sometimes, but they allowed him far more than some of his school friends, who were punished, reined in and some even abused. He had it good, considering. No, he wasn’t going to commit suicide. He was not the type. No way, no how!
Across from him, perched on the roof of his neighbour’s house, an owl watched him, staring at the juvenile being wrestling with things meant for adults. It did not move, apart from the occasional blink, giving it the impression of understanding Doug’s thoughts. It made the young lad smile just slightly, and he went back into his room and closed the windows, basking in the pale blue of the aquarium.
CHAPTER NINE
Norman signed the contract with Cillian Construction Co . with a warmth in his chest he had not felt in a long time. It was a good one too, a good advance for his product purchases and a sturdy payment contract for his own income. Things were looking up for him and his business. He put the pen down on the kitchen table and carefully placed the papers back into the A4 envelope it came in and his eye caught Jean outside in front of the window, her shadow shifting in the late afternoon sun as she watered the plants she grew next to the exterior wall to make the kitchen window look more homey. Norman loved that about his wife. No matter the circumstances, she always tried to make things better – better looking and more pleasant.
It had been some time since they really spoke and he went to the window, making a silly face from the other side and she laughed without a flinch. Behind her smile she hid her pleasant surprise at his cheer, but she wasted no time in playing along, lifting the hose up to the window and splashing the strong current of water against the hard surface of the window. The sudden thundering noise started Norman and he jumped back from reflex, laughing at his unfounded fright.
She came into the kitchen, dusting her hands on her shirt and checking the fridge for a beer.
“You’re in a good mood,” she smiled at Norman as she took two beers from the shelf and popped them open. The sun illuminated her hair and she looked almost as young as the day they met. Norman explained that he had closed a good deal today to provide a well-known construction company with all the plumbing for its new restoration project. Jean yelped and jumped forward, embracing her husband tightly and they sat down at the table, just talking about this and that, nothing in particular, but it felt good to be truly present in each other’s company. From the upper floor came a noise of grunge guitars and a less than capable singer’s squeals and both Jean and Norman kept quiet for a second. They looked up and shook their heads as they drank.
“You know,” said Jean after drinking her beer down half a bottle in one go, “If I could make a wish, it’d be for Doug to find out what real music sounds like.”
“Amen,” said Norman, raising his bottle in a toast.
In the late afternoon sun, young Douglas sat reading on his bed, a homework project in English literature by the eccentric and sultry Ms. Grace. Oh, the countless hours during sleep-overs he, Mick and Thompson had spent discussing every inch of her was impossible to measure. Ms. Grace was the epitome of teenage desires and she knew it, but her charisma outweighed her good looks by miles and it was her personality, more than anything, that held the attention of her students, even if they did not notice. Many parents disproved of her enticing teaching techniques, others found her unwavering will to enlighten the new generation with the beauty of classic poetry and prose to be most welcome, no matter what her methods.
Of course Doug and his friends didn’t care what her intentions were or the outcome of her assignments as long as they could eyeball her voluptuous ass as she paraded through the rows of desks from front to back and back to front in English class. She had them wrapped around her finger,
Across from him, perched on the roof of his neighbour’s house, an owl watched him, staring at the juvenile being wrestling with things meant for adults. It did not move, apart from the occasional blink, giving it the impression of understanding Doug’s thoughts. It made the young lad smile just slightly, and he went back into his room and closed the windows, basking in the pale blue of the aquarium.
CHAPTER NINE
Norman signed the contract with Cillian Construction Co . with a warmth in his chest he had not felt in a long time. It was a good one too, a good advance for his product purchases and a sturdy payment contract for his own income. Things were looking up for him and his business. He put the pen down on the kitchen table and carefully placed the papers back into the A4 envelope it came in and his eye caught Jean outside in front of the window, her shadow shifting in the late afternoon sun as she watered the plants she grew next to the exterior wall to make the kitchen window look more homey. Norman loved that about his wife. No matter the circumstances, she always tried to make things better – better looking and more pleasant.
It had been some time since they really spoke and he went to the window, making a silly face from the other side and she laughed without a flinch. Behind her smile she hid her pleasant surprise at his cheer, but she wasted no time in playing along, lifting the hose up to the window and splashing the strong current of water against the hard surface of the window. The sudden thundering noise started Norman and he jumped back from reflex, laughing at his unfounded fright.
She came into the kitchen, dusting her hands on her shirt and checking the fridge for a beer.
“You’re in a good mood,” she smiled at Norman as she took two beers from the shelf and popped them open. The sun illuminated her hair and she looked almost as young as the day they met. Norman explained that he had closed a good deal today to provide a well-known construction company with all the plumbing for its new restoration project. Jean yelped and jumped forward, embracing her husband tightly and they sat down at the table, just talking about this and that, nothing in particular, but it felt good to be truly present in each other’s company. From the upper floor came a noise of grunge guitars and a less than capable singer’s squeals and both Jean and Norman kept quiet for a second. They looked up and shook their heads as they drank.
“You know,” said Jean after drinking her beer down half a bottle in one go, “If I could make a wish, it’d be for Doug to find out what real music sounds like.”
“Amen,” said Norman, raising his bottle in a toast.
In the late afternoon sun, young Douglas sat reading on his bed, a homework project in English literature by the eccentric and sultry Ms. Grace. Oh, the countless hours during sleep-overs he, Mick and Thompson had spent discussing every inch of her was impossible to measure. Ms. Grace was the epitome of teenage desires and she knew it, but her charisma outweighed her good looks by miles and it was her personality, more than anything, that held the attention of her students, even if they did not notice. Many parents disproved of her enticing teaching techniques, others found her unwavering will to enlighten the new generation with the beauty of classic poetry and prose to be most welcome, no matter what her methods.
Of course Doug and his friends didn’t care what her intentions were or the outcome of her assignments as long as they could eyeball her voluptuous ass as she paraded through the rows of desks from front to back and back to front in English class. She had them wrapped around her finger,
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