marmalade 10 : light bulb
marmalade 10. light bulb
story: second chances ; high school. wordcount: 1242. rating: pg13.
She looked down at the Ziploc, incredulous. "Is this..." Levee and her brother pull something strange out of the closet.
notes : this piece sat around for a lonnnng time part-way finished. it's just kind of an interesting, not particularly significant moment, but I hadn't done much with Levee and Derek yet so here we go.
Levee held the book tightly in her lap, frowning down at the pages. The thump, thump of Derek's footsteps running up and down the hall was making it hard enough to concentrate without the added racket of his plastic sword smacking the walls and the occasional piratey "Yarrr!"
This might have been cute, like, two or three years ago. But now he was nine. Levee thought she remembered being nine, and was sure she herself had been more mature. She must have been.
Making a face, she snapped Sula closed. "Derek! Hey, Derek, cut it out!"
There were a couple more thumps, then the noises ceased and her brother stuck his head around the corner. "Aye, Matey?"
When Levee gave him her best withering look, he dropped the voice. "You don't want to play pirates with me?"
"No," Levee said. "Right now, I want to read."
"Is Darcy coming over later?" Derek asked. The top of his sword dragged across the carpet as he walked into the living room. "If Darcy comes over, we could play Clue."
Levee sighed. "We can play checkers."
"I don't like checkers."
"Well, Darcy's not coming. It's a Friday night and she's probably doing something fun." That came out meaner than Levee meant it to. She sighed and set her book down on the arm of the couch. "Why don't you come read with me for a while-one of the books you got from the library?"
Derek sighed too, but plodded over to the couch, dropping the plastic sword at his feet. "Okay."
He'd left the book on the side table, and Levee silently thanked the universe as he picked it up and sat down at the other end of the couch.
She was just opening her own book when Derek turned on the lamp and they were greeted with a popping sound, and a brief flash of light. Derek flopped down on the couch like he'd been shot.
"I've been hit," he rasped, dramatic. His head lolled around by Levee's knees. "You go on...go on without me..."
Levee flicked his forehead. "Just go get a new light bulb, genius. Top shelf, hall closet, remember?"
"But I can't reach them."
"I can't either. Get a chair from the kitchen."
With a shrug, Derek tossed down his book and took off.
With some difficulty, Levee reached down behind the couch to unplug the lamp. When she peered under the lampshade to inspect the light bulb, the bulb was black but cool to the touch. The filament jingled as she unscrewed it from the socket, listening for the sound of her brother opening the closet door.
"You find them?" she called.
"No!"
"Try the closet by Mom and Dad's room then!"
She heard the closet door slam shut again, then Derek must have headed down the hall. She'd just sat plopped on the couch again, when there there was a crash-and the unmistakable thump of something hitting the carpet.
Levee rose up to her knees to peer down the hall. "Derek?"
"I'm okay!" her brother called back. After a few seconds, he added, "I could maybe use some help though...picking stuff up..."
Levee headed into the hall to find her brother by the overturned kitchen chair, scooping up the contents of a spilled tool kit. She picked up a light bulb-still in its cardboard sleeve-that had bounced over by her feet.
"Break anything?" she asked. The light bulb looked intact, at least.
Derek shook his head, jamming a screw driver back in the open plastic case. "I don't think so." He bent over to the retrieve the hammer, then hesitated.
Levee saw the small wooden box at the same time he did.
Derek picked it up. "Is this yours?"
"No," Levee said. She took a step closer to inspect it-the lid was engraved with a decorative pattern, but the finish was badly scratched. "I don't recognize it."
Derek shook it gently. "Must be Mom or Dad's. I wonder what it is."
"Give to me," Levee said, trading Derek the box for the light bulb from his hands. She peered at the little metal latch and with the tip of her thumbnail, eased it open. Inside, sat something wrapped in a brown paper bag.
With Derek peering over her shoulder, she unrolled the bag and pulled out a plastic baggie full of little bundles of...something dry, green and...pungent. She looked harder at the Ziploc, incredulous. "Is this..."
"Drugs!" Derek hissed, suddenly clutching her sleeve.
Levee tried to shake him off, closing the baggie in her hand. "Don't be foolish, it's probably just oregano or something."
His eyes were wide. "In a box in the closet? What else is in there?"
"Nothing," Levee said. She pulled away from Derek to replace the contents of the box and snap it closed. "How do you even know what drugs look like anyway? You're nine."
"From TV!"
Levee ignored that. "You shouldn't be looking through Mom and Dad's stuff anyway."
