[stylist] Short Story: "Smart Decisions?"
Vejas Vasiliauskas
alpineimagination at gmail.com
Fri Oct 28 02:50:56 UTC 2016
Thanks. I was originally going to have Charles and Caroline have a sexual relationship but thought that this twist would be more interesting to readers.
Vejas
> On Oct 27, 2016, at 19:33, debby via stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>
> Interesting story, Vejas. A couple of typos, and one definite spelling error, toward the end you refer to Caroline stocking Charles, er rather that she would not, but the word is stalking, s t a l k i n g. I think you should submit it somewhere. Debby
>
>> On Oct 27, 2016 6:51 PM, Vejas Vasiliauskas via stylist <stylist at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>>
>> Hi All,
>> Here is my latest short story. The title comes from the fact
>> that a Smart-Phone is the main focus and is meant to be a bit
>> ironic. Feel free to tear it apart if you want to, haha.
>> The story is pasted below as well as attached.
>> Happy reading!
>> Vejas
>> Smart Decisions?
>> by Vejas Vasiliauskas
>> London, England, 2015-2016
>> Prologue, 2016
>> The man sits alone at a picnic table in a park. He is surrounded
>> by trees on one side of his picnic table and ducks on the other,
>> but he has no awareness of this, or anything at all for that
>> matter. He is completely zoned out, for no particular reason.
>> It is probably just a reaction to all the stress he has had to
>> deal with in the past year. He was supposed to be somewhere
>> else, but drove to the park just to have some peace. He was
>> supposed to be...
>> Supposed to be...
>> Suddenly his IPhone rings. The ringtone itself is nice: it's the
>> Nokia ringtone he fell in love with and which his son downloaded
>> for him. It's the vibration that jolts him.
>> "What's up?" he says in an exhausted voice.
>> "Charles!" It's Helen. The angry bitch he married, it seems of
>> late, he thinks scornfully.
>> "What did I do this time?"
>> "I'll tell you what you did! You were supposed to pick up Cameron
>> from art club a half hour ago! He tried to call you, but you
>> wouldn't pick up!"
>> Charles groans.
>> "I've got him, don't worry about that," says Helen. "But how
>> could you do this to your own son?"
>> Charles doesn't know what to say, how to answer. "We're all
>> human and make mistakes," he mumbles.
>> "I made salami sandwiches for myself and the kids," Helen informs
>> him. "There may be some ham left for when you get home." Charles
>> doesn't like salami, Helen knows it, and he knows that she knows
>> it.
>> "See you," Charles says weakly, then, when he's off the phone, he
>> yells, "SHIT!" Nobody can hear hm; if they did, who, in this
>> messed-up world, would even give a damn? Probably a mother with a
>> three-year-old yelling not to swear in front of her child, or an
>> elderly lady screeching at him that the devil is in him, or
>> something.
>> Charles thinks of Helen. They used to get on very well, they
>> did, for 15 years. Long enough to have a 13-year-old son,
>> Cameron, and 11-year-old twin girls, Ruth and Anna. Even last
>> year, Helen would have reacted more calmly; she would have tried
>> to reassure him that forgetting to pick up Cameron was no big
>> deal. She would not have fed the kids salami; she would have
>> made something, anything, that the whole family could eat.
>> Charles knows that it is his fault, it's all his fault.
>> As he gets up to go back into his beat-up Mustang, Charles takes
>> his phone, goes to the duck pond, and does something he has never
>> thought he would ever do before in his life: he gently throws the
>> phone, which lands into the water with a great splash.
>> One Year Ago to the Day...
>> "Sir? Sir!"
>> The man working at the small sandwich shop is growing impatient.
>> He is tired, and his next customer has obviously put on too much
>> Nautica cologne, much to his annoyance. He could try to overlook
>> the cologne, but the man-by the name of Charles Culvert-is not
>> answering him. This is not because he is a jerk, but because he
>> is glued to his IPhone screen and seems fascinated by whatever is
>> on it. Rolf, the sandwich man, is not sure what to do. As he
>> debates his options, the girl standing behind Charles taps him on
>> the shoulder. She is about 20, Charles probably being at least
>> 50.
>> Charles does look up. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he says, then proceeds
>> to order a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich, jalapenos, and
>> mustard. He has every intention of going back to playing around
>> with his new IPhone, which he only received the day before.
>> Ordinarily, he would have been one of these that would have just
>> stuck to a flip phone, even a pager, but his son Cameron, then
>> 12, had convinced him that this was the only possible way he
>> could keep in contact with his family. He is trying to figure
>> out how to add people into the contacts app.
>> Somehow, Charles notices the girl behind him. It must be that
>> young actress look, the blond hair, the blue eyes, that makes him
>> look away for his new device. And the way she is ordering...
>> "I'll have a pulled pork and salami sandwich on tomato bread,"
>> she says. "I'll have a slice of cheddar and half a slice of
>> pepper jack. I want three-quarters of it to have olive oil, and
>> one quarter to be ranch and more-stard. Please put more ranch on
>> than more-stard."
>> Charles is amazed. He is even more amazed when she turns to him.
>> "Hi, I'm Charles," he says a bit nervously.
>> "I'm Caroline!" Her voice is sweet and confident. "Do you need
>> help with your IPhone? I am addicted to mine!"
>> "Yes, please," he says. "I hate the damn thing."
>> Caroline helps Charles put Cameron's information into the phone.
>> "Do you know how contact cards work?" she asks.
>> "No." He is uncertain but fascinated, and she knows it.
>> "OK. I'm going to send you my contact card," she says
>> determinedly, putting on an enthusiastic smile.
>> Charles receives a text from a number not on his phone, but that
>> says "Caroline Wilson, contact card."
