friday before the homecoming dance.”  She hurried away to join the rest of the cheerleading squad, telling them all about how weird Al was while swigging diet Coke.

 

Al, for his part, took the cards to the library and spread them out on the table.  He did the easy part first, writing Rina’s name, Geometry, Mr. Norton on the back of each one.  Then he wrote on the front of the first card:  “Dear Rina, this is what I like about you:  1. Your smile.”

 

Number 2 was the way she smiled when someone said something funny.  Number 58 was the smell of her hair.  Number 92 was the way she pronounced the word pickle, like it was sharp in her mouth.  On the last card, he wrote:  “100. Everything.  From:  Al.”

 

He put the sheaf of cards in the box wrapped in heart paper in the office.

 

The next Friday, Rina, her arms overflowing with carnations, stopped by his desk on the way out of geometry.  “Wow,” she said.

October 2023 Flash Lit 9 - Slow and Steady

“All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone. Alice in Wonderland, chapter 6

 

 

 

Cathy thought that her tombstone, to represent the sum of her life accurately, would have to read, “If I had known how hard it was going to be, I would not have tried.”  That wasn’t quite right.  Maybe “I should have known better.”  That was pithier, at least.  Maybe a little funny.  In a wry sort of way.

 

But first this hill would have to kill her.  Her lungs seemed to think it might.  Her legs, stubbornly pumping the pedals of her bike, screamed that they’d be happy to help kill her if they could just stop doing what they were doing for a minute or two.

 

Cathy bargained with herself:  pedal just 200 more times, and then you can have a rest.  Her hips replied with something unprintable and she lost count.  Okay, then, 200 from now.

 

Pring-pring.  A bike bell chirped cheerily behind her.  “On your left!” The rider, a girl in bright pink everything, zoomed past her.  Damn kids, Cathy thought. 

 

And then the girl called back, “You’re almost there!”

 

Damn encouraging kids, Cathy amended.

 

Except it worked.  Cathy watched the girl’s defined calves work and her own kept going.  She woke up to the smell of the eucalyptus all around her and heard the drip of condensed fog falling from the redwood trees.  The pavement whispered under her tires.

 

Pink Girl disappeared around a bend like the memory of a smile.

 

Cathy kept pedaling.

 

Three more twists to the road and she was there, at the top of the hill.  Cathy inched her way into the parking lot where hikers left their cars, threaded her bike through the bollards that restricted traffic to the bathrooms, and dismounted.  She leaned her bike against the building and panted.  When she had enough breath, she drank plastic-tasting water from her squeeze bottle.

 

Two miles down, twenty four to go.

 

But now Cathy knew she’d make it.

October 2023 Flash Lit 7 - In a Rush

They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared; but she ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself safe in a thick wood. Alice in Wonderland, Chapter 4

 

 

 

Cammi rocked back on her heels and surveyed her work.  She wouldn’t be able to assemble the pieces until the spray paint dried, but it looked like it was all going to come together beautifully.

 

Her sister Issy poked her head into the garage.  “Could you be any nerdier?” she said.

 

Cammi didn’t hear over the radio, sang along, “The words of the profits were written on the studio walls…”

 

Issy strode over to the boom box and twisted the volume knob, exasperated.  “Nerd:  Mom says it’s almost dinner time and you need to clean up your mess.”

 

As Cammi began to collect the empty spray paint cans into the trash bin, Issy poked at the shiny black cardboard.  “What even is this?”

 

“My costume,” Cammi said.  “For the spirit day thing on Halloween.”  Sometimes Issy was pretty seriously dim.

 

“And you’re going as a black box?” Issy said.  “I hope there’s a mask so no one knows you’re related to me.”

 

Cammi ignored the insult.  They were just such different species, her sister and herself.  “I’m going as a trilobite.”

 

“That’s that Star Trek thing, isn’t it?  I thought it was fuzzy?” Issy said, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder.

 

“Tribble,” Cammi corrected, automatically.  “They’re not real.  Trilobites were actual organisms around 5 million years ago, give or take.”

 

“I give up,” Issy said.  “Dinner.”

 

Cammi put the straight edge and the box cutter back in the toolbox and dutifully washed her hands before eating lasagne and salad with her family.  They talked about whatever it was they talked about, but Cammi was busy in her head, assembling the cardboard segments into a whole carapace.  She rushed through doing the dishes and got back to the project.