"You opened the box!"
"And then I closed it!" She stood on her tiptoes to push the box back onto the top shelf of the closet, where she could only assume her parents had hidden it. Derek was watching her, still looking horrified.
"Do you think Mom and Dad are drug addicts?"
"Of course they're not drug addicts."
"Lizz-y!"
She sighed. He was serious. "No, Derek," she said, firmly as she could. "They're not. I promise."
"Then...do you think they're...drug dealers?"
"Derek, you're being ridiculous."
"I'm not!" Derek lowered his voice to a hiss: "Parents are supposed to be your anti-drug!"
"What?"
"Like those commercials! Parents are the anti-drug. And our parents are...are...what exactly?"
"They're nothing," Levee said. "I mean, they're just our parents. Our normal parents. They were probably just hippies in the 70s or whatever."
"But-"
"Can we drop it? Put the toolbox together and let's go change the light bulb."
"Lizzy!"
"Stop calling me that!" Levee bent to scoop up the tool kit and snapped it shut. Derek was still looking shell-shocked. With a sigh, she tucked the took kit under her arm and reached out for her brother's shoulder. "Hey-it's really okay. I promise this is not a big deal. It's not like we found a crack pipe or anything. And don't freak out cause I said that..."
"I'm not freaking out!"
Levee wasn't convinced. "What is it then?"
"Well...how do you know it's not a big deal?"
She reached out to ruffle his hair. "Cause I'm older. I know things."
Amazingly, that worked-Derek seemed to relax a little. "Are you going to ask them about it?"
"God, no. Do you want to?"
"No..." He looked down at his hands, the light bulb he'd been clutching since before they opened the box.
"Yeah," Levee agreed, "Let's not mention this again. Let's go take care of that lamp."
Waving Derek back towards the living room, she got up on her toes to push the tool kit back into place in the closet, nestled up beside their parents' mystery box on the top shelf.
For a moment, she paused with a hand on the closet door, trying to imagine her father lighting a joint, his face obscured by a veil of smoke as he passed the joint to her mother.
That was an image, she decided, that did not need revisiting. She shut the door.
sooo, yeah. my problem with this story was that it seems like a significant moment while in my head it's...really not lol! but I had fun with the sibling dynamic between these two.
story: second chances ; high school. wordcount: 1242. rating: pg13.
She looked down at the Ziploc, incredulous. "Is this..." Levee and her brother pull something strange out of the closet.
notes : this piece sat around for a lonnnng time part-way finished. it's just kind of an interesting, not particularly significant moment, but I hadn't done much with Levee and Derek yet so here we go.
Levee held the book tightly in her lap, frowning down at the pages. The thump, thump of Derek's footsteps running up and down the hall was making it hard enough to concentrate without the added racket of his plastic sword smacking the walls and the occasional piratey "Yarrr!"
This might have been cute, like, two or three years ago. But now he was nine. Levee thought she remembered being nine, and was sure she herself had been more mature. She must have been.
Making a face, she snapped Sula closed. "Derek! Hey, Derek, cut it out!"
There were a couple more thumps, then the noises ceased and her brother stuck his head around the corner. "Aye, Matey?"
When Levee gave him her best withering look, he dropped the voice. "You don't want to play pirates with me?"
"No," Levee said. "Right now, I want to read."
"Is Darcy coming over later?" Derek asked. The top of his sword dragged across the carpet as he walked into the living room. "If Darcy comes over, we could play Clue."
Levee sighed. "We can play checkers."
"I don't like checkers."
"Well, Darcy's not coming. It's a Friday night and she's probably doing something fun." That came out meaner than Levee meant it to. She sighed and set her book down on the arm of the couch. "Why don't you come read with me for a while-one of the books you got from the library?"
Derek sighed too, but plodded over to the couch, dropping the plastic sword at his feet. "Okay."
He'd left the book on the side table, and Levee silently thanked the universe as he picked it up and sat down at the other end of the couch.
She was just opening her own book when Derek turned on the lamp and they were greeted with a popping sound, and a brief flash of light. Derek flopped down on the couch like he'd been shot.
"I've been hit," he rasped, dramatic. His head lolled around by Levee's knees. "You go on...go on without me..."
Levee flicked his forehead. "Just go get a new light bulb, genius. Top shelf, hall closet, remember?"
"But I can't reach them."
"I can't either. Get a chair from the kitchen."
With a shrug, Derek tossed down his book and took off.
