Results 1 to 6 of 6

Thread: Hickory Street. (WIP)

  1. #1
    haaanh Mitch's Avatar

    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Location
    Connecticut
    Posts
    2,691
    Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo

    Hickory Street. (WIP)

    Hey guys,

    So this is a story I wrote as part of my English class. This is a very rough draft, and is still very much a work in progress, and I want your guys' opinon on what I can fix to make this better. This is a pretty significant part of my English grade so I would like to do well on this. And also, I just want this to be a good story. So please, read through and let me know what you think and what I can fix. Thanks!

    Hickory Street


    “Medley’s kick is low, it’s a good one … there’s a battle … and it looks like the Bulldogs have it! This one is just about over, as Georgia recovers the onside kick!”

    “Fuck!” was the sound that rung throughout the room. He knew a win was never in the cards, not on the road against a top-15 team, but he had hope.

    Dashing hope, however, was nothing new to him as a fan of the Tennessee Volunteers. When he was growing up, the Vols’ football team was perennially a contender, but since the resignation of Phil Fulmer, they had fallen on hard times.

    During these following years, he got older, more frail, and lost both of his parents. His father had groomed him into Tennessee football the same way his grandfather did to his father, before UT had even entered the Southeastern Conference. Waking up on Saturdays, tailgating, going to the games was no longer the same without his father there.

    He had taken the hiring of Butch Jones well, but was upset at the lack of progress. The last two weeks were two prime chances to get a marquee road win - and both were losses.

    He turned off the television and walked over to the cabinet along the wall. Inside the drawer, he pulled out a piece of paper that he cherished, but never bothered to spend the time to get it properly protected.

    It was the ticket stub to a football game on January 4, 1999. The 1999 Fiesta Bowl, in Tempe, Arizona. Tennessee vs Florida State. He had made the trip, by car, with his father, and they left celebrating the program’s first, and only, national championship. It was the highlight of his life.

    Weeks later, he was removed of his job as an electrical technician. It allowed him and his wife, Patricia, to leave Chattanooga and move back to Knoxville. He was thrilled. No more driving two hours to home games.

    Patricia, however, was none too thrilled about his laying off. Her perception of him seemed to change overnight. It had been 15 years since they moved, and by this point he had decided to retire due to an inability to find work. She still worked, 10 hours a day, and it infuriated her that she was holding up the family on her own while he sat and home and drank. But she couldn’t leave him.

    As he played around with the ticket stub in his hand, the door slammed open. He didn’t even bother turning around. He knew who it was, and exactly what she was going to say.

    She began to take her bag off and placed it on the kitchen table. As she started to walk upstairs, he yelled, “No ‘hello’?”

    “Hello, honey,” she said. She didn’t mean it. He knew it by now.

    “How was work today?”

    “It was fine. Nothing different than normal.”

    He nodded.

    “So what did you do on this lovely Saturday? Sat around on your ass and watched football and masturbated?”

    He got a good chuckle out of it, but she was in no laughing mood.

    “I'm so fucking sick of your bullshit, Julius,” she snapped. He was taken aback. Their relationship had strained ever since their move away from Chattanooga, her hometown, but she didn’t normally get mad like this.

    “What now? You’re just going to hurt on the poor little man here who doesn’t have a job? I’m sorry I don’t have the drive to be as successful as you do. We don’t need more money. Why don’t you just retire? Join me.”

    They didn’t need the money - he was right. They were well off and her parents were beyond rich. But she loved working. As upset as it made her, she couldn’t go away from it. Just like she couldn’t leave Julius.

    Patricia grabbed her bag and stormed right back out the door she had just come in through. She was visibly too frustrated to continue.

    Julius let out a big sigh. He went over to the fridge and looked for a good, hard beverage.

    He would be drinking himself to sleep again tonight.

    ~~~~


    He glanced over to the “Entering Clinton” sign, passing by too quickly to read the rest. He had seen that sign a million times on his way to his brother’s home.

