Lucid Waking

Archive for February 4th, 2007

Rejection and Acceptance (Part II)

           Wednesday dragged forward torturously like a student being brought to detention. His mother had heard of his calling himself in sick and had decided to monitor his attendance by allowing him no phone privileges unless someone called him and dropping him off and picking him up from school. By the time three-thirty rolled around, Philip had almost lost his patience.
           “Mom,” he said throwing his backpack to the backseat and getting in. “Can you drive me to the train station? Tom said that he was performing at the Metro downtown and I promised him I would be there.”
           “Well it depends how much homework you have,” she said glancing at him from the rear-view mirror.  “Once you’re done with your homework you can go, but I’m not driving you now.”
           He sighed. “I can finish it really quickly when I get home.”
           “There is no way that I’m staying up with you past midnight again.”
           “You don’t have to stay up, I can finish it on my own.”
           “Philip, you’re not going and that’s final. We’ll talk about this again when you’re done with your homework.”
           Philip looked at his watch nervously. Now that he was stuck at home, the time seemed to fly by too fast for him to comprehend. He looked at his watch again: four o’clock. His mother was going through the mail and he heard the ripping of paper and crinkle of envelopes as she flipped through the bills. He snuck past into the living room where he grabbed his coat and went to her office. At the side of the room was a door and he exited the house and snuck to his bike. Gently unlocking it, he carried it out of the service door in the garage and quietly locked everything back up again. As quietly as possible he snuck past the kitchen window and sped his bike down the driveway towards the train station.

           Daphne was just about locked up for the day when a rosy-cheeked, blue-haired boy ran into her office.
           “Sorry,” he said and promptly sat down at the chair across from her desk.
           She smiled. “Well, I see you have a new technique for squeezing into my schedule. I’ve also noticed,” she said handing back his transcript, “that you have gone to just about every editor on this floor for opinions.”
           “Did you read it?” he stuttered despite the growing pit in his stomach.
           She paused. “I haven’t heard great things about your writing. Perhaps it would be best if you take a class at school or take lessons from someone I know.” She pulled out a small contact card from a Rolodex on her desk and handed it to him. “I’ve known him for a long time and he’s been very successful in the writing industry. Call him and tell him I recommended you.”
           Philip stared at the card, conflicted. “Thank you,” he said standing up and extending his hand to shake hers.
           She took it and gave it a hearty shake. “Don’t be nervous. You have a lot of determination and potential, just keep at it.”
           He nodded and left the building hoping that his mother wouldn’t be too upset when he got home.