Pictures.

“How does this one look?”


I looked up from my dog-eared paperback to see my mother standing in front of the dressing room mirror examining herself, twisting and turning in a tight leopard print dress accented with black and brown ruffles. The bottom of it bound her legs together at the knees and the top had a low v-neck cut, showing too much cleavage for comfort. She turned and smoothed her hands over her belly and down her ruffled thighs.

“Well?” she prodded.

I blinked at her.

I think you look like one of Tarzan‘s call girls, is what I wanted to say.

“You look great.”

She turned back towards the mirror, fancying herself once again, and she discretely checked the size of her rear as she turned.

“You don’t think it’s a bit much? Oh, I hope Roman likes it.”

Roman. Her newest addition to the tall, dark, and sweaty divorcee club. I’d never met him, but if he was anything like the other men mom brought home, he was probably just about as repulsive as the dress my mother was about to buy.

My mom had joined an online group for singles called “Looking4Love.net” and it guaranteed “a perfect partner for every member or you’ll get six months free!” Just the fact that the number 4 had been included in the name of the website instead of the word ‘for’ told me this site was a joke. How could someone fall in love with another person just because they both like butter pecan ice cream and golden retrievers? Love has to be more than just matching similarities.

I reluctantly followed my mother to the checkout where she handed over her plastic visa in exchange for the dress. The cashier popped her gum, swiped the card, wished us a great night, and we were gone. It is sickening how credit cards have changed the lives of Americans. I would know, mine was burning a hole in my pocket.

My mother and I exited the bustling shopping center and hunkered down against the cold on our way to our Nissan. Mom popped the trunk and I ducked inside out of the freezing rain that was starting to fall. Once our purchases had been loaded in the car, we rushed home so mom could start dinner before Roman came over.



Seven knocks rapped against the front door, ripping me from the world of Tolkein.

“Honey could you get that? My hands are full,” my mom called from the kitchen.

No you get it yourself. It’s your boyfriend.

I inhaled and slapped my book down on the ottoman at my feet and trudged to the door. The rapping came again just as I was approaching the door.

“Daelyn, could you please answer the door?” my mother called again from the kitchen, her voice an octave higher.

I frowned and crossed my arms, standing pointedly in front of the door. I could see the faint outline of him through the frosted window next to the door. He peered in but could see nothing. Just as he was reaching out to knock again, I pulled the door open.

He looked surprised to see me and retracted his outstretched hand full of generic looking red roses. “Good evening. You must be Daelyn. Pleasure to meet you, I’m Roman,” he said very politely. “Flowers are for you,” he said, handing them to me.

I was a little taken aback by him. None of mom’s other boyfriends were so polite

“Come on in, my mother is in the kitchen,” I said politely, taking the flowers and stepping back to let him pass. He took a deep inhale as he hung up his coat by the door.

“Mmm, smells great,” he said. I eyed him for a few seconds, studying his attire. Under his long black coat he wore black pants, brown loafers, and a dark gray sweater. His dark chestnut hair was cropped short and spiked up in the front over his forehead. His eyes were an unusual green, and his features were handsome. He was quite nice looking, and I commended my mom on this one. We headed into the kitchen to find mom bent over, peering into the stove, wearing the tight leopard print dress she had just purchased. Her behind was perked up as she stuck a toothpick in the meatloaf that was sizzling on the oven rack. Roman surprised me by averting his eyes from mother’s rump and taking in our kitchen instead. I cleared my throat to let her know we were there. My mother turned her head, her pinned back curls protesting as she realized we were standing there.

“Oh hi! I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, sliding the slab of meat back into the oven and straightening up. The oven door closed with a loud thump. She rushed towards us, oven gloves on.

“Hello Rebecca,” Roman said. He leaned in and gave mom a kiss on the cheek, his smoothly shaven face gentle against her cheek.

“Have you two been introduced?” She looked between us expectantly. I nodded and smiled to reassure her. “Oh good, I’m glad. Well dinner should be another ten minutes, Daelyn honey can you fix drinks? Roman what would you like? Would you like a glass of wine?”

“No, thank you Rebecca but I’ll just have water. Help yourself though,” he said.

Not a drinker either? This was great, considering daddy was a drunk. Roses still in hand, I found a cheap vase and filled it halfway with water. I plopped the roses in the vase and set them on the counter. Mom and Roman headed down the hall towards the family room, probably seeking alone time. I set the table and placed two glasses of water next to the plates across from each other. I liked him so far, but I wanted to be front in center, in case he had any tricks up his sleeve.

