"I'm sorry, Joseph. You've developed arthritis in both patellas, and I'm afraid if you continue marathon training it will only cause greater bone deterioration."
The doctor's words felt like a stifling cloud in Joseph's mind. Joe quietly murmured a thank-you to the doctor, stuffed the prescription bill in his pocket, and trudged out of the office.
Before long, he found himself driving into the parking lot of the city cemetery.
Joseph pried his white-knuckled hands from the steering wheel and folded them across his chest. His graying auburn hair hit the headpiece on the fraying seat. His lips parted in a slow intake of air, releasing in gusts.
In, out.
In, out.
Joseph's broad shoulders sagged as he softly shut the Chevy door and trod through the clean-cut lawn. After passing several rows of headstones, he paused.
"Hey, dad." He murmured. "I've got it too. Guess it's just a family gene, idn't it."
Saltwater droplets began to dribble from his gray eyes.
"Dad!" he exclaimed mournfully, sinking in sorrow toward the gray stone. "Dad, what am I supposed to do?"
He tried to remember, remember what dad would've said to cheer him up, as he always did. . .
"Dad!" I asked with urgency.
"Dad, look at my fingers!"
The tall, dark figure of my Daddy whipped around backwards, his left hand holding a razor to his cheek. Creamy foam smothered the rest of his face, and I could barely make out the red lines of his lips through it.
"What is it, son?" Daddy asked, his big old blue eyes popping out at me in concern.
"Daddy, what's wrong with my skin?" I exclaimed. I stood up in the tub, where frothy pools of water seeped off my body and into the drain. Shivering, I hopped out toward him and outstretched my hands.
Those two, big ol' blue eyes inspected the ends of my raisin-looking fingers.
"Now those, son, are wrinkles." He said matter-of-factly.
"Wrinkles! I'm doomed!"
He grinned at me, grabbed a fluffy green towel, and draped it tightly around my shoulders before hoisting me up to the counter top.
"You know, son, they aren't anything to be afraid of," He said while tousling my wet hair. "I've got wrinkles," he said, tracing the lines next to his eyes, "But it just means I've been well loved."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked curiously.
"Well, my wrinkles come from caring about you, and from taking care of your mama, and from working hard at work."
"Really?"
"True as can be. They might not look pretty, but they mean I've got a lot of blessings. Growing old, it just means you've had a lot of life to live and time to love."
. . . .
Joseph's tears slowed to a stop; he wiped his eyes. Those images of his memory played in his mind again and again. He patted the top of the headstone while whispering a "Thanks, Dad." Joe's Chevy rumbled up the drive and away into the suburbs in the afternoon light.
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I really liked this adaptation. You did fantastically. One thing I would recommend, though, is to keep it in either first or third person. The switch didn't confuse me, but could be confusing later on. I loved the dialogue. It sounded very real; you have quite a gift. I felt like the mood switched during the piece-the first section was kind of clinical, and had an older feel to it, while the second had a childlike quality to it. You did very well in that contrast, but it almost felt like your style changed. Just an observation. This is very well written.
ReplyDeleteGenevive,
ReplyDeleteAs always, your writing is very descriptive. It's clear you've spent a lot of time on this and given it a lot of thought. I'm not familiar with the song, but the story seems clear enough. Joseph is an old man now and visits his father's grave after getting some bad news at the doctor. He then flashes back to a conversation with his father about wrinkles. It ends back at the cemetery, with an expression of gratitude.
I really liked the structure of the story. A son (much older now) reflecting on words of advice from his dad. I like the setting (a cemetery and a bathroom). I could really see these two characters.
My initial thought for a suggestion was to change the timing of the flashback. What I mean is to have just a brief moment at the cemetery to begin the story, where Joseph asks for advice, and then immediately go to the flashback. Then close with Joseph at his father's grave thanking his father. But as I read through it again, I think it might be fine as it is. (Sorry for rambling. Good job.)
I like how you changed the plot by having Joseph go to his father's grave after he receives bad news from the doctor. I like how the flashback occurred, and how you changed the lyrics so they sound more natural. However, I agree with Emma that you should stick with either first or third person instead of switching back and forth. I love this story. Good job!
ReplyDeleteWow! This was EXCELLENT to me. You are a very detailed writer. I can honestly say that I felt drawn to it. I didn't feel that it was something i had to read so I could post a comment, I actually wanted to keep reading this. I liked it a lot. Great job.
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