Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise.
You should write one and link it up.
(It’s ‘fun’.)
This is an Ian Devereaux week. Below is the next installment in the serial mystery, ‘the Case of the Missing Fig Leaf’
Previously, in the Case of the Missing Fig Leaf…
Since before he knew what either was, Ian Devereaux viewed life as a jigsaw puzzle. It didn’t take long to notice that many of the cardboard polygons were bent and blunt-edged, taunting suggestions of a time when they easily fit together. Not until the funhouse distraction of adolescence came and went, did he begin to suspect he might be stuck with a puzzle full of missing pieces. Contrary to the black-light and patchouli philosophy of dorm room wall posters, the joy of living was less the journey and more scrambling to figure out life before someone announced, “Time is up, put down your pencils and hand in your answer booklets.’
This week’s prompt word:
NET
I stepped up out of the fo’c’sle, onto the deck, and felt good.
The sky to the east had begun to glow; the ocean was almost flat, lethargic reflections in mercury, mirroring overcast, and so, there was no horizon; the effect was not so much disorientation as simplification: ‘You are here, everything else has not been assigned a location’.
Leaning back against the black-iron gallows frame, I put one foot on the rail and tried to talk myself out of bumming a cigarette; ten years without one, up against the aroma of the coffee in my hand and dried seaweed smell permeating the wood structure wasn’t much of a bet, fortunately the bullhorn speaker on the front of the wheelhouse came to life with a low-fi squawk and a smoker’s cough, “Time to haul back, Ian, time to go to work.”
Knowing better than to interrupt the practiced dance of hydraulics, winches, ropes and a shifting deck, I watched as the crew began the second most dangerous part of the business of commercial fishing, bringing the net around to the side of the boat, up and over the rail and releasing a ton or two of fish and bycatch, the first, of course, being casting off from the dock; hearing myself in my head, I felt the spell that I’d cast over my life seven days prior begin to fracture; it was not a good feeling, even in the fading ink of a reluctant memory.
“I said, I’ll call you when I get back,” the First Class ticket, courtesy of my client, Leanne, was a neat stack of torn paper on the desk in my hotel suite; I frowned away the ‘why?’ that was voicelessly screaming and waited, the abyss growing up from its secure hiding place.
The silence on my client’s end of the line made my stomach drop, sucking the preceding, totally reasonable conversation, down a hole, delicate strands of the relationship streaming behind, like soap froth circling the drain of a kitchen sink; the familiar tug-of-war between guilt and self-loathing pulled at a part of me that didn’t exist, except when it did, and I put the phone in the cradle.
About clarkscottroger
I liked this “delicate strands of the relationship streaming behind, like soap froth circling the drain of a kitchen sink; the familiar tug-of-war between guilt and self-loathing pulled at a part of me that didn’t exist, except when it did, “
Thanks, Reena.
Dissolution of relationships is usually bad, an awareness of one’s participation is often worse.
It sounds like Ian and Leanne won’t be seeing each other for a while, possibly a long while.
I hope not! I like Leanne, a good character.
But, I also like Ian so I can’t quite get mad at him.
I imagine you were chomping at the bit when you saw this week’s prompt word, given your experiences of commercial fishing, and you set up the boat and sea scenes brilliantly.
Kudos for the first sentence which for me perfectly describes the moment of dawn as perceived by the early bird… (especially viewing it across a water POV) … “You are here, everything else has not been assigned a location” … that rare moment when you are suddenly placed in an unformed neverland… it doesn’t last long, and sometimes the same feeling can be had at dusk when the sun sets and for a moment there is no sound or traffic or even birds, just a stillness in the darkening light.
Thanks, Ford. Trying to ‘re-experience life at keyboard’s length’ was a fun challenge. (My favorite saying about being a deckhand on a commercial fishing boat, ‘It’s like being in prison, except you can drown’.)
Such a sensory environment. And, those times when the horizon disappeared? very cool.
The character, Ian?
Don’t tell anyone, but the problem started as I was driving along, looking for a clue to what happens next and that thing about ‘Walking away from everything, despite the gut-wrenching pre-regret’ showed up.
I stand by it’s validity as behavior or character trait or whatever for Ian. (That or I’m paying the price of indulging in the conceit, “Screw what the rhetoric books say about not being the 1st person lead character because the author might not be as interesting to readers as they think”).
oh well, I’m the one who decided, ‘No! Go ahead…tell us how you might’ve behaved, if you were Ian.’
lol This is not looking good.
Interesting technical challenge (to this Six): put the ‘flashback’ first or grab the Reader with the present and hope to convey the transition to the past at the end? Wrestled with the decision, but I really liked the opening line, there was maximum energy in it as I wrote. Not wild about the clunky connection/reference wordage, but that’s why god invented semicolons, right?
Well done as always, it leaves me wondering if Mr. Devereaux always regrets in some way the cases he takes.
Descriptive genius once again. I need to shake myself awake every time I’ve read your entries! Hypnotic, they are. Great six, sir!
thank you, ma’am
lol
one of the keys to the fun of the ‘hop are the multiple inputs/influences and such. I get something from every Six I read.
Beautifully written as always! I particularly enjoyed the contrast between the still sunrise reflection and the image of the energy and noise of the fishing machinery operating in my head. Then, reading the thread, I was amused by your comment: ‘…why god invented semi-colons…’ Where would we ‘sixers’ be without those? ;)
We might be the antecedents (or is that antacids) of the new secret society, the Cult of the (Semi)Colon!
It was (and is) a really remarkable environment, the open ocean. Always different, never changing.
you are the master of the six
Thanks, man.
That second sentence is pure poetry, Clark. Just beautiful. I am there, experiencing it.
I love how you were able to use your knowledge of commercial fishing for this! Great details, great story!
As usual, your descriptive writing prowess elicits a softly whispered “damn” when I read certain lines. I’m with Ford and Jenne as to the 2nd sentence. Most excellent.
Now, about Ian present day! Leanne is still his client and I would posit all is not lost on the potential of their non-professional relationship. Ian, from his perspective has decided he put the last nail in that particular coffin however, I beg to differ. It will be his choice to resist that part of him that revels in the “agony” felt from that perception. That’s my hope, lol but as we all know, the author does not always write a story the way we would have it!
As to writing flashbacks – I’ve tried a couple of times and holy you know what, so difficult! Practice should make it easier however, for this novice writer, the search will be long underway to discovering how to seamlessly transition from “then to now”.
Such a twist and turn of words, surely the analogy king! Well done.