Author's Note: This story is based off of Shel Silverstein's poem "Thumbsucker".
“I hope you have a good evening, Mr. Little.” the nice old lady said. She had me every Monday, providing the latest in gossips (scandals, marriages, dating, etc) while sipping sweet afternoon tea and nibbling strawberry crumpets. I waved her off, shoving my hands into my pockets. There was the autumn breeze, chilling my body. I didn’t enjoy cold weather. I tried to imagine a spring field, filled with pink flowers and green grass. Children running around, giggling. Endless blue sky. It was a wonderful daydream. Until I felt the wind bringing me back to my senses. Tugging at my coat, I merged with everyone else on the street.
Normal day in this town. It almost felt bland just walking around. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have a job (I was fired from my school job because I was “angry towards students”. It wasn’t my fault one of the kids threw the chalkboard erasers at me. I was twenty five and being bullied by a sixteen year old. It was about time he got a taste of his own medicine). My girlfriend left me for some money hog. Even when we were dating, I didn’t bring up the fact I knew she was cheating on me. Back then, I told myself “it was a phase”.
Soon after she left me, everything was falling apart. As I said before, I lost my job. My mother disowned me after finding this out. Even after I told her I was “trying” to get my life together. Like a dirty dog, I was shunned.
These painful memories never left. Perhaps everyone was being overdramatic. I didn’t even care. I guess it was a form of punishment. I wasn’t aware of time when I noticed the sky started to darken a bit. The lanterns in town flickered on as most of the people on the streets filtered into their homes or inside. Sighing, I shifted my gaze to a nearby bus stop. There was a woman in a green dress with auburn hair. She was bent over, playing with her thin, brown shoe laces. She looks friendly enough.
I walked across the street towards the bus stop. The woman didn’t look up, like a kitten playing with string, continued to lazily tie her shoes. The spot next to her was open, which was an invitation. The sky was slowly becoming a dark blue with an orange horizon in the western sky. I sat down, resting my hands in my lap. The lady didn’t look up.
As the sun continued lower and lower, the air around us got colder. I shifted awkwardly, resting my left leg on my right thigh. The woman, done playing with her shoelaces, sat up.
“I’m waiting for the bus,” she stated softly. Her voice was honeyed. Like a melting butterfly. I haven’t heard a voice like that since...
“I’m afraid, it seems, I don’t have any money to pay for a ride home.”
“Last time I checked, it was only fifty cents.” The woman watched me from the corner of her eye.
“Yes, but I don’t have fifty cents.” She replied briefly. I shrugged. The woman sighed deeply, playing with a string on her skirt. I gazed towards the bus schedule, seeing the next stop was coming soon.
“Do you perhaps have a fifty cents to give, mister?” She asked, turning her head towards me. Of course. She was one of those people. Needy for money. Pathetic.
A small memory wandered into my thoughts. That voice sounded much like somebody’ else’s. Whose voice was it? I blinked, my mouth slightly ajar.
“Ahem,” the woman waved a hand in front of my face. I snapped my view from the woman, glaring at the ground. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t give out money.”
The woman softly groaned, leaning back into the bench. The bus was in the east and coming in slowly. I stood up, putting my hands in my pockets. I could feel the only money I had left- two quarters. My girlfriend, before she left me, was always worrying about money. Every morning, she would place out the money I would need (which was seven dollars and fifty cents). It was a normal routine and I got used to it. Yet, as opposite as it may seem, she wanted more money. That’s why, as I said before, left me for some greedy bastard.
She dated me for my money. It was a thought that always passed my mind. Sighing, I stood under the bus stop’s roof. The woman didn’t get up from her spot. The bus was coming slowly in.
I looked back towards the woman. A déjà vu feeling crept over me. It felt as if a mirror was placed in front of me, giving a gaze into the past. A reflected dream I longed to forget.
I’m going to regret this.
I sighed, turning around. Don’t do it.
“Here,” I handed the woman the last of the money.
Never trust a thumbsucker.
The woman smiled. She placed her hand, palm up. I dropped the coins.
It’ll drive you crazy.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling. I knew she wasn’t smiling because of my kindness. It was a different reason, completely fogged and crossed off from my mind.
That’s why I ain’t going to let no thumbsucker suck my thumb.
Points:
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Canary word: Present
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125,022 Literary Works • 672,759 Reviews
An intriguing story. I liked the tone of it overall, and everything seemed strangely serene, even though the reader immediately picks up after they read about the woman asking for money that something is wrong. Before I formally start this review, the highlights:
-"“I hope you have a good evening, Mr. Little.” the nice old lady said. She had me every Monday, providing the latest in gossips (scandals, marriages, dating, etc) while sipping sweet afternoon tea and nibbling strawberry crumpets." I find this opening sequence somewhat confusing, as it didn't really tell us anything about the protagonist's current situation and it made imagining where the protagonist was a little more confusing. Was he outside of a shop? Was he outside of a home? Was he on the streets? It's a little vague, overall.
-"I didn’t have a job (I was fired from my school job because I was “angry towards students”. It wasn’t my fault one of the kids threw the chalkboard erasers at me. I was twenty five and being bullied by a sixteen year old. It was about time he got a taste of his own medicine). " Just a personal preference, but with a story as long as that I'd probably make a sentence for it instead of putting it inside parentheses. Again, personal preference, but it does make things less confusing for th reader.
-"Sighing, I shifted my gaze to a nearby bus stop. There was a woman in a green dress with auburn hair. She was bent over, playing with her thin, brown shoe laces. She looks friendly enough." The last sentence is phrased in present tense, while the rest of the work is written in past tense. There may or may not be other inconsistencies, but I thought this would be interesting to point out.
-"The woman didn’t look up, like a kitten playing with string, continued to lazily tie her shoes." I feel like there should be an 'and' after 'up, as it would make the sentence "The woman didn't look up and continued to lazily tie her shoes," instead of "The woman didn't look up continued to lazily tie her shoes".
-"That’s why, as I said before, left me for some greedy bastard." Again, I felt like you should've added a 'she' after 'why' or before 'left', so the sentence will be "That's why she left me for some greedy bastard".
Now, onto the actual review:
I really liked this, actually. For its length, it conveyed what it needed to convey, showing a protagonist falling into the same trap he has before. It brings up some strange questions about the nature of generosity and greed, as well--if the protagonist didn't give his money to the woman, would that make him the same greedy bastard his girlfriend left him for? And if the girlfriend left him for a 'greedy' bastard, assuming the bastard is giving her money, doesn't that mean he's also in a sense generous? Or is he profiting from her beauty, her love, her smile? In that case, is the protagonist also greedy, for giving money just to see the woman smile? Questions, questions. Probably don't mean much, but it's an interesting thing to delve into.
I'd say you need to use more show and tell, but that's not the case here at all. You told us what we needed to know, and everything else important about the story is shown entirely in the protagonists' actions. A very smart act, really.
So overall, a well-done work. Good job.
Signing out,
--EM.
Hi Steggy!
First of all, great story. I love how it isn't at all cliche, totally unique. Also, I love Shel Silverstein, so I appreciate this story. I don't have any problems with spelling or punctuation. And really, I have no problems with the way you laid out the story. The contradictions make you do a double take while you are reading it, but that is totally in line with Silverstein's work. You really did a great job with this and I hope you keep writing.
Groganbabygirl