Story archives here. You have to scroll down to the bottom for the beginning if you want to read in order.

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Now, if you think about it, me and Jimmy was doomed from the start. Grandma woulda said somethin about water seekin it’s own level or some such, and what she woulda meant by that is that my mama and my daddy were two of the most rotten sorry excuses for human beings ever to walk the earth. At least, that’s what me and Jimmy come up with.

Grandma had a lot of sayings, about apples and trees and chickens roosting and bad seeds and such. Eventually, I guess Mama decided she was nuts and had her put up in the Happy Valley Retirement Home for the Aged. She died real quick, and then Mama stepped out for her Coke. It’s been years now. Still can’t work up a taste for Coke.

Anyways, Jimmy has had his share of troubles. He runs into the law every couple weeks, usually about fightin, or drinkin, or drivin without a license, or driving without inspection or registration or insurance and a busted taillight, drunk. One time he got arrested for havin coffee with a woman, although I don’t think I ever got the whole story on that one.

So, all that to say that I wasn’t too surprised when the yard filled up with police cars and Jimmy come runnin in like a greased pig. I was a little startled, since I had been in deep thought about my no-good daddy dyin and what am I supposed to do about it, but not particularly surprised. I stepped out onto the porch with my hands lifted up just a little, not so much like I’m guilty but more along the lines of I ain’t got my gun.

“We don’t wanna talk to you, Jenny. Get your brother out here.”

“Now, Deputy White, what’s this about? Y’all gonna scare my baby with all them sirens. ”

Deputy White turned around and told the boys to shut off their sirens. They all looked pretty disappointed, but they done it.

“And y’all put them guns away. I got a LITTLE baby in this house. Oughta be ashamed.”

Deputy White looked a little bit sick, but he nodded back at the boys to put down their guns. The boys carried on a little, and that weasely little James Lee Cole waved his at me a little before he put it back, but they all put them away.

“Now, Officer. What’s Jimmy done?” I asked, real sweet-like. Way I figured it, Jimmy should be fallin out the upstairs bedroom window right about now. Sure enough, that weaselly little James Lee Cole heard the crash and took off runnin.

I didn’t bother telling him, but he didn’t need to run. Every time Jimmy falls out that window he just lays there moaning till somebody carries him off. Not worth the bullet…

The previous sections to this story are over on the sidebar under the label "Telenova"

I’d been thinking about it for weeks. No question, my father was dying. And there ain’t no question he was a bad man. Whatever inheritance he had waiting on me was probably some kinda rotten ol mobile home and a mound of debts and some ol mangy dog that wasn’t worth the bullet.

Still, like Hank Jr. and Jimmy been sayin over and over, he IS my dad, and I should be loyal and go on over and see him, just to honor a dyin man’s wish. Hank Jr. is pretty concerned about how I would live with myself if I let that old reprobate die without so much as a how’re you… maybe he’s right. It’s the sweetest thing, Hank Jr. worryin about me. Too bad he’s a skunk of a man.

It’s times like this I wish I had a mama to ask questions. I did ask my mama, back in 2^nd grade, about a boy I liked. She said she figured I was old enough to make my own decisions. I don’t recall ever askin her for advice after that.

Somehow though, I had a thought to watch her show today, see if maybe it give me some ideas for what to do with my ol man.

First off, she had woke up from her coma, but she was in some kinda secret identity or something. She was all dressed up like a schoolteacher with some big glasses and her shirt all buttoned up. I tell you what, I almost didn’t recognize her without her bosoms. She was arguing with a different angry man than usual, and whoo boy, he was givin her what-for. Now, I don’t speak much Spanish but it might have had something to do with a chicken.

Then, just when I was getting into it, mama’s former angry guy is in a bedroom with a real creaky old man, yelling and lifting up his hand like he was gonna slap him and the old man was too weak to argue, and then the old fella remembers my mama looking just about the same old age as she is now except she was obviously a teenager because she had two pigtails and bows in her hair and such. And she’s just crying and carryin on and slammin doors and then this music starts and she looks up and everything gets real blurry and she hugs the old man and then we were back in the room with the angry man and the old fella is layin there lookin real weak and such.

I was getting pretty interested in the whole story line when Jimmy come busting through the door screaming about pigs. I thought maybe some pigs was chasing him till 4 police cars pulled up in the yard and then those officers was yelling about surroundin the house and what not . Dadgum idiot. I tell you what.

First, a disclaimer: I am writing this story serial-style, and not trying to write a masterpiece, or even write RIGHT. This is "eest for fun".

All the previous parts of the story are on the sidebar, under "Telenova". You should read it all.

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We sat there squished on the couch for a minute till I couldn’t take it no more, and I jumped up and scooted over to the railing. “I gotta check on the baby,” I said, kinda to the air. “Anybody want some tea?” I was inside before I could hear them answer. I stood in the dining room for a minute before I remembered what I was doing. Lil Hank was sound asleep in his high chair, with macaroni stuck all over his face. Well, good. He could sleep there for a little.

I came back out to the porch and caught the tail end of some kinda muttered threats from Hank Jr. to the lawyer fella, who appeared to be ignoring Hank Jr.. I wanted to tell him good luck with that. I figured out years ago that ignoring Hank Jr. won’t make him go away. Only thing makes Hank Jr. go away is the police, and it has to be one of the police that ain’t his drinkin buddies, which narrows it down considerably.

The lawyer fella (Gregory) started in with a buncha gobbledy-gook. I interrupted him, “Look. You and me both know I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just give it to me straight.” He glanced up for a second and I forgot to breathe. What in the world had got into me? Hank Jr. cleared his throat real hard and kinda kicked at the porch rail.

Gregory looked at his papers again, kinda wistful-like and then put them back in his briefcase. “Okay, then, Jennifer…

Hank snorted. I give him one of them looks and he sat up straight.

“I was hired by your father.”

Hank Jr. stood up then and cussed. “She don’t want nothing to do with him! Lousy no-good-“

I happened to be standing my ownself so I got up close as I could to Hank Jr.’s face and told him I would handle this.

“Well, uh, Jenny.” he muttered. “Your daddy run off and last thing I heard he was in jail, and…” he kinda trailed off.

I was just tryin to handle having a father at all. Me and Jimmy had been our own for so long, and I just quit thinking about him after a while, so this was a shock. I wondered if he was dead. If Mama’s wishin coulda done it, he’da been dead years ago. I never really knew him, so I was surprised that my heart kinda hurt at the thought of him dyin.

I guess Gregory read my mind or my face or something, cause he chimed in there and said he was still alive, but not for long. He was sick, real sick and he wanted to meet me and Jimmy before he died. Seems there was some property involved, and a inheritance, but we had to come and see him first.

Once Gregory finished his explanation, we just sat there quiet for a minute. I thought about the big man in the flannel shirt, always mad, always leaving. I thought about my mama, all alone and cryin. I thought about Grandma tryin to teach Jimmy how to change a tire. I thought about it all, and then I got mad.

“Don’t guess I’ll see him.” I told the lawyer. “Guess he can take his money to hell with him.” And with that I went back inside, to my own house, and my own baby, and shut the door.

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Part six

Part seven

Part eight

Part nine

Part ten

It wasn’t like I never held a beautiful man at gunpoint before. I have threatened to kill Hank Jr, for years. One night, he snuck in my window and I hit him with a baseball bat. Knocked him right out into the bushes. I didn’t think he was a burglar, I just didn’t think he had no business coming in my window like he owned the place. He learned him a lesson, come back later that night and knocked on the window, like a gentleman. Also, on more than one occasion I have threatened my brother Jimmy’s life, for various things, like bringing home that no-good Candy, or taking money out of the freezer. So it ain’t like I’m unfamiliar with holdin men accountable to good behavior. This was just the first time with a stranger, who also just happened to look like he was from a magazine.

He took a good step back and his eyes were big like some Disney prince. I was so shook up, I just closed the door in his gorgeous face and put the gun down. Then I opened it up again, real calm-like.

