writing | Cindy Wity

The Boy in the Tent

October 5, 2011 Leave a comment

Last night I found myself in a van, my ex driving us to a familiar campground in the next state. We wanted to get there as fast as we could. We urgently wanted to get to our seven year-old son.

We drove through the darkness panting and leaning forward in our seats. Just before sunrise we entered the campground. We drove over to the campsite where we had camped many times before. There in the middle of a grassy opening surrounded by oak trees was a lone pup tent.

I jumped out of the van and ran over to the tent. Down on my knees I lifted the tent flap and looked into the dimly lit tent. My son was sitting in the middle of the otherwise empty tent. He was facing the other way.

There was nothing in front of him. He sat dead still.

I crawled over to him. As I did so he turned his head to look at me. He then got up, jumped into my arms and hugged me tightly.

After a while we released our hug and I put him down. He returned to sit in the same place in the tent. He sat down facing away from me.

I went out of the tent. My ex had been yelling from the car that we had to leave.

I called back to my son and told him that we were going, that he must come along. There was no reply.

****

I opened my eyes and winced them shut again. The pit of my stomach felt as if it had been carved out of me while I slept. When the silent sobbing began I tried to cover the wound.

Filed under family, Life As I See It, marriage, prose, short piece, short story Tagged with Divorce, dreams, family, loss, marriage, pain, prose, short story, writing

Nobel Prize in Literature 2010: Mario Vargas Llosa

“We would be worse than we are without the good books we read, more conformist, not as restless, more submissive, and the critical spirit, the engine of progress, would not even exist. Like writing, reading is a protest against the insufficiencies of life. When we look in fiction for what is missing in life, we are saying, with no need to say it or even to know it, that life as it is does not satisfy our thirst for the absolute – the foundation of the human condition – and should be better. We invent fictions in order to live somehow the many lives we would like to lead when we barely have one at our disposal.” [emphasis mine]

Quote from:

Mario Vargas Llosa’s Nobel Lecture, given December 7th, 2010.