I wrote this for my Intermediate Creative Writing course at UW. The assignment was to take an article and write a scene relating to it. The article was about a lady sueing the Mayor saying he was the father of her adult son and that she wanted the back child support.
I now present to you "The Cabal" written January 16, 2001.
The Cabal
The image on the small television flickered as Kim tried to get the makeshift coat-hanger-TV-antenna into place.
"Stop there! No, a little more to the right . . . Good!" came the instructions from the dirty-blond haired woman who was sitting on the dirty brown couch. Grace was her name and how unfitting a name it was. Her hair was matted and closer to dread locks than the golden locks they use to be. Wrinkles lined her eyes and brow, displaying her age to anyone who dared look. Her once long, finely shaped fingernails now nibbled, yellow-streaked stubs. Her nightshirt displayed the words "little princess."
Kim stood back to look at the little black and white picture on the television. "A little fuzzy, but it'll do," he said as he moved over to the couch to sit next to his mother. "Todd!" Kim yelled, not bothering to look away from the television.
His younger brother stuck his balding head through the curtain that divided the living room from the kitchen in their little trailer. "Whatcha want?"
"The news is startin'. Get your pesky butt in here," came the reply from his not-so-nice older brother. Todd ducked back into the kitchen to grab a bag of chips off the counter. "Todd, get out here!"
"I'm comin'. I'm comin'. Hold your horses," he said as he pushed his way through the curtain again. He made sure not to walk to close too his brother as he moved to the other side of the living room, in case he lost his closely clutched bag of chips. Thirty-eight years of experience had taught him that much at least.
They all watched as the reporter on the television went through the highlights of the hour. The first was on a woman who was suing a very rich business man with the claim that he fathered her children and she needed the back child support payments with a couple of million dollars in interest. Grace smirked at that. Next was the results of the recent election for mayor. Grace hoped that the always so cheerful, Mr. Goody-two-shoes, Mel Lastman would get pummeled by that lady who wore the fancy red dress. Grace couldn't remember her name, but she didn't care just as long as Lastman didn't become Mayor again.
"And the results of the election are . . ." the room became tense with anticipation. "Mayor Lastman by a landslide! Lastman took in 80% of the vote."
"Turn that damn thing off!" Grace yelled at her sons. Todd and Kim both scurried to the small box and fumbling over each other managed to turn it off. "If that rat bastard hadn't fired me all those years ago we wouldn't be living in this dump hole. I wish I could just strangle the guy." Grace clenched her hands into fists. Both boys almost expected to see smoke come out her ears like it did on the cartoons.
"Can't you just sue him, Momma, like the lady on TV?" asked Todd in an almost whispered voice. "I can't sue him! You ain't his kids." Grace paused. The edges of her mouth quivered as a thought rushed trough her head. "Or are you?"
Copyright 2001, K.C. Ramey. Don't take this without my permission. you can read it but don't steal it as your own. If you want to use it as an example please e-mail me with what you want to use it for. sardogmom@yahoo.com