Here’s another snippet from Operation Romeo Sierra – and as of tonight, my NaNoWriMo word count sits just over 40,000.
‘Any news?’ Andrew asked as he dumped the shopping on the counter.
Bobby shook his head as he headed out of the kitchen. ‘I’m just going to wake Steve up.’
Scott saw the colour drain from Andrew’s face as his expressions clouded over, and asked what was wrong.
Andrew shook his head and dropped onto one of the kitchen chairs.
‘What just happened?’ Scott asked, pulling out another chair.
Andrew shrugged. ‘Some kind of flashback, I guess,’ he said, still a little confused. ‘I suddenly remembered Sam waking me up one Sunday morning.’
‘Tell me,’ Scott urged.
Bobby was back in the kitchen, pouring boiling water into a mug, reaching for two more coffee mugs he fixed a drink for Andrew and Scott as well.
Andrew began to relate what had happened. ‘It was just after Kat and I had separated,’ he said. ‘Sam was staying with me for the first week of the holidays and it was our last morning.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Sam had gone home covered in bruises after our roughhousing, and it had been another nail in my custody coffin!’
‘Dad,’ the whispered word in his ear became reality through the fog of sleep.
‘Dad,’ Sam said, a little louder. ‘It’s morning, and you said “in the morning”.’
Andrew grunted. She was on his bed – he could feel it moving.
‘Dad, wake up.’
Andrew could tell it was only just light even without opening his eyes and he grunted again.
She shook his shoulder and he wished she would go back to her own bed. Perhaps if he ignored her, she’d go away.
‘Dad, Dad,’ Sam suddenly cried out in a panicked voice. ‘The Philistines are here!’
Andrew shot upright and looked at her blankly, trying to get his brain into gear.
She collapsed on the end of the bed, laughing and slapping the bedcovers.
‘The what?’ he demanded.
‘The Philistines,’ she spluttered through her laughter.
Andrew shook his head. He had no idea what she was talking about!
‘You know… in the Bible, Samson and Delilah.’ She scrambled up onto her knees and began acting out the scene with much gusto. ‘Delilah cried, “Samson, Samson, the Philistines are upon thee”. And he woke up in a real hurry.’ Her arms suddenly dropped limply to her sides. ‘But it was only a trick.’ She looked at him with a big grin. ‘It worked on you too. I’ve never seen you get up so fast.’
That did it! Andrew lunged for Sam and dragged her down beside him. She squealed and wriggled and begged for her freedom as he pinned her down and tickled her.
‘Never,’ he growled through clenched teeth. ‘Not until you promise to give me the most lavish breakfast within your power, and an apology for such a rude awakening.’
‘No-oo,’ she cried, laughing and twisting as she tried to get free.
‘Say sorry,’ ordered Andrew, ‘And that you promise me a breakfast I’ll remember.’
The tickling continued until she gave in, crying, ‘Okay, Okay. I’m sorry and I promise.’
He let her go and collapsed down beside her.
As she scrambled off his bed, she warned, ‘If you go back to sleep, I’ll send the Philistines in again.’
He made a grab for her, deliberately letting the pyjama top slip out of his grip as she squealed and took off running. He lay back against the headboard as his bedroom door slammed shut. He was wide-awake now, and his bed was a wreck! He missed her so much.
Andrew let his fingers run up and down the sides of the coffee cup in front of him.
Scott chuckled again. ‘She sounds like quite a character. What did she end up giving you for breakfast?’
A grin spread slowly over his face as he savoured the memory before sharing. ‘A ten dollar note and some McDonald’s vouchers from the local paper.’
There was genuine laughter from everyone. That was when Andrew realised that Steve was there too, leaning against the wall.
Andrew nodded to him and asked if he had slept well.
‘Just fine, thanks.’
Bobby sat down at the end of the table, a bunch of letters in his hand. ‘The mail came while you were gone.’ He handed Andrew four envelopes and held onto the fifth one. ‘You can open those, but with your permission, I will open this one. It is from Melbourne and has no return address on it.’
I hope you enjoyed that :)
DJ
(c) DJ Stutley 2012
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I always wondered what it would be like to be a part of National November Writer’s Month, and now I know. This year instead of sitting back and reading everyone’s up-and-down stress and triumph stories, I decided it was time to try it out. I launched in with much enthusiasm and at about the half way mark, desperation kicked in. That’s when my writing went from readable to rubbish. By the end on NaNoWriMo, I hated the way I was writing. It made me feel terrible that I was churning out such rubbish just to make a word count target. 
