It's An Art | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: It's An Art | Previous Challenge Entry
By Karen Dick
05/24/17
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With a smile, I placed my cell phone on the table. Whoever invented texting was a genius; such a perfect way to communicate with my child.

The phone buzzed, I grabbed it, and searched for the icon to push. Now which picture did Sarah tell me to look for?

Finally I found it and grinned. I will get this down sooner or later.

My daughter’s text said: I just met a new guy. He’s really cute.

With a shake of my head, I fumbled for the correct keys: Bee careful, u don’t know him!

I sighed and tossed the phone on the sofa next to me.

A grumble from my stomach reminded me of the time. I ambled to the kitchen and opened the pantry cupboard. What shall I cook? My fingers drummed on the door jamb as I perused my selection. A box of Hamburger Helper would have to do. It would be quick and Sarah wasn’t too choosy.

I found a small package of hamburger in the freezer, pulled it out, and shoved it into the microwave. After I set the defrost timer, I pushed the door closed, and then returned to the living room. With deep breath, I picked up my phone and flipped it open to check for messages. There weren’t any.

I scanned the icons, and eventually found the correct one.

I texted Sarah: Where r U? Dinner.

Sarah immediately answered: I’m going out with Joe. He seems really nice.

My fingers shook: U dunt no him.

I sunk into the sofa. Lord, please help me remain calm.

I texted again: Is this a good idea? Where did u meet him?

Sarah replied: It’s okay Mom. I met him at the coffee shop by school.

I typed: Where r u going?

While I waited for her answer I set down the cell and closed my eyes. Usually she was safely home and doing homework by dinnertime. Sarah, please text back.

After several minutes passed, I pressed dial. Sarah’s phone rang four times and then stopped.

“Sarah,” I called into the receiver.

“This is Sarah, leave a message,” instructed her voicemail.

“Sarah, please call me back. I need to talk to you about the young man. Call me as soon as you get this message.”

I shoved the cell into my pocket, and returned to the kitchen. I pulled the meat out of the microwave, and crumbled it into a frying pan. Lord, please don’t let anything happen to Sarah.

A sound came from the back door. I wiped my hands on a towel and hurried toward it. With a yank on the door, I peered outside. The wind had picked up, and drops of rain hit my face. I pushed the door closed and bolted it.

My knees shook as I returned to the living room. I pulled back the drapes and stared into the darkness. What should I do Lord? I don’t know where she is.

A city bus drove by and my breath caught as I strained to see my daughter on it. But it went past and continued down the wet road.

My eyes burned as I leaned against the wall and watched the rain. A sudden beeping forced me from my trance.

“Oh no!” I shouted.

I ran to the kitchen. Smoke billowed from the stove. As I grabbed the hot handle of the frying pan, pain shot through my fingers, and I dropped it onto the floor. I snatched a towel, picked up the smoking pan with both hands, and tossed it into the sink. My breath caught when I noticed a spot of melted vinyl. I tossed a cup of water on it, and then plopped onto a kitchen chair.

I stared at my scorched hands as tears spilled over. “Where are you Sarah?”

Then I heard the sound of footsteps. I swallowed, and turned in the chair.

Sarah stood in the threshold of the kitchen door.

“Mom, are you okay? What happened in here?” She moved next to me and placed her hand on my shoulder.

“You didn’t text me back. I’ve been worried.”

“But I did Mom. Where’s your phone?”

She took my phone from me, opened it, and pressed messages. She kneeled and held the phone out.

We’re going to MacDonalds. I’ll be home in an hour.

With a shake of my head, I wrapped my arms around my daughter.

“Oops,” I whispered.

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