Last time mom had a guy over for dinner it didn’t go so well. He had no manners, chewed with his mouth open, and what was worse, he did that weird moaning thing when he ate. I was so uncomfortable, and mom drank a half bottle of wine herself. Mom said she’d be sure to first go out to eat with someone before she invited him over for dinner. I thought this was an exceptional idea. Their voices carried down the hall as they came back towards the kitchen. The sound of mom’s giggling made me uncomfortable. I don’t know if it was because I had no clue what they were talking about, or if it was because I just hadn’t heard it in such a long time.

They came around the corner, mom in front with a big smile on her face. She squeezed my hand as she passed and went to the oven to pull out the meatloaf.

“Here Rebecca, let me help you,” Roman offered, grabbing the pot holders that were on the counter.

“No, no, no. You and Daelyn go sit in the dining room. It won’t take long,” she said, insistently.

Roman followed me as I led the way to the dining room table. He didn’t sit right away, gesturing at my chair for me to sit first. He sat next and folded his hands in his lap, smiling and waiting. I took nervous sips of water as we waited for mom to finish with the food. I guess he felt as awkward as I did because he broke the silence first.

“Daelyn, your mother was telling me that you were thinking about going to U of I next year,” he said, taking a drink of water. A respectably sized silver watch peeked out from his sleeve, winking at me as the overhead light reflected off its smooth face.

“Yeah, we’ve been going on college visits and I really like the photography program they have there,” I said, happy to have someone ask about me for once.

“Photography, sounds neat. What got you interested in that?” he asked, showing genuine interest.

My chest pained as I thought about dad. When I was little he would let me run around the house with our old Polaroid camera, snapping pictures of different things: our dog Nelly, plastic fruit, my Barbie dolls, the kitchen table legs and other majestic things.

When I was 12 he got me my first digital camera and I became glued to it for the next 2 years. Now it’s been 3 years since dad left, and I still wasn’t ready to talk about it. I hoped he was enjoying himself wherever he was, far enough away to where he couldn’t hurt me or mom anymore.

Roman was looking at me, his face wore a gentle expression as he waited for me answer. I was just about to open my mouth and then mom came in, carrying the meatloaf. She brought in a dish of green beans and mashed potatoes on her second trip. On her third trip, she returned with a bottle of wine and sat down in her chair.

“I hope you like meatloaf Roman,” mom said, placing her napkin on her lap. “It’s my special recipe,” she added with a loud whisper.

“Everything looks great. Thank you for cooking, it’s a real treat,” Roman said, also putting his napkin in his lap. I did the same, not wanting to be rude.

“You’re welcome,” mom said, her voice thick. Ugh, she got emotional over the littlest thing. However, having a nice man thank her for her hard work wasn’t just some small thing, especially for mom. Dad never said thank you for anything. Not for working to support us when he lost his job. Not for cooking our meals or folding our laundry. Not for helping me with my homework when he was too busy watching TV, and certainly not for picking him up from the bar when he was too drunk to walk.

“Daelyn was telling me about her interest in photography, is she any good at it?” Roman asked playfully. He smiled at me, and I wasn’t offended.

“Yes, she takes beautiful pictures. What I love most about Daelyn’s photos is that she doesn’t capture the big pictures, like a sunset, or a waterfall, or a rainbow. She finds the little things. Like the way someone’s hands look as they play piano or a dog smiling in its sleep. You laugh, but I’ve seen it,” she said as Roman started to chuckle. “Daelyn has a wonderful gift. I’m proud of her,” she said, quickly taking a sip of wine.

I swallowed the hunk of meatloaf I had been chewing, unsure what to say. Roman looked from mom to me.

“Maybe you could show me your photos sometime Daelyn. I’m no artist but if you’re as good as your mom says you are, you must be pretty proud of your work,” he said.

“Sure, I can, uh, grab them after dinner,” I said, nervously. What was this? I was not used to people being so nice, especially mom’s new boyfriend. Was this the part where he pretended to be nice so I wouldn’t make his life hell, or was he genuinely just a nice person?

We finished dinner and I helped mom clean up while Roman excused himself to the restroom. As soon as mom was sure he had gone upstairs and closed the bathroom door, she turned to me.

