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He thought of days he had handed over to a bottle.

13 Apr

Drunk

The Drunk

by an unknown drunk writer

Starkle, starkle, little twink,
Who the hell are you I think.
I’m not under what you call
The alcofluence of incohol.
I’m just a little slort of sleep,
I’m not drunk like thinkle peep.
I don’t know who is me yet,
But the drunker I stand here the longer I get.
So just give me one more fink to drill my cup,
‘Cause I got all day sober to Sunday up.

funny-drunk-guide-footsteps

Hello! A warm welcome to my blog. Thank you for taking the time to read my post. Today I will share a short excerpt from my novel The Basement: Robbie’s Rite Of Passage. I hope you enjoy it!

“Within this entertaining and frightening tale is a good lesson to be learned.”~ Goodreads

Robbie’s Rite of Passage

Promptly at eight o’clock, Robert staggered toward Robbie, who still sat by the window as if he put himself in a time-out. Weighed down by his thoughts, Robbie stared at the night sky as his dinner sat cold on the dining room table.

Robert grabbed the window frame for support and clung there. He looked at his son sternly for a long time before taking him by the arm and moving him away from the window toward the front door.

“It’s time you left and became a man! Prove to your friends, neighbors, and me that you’re not a pathetic loser.” Robert shook his head in an exaggerated manner.

“But, Dad, I’m only eleven! Don’t I have plenty of time to become a man?” His father tilted his head to the side and looked as if he had eaten something rotten. Seeing no change in his demeanor, Robbie continued, “There are rats down there. Lots of them, and they’re humungous!” Robert waved his hand dismissively and ignored Robbie’s pleas. “Dad, remember the Black Death? We just studied that in school and people got black spots and all swelled up and died! The rats caused this! Dad please!” He face was red and his nose runny.

His pleas offended his father. “Ack!” Robert pounded on the wall. “I’ve been down to the basement a hundred times. The most I’ve seen were a few mice!”

Robbie’s mom stepped forward and help him. “Please don’t make him—” Her words were strangled by a single gesture. Robert glared at her with his finger over his lips. She puffed and lowered her eyes.

He had made up his mind. No matter how much his boy or his wife begged him to reconsider; Robbie would be venturing to the basement come nightfall.

He gawked at his son and his wife through blood-shot eyes. Both of them were sobbing. He stumbled forward and bumped his leg on the sofa. He gawped at the piece of furniture, slack-jawed, for a long time. Then he looked at Robbie.

“There are tribes that send their boys out to the jungle on their own to become men. These boys have to sleep in the wild.” Robert slurred. “There’s some tribe in papa, papua”—Robert sucked through his teeth—“whatever, in Australia somewhere where boys go through six stages of initiation tests, and they begin as early as age six!”

Robbie’s mom stared at him with imploring eyes covering her mouth in disbelief.

“I believe boys need to fear their face to mature into men and the sooner they do the better.” Robert leaned over to talk in Robbie’s ear but did not bother to lower his voice. The boy winced. He could smell the beer on his breath and twisted his face. “These tribesmen rip the boys from their homes and their momma’s arms. They send ’em on dangerous adventures, often resulting in injuries, pain, and even death!” Robbie jolted and gulped.

Robbie’s mom inhaled sharply. “Robert that’s enough.”

Robert punctuated this last statement by jumping to his feet, almost toppling over, and grabbing Robbie by the arm once more. He continued to harangue. “I’m sending ya down to a dirty basement with a few mice running around. You’re getting off easy.”

Robbie looked at his mother. She stood motionless with her hand over her mouth.

Robert explained to Robbie his task was to go to the basement and kill as many rodents as he came across. He handed his son a heavy, wooden bat to use as a weapon. He told him he would be doing the entire neighborhood a great service by getting rid of the pesky critters. He also told him if he did this right, he would be a hero.

“You’re gonna have to be brave, feel the fear, and do it anyway. That’s the courage of meaning!” Robert garbled to his son.

Robbie’s dad indicated it was going to be quite dark in the basement and handed him a big, yellow flashlight. Robbie gulped. He also told him there were fresh batteries in it, so it should last the whole night if needed. Robbie stared at his father with vision blurred with tears.

The reality of the situation suddenly hit the boy; he became pale and fidgety. He began to fiddle with his clothes. He retched, but only stomach acid came up because his stomach was empty.

His mother saw his reaction and let out a mournful cry. “Please! He’s only eleven years old! He’s a boy afraid of the dark! How do you expect him to go to that creepy basement by himself? Have you lost your mind?” It was like talking to a wall.

“Lose my mind? I haven’t lost my mind. It’s right here for safe keeping.” Robert poked his head with his pointer finger. Then he turned the finger at his wife.

“You’re the reason he’s growing up weak—the reason he acts more like a girl than a boy.” He rolled his red eyes at her. “Because of you, he’s neva gonna be a real man! You mollycoddle him. It’s time the boy became a man, so cut the cord! He’s gonna do this even if it kills him!”

Robbie’s mom gasped and wept into both hands.

Robert then grabbed his son by the back of his T-shirt, opened the front door, and shoved him out so violently poor Robbie crashed to the floor on his injured knees. He winced as pain shot through his entire body. It took everything in him not to scream. He got up slowly and faced his dad, all color gone from his face.

Robert threw the bat and the flashlight at him. Robbie flinched, and both his arms flew instinctively to guard his face. “Kill as many mice as possible, and then ya can come home! I don’t care if it takes ya all night!”

Suddenly, his face softened and his voice gentled by a degree or two. “You’ll return a different person, my son. A man and a hero you will be.” With conviction, he closed the door in the boy’s face.

Robbie stood facing the door for a moment brow scrunched, wondering why he had to have Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde for a dad. If only he could be in his comfy, warm bed. If only this was a nightmare and he could wake up from it. Except it wasn’t, and he couldn’t. Robbie did an about-face and began his dreary journey to the basement, thinking, this must be what a guy on death row feels like as he takes that long, last hike toward the electric chair.

~ Excerpt from THE BASEMENT by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

Now available in paperback and ebook (Nook, iBooks and more) Get it on amazon

Click to purchase The Basement at amazon paperback and eBook (Kindle)

Click to purchase
The Basement at amazon
paperback and eBook (Kindle)

38 Responses to “He thought of days he had handed over to a bottle.”

  1. Julia of A Dose of Jules April 14, 2013 at 3:37 am #

    Great writing. I love to write, but I am better at poetry….the drunk poem was funny.

    Thanks for joining our Show Off Blog Party.

    Jules
    A Dose of Jules

    Like

  2. Ida Chiavaro Reflex Reactions April 14, 2013 at 12:48 pm #

    Sadly there are so many stories like that are real. You weaved your words beautifully. The juxtaposition of a happy drunk poem and this story leave a lot of thoughts floating around for me to ponder.

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-VegaV April 14, 2013 at 9:53 pm #

      Hello Ida, thank you for visiting. The small poem, while being funny, also demonstrates how consuming too much alcohol can alter your brain to the point where you can no longer form accurate thoughts, let alone words. You are altered. What you say and do while under the influence can cause serious repercussions, if not for you, sadly, in too many cases for someone else. The small poem, in an amusing way, stated this to me. Thank you so much for your comment ❤

      Like

  3. Vashti Quiroz-VegaV April 14, 2013 at 11:51 pm #

    Good one Ida!

    Like

  4. Kristi Campbell April 15, 2013 at 1:03 am #

    Wow! Your drunk poem was hilarious but also sad because…well…that person is obviously so far gone. Oh, and I want to read more of your book!

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-VegaV April 15, 2013 at 6:39 am #

      Hi Kristi! Thank you for stopping by. Yes that poem is funny and sad simultaneously. I’m so glad you’re interested in my book. The Basement will be releasing soon. In the meantime, I will be posting excerpts from the book from time to time, and I will also be posting issues which are touched upon in the book. Thank you for your comment!

      Like

  5. Secret Scribo April 15, 2013 at 8:09 pm #

    Loved the Drunk Poem 😄 Very clever. I also liked the contrast with the story too, giving both the happy and the sad side of being drunk. If I had one thing to say it would be with the little kid’s dialogue and thoughts. 🙂 To me, they didn’t seem very childlike. It seemed weird when compared to the mother, insisting that the boy is…well, a boy! 😄 But all in all, not bad. I liked it.

    Like

    • Ida Chiavaro Reflex Reactions April 15, 2013 at 8:52 pm #

      Funny you mention the boys voice, in my original comment I was going to mention that with a father like that he doesn’t need to kill rats to speed up his process to becoming an adult. So many young children are forced to grow up fast in these situations

      Like

  6. Vashti Quiroz-Vega April 15, 2013 at 9:51 pm #

    Hello! Thank you for stopping by. My character Robbie is a very intelligent eleven year old boy. Have you hung around preteens lately. They are very aware and insightful these days. Robbie is lightly based on my nephew Joshua who is wise beyond his years. As far as Robert (the father), he has a very interesting character arc. So stay tuned. 😀

    Like

  7. apleasanthouse April 17, 2013 at 5:49 pm #

    Well written. You must be a writer. Hahahah

    Like

  8. Vashti Quiroz-Vega April 17, 2013 at 6:09 pm #

    Ha,ha! Thank you so much! 😀

    Like

  9. williamkendall1 April 17, 2013 at 10:30 pm #

    Robert sounds like a real piece of work….

    And I do lke that poem!

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega April 18, 2013 at 4:46 am #

      Hi William! I’m glad you liked the poem. Yes Robert is definitely a character! Haha! Thank you so much for stopping by and leaving a comment.

      Like

  10. veronica lee April 18, 2013 at 5:53 am #

    WOW!! You rock!! Love, love, love that poem!

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega April 18, 2013 at 6:11 pm #

      Haha! Thank you so much Veronica! I’m so happy you liked it! Thank you for stopping by, and for the great comment. I truly appreciate it. 😀

      Like

  11. sawdustonmyboot April 20, 2013 at 6:28 pm #

    Thanks for the post! Reminds me of how grateful I am to be ‘high on life’! 🙂

    Like

  12. Kelnius April 21, 2013 at 1:53 pm #

    The title reminds me of that song by Paul McDermott. Powerful song, and something I understand all too well. I’m not an alcoholic, but I am an Australian . . .

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega April 21, 2013 at 8:48 pm #

      You’re Australian, huh? Haha! Well, I’m glad you stopped by, and left me a nice comment. Thank for the video too. 😀

      Like

  13. Joyce T. Strand April 23, 2013 at 4:11 am #

    I found your great blog through the WLC Blog Follows on the World Literary Cafe! Great to connect!

    Like

  14. Baju Bayi May 20, 2013 at 8:59 am #

    Wow, wonderful blog layout! How long have you been blogging for? you make blogging look easy. The overall look of your website is great, as well as the content!. Thanks For Your article about He thought of days he had handed over to a bottle. | Vashti Quiroz-Vega& .

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega May 21, 2013 at 8:20 pm #

      Hello! Thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. I’ve been blogging for about 4 months now. I still have a lot to learn, but I’m getting there. Glad you stopped by. 😀

      Like

  15. Rosey August 18, 2013 at 8:23 pm #

    Ah, and everyone who was raised in a home with an alcoholic can see pieces where they relate. Thank you for sharing! I saw you linked up on Let’s Get Social Sunday. 🙂

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega August 19, 2013 at 3:12 am #

      You’re welcome Rosey. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. Yes, I did. 🙂 Thanks for stopping by.

      Like

  16. Natasha @ Epic Mommy Adventures November 10, 2013 at 8:25 pm #

    Beautiful words, Vashti! I am always spellbound by your words.

    Thanks so much for sharing this awesome post on Meandering Mondays!

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega November 11, 2013 at 4:09 am #

      Hello Natasha! It is always so great hearing from you. Thank you so much for the encouraging words. It was my pleasure! 🙂

      Like

  17. Chantelle Hazelden (@MamaMummyMum) September 7, 2016 at 6:37 am #

    Fab excerpt and I love the poem too! Thanks for sharing with #ReadWithMe

    Liked by 1 person

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega September 7, 2016 at 10:19 am #

      I’m happy you enjoyed the excerpt, Chantelle. Thanks for hosting ‘Read With Me’ every week. 😀 xx

      Like

  18. Vashti Quiroz-Vega November 11, 2013 at 3:39 pm #

    This is wonderful! I’m headed there now!

    Like

  19. Vashti Quiroz-Vega November 11, 2013 at 3:39 pm #

    Yay! That’s awesome! 😀

    Like

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