Young Writers Society

I sat down in the shade on the small front porch of the small cottage that I had been renting since I was 18 years old. I sat there and watched my husband's namesake Dominic toddle around on unsteady legs. I wonder what his life will be like, will he be the school football star, a dancer, an artist or will he be a high school bad boy just like his dad was. I also wonder can I be the mother he needs as time progresses and never ends. I watch my son like a hawk. He is my reason for living. But as I sit there in the shade on the porch I find my mind wandering back to when I was young and time was endless. Back to when you could walk down to the corner store and not even have to lock your front door, a neighbour was better then a guard dog; and life and time never mattered. Back to when that toy you found in the cereal box was better then that spoilt kids doll from china that her dad sent her, just cause you and your dad flipped a coin to see who got it, you won (of course). Life was good and time was endless.

I remember my first day of grade two, the green classroom and the yellow dress my teacher wore everyday, I wonder does she still wear it now. I remember grade six I think it was when the football boys; my best friends had chased me with the green tree frog that they had found. I chased them with molly the classroom mouse, who ever thought that boys would be scared of mice. I remember the first time I gave a boy a black eye. It was my grade seven boyfriend Thomas, and he wanted to see my knickers. Mum shook her head and dad gave me a high five after they escorted me out of the school grounds. Thomas was grounded. I remember year ten egging the football coaches house with the football team after I was told that I couldn't play on the boys team. I was grounded for three months by my parents, and given lunch and after school detentions by my school, it was February when I egged the house. Getting detentions turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me though. I met my husband Dominic in detention, his coal black eyes and raven hair captured me from the start even though I did my level best to ignore him. Dominic was a notorious bad boy and always had girls flocking around him, usually blondes. When I say blonde, I don't mean your average blondes either, these girls were as ditty as they come.

I never paid Dominic much attention in detention, and I guess that got to him in the end. It seemed to him that I wasn't like all the other girls. Well no surprise there, I was in detention. Dominic turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me that year. He wasn't as bad as everyone thought he just had a bad home life. His father abused him when he was younger and it wasn't only mental either, Dominic had a neat row of cigarette burns up the inside of his arm and a knife scar on his back from were he tried to run away from his father.

The night of our formal was one no one forgot in a hurry, half way through the night Dominic walked up the stage and asked if the love of his life would please come up to him. Time stopped, the crowd held its breath, so did I. They parted, a clear path to the stage, between me and Dominic, every one knew he was referring to me, because we had been dating for two almost three years. I had tamed the bad boy. I held my breath and walked to the stage as the band started playing a rewritten version of 'bad boy', I had to laugh one of the lines was 'bad boy, bad boy watcha gonna do, watcha gonna do when she comes for you' time started again in a rush as Dominic slipped that little silver band onto my finger and asked if I would marry him. Of course I said yes. The school cheered and many wondered how the formal would be topped in the years to come, I don't think it ever was.

Time seemed to fly for the next few months, then on the day of my 18^th that long distant feeling of time stopping was back again. Two small red lines stopped time and my breathing, I passed out, Dominic found me latter, sitting on the edge of the bath in our cottage, time stopped for him to only for not as long as it had for me. I was hit with a volley of questions and promptly marched to the bedroom to rest. I pointed out from the bed as he went to make soup that I was pregnant not invalid to which, he laughed.

The next five months were a combination of doctors visits, antenatal classes, baby shopping, and morning sickness. Time went fast when I wished it slow and slow when I wished it fast. I have so many memories of that time, but the best one of all was one early morning when I had returned to bed after a hot glass of Milo, darn cravings, and woke Dominic getting into bed. He rolled over onto his stomach and put one hand on my then swollen stomach when suddenly the baby moved and scared the living day lights out of him, the look on his face was pure shock and it was so funny I laughed, which caused more moving from the baby. Once he had calmed down the amount of pure love and joy shining from his eyes caused a lump in my throat, because I knew I was causing those emotions, I was the one responsible for making him so happy.

I often worried about Dominic and the way he had to sleep with his arm around me and the yelling he would quite often do in his sleep. I asked my doctor when I went for one of my check ups and I told her about Dominic being abused, she thought it over and told me it could be that he is protecting me from some one in his past. Some one his subconscious thought could hurt me, he never told me about his dreams if he remembered and I never told him about his sleep talking. I did however encourage Dominic to try and forgive his father for the wrongs he had done him in his past, Dominic's father had stopped drinking and I talked to him often, I often encouraged Texas to get back together with his son.

The day I gave birth was the perfect day, the grass was green, the sky was blue and Dominic had healed the gap between him and his father, it had taken time but those things always do. Dominic Louis Jones was born weighing 9 pound 11.5 ounces. His father a strong man was in shock and had to be escorted out of the room, Texas laughed and later told me the same thing had happened to him when Dominic was born. Once I was released we went back to our cottage, I was worried even though I had every thing that I would need for Dominic I hadn't set up his room or painted it. But Dominic senior showed me again why I love him so much, while I was in hospital he had gotten some of his footy buddies to help him decorate the room. One wall was bright yellow and had red hand prints all over it, a closer inspection revealed names under the hand prints, the entire football team had painted their hands and stamped the wall. Some one of considerable talent had painted in a beautiful flowing script along the top ' My family, We are famous' while they were not famous to outsiders we each knew them for some reason. They are famous to me and to the man I love. The rest of the walls were pale blues and greens.

Our happiness was to be short lived how ever with the phone call that we were dreading coming on Dominic's first birthday. My husband of 18 months was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer at the age of 20. To you 18 months may not be long, to me it was my life, in four years I had been with Dominic I had fixed the relationship between my husband and his father and given birth to a simply beautiful son, I also started playing football with the boys again. Dominic never told me his worries although I knew he had a great many.

Dominic went into hospital for treatments once a week for six months before saying, “No more!” he wanted to spend the rest of his time with his wife and son. He did not want to die in some lifeless hospital were time is destined to stop. I stated to make scrap books for the family, I made three of them, one for Dominic to be buried with him so he would always have something to remember his wife and son by, one for Texas so he could see his son before they had reconciled and so the he would know that his son was the bravest most loving man I would ever know. I made the last scrap book for myself and my son so that my son would know that his father was one of the greatest men alive and you can't escape time.

Dominic died two days after my 20^th birthday, lying on my lap holding his son who had fallen asleep oblivious to what was happening around him. His funeral held four days later, it was not a sombre occasion, I refused to let it be. It was a celebration of his life, it was how we wanted to remember him, my speech moved the crow to fits of laughter as I told them how I first met Dominic, after the football team and I egged the coaches house, I told them about when he first felt our son move in my stomach and how terrified he had looked, that produced a few sniggers from the boys. I told them of how faint he had looked when the doctor told him his son had just entered the world, I told them how he had tackled the trials of fatherhood, even managing to put the nappy on backwards once. Finally I told them how he often told me after his son was born that he was the luckiest man alive. All those in attendance that were not moved to tears stood and clapped for the greatest man to walk the earth.

My now two year old sons shout breaks me out of my daydreams, Texas or poppy as my son calls him is here, he loves his poppy. I watch him as he runs on unsteady legs to the front gate. He looks so much like his father, the only man I will ever love. I wonder as I sit there will my sons time be cut short too soon just as his fathers was, am I going to be the mother he needs. Well, we'll just have to wait and see wont we. Because when your a child time doesn't matter its endless. I will be here for my son till the end of time.

A wail comes from the bed room,

“I'll get her” Texas says placing a hand on my shoulder as he goes to get my four month old daughter. My last gift from Dominic. A daughter.

Timeless love.