Much like last week’s blog post, I’ll be creating a scene depicted from my life but this time with added dialogue and symbolism. The use of dialogue and symbolism is important in creative nonfiction writing because it helps develop context and underlying subtext to make a piece of writing with just simple action and description blossom into a full blown story. An example of a scene that strongly represents those two elements is called, Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway. I decided that it has been far too long since I last visited my dad, my stepmom Colleen, and my brother Chase. By far too long, I mean September 8th was the last time, which isn’t that long, but considering before I started working frequently and facing the fruits of being an adult now, I used to be at my dad’s house every single weekend promptly on Friday evenings and leaving bright and early Monday mornings- always a refreshing escape from the awakening realities the weekdays would bring. A few days before, Chase, mind you he is only 10 years old, called me on his brand new highly anticipated smartphone he got for his big double-digit birthday. It’s a responsibly used phone, or so my family claims, for emergencies only. Well, he called me on a rainy Tuesday afternoon where I was particularly stressed about yet another problem with my shitty truck, to let me know that he unlocked The Winter Soldier in his Marvel lego game on the Playstation 4. This made my day, not only because hearing Chase’s voice made me feel content, but because my favorite Marvel hero was on a lego game? Hell yeah I was excited. Who doesn’t love a lego game let alone one with extensive character options? Anyways, it was a very high priority, emergency ridden call. You can tell he’s not use to talking on the phone, scratching and breathing sounds prominent in the speaker in my ear that he wasn’t aware of- it was cute to me. He had begged me to play it with him as soon as I came home again so he can show me giant lizards and modified Venom characters with fire around them or some shit 10 year olds find really cool. “Are you ever even going to come home soon?” He says with a melancholy tone. It nearly shattered my heart. “I promise I will as soon as I’m not working, buddy,” I reassure him. “Okay… I miss you.” “I miss you too, dude. We’ll play the game for sure.” It’s important that I mention that my dad’s side of my family lives out in Norristown, about 35 to 40 minutes away from where I live in Drexel Hill. Why so far he lives and has lived for a while now, I’m still not sure. Between my job being close to my home and how often I work, it’s hard to find time (and gas) to sneak away to my dad’s and spend some time there like I used to. Today, yet again, I hop in my truck, tremendously happy to roll the windows down to feel the fall breeze I’ve been craving all summer like I had mentioned in last week’s post, and play The Weeknd’s album, My Dear Melancholy, that matches the sleepy tone of the cloudy, desolate afternoon. The drive to my dad’s feels longer than usual, the blue route feeling empty, then slightly busy momentarily, then empty again. Dipping in and out of lanes to reach my exits, the highways complicity is something I’ve been used to since I was four years old, remembering the route there like I remember to brush my teeth in the morning. The ride through Norristown is rigid and messy, as it always has been. It seems like my parents always choose places to live with the most garbage roads in the country. Seriously, driving down Main Street is the equivalent to driving through Manhattan in the first Avengers movie when Thano’s alien robot army pierced through the concrete buildings and roads and left rubble, fire, misery, and chaos everywhere. That’s besides the point. After my venture from one county to another, clunky roads, highways, and all, I finally reached home, my little temporary escape. It always has been. I’m greeted by my dad looking like he was ready to walk out and go somewhere. “What’s up? Where you going?” I ask him. “Hey, I’m going to Kohl’s, I’ve been thinking about this hoodie I saw all day and I need to use this coupon.” He says. He started to head down the driveway, got in his car to run his urgent hoodie errand. How exciting it must be to be an adult man. I was kind of bummed he was already heading out as soon as I got there, even though he’ll be returning soon. “Taylor, you’re finally here! You’re not allowed to pass unless you’re staying for a long time this time.” Chase exclaims, face smashed against the screen door, finally opening it after making a collection of smart comments on how I’ve been gone and being pesky to lead me inside. “Yeah yeah, I’ll be here till’ tomorrow, buddy, I have to go to school in the morning. Priorities. Is the soup ready?” I never asked a question so fast in my life. My stepmom sent me a snapchat a few hours beforehand of a delicious looking cheesy baked potato soup concoction, I assumed that was the sultry smell when I walked in that was enticing me to the crock pot in the kitchen. “Yes, please don’t hold back, theres' so much of it,” she says coming up the den steps to greet me. “Can I show you the Winter Soldier now?” Chase eager, nearly sweating with excitement lingering over my shoulder as I shovel the soup into my mouth. “As soon as I’m done eating.” I scrape the bowl clean and guide myself to the iconic plush, brown reclining chair that owns my living room and get comfortable with the player two controller blinking in my lap, ready to be dominated. Lights flash before my eyes, sounds of blasting lazors, coins shuffling into our characters pockets, the clarity of the TV and graphics is nothing like being six years old playing Lego Star Wars I on Playstation 2 on a giant, dinosaur Sony box TV. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen. Chase is a professional at it, swiveling his thumbs around with ease, calling me out for being “old” and not knowing what to do or how to become Deadpool and press X to jump into Ragnarok. “Alright, I’m gonna hand this over to you and do single player. I gotta start my homework,” I say. Definitely not talking about this very blog assignment right here when I say homework- definitely didn’t procrastinate. “Ew… homework.” The way he said that was so cliche and stereotypical 10 year old boy it almost hurt. The whole exchange was annoying considering I didn’t want to stop playing because it was actually fun and the corny remarks about homework from Chase. It was moments like these I missed the most. Moments that gave me comfort. I wish I could come home more often.
4 Comments
9/24/2018 08:06:10 pm
I like how descriptive you are, it felt like I was there experiencing this scene with you.
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Layla Laboy
9/24/2018 08:10:45 pm
The relationship you have with your little brother literally makes my heart smile. I'm the youngest of three and we are so close and this just reminds me of them.
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ashley
9/27/2018 12:27:45 pm
You really went in to detail and covered your scene
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AuthorHi! I'm Taylor Kriebel, a current student at Delaware County Community College. You're currently reading my blog assignments from my English Composition I class. Enjoy! Archives
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