 

In the morning, it turned out that trilobites were ill-adapted to riding in cars.  Cammi had to remove the cardboard shell and ride to school in her black sweats and t-shirt.  Issy, dressed in a shark onesie to match the school mascot, rolled her eyes.

 

In fact, Cammi spent most of the morning carrying the bulky cardboard because she couldn’t sit in class with it on.  When lunch finally came, she hastily slid it over her back and hurried to the gym for the rally.

 

Students crowded the doorway and Cammi found herself stuck amid pirates, monsters, fairies, and a whole explosion’s worth of other costumes.  She tripped and fell and her shell proved no match for the rush of kids.

 

I am extinct, Cammi thought, as her carapace broke in pieces over her.

October 2023 Flash Lit 6 - Easy Does It

 “You mean you can’t take less,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to take more than nothing.”  Alice in Wonderland, Chapter 7

 

 

 

Maddie looked at Zee.  “You don’t mean it,” she said.

 

Zee held out his arms, palms up, like a theatrical shrug.  The spiders in the corners, the only audience besides Maddie, were unimpressed.  “I do.”

 

“None of it,” she said.

 

“I don’t want a thing,” he insisted.  “You couldn’t pay me to take it.”

 

Maddie looked at the packed shelves, the slightly crushed cardboard boxes, the plastic bins overflowing with who knew what.  “Not even those pots?” she said, pointing at the stack of cookware.  “Those are better than what you have.”

 

“See,” Zee said.  “Your problem is that you are looking at the details.”

 

“My problem is that you are dumping all this on me.  She was your grandma, too,” Maddie said.

 

“If you want to spend six or seven or ten hours sorting through all of this, you do it.  You’ll probably find a few things that are useful.  Most of it won’t be useful.  You’ll be tired and dirty and sore.  Then you’ll have to find a place for whatever you decide to take,” Zee explained.

 

He gestured at the chaos.  “If we just assume that there is nothing here more valuable than our time, we can skip the sorting and go straight to dumpster.”

 

Maddie protested, “But Gran loved all this stuff!  She’d want us to have it.”

 

Zee picked up a chipped teapot.  “She did not love all of it.  She shoved it out here because she was old and tired and didn’t like making decisions.  She loved us.  She wouldn’t want us to waste a lovely day in this mess.”  He carried the teapot over to the trash bin, opened the lid, and grinned as it crashed to the bottom.

 

“You’re terrible,” Maddie said, tears welling in her eyes.

 

“Maybe,” he said.  “But I’m also right.”

 

“I can’t do it,” she said.

 

“Then you’re on your own,” he said.  “Let me know when you want me to call the dumpster people.”  Zee strolled down the driveway, got into his Bondo-and-rust VW, and putt-putted down the street.

 

Maddie turned back to the garage.  “I can’t believe Zee did that,” she muttered to herself as she tipped a load of dusty magazines into the recycling bin.

October 2023 Flash Lit 6 - All at Once

The next witness was the Duchess’s cook. She carried the pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began sneezing all at once. Alice in Wonderland, Chapter 11

 

 

 

 

Pepper accidentally slammed the car door behind her.  She didn’t look back because she wasn’t sure whether it would be better to see her mom looking mad that she slammed the door or fake-encouraging, like it wasn’t going to be yet another horrible day.  Instead, she slung her backpack over one shoulder and trudged into the high school hallway.  It was early enough that the hall was nearly deserted, so Pepper hurried to get to her locker.

 

Shit.  Not early enough.  Cookie and her cheer squad were gathered by Cookie’s locker, just down the row from Pepper’s.  A flurry of sneezes erupted from the group, followed by peals of shrill giggles.  “Too much Pepper!” one of them cackled and pretended to sneeze uncontrollably.

 

It’s not like Cookie is such a fabulous name, Pepper thought.  She rested her head against the cold beige metal of her locker door while she dialed her combination with shaking fingers.  If only she could keep from crying.

 

She couldn’t.  And Cookie saw.  “Oh, did you get some Pepper in your eyes?” she said, pretending to be sympathetic.

 

Pepper’s parents and her therapist all said she should just ignore Cookie and her cronies, let the taunts roll off her, sail above them, whatever metaphor worked.  All at once, Pepper decided that was bullshit.  Slowly, she set down her backpack.  She turned toward Cookie in her red-piped white pleated skirt and matching sleeveless top with the red bear applique and the script Central High School, hating the white ribbon floating over Cookie’s ponytail and the red laces in her white tennies and her red tongue behind her white teeth.

