Monday seems to be looking like the unofficial "extract" day on the blog, so here's another scene I've been working on. This one's from an adult fiction book with the working title of "Pandora's Box". The story behind this scene is that I'd been playing around with some short chapters and trying to come to grips with my main character. The fun part of writing this one was that I didn't know what was going to happen until Rachel turned the corner to her street. I love it when things just happen like that (though it is extremely rare). This still need some tidying up, but I'm starting to get to know Rach better, which is making the scenes and chapters in this WIP easier to write.
Enjoy, and tell me what you think in the comments below.
“See what a good clean out can do?” Jake
yelled, his hair whipping the side of his face.
I just grinned. This was the first time I’d
taken “Rosie” out for a run. Two weeks ago, she was a rusting, metal hulk
sitting in my garage refusing to kick over. I didn’t know much about cars, but
I was glad Jake talked me into buying Rosie from the auction a month ago. A
pre-loved ’67 mustang convertible, just looking for some TLC.
“She likes you,” Jake had said as I walked
past, not really paying attention.
“Ha, all the women do,” I’d replied.
“She’d be a beauty if you gave her some
loving.”
“Why don’t you buy her then?”
“Because,” Jake said, caressing the bonnet of
the car, leaning in close like a lover, “she’s more you than me. Besides,
you’re the one with the money to spend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just because I have money
to burn, doesn’t mean I have to buy the first thing that comes along.”
“This isn’t the first thing. And besides, don’t
you think it’s time you bought yourself a ride that doesn’t say ‘I loaned this
car from my Grandmother’?”
I laughed. There wasn’t anything wrong with
my Festiva, but I had to admit it wasn’t exactly the ideal ride to pick up
chicks in.
“If I did buy this jalopy, how am I going to
get it on the road?”
Jake grinned. “Well, you’d be lucky that you
know the best mechanic in the business.”
I knew Jake was living vicariously through
me. He wanted me to buy the car so he could work on her. And that was okay. He’d
been my best friend since he dacked Pete ‘Turd’ Burger in front of our grade
three class. Pete never bullied me again. I figured just by being near Jake I
was pretty safe, so that’s where I stayed all the way through school. Lucky for
me, Jake actually like me too.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” Jake asked.
I sighed. She was a nice looking car under
all that rust. And who could resist owning a car you could drive with the top
down? “Alright,” I said, “but you’re doing her up for me, and I want her
drivable in a month.”
Jake fist-pumped. “I’ll tell you when the
bid’s high enough,” he said. “You better go register. The bidding’s due to
start soon.”
It was actually quite exciting to buy my car
at that auction. Jake reckons I got her for a song. She only cost me ten grand,
and apparently they go for nearly twenty in her condition. Still, I’d just
bought myself a car for ten grand that I had to pay another two-fifty to get
towed to my garage. The flip-side was that Jake had spent every afternoon for the past month at my
place, tinkering with her, while I sat on the work bench and drank beer.
She still needed a lot of work done, but at
least now I could actually drive her.
As we turned the corner into my street, Jake
punched me in the arm and said, “You didn’t tell me you were moving.”
“I’m not.” I looked to where Jake was
pointing. A huge white moving truck was parked ass end in my driveway. Just as
I pulled up out front, two fat guys came down the front steps carrying my new
cinema lounge.
I leapt out of the car, and ran up the path. “Hey!
What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The two guys looked at each other and
shrugged. Without saying a word, they loaded my lounge into the back of the
truck.
“Hey, dip shit. I asked you a question.”
“Look, we’re just doin’ as we’re told, man,”
said the second guy.
“Who told you to move my stuff?”
He pointed to the house. “She did.”
I turned around to see Suzie standing at the
front door with her arms folded. Her lips were pursed and her eyes flashed
daggers.
“What the hell’s going on Suz?”
“What do you think?” she said, and then
stomped back into the house.
“You want me to come in?” Jake asked. I
hadn’t even realized he was right beside me.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. You should probably stay
out here anyway. For your own safety.”
Jake laughed, but he’d seen Suz in these
moods so he knew I was only half joking. As I headed into the house I heard him
tell the moving guys to take an early lunch.
I followed the sounds of banging through to
the kitchen.
“Suz?” I poked my head around the door way.
In this mood, she may well have a weapon. She had her back to me and was
rifling through a cupboard. “Suz? What’s going on?”
“I’ve had enough,” she said. She stood and
turned, brandishing my barbecue branding iron.
“What do you want that for?”