    He drove slowly through the Knoxville suburb, glancing at the houses, small strip malls and kids out riding bikes. Clinton had a different lifestyle than his hometown of Johnson City, an hour and a half to the east.

    However, he enjoyed coming out to visit his brother, as it was impossible when they lived in Chattanooga. The town had a quiet feel and he liked that. He was often jealous of his brother’s wealth, and had always hoped to move out of Johnson City and back to Knoxville, but living alone he was never going to realistically have that opportunity.

    He pulled up to the corner of Hickory and Central. As normal, the streets looked deserted. When people wanted to go out, they took the time to drive to Knoxville. Most people didn’t hang around on Sundays, or if they did, they were inside.

    Julius was always inside, when he wasn’t at the bar or at a UT football game. So his brother didn’t even bother knocking on the door, knowing right where he would be - slumped up against the end of the couch, beer in one hand, television remote in the other.

    “Hey, Patricia,” he heard when he walked in. He laughed hard, in his signature baritone voice, and that caused Julius’ head to spin.

    “Earl, buddy! You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

    “I did tell you,” Earl said, “But I guess you just didn’t check your phone.”

    “Have a seat! You want something to drink?”

    “I’m alright,” Earl said. “I just ate.”

    Julius went to pour himself another glass. On tap today was a strong dark lager, a German-influenced beer. Over the years since his retirement, he began brewing his own beer nearby with the help of a local brewery. He best enjoyed the taste of fresh beer he made himself.

    “So where’s your wife?” Earl asked. He knew the answer.

    “Who knows,” Julius replied. “I’ve barely seen her since last week.”

    Patricia had decided to accompany Julius to Neyland Stadium the week before, to watch her alma mater, UT-Chattanooga, fall hard to the Volunteers. She had gone out with her friends from work later than day, and Julius did not see her on Sunday.

    “How have you been?”

    “I’ve been okay,” he lied. He loved his brother, and trusted him more than anyone, but couldn’t muster up the strength to tell him what was going on.

    It reminded him of when he was a 15 year-old freshman at Bearden High School. When he first told his brother about the girl he planned to ask on a date. Mary, that was her name. He was going to ask her to go to the Tennessee football game that weekend. Little did he know how poorly that would go over.
    He’d always confided in his brother, through the tough times and the good times. When Earl moved to Colorado Springs to join the Air Force Academy, Julius was still just a junior in high school. Having his brother move away left him hopeless. He started to fail school, and that led to the downfall of his time as a high schooler. Instead of his initially reaching his dream to attend Tennessee Tech, he ended up at Pellissippi State Community College for two years before transferring to Cookeville.

    And then there were the good times. His brother’s contract expired and he moved back to Knoxville, and helped Julius and Patricia find their first house in Chattanooga. He helped Julius find his first and only job, which he worked at for almost 20 years.

    But most importantly, Earl was there when their father died. He didn’t have the same attachment to Andrew that Julius did, as he didn’t grow up going to football games with him. Julius was heartbroken. It took him years to fully recover.

    After the death was the real start of Patricia and Julius’ downfall. He was never the same after that. She started to lose interest in him as he started to drift off into his own world. But she still couldn’t leave him. He knew something she couldn’t let anyone else know.

    But Earl knew.

    “Earl,” Julius started, “I just lied to you.” He realized his mistake and looked down at his feet. They hadn’t been washed thoroughly in weeks.

    Earl didn’t respond. He was used to getting lies from Julius.

    “I haven’t felt the same lately.”

    “I don’t know what it is, but I feel like a puddle. That just keep gettings stepped in. And then jumped on. And then shit on.”

    Earl didn’t really understand the analogy, but he nodded to allow Julius to continue.

    “But the craziest part is this, Earl,” he said, and then he stopped himself.

    He took a large swig of his drink and then began to talk.

    “I missed the game last weekend.”

    Earl was somewhat surprised. “You didn’t watch it at all?”

    “No,” Julius replied.

    “Well, you picked a good game to miss,” Earl said, trying to lighten the mood. Tennessee had lost 34-3 to Ole Miss.

    “I already sold my tickets for this weekend,” Julius said as he took another swig.

    That statement opened Earl’s eyes.

    “What did you just say?”

    “I already sold the tickets.”

    “You’re … you’re missing the Alabama game?”

    Julius paced around the room. “Yes, I am.”

    Earl was beyond surprised at this point.

    “Seriously?” He was at a loss for words.

    “I just don’t see myself having a good time.”

    “It’s Alabama! It’s the Third Saturday in October! Every fan in the state of Tennessee waits for this weekend to get a chance to knock off the big dogs! And you’re going to miss it?”

    There was a long period of silence.

    “When’s the last time you missed a home game, anyway?”

    “I can’t remember,” Julius said. “It’s been forever.”

    “Well, I don’t know what to say.”

    “Earl,” Julius said firmly, “Go outside for a few minutes. I need to make a phone call.”

    “Ok,” he said. “He’s finally going to use his damn phone for once,” he muttered under his breath as he walked outside.

    But Julius wasn’t about to go use the telephone. He went towards the pill cabinet. There was no point in even using it anymore. Pills will strewn around the room. He was surprised Earl made no mention.

    It wouldn’t matter. He downed a handful and gulped some beer down.

    ~~~~


    Nearly thirty minutes later, Earl wasn’t hearing any voices from inside, so he decided to go back in. He took one step in the door, looked at the ground, and stood still.
    “Fuck.”

    ~~~~


    “Patricia, come talk to me for a second.”

    Patricia looked up from her phone and immediately looked away.

    “You’re trying to get me to take you seriously and you’ve got a fucking porn movie up on the TV?”

    Julius paused the film, leaving a very awkward picture up on the television. He hoped nobody would be walking down Hickory Street.

    “I’m going to go to Nashville this weekend.” Tennessee was playing in-state rival Vanderbilt as part of rivalry week, the last week of the regular season. Bowl eligibility was on the line.

    “Do whatever you want,” she said, “Just come back alive.”

    He laughed. “Want to come watch?”

    Patricia let out a squeal.

    “No, you disgusting fuck, I don’t want to watch that with you,” she yelled. “What kind of question is that?”

    He laughed again. “Maybe I should go see a therapist.”

    She failed to respond to his insightful comment.

    ~~~~


    “Where did you last see him?”

    “He was here on Saturday morning. He left around ten. All he took was some beer.”

    “Not even a phone.”

    “Haha. Like he would ever use his cell phone.”

    “Don’t laugh at me,” the officer said in a stern tone, “I need the facts.”

    That shut Patricia up.

    “Hey, doc, come here,” one of the younger looking officers said, “Take a look at this.”

    The older officer took one look at the mobile device and shook his head.

    “No,” he said, “No.”

    The officer was in disbelief. Julius Taylor was a well-known man around Clinton. He was a heavy drinker, watched pornographic films with his windows open to a major street, and swore and spit at every police car that passed his porch. But they all loved him.

    “Ma’am,” he said. “It doesn’t look good.”

    Patricia just shrugged. “Whatever,” she said, “He’ll live.”

    “No,” the officer said, “I don’t think he will.”

    ~~~~


    I could have avoided it.

    I screwed up.

    I was ignorant.


    Those were the thoughts of someone who could have turned suicidal. Patricia Taylor was headed in that direction - fast. She drove as fast as she could towards the office building. She parked in a handicap spot, didn’t even lock the car, and ran as fast as she ever had towards the elevator.

    The elevator was out of order. No matter. She ran towards the stairs, and got the best workout of her life.

