Ian Sherman – PROMISING NOTHING

dmdujour — Fri, 17 May 2013 07:30:11 +0000

Light. Off. On. Off. On. The single bulb flickers while a broken chain lays untouched on the floor. A young girl takes small steps through the darkened room, using the moonlight to guide her. She moves to slowly for the warm glass of milk to spill. Her hands are pressed firmly on the glass. Sniffling, she passes the milk to her younger brother’s free hand, his other has a bear cuddled to his chest. The girl begins to back away but her brother beckons her, as if she is his “servant.” She shakes her head. He blinks.
No response, but he breaks the silence, “Please.” She purses her lips, but Cassie gives in. She pulls Ben out of bed, and together they shuffle into the kitchen. Then she hushes him, hoping not to wake Mama who only just settled into bed after a long work day.
“I want Mommy,” he whispers. Cassie drags him nearer to the apartment balcony.
“Sit down,” she replies. She holds her breath for a moment as her toes touch the tiled floor of the balcony. A chill rolls up her spine; luckily she brought a blanket, folded over her shoulder. It’s not only cold, but deadly silent too. Then, a sigh. A T-shirt is wrinkled on the floor; she rests it on the railing. Under the horizon is a dark navy blue line that meets a pitch-black sky, where the sun should be resting but instead is working its magic warmth somewhere else. Somewhere. Cassie stays quiet though, sitting Ben gently on her lap so the two can rest easily on the rocking chair. She unfolds the patched blanket and lays it on top of them.
“You know, mommy, she works real hard,” she says. Ben nods his head.
“What about Papa?” he asks.
“He worked real hard too, but he isn’t around right now,” she replies.
“Where is he?”
“Somewhere. Don’t really know though. Just somewhere,” Cassie rocks the chair.
“Is he up there?” he jerks his head up to the sky. Cassie bites her lip.
“Yeah.”
“When’s he coming home?”
“I…I don’t think he’s coming home,” Cassie told him, “But you’ll see him one day”
“Tomorrow?”
“No, not tomorrow.” She watches his grip tighten on the glass of milk, as if its slipping, as if he’s afraid it will slip out of his hands and shatter to the floor. Nothing happens though.
“What’s it like having a home in the stars?” Cassie blushes— then smiles.
“And what exactly do you think’s living up there?”
“Papa,” he cuts in, “with animals I bet.”
“The ones from the zoo?” Cassie asks.
“Yep,” he says proudly, “Probably Nana too. Maybe gummy bears? I’m not sure.”
“…Heaven doesn’t have stars.”
“How do you know?” He shoots back. For a minute or so there is quiet.
“I don’t,” Cassie squeezes the blanket, looking down, “it just doesn’t, buddy. Sorry.”
“Why there stars then?” She bites her lip, opens her mouth, but then decides its not worth it; better off killing the conversation with silence.” Cassie hears Ben muttering, however, says nothing. Then he gets off her lap, sets the milk down, and waves up at the sky.
“What are you doing?” she asks, pulling his hand to his side.
“Saying goodnight,” he says, pointing to the sole star beside he moon. Then he shuffles back inside, his teddy bear dangling from his hand. Cassie sighs, and then rests her head on the back of the chair, closing her eyes for a moment.
“Looks like you finally got the kiddo to sleep,” a voice says to Cassie who rises, shyly looking down. “Don’t know how you do it.” Mama steps out onto the balcony and kisses Cassie on the forehead. “But I can betchya Papa’d be proud.”
“I guess.” Cassie tips her head up, so that their eyes meet. There is a moment between the two, and then Mama slips away after whispering Cassie goodnight.
The figure of a young woman stands under the moon. She pulls her hair back and leans over the railing. The wind brushes past her. Lifting her head, she whispers, “goodnight, Papa,” up into the sky. “Goodnight, Cassie girl,” she mutters back to herself, smiling because of her imagination. She continues to stand on the balcony. The quiet travels through the night until suddenly the sound of a taxicab zips through the silence, bring reality back— along with the exhaustion of a long day and the readiness to tackle the nearing one.

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Ian Sherman is co-editor-in-chief of the Trevor Day School’s literary magazine, founder of the Psychology Club, and column editor of the newspaper. He has been recognized on national and regional levels by Scholastic Art & Writing Awards for over 5 years in genres from humor and dramatic scripts to short stories. In 2012, Ian had his one-act play “Standing Voiceless in the Choir” produced Off-Broadway at 59E59 Theaters in New York City as a part of Writopia Lab’s Playwright Festival. His play was also put on as a dramatic reading by the TACT (The Actors Company Theatre) in New York. Most recently, two of his poems have been accepted by Teen Art Gallery and are being featured in their 2013 July exhibition at Chashama. Overall, Ian is an enthusiastic and accomplished writer, who hopes to impact others with insightful and heart-warming works.

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Ian Sherman – PROMISING NOTHING