A Scripted Maze

perils with writing and whatnot

Rap, Rap, Rap (Part One)

My cousin, Richard passed away a little less than fifteen years ago. I didn’t know him well as a kid because he was seven years older than I was. Even so, I saw him at least once each month during those years because my aunt and her two children, Richard and Judy lived next door to my grandmother. He was a quiet person with tendencies toward the arts. In fact, he ended up being a draftsman as an adult. He did admirably in English and Drama in high school. I don’t know what year it was, but when Richard was somewhere in his high school years, he wrote a story that got him state recognition. This is what I remember of Richard’s story.

Rap, Rap, Rap

Hand Knocking on Window
Photo © 2013 by Jim Ruppel
http://sumo.ly/2AyU via @susanpcooper

It was the late 1950s, when children still had the freedom to go and come as they pleased as long as they adhered to their parents’ rules and curfews. Dean, Allen, and Kathy were three of these children living in the city of Englewood. As soon as they would get home from school, their respective mothers would ask them how their day went, pour a glass of milk for them and insist that they sit at the kitchen table and do their homework. Back then, there really wasn’t much homework because there was a class called Study Hall at their school. Most homework was done then. It was usually things like vocabulary words, memorization of dates, and special projects on occasion that made it to the kitchen table. After homework was done, the children could go hang out with their friends outside. Sometimes they’d play a game, other times just mull around the neighborhood. Weather wasn’t as big of a deterrent then. If it was chilly out, the kids would wear sweaters or jackets. If it was downright nippy out, you would see them in wool coats. The only things that would stop them from their outside socializing were rainstorms and snowstorms. October was a rather dry month in Englewood. Most children were outside in long sleeves but still didn’t think they needed a jacket or sweater. It was the playoffs for baseball that year so the children were still enthralled with the game. Dean, Allen and Kathy were in the vacant lot at the end of their street using the sides of their shoes to draw the playing field for their game of baseball. Afterward, they decided to warm up while waiting for the three members of the other team to finish their homework. Allen played the field. Kathy play pitcher and shortstop and Dean was up to bat. Kathy threw the ball. It didn’t even come close to home plate. She tried again. It was closer but still too far for Dean to even reach to hit it. She tried again. It wasn’t directly over the plate but she grinned at her achievement. Dean swung his bat, hitting the ball on the lower half. The ball went sailing across the gray skies touching down on the cracked sidewalk of the old Taylor place next door to the lot, and bouncing to one of the windows shattering it. “Great,” Dean said under his breath frowning at the Taylor house. “You’re our star hitter, Dean,” Allen said as he trotted in from the outfield. “Who’s going to go get it?” Kathy asked. “You’re the pitcher. You go get it, Kath.” Dean averted his eyes from her. He knew what her comeback would be. “Dean, you’re the one who hit it over there. You should get it.” Allen just knew that if this kept up, the ball would stay right where it was. “Hey! Why don’t all of us go? We can snoop around while we’re in there with a ready-made excuse.” All of them looked around at the other ones. This may be a fantastic idea. Kathy frowned. “What about the other team?” Dean looked up the street. “I’d say they aren’t coming. We’ve been waiting a while. They can’t get mad at us for not waiting forever.” The other two nodded in agreement. Dean picked up his bat he had thrown when he started to run the bases before. They sauntered over to the cast iron fence of the old house and stared at the gaping jagged hole that use to be a window about six feet away.

I’m going to leave the rest for next week. Call me wicked. 😛

Can’t wait until next week? Here is part 2.

Advertisements

14 comments on “Rap, Rap, Rap (Part One)

  1. Pingback: Rap, Rap, Rap (Part Two) | A Scripted Maze

  2. Pingback: Rap, Rap, Rap (Part Three) | A Scripted Maze

  3. Pingback: Rap, Rap, Rap (Part Three) | Speculations Impressed

  4. Debra Yearwood
    2014/10/21

    Oh, you’re wicked alright. 🙂 Fortunately, I started the story late, so I get to saunter over and read the rest.

    Like

  5. Pingback: Rap, Rap, Rap (Part 2) | Speculations Impressed

  6. Pat
    2014/10/17

    Wicked, wicked, wicked to leave us hanging like that. Hahaha — I get it, Glynis. Good story so far.