“Oh Daelyn, isn’t he perfect!” she squealed. “He’s such a gentleman and he is so handsome. He’s nice right, don’t you like him?” I felt like mom had turned into a teenage girl, gushing about a big crush. I was equally grossed out and happy for her. Finally a man with some respect came through this house.

“Yeah mom, he seems really cool. Where did you meet him? On that website?” I asked.

“No silly, I haven’t been on the thing for months. No I met him at your school. When I went to register you--oh I can’t believe my baby is a senior this year-- he was there helping us parents out,” mom said, rinsing our plates in the sink.

“Oh. Is he a teacher or something?” I asked, frowning.

“Yes he’s a teacher. He teaches Calculus or Algebra or something like that,” she said, squinting at the ceiling as she tried to remember details.

“Oh. That’s cool I guess. Did you get my class schedule then mom?” I asked.

“Yeah honey, I’ll get it for you later on. Let me finish cleaning up. Do me a favor and wipe off the table. Oh and don’t forget to go get your pictures so we can show Roman,” she said, loading the dishwasher.

I didn’t like her use of the word “we”. I wasn’t some showoff daughter. I did as she asked and headed through our tiny house to my bedroom to find my pictures. There were some on my bedroom walls, and ones I was less proud of hanging on the back of my door. I dug under my bed for the large shoebox I kept the really good ones in. I didn’t want to hang them because they were special, and reserved for special eyes. Dad had seen a few, some of the earlier ones, but he wasn’t anything special.

I tucked the box under my arm and trotted back to the dining room where Roman sat. Mom was fixing brownies in the kitchen, evidence of her chocolate fixation. Roman looked up as I entered the room, his hands folded gently atop the table. I sat down across from him and slid the box onto the table. I paused for dramatic effect.

“What’s in there?” Roman asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

I contemplated sarcastic answers but didn’t want to be rude.

“These are my photos,” I paused, checking to make sure mom wasn’t listening. “I really haven’t shown them to anyone, just mom. I know we just met, and I don’t know you very well, but I can see that you make mom happy. Happier than I’ve seen her in a long time, and so I trust you, enough to show you my photos.”

“Thank you Daelyn, that means a lot to me. Your mother is a fantastic woman, and I can see a lot of her confidence in you. I hope that we can get to know each other better and become friends. Deal?” he said. He offered his hand, a symbol of friendship.

I nodded and shook his hand, rough and warm against my own. I could have sworn I saw mom peeking at us from around the corner, but I didn’t turn. He released my hand and I slid the box over to him. He softly gripped the box between his hands and lifted the lid. He smiled as he went through the photos, gingerly setting each one aside after having viewed them. I had opened that box so many times myself and each time I did made me proud of my accomplishments. There were so many random pictures. Some sepia, black and white, red-toned, and regular colored. There were old pictures of mom when I was a baby, funny moments from Nelly, and old pictures of dad. Even though those ones were nice looking, I put them at the bottom because I didn’t want to remember.

Later on after we had dessert, and mom had walked Roman out to his car, I stuck the shoebox back under my bed.

“Until next time,” I said.

Mom came back in the house smiling, her eyes all twinkly. She came over to me and gave me a hug. Her perfume from earlier still lingered on her clothes and it tickled my nose.

“Thank you Daelyn. I really appreciate everything you’ve done tonight. You’ve been so gracious and open and I really do love that about you,” she said, her voice getting thick again.

I sighed, “S’okay mom. You’re crushing me.”

“Sorry,” she said releasing me from her arms. “Oh, let me go get your class schedule, be right back.” She quickly clopped out of the room.

I sat down in the living room, and stretched my legs out on the ottoman, waiting for mom to come back. Tonight had gone much better than I had thought, and I have to say, Roman was a pretty cool guy.

“Here it is,” she said. I took it from her and she headed back to the kitchen to clean up some more.

I looked over it, the teachers’ names paired next to the class: Physics--C. Rutz, Gym—G. Hernan, Art—H. Marrone, break for Lunch, U.S. History—F. Lemmons, and Pre-Calculus, R. Thurman. I blinked at that last name, remembering what mom had said about Roman being a math teacher at my school. My stomach did a somersault.

“Mom? What’s Roman’s last name?” I called from my chair.

“Henry. Why?” she called back.

I sighed in relief. “No reason!” I said. I folded up the schedule, tucked it in my back pocket, and headed off to find my camera.

Sunday afternoon

Turn the corner. A flurry of crunchy leaves,


And head down Perfect Lane.

