Poet Lu

In honor of seeking freedom from years of consuming and too much believing in what 'they' said about proper writing, the following is unfinished, imperfect, version of something that may or may not continue and may or may not contain too much frivolous dialogue that does not drive a story anywhere. Ah yes.

Digital bedside clock shows the part of the world in which this scene begins is nearing midnight, and this part of the world this scene hails from does not observe a clock-changing ritual.

Mention of the weather is not background setting but relevant and said weather highlights rain. Slight temperature drop and the rain would be sleet. Winds feel comfortable enough to come and go as they please.

So it was around midnight when Sarah entered the bedroom, began to dress for bed, which her husband Adam had already done. Sarah seemed to be in a state of checking to see how Adam was feeling; whether and to what extent she ought to talk about the change that had come, or more correctly the change she had brought home without consulting Adam. Well of course they would have to talk about it, because this change, or the personification of this change was just down the hallway, sleeping soundly in the spare bedroom.

“Thank you for understanding. I know this was abrupt. I always want to respect your disdain for surprises. But I couldn’t leave her out there."

“Hey it’s no problem. We have plenty of space and..." As the ellipses indicate, Adam's audible words trailed off but his private silent words were quite awake and alive, and they were to the effect of, 'even if my territorial nature felt threatened, I hope a bigger version of myself would have to agree that you' and then Adam's words resurfaced into audible speech, saying, "I mean just the little I heard, I can’t imagine how someone - family no less - could treat their own- so of course you could not leave her out there. Especially a night like this.” Adam returned to silence, yet without words, until once more, with, “Sure I can appreciate Hey you are legally adult now, so get out and... but this seems different, unnecessarily severe or something.”

“Hangover cultural mores. Some bring stronger ties than others – in her case – Lu, her name, or what she likes to be called – in Lu’s case, her lineage goes to deep roots in the rural provinces.”

“Rural provincial customs. Ouch. I like to hope had they seen the state she -”

“Lu.”

“Right. Lu. Had they seen the state their Lu was in… I haven’t computational skills. I know computational is not the best word, but I don’t want to hold up the story more than I probably already did.”

"She'd not slept in days."

Adam shuddered at the recall of a dark stretch of life when he experienced sleep deprivation. He had known hunger; being broke. Being broke; being hungry, widely understood as dire hardships. Adam was glad those times were a brief historic period in his life. Oft overlooked was sleep deprivation.

“Sleep deprivation. Awful. When all you want is to sleep. But no place to sleep or no peace for the sleeping. One day is tough but tolerable. When you get into two or three days. When you can’t get rest…”

Yet another shudder.

The bedroom window demonstrated continuance of rain; or not even continuance, a weak word in this instance, continuance; more like a surge, more like the rain may represent continuance and would’ve been happy to remain in that tempo, except the wind, yes it was the wind breaking continuance, or rendering continuance a frail word choice. Anyway, the wind took charge and forced the two who were discussing the night’s dramatic turn in the form of she who had rescued their now-house-guest Lu from the streets and the man playing her spouse; forced them to understand what their new house guest would be enduring were she not now within the safe and warm embrace of this house.

Now the two were not fully aware the extent of dominance the words Shudder and Continuance had assumed since the first words were conjured.

Yet Adam at least knew enough to aim a squint towards the ceiling. And then Adam said, “though I vividly recall that time I suffered sleep deprivation, I do not recall shuddering this much, or having the word Shudder so near to my grasp for usage.”

“I think it is safe to say our dear Lu would know shivering. Shivers and shudders are likely siblings or close cousins. I also think the more you think or use words like shudder and I use shiver, the more we will be conscious of our shivering and shuddering.”

"Probably doesn't help to add Continuance to what is already a volatile enough mix."

Sure enough a thunderclap boomed and a mere second later the window pane was as though itself was made of light. The shuddering of the house was not imagination.

“As I thought."

"Excuse me?"

"And as you said. Hope it didn't startle Lu to the point - don’t want to use that word, don’t want to use it, but I see no option. You have until the end of this sentence to -”

“Happy to help, even if it is to save your word usage with interjection. And while you are the one more inclined to thinking like a betting man, I will throw out that I bet she is so sound asleep… even if she was aware, I would add a bet that she noted her surroundings; warmth of bedding, softness of pillow, your slate gray USA sweatshirt cocoon; she will know she is safe and will sink into that precious sleep she has not known.”

Dialogue was put on pause as the rain returned to its legendary sedative rhythm.

Adam’s perspective was presenting many an avenue of subject matter but he feared traveling most of them, and besides the digital bedside clock showed it was past his usual hour, at least since he had entered the silvery stage of life.

Sarah saved him the trouble.

“As long as I live I will never forget the way she looked at me when I insisted she tell me if she had no place to sleep. Her admittance she had no such place. Not wanting to admit it. Having to admit it. Seeing I truly meant not harm but help. Nothing to be ashamed about. The shame in battle with relief when I again insisted she come with me. Nor will I forget noticing the notebook in her lap. Oh she writes such exquisite poetry.”

“I was going to say, and I knew not how to delicately say it, but I was going to say, even in her frazzled condition, her natural beauty is obvious; you know what I mean. Who knows what species of predator you saved her from. You know what I mean. I don’t want to stereotype anyone, nor do I care to focus on superficial characteristics like physical attractiveness of the female persuasion. I mean she could as easily be a magazine model as a poet.”

“She cannot help but be either. Oh and the saddest part? Here she was sitting all alone outside that convenience store, and not only did she have nothing else but her notebook with her exquisite poetry, but she had no pen.”

“She had no pen? A poet without a pen?”

“She had no pen. A poet without a pen.”

Sarah’s echoing line was like the signal announcing any further dialogue would be overkill. Adam would not assume to read Sarah’s mind but he knew that last line about Lu having no say in her natural attributes coupled with the Sarah’s imagery of the lost Lu sitting outside in the cold and rain, legs bunched to her chest, doing her best to protect her most precious treasure in the form of a notebook wherein she wrote her poetry. Poetry was all she had. Yet she did not have a pen.

This night Sarah took her in and as long as Lu might stay she would need not worry about having no pen.

Adam would be the first to admit knowing little of the technical workings of poetry, but he could appreciate adept usage of words. He would consider himself a diction and syntax man. And weak for qualities lyrical, musical. Appreciation for words reading like lyrics or possessing, evoking, qualities akin to music, such as a lilt. Adam went into sleep with the Poet without a Pen line and awakened to bacon, rather the scent of it, of bacon. Joining the bacon scent were two feminine voices: chatty, lively, giggly.

Adam would’ve not expected to see the same Lu this morning as he first saw last night. But neither could he have predicted the starkness of the contrast. The Lu Adam first saw was defeated. This Lu was vibrant. Sarah just set down two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, tomatoes.

"We left a little bacon for you, but you will have to make your own eggs."

"And slice my own tomato?"

"Afraid so."

Sloshing coffee giggle drew Adam’s attention to Lu in what once was Adam's slate gray USA sweatshirt. She was now the true owner. Newly clean thumb swiped at toast, bacon bits, crumbs.

"I've told Adam about your exquisite way with poetry."