“It’s mine,” she said, tossing it into a box
on the bench.
“You don’t barbecue,” I replied. “And you
gave it to me for my birthday. You can’t take it just because you bought it for
me.”
“Watch me,” she said, and pushed past me into
the lounge room.
“Come on, Suz. This is stupid. Tell me what’s
going on and we can fix it.”
“Ha!” she threw her head back. “No, ‘we’
can’t fix it. ‘We’ are no longer, Rachel. I’m not putting up with this shit
anymore.”
I was a little lost. I racked my brain for
something big I might have done to piss Suzie off. I came up blank. Then again,
at certain times of the month, anything could piss Suzie off.
"Are you PMS-ing?" I asked. Wrong
question.
She
turned on me, stabbing the air with her fake nails. "No, I'm not fucking
PMS-ing. I'm fucking angry!" Suzie stormed around the lounge room,
stopping every now and then to pick up a trinket or a photo frame and toss it
into a box in the middle of the floor. She'd already been through our cd's by
the look of the cases strewn everywhere.
"At me?"
"Are you serious? Is that a serious
fucking question?" Suzie stopped, her hands on her hips. She stared me
down for a few seconds, opened her mouth to say something, and then threw her
hands in the air and stomped off into our bedroom. Against my better judgment,
I followed her.
"You," she began again, stabbing at
me with her finger over her shoulder, "drive me fucking crazy!"
"What the hell did I do?" I stood
in the doorway while Suzie pulled clothes off hangers and stuffed them into a
bag. All of a sudden, she stopped and sighed.
"You know what? I really think you have
no idea."
"No idea about what?"
"Us. Relationships."
“What is there to know?”
Suzie looked at me like I was stupid. Then
her expression softened a little, and she sighed. “I can’t do this anymore,
Rach. I just can’t.”
“Is this about the mess I left after last
night? I was going to clean it up after work today. You just got home before
me.”
“Yes, it’s about the mess from last night.
And about not calling when you’re late or not coming home. It’s about
forgetting to feed the cat for God’s sake!” Suzie was off again, slamming her
clothes into a bag, her voice getting louder with each accusation. “It’s about
flirting with every bloody woman you come across. And that car. That piece of
shit rust bucket taking up the garage. That’s what it’s about.” Suzie’s voice
grew as she gathered steam. I didn’t try to stop her even when she threw my
leather jacket into her bag. “It’s your stupid mates who use our house as a
drop-in centre every weekend. It’s avoiding anything to do with family. Do you
want me to go on?” she yelled as she emptied drawers into her bag.
“My house,” I said.
“What?”
“It’s my house, Suz, not ours.”
“Whatever,” she spat and attacked the
bathroom. I had no idea she was that pissed off. Oh
sure, she’d have a go at me every now and then about getting home from the pub
late, but she never actually told me she wanted me to stay home. And the car,
well, that wasn’t her decision. It was my money, so my car. Another thought
occurred to me.
“If I pissed you off so much, why did you
stay so long?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
At least she’d stopped yelling at me. “It was
the sex, wasn’t it?” I grinned. Suzie threw a bottle at me. Lucky for me, she
was a lousy shot. She threw the bag onto the bed, and scanned the room. I guess
she wanted to make sure she’d left me with just enough stuff to get through the
week. I’d wait til after she left to go through what she’d left.
“It doesn’t have to end like this Suz. Can’t
we talk this out like adults?”
“Ha! You? An adult?” She picked up the bags
off the bed, struggling to lift the last one onto her shoulder. I leant over to
give her a hand. “Fuck off,” she said.
I lifted my hands in protest. She struggled
out of the room. I followed her through the front door, and stood on the
verandah, watching as she threw the bags into the back of the Festiva.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” She
yelled at the moving guys. “I’m not paying you to sit around on your asses all
day. Finish putting my shit in the truck!” The bald guy shoved the rest of his
lunch into his over-sized mouth and trudged past me up the steps. The second
guy turned as he went past and said “Sorry, man.” I nodded. Jake came from
round the back and handed me a beer.
“At least she won’t take the car.”
I smiled. “Yeh, she hates Rosie.”
“Want me to sneak your lounge back out of the
truck?”
“Nah. I dropped prawns on it last night and
haven’t had the chance to clean it yet. Give it a week and she’ll be getting
rid of it anyway.”
Jake
laughed. We clinked bottles, and I took a swig. I watched as the
Festiva-formerly-known-as-mine drove away from the house, and out of my life. Just
like that, I was single again.