Arm in arm, closed-toed shoes,

Coats buttoned up tight.

My left hand sparkles, a glittering promise

Of this new beginning.

I like fancy, he likes simple,

A cozy little house is best.

Spiral staircase, delicate woodwork,

Are too outdated for us.

This one has artsy windows and artsy doors,

Cold stones and wooden floors.

I shake my head and we press on,

Me pulling him along.

Crunch leaves again and climb,

Upward to fancy dream homes.

I squeeze his hand tight and he pulls me close,

Our wish remains the same.

The wind winds softly around my ankles,

And he holds me even closer, to his heart.

We stop in front of a big two story,

And turn to face its simplicity.

White paint chips from upstairs to basement,

Windows as plain as day.

A rounded piece of house juts out in front,

An accent of our fairytale.

The smooth, rounded shingles are old,

The house is likely older.

Tilted steps lead to an entryway

Scattered leaves cover the worn wood.

The front porch sits, the way he’d like to read his morning paper.

A small garden overgrown with weeds, peeks out to greet me.

A tall-branched tree sits out front,

Gnarled roots poke up from the ground,

A symbol of imperfection on this Perfect Lane.

We look up and down the street to find,

Clean-cut perfect lawns.

This one needs some work and love,

Something we could both work on.

I look at him, and he smiles my way,

a silent accord between us.

The For Sale sign in front creaks and waves to us,

The numbers are worn and discolored,

Reflecting months of ignorance.

He snatches it up and tucks it under his arm, smiling excitedly.

Arm in arm, crunch leaves again, and return to Main Street.

Look back on Perfect Lane and hope to see it again soon.

Untitled: Chapter one/1

Sitting in her seat at Keshula North High School, Madison Summers anxiously waited for the final bell to ring, signaling her freedom. Only five minutes left. Madison nudged Kathleen, who was sitting next to her.


“Have a great summer,” Madison whispered.

“Thanks, you too. Keep in touch okay?” Kathleen whispered back.

“Of course,” Madison said as she began to pack up her things.

As soon as the bell rang, students came spilling out of the brick building. They looked like scurrying ants as they said goodbye to their friends and sprinted to the buses or mom’s waiting car.

To her advantage, Madison lived two blocks from the school so she had no need to rush out and catch the bus. This summer was going to be great. She would hang out with Julie all the time, and have sleepovers and stay up late.

Madison turned the corner and walked to the fifth house on Cumberland Drive. She skipped up the front steps, slid her key in the door and went inside.

“Hello! I’m home!” Madison called as she tossed her book bag in the front closet. She frowned when she got no response.

“Oh well,” she shrugged. Madison headed to the kitchen for something to eat. She opened the refrigerator and peered inside. Her mother’s yucky spinach dip sat in the front, stinking up the rest of the food. She dug in the back for the chocolate chip cookie dough she hid from her older brother Gabe. Her eyes twinkled as she took the tub in two hands, skipping to the counter for a spoon. As if her mother knew exactly what Madison was doing, the phone rang, stopping her in her tracks. Maddie set the tub down and walked to the phone.

“Hello?” she said quietly.

“How was school?” her mother asked from her desk at work.

“Good, it was my last day today” Madison happily shared.

“Well that’s good news huh?” her mother responded.

“Yep.”

There was silence for about a minute before her mother spoke again.

“Well baby cakes I was just calling to check up on you. Me and daddy will be home around 5 okay?”

Madison rolled her eyes. She was too old for that talk. No girl her age called her dad ‘daddy’ anymore. “ kay mom.”

“I would tell you to get your homework done, but you don’t have any. So, be good. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay bye,” Madison said. She hung up the phone and trotted happily back to her cookie dough. She dug in the drawer for the biggest spoon she could find and speared into the cold, gooey dough. She held her doughed-spoon in one hand as she stuck the tub back in the refrigerator with the other. Licking the spoon, she headed through the house to her bedroom.

“G’day Lemons,” she said to her pet turtle as she walked in. She gently tapped the glass. The reptile curled his tiny head up and out of its shell in response, slowly moving itself in the pool of water it chilled in.

Crunching away at some chocolate chips, Maddie sat down on her bed and stared out the window at her neighbor’s house. There was a boy that lived next door, and he was completely in love with Madison. Whenever she went down to swim in her pool, she would catch him peeking at her through the fence. She would call him out and scare him away, only to catch him spying on her again. He didn’t interest her whatsoever because he was really strange, besides the fact that he was 3 years younger than her.