>> "What the hell am I supposed to do?" Normally Charles wouldn't
>> use this language with someone young enough to be his daughter,
>> but he senses Caroline doesn't care. And he's right: she
>> doesn't. She only laughs.
>> "Click on the contact card, go to more info, and hit create new
>> contact. Everything's all filled out for you. Then hit DONE!"
>> Charles does so. Now he has 21 contacts, as opposed to 20.
>> And if it were not for that phone, he would never, ever have to
>> see Caroline Wilson again.
>> When he gets home, Charles texts his work friends, Bow and Mason.
>> "Hey man I have an IPhone, what's up?" he writes in both. The
>> replies from Bow and Mason are positive but basic, and yet,
>> somehow, Charles loves it. Now he can understand why his son and
>> friends love to text and love social media. The idea of getting
>> an immediate reply from someone makes him feel good, like he is
>> validated and cared about.
>> He texts his wife Helen, "I love my new phone!" He watches the
>> "friend is typing" icon. He loves it! Someone is taking time
>> from their day, if only a few minutes, to send HIM a message.
>> Helen is currently visiting relatives with the kids. Charles
>> hates the in-laws; there is nothing wrong with them, but they
>> annoy him, and so, as an agreement, Helen makes sure that he
>> never has to see them but the kids can spend time with their
>> grandparents.
>> Helen's reply: "Hi honey, I'm glad you like your phone, and
>> we're having a great time! You can still have some of the
>> mushroom risotto. We still plan to come back on Sat." (It was
>> Thursday).
>> Finally, Charles texts Caroline.
>> "Hi Caroline, thank you so much for helping me with my phone," is
>> all he writes. Caroline's reply within 40 seconds: "Hi!! I'm so
>> glad your phone is working for you!! What are you up to??"
>> "Bored as hell," replies Charles. Thinking about it, Charles
>> realizes he really is. He misses his family and wishes he could
>> talk to someone. Helen and the kids were having too much fun.
>> Soon he and Caroline began having a conversation about books.
>> By the next week, Charles and Caroline are still chatting.
>> That's all he wants it to be. But he's scared to tell Helen
>> about it and, when she's out of earshot, asks Cameron how to
>> change the passcode. By the next week, the phone itself is not
>> so much an issue as is the topic Caroline has brought up:
>> self-harm. One night at 23.00 in the morning she randomly texts
>> him that she hates her life, she cuts and self-harms and nobody
>> else gives a damn. Charles is woken up by the vibration of the
>> phone, and so, too, is Helen.
>> "Who is that?" she says peeppy.
>> "Mmm," he replies in a half-sleepy state, not really hearing the
>> question but somehow sensing it requires a response. Clicking on
>> the text, though, he becomes on high-alert.
>> "Who is it from?" she asks, seeing the concerned look on his
>> face.
>> "Lizzy." That's the first person Charles can think of to not make
>> his wife suspicious. Lizzy is their adored double niece; the
>> child of Charles's brother Solomon and Helen's sister Sarabeth, a
>> happy-go-lucky girl of 15 raised in a loving home.
>> "Is she all right?" Helen asks, concerned.
>> All Charles can say, still in shock, is "Self-harm."
>> "Oh, God," Helen says, looking scared. "I'll ring Sarabeth later
>> and talk to her."
>> "No, no," Charles says defensively. "Lizzy doesn't want me to
>> tell anyone." That part is true in a way; Caroline doesn't want
>> anyone to know.
>> "No, I'll ring her now," Helen decides, jolting herself awake.
>> Charles knows he is in a mess, but at least his wife is away from
>> the room, and he tries to counsel Caroline. Telling her she is
>> beautiful how she is, that if she needed to talk to someone she
>> should find a doctor. Could her parents support her?
>> Soon afterwards, Helen comes back in, distraught. "Not only does
>> Lizzy self-harm," she says worriedly, "but Sarabeth is already
>> very aware of it. They go to the doctors on Monday."
>> Charles is shocked. Not only had he lied, but how could his
>> happy nice find life that unbearable? At least she confided in
>> her mother about it. Charles hopes Caroline has that comfort as
>> well.
>> Two Weeks Later
>> In the past two weeks since Caroline's self-harm crisis, she had
>> been texting him daily, explaining her progress. Today, Charles
>> is relieved, because she says she is completely cured, and they
>> begin chatting about books again. Luckily, Lizzy is also
>> healing, her self-inflicted injury being an isolated incident
>> related to unresolved matters she was getting counselling for.
>> "Can I see your phone for a minute?" Helen asks. "I'm trying to
>> update Cameron's but it's being extremely slow."
>> Mid-text, but slightly zoned out, Charles hands it to her without
>> thinking.
>> She gasps. "CHARLES! Oh God. How could you! HOW COULD YOU!" And
>> she breaks into a sob.
>> Charles tries to explain. He tells her about the fact that
>> Caroline just helped her with her phone and that he didn't want
>> her even for sex, he was just trying to be a good friend and help
>> her with her self-harm crisis.
>> "You didn't even know Lizzy was cutting herself, did you," Hcclen
>> says hotly. "As soon as she did, she told Sarabeth. She never
>> told anyone else."
>> "Shit," Charles mutters.
>> Helen will have Charles back, as long as she breaks all contct
>> with Caroline. He doesn't really have a problem with this; after
>> all, he was only trying to help her. Her reaction is
>> surprisingly calm and he knows from reading it that she will not
>> stock him.
>> But this is why the atmosphere in the Culvert household has
>> changed.
>> This is also why, on this day in the park, Charles had thrown
>> away the device that has caused him problems in the first place.
>> Relieved that the Sim card could be an entertainment toy for the
>> ducks, Charles drives home, awaiting the ham sandwich.
>> The End
>>
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