    Like

    • Glynis Jolly
      2014/10/17

      Pat, I did think briefly about writing the entire story for one post but it seemed awfully long. Besides, it’s the season of Halloween. 😛

      Liked by 1 person

      • Pat
        2014/10/18

        Oh that sounds even better, Glynis — a nice long story. Perfect for Halloween. Can’t wait.

        Like

  7. I’m just glad he picked up the bat and took it along. Every neighborhood had one of those creepy houses as a kid. I remember ours vividly!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Glynis Jolly
      2014/10/15

      Believe it or not, there wasn’t a creepy house in my neighborhood. Probably this is because, at the time, it was a new subdivision. Nevertheless, a little more than a mile away on my route to my junior high school, there was a house that didn’t have any grass in the yard. Instead, it had metal poles sticking up out of the dirt. There had to be more that 20 poles in that front yard. Talk about strange people. 😮

      Like

  8. Let's CUT the Crap!
    2014/10/14

    A cliffhanger? How could you? Yes, you ARE wicked to keep us waiting. 😮 😮

    Like

Please give thoughts, opinions and smart aleck remarks :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on 2014/10/14 by in other story parts and tagged , , .

Archives

:::::

Follow A Scripted Maze on WordPress.com

Member of The Internet Defense League

Broken Zen

Text+Sound by Wayne Mason

Dan Alatorre - AUTHOR

helpful writer ramblings from a disturbed mind just like yours

HarsH ReaLiTy

A Good Blog is Hard to Find

My Name Is Marion Ann

Living the creative life...

Chopping Potatoes

And other metaphors for motherhood

Random Rantings

Life, Relationships

JustAWomanWithRandomThoughts

Random thoughts, manic randoms, continuous randoms.

Darkest Desires of an Insecure Mind

A tale of insecurity, fear, betrayal and love....

Diary of a Psychokiller

take a trip with me to the darkside

D.S. MCKNIGHT

Author of Young Adult Fiction

Selected Essays and Squibs by Joseph Suglia

The Web log of Dr. Joseph Suglia

Kim's Author Support Blog

Authors Supporting Authors!!!!!

KathrynAnna

Writer. Writing.

Myths of the Mirror

Life is make believe, fantasy given form

Eternal Atlantis

Official Website of Luciana Cavallaro

A walk in my shoes

From Relationships to Weightloss

madgeniusclub

We're not really mad geniuses. We're just a little miffed

M. B. Weston's Official Website

The Latest News on Author M. B. Weston

Heartstring Eulogies

Conjured by Sarah Doughty

Kismet

Inspiration, Invigoration and Insight

Write into life

How to stay alive until you die, starting now. Writing helps!

Writing and other stuff

a sporadic account of things that matter to me.

notquiteold

Nancy Roman

Lynn Thaler

Weird and Random Thoughts

Broken Brain - Brilliant Mind

Learning to live all over again after Brain Injury and Concussion

COW PASTURE CHRONICLES

"There is nothing to writing. All you have to do is sit down at a typewriter - and bleed." Ernest Hemingway

Bane of Your Resistance

A place to share insight and information about the many forms of writer’s resistance (writer’s block, procrastination, distractions, looking for answers in the fridge, keeping yourself too busy to write, etc.) so you can stop resisting and start really enjoying your writing.

Writers In The Storm

A Blog On Writing

jean's writing

Jean M. Cogdell, Author-Writing something worth reading, one word at a time in easy to swallow bite size portions.

Writerish Ramblings

A Writer's Journey

Daily (w)rite

A DAILY RITUAL OF WRITING

Doorway Between Worlds

Communication tips with a creative twist

Aunt Beulah

living well to age well

Diane Tibert

~ writer - editor - publisher ~

Dianne Gray author

Australian Author

A Writer's Path

Sharing writing tips, information, and advice.

Left Handed Musings

Eccentric and skeptical

JoHanna Massey

"I tramp a perpetual journey." Walt Whitman

Andrew's View of the Week

Andrew's view of the world in poetry, prose, and picture

%d bloggers like this: