Scrivener’s Forge 9 – Reveals

Welcome to my response for the Scrivener’s Forge 9 Reveals. These challenges are brought to us by Neil MacDonald, clicking his name will get you more information.Here is this month’s exercise, in his words –

A reveal is a twist in the tail. It can be like the punchline of a joke, suddenly taking the story onto a completely different terrain (the main character wasn’t a person after all, they were a worker bee, for example). Or it may suddenly show the machinery that was driving the story. Or it may make metaphorical and magical connections between events (this is often done by “mirroring” between an event and an earlier one).

Exercise:

Write a short story with a reveal. You may want to work backwards from the ending, as in exercise 8

And now my short story –

I first met him on the street. Although it was a brief encounter, I remember it well. I was rushing down main street, loaded down with dry cleaning and shopping bags, mentally striking things off my to do list when I bumped into him. Our eyes met. His were so full of despair they reached deep into me and stroked my heart with an icy finger. Before I could gather my wits, he continued weaving his way through the crowds and out of sight but not out of my mind.

From then on whenever I was downtown shopping, I knew that somewhere on my route I would see him. A quick glimpse as I entered the dry cleaners, or a long look as he strolled away down the street. I started to pay more attention to him, gathering more details. His hair was long and matted, he looked like he could use a bath. He was heartrendingly young. This made me wondered where his family was and why he was always alone. He was always set on a path that lead him god knows where. With each encounter, he became more deeply wedged into my thoughts. Who was he? Was he homeless? One day I followed him into the park. I sat on a bench close to where he sat. Trying to be discrete, I had a book opened on my lap. I watched and waited curious as to what would happen next. Nothing did. He sat, studiously not looking at me, before getting up and leaving.

I don’t know what drew me to him but I became a stalker. I never approached him. I simply followed him into the park. I would sit close by, never making eye contact, never talking to him. If my presence bothered him it never showed. These silent encounters led to me leaving food for him on the bench. Even the most casual observer would have noted that my small gifts, a sandwich, a burger left behind on the park bench, were intentional.

When I saw him casually walk by my house one day, it frightened me that he had followed me without my noticing. He now knew where I lived, that took out casual encounters in the park to a dangerous new level. With a shaking hand, I let the curtain fall back into place. Behind the security of my locked doors and windows, I watched him walk by, stopping to give the window where I stood a deep longing look. His eyes so full of misery I found it hard to ignore him. Surely, he meant me no harm. Day after day, I watched the lone figure walk by my house. My guilt at living a life of prosperity and leaving him hungry and hopeless grew until I thought I would choke on it. The next day, I stood by the window and waited for him to appear. I saw him turn the corner onto my street. He jogged by every house until he came to mine. At the edge of my drive he stopped, turned and looked directly at me through the window. He bobbed his head as if in greeting. A thousand admonishments from my friends and family ran through my mind in an instant. I ignored them all and threw open my door. I spoke to him for the first time.

“It’s okay,” I whispered to the eyes that held mine. I took a few cautious steps forward. He stood still, only his breathing indicated he had not turned to stone. I reached out and stroked his head.

“Want to come in and get some food?”

That was met with tail wagging so vigorous I thought his butt was going to fall off. The scraggy mutt followed me into his new home with no hesitation, on his part or mine. I think I’ll call him Bob.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the story and my big reveal worked. Please click HERE to read other responses to this exercise.

Cheers,

Cindy