Eerie, Indiana fanfiction: Lawn
Written for Day 23 of September's 31_days challenge. The prompt was "provocative maintenance".
The windows had all acquired a thin layer of frost overnight, and it steamed in the feeble warmth of a clear September morning. The sky was high and blue and strewn with tattered wisps of cloud. The trees that lined the quiet street had changed into their fall coat of brilliant reds and golds, and when the rising sun shone behind them their leaves blazed like coloured glass in firelight. Fallen drifts of crisp autumn foliage huddled against rough dark trunks and glittered with melting ice.
Marilyn Teller opened her kitchen door and stepped out onto the back porch. Morning smells, of bacon and coffee and pancake batter sizzling on the skillet, drifted out behind her and were carried away down the sidewalk by a soft breeze that rustled the damp grass of the overgrown lawn. It could use one last cutting before the winter came.
Across the street, hidden from view behind the Teller house, suburban fathers in pastel-coloured polo shirts and beige chinos made synchronized u-turns on identical shiny-red riding mowers. The scent of fresh-cut grass and the low uniform drone of the engines filled the air and Marilyn shivered, pulling her shabby bathrobe tight around her. Wet cotton snapped in symphony as a dozen housewives in curlers and slippers hung their laundry out to dry. The soft metallic jangle of straitjacket buckles made a discordant counterpoint to the rhythmic slap of a dozen basketballs impacting the pavement.
Marilyn glanced up at the rusted hoop that hung half-heartedly just to the left of her kitchen door. The ladder was in the shed, the toolkit shoved haphazardly beneath the kitchen sink. She’d seen it while searching for the good china last Christmas eve. (The crockery had never turned up, but as there’d been an incident with the roast potatoes and a vengeful ghost turkey, they’d ended up getting takeout from the Dragon of the Black Pool anyway.) The lawn could wait.
The brakes on Marshall’s mountain bike squeaked in protest as he fish-tailed into the family driveway, the now-empty Eerie Examiner satchel flapping with the force of motion. Marilyn smiled at him as she pressed the lid down on the overflowing trash can. There was a thin layer of rust on her hands and she brushed them against the front of her dressing gown, leaving orange-red streaks against the faded blue fabric.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said. “Breakfast in a few minutes.”
Mars dismounted and crossed the wet grass to kiss her on the cheek.
“Thanks, mom,” he said. He steadied himself on her shoulders, stood first on one foot then the other, and Marilyn realised with a start that she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes now. Marshall shook his damp sneakers, grimacing against the cold where the wetness had crept in through the failing toes of his Sky Monsters. “I’ll get this lawn mowed and be in in a bit. Make sure Syndi doesn’t use up all the maple syrup.”
“I was thinking that the grass could wait until spring,” said Marilyn.
“Oh,” said Mars. “Okay, I guess.” He sniffed. “Is there bacon?”
Marilyn gestured towards the still-open kitchen door and followed her son across the soggy garden, her carpet slippers squelching in the chilly mud that oozed up around his footprints in the overgrown green.
Teller Family History
First Date by froodle, in which a young Edgar Teller shows off one of his earlier inventions
Popcorn by froodle. Friday night is always movie night in the Teller household.
The Teller Home for Displaced Youth by froodle, in which Edgar harbours some doubts about his new home town
Tornado Day, Revisited by froodle, in which Syndi learns exactly what it means to be Miss Tornado Day
Wildlife by froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the beach
Culinary Delights by froodle, in which Syndi's terrible cooking may or may not have been an accident
Camping by froodle, in which Syndi cannot sleep
Artist in the Family by froodle, in which an immortal creature takes a liking to Syndi
Without Due Care and Attention by froodle, in which Syndi finally becomes mobile
Waiting In by froodle, in which there is an ice-storm and a handyman does not arrive
Brunch by froodle, in which Marilyn does not appreciate Edgar's help in the kitchen
Handmade by froodle, in which the Tellers receive a Christmas package from Marilyn's mother
Poor Life Choices by froodle, in which Syndi loves her brother anyway
Lillian by froodle, in which Marilyn's mother has concerns
Visitor by froodle, in which Marshall's grandma comes to stay
Nap by froodle, in which Marshall has a quiet moment in the Secret Spot
Fresh Sheets by froodle
Tradition by froodle, in which Dash and Marshall decorate a Christmas tree
Hometown by froodle, in which Mars and Syndi visit New Jersey
The windows had all acquired a thin layer of frost overnight, and it steamed in the feeble warmth of a clear September morning. The sky was high and blue and strewn with tattered wisps of cloud. The trees that lined the quiet street had changed into their fall coat of brilliant reds and golds, and when the rising sun shone behind them their leaves blazed like coloured glass in firelight. Fallen drifts of crisp autumn foliage huddled against rough dark trunks and glittered with melting ice.
