Prompt 2: Fix your father.

I belong to a closed writing group.  Now and then I’ll post a few things here.  🙂

 

Monday, April 7, 2014
Prompt 2:

The phone rings. It’s your mother and she’s upset. “What’s wrong?” you ask. “It’s your father. A spell has been cast upon him and he’s been frozen solid.” You pause, knowing two things that your mother doesn’t: 1) This is your fault and 2) you’re the only one who can fix it. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll take care of it.” Write this scene.

 

Fix your father:

Molly woke up to the loud ring of her phone. She’d stayed up way past her bedtime the night before working on a case. After realizing that her machine wasn’t going to pick up the call, she slowly reached her arm over to the night stand and picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” she said, her mouth muffled by the pillow.

“Oh, good morning dear,” said her mother.

“Hi mom.” Replied Molly

“Dear, I’m sorry to bother you so early, but there’s a bit of… um well there’s a problem with your father,” said her mom.

“Hmm?” was all Molly could muster in her half comatose state.

“Oh goodness, I suppose I may as well just come right out and say it. Your father is frozen dear.”

Molly’s eyes popped open and she sat straight up. “Frozen? What do you mean frozen?”

“Frozen, as in he’s just sitting there not moving with a goofy grin on his face.”

Molly covered the receiver and rolled her eyes, “Christ on a pogo stick! Walter!!!”

“Mom, is he just stiff and can’t move or is he frozen cold.” Asked Mommy.

“I don’t see what difference that makes, the man can’t move!” said her mother in exasperation.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be over in a bit,” from behind Walter came flying into the room, literally…flying.

“What’s going on?” asked the large crow.

“It’s dad, he’s frozen!”

“CRAP!” exclaimed Walter.

“Who are you talking to?” asked her mother.

“Walter,” said Molly

“Oh, say hello from me,” said her mother cheerfully.

“Mom says hi,” said Molly as she looked at the crow. “Okay, we’ll be over in a bit.” She said and hung up the phone.

Molly hurriedly put on her yoga pants and a blue sweatshirt with a picture of a cats butt on it, that said, “Talk to the butt, ‘cuz the face don’t want to hear it.”

“So what’s going on?” asked Walter. Walter was a crow with an enchantment. Molly had found him near death at the base of a hill she’d been gathering some herbs from. She took him home and nursed him back to health; only to find out he had lived for many years with a witch. She had died and Walter was left to fend for himself, and had been caught off guard by an eagle trying to make a quick meal of him.

“Apparently dad is frozen. Mom said he can’t move and he’s just sitting there with a stupid grin on his face.”

“Is she sure he’s not just constipated? I’ve seen him like that before you know.” Answered Walter.

Molly looked at Walter and adjusted her glasses, “I don’t think ex-lax is going to fix this.” Molly walked to the kitchen and went through the cupboards. She was looking for a small red bottle. “Aha!” she exclaimed when she found it. “Got it.”

Walter looked at the label and began to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” said Molly.

“The hell it’s not. How did your dad get your hot flash cocktail?” asked Walter.

“I left a bottle over there when they were out of town last week. He must have just thought it was orange juice.” Molly threw the bottle in her purse, and waited for Walter to perch himself on her shoulder and then got in her car and sped to her parent’s home. When she got there she let herself in and immediately went into the living room where her mother sat waiting with her frozen stiff father.

“Ah, there you are dear. Are you hungry? Do you want some breakfast?” her mother hugged her and pet Walter on the head.

“No thanks, mom, maybe just some coffee.” Replied Molly.

“I was talking to Walter.” Said her mom.

“Some crickets would be nice.” Said Walter, as Molly’s mother smiled and nodded.

Molly shook her head and sat down next to her father as she opened the bottle.

“Okay dad, I’m going to pour some of this into your mouth. I’ll have to tilt you back a bit, so just let it run down your throat.” With that she eased her father back and poured some of the liquid into his mouth. Within seconds her father began to relax and move.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaimed. “What the hell happened?” He asked, and then looked at Walter. “Oh hey there Walt.” Walter waved a wing at the man and continued to stare at him, waiting.

“Dad,” she began in a whisper making sure her mother did not hear, “how many times have I told you, don’t drink anything you see in my green containers” Molly stood and watched her father as he himself stood and stretched.

“I forgot, and I was thirsty, so kill me.” He began shaking his arms and legs to get the circulation going. As he did so, Molly’s mother returned with a small plate of dead crickets.

“Oh, you fixed your father!” she exclaimed happily.

Molly’s father smiled and began to beat his chest, “Yup, as good as new.” He then frowned and stopped, and looked down.

“What’s wrong?” asked his wife.

Walter began to eat his crickets hastily, as though the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan and he wanted to make sure he ate his breakfast before all hell broke loose.

“Dad what’s wrong?” asked Molly.

“I HAVE TITS!”