 

“No,” Pepper said.  “But you got some in yours.”  The punch landed squarely in Cookie’s eye socket.

 

The other girls screamed and clustered around Cookie.  Pepper picked up her backpack, shut her locker door, and went to the office to turn herself in.

 

Totally worth it, she thought.

October 2023 Flash Lit 5 - Happy Trails

 “And as for you,” she went on, turning fiercely upon the Red Queen, whom she considered as the cause of all the mischief—but the Queen was no longer at her side—she had suddenly dwindled down to the size of a little doll, and was now on the table, merrily running round and round after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her. Through the Looking Glass, chapter 9

 

 

 

Rosa was last.  She was always last.  She knew this was because she was the smallest, except for Tug, but Tug was a dog with twice as many legs, so of course he could go faster.

 

Rosa didn’t mind being last, actually.  She stopped when she felt like looking at the reddening leaves of the poison oak—she knew better than to touch it—or when a big black ant crossed the path carrying a crumb of something or when the sun beamed down through the canopy of leaves like some kind of magic spotlight.  She would never get lost, not with the path so plainly under her feet and the sound of the others up ahead.

 

Mama didn’t understand that.  She would stop at a bend in the path, her head turning forward to keep Bianca and Tug in view and then back to find Rosa in the shadows.  “Come on, Rosa!” she called.  “They’re getting away!”

 

Good, Rosa thought.  She loved Bianca and Tug, but they were both noisy and busy.  They went fast, chasing after balls or prizes or adventures or something.  Rosa wasn’t interested.  Besides, there was a little hole in the trunk of a tree that looked just like the kind of place a fairy would have a doorway.  Rosa brushed the moss on the bark with a finger and imagined herself small enough to go inside.

 

“Rosa!” Mama called again.  “Stop dillydallying!  And Bianca, slow down!”

 

“I’m not dillydalling,” Rosa said, but she did walk a little faster.  She didn’t want Mama to worry.

 

When Rosa caught up to the others, Bianca was perched on an obligingly arched tree limb eating a granola bar.  “Lichen is scratchy,” she said, with her mouth full, poking at the lemony green strands next to her.

 

“Yes, it is,” Mama agreed.

 

“Moss isn’t,” Rosa said.  “It’s soft, like Tug’s ears.”

 

Tug barked at the sound of his name.

 

“Let’s keep going,” Mama said.  “We’ll call for pizza when we get home.”

 

Happy, Rosa trailed behind all the way to the car.

October 2023 Flash Lit 4 - Whatever Works

“When I make a word do a lot of work like that,” said Humpty Dumpty, “I always pay it extra.” Through the Looking Glass, chapter 6

 

 

 

 

Humphrey harumphed.  “Damn kid, lying around all day.”

 

Lorena poured him another cup of coffee and brushed away the crumbs from his toast.  She washed up the plates and the frying pan.  The sun shone through the cherry-patterned white curtains over the sink and turned the droplets of soapy water into iridescent gems on her wrinkled hands.  She dried them away and folded the towel neatly before hanging it on the handle of the dishwasher.

 

“I mean, why can’t he work a regular job?” Humphrey persisted.

 

Even though she knew better, Lorena said, “Lou works nights, remember?  They pay him extra to work that shift.”

 

Humphrey’s grumble didn’t coalesce into actual words, but the way he shook out the newspaper expressed his irritation.

 

“I’ll get your meds,” Lorena said.  She opened the cabinet by the sink.  The pills for the day nestled in their compartment marked with a W.  Lorena popped it open and shook them into her palm.  “Hold out your hand,” she said.

 

“Just put them down on the table,” he said.  “I’m not a child.”

 

Lorena sighed and gently took his hand.  She remembered when it had been straight and strong.  The thought of his hands when he was young made her almost blush, thinking about what he used to do with them.  But now the palm couldn’t lie flat and the fingers pointed in improbable directions, like they were in a constant argument about which way to go.  “You know you can’t pick them up again if I set them there.”

 

He glared, but accepted the pills.  He swallowed them with coffee.  As he put the mug down, he lost control of it and it dropped the last inch onto the table, sloshing liquid over the checked tablecloth and the sports page.