“I mean seriously, I’m a 7th grader, I don’t date younger men,” she said out loud with a flip of her hair.

After going back down stairs and ditching the empty cookie dough spoon, Maddie went downstairs to snoop in her brother’s room. Gabe’s door was plastered with bumper stickers and ‘warning’ signs. Madison ignored the innuendos that stuck to the wooden door, and went inside. Gabe had cleaned his room for once and left nothing but a pair of socks on his floor. Carefully stepping around her brother’s bed, she went to his closet where she knew he kept his secret stash of pixie sticks (and playboys). She fumbled her hand around on the top shelf until she felt the smooth cardboard box she sought. Madison gently pulled the box down and hugging it to her chest, sat down on her brother’s bed. She lifted the lid and set it aside, peering inside the box. Old baseball cards, gum wrappers, ticket stubs, and condom wrappers created a kaleidoscope of colors, from bluest blues to shiny red. She fished through the box searching for the candy she craved. Her fingers closed around the tubes of sugar and she grabbed a few. Madison carefully lidded the box and put it back in the closet. After making sure everything was as she’d left it, she scampered off to her own room.

Shipwrecked--Part Three

“Where am I?” Jack asked as they rolled through ton, passing tiny houses with perfect lawns and pastel colored cars.


“Baltimore, Maryland” Crybaby answered. “This is the hoity toity neighborhood here the squares live. Where do you need to go?”

“I crashed my ship and I need some wood for repairs,” he answered watching a group of kids spill out of an elementary school, laughing and skipping down the sidewalk.

“Okay, I’ll take you to see my uncle Belvedere. He’s a real swell guy, really knows how to fix stuff. Why he always fixes the cars that my grandma hustles,” Crybaby said.

Jack’s face softened, “Are you a pirate too?”

“Nah, I sing. But my buddies are into that, stealing and stuff.”

“Oh,” Jack said with a frown.

“Here we are. Turkey Point.”

A wide stretch of patchy dirt and grass banked around a small lake. There were dozens of cars parked in the gravel parking lot, dust covering the wheel wells and dirt on the rims.

Crybaby rolled on through, past a wide pavilion with young kids dancing on a small stage. Jack cringed at the music and grimaced with every long burst of saxophone.

They continued on through the park, passing ratty houses and tiny trailers. Crybaby slowed to a stop in front of an old sagging wooden house. The siding was rusted and the foundation crumbled in one corner. There were scratchy bushes and shrubs in what passed for a front yard, and miscellaneous tires, toys, and tacky garbage.

Jack wrinkled his nose at his surroundings, slowly climbing off the motorcycle. Crybaby marched on over to the front door and banged his fist on it, the flimsy screen door rapped against the wooden frame. An older woman in tan overalls, knee-high boots, and wild black hair burst outside. She fixed the duck shaped hat that squashed her hair down, as she stepped from the house.

“Who the…Crybaby! Boy where have you been? You’re worrying your grandma to death over here, being gone all the time,” she said, coming over.

“Sorry grandma. Uncle Belvedere around?”

“Yeah out back working on a truck,” she said. She chomped on her gum and smiled wildly through ruby red lips. “Uh, Crybaby? Who’s your friend?” she said, stopping him.

Crybaby beckoned over Jack who cautiously approached, gingerly stepping over the junk in the yard.

“This here’s Jack. I found him on the side of the road,” Crybaby joked.

Grandma came closer to Jack and peered up at him, her mouth in a wide open, toothy grin.

Jack wrinkled his nose, for once appalled by someone else’s breath besides his own.

“Pleasure,” Jack said, awkwardly sticking his hand in her face for a handshake.

She took a step back and shook his hand. “Good to meet you Jack. What were you doing on the side of the road?”

“Narrowly escaping an attack from a ferocious cat,” Jack said seriously.

Crybaby laughed, “A cat? Look who’s a sissy now?”

“Big kitty,” Jack said outstretching his arms in estimate of the animal’s size. “You have no idea.”

“C’mon Jack. Let’s go find you some lumber,” Crybaby said.

Jack dropped his arms and followed, muttering curse words to himself.

They went around to the back of the house, winding through a yard full of old cars, pieces of wood, and miscellaneous tools. A loud drilling was going on in a rusted old shed. Crybaby rapped on the door, and the drilling stopped.

