Just Say It

DJ was halfway out the window and up onto the roof to stare out at the lights in Victoria harbor when he saw it, the faintest glint of it, taped to the edge of the windowsill. It was a slender paper packet, white enough to blend in with the paint. When he peeled it away from the wall and turned it over, he saw it was guitar strings. Brand new guitar strings, to replace the ones he'd broken learning to play that dreadful song with the jumping chord hammers and with the chorus it was almost impossible to hear, "Go now, you are forgiven." But he ducked back inside and grabbed his guitar, levered it carefully up onto the roof, and he sat with it across his knees as he restrung it, the harbor lights dancing across the steel like a thousand wandering stars.

When Celia finally climbed the final heights of the roof - how she made it through the leafy boughs below without making a sound, he'd never know - DJ had the thing tuned and was picking out a low melody. He glanced up, saw her crouched in the shadows, and immediately he shifted into the chords of a familiar song, a little Elliot Smith.

Cellia sank down next to him and sang the chorus of Miss Misery, and he heard what she couldn't say in proper words, felt it when she ducked in for a kiss.

Thank you.

For not giving up.

When she pulled back and curled into his side, he reciprocated the only way he knew how, with skittering notes and jumping chord hammers, and he tried to accept what she'd been trying to tell him for so long.

"Go now, you are forgiven."

What He was Grateful For...

Patient note:

     Joseph has been attending mandatory counseling session for three months now. As it is November and close to Thanksgiving I will try to get him to open up to things he is grateful for.

I closed my file and looked up at Joe as he came in the door. Slunk in was more like it, shoulders hunched forward and a slightly sour expression on his face. I had tried calling him Joseph, but he adamantly refused to answer to it.

I watched with a carefully smooth expression as he took a seat across from me and folded his arms across his chest in a defensive way. I could tell today's session would not be an easy one. We continued to sit in silence a few moments as I watched him, and he watched me, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt.

"So Joe," I began, and I saw him tense automatically, "you have been coming to me for three months now." I could see him stifle a sigh and roll his eyes. I knew he would rather be anywhere than in therapy. All of them would rather be anywhere but here. "Tell me, do you think this is helping?"

Joe sat in stubborn silence, staring a hole into the carpet. I uncrossed and crossed my legs as I let him think.

"It will be Thanksgiving in a few days," I began again, "do you have any plans? Are you and the team going to get together?" I knew it would needle him, maybe enough to get him talking.

Joe's head jerked up at the mention of Thanksgiving and he looked at me, his clear eyes seemed to pin me to my chair.

"What on earth do I have to be grateful for?" he asked incredulously,  "What do any of us have to be grateful for? All of us except Steve have lost their family. We were recruited to this work without truly knowing what we were getting into. We get sent from hell hole to hell hole putting out fires around the world. For what? We put our lives on the line day in and day out for people who don't even know we exist. And David is dead. Tell me, councilor" his voice dripping with sarcasm  "just what do you think I should be grateful for?"

I looked at him for a long moment as he sat gripping the arms of the chair. "Can you think of nothing at all?" I asked quietly.

Joe seemed to look inwards for a while. Finally, though he seemed not to be aware that he was speaking, he said, "I'm grateful for Steve, Mark and Bryan. They are my family now."

I held back a sigh of relief at the words. "Anything else?" I quietly prodded.

"I'm grateful for my cat Kent. David let me keep him," Joe mumbled, his eyes moist, "I'm grateful for Jen, for all that she did for me after my brother died. I'm grateful for fast cars that help dull the pain. I'm grateful for..."

I sat quietly as Joe slowly began listing things he was grateful for.

Project Assignment: Gratitude

Why yes, it is November, and everyone is extra grateful this time of year, and our characters should be too. If you already have characters, how do they show gratitude? What do they do for Thanksgiving (if they even celebrate it)? How do they say thank you? If you don't have characters, go ahead and make something up to throw into the mix. 500 words. One week. I realize Nanowrimo has claimed primacy on this month, and I've been a super slacker to boot, but go with it. :)