 

Lorena pretended not to notice the tears of frustration in Humphrey’s eyes.  She just dabbed up the coffee and gave him a kiss on top of his head.  “I’ll get on with my work now.”

 

She bustled out purposefully and shut the kitchen door behind her.  Then she let her shoulders slump.  He was getting worse.  But she’d have to make it work, somehow.  She collected her cleaning supplies from the laundry room and dusted and wiped and polished and swept.  The rhythm of the work soothed her so much that she forgot about Lou and started the vacuum.

 

His tousled head poked out of his room, “You ok, Gran?”

 

“Oh, Lou, I forgot!” she said.  “You go back to sleep.”

 

“It’s fine,” he said.  Lorena thought he probably actually meant it.  He was a nice boy and helped her with all kinds of things. 

 

“I’ll just go check on Gramps,” he said.  “And swipe some coffee.”

 

Once she was done vacuuming, Lorena went back to the kitchen.  Lou and Humphrey had their heads together, working the crossword puzzle.  They both looked happy.

 

Whatever works, she thought.

October 2023 Flash Lit 3 - Chill Out

     "Are you sure you are not chilly, Master Colin?" she inquired.

"No," was the answer. "I am breathing long breaths of fresh air. It makes you strong…"  The Secret Garden

 

 

Lynn battled her way out of the tangle of blankets.  Dreaming about rapists and monsters and drowning and, worst of all, sitcoms was not restful.  Colin mumbled in his sleep.  The blankets Lynn had left swirled around him like he was a bed maelstrom.  She tried not to feel resentful, which was easier after she had brushed and flossed her teeth to get the imaginary salt water taste out of her mouth.

 

Her eyes in the mirror looked only half-open.  She rubbed a little cold water on them to loosen the sleep crumbs from her lashes.  She sighed.  There was so much to do and she had so little energy to do it.

 

She thanked Past Lynn when she found her sweatpants and her other exercise clothes ready on the chair by the bed.  Even so, the chant of “I don’t want to go” repeated in her head the whole time she was adjusting her socks and tying her laces. 

 

When she stood up, her spine cracked in four places, so loud that she thought it might disturb Colin.  Wryly, she noticed that the release of tension made her aware of all the rest of the tension not yet released.  She eased her way out of the bedroom, trying to keep her rubber soles from squeaking on the floor.

 

Past Lynn had also left out a water bottle the night before.  Present Lynn added ice and water to it and screwed down the top.  She slid her keys into one pocket of her pants and her ID into the other.

 

At last, she opened the door.  It was a pink and gray morning outside, the sun tinging the edges of the clouds gold.  Lynn took a deep breath of the cold air and knew that summer was done at last.

 

She walked briskly for a few minutes and then picked up the pace, her muscles whining like toddlers until they realized they were having a good time moving.  The rhythm of her feet on the pavement, the ritual lifting of the water bottle to salute other early morning runners, the force field that made cars swing wide around her all helped her to calm down.  She saw a murmuration of birds take flight from an elm tree, a fat raccoon waddling behind some trash cans, and one happy yellow lab bounding around her person.

 

When she got home, Colin was in the kitchen.  He held out a mug of coffee to her.

 

“You’re chilly,” he said, touching her hand.

 

“Just chilled out,” she answered.

October 2023 Flash Lit 2 - Full Steam Ahead

This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, “Well! They were both very unpleasant characters—” Here she checked herself in some alarm, at hearing something that sounded to her like the puffing of a large steam-engine in the wood near them, though she feared it was more likely to be a wild beast. “Are there any lions or tigers about here?” she asked timidly.

    “It’s only the Red King snoring,” said Tweedledee.

Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 4

 

Peace, the spa director, considered herself to be unflappable.  It was a survival skill honed by years of “home schooling” at the hands of members of her parents’ commune followed by regular American high school, where she did not exactly fit in with her hand-knitted linen sweaters and her tofu and sprout sandwiches on homegrown whole wheat bread.  Marlee, however, might just manage to flap her.

 

Peace took two deep breaths while gazing at the wall-sized photograph of ancient redwoods behind Marlee’s head before accepting the two-inch binder Marlee held out to her in her perfectly manicured hand.

