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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Craft (as in handcraft) (02/08/07)
The Crazed Craft Lady

Meg walked down to aisle 4, yarn and oodles of them. She needed to restock the fun fur but she found her mind running back to the fall-out she had with her son.

“Tell me the truth, are you huffing?” she raised the air refresher right to Chase’s face.
“Why do you care? You’re hardly home anyway.” Chase‘s foot tapped in hyper rhythm.
“Son, you know I have to find a way to make a living somehow, seeing that your dad is in rehab again.”
“Whatever, it’s your one good excuse.”
Meg tried to keep her anger under wraps but somehow, Chase’s nonchalance struck a painful chord,” One good reason! Do you think I enjoy this 10 to 7 job, walking the aisle, trying to be nice to these cranky customers when all I want to do is come home and have dinner with you.”
“Have dinner with me? I’ve been eating those lame TV dinners forever. Just leave me alone, at least, I’ve friends on AIM.”
“Look, Chase, I really want to spent time with…“ Chase slammed the door before she could finished her sentence. Somewhere between the tween and teen years, she has lost him. These days, her decibels of reproach has risen with her desperate attempts to reconnect with her sudden forlorn son.

As she stared at the yarn, all she could see was the recent case of a fourteen year-old who died so instantly from inhaling that he was found in bed with a straw attached to an aerosol can still dangling from his mouth. It could be Chase. Lately, her air refreshers seemed to run out at an alarming rate but all attempts to pry always ended up like last night…lots of shouting but no listening or telling. Hordes of mosquitoes seemed to buzz at the base of her head as she grappled with the impending situation. Her arms grew weary and her attempts to put the yarn in its place only produced an avalanche.

Scooping up the bales, she discerned a pair of sequined sandals. Oh no… the crazed craft lady who is always at the store, buying one thing or another for her endless stream of projects. She spoke with a heavy Shanghainese accent and all her r’s and l’s seemed to get lost in the syllables and her s’s sounded like the shrieking Peking duck was taken in for the slaughter. All the workers at the store made detours whenever they knew she was there. She has a habit of going into the details of her project and listening to that can sap your energy for the day.

“’cuse me, I can’t find Ssahara Feemo Ssoft Polymer Clay.”
Meg looked at her and wanted so much to tell her to bug off. She needed to let out steam too. Instead, she offered, “Come again?” like one just coming out of Lunesta.. It took her three attempts before she figured what the lady needed.
Meg dragged herself off the floor and made her way to the storage room. To Meg‘s dismay, she followed right behind…the soft paddling of her slippers now grating on her already frazzled nerves.
“See, I need the clay to make little people for a garden scene. First you have to make them ssoft by conditioning them with a roller or pasta machine and then you gently shaped them. Gently..” she gestured with her dainty fingers, “like this, like that.”
“Great,” Meg thought, “Now, I’ve to stand here and listen to her babbling while my mind is in knots and my arms weigh like two cherries pickers.”
“You know whats …when you make them like that with love and attention, they come out beautiful. Not perrfect, but beauTiffull.” she carried on.

Something about the way she said it…condition, make soft, love and attention and beautiful…not perfect struck her like a spotlight. Right, like how she should deal with Chase.

A fat hot tear rolled down the corner of her eyes and she quickly turned away to erase her any trace. And the Shanghainese lady actually stopped her ceaseless chatter and looked.

“You OK? Al..lright?”

Meg nodded, words couldn’t form.

“You know whats…I can pray to Jesus for you, “she further offered.

On normal days, Meg would switch on her deaf button whenever anyone mentioned God. She had long given up on Him. But today, it seemed to resonate with comfort.

Meg found herself saying, “And can you pray for my son, too?”
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Member Comments
Member
Date
Michelle Burkhardt
02/19/07
I loved your title and description of the crazed craft lady. My favorite usage, "Peking duck off to be slaughtered." A nice story of a single mother's struggle with a real problem. I would only suggest you work on your dialogue. Separate your lines for each person's voice.
I struggle with dialogue too so, I try and look at a book that has dialogue as my guide.
Bonnie Way
02/21/07
Good story. The flashback interrupted it a bit, but you really portrayed the mother's emotion well and definately described the crazy craft lady well. I liked the faith touch at the end.