Miss McCaffrey – a short story about a boy and his after school lessons…c’mon we all know where THIS is going..
This is still rough rough rough draft but i figured that I want to put something out on the blog… something to keep momentum going. Like a shark constantly swimming, I feel a need to keep producing output.
This ‘story’ is still coming together in my head. Its been in progress for a couple of weeks but I haven’t really gotten around to proofing it. So, I think that if I clean it up a bit, and proof as i go… I will serialize it and post a couple of chapters each Wednesday. How does that sit with you blog readers? Ready for a weekly installment short story?
It was definitely a sense of mission that enveloped Miss McCaffrey that early day in June. It was as if she had finally resolved some conflict within her, and committed to some great undertaking. I look back to it now, now that I have the vocabulary of an educated person, the understanding of an adult, and the experience of being a ‘real’ man, the importance of the lesson my teacher was (committed) to instill within me. But then, what does a boy of seventeen know about commitment and resolve. At that time I just knew that I was asked to stay behind while the rest of the class was dismissed.
“Jeremy, please stay. I’d like to have a word with you” Miss McCaffrey said as everyone was hustling out the door from their last class that Friday afternoon.
“Yes Miss McCaffrey” I replied as I straightened up the books on my desk and turned to see her.
She sat at her desk. Her short black curly hair stood quite pronounced against her alabaster skin. I swear her skin must never have seen sunlight. The lightness of her skin only highlighted the red pouting lips and ice blue eyes behind the black reading glasses. I could feel the tightness in my pants as I grabbed a spiral notebook to hide it behind.
“I wanted to go over the Hemingway assignment with you.”
Since January she had been tutoring me with special assignments studying themes in American lit. She told me that she was impressed with my strong writing ability and wanted me to explore and write about some different passages and vignettes in works. I had finished writing my thoughts on “the snows of Kilimanjaro” and the new book she gave me was much more challenging.
“I’m having the same trouble with this one as I did with “Kilimanjaro” but even more so. They are both easy enough to read, but as I didn’t quite understand the subtext of “Kilimanjaro”, with “Eden” I am not quite sure I’m understand the text. I can read it, but I’m not sure I get it”
“The European locations and customs can be a bit challenging, that’s why I gave it to you. Why don’t you drop by my house tomorrow before noon and we’ll go over your progress” she offered.
“Ok, I’ll be there” I said and made a dash for the bus.