With some difficulty, Levee reached down behind the couch to unplug the lamp. When she peered under the lampshade to inspect the light bulb, the bulb was black but cool to the touch. The filament jingled as she unscrewed it from the socket, listening for the sound of her brother opening the closet door.
"You find them?" she called.
"No!"
"Try the closet by Mom and Dad's room then!"
She heard the closet door slam shut again, then Derek must have headed down the hall. She'd just sat plopped on the couch again, when there there was a crash-and the unmistakable thump of something hitting the carpet.
Levee rose up to her knees to peer down the hall. "Derek?"
"I'm okay!" her brother called back. After a few seconds, he added, "I could maybe use some help though...picking stuff up..."
Levee headed into the hall to find her brother by the overturned kitchen chair, scooping up the contents of a spilled tool kit. She picked up a light bulb-still in its cardboard sleeve-that had bounced over by her feet.
"Break anything?" she asked. The light bulb looked intact, at least.
Derek shook his head, jamming a screw driver back in the open plastic case. "I don't think so." He bent over to the retrieve the hammer, then hesitated.
Levee saw the small wooden box at the same time he did.
Derek picked it up. "Is this yours?"
"No," Levee said. She took a step closer to inspect it-the lid was engraved with a decorative pattern, but the finish was badly scratched. "I don't recognize it."
Derek shook it gently. "Must be Mom or Dad's. I wonder what it is."
"Give to me," Levee said, trading Derek the box for the light bulb from his hands. She peered at the little metal latch and with the tip of her thumbnail, eased it open. Inside, sat something wrapped in a brown paper bag.
With Derek peering over her shoulder, she unrolled the bag and pulled out a plastic baggie full of little bundles of...something dry, green and...pungent. She looked harder at the Ziploc, incredulous. "Is this..."
"Drugs!" Derek hissed, suddenly clutching her sleeve.
Levee tried to shake him off, closing the baggie in her hand. "Don't be foolish, it's probably just oregano or something."
His eyes were wide. "In a box in the closet? What else is in there?"
"Nothing," Levee said. She pulled away from Derek to replace the contents of the box and snap it closed. "How do you even know what drugs look like anyway? You're nine."
"From TV!"
Levee ignored that. "You shouldn't be looking through Mom and Dad's stuff anyway."
"You opened the box!"
"And then I closed it!" She stood on her tiptoes to push the box back onto the top shelf of the closet, where she could only assume her parents had hidden it. Derek was watching her, still looking horrified.
"Do you think Mom and Dad are drug addicts?"
"Of course they're not drug addicts."
"Lizz-y!"
She sighed. He was serious. "No, Derek," she said, firmly as she could. "They're not. I promise."
"Then...do you think they're...drug dealers?"
"Derek, you're being ridiculous."
"I'm not!" Derek lowered his voice to a hiss: "Parents are supposed to be your anti-drug!"
"What?"
"Like those commercials! Parents are the anti-drug. And our parents are...are...what exactly?"
"They're nothing," Levee said. "I mean, they're just our parents. Our normal parents. They were probably just hippies in the 70s or whatever."
"But-"
"Can we drop it? Put the toolbox together and let's go change the light bulb."
"Lizzy!"
"Stop calling me that!" Levee bent to scoop up the tool kit and snapped it shut. Derek was still looking shell-shocked. With a sigh, she tucked the took kit under her arm and reached out for her brother's shoulder. "Hey-it's really okay. I promise this is not a big deal. It's not like we found a crack pipe or anything. And don't freak out cause I said that..."
"I'm not freaking out!"
Levee wasn't convinced. "What is it then?"
"Well...how do you know it's not a big deal?"
She reached out to ruffle his hair. "Cause I'm older. I know things."
Amazingly, that worked-Derek seemed to relax a little. "Are you going to ask them about it?"
"God, no. Do you want to?"
"No..." He looked down at his hands, the light bulb he'd been clutching since before they opened the box.
"Yeah," Levee agreed, "Let's not mention this again. Let's go take care of that lamp."
Waving Derek back towards the living room, she got up on her toes to push the tool kit back into place in the closet, nestled up beside their parents' mystery box on the top shelf.
For a moment, she paused with a hand on the closet door, trying to imagine her father lighting a joint, his face obscured by a veil of smoke as he passed the joint to her mother.
That was an image, she decided, that did not need revisiting. She shut the door.
sooo, yeah. my problem with this story was that it seems like a significant moment while in my head it's...really not lol! but I had fun with the sibling dynamic between these two.