“Can I help you?” I asked him.

He swallowed kinda hard and sorta lifted up his little briefcase thingy. “I represent the law firm of Kensington and Burns-“ he started.

“Oh. Hang on.” I glanced in the dining room real quick, but Jimmy was long gone, just like I figured. We don’t have another door, so he musta jumped out the window. Dadgum idiot. I turned back around and got hit by another wave of appreciation for such a fine specimen of humanity. “Jimmy’s gone. Just leave your warrants or subpoenas or what have you and I’ll try to catch him when he’s real drunk.”

He looked surprised for a split second and then held up a stack of papers. “Actually, Jennifer. It is Jennifer, right?”

My name is Jennifer, but I sure as shootin have never heard it sound so pretty. I just stood there kinda stupid for a minute.

“Her name’s Jenny,” a voice from the yard said. “Only folks call her Jennifer are crooks and lawyers and such.”

That just made me mad. “Listen here, Hank Jr., you mangy ol jailbird. You the last person oughta be talking free about crooks.”

“All I’m sayin is, you ain’t done nothing wrong and you don’t have to talk to this son of a –“

“That’ll do, Hank! I can talk to anybody I want to! And you’re the last person oughta be talking about sons of-“

The lawyer fellow interrupted real quick, “Listen- Jennifer. You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I have some official documents here that I would like to discuss with you.”

I tell you what, I’s ready to discuss just about anything with him, any ol time. I was just about to invite him in when Hank Jr. come up the steps like it was his house and parks hisself right on the porch couch. Of all the nerve. I turned on him and was about to tell him where to go when he looks up at me with kinda a pleading expression and threw me off a bit. I sat down kinda heavy on the couch, and that lawyer fella kinda slid in on the other side of me.

I didn’t know how I was gonna understand any kinda document anywhere, with my senses all rattled by a movie star in a suit and a heartbreaking no good country boy squishin me into a sandwich of confusion. Good Lord.

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Part six

Part seven

Part eight

Part nine

Something happened today. I know you’re probably thinking, well, things happen everyday, Jenny. Ain’t it the truth? Still, something really happened today.

I got off work, picked up Lil Hank, and went on home and just as we was sitting down to eat our mac-n-cheese, there’s a knock on the door. I had a pretty good idea who it was, and he wasn’t welcome. I had been trying to send him subtle signals to get hisself lost, but he wasn’t picking up on them. Evidently the dozen shredded up roses on the porch hadn’t give him a clue. I never said Hank Jr, was smart, neither.

I didn’t even get up from the table. “Go on and get your mangy butt off my porch, Hank Jr!”

There was a little pause, and then he cleared his throat and knocked again, real easy-like. I felt flames come shootin out my ears. “I swear to the Good Lord, Hank Jr., you knock on that door again and you are gonna live to regret it!” I yelled out as I was shovelin a little more mac-n-cheese in Lil Hank’s wide open mouth. Again, there was a little break and then he cleared his fool throat again.

Well, that did it. I shoved back from the table hard. “Watch Lil Hank.” I told Jimmy, who was just eating his food real quiet and nervous. I went in the living room and picked a good solid lookin shotgun and waited for it. Sure enough, that son of a gun knocked again.

I threw open the door and held up the shotgun, only to feel like I had got shot my own self.

The most beautiful man I had ever seen was standing on my front porch. Standing on my front porch, in a suit, with his hands up in the air and his beautiful blue eyes full of shock. Standing on my front porch with a shotgun staring him in the well-shaped kisser.

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Part six

Part seven

Part eight

Life is getting a little complicated, what with Hank Jr. being out of jail and all. I mean, he probably won’t stay out too long, but in the meantime I gotta deal with him just about every waking minute.

Well, not just my waking minutes, I guess. Last night he drove over here and played music in the yard. He don’t play a instrument, he just drove his truck up in the yard and opened the windows. Bout scared the life outta me and the baby, all that noise outta nowhere. He musta been pretty drunk. He sang out there for a good half hour before the cops came and got him… neighbors musta called. I didn’t, because even though I yelled at him several times to scat, I thought it was pretty sweet, what with the singing and all.

