Cleaning Day

Write at the Merge; Week 14

The Prompts:  This week, one of your offerings is the phrase “cellar door”. “Cellar door” is considered a perfectly euphonic phrase, some say the most beautiful in the English language.

I first heard it expressed as so in the film Donnie Darko, which led me to the following image for the other half of the prompt.

Mary worked the padlock free and pulled the cellar door open.  She'd put this off long enough.  Duke raced down the stairs, plumed tail waving, as she hunted for the light switch.

She could hear the dog snuffling below as she flipped the lights on and descended the wooden steps.  when she reached the floor, she saw Duke had made himself comfortable on an old blanket laying next to John's work table.

"You spent a lot of time down here with him, didn't you, boy."  Mary began sorting through the bits and pieces littering the table.  John had loved his model planes.  There were wings, wheels, and tiny rudders.  his tools had been miniature versions of  everyday tools.

From the floor beams that made up the ceiling hung dozens of completed models.  She gently tapped a propeller and set it spinning.

John had brought his son from his first marriage down here every other weekend until the boy had grown into a young man.  They'd spend hours together, John, the boy, and the dog.  Mary smiled sadly at the memory.  She knew she couldn't just throw everything out, John had taken such care with his hobby.

She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket, quickly tapping through her contacts, she hit dial.  John Junior's wife answered, Mary took a breath, "Hi, Elise?  This is Mary, John's step..."

"Mary!  Oh my gosh, how are you?  It's so good to hear from you!" Elise gushed, then Mary heard her muffled voice as she covered the phone, "Johnny, John!  It's Mary...yes, Mary!"

"Mary?  It's John, how are you doing?  I'm so sorry I haven't stopped by, I just..."

Mary finally spoke, "I'm doing okay, John.  And I understand, I never expected a visit."  She took a breath, "But, I could really use a favor right now."

"Of course, Mary, how can I help?"

"Well, I'm trying to clean up the cellar, and I honestly don't know what to do with your Dad's planes."  Mary continued, "I don't want to throw them out.  Are you interested in them, or know someone?"

"Wow, Dad's planes."  Johnny hesitated, "I would love to have them, but, Mary?"

She waited for the rebuff, "It's okay, if..."

"Mary, could Elise and the boys and I, if it's okay, all come over and help you with them?  The boys always loved playing with Duke.  He's doing okay, isn't he?"

Mary laughed, the first good laugh in more than a year. "Duke is doing great, and I would love for all of you to come by.  Any time."

Duke lay on the floor at her feet, one ear cocked, his tail thumping as though giving his approval.

The Jog

 100 words inspired by the song , I Won’t Back Down, by Tom Petty and Deb.

Mary and Duke are old friends, you can read more about them at  Vigil and Each Alone and New Beginning


He'd lagged behind, sniffing a tree trunk, investigating the innards of a shrub.  The sound of rushing feet attracted his attention.

He watched with mild interest as the strange man knocked her down.  Head cocked and tail wagging, he tried to grasp this new game. Until he caught the scent of her fear.

 Instinct launched him across the grass to the struggling bodies.  his teeth grasped the male's arm and pulled.  The man screamed and swung at his head. He didn't back down. Another lunge and deep growl convinced the man to leave.

 "Good Duke!" Mary sobbed into his fur. 

New Beginning

Mary politely refused invitations to parties.  Opting for a quiet night and light reading on the couch.

It was dark when the wet nose of John's dog nuzzled her awake, tail thumping expectantly.

"Really, Duke?" The tail thumped faster.

With a sigh Mary slipped into shoes and coat. 

Snow had fallen while she'd napped. Duke shuffled through the new fall, finally coming up with a frisbee, idle since John's death. 

Duke offered the old toy to her.

In the distance, a church bell tolled twelve.

She accepted the disk and threw it for the excited dog.

"Happy New Year, boy."

My take on the song.  The song is Same Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg:

Each Alone

I couldn't just leave Mary and Duke hanging.     




     Mary dragged herself toward the front door.  It had been an exhausting day, all she wanted was a hot shower and her bed.  She needed to rinse away the odor of barely concealed decay that permeated the funeral home.  Then she needed to be unconcious.

    She reached for the doorknob. Mary gazed at the door of the house where they'd spent so much time together.  On the other side of that door was loneliness.
 
    Then she saw the dog. Duke still stood watch at the front window, waiting.  He glanced at her momentarily, then looked around and beyond.  He was always John's dog, her only interaction with him had been keeping him off the furniture.

     Finally, closing her eyes, Mary opened the door and stepped into the empty house. Duke wagged his tail briefly, acknowledging her entrance, his eyes still focused outside. Mary sighed and shuffled toward the living room.

     She wavered a moment, lost in her own home. There was no routine for this new chapter of her life. She sat, back rigid, on the edge of the sofa, still clutching her purse. Her memories of John drifted on the tears puddling behind her lashes.

     Mary hadn't seen Duke come into the room. He whined softly as he sat in front of her.  She supposed he was hungry, or needed to go out.  She laid aside her purse and forced herself to her feet.

    In the kitchen she found Duke's dry water dish.  The sound of the water filling the bowl echoed in the dark kitchen. She set the dish in front of the dog, then returned to the edge of the sofa.  Without the purse, her hands clutched themselves.

    Duke stood in front of her again.  Mary drew a breath, she wasn't ready to deal with his needs.  She looked away, he leaned into her legs with sigh.  Her drawn breath released a flood of loss and frustration.  The tears broke through her exhaustion.

    She felt warmth against her shoulder, could smell a lingering hint of John's aftershave in the heavy fur.  Duke sat beside her on the forbidden sofa, his eyes focused on hers.  Mary wrapped her arms around the dog and cried her pain into his neck.  He sat quietly beside her until she could cry no more.

     Mary, too tired to move, fell asleep, curled into the corner of the sofa. Duke cast one final look at the front door, then drifted to sleep beside her.



I linked up with a Story Dam prompt: Write fiction or non-fiction, tell us what lies on the other side of the door.