“I’m coming!” A southern voice hollered at them from within. The door swung open and a tall thin man in a blue mechanic’s uniform stood before them. His face and hands were covered in black grease, and his stained red cap sagged to one side of his head.

“Uncle Belvedere, this is my pal Jack. He’s looking for some lumber,” Crybaby said, patting Jack on his shoulder.

“What kind of lumber? Uncle Belvedere asked looking from Jack to Crybaby.

Jack began his business voice, “My ship, the Black Pearl, crashed into some rocks and now I’ve got a rather large hole in the side.”

“Oh you want wood for a boat?”

“Ship,” Jack corrected.

Uncle Belvedere rubbed the back of his neck. I’m gonna have to order some. We don’t carry as much anymore, and I’m assuming you’ll need quite a bit. Might be a few days.”

“What? I haven’t the time to order some,” Jack complained.

“Well you can go into town and get the wood there but they’ll charge you an arm and 2 legs for it. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to be into hobbling around with one arm for the rest of your life,” Uncle Belvedere said, folding his arms across his chest.

Jack huffed, “I need eight, two by four planks. Also the bolts and screws to fasten it all into place. How much are we talking here?”

Uncle Belvedere’s expression changed as he punched some numbers in his head. “I can give it all to you for 300 bucks.”

“What?! I don’t have that kind of money, I….” Jack looked in his coin purse, jingling around the few sad coins he kept for emergencies. Jack looked up ruefully and said, “I spent it all on rum.”

Crybaby lifted one corner of his mouth and shrugged, “I guess you’ll just have to get a job then Jack. C’mon Jack, I’ll show you around town.”

Jack sighed, zipped up his coin purse and trudged behind Crybaby to explore the wide world of employment.

Shipwrecked- Part Two :)

Jack stumbled through the trees that engulfed him. He opened his eyes as wide as they would go to try and absorb the little light that floated down through the thick branches.


“This is absolutely ridiculous” he exclaimed in frustration. A thick twig snapped behind him and Jack froze. He looked around and saw nothing. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of movement disappear into the trees. Jack flicked his eyes back and forth, scanning the trees. His hand moved to his pistol, unbuttoning the leather clasp that secured it. More twigs snapped behind him. Jack turned. In front of him stood a ferocious looking wolf, his teeth bared, glinting in the shafts of sunlight.

“Good doggy, nice doggy..” Jack coaxed.

The wolf stalked toward him, its strong shoulders gliding under its thick fur. The wolf uttered a low, threatening growl.

Jack tightened his hold on his pistol, turned and ran. With the wolf at his heels, Jack leaped over fallen trees and batted at the thick green vines that obstructed his path. Jack puffed and raced through the brush. Aiming for the opening in the trees ahead of him. Jack hurled himself from the forest, stumbling into the main road that led into town. He landed face down on the asphalt, scraping his hands and knees. Jack lifted his head and his eyes widened in horror as a big black motorcycle screeched to a halt inches in front of his face. Scrambling backward, Jack took in the young man that sat atop the rumbling cycle.

A young male, no more than 21, shut off the cycle and leaned it into park. He lifted his leg off the bike, his tight blue jeans creasing in protest. Jack looked up at him, seeing is own reflection in the pair of black shades that hid his eyes. His hair was greasy and slicked back. He chewed on a toothpick, and straightened his leather jacket as he approached Jack.

The man removed his sunglasses, revealing his deep chocolate eyes, and bent to examine Jack.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Jack stumbled to his feet and brushed off his hands and knees.

“Ello mate, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow,” he said, offering a dirty paw.

The man nodded in response and crossed his arms. He looked Jack up and down, his brow creasing in confusion.

“What’s the matter with your hair?” the rebel asked, chewing his toothpick.

Jack caught one of his dreadlocks as it blew in the wind. He sniffed it and frowned.

“My hair is fine. Your hair looks icky.”

“You got something against my hair?” he asked, at which point he pulled a comb from his inside jacket pocket and ran it through his greasy locks. “This is how good hair is supposed to look, and this is how I wear it. You’ll do good to learn that this is the appropriate hairstyle if you want to look real bad and cool.”

Jack raised one eyebrow, doubtful. The two of them stared each other down for a few moments. Finally the man took a step forward and reached his hand out to Jack.

“My name is Crybaby Walker, good to meet you Mr. Sparrow,” He said.