Tell you what, though. When it got to Hank’s mama through the grapevine, she was mad as a wet hen. Blamed me. I wasn’t surprised. I mean, if I am the ONLY one to blame for getting pregnant couple years back, then I guess I can be to blame for some drunken idiot driving up into my yard and singing all night long.

Today I got up early, like 8, 8:30 and got ready for work and when I get to Family Dollar, who do you think is sittin there in his old truck? Hank Jr., that’s who.

“Does your mama know you’re here, Hank Jr.?” I asked him.

He got all defensive and macho.”Now, listen here, uh, Jenny,” he says. “My mama, she uh, she don’t tell me what to do.”

I turned around and walked into the store. His mama don’t tell him what to do. I and everybody else in this town know that’s a lie. Me and Hank Jr. would probably be married if it wasn’t for him obeyin his mama, and I don’t have any more to say about that.

I got a good little amount of money saved up, for our trip, but I did a little research and found out that Mama’s soap opera is on some kinda filming break, and those episodes I been watching are from last year. Now, I gotta tell you, that worries me a little. I have a feeling that Mama ain’t one to stay put when ain’t nothing holding her down. Or when things, or people, are holding her down, for that matter. She just ain't one to stay put. I can only hope her amnesia's bad enough to keep her still for a little.

I know this is Thursday, but I didn't know that when I was writing the story. So this is Friday's blog early, and then you won't get another entry till Monday, unless inspiration strikes over the weekend.

This is part of an ongoing fictional story. Part 1 through whatever are over on the sidebar, if you need to start from the beginning.

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I planned on taking some time today to go on up to the library and use the internet to try to find out where Las Noches Apasionadas Del Amor Bajo Las Estrellas was filmed and all, and then Hank Jr. got out of jail and messed everything up.

Who’s Hank Jr., maybe you’re sayin. Nobody worth writing home about, should you ever go somewhere and write a letter home. Unless you wanted to write a letter about a no good two-timing louse who cheats at poker and just HAPPENS to be the father of my little Hank. I ain’t never gone anywhere, but if and when I do I will not be writing any letters about Hank Jr.

Me and Hank Jr. have been on and off again since I was about 13 years old. His daddy wasn’t named Hank, his name was Ed. Hank Jr. says his mama named him after Hank Williams, Jr. and if you knew Hank Jr’s mama, you’d know why Ed might notta had much say in the matter. Hank Jr. started sweet-talkin me back in junior high and ever since then he’s been like one of them stray cats that just keep coming around.

Anyways, he just got out of jail again and first thing he shows up at my doorstep. I let him in, because I never said I was smart. We sat on the couches and drank tea and he looked at little Hank wandering around.

“He’s a good lookin kid, huh?” Hank Jr. says.

“He is. Looks just like pictures of my daddy.” I tell him, settin the record straight. “And how was jail?”

“Well, heck, Jenny,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. “Heck, Jenny.”

We sat there that way for a minute. “I saw Mama on TV.” I blurted out. “Me and Jimmy and Lil Hank are going off to Mexico to find her.”

Hank Jr. sat up real straight. “Jimmy’s going over the border?”

I could see the wheels turning in his weasely little head. “We ain’t taking any luggage over for your grandma’s friend or something, Hank Jr. You can just find some other sucker-“ I started.

“No, no,” Hank interrupts. “That ain’t it. I just need me a little vacation, what with jail bein kinda stressful and everything.”

I looked real hard at him. He looked suspicious, but that was pretty normal for him. His hair was long and sticking out from under his truck cap, and he had on a old flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off. He’d bulked up a little in jail, I saw. I quit looking right about then. Last thing I needed was to be caught admiring Hank Jr.

“I uh, I been missing you.” He kinda choked out. My heart melted a little, but I held it back. He tried smiling at me, but it looked more like some kinda mutt with his jowls pulled back.

