Work Rough Draft

After pulling my sdelf out of the laundry p[ile, I pocketed the phone again and it beeped over and over in my pocket.  Downstqairs, a shrill shriek that was probably Rosie, my moms cat pushed its way upstairs.

          My mom was in the kitchen. She was stariing out the door, yelling . “Rosie, rosie, come back here.”  I stopped in the door way. 

          “You realize a cat is not a dog.  She wilkl nbot come to you, you can talk to her all day.” 

`Rosie was independent, and apart from being named Rosie, the only red on her was her moluth right before she bit you or on your skin right after she scratched you.

“She;s over by the Miller’s yard, Can you get her.”  My mom said, and it was more like a command than a question.

 “Yeah, I can get her back, she’s got to be told what to do then made to do it.” AS I said this, I walked over to where she was crouched in the grass watching some kind of bird.  She was going to jump on that bird and rip its heart out, and I was gonna stop her.

Before she could jump, I swooped down, grabbed her by the nape of ner neck, like most mother’s do to kittens, and pulled her up.   The look on her face, was that of humiliation.  “I’m the alpha here.”  I said, and Rosie was looking to see if I was mistaken.  She flailed.  “I said I’m the alpha!”

After pulling her across the yard and into the house Rosie looked at me.  I would not see her all day now, but she would stay inside.  My mom nodded.  “You can’t handle people that way…”

“Whatever do you mean?” I said taking a bite of toast.  “Little old me.  I would never force someone to do something they didn’t want to.”

“I’m just saying.  People aren’t cats.”

There was a wisdom to what she sdaid, but it passed over my head, slowing for a moment where it would hit me, then the phone rang. 

“Dammit,” I said, again.  “Jenny…”

This was now the sixth call.  Jenny wanted to talk, and If I didn’t answer soon ther would be consequences.

I flipped my phone open, and said. “Seacrest here, go for American Idol,” laughing when the first words hit me.

“I have been trying to reach you for two hours.”  I knew that voice well.  That was the voice that was going to make me regret even answering, so I closed the phone and muttered, “Oops.”

The phone lit up again like Vegas in Christmas.  Now she was going to let me have it.

“Hey, oops, musta got cut off, I said intgo the phone again.” 

“Did you hang up on me?”

“No Baby, no, lost the signal.  You know it happens out here.” 

My mom had crossed her arms and was looking at me.  Her eyes were burning laser fire into mine.  He facfe turned into a hard frown, and she closed her eyes and almost mouthed what I thought was “WTF.”  But more like “Are you kidding me?”

The words came out of the phone like bullets propelled by her soul.  Each one a deadly fact about the kind of person I was.  I looked at my mom and coverd the phone with my6 hand. “Too bad I can’t just grab Jenny buy the nape of her neck and say, I’m the alpha.”

“Don’t even act like that!”  It was official, moms face was already read.    She would not be talking to me today for much lover.  She would also call Jenny and try to keep our relationshoip intact, behind my back.  I listened to the receiver and occasionally turned my head from it, as the occasional really loud, stress-filled, estrogen induced statement burned through my ear and into my brain—like an earworm. 

“I want to talk to you after work, in the park,” she said and the statement ended with more than a click, more like a thump and I guess I surmised she had thrown her phone across the room.

“I’m the alpha here,” I said, and finished my toast.

Dialogue

“Nuthin from nuthin leaves nuthin.”

“I’m not talking to you, dude.”

          My dad was talking to me about Music.

          My dad came in the room, sat on the bed with a bunch of pictures and said, “Did I evertell you I was a popstar.”  He started showing me his records.  He put them on an old record player and started playing them.

          “dear God, my ears,”  I said and pulled a pillow over them.