The Time Piece

a blending of people I know and love

“Hey, puller over.” Mother blurted as she pointed to the antique store.

 It was a lazy Tuesday covered in mist and I easily parked right in front.  As I think back on that day I remember how her eyes shined with mischief.

Before I could undo my seatbelt she was at the front door, like a child at Christmas she flung open the door.

“Hello Marge” she sang, full of life, her words were always served with a dab of southern charm.

“Longtime no see.” Marge the owner of Marge’s Loot said. She always seemed to enjoy visits from mother. Despite her age she swept in like a whirlwind.

“Come on Sue.” Mother declared.

“I’m working on it, How about waiting for me?” I chuckled out loud as I watched her blaze on.  At that moment I wasn't sure who was more amused me or Marge. Marge gave me a little wink, as I passed her by to follow.

Like a kitten drawn to a ball of yarn she landed at a table covered in antique pocket watches.  With great ease and a keen eye she selected one, paid for it and just looked at me. Her smile was wide with pleasure and I could tell she had no need to look any further.

“Ready for some lunch?” I ask flatly served with a smile.

“Yes, I believe I am, how about tacos?”  I nodded and we were on our way. Even though she said tacos I knew without a doubt she would have a chimichanga; that is what she always had.

The day was pleasant, I drove her everywhere she could dream-up and we laughed; oh how we laughed. Hum, how I miss that.

She asked me to take her by the Hallmark store and so I did. She clutched her tan leather handbag to her chest. Again without me she rushed in and her Red Door perfume lingered. The memory of my childhood  came to life with the aroma of her perfume and after a quick conversation with Mrs. Wilson, I followed.

 By the time I made it inside she was ready to go. “Come on Poky lets head home.” One word could not sum her up. She was gentle and sweet when needed. Hell Fire and Brimstone if a rebuke was called for. It seemed she was a master of measure pulling out the right emotion for whatever life had.

“I will not be undone by this path I walk.” She would say in defiance and watching her, always made me want to be more.

 We pulled in the drive at 4:04 and sat in the car to chat a bit longer. By now the clouds had lifted. You could smell pine needles curing all around and Ms., Mary’s Pumpkin pie baking next door. Another gift of Fall. Windows are always open  this time of year, so culinary magic could be shared by all.

At 4:09 Jack came leaping off the bus yelling for Nana. “Nana! Nana, I’ve missed you! What did you bring me?” Jack , was twelve in those days and without a care in the world he flopped in her lap for a hug and a kiss.

“Jackie my boy. How I have missed you.” I sat back and just watched this exchange and at that moment I longed to be young again. Mother reached into her bag and pulled out a small box wrapped in bronze paper and tied off in a burlap string.

“Wow, what is it, what’s inside?”

“A little piece of our family.” Mother said and the boy’s eyes twinkled with pleasure.  She told of Obadiah her great grandpa a Civil war hero and how it was the only thing he ever gave her daddy.

I was a little miffed at her whopper of a tale. But now looking back I smile with delight every time my Jack shows our little Jack the time.

Reviews

[Vic]

Here is some (hopefully) constructive feedback you can use in future work:

Grammar – check rules for punctuation. In the first sentence, the period after “over” should be a comma. Same with “Come on Sue,”.

You used that capital Mother at the start, maybe because of the period, but its fine to call her Mother throughout the story. That can be her actual name. I noticed you used mother throughout the rest of the story.

Some of the language seems a bit formal.

“Like a kitten drawn to a ball of yarn she landed at a table covered in antique pocket watches. With great ease and ( cut this - what seemed like) a keen eye she selected one, paid for it and just looked at me. Her smile was wide with pleasure and I could tell she had no need to look any further.” (How about: Her wide smile told me that she found all she was looking for).

“The day was pleasant () [and we laughed; oh how we laughed. Hum, how I miss that.”]

Show that the day was pleasant, don’t tell. Describe the weather, how the mother and daughter felt spending time together, did passersby’s laugh along and wave? The bit about missing her laugh seems out of place. If you want to talk about remembering her after she dies or leaves, include an extra explanatory sentence. I think your story is fine staying in the present.

“By the time I made it inside she was ready to go. “Come on Poky lets head home.” One word could not sum her up. She was gentle and sweet when needed. Hell Fire and Brimstone if a rebuke was called for. It seemed she was a master of measure pulling out the right emotion for whatever life had.”
She called the narrator Sue before and now Poky. Either stick with a name or nickname throughout the story, otherwise there are too many names floating around in the short story. The last bit about being unable to describe the mother takes me out of the story and reminds me that I am reading. It doesn’t fit with the feel of the rest of the story. Again, you can find subtle ways to show these aspects of the mother’s personality without telling me that she is gentle and sweet, but also fire and brimstone.

“I will not be undone by this path I walk.” She would say in defiance and watching her always made me want to be more. – This doesn’t really fit either. What is she in defiance of? Why is this relevant in a story about visiting an antique store?

“We pulled in the drive at 4:04 and sat in the car to chat a bit longer. By now the clouds had lifted. You could smell pine needles curing all around and Ms., Mary’s Pumpkin pie baking next door. Another gift of Fall. Windows are always open this time of year, so culinary magic could be shared by all.” This paragraph was well done for capturing the feel of the scene while they waited for Jack to come home.

Overall, well done. My biggest critique is that it starts like a story unfolding in the present in town, but it sort of morphs into something that feels a little bit of a eulogy, then back to a present tense story again. Be consistent with what you are doing and keep writing!

[Cherrie Palmer]

thank you so much:)

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

A neat and to the point little tale that leaves one smiling at the mischievous heart of a grandmother who values making her grandson feel good far above the slight of a small fib ...

[Cherrie Palmer]

I'm glad you enjoyed it, and thank you :)

[alanwgraham]

I like this a lot. It has a real feel good air about it. The device of the pocket watch works very well!
Alan

[Cherrie Palmer]

:) thank you

[M.E.Lyle]

Seems I spend more time than I used to living past adventures. I get a bit melancholy at times. This one brings back old memories of my own mother. She's 90 now and has trouble remembering our names.
She was once so full of life. To see her now is painful.
Thank you for this excellently written story.

[Philip Muls]

It seemed she was a master of measure pulling out the right emotion for whatever life had. I love that line because I also know people like that but they are very rare. Very tuned in to the cosmos.

I love your story. It has nostalgia as a general tone but contains just enough detail to make it all real. Simple routines can seem like heaven when looking back...

Well done!

[Cherrie Palmer]

it is one part true plus one part borrowed, with a dash of make believe. I am partial to that mix for most of that I write and thank you so very much for such a warm and kind review.

[Kreative Kana]

Hmm.. :) Memories are wonderful, and Marge sounds like a wonderful person to be with. :) Great job, Cherrie.

[Cherrie Palmer]

thank you, kana, I had fun writing it.

[Kreative Kana]

You're welcome.

[Samuel Dickens]

Simple times are the best, and you've shown what delight there is in an outing with your mother. The smells of autumn and pumpkin pie baking... mmmmm. The old pocket watch, too--now there's something worth having, even if it wasn't an heirloom. Beautiful memories, all. A fine little story, Cherrie.

[Cherrie Palmer]

I have to admit I have a soft spot for these kind of stories. :) and thank you