I knew I had to put a stop to this quick. I gathered up all my courage and said, sternly, “Fine. Fine, you can go with us. Just get on outta here before I change my mind.” And just like that, he was gone.

I just sat there wondering how the words comin down from my brain got all switched around on the way to my mouth. Good Lord.

The other segments of this story are over in the sidebar, if you haven't read them yet, or need a refresher.

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So me and Jimmy are making a plan to get to Mexico. My job is to find out where the TV studio is, and make enough money to pay for gas and food, and plan the time and Jimmy’s job is to find somebody to stay with when we get down there. He says he knows a lot of people living in Mexico right now. Sometimes it seems like a good idea not to ask Jimmy too many questions.

I got to pick up a bunch of extra shifts this week, due to my friend Beth winning a hundred and fifty bucks in the lotto and then taking the week off. That’s good money, but now I am pretty wore out. I picked up some chicken and fries for me and little Hank, and I thought maybe tonight I’d watch one of Mama’s soaps all the way through and see if maybe it says on there somewhere where they’re making them.

I tell you, I thought things was messed up here in our little Texas town. It don’t even compare to the mess over there in Mexico. I mean, from what I can tell, one guy was in love with the cleaning lady, and she had to be 40 years older than him… and this one lady had a baby, but then while she was sleeping in a big beautiful bed all with silk and lace and stuff, this other lady come in there and was looking inside the crib all evil, and then she had some kinda flashback of her running down the beach after this guy, but he didn’t hear her or something and then she was back, looking at the baby and muttering something. No good, that one. I don’t speak Spanish, but I can tell a rotten apple.

I was just kinda getting into the show when this scary music starts up, and that guy I remember from before- the one who was mad at Mama, comes storming down the hall of the hospital, just mad as all get-out and all the nurses with their cleavage are all scared and talking fast Spanish trying to follow him and then he throws open the door and there is Mama, laying all beautiful and still in a hospital bed, with a oxygen thingy in her nose. For a minute I forgot it was a soap and I was a little worried that Mama was dying or in a coma or something in real life, but then I remembered. So this guy, Rico, he falls down on his knees and he’s holding her hand and telling her to come back or something, and she’s just laying there and then he looks around all crazy and runs out. And then it shows Mama laying there all still and one tear running down her cheek. I didn’t even realize I was crying until the show was over.

And that’s when it hit me. Amnesia. Mama probably has amnesia, and she don’t even remember us. It all makes sense now.

The other parts of the story are over there in the sidebar!

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My name is Jimmy. You could call me James, but the last guy who did that found hisself looking real close at the insides of a toilet at the pool hall. Like I said, my name is Jimmy.

I am the only man in a family full of females. After Grandma died and Mama run off, it was just me and my kid sister Jenny. Didn’t seem like the griping let up any, even with two less women. You know that high-pitched noise you get when there’s a TV on somewhere, and it just keeps going? That’s kinda like Jenny.

Lately, she’s been carrying on and on about Mama being in Mexico, and we have to go and find her, and she needs my help and for me to quit watching the game and talk to her when all I wanna do is drink my ONE beer and watch the game. I work all day long and then I come home to this whining. If I wanted to be married, I would be. Man shouldn’t have to put up with this from his sister. Actually, one time I almost got married and Jenny ruined that for me. Chased off a real nice girl.

Finally I just had enough and I said,” Fine, fine whatever. We’ll go to Mexico. You, and me and little Hank. Just get out of my hair and shut up.” She was so happy she hugged me and near to knocked my pizza off my TV tray. Then I watched this rest of the game.

Wadn’t till I woke up this morning that I started to thinking. What was Mama doing in Mexico? After she ran off years ago, I figured she’d probably die fairly quick, given her taste in men, not to mention she had the sense of a squirrel. I doubt she wants to be found, since we have been right here for 5 years and she never tried to find us. And what was Jenny planning on doing once we found her? Just sittin down for a nice chat? What had I got myself into and how was I gonna get out of it? And what had that pitcher been thinking when he threw that last pitch? You’d think they’d have professionals throwin these balls…

Previous parts to this story HERE

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Now, this is Mama talking here again. I left off telling y’all bout my mama dying, and leaving behind some cash. Like I said, I was shocked. How many times had I asked her for a loan and got turned down? Too many. She tended to carry on about me getting a job, and I considered it more than once, mind you. But I tend to be delicate, I get sick a lot and my back is pretty weak, so it just never worked out for me. Leastwise, in this town.

