[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
>> 
>> _______________________________________________ 
>> Writers Division web site 
>> http://writers.nfb.org/ 
>> stylist mailing list 
>> stylist at nfbnet.org 
>> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
>> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for stylist: 
>> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/semisweetdebby%40gmail.com 
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site
> http://writers.nfb.org/
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for stylist:
> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/alpineimagination%40gmail.com




More information about the Stylist mailing list