BURNOUT

Saturday morning - I had planned an early walk up over the hills of Taradale. My daily walk is an excellent time for me to think - throw around in my head ideas for my next writing assignment. However, not to be at the present time – it’s raining heavily outside with a southerly chill……….brrrr.

My last assignment involved the use of dialogue. We are given a brief one line story to continue with and there were to be three characters. It’s a very general outline but here is my story. I called it Burnout. Enjoy, have a read and post feedback.



Tyler will never forget the day his Mother stormed into the lounge. Her face said ‘keep away from me’.

Ann glanced at her watch.

Thank God, it’s 5 o’clock.

She walked to the bar and poured herself a glass of wine. The house smelt of furniture polish and vanilla potpourri.

“Hard day was it Mother?’ The brutal sarcasm in Tyler’s voice sprayed across the room.

Ann swallowed – anger filling her pores. Two tight lines appeared at the corner of her mouth. “Who gave you permission to drive my car?”

Tyler shrugged and stared at the carpet - looking everywhere – nowhere. His fingers picked at a scab on his left elbow.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

“Me and the boys cruised down to the beach. It was pissing down earlier. What’s your problem anyway?”

Tyler folded his arms and stared out the window. A slight breeze crept around the side of the house. The grass moved – rippling like the muscles of an animal. He tugged at his hoodie - his lips disappearing in a line of petulance.

Impatiently, Ann moved her weight from one foot to the other. She inhaled. The wine began to take effect - the poison working it’s magic.

Fridays were Ann’s “escape the World day” – lunch with friends, a manicure - a drink at a bar to take the edge off a shitty week.

She reached for the bottle of Chardonnay. Lipstick bled into the tiny lines above her mouth.

“Tyler… take your feet off my coffee table”.

Ann sighed, her angry voice - grey and curling.

“Turn around when I’m speaking to you. My problem is the dent in the car.”

Her face knotted in fury. Resentment hung in the room like a dirty dishcloth. Tyler gnawed at his fingernails.

If he doesn’t turn around and face me, I’m going to slap him.

“I’ve often wondered what goes on inside that brain of yours and now I know – absolutely nothing.” Ann threw her hands in the air.

“Fucking hell, it’s just a car. Anyway, I never hit anything. You guys always blame me. Living here sucks.”

Ann twisted the stem of her wine glass in her fingers. Wearily, she walked towards her son. His long limbs splayed across the carpet. He reminded her of a stick insect.

Tyler - whatever happened to my sweet boy? The kid who picked pansies for his Mother as he walked home from school. Ann smiled, remembering the “I love you, Mum” notes she kept in her sock drawer. What happened? Why are you such an angry young man?

“The car has a dent on the right front panel. Your Father will be home shortly – he’ll be furious when he sees the damage. I don’t have the energy for your lies. Tell me what happened”.

Tyler uncurled his six-foot frame from the chair. Faded jeans hung low across his hips revealing underpants and flesh.

Ann leant forward. She smelt beer and stale cigarettes on his breath.

“My God, You’ve been drinking”. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Man, that’s funny coming from you. We scored a couple of homebrews from some mates that’s all. Aren’t you the one always pissed and falling asleep in front of the television?

I told you, I never hit anything. There were like - Me, Ritchie and three chicks in the car, if you don’t believe me – ask them”.

The old lady’s lost it – going senile. I never pranged her car.

Tyler eyeballed his Mother. Accusation conspired with rage – until it ignited white-hot. He left the room without a word.

Ann refilled her glass.

Robert could walk in the door at any minute. I need time to think. Tyler is so ungrateful for all we’ve done for him and Robert - what a boring man he’s become. Work’s his only interest nowadays. He gives me absolutely no support.

Sometimes, I listen to my own thoughts and wonder – who is that speaking? Sadness sat at her feet.

In his bedroom, Tyler ranked the stereo to high. Walls and furniture vibrated - assaulted by sound. He lay on his bed flicking through the latest “Wheels” magazine.

God, I can hear it now – the old Man’s going to go on and on - blaming me as usual. You’d think I was the only kid who borrowed the car and did burnouts. I bloody know I never hit anything.