When she took sick and went into the nursing home, we knew it wouldn’t be long. Folks don’t tend to live real long in the nursing home here in town. So when the call came, course I was just shattered, but I couldn’t say I hadn’t seen it coming.

Well, the night after my mama died, I went through her room, just reminiscing, you know. I read her journals, went through her mail, looked through her jewelry- I think I was just trying to feel close to her again. Me and Mama was close. Just about to killed me when she passed. I knew I had to carry on, for the children. Well, I call them children. They were nearly grown, Jimmy about 18 and Jenny, oh, 14 or so. Imagine my surprise as I was going through Mama’s underwear drawer and I found a big envelope full of cash. I just sat down on the floor and cried, then I started thinking.

The fact was, my kids had never had any money. They were born poor, and they were pretty happy poor. I on the other hand, was miserable. It was almost like I could hear my mama speaking from the funeral home, “I just want you to be happy, Daisy. Just go on and be happy.” So that was that. I started making a plan to go on out there and find happiness, just like Mama woulda wanted.

Part 1: http://radiantjess.blogspot.com/2009/06/friday-fiction-611.html

Part 2: http://radiantjess.blogspot.com/2009/06/friday-fiction-619.html

Part 3: http://radiantjess.blogspot.com/2009/07/friday-fiction-breakfast-with-jimmy.html

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Hi y'all. This is Mama talking here.

Now, I guess I get to tell my part of the story here for a minute. Trouble is, you probably don’t wanna hear it now that my name has been trampled, just trampled in the mud in front of well, everyone.

Things ain’t ever as clear as they seem. Like when you get a cup of water outta the faucet, and it seems good and clean, and then you notice little white stuff floatin in there. I’m here to stir up a little gunk so you can see better.

I married Jimmy Sr. when I was seventeen. Seventeen, y’all. Barely outta diapers. I started crankin out babies and then he got tired of the noise, and spending his hard earned dollars on something besides drinking and playing pool, and next thing I knew he was gone, and here I was with two snotty-nosed little kids and no money, and me looking like a million dollars.

I tell you what, I was something to look at. Still am, in fact. But back then, I knew I was too good lookin to work at Wal-Mart, and besides, I was Homecoming Queen both of my sophomore years.

Lucky for me, Mama was still living then and she worked three jobs anyway, so we just moved in over there and I helped out, kept the place picked up and made dinner every now and then. Mama never really appreciated me. She complained all the time, and who wants to be around a complainer? No one, that’s who. I spent most of my time at Thirsty Jim’s, and rarely paid for my own drink. God don’t give a girl a face like this because He intended her to pay for her own beer, I’m just sayin.

We managed to get by that way for several years, and then Mama took sick and we had to put her in the nursing home. She died pretty quick after that, bless her heart, and left us the house and a little nest egg she had been hiding, evidently. Surprised the heck outta me, because man, she could be stingy with her cash. Mama was selfish that way.

Part 1: http://radiantjess.blogspot.com/2009/06/friday-fiction-611.html

Part 2: http://radiantjess.blogspot.com/2009/06/friday-fiction-619.html

Seeing Mama on that soap opera had really wore me out and I nearly overslept and forgot Jimmy's breakfast in the morning. By time I got it done, he only had a couple minutes and he was just grumpy as a bear. I gave him his eggs and a Pop-Tart on a special plate and sat down for a nice little chat.

Now, me and Jimmy have had our ups and downs. I mean, brothers and sisters tend to have their squabbles, you know, and we was no exception.

