Mar 26, 2009

3 Woof Thursday

Each week,
Quilly gives us 3 woof, errrr, words, to write a store woof. This week's words are:
bacchante, queachy, & jibber
What do they mean? Just click on the ones in the story below to go to their definitions. You kin even go visit Quilly (the inventor of this meme) and other players but not til you finish here.

Flo sat watching the news on her TV. Hearing that 22 people have died snowmobiling so far this season should have upset her, after all, her fiance had been one of them, but she was too drunk for it all to register for her. Since Jack's accident, she'd pretty much been acting like a bacchante. Each morning as she woke with a hangover, she would tell herself she had to stop this kind of behavior, then by noon the pain was too much for her and she'd have just one... then just one more, until she was blottoed and the pain of loss was gone for now. She knew no other way to make the hurting stop.

Jack and Flob were planning to be married on his snowmobile, then just one week before the big wedding he was suddenly gone. Flo's entire world had gone queachy, and didn't seem to want to stop.

One morning in early April, shortly before noon, Flo was just pouring her first drink of the day when the door bell rang. She ignored it at first, but when it didn't stop being rung, she finally decided to answer the door. She couldn't stand that nasty ringing with the headache she had this morning. Opening the door she found, standing there, Jerry. He was Jack's older brother and she hadn't seen him since the funeral 3 months earlier.

"Hi Flo. Can I come in?" he greeted her with a serious look on his face.

"Well, I was just about to ..." Flo started to make an excuse for not letting him in, wanting him to just go away. She needed that drink even more now than she had a minute ago... and the one after it too, but Jerry wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Flo, I made Jack a promise one day and I mean to keep that promise. Come on, lets go sit down and talk," he insisted.

Knowing Jerry, Flo knew there was no way he was about to go away, she knew she had no choice but to let him in. She offered him a cup of coffee which he declined. "I hope you don't mind if I have the cup of tea I was just about to pour," Flo said, then slipped into the kitchen and poured her drink into a coffee cup. She took a drink and suddenly felt a bit better, then another long drink. She topped up the cup and returned to the living room to face Jerry.

"One day, Jack and I were talking about what we would want when/if we died."

"I don't want to hear this, Jerry," Flow complained.

"Well, you are going to hear it, Flo. I made a promise to my brother and, like I said, I'm going to keep that promise. He made me promise that if he went, I'd look after you, make sure you were okay," Jerry went on.

"I'm fine, Jerry, I just want the pain to stop. I just want to get on with my life," Flo lied.

"If you believe that, Flo, you're worse off than I thought. Lying to yourself and believing it is pretty sad. I know what you have been doing since Jack's death. That's why I traveled all the way back here to come see you. I've heard from several people that are worried about you, so I know you've been staying home and ordering booze delivered. I know you do nothing but drink and cry. That's not okay, and that is NOT how Jack would have wanted you to live life."

The conversation went on and on, with Jerry doing most of the talking until finally Flo admitted to the truth, she confessed how she had been feeling and drinking out of control. She agreed to go for help, but only if Jerry would take her and stay there with her, at least for the first time. Jerry gave her the business card of a good grief therapist, given to him by a friend he trusted. He had already talked to the woman and felt she would be a good match for Flo. He thought of Flo as a member of the family, and always would, even though the wedding had never happened, and he knew this was what Jack would want.

Two days later, as they walked into the therapist's office, Flo suddenly felt the fear, she felt should couldn't go in, like the roof would fall in on her if she did. She started to jibber, nearly knocking over the beautiful table lamps sitting on the nearby end table. Jerry put his arm around her shoulder, giving her physical support, holding her together it seemed, as he whispered in her ear, "It's okay, little sister, I'm right here with you, and so is Jack. He's here supporting you in every way he can."

Flo looked up into Jerry's eyes, so much like Jack's blue eyes had been, and she knew that she was doing the right thing coming here. She knew that indeed Jack was here with her, wanting her to be okay. She smiled up at Jerry, turned, and stepped into the inner office, ready to take the first step in recovery.

Don't clap, just throw doggy cookies, arf arf arf.

The Week Eight words will be: propinquity; susurrus; nescience



quilly said...

{Pat. Pat.} Here's your doggy cookie.

Thom said...

Woof Reba...great story and great use of the words :)

Nessa said...

Here's a whole box of 'em.