 

“There is an overview of the sections at the beginning, on the sage green paper,” Marlee said.  “You’ll see that I’ve covered my nutritional needs, my exercise expectations, and my projected sleep schedule.  The large section, on the butter yellow paper, contains my questions and concerns.”

 

Peace nodded, flipping pages and reading, here and there, questions about the ionization of the air in the treatment rooms, the science regarding the pros and cons of Swedish massage versus deep-tissue modalities, the certifications of the meditation instructors, and the provenance of the organic vegetables.  Her peripheral vision, or maybe her trained sensitivity to auras, picked up the tension radiating from Marlee’s body in nearly visible orange waves. 

 

Marlee continued, “It is important to me to maximize my time here.  My doctor, who is normally extremely level-headed, practically insisted that I take a spa week to see if I could reduce my stress.  I had to rearrange a whole slate of clients and a board meeting to be here, so…” Marlee’s voice trailed off.

 

Fine, Peace thought.  We’re going to take the brutal-but-effective route.  “Steam,” she said.  “We’ll start with a session in the steam room, which will both begin the relaxation process in your muscles for the massage and open your pores for your facial.”  Peace closed the binder.  “Would you like me to recycle this for you or would you like it back?”

 

Marlee gasped.

 

“I’ll recycle it then.  The deep breath you just took should be working to lower your cortisol levels even as we speak,” Peace said.  She stood up, cupped a hand under Marlee’s elbow and led her to the locker room to trade her black sheath and heels for a terry wrap and plastic spa shoes.  Full steam ahead, she thought.

October 2023 Flash Lit 1 - One Step at a Time

“I hope it encouraged him,” she said, as she turned to run down the hill: “and now for the last brook, and to be a Queen! How grand it sounds!” A very few steps brought her to the edge of the brook. “The Eighth Square at last!” she cried as she bounded across… Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 8

 

 

Carl frowned at the paper.  He ran a wrinkled hand across its surface, trying to smooth out its creases.  It didn’t make the picture any clearer.  He blew out a breath and the little plastic bag that held the jumble of fasteners flinched away across the counter.

 

Why didn’t the damn instructions have any words?  And why the hell were all the parts so small?  Carl took off his glasses and rubbed them on the tail of his shammy shirt, which just smeared the dirt around.  He snorted and yanked open the kitchen drawer—there had to be a glasses cloth in there along with the rubber bands, the odd screws, the take-out menus, the leftover plastic bits of something, and one of Alice’s old lipsticks.  The lipstick made him pause.  He touched the plastic tube gently and maybe it was his imagination, but he smelled her lemony clean skin.

 

Right.  Glasses cloth.  There it was, snagged on half a brick of staples.  Carl extracted it and polished his lenses.

 

Determined now, he turned back to the directions.  “One step at a time,” he said to himself.  He’d never been very patient. 

 

It took at least an hour, but at last he was able to toss the allen wrench into the drawer, the shredded baggies into the trash, and the cardboard packaging into the recycling bin.  The table was just the right size.  He carried it from the kitchen to the living room and placed it between the armchairs by the window.  Carl liked how the light slanted across the squares on the tabletop.

 

Then he fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone.  It took him a few tries to unlock it and to remember how to make a call.  Ridiculous that making a phone call was the hardest part of using the damn phone.  He stabbed at the numbers on the screen and waited.  Voicemail.  “Hi Daniel.  It’s Gramps.  I got a new table for the chess set.  Maybe you can come play tomorrow?  Call me back.”  Carl recited his own phone number, but before he finished, the phone was ringing.

 

Carl swore as he tried to figure out how to hang up one call and answer the incoming one, so the first thing Daniel heard was him saying “Goddamn stupid ass phone!”

 

Carl heard Daniel’s laugh, the same intonation as Alice’s.  “Hi Gramps!  What’s up?”

 

“I just left you a voicemail,” Carl said.

 

“Yeah, but it was easier just to call you back.”

 

“I got a table for the chess set.  Can you come play tomorrow?  We can get a pizza.”  Carl didn’t know if pizza was as motivational now that Daniel wasn’t seven anymore, but it couldn’t hurt.  He held his breath, waiting for the answer.

 

“Sure, Gramps,” Daniel said.  “This time I’m going to beat you.”

 

“Big words, kid,” Carl said, smiling.

 

“See you tomorrow.”

 

Carl plopped into one of the chairs, leaned back, and fell asleep thinking of opening moves.