While back, maybe 2 years now, Jimmy brought this woman home. Boy, she was all fingernails and denim and big hair and loose morals… I guess he figured she’d move in and be something like a wife. Now, Jimmy’s no saint but Candy was pure evil. I tell you what, I slept with a butter knife under my pillow… Candy only made it a week or two before me and her crossed up, and then she left pretty quick. (stole my perfume I got from Avon, too. Not worth the bullet…)

Another time, Jimmy got thrown in jail for a fight or something and I came to pick him up and then we got in a argument and I left his butt there. 2 days he sat in County. Lucky for him, the pizza industry was not too hard on its workers back then, he just went right on back to work when he got out.

Anyway, Jimmy thinks I don’t want him to ever get married and I cause trouble on purpose. Fact is, I’d love for him to get married and start leaving his socks in somebody else’s couch. I’m just sayin there ain’t a long line waiting…

So I knew going in I’d have to handle him gentle.

I started out real easy. “Hey, uh, Jimmy,” I said, putting down the coffeepot.

He started to growling “Why you got to slam the coffee around? Just so dadgum loud every minute?”

“Jimmy, I need to talk to you about somethin.”

And just like that he got up and walked out, griping all the way about the electric company and deadlines and how the President had it in for us and so on. Slammed the door and held his head all the way to the truck. Woke up the baby, too, the no-good…

Now I need come up with another plan. Or just wait till Jimmy’s in a good mood, which is harder than it sounds.

Also, I gotta do some research and find out where Telenova is, and why they’re hiring rotten run-off deadbeat mothers for their rotten soap operas. I guess I’mon have to learn Spanish.

This is part of an experimental experimenting with random or continued fiction ideas on fridays. Click here for Part I

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Well, there she was, bold as brass, right there on my TV, wearing some slinky evening gown and talking fast Spanish. For a second, I thought maybe I was wrong. But really, if you saw your mama on TV, don't you think you'd know her?

I was so surprised, I nearly dumped my Ramen in my lap.

She looked good, real pretty and her fingernails with little diamonds on em and just talking fast as you can imagine. Some guy was over in the corner, listening to her, looking real suspicious-like. That was no surprise, given Mama's taste in men. She was working hard on convincing him of something, but he wasn't buying it, which if you ask me, was the right choice. Then she starts to crying, and he gets all disgusted and looks out the window, real angry.

After a minute, I stopped watching and started getting mad. She run off and left us. We had been comforting ourselves, me and my brother Jimmy, imagining her dead in some ditch somewhere, with the Buick all smashed up and maybe a note or somethin in there sayin she was on her way back to us. 5 years we'd been waiting.

Instead, she'd been livin high on the hog and here we are just gettin by, living in Grandmas old house and working all the time... tell you what, I was getting pretty steamed by the time Jimmy got home. Course, he was drunk off his gourd and wouldn't listen.

I figured I'd try to have to catch him in the morning, maybe make him some eggs before he left for work, sweeten him up a little. I was gonna need his help bad.

Cause, way I figured it, we were due for a little trip to Mexico.

This is part of an experimental experimenting with random or continued fiction ideas on fridays. this one is random.

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She was just steppin out for a Coke, she said. Musta been a good one, cause she never did come back. We called the cops, but there was no evidence that Mama's life here had been happy, so they figured it was her choice.

They talked about putting us all in foster care, but Jimmy was nearly 18 and besides, there wasn't a social worker in our little town, ever since she up and run off with the junior high school band director. Now, that was a good story. Nothing much good about ours, just Mama was there and then she was gone. The saddest thing was, it almost didn't matter.

We made it somehow. And now here I am, 19 years old with my job at Family Dollar and my own little baby. Life is going along fine, and then all the sudden, everything changes. Ain't that the way of it, though? Not much changes slow and gradual. Just- bang! and then here's your new life and you just do what you can with it.

Anyways, tonight I was sitting in the old green recliner, watching a little TV, and somehow (I don't even remember how it happened) I saw Mama on one of them Spanish soap operas. Now, what am I supposed to do about that?

Tell you what, I'm tempted just to let her go.