“That’s a funny name, do they call you that because you’re a sissy?” Jack dared to comment.

“Ay, I ain’t a sissy It’s just my name and you better learn it,” Crybaby defended.

“Well Mr. Crybaby, I need some assistance, can you direct me to town?” Jack asked, looked up and down the road.

“Yeah, I was just on my way into town now. Hop on, I’ll hitch you a ride into town,” Crybaby offered.

He walked back to the bike, hiked one leg over and kick-started the engine.

“You want me to ride on that?” Jack said, pointing to the rumbling hunk of metal.

“Well, yeah. Unless you want to be a sissy about it,” Crybaby teased with a poisonous grin.

Jack narrowed his eyes and stomped over to the bike. “I am not a sissy." Jack gently climbed onto the motorcycle and wrapped his arms around Crybaby’s waist.

“Alright Mr. Sparrow, hang on tight,” Crybaby said. He gave the bike a rev, Jack squealed, and the two of them zoomed down the road into town.

Shipwrecked- Part uno

Hello. I have been in such the writing mood lately, it's amazing. Here is the first part of a collaboration fanfic that I am writing with a bunch of Johnny Depp characters. I had a lot of fun writing Just a Bunch of Bananas, so I thought I would try it again with some other characters. Also, in a way, I am showing my support for Johnny in Alice in Wonderland! Can't wait to see it! Well read on and enjoy, The next part should be coming shortly :) Thanks for the support!

Part One

Jack Sparrow drunkenly crawled out of his captain’s quarters, steadying himself on the smooth wooden railing of the Black Pearl. He squinted up at the sun and pulled out his compass, checking the direction of the ship. The compass arrow spun erratically in his palm giving no clear direction.


“Bugga” Jack muttered, clearly annoyed. He snapped the compass shut and waltzed over to the starboard side of the ship. The boat sailed smoothly through the cerulean ocean water. He looked up at the tattered black sails that whipped in the strong ocean wind. It was a wonder those sails caught any wind at all. Jack headed to the front of the ship and pulled out his telescope. He peered through it, and his eyes focused on a giant coastline a few hundred miles off. As the ship chugged along, he was able to make out an empty beach, perfect for his arrival and anchoring of the pearl. Not so perfect were the razor sharp rocks that bordered the beach.

Jack’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets as he squealed in alarm, “not good!”

Jack sprinted to the wheel of the ship and turned the wheel as far as it would go to try and maneuver through the dangerous submerged stones. The ship sailed on, unable to turn in the strong current and headed straight for the rocks in his path. Jack shrunk against the wheel and held on tightly, preparing for the crash.

The pearl slammed straight into the jagged, granite surface, wood splintering and grating against the ocean floor as it rushed toward the beach. The boat bumped along and finally came to a creaking halt on the edge of the deserted beach. Jack peeked his head up from the wheel and blinked several times before righting himself again. He crept toward the front of the boat and nervously leaned over the side to examine to damage. The front starboard side of the ship was splintered and cracked up the side. There was a rather large hole in the side, eagerly welcoming the water that rushed in with the push of the waves. Jack ground his teeth and headed down below deck. He splashed through the water that was up to his ankle and on his way to the hole, grabbed a hammer, nails and some boards. He struggled to nail the boards over the gaping hole as water splashed in, pushing him backwards. He sputtered through the salty water, nailing the boards in place as best he could. After several minutes, he stepped back to survey his work. The hole was mostly covered, but it definitely wasn’t a permanent fix. Jack huffed. He would have to go into town to get supplies to repair it further. He emptied most of the water that drenched the floor and mopped up the rest that remained.

Physically tired, Jack climbed the ladder back up to the deck and closed the doors behind him. He locked them in place and turned on his heel to fetch his effects. Jack secured his hat, money purse, pistol, and cutlass, and after he had ‘locked up’ and dropped anchor, climbed down from the ship. He leapt onto the soft warm beach, sand caking his still wet boots and slacks. Jack looked around, judging the best direction to head in. He decided to head north, straight through the trees in front of him. It wasn’t the first time Jack had to navigate through unfamiliar forest. Jack took a deep breath, secured his belt once more and strode to the mouth of the forest, the trees closing in behind him

