LITR 3731: Creative Writing
Student Fiction Submission 2003

Reani King

Cardinal Morning

Sitting on her back porch, watching the brilliant, red Cardinal perched on the feeder, she felt at peace. With the children at school, she was enjoying the unusual crispness of the morning. The leaves had begun their journey from the lush green of summer to the oranges and reds of autumn. A light breeze blows; rustling the leaves ever so slightly, and the sun covers her with its warm light. This time belongs to her and the Cardinal.

In the quietness of the morning, surrounded by the comfort and security of her home and loved ones, she lets her mind drift on the breeze. She returns to a time when her life was not so comforting and secure.

Her mind drifts back to a night not unlike so many others. She had left him drinking with his friends. She had fed and bathed the children and put them to bed. She waited three hours then cleaned the kitchen and retired for the night; knowing he would eventually find his way home.

Some time in the wee hours of the morning she was jolted awake by the shrill screams of the fire detector. With her heart pounding uncontrollably, she ran to her children’s room and gathered them up. She was consumed by smoke that had filled the second floor of the town-home. Trying not to panic, she raced downstairs, never checking to see where the smoke was coming from; trying not to frighten the children too much. It seemed to her that there was no smoke on the first floor, but she smelled something burning in the kitchen. Realizing there was no fire she set the children on the couch so she could investigate the horrid smell coming from her kitchen.

As she entered the blinding light of the kitchen she noticed that the oven was on and that the light in the adjoining bathroom was also on. Frightened and shaking, she turned off the oven and opened it to find something charred beyond recognition. The sudden escape of heat from the gaping mouth of the oven made her gasp for air. She quickly turned off the smoke alarm before it had a chance to wake the neighbors and went to the bathroom door.

She tentatively knocked, knowing what was on the other side, but got no answer. By this time she was furious at him. She opened the door, hitting him in the leg, hoping that would wake him from his drunken stupor. “What are you doing?” she asked angrily. She could feel the heat of her anger rising in her face.

“What do you mean?” he replied. He always answered her questions with questions.

“What were you cooking before you passed out on the toilet?” she demanded.

A look of dim recognition crossed his face as if he realized what had happened. “I was cooking a pizza because you had already cleaned the kitchen.”

“Well, I just got the kids up because I thought the apartment was on fire!” She said. She was becoming more and more furious as the conversation went on. Still thinking of the children, she tried not to start screaming at him; however, she could hear her voice rising.

“Come out of the bathroom.” She told him through clenched teeth.

“Okay.” He replied dejectedly.

As she waited for him to come out she went upstairs to open the windows and let the smoke out before putting the children back to bed. They didn’t seem to be upset about the ordeal. She thanked God that it was not truly a fire and that the children were not old enough to realize they had an alcoholic father who might one day cause them to burn alive.

“Why do I put myself and my children through this CRAP?” she asked herself.

She couldn’t help but think that what had happened was somehow her fault.

She returned to the kitchen to find him holding onto the sink beads of sweat popping up on his forehead and dripping into the sink, trying to put together the events that led up to this situation. She moved around him silently to the oven and removed the charred remnants of the pizza that had been the cause of her panic.

“I should make you eat this mess,” she told him as she threw it in the sink in front of him, secretly hoping it would hit him. She was still shaky from the ordeal, yet she was relieved that her home had not really caught on fire.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could muster as a response to the events of the morning. She did not reply. It seemed to her that he was always sorry, but never tried to change his behavior. She finished cleaning up his mess, went upstairs to close the windows and lay down with her children. As she lay awake, trying to gather her composure in order to answer the questions she knew would come when the children woke up, she heard him stumble up the stairs. He stopped at the door; she could feel his cold stare on her as she sheltered her children from him.

When morning came so did the questions just as she had expected. “Mommy, why did the buzzer go off?” her two-year old asked.

“Daddy fell asleep with something in the oven,” she replied; keeping the bitterness out of her voice was harder than she thought. She always tried to shelter her children from the truth, thinking they were too young to process it, and she did not want them to think badly of their father.

As always, worried about her father the child asked, “Is Daddy okay?”

“Yes,” the mother answered, “But let’s let him sleep a little while longer.”

“Make Daddy breakfast, Mommy?” the child asked with a cherubic smile.

“Yes, let’s go down and make us all some breakfast,” the mother replied.

She took the children downstairs, turned on cartoons, and made breakfast, trying to keep a smile on her face. She knew she should leave, but at that time she thought it would get better.

With a sudden cold chill she found herself back in the present, on her back porch, but her mind is still a million miles away. She pondered the questions again just as she had so many times before, “Why did she stay with him so long?” “Was there really anything more she could have done to help him change his habits?” She thought probably not. Besides, the past is the past.

Her husband, gently touching her brow, brings her back from the prison of her thoughts. “Good morning, where were you just then?” he asks playfully.

“Just thinking of you and how good it is to be here.” She lied, smiling contentedly.

“Don’t worry about the kids.” He tells her. “I will pick them up and get them to practice. You just worry about getting your school work done.”

“Thank you.” She replies gazing lovingly up at him.

As she says goodbye to the man she loves, as he goes off to work, she looks again at the Cardinal. He is still there with her. It seems as though he is saying goodbye to the summer with her. She feels somehow connected to the Cardinal, and as her temporary morning companion takes flight, she feels as though she, too, is weightless and free.

(original draft of first page)

Reani King

As she sat on her back porch, watching the brilliant, red Cardinal pecking at the seed, she felt at peace. With the children at school, she was enjoying the unusual crispness of the morning. The leaves had begun their journey from the lush green of summer to the oranges and reds of autumn. A light breeze was blowing; rustling the leaves ever so slightly, and the sun covered her with its warm light. That time belonged to her and the Cardinal.

In the quietness of the morning, surrounded by the comfort and security of her home and loved ones, she let her mind drift on the breeze. She returned to a time when her life was not so comforting and secure. Her mind drifts back to a night not unlike so many others. She had left him drinking with his friends. She had fed and bathed the children and put them to bed. She waited three hours then cleaned the kitchen and retired for the night; knowing he would eventually find his way home.

Some time in the wee hours of the morning she was jolted awake by the shrill screams of the fire detector. As she ran to her children’s room and gathered them up, she was consumed by smoke that had filled the second floor of the town-home. She race down stairs, never checking to see where the smoke was coming from; trying not to frighten the children too much. It seemed to her that there was no smoke on the first floor, but she smelled something burning in the kitchen. Realizing there was no fire she set the children on the couch so she could investigate the horrid smell coming from her kitchen.