This short story came about for my writer's group - our assignment was to use the thesaurus to find synonyms for one particular word and use as many as we could. I chose Angry/Anger. I still wasn't inspired to write anything, though. I asked my husband to give me a random sentence as a prompt. He found, "Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting," from William Faulkner's The Sound and The Fury. This this the result...
Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. They had just moved in next door and I was dying to get a peek at the new neighbors. The blond boy curled his fist into a ball of fury and swung while the black haired boy made an unsuccessful attempt to dodge the blow and lashed out with the vexation of having been punched, his infuriation powering his arm like a piston to slam into the blond boy’s nose. Blondie howled in indignation and leapt at his enraged companion, tackling Blackie as effectively as a linebacker. The next thing I knew, they were in a tangle on the ground, dust clouds in raging billows around them as they kicked up the dry dirt.
I watched with fascination until I felt an irate hand on my collar dragging me from my hidden perch. My mother’s exasperated face met mine.
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” she snapped, her cheeks red and puffing.
“I was just watching –”
“You were just watching, huh?” She put her hands on her wide hips and glared. “Get in the house. Now!”
I didn’t dare disobey and started to run. My mother was scary when she was cross. Almost at the porch steps, I realized she wasn’t behind me and turned back to see where she had gone. I watched as she stormed into the neighbor’s yard, her broom brandished in one hand like a knight’s sword ready for battle. I crept back to my observation point and watched between the fence slats.
She raised the broom and brought it down on the turbulent ball of fighting. The two boys separated almost immediately, both still fuming, their eyes sparking with hateful spite. Blondie’s upper lip was smeared red from his injured nose and Blackie’s chin was scraped, dirt and blood mixing in a rufescent mud along his jaw.
“Get up, both of you!” My mother’s ferocious words caused the boys to jump to their feet as if she were their drill sergeant. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Neither spoke. Their fiery battle brought to an end, they now looked sullen and sulky.
“Do I have to tell your mother about this?”
“No, ma’am,” Blondie said as he wiped blood from his nostrils with the back of his hand.
With them standing still, I could see they weren’t just brothers, but twins, the same light blue eyes looking out from similarly shaped faces, their height and body shape identical. Their hair color was the only striking difference.
“Well, knock it off,” she said. “To say I’m displeased to have to come over here and break up you two cretins would be a vast understatement. If I have to get involved again, you’re both going to be in more hot water than you can imagine.”
Not wanting to antagonize her but unable to control his flared temper, Blackie flipped her the bird as soon as her back was turned. Blondie clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle a laugh. The boys looked at each other and smiled. United in a common enemy, their earlier violence was forgotten. I found my own lips twitching in an upward curve.
Knowing I’d be the focus of her ill temper if she found me back at the hole in the fence, I scampered back to the house and sat on the front steps. I wiped the smirk off my face and made the appropriate pout she’d expect.
She barged through the gate into our yard. She looked mad. Then, her expression changed. The anger melted away and a joyous twinkle appeared in her eyes. Her lips twitched in an upward curve. She began to giggle, a happy little trill where I anticipated a snarl. It turned into a laugh, a merry, gleeful, jubilant, jocular, blissful, delighted laugh.
I began to laugh too.
Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. They had just moved in next door and I was dying to get a peek at the new neighbors. The blond boy curled his fist into a ball of fury and swung while the black haired boy made an unsuccessful attempt to dodge the blow and lashed out with the vexation of having been punched, his infuriation powering his arm like a piston to slam into the blond boy’s nose. Blondie howled in indignation and leapt at his enraged companion, tackling Blackie as effectively as a linebacker. The next thing I knew, they were in a tangle on the ground, dust clouds in raging billows around them as they kicked up the dry dirt.
I watched with fascination until I felt an irate hand on my collar dragging me from my hidden perch. My mother’s exasperated face met mine.
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” she snapped, her cheeks red and puffing.
“I was just watching –”
“You were just watching, huh?” She put her hands on her wide hips and glared. “Get in the house. Now!”
I didn’t dare disobey and started to run. My mother was scary when she was cross. Almost at the porch steps, I realized she wasn’t behind me and turned back to see where she had gone. I watched as she stormed into the neighbor’s yard, her broom brandished in one hand like a knight’s sword ready for battle. I crept back to my observation point and watched between the fence slats.
She raised the broom and brought it down on the turbulent ball of fighting. The two boys separated almost immediately, both still fuming, their eyes sparking with hateful spite. Blondie’s upper lip was smeared red from his injured nose and Blackie’s chin was scraped, dirt and blood mixing in a rufescent mud along his jaw.
“Get up, both of you!” My mother’s ferocious words caused the boys to jump to their feet as if she were their drill sergeant. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Neither spoke. Their fiery battle brought to an end, they now looked sullen and sulky.
“Do I have to tell your mother about this?”
“No, ma’am,” Blondie said as he wiped blood from his nostrils with the back of his hand.
With them standing still, I could see they weren’t just brothers, but twins, the same light blue eyes looking out from similarly shaped faces, their height and body shape identical. Their hair color was the only striking difference.
“Well, knock it off,” she said. “To say I’m displeased to have to come over here and break up you two cretins would be a vast understatement. If I have to get involved again, you’re both going to be in more hot water than you can imagine.”
Not wanting to antagonize her but unable to control his flared temper, Blackie flipped her the bird as soon as her back was turned. Blondie clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle a laugh. The boys looked at each other and smiled. United in a common enemy, their earlier violence was forgotten. I found my own lips twitching in an upward curve.
Knowing I’d be the focus of her ill temper if she found me back at the hole in the fence, I scampered back to the house and sat on the front steps. I wiped the smirk off my face and made the appropriate pout she’d expect.
She barged through the gate into our yard. She looked mad. Then, her expression changed. The anger melted away and a joyous twinkle appeared in her eyes. Her lips twitched in an upward curve. She began to giggle, a happy little trill where I anticipated a snarl. It turned into a laugh, a merry, gleeful, jubilant, jocular, blissful, delighted laugh.
I began to laugh too.
