“A Hole in the Sand” by Chiara De Giorgi

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s topic is “The door you locked is wide open”. 

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is currently in Berlin, Germany, doing her best to catch up with semi-abandoned writing projects. Her YA novel “Mi chiamo Elisa” was published in Italy by “Le Mezzelane Casa Editrice” in September 2020 and recently in Turkey with the title “Benim adım Elisa”. Her children’s book “Şebnem ve Schrödinger’in Kedisi” was just published in Turkey by Sia Kitap and in Italy with the title: “Chiara e il Gatto di Schrödinger”.

“A Hole in the Sand” by Chiara De Giorgi

***

“What are you writing?”

“Ugh, I’m not. I’m this close to filling the page with an ominous saying like, all work and no play make Jack a dull boy.”

“Sounds scary. What is it, writer’s block?”

“Not exactly. It’s this assignment about a locked door that’s open instead. I can’t decide which angle to take.”

“Hm, let’s see… The obvious choice would be a ghost story, wouldn’t it? Something spooky.”

“Yeah, too obvious, isn’t it, though.”

“Okay… What about something metaphorical? You know, locked doors, burned bridges, and so on.”

“Bo-oring. Besides, I like burned bridges, but I hate locked doors, and I don’t wish for my evident confusion to become common knowledge.”

“When I was little, my parents bought a hut on the beach.”

“Did they?”

“Yes. I had problems with my lungs, so the doctor recommended I spend as much time as possible near the sea. They didn’t have much money and all they could afford was this thing on the beach. It was really a crumbling hovel, when they got it, but they patched it up so we could go there on weekends.”

“Fascinating. But what does this have to do with my assignment?”

“There was no door, at first, so my mom put up a curtain. At some point, my dad got an old door from someone who discarded it. For a while, however, the place was technically open, you couldn’t lock it up.”

“…And?”

“I loved to play on the beach and swim in the sea, that’s how I spent my days when we were there, and I never wanted to go back for supper. So, to make sure I’d stay inside during the night, my parents would tell me that the place was locked, even if all that separated us from the outside world was a curtain.”

“And you believed that?”

“I was a little kid, remember. I had doubts, but I didn’t feel brave enough to challenge their authority. And then my dad brought in the real door.”

“What happened then?”

“For a while, absolutely nothing. But I grew up and one day, for some reason, I thought back at the time when we had no door, and I realized my parents had lied to me. Of course, I understood that they had done so for my own good, however I felt quite dumb and a bit offended. We used to spend a lot of time together, and we were comfortable with one another, so lies didn’t really fit in, they were like unwelcome guests. I started wondering what else they had possibly lied to me about and, being a teenager, I felt resentful.”

“That sounds more like you.”

“Does it? Anyway. One night I thought, why not? I had stayed in when there was nothing but a curtain to stop me, so now I would go out when there was an actual locked door. It wasn’t as if I weren’t able to unlock it, after all.”

“Makes sense. So, what did you do?”

“I waited until my parents were sound asleep, and just went out. In my mind, that act seemed like the epitome of rebellion, as if once I opened the door something epic was going to happen. In reality, it was all very anticlimactic. Once I was outside, a grimy stray cat ran past me snarling, as if I were going to snatch the fishbone it held in its mouth.”

“Did you go back inside?”

“Not at all! Now I was outside, I wanted something to happen. It wasn’t just a door I had unlocked, do you know what I mean? I felt like I owed some adventure to the little kid who had been stopped by a curtain and a parent’s lie. So I started strolling along the beach. I was barefoot, the sand was cold and wet under my feet. The sea was calm, it lapped gently against the shore; moonlight flickered on the surface of the water. I thought that the sea was dancing to the moon, and that the moon had given it a sparkling jewel, that swayed as the waves rolled by.”

“How very poetic!”

“I know, right? I kept walking for a while, breathing in the cool night air. Then I spotted a child.”

“A child? Out at night?”

“Yes. He was digging a hole in the sand; he was very concentrated.”

“I can’t believe this. What was a child doing on the beach, digging a hole at night?”

“That’s a good question. Apparently, he had not heeded his parents’ warning, and lifted the curtain to get out.”

“What do you mean, the curtain?”

“See, that child… it was me. He explained it all to me: he didn’t believe the curtain could stop him, so one night he waited until mom and dad were asleep and sneaked out. It was a windy night, the sea was rough and he got too close, wishing to catch the dancing trail of moonlight on the restless waves. He fell in. And he couldn’t get out again.”

“Stop it! What are you talking about? Are you trying to spook me?”

“He told me it was time for me to accept that we were dead, and to stop acting as if I were alive, so we could finally move on.”

“Stop this, I don’t want to listen to you anymore.”

“I don’t like the idea of moving on, though, I like being alive – or pretending to be anyway. That’s why I stayed. And now you know my tale.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need a story about a locked door that is actually open, of course. And it doesn’t look like you found my story ‘too obvious’, now, does it? You know, until the last minute I wasn’t sure whether to go for ghosts or vampires, but a ghost seemed more realistic. What do you think? You’d rather I met a vampire instead? Let’s see… Maybe I bumped into this beautiful vampire, we spent a few lust-filled hours under the stars, then she turned me and now I’ll bite you. Would you like that better?”

“…”

“Nah, you wouldn’t fall for that, you’ve seen me out in the sunshine, after all.”

“If you try something like this again, I swear I’m going to make you a ghost for real.”

“Fair enough. In the meantime, why don’t you write the story before you forget it?”

“I’ll do that, thanks.”

“You are welcome. Now I can go back to digging that hole in the sand. See you later.”

* * *

The Spot Writers—Our Members: 

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/

The Spot Writers – “The Grass Is Always Snowier…” by Val Muller

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s topic is “The door you locked is wide open.” This week’s story comes to us from Val Muller, and it is a (modified) excerpt from her work-in-progress Corgi Capers Book 4.

“The Grass Is Always Snowier…” by Val Muller

Outside, the snow swirled. Courtney took several deep breaths. The house had been chilly an hour ago, but now Courtney was too hot, like she felt during gym class. Her aunt’s words echoed in her head: “You’re in charge now.”

Those words were everything she would have wished for—a few days ago. But now, especially with the blizzard, the young teenager wasn’t sure being in charge was exactly what she expected.

To calm her nerves, she went through the checklist. Back door: unlocked, drape open. Adam, Toby, and Zeph would have to come in sooner or later. Side door: locked, just like her aunt and uncle instructed. The last thing she needed was for Sapphie to wiggle her way out to find Zeph, not with the snow picking up. She peeked outside, looking over the sink full of dishes. The snow had already coated everything in a thin layer of white. Just a few years ago, Courtney would have thrown her arms in the air and hurried outside to play—like Adam and Toby were, somewhere—but now she was in charge. She didn’t want her aunt to come home to a messy house, so she turned the water on and tackled the stack of dishes left over from last night’s dinner and this morning’s chaotic breakfast.

What else was on that checklist? she thought as she washed the dishes. Heat: on. Check. Phone: plugged in. Nope. Where was her phone? She couldn’t check now, not with soapy hands. She’d have to find it as soon as she was done. Her dad always warned the family to plug in phones and other devices if a storm was coming. “You never know when you’ll lose power,” he would always say.

Or, that’s what he would have said if he were here. Instead of somewhere tropical. Enjoying a frozen drink with mom. While Courtney was coronated as the Princess of Chaos. It just wasn’t fair.

She stacked the dishes in the dish drain. What else? What else? Feed the dogs. Feed the kids. That was later, of course. Assuming they all came home. Which of course they would. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to stay out in a blizzard, right? She craned her neck to peek out the window. The snow was still coming down, and the thin layer thickened while she watched. She didn’t see footprints, human or canine. Where was her brother and cousin? Where was Zeph?

She took a deep breath. Remember, she told herself, Toby knows the area. He won’t wander far. He’s only four.

Okay, so feed the kids. With that went all kinds of things like don’t leave the stove on, or the oven. Clean up the dishes.

Check.

Speaking of dishes, Courtney had been clinking dishes for a while now, and no sign of Sapphie. Sapphie was usually the first to arrive when a single fork clinked against a plate, always hoping for a scrap or two. Where was she?

“Sapphie?” Courtney called out.

No answer.

Courtney finished the last of the dishes and dried her hands with a towel.

“Sapphie?”

Courtney started for the basement—maybe Sapphie got stuck down there. But then she remembered her phone. It was important to plug that in. If only she knew where it was. Let’s see—she had been playing with Toby in his room.

She hurried up the stairs.

No phone there.

Then she’d gone into the front entryway to talk to her aunt. There was nowhere in the entryway to put down a phone. She checked her pocket again. No, of course it wasn’t there. Where in the world could she have put it? She walked back to the kitchen to look out the window. No sign of Adam, Toby, or Zeph. No footprints or anything. Only more snow.

She glanced down at the counter and saw her phone sitting right there, next to the drain of drying dishes. Was she losing her mind? She was acting like her mom, now, scatterbrained. Maybe that’s what being in charge does to people—it heats up the world with so much responsibility that it melts the brain.

But she was too worried to laugh. Instead, she shook her head and went upstairs to plug in her phone. There, she passed the office computer, where Adam had hooked up his wildlife camera. She opened the camera and looked. Nothing but white piling on white. No footprints, no boys, no dogs.

And speaking of dogs…

“Sapphie!” she called.

Her heart skipped a beat. She remembered the time Sapphie was stuck in the office at home. A stack of newspapers had fallen, nearly crushing her. Sapphie’s track record of staying out of trouble was pretty low. A pit of worry formed in Courtney’s stomach.

“Where is that dog?” she muttered.

She ran from room to room, calling for Sapphie and looking for paths of destruction, but everything looked normal. No, not normal. Nothing about this was normal. Her aunt and uncle were gone, of course, but so was everyone else. Everyone and everything she was supposed to be in charge of was missing. Her brother, her cousin, her dogs.

“Urgh!” she yelled.

A strange chill pricked the back of her neck, but this time she wasn’t imagining it. She followed the chill out to the side door. The side door she knew she’d locked.

It was wide open.

And in the dusty snow that had spread onto the covered porch, two pawprints. She’d recognize them anywhere. They were Sapphie’s. Only two prints that disappeared into a fresh layer of snow that was falling way too fast.

So everyone was lost. Adam, Toby, Zeph, and Sapphie.

Courtney had been in charge for less than an hour, and she had already failed. She thought about her aunt and the promise she made to keep an eye on everyone. Her parents, her teachers, everyone who warned her—they had all been right. She was not responsible. She took a deep breath. Her parents were miles and miles away, in a different climate, on a cruise or an island somewhere. Her cousins were miles away. She didn’t know any of the neighbors. She had literally no one she could reach to for help.

She had failed.

No, Courtney hadn’t failed. This wasn’t over. She hurried inside, put on her winter gear, then took her best guess as to the direction of those in her charge. At the last minute, she hurried inside for Toby’s flashlight and backpack kit. She made sure to close the door behind her as she hurried out into the whitening world, feeling more like a space explorer in one of Adam’s comic books than a teenager babysitting her family.

* * *

The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.ca/