Short Stories
Posted: Thu Mar 28, 2013 1:27 amI wanted to do a picture of Trip and his sister Elizabeth. I based it on an older drabble of mine, but wanted to expand the story. I didn't know where to put it, so I hope this is okay.
Pumpkins
Tears rolled down his face. Trip drove his knife into the firm flesh of the pumpkin.
When he spotted chef about to dump the hull into the trash Trip grabbed it up. Taking the pumpkin shell back to his quarters, he stared at it for an hour. He needed to do something familiar, remembered.
Here in the Expanse everything was wrong...home and family like a thing of the past.
Finally, pulling out his pocket knife, Trip began to cut. At home, jack o’ lanterns were a Tucker tradition.
Trip cut remembering the last pumpkin he carved, with a smiling Lizzie.
***
“Trip Tucker, you promised!”
Cracking one eye open, Trip looked up at his sister. Heaving a sigh, he swung his legs out of the hammock and stood.
“You know that a guy on leave is supposed to relax don’t you?”
Lizzie snorted, “You have been napping all afternoon. Besides, we always carve the pumpkins for Momma and Daddy’s porch together.”
The siblings spent the next two hours carving jack o’ lanterns while telling stories and laughing at their various misadventures since they had last seen each other.
Spying their father, Lizzie called out, “Daddy, take a picture of us.”
Elizabeth pushed the knives and bucket of pumpkin guts out of the way. She and Trip sat side by side, arms around each other, holding their masterpieces.
Charlie Tucker aimed his camera, “I think these are the best ever.”
Lizzie laughed, “You say that every year. Take a good picture of us, Daddy. Since Trip’s shipping out on Enterprise soon, who knows when we’ll get to do this again.”
***
Trip sat back in his chair. He looked at the freshly carved pumpkin in front of him. Slowly he looked up and reached for one of the many framed pictures on the shelf above his desk.
Involuntarily, Trip smiled at the photograph. They both looked so carefree and happy with those ridiculous pumpkins in their laps.
“Did you somehow know this was the last time?” His breath hitched into a sob.
A heat spread through Trip’s body. The building rage so palpable that Trip was sure he could feel his blood sizzle in his veins.
His next words were a guttural growl of pain, “The Xindi are going to pay, Darlin’…they’re gonna pay!”
Pumpkins
Tears rolled down his face. Trip drove his knife into the firm flesh of the pumpkin.
When he spotted chef about to dump the hull into the trash Trip grabbed it up. Taking the pumpkin shell back to his quarters, he stared at it for an hour. He needed to do something familiar, remembered.
Here in the Expanse everything was wrong...home and family like a thing of the past.
Finally, pulling out his pocket knife, Trip began to cut. At home, jack o’ lanterns were a Tucker tradition.
Trip cut remembering the last pumpkin he carved, with a smiling Lizzie.
***
“Trip Tucker, you promised!”
Cracking one eye open, Trip looked up at his sister. Heaving a sigh, he swung his legs out of the hammock and stood.
“You know that a guy on leave is supposed to relax don’t you?”
Lizzie snorted, “You have been napping all afternoon. Besides, we always carve the pumpkins for Momma and Daddy’s porch together.”
The siblings spent the next two hours carving jack o’ lanterns while telling stories and laughing at their various misadventures since they had last seen each other.
Spying their father, Lizzie called out, “Daddy, take a picture of us.”
Elizabeth pushed the knives and bucket of pumpkin guts out of the way. She and Trip sat side by side, arms around each other, holding their masterpieces.
Charlie Tucker aimed his camera, “I think these are the best ever.”
Lizzie laughed, “You say that every year. Take a good picture of us, Daddy. Since Trip’s shipping out on Enterprise soon, who knows when we’ll get to do this again.”
***
Trip sat back in his chair. He looked at the freshly carved pumpkin in front of him. Slowly he looked up and reached for one of the many framed pictures on the shelf above his desk.
Involuntarily, Trip smiled at the photograph. They both looked so carefree and happy with those ridiculous pumpkins in their laps.
“Did you somehow know this was the last time?” His breath hitched into a sob.
A heat spread through Trip’s body. The building rage so palpable that Trip was sure he could feel his blood sizzle in his veins.
His next words were a guttural growl of pain, “The Xindi are going to pay, Darlin’…they’re gonna pay!”