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Prologue
Dr. Madison Summers walked into the dimly lit office and set her coffee on her desk. Yawning, she stepped over to the window and pulled open the shades. A pool of light flooded into the room, making the gray carpet suddenly brighten. Dr. Summers unbuttoned her wool coat and hung it on the black leather chair in front of her desk. As the young doctor sat down in the chair, she picked up her coffee mug. She carefully took a sip of it; a bit of cream and two sugars, just the way she liked it. Madison grabbed the mail from her mailbox and scanned over it. Nothing new…bills…credit card offers… “Have you seen us,” missing ads. Madison put the mail back and leaned back in her chair. The lock on the front door rattled and the door pushed open.
A short, plump woman with medium brown hair bustled inside and hung her jacket on one of the pegs by the door.
“Good morning Laura,” Madison called from the office waving her hand above her head.
“Oh hi honey, I didn’t think you’d be here so early,” Laura said coming down the hall to Madison’s office.
“Well, you know me…always full of surprises,” Madison said sacastically ith a smile.
“Yeah, yeah,” Laura said nodding.
Laura had been working for Madison a little over a year and the two of them were very close friends. She’d been married for 9 years now and her daughter was turning 5 in a few weeks. She and her husband had been struggling to have a baby, but she was the kind of person who always saw the positive side of things, and coming from a southern background, she had strong Christian beliefs. Every night she prayed that she’d someday be blessed with another child.
The phone at the front desk rang and Laura excused herself to go answer it.
Madison went to the closet, took out her white coat and pulled it on. She brushed back her long dark hair and smoothed it into a ponytail. She had dark, dark brown hair that almost looked black, and her soft green eyes were one of a kind. Her skin was a light shade of bronze and soft to the touch. She was a regular beauty queen with a smart head, a clever attitude and quick wit; traits she’d learned from her father.
She sat back down at her desk and opened her top desk drawer. She picked up a photo album and flipped through the pictures of her and her family and stopped when she reached the pictures of her at Lake Winapo summer camp. A young girl leaned up against a boat and a boy sat next to her. They were holding hands and smiling. The picture was of her and her camp friend Andrew. She smiled at this picture and looked at a few more of them.
Madison put the book away and sat back in her chair. She’d been having a lot of thoughts about Andrew lately, but she hadn’t heard from him in ten years. She wasn’t ever able to find him and after 2 years of searching, she finally gave up. She should’ve given up as soon as she met her boyfriend Devon; he was perfect at first but now things were a little rocky, and a little not so perfect, perhaps the reason she’d started to come to work earlier.
The morning flew by with only 3 patients. One had come down with the flu, and another had strep throat. The third was a newborn baby in for shots and as his mother carried him into room one, Madison glanced at Laura who was smiling with twinkling eyes at the baby.
A ring from the bell on the door signaled someone’s entrance.
“Hi. I’m here for the 11:30 appointment,” a man said as he walked up to the front desk.
“Alright hun, let me just look here…ok, Spurkitz, and you’ve brought Lily right?” Laura said to the man.
“Yes, this is my little Lily,” the man answered.
“How ya doin’ sugar?” Laura said, peering over the desk to look at the tiny child. Lily tucked herself further behind her father’s legs, holding onto him tightly.
“She’s a little shy,” the man whispered, running a nervous hand through his hair. He kept glancing towards the hallway, leading to Madison’s office.
“Oh that’s quite all right. You may have a seat now,” Laura said warmly.
The man went to sit in the waiting area and his daughter shuffled behind him, shooting nervous glances back at Laura.
Laura smiled and went back to Madison’s office. She knocked on the door.
“Dr., You’ve got a Lily Spurkitz here for you. There’s a mighty fine man sitting with her,” Laura said with a grin.
Madison’s heart leapt when she heard Lily’s last name, and she swallowed her coffee so fast she burned her throat. She relaxed a little by reminding herself that it could very well just be a coincidence.
“Room one please,” Madison said as she recovered.
Laura nodded and went back to the front of the building.
“Sir, I’ll need to see your insurance card,” Laura said as she sat at the desk again.
“Oh, right,” he said, getting up.
The man walked over to the counter and gave Laura his card. She took the card and his ID, glancing at the ring on his left hand and watched him as he signed the medical form she’d given him:

Andrew Spurkitz
Madison Walked to the first room, telling herself it was all in her head. She knocked on the door, waited, and slowly opened it. As she turned and closed the door behind her, Andrew looked up at her, smiling.
“Hi Maddie,” he said.
She smiled back nervously and the memories of her childhood summer camp came rushing back to her.