    She wasn’t ready to wait twenty five minutes for an appointment. She wanted in now. She begged and pleaded to the receptionist. By the end of it all, it had been the twenty five minutes she would have needed to wait anyway.

    She was escorted into a small, square room with one window - looking out onto Interstate 40. “So, what brings you here?” was the question asked.

    “I want to right my wrongs,” she said, “but it’s too late.”

    “I’m going in the same path he did. I don’t want to fall victim to this stupid, stupid thing.”

    “What are you talking about?”

    “He was depressed.”

    “And I did nothing to help him.”

    ~~~~


    It was a scene right out of a movie. Thirty people, all dressed in black, huddled around a gravestone. It was a somber day. There were thirty people, but it felt like only 10 truly knew Julius for what he was.

    Patricia was in tears. Several men carried the casket over towards the hole in the ground.

    “Wait one second,” a voice piped up.

    “My brother told me one thing, several months ago.” Earl spoke up.

    He looked towards Patricia. “He wanted you to place his casket into the ground.”


    “Me?” She was in shock, as was the rest of the gathered.

    “Yes, you,” Earl said.

    There was a long pause in the proceedings.

    “When I die, I want my wife to lower me into my grave.”

    “So she can let me down one more time.”

  2. #2
    Stand On Guard For Thee Captain Canada's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jun 2013
    Posts
    5,131
    Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo
    Very interesting angle you took with the story. As you previously mentioned, it is missing words here and there to complete sentences and ideas, so editing is severely needed. But that by no means takes away by how much I actually enjoyed what you wrote there.

  3. The Following User Says Thank You to Captain Canada For This Useful Post:


  4. #3
    haaanh Mitch's Avatar

    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Location
    Connecticut
    Posts
    2,691
    Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo
    Quote Originally Posted by Superman View Post
    Very interesting angle you took with the story. As you previously mentioned, it is missing words here and there to complete sentences and ideas, so editing is severely needed. But that by no means takes away by how much I actually enjoyed what you wrote there.
    Thanks. Yes, I've gone through it again in class today and have made some changes. I have to turn in an actual draft on Friday so I will post a revision here. Appreciate the feedback.

  5. #4
    G.O.A.T. Soapy's Avatar

    Join Date
    Feb 2013
    Location
    Miami, Florida
    Posts
    7,329
    Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo
    Just in terms of style (too lazy to like really focus and analyze the content, i'll do it some time later today), your conversations are very choppy. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but like act out the conversation first by yourself (yes, talk to yourself out loud) and then write it down, it'll flow much better.


    [Today 6:58 PM] CountdowNxx : if you think a bunch of overrated thugs running through smoke is better than Osceola planting the burning spear at midfield then I don't know what to say to you
    [Today 11:27 PM] BazeGOAT : I'm gonna enjoy watching the Patriots lose some time in the next month.

    El Duque by BazeGOAT

    sig

    #LetMileyTwerk #enterjameisjoke

  6. The Following User Says Thank You to Soapy For This Useful Post:


  7. #5
    haaanh Mitch's Avatar

    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Location
    Connecticut
    Posts
    2,691
    Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo
    Quote Originally Posted by Soapy(FAM) View Post
    Just in terms of style (too lazy to like really focus and analyze the content, i'll do it some time later today), your conversations are very choppy. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but like act out the conversation first by yourself (yes, talk to yourself out loud) and then write it down, it'll flow much better.
    Thanks for the feedback. I handed in my rough draft on Friday and my teacher's only comment was to "clear up the ending". I guess I didn't make it clear enough about the death and such etc. I'll take another look at the dialouge tomorrow - I'm too tired to do it today.

    Again, thanks a lot for reading through. I appreciate it.

  8. #6
    haaanh Mitch's Avatar

    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Location
    Connecticut
    Posts
    2,691
    Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo Sports Logo
    Got an A. Thanks for your help guys.

  9. The Following User Says Thank You to Mitch For This Useful Post:


Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •