"Dandelions Are Prettiest" Part 12
Okay, so does anyone remember way back when I had that series, "Dandelions Are Prettiest"? It was a series of ficlets that I did. Well, after itching to revisit and expand it, I've come up with something. Here's the twelfth installment: "Grass Stains and the Distant Future". Enjoy.
They sat on the grass outside the band room, pulling out green stalks of the all too-common plant that covered far too little ground these days, talking about the future.
“Do you really think you’ll get there? That you’ll make it someday?” asked Ruth, brushing an ant off her sneaker.
“I have to,” he answered, looking up at the sky, as if for some unspoken affirmation and then to Ruth.
“Oh,” was her reply. “Well...what’ll happen then?”
“When I make it? I don’t know.”
“Will you still be the same guy?”
“I sure damn hope so,” he retorted, a little put off by the question.
“Well,” Ruth interjected into his thoughts as she turned her body to fully face him, “Well, sometimes fame changes people. No, really, it does. And I want to know, I don’t know, I want to know somehow that that won’t happen to you. That you won’t change.”
He laughed, saying, “Ruth, I’m not going to change, I don’t see what you’re so scared of,” he flashed her that side-of-the-mouth smile that never failed to get her. “C’mon, Ruth.”
“No...Charlie...” she was silent for a moment. “All those fans you’ll get...and you’ll get to so many people...you’ll get into so many people’s hearts and minds, God, souls if you want to believe that...and how can something like that not end up changing you somewhere along the way? And, well, if it doesn’t, it’ll change you another way, maybe. I don’t know. You’ll get cocky. You’ll think you’re invincible...get tattoos and piercings all over that scrawny body of yours...” She trailed off, and turned away from him. Picking grass seemed to become incredibly interesting for the moment. He stared at her back for a second, then, that smile again.
“Who you calling scrawny? Geez, Ruth.” He edged closer to her, careless of the mud and grass stains that were probably coloring the seat of his pants as he did so. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and collar, pressing her to him.
“Cheer up.” She shrugged. It almost couldn’t be helped, it seemed to her. “Nothing’s going to change, and if it does, it sure as hell won’t be for the worst...’sides, what’s wrong with a couple of tattoos and piercings? They seem pretty cool to me.”
Ruth had to laugh. To her, it almost couldn’t be helped.
They sat on the grass outside the band room, pulling out green stalks of the all too-common plant that covered far too little ground these days, talking about the future.
“Do you really think you’ll get there? That you’ll make it someday?” asked Ruth, brushing an ant off her sneaker.
“I have to,” he answered, looking up at the sky, as if for some unspoken affirmation and then to Ruth.
“Oh,” was her reply. “Well...what’ll happen then?”
“When I make it? I don’t know.”
“Will you still be the same guy?”
“I sure damn hope so,” he retorted, a little put off by the question.
“Well,” Ruth interjected into his thoughts as she turned her body to fully face him, “Well, sometimes fame changes people. No, really, it does. And I want to know, I don’t know, I want to know somehow that that won’t happen to you. That you won’t change.”
He laughed, saying, “Ruth, I’m not going to change, I don’t see what you’re so scared of,” he flashed her that side-of-the-mouth smile that never failed to get her. “C’mon, Ruth.”
“No...Charlie...” she was silent for a moment. “All those fans you’ll get...and you’ll get to so many people...you’ll get into so many people’s hearts and minds, God, souls if you want to believe that...and how can something like that not end up changing you somewhere along the way? And, well, if it doesn’t, it’ll change you another way, maybe. I don’t know. You’ll get cocky. You’ll think you’re invincible...get tattoos and piercings all over that scrawny body of yours...” She trailed off, and turned away from him. Picking grass seemed to become incredibly interesting for the moment. He stared at her back for a second, then, that smile again.
“Who you calling scrawny? Geez, Ruth.” He edged closer to her, careless of the mud and grass stains that were probably coloring the seat of his pants as he did so. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and collar, pressing her to him.
“Cheer up.” She shrugged. It almost couldn’t be helped, it seemed to her. “Nothing’s going to change, and if it does, it sure as hell won’t be for the worst...’sides, what’s wrong with a couple of tattoos and piercings? They seem pretty cool to me.”
Ruth had to laugh. To her, it almost couldn’t be helped.