Thursday, 16 August 2012

Be the Pencil

In 2007 my sister, Gina and I went on a memoir writing cruise through the Carribbean.  For one of our writing exercises Nora Zylstra-Savage, our workshop leader, asked us to "write a story and be the pencil".  This was what came out.


And Your Point Would Be?
            I’m peeking out the top of my home – a pencil holder.  Thank goodness I’ve been sharpened only a few times so I can still peer over the top, unlike some of the stubbies in here.  They’re completely in the dark.

            I can see Marlene and Artie.  They’re playing with Artie’s tricycle and laughing.  It looks like fun – this is good.

            She’s five years older than he is.  It’s 1951 so he’s three and she’s eight – old enough to know a bit more than smarty Artie … one would hope.

            I’m not brand new, you know.  When I was new, boy-oh-boy, did I feel spiffy.  There’s thousands, no millions, out there who look just like me but I’ve always felt special, as though a part of me would last for a very long time.

            Some would say I’m standard issue – yellow, HP, with a gold ring running around my red rubbery head.  My head is an eraser and it’s used to rub out errors made by stupid human mistakes.  They do that a lot and when they do, it hurts like hell!

            How would you like to be turned upside-down and rubbed into the ground until the tracks you’ve made have disappeared?  Do you know what a noogie feels like?  Well, imagine that feeling multiplied a hundred times and you’ll know what life as a pencil can be … VERY PAINFUL!

            Wait just a minute, here comes Artie.  Damn, this boy’s a chewer.  I’m shrinking … I’m scrunching … down … down … down.  Please let him pick that hot looking red number four.

            He’s coming closer … closer … he’s twirling us one by one – damn – he’s saying, “This one is good!”  Now he’s got me.  He’s being way too rough on me.

            “Watch it buster!” I yell, “Can’t you see I’ve been freshly sharpened.  Mind my point!” 

            Whew!  I made it out, point intact.

            Oh, no!  I’m looking at Artie’s tonsils.  This can’t be good.

            Bite!

            “Ow-w!” 

            Chomp!

            “Ow-w-w-w!”

            Chew!

            “Ow-w-w-w-w-w!”

            CRUNCH!

            “OW-W-W-W-W-W-CH!”

            His mother has told him time and time again NOT to walk or run with anything in his mouth.  She likes to accompany that command with, “You know the actor Andy Devine?  He plays Jingles on Wild Bill Hickok’s Show.  Well, the reason he has that raspy voice is because he ran with a sucker in his mouth as a kid and choked on the stick when he fell”.

            But, I digress – I’m getting really scared.  He may have taken me out of his mouth but he’s getting a little too close to the wheel Marlene is spinning.  They’ve turned the trike over in order to crank the wheel.

            I’m getting closer … and closer … yikes, too close to that spinning wheel … so close I can feel the breeze … I can hear a squeak that needs oil … I … I … I … eye … yi … YI!

            Click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click …

            What could be worse than this?  I’m being used as a noise maker.  “Hey, you two!  Don’t you know the hockey card and clothes pin trick?”  I guess not!  I don’t know how much more I can take of this.

            Marlene’s whining.  What is it?  I can barely hear it over the click … click … click … click … click … click …  “Awe come on Artie, it’s my turn.”

            Finally!  The spinning stops, Marlene takes me in her left hand and like Artie touches me to a spoke.  The little brother yells out, “I’ll spin the wheel!” and here we go again!

            Rat   a   tat    tat      rat    a    tat    tat      rat    a    tat    tat  

            faster!

            Rat  a  tat  tat … rat   a   tat   tat … rat   a   tat   tat …

            Faster!                 

            Rat a tat tat … rat a tat tat … rat a tat tat …

            FASTER!

            Ratatattat…ratatattat…ratatattat …

            BANG!  STOP!  JAB!  OUCH!

            That little Artie, he put the brakes on!  I feel my point break off.  Marlene is screaming and clutching her hand.

            Nana Brigden, who is babysitting, takes a look to find my broken lead imbedded in Marlene’s palm.

            “No blood”, the Nana says, “it can’t be too serious.”  The screaming stops.  But where am I?  It’s very dark and dusty.  Once I’ve adjusted to the lack of light I see I’m in the company of seventeen dust bunnies, eight coins, four candy wrappers, a half eaten grape lollipop and a broken orange crayon.  I sure hope it’s not the crayon Marlene shoved up her nose a few years back … YUCK!!!

            I must have rolled under the chesterfield when she dropped me and started squealing like a stuck pig.

            Well, that’s about all I have to say about that particular incident except I think it interesting that Marlene has been so drawn to writing.  I like to think I had something to do with that.  You see, she still carries a piece of me in her left hand.

            And, that’s MY point!

---------------------------------------------------------

TO COMMENT PLEASE SEND A MESSAGE TO marlenerussell19@gmail.com


No comments:

Post a Comment