Tag Archives: divorce

Bradley (A Story of Connections)

Bradley stopped to peer into the weird store with all of the rats. He always stopped by here to watch them run by the windows in the huge maze of clear plastic pipes. One jumped at him, starling him into dropping his little shovel.

He picked it up and looked at the small clumps of dirt clinging to his mom’s garden tool. The green handle looked so new and his mom would certainly notice that it had been used. She was a neat freak, a word he overheard someone call her when they learned of her many cleaning rules imposed on him. He’d laughed at the term and called her that sometimes when she wasn’t around.

The same conversation was what led him here. He’d heard them talking about movies, then books, tuning out the conversation as best he could since it was interrupting his Transformers war.  He tuned back into what they were saying once he heard the term “father” uttered, which always grabbed him since he didn’t know his dad.

“And his father spends time with him by burying items in the park and then leaving clues so he can find them.”

“Wow, sounds interesting.”

“Yes, and he goes on a quest to find his father’s final clue by searching the whole city.”

Were they talking about Bradley’s father? He was furious at first with his mother. She had known about these hidden treasures all along and not told him, not let him start the search? Maybe, if he started digging in the park he would find one of these treasures and somehow finally meet his dad. All of his friends had dads. Not all of them had one living with them, but they still had them, and Bradley always wanted to know his missing parent. Maybe this was his chance.

But he’d been digging for days now and only found a few squirrel bones (which were cool, he had to admit) and a few creepy bums tried to talk to him. Plus he’d saved that little dog from the bigger one. But still no treasure.

Maybe he should ask his mom. But she’d kept it a secret from him for a reason. He was on his own.

As Bradley realized he was probably late, he turned and started walking home. A car drove by and he saw a girl he knew from school, but he ignored her. He had bigger things on his mind.

If you would like to know more about the people in these stories, click on the “Stories of Connections” categories and read about some of the other people he’s bumped into or connecting events. Bradley pops up in other stories here and there. Tomorrow, learn more about what Bradley’s mom was talking about in “Ronald”.

Advertisement

Dear John

Vintage photograph sent to me by Gina Esguerra. Click it for her blog.

She sat down to write him the last letter he would ever get from her. Years of letters had gone unnoticed, unreturned and discarded in the waste bin. She was tired of it all, of him. Thousands of meals, never a single thank you. She didn’t know a single one of her friends who had the guts to leave their husbands, but she would do it. A job was lined up, she had a room with her sister’s family, everything was set.

Maybe he would learn to appreciate the next woman who came into his life. Maybe not. But more importantly, she would be happy.

Vintage Kermit

“When did our bookshelf become all Rainbow Connection?”

She looked up from her copy of Dave Egger’s You Shall Know Our Velocity and shifted her weight in her favorite reading spot, the moon chair they’d bought at Urban a few years before.

“I found it in my parents’ attic! Can you believe it? Really brings me back.”

He picked up the vintage Kermit and made it wave at her. She smiled.

Kermit’s hand got stuck on his sweater and he had to pull it off. “What the…he has Velcro on his hands!”

“And feet!” she added. “Neat huh? He used to hang from my doorknob as a kid. He guarded it so monsters wouldn’t get me.”

He laughed and started propping the doll on the shelf with his back blocking her view.

“Don’t make him do anything perverted!”

After a quick dirty look, he went back to work. “Come on, I have the utmost respect for Muppets.”

She relaxed a bit in the chair. “You don’t understand, Kermit was my favorite. My dad gave him to me before he…left. I cried more tears into that toy than anything else I own. My dad used to sing Muppet songs to me. The show theme song or Mahna-Mahna when I was down, Rainbow Connection before bed.”

He turned and joined her in the chair for a hug.

“Thanks.”

“Check him out!” he said with a huge smile, clearly proud of himself.

She looked over to see Kermit sitting with his legs crossed and his hands folded on his lap.

“I love it.”