A Start

Below is my start to an imitation of Ernest Hemingway's short story "Hills like White Elephants."

The boy across the booth from his grandparents seemed cheerful and distracted. Across the road there were steaming potholes and roaring trucks and the Whataburger glistened through spectacular turmoil across highways in his mind. Far along the wall through the glass there was a radiating glow from the sun and its reflections, created through myriads of twisting transience, stopped by the quick glance of the child in awe of movement. The Grandparents and the patrons around them looked with a twinge of moderate longing at his wonder. There were many diners and the crowd in Whataburger watched quietly in sweet remembrance. They peered at the innocence of vast inquisition and continued dining in nostalgia.

“Where did they go?” the granddad asked. He seemed smitten by his story and listened on across the booth. 

“Umm around there,” the boy said.

“Let’s get desert.”

“Three cones” the grandfather said to his spouse.

“Chocolate ones?” the grandmother asked with a grin.

“Yes, three chocolate cones.”

The grandmother brought three cones to them and some paper napkins. She cleaned the sandwich crumbs and fry wrappers from their table and smiled at the grandfather and his patience.

“They flash like small stars” he said.

“I can see that,” the grandfather ate his cone.

“Yeah, you always could.”

“You love space,” the grandfather whispered. “When ever you want you can go flying up there.” The boy stared with a broad grin. “I’d love going to space” he said. “How should I start?”

“Massachusetts Institute of Technology. It’s a School.”

“Can I go there?”

The grandfather uttered “someday” with a laugh.

The grandmother supported him with her sweetness.

“Fourteen years.”

“He would probably get early admission.”

“And scholarships.”

“Don’t you think it’d be nice?”

“I’m not sure,” the boy said “Do they work at NASA?”

“You could someday.”

“You want to go stargaze?” asked the grandmother.

“Yeah, after dark.”

“That sounds like fun,” the boy said and jostled his dangling shoelaces.

“It’s the best after midnight.”

“Okay” said the boy. "Night time’s best then. Especially when the fireflies I’ve been catching float around, like boats.”

“Ooo, could I help?”

“I think so,” the boy said. “I love catching bugs. You’ll like chasing them too maybe.”

“Well, lets clean and wipe that chocolate off.”

“Okay, fine. You are tickling. You think if I acted like really good, dad would come?”

“It’s not you.”

“I know, but maybe next week? Its just a night—looking for stars and catching some fireflies?”

“I don’t know.”

The grandmother half-smiled across at the boy.

“He loved you,” she said. “He didn’t really want to leave then. He just needed a break from the busyness, from the weight.”

“Do you want anything else?”

“No thanks.”

The glinting sun pierced the boy’s eyes through the doors.

“The weather’s beautiful and calm,” the grandfather said.

“Very beautiful,” the grandmother agreed.

“He’ll be just fine over time, honey” the grandfather whispered.

“It isn’t right a boy by himself.”

The boy ran ahead of them his lighted hair shining softly.

“I think we can do this, hon. We’ve already raised two. Let’s just be there, his new constants.”

The grandmother felt her smile emerging.