Marilyn Teller opened her kitchen door and stepped out onto the back porch. Morning smells, of bacon and coffee and pancake batter sizzling on the skillet, drifted out behind her and were carried away down the sidewalk by a soft breeze that rustled the damp grass of the overgrown lawn. It could use one last cutting before the winter came.
Across the street, hidden from view behind the Teller house, suburban fathers in pastel-coloured polo shirts and beige chinos made synchronized u-turns on identical shiny-red riding mowers. The scent of fresh-cut grass and the low uniform drone of the engines filled the air and Marilyn shivered, pulling her shabby bathrobe tight around her. Wet cotton snapped in symphony as a dozen housewives in curlers and slippers hung their laundry out to dry. The soft metallic jangle of straitjacket buckles made a discordant counterpoint to the rhythmic slap of a dozen basketballs impacting the pavement.
Marilyn glanced up at the rusted hoop that hung half-heartedly just to the left of her kitchen door. The ladder was in the shed, the toolkit shoved haphazardly beneath the kitchen sink. She’d seen it while searching for the good china last Christmas eve. (The crockery had never turned up, but as there’d been an incident with the roast potatoes and a vengeful ghost turkey, they’d ended up getting takeout from the Dragon of the Black Pool anyway.) The lawn could wait.
The brakes on Marshall’s mountain bike squeaked in protest as he fish-tailed into the family driveway, the now-empty Eerie Examiner satchel flapping with the force of motion. Marilyn smiled at him as she pressed the lid down on the overflowing trash can. There was a thin layer of rust on her hands and she brushed them against the front of her dressing gown, leaving orange-red streaks against the faded blue fabric.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she said. “Breakfast in a few minutes.”
Mars dismounted and crossed the wet grass to kiss her on the cheek.
“Thanks, mom,” he said. He steadied himself on her shoulders, stood first on one foot then the other, and Marilyn realised with a start that she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes now. Marshall shook his damp sneakers, grimacing against the cold where the wetness had crept in through the failing toes of his Sky Monsters. “I’ll get this lawn mowed and be in in a bit. Make sure Syndi doesn’t use up all the maple syrup.”
“I was thinking that the grass could wait until spring,” said Marilyn.
“Oh,” said Mars. “Okay, I guess.” He sniffed. “Is there bacon?”
Marilyn gestured towards the still-open kitchen door and followed her son across the soggy garden, her carpet slippers squelching in the chilly mud that oozed up around his footprints in the overgrown green.
Teller Family History
First Date by froodle, in which a young Edgar Teller shows off one of his earlier inventions
Popcorn by froodle. Friday night is always movie night in the Teller household.
The Teller Home for Displaced Youth by froodle, in which Edgar harbours some doubts about his new home town
Tornado Day, Revisited by froodle, in which Syndi learns exactly what it means to be Miss Tornado Day
Wildlife by froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the beach
Culinary Delights by froodle, in which Syndi's terrible cooking may or may not have been an accident
Camping by froodle, in which Syndi cannot sleep
Artist in the Family by froodle, in which an immortal creature takes a liking to Syndi
Without Due Care and Attention by froodle, in which Syndi finally becomes mobile
Waiting In by froodle, in which there is an ice-storm and a handyman does not arrive
Brunch by froodle, in which Marilyn does not appreciate Edgar's help in the kitchen
Handmade by froodle, in which the Tellers receive a Christmas package from Marilyn's mother
Poor Life Choices by froodle, in which Syndi loves her brother anyway
Lillian by froodle, in which Marilyn's mother has concerns
Visitor by froodle, in which Marshall's grandma comes to stay
Nap by froodle, in which Marshall has a quiet moment in the Secret Spot
Fresh Sheets by froodle
Tradition by froodle, in which Dash and Marshall decorate a Christmas tree
Hometown by froodle, in which Mars and Syndi visit New Jersey