The last piece.
Posted in: Slice of Life on December 3, 2006 at 7:42 pm by Glenn.I’m too tired and sore to write about my 13.1 mile run today. So instead, I’ll have two ounces of vodka and one once of sour apple pucker on the rocks, and write.
Write about what? Well, I’ll limit myself to 100 words or something just to get it going.
On page 17 of my ‘muse-book’ it suggests to, “Write about the last piece of something -pie, real estate, posterity- and the two people who want it.”
I have no idea. A piece of something: the last piece. I’ll just wing it.
“THE LAST PIECE”
Two hands reach across the table, one slapped down on the other. Two hands, one just three years experienced in grabbing and taking away. The one on top, a six year old boys hand, desperately trying to pry the tiny hand off of the table just to get to the last piece.
“It’s mine.” The three year old yells. “Mommy, it’s mine!”
“Bella! I get the last piece. I told you before!” The six year old now has to fight to pry two little hands that guard the last piece of the puzzle.
“Jacob is not sharing!”
Jacob gives up. “Fine! Go ahead. I’m going to do something else.”
“Mommy, Jacob said he’s going to do something else!”
Jacob slides off the chair and turns on the Xbox game system.
“Mommy, Jacob isn’t doing the puzzle.”
“I told you and you’re not listening. You promised I’d get the last piece and now you won’t give it to me so I don’t want to do it anymore. It’s not fair.”
“Mommy, Jacob said it’s not fair!”
“It’s not.”
“No, Jacob. You’re not.”
“I’m playing Xbox.”
Bella holds the piece up, as if mocking her older brother. But he doesn’t care, he’s too engrossed in a basketball game – more important things he believes.
Bella takes a look at the empty space on the dinosaur puzzle. The last piece in her hand, a perfect fit.
She looks at the piece, then at her brother who ignores her.
“Mommy, Jacob’s not playing with me.”
No response from ‘mommy’ or from a now engrossed Jacob, lost in his game.
Bella, with ease, could put the last piece into the open space. She wants to. She really does, but it doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem… fair.
Jacob, pulling up and shooting three’s, with Robert Horry, realizes the game is not going to be easy. He leans in, concentrating on defense but Bella stands in front of him.
“Bella! Squat!”
“Jacob.”
“Bella, I can’t see! Squat!”
She squats down so Jacob has a clear view of the TV.
She holds the last piece of the puzzle up in the air.
“Jacob, here.”
Jacob hits the start/stop button to pause the game.
“It’s the last piece.”
“Do it then. I’m playing basketball.”
“You said you were going to do the last piece so here.”
“Fine. Give me.”
The two find themselves back at the table where they were a few moments ago. Jacob takes the last piece and positions it over the empty spot of the dinosaur puzzle. It’s layered on top, just a push would set it into where it belongs.
“Push it.”
Bella looks at him for approval: really?
“Push it. I put it there, now you push it in.”
And with her little three year old fingers Bella pushes the puzzle in to place.
“Thanks, Jacob.”
“You’re welcome, Bella. I’m going to play Xbox.”
“Mommy!!! Jacob let me do the last piece!”
END
…make it more like 488 unedited words…
Good night.