Smoking was against the house rules. “Fuck it” thought Tyler. He lit a cigarette and opened the window. The smell of rain drifted from the garden - summer was melting away.

Just like my life – going nowhere – shit fast!

The sky shone black and spiky with stars. The headlights of a car turned into the driveway.

Here it comes, another lecture from” Mr Lawyer Man”.

Robert drove into the carport. He reached for his briefcase. His head dropped and he closed his eyes. He let out a deep breath and stared down at his belly.

A “Petrol head” – that was Tyler with his dyed black hair, tattoo and tongue studs. A 17-year-old testosterone time bomb. He got his kicks out of mag wheels, spoilers and lowered suspension. His son was fast becoming an embarrassment.

I know what he gets up to on Saturday nights - cruising the streets, picking up girls, doughnuts in car parks, smoking rubber at traffic lights. Tyler’s an accident waiting to happen. He needs to learn the rules - life’s about getting a job, paying your way - not pissing off the Police force.

Robert glanced at his watch. Ann must have been home for a couple of hours.

Probably pissed.

A slight frown creased on his forehead.

I hope she’s not bolshie like last night.

A boring “Wordsmith” that’s what she called him when she staggered home from the Club. Thought it a clever – prissy phrase.

Yes, everything’s funny when she’s on her second bottle of wine. –until the tears start. The dreariness of middle age clung to Robert like a suit.

Well, my success and law practice pays the bills for those designer clothes and expensive lunches with her snobby friends.

He sighed, shoulders hunched. Robert opened the door and walked towards the house.

Friday night, thank goodness for the end of another week.

“Ann, I’m home. You in the lounge?”

“How was your day?”

Ann looked up. Her eyes red rimmed and watery.

She’s plastered. Probably been on the booze all day.

Pale and shaky, Ann stumbled. She corrected herself, pursed her lips and planted a slobbery kiss on Robert’s cheek.

When did her mouth shrink - become thin and mean?

They’d met at University where he was studying law. Robert followed the scene in his mind - Ann at the cafeteria with friends. Looking up from her lunch – blue eyes the colour of faded hydrangea flowers. Her hair wild and blonde. A slight smile, perfect teeth. Robert imagined himself swimming through a bowl of warm custard. He fell instantly in love. He wanted to kiss those lips.

Marriage - Happiness for life – what a joke. That got mislaid along the way and I can’t remember where to look for it. Robert shrugged. An overhead light flickered across his face.

God, I feel tired.

He poured himself a beer and turned to his wife. “Ann, I asked how was your day.”

“Great, until I got home. Tyler borrowed my car and pranged it. Lucky he didn’t kill himself or his friends. We need to do something about….” Tears began to tumble amongst words. Ann reached for the wine bottle.

A door opened. Rap music pulsated down the hall towards the lounge. Tyler appeared - his face a map of lined hostility. Clutching a can of Red Bull he slumped into his Father’s chair and glared.

“I told the old Lady, I never hit nothing in her car. How come you never believe me?” His eyes sought Ann’s unfocused gaze.

Ann shook her head. “Maybe we would if you weren’t such a liar.”

“That’s classic coming from you. Ask Ritchie if you don’t believe me. For fuck’s sake - get off my back will you.” He pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

Robert lent over to touch his son. “Let’s chill out here guys. We can sort this out.” Ann’s eyes rolled back in her head.

Here we go, Mr Boring again. Her thoughts interrupted by the shrill ring of a telephone.

“Hullo” Robert Brooks speaking.

“…………I see, yes.” His voice flickered – barely audible. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you for ringing.” Robert slowly placed the telephone down. Eyes – uncertain, injured.

Curiosity and indifference forced Tyler to ask. “ Dad……What?”

Robert turned to his wife.

“Ann, that was the Club President on the telephone. Apparently, you hit another member’s car last night. I said we would pay for any damage”.

Tyler focused on a cobweb above the fireplace. A ravenous silence squeezed itself into the room.

“That floral wallpaper makes me feel queasy”. Ann swallowed. Her mouth a cocktail of bitterness and bile. Tears broke into tributaries and rolled down her face.