Writer In Motion Forum

Here's my first draft for the fall 2022 edition. I'm looking forward to re-reading it and making changes/tightening it up.


    Maybe the couple had spread a blanket out on the small deck of the boat. The woman sat on the ground across from the man, her legs draped to the side, pinning her skirt down to keep it from blowing up in the wind. The man in light-colored pants, and a casual blue button-up shirt. The two tried to set their glasses down next to them, but even with the engine cut off the waves made the drinks slosh, and they were both afraid the fragile glasses were teeter over and break. Maybe there wasn?t a couple at all.
   Tan looked out at the speck of a boat, and hoped. He started pacing around, careful not to slip on the icy snow that had become a winter familiarity, and began to put his game plan into action.
   There seemed to be a small, enclosed roof on the boat. It looked to be moving fast, and it almost looked like someone was being pulled behind it. Tan looked again, and thought he saw someone holding on to a rope, and standing up behind the boat. He squinted and realized his imagination had built an image that wasn?t true.
   As the boat got closer, he realized the enclosed roof he saw was really three or four fishing poles secured along the side.  It even looked like one was bouncing up and down like it had a fish on the line. Maybe there was a small crew working with a net on the other side. The wind whipped against him as he stood near the edge of the cliff trying to get a better view.
   The cliff face dropped off abruptly from the side Tan was standing on, but it gave the best view of the open sea. He walked down a bit further away from the clearing and followed a craggy path down. He crouched down, and turned his back, to help block the wind as it whipped, and struck his fire starter against the rock. The hard knocks reverberated in the air, and came up empty until the fifth strike, which started fire, and he quickly brought it against a stick with a piece of cloth wrapped around it. The fire caught quickly against the torch and he carried it up where he planted it in one of the holes he?d meticulously dug into the ground.
   Working quickly now he hopped down and went back to the place he?d grabbed the stick. He pulled four more out from a pile that seemed to be diminishing, hoping he had enough to carry out his plan. He walked to the lit torch in the center and lit one of the torches, planting it in a hole a few paces away from the center torch. He repeated the process for each stick, creating a semi-circle of lit torches, making a beacon of sorts.
   As the boat got closer, he imagined it was a warship outfitted with artillery that would be fired at him if he was seen. Their only goal was to destroy him. If they could, they would launch a torpedo that would obliterate the whole island. He ducked his body below the raised clearing and made sure he was out of sight. It was his job to make sure the torches stayed lit.
   He thought back to the first time and remembered how he had to run back and forth relighting each stick multiple times, some even toppling over. Everyone had laughed at him, and he felt his face grow hot, and he knew it wasn?t from the flames of the torches. But the torches had stayed lit. And the plan had worked.
   The next time a smaller crowd watched him. He wasn?t sure if it there was less wind, if it was because he?d shaped the sticks a different way, or maybe it was because of the holes he?d precisely dug with his tools, but the torches stayed lit longer. After that the crowd moved towards the bottom of the island. Near the beach. That was where the action was at now.
   The group assumed Tan still needed to be there to man the flames, and ensure they remained lit. They didn?t know he?d perfected a fluid that made the torches stay lit for hours, if needed. He didn?t correct them, he relished the time alone, and now he needed it.
   He stood up and gathered the rest of the sticks, leaving one behind. He saw his breath puff out in front of him in a cloud, and shivered as he looked down the icy path. He was tempted to light the torch now, but knew it could potentially spoil his plan. He hurried down, and about halfway down he peeked through an opening in the rocks that opened into a cavern below. Far away he saw the group standing and waiting for the boat. Closer, in the small cove, he saw the group of boats they?d collected from their previous flame calls. The first few were battered, taken in with more force, but now that their technique had been improved, most of the boats looked almost untouched. They were practically were untouched, except for the wiring.
   Tar pulled away from examining the cove, content it was unoccupied, and continued. As he rounded the corner he jumped. ?Hi, Tar,? a small child said excitedly. ?I?ve come a week early to shadow you.? A quick expression of frustration and anger flashed across Tar?s face, but he recovered and masked his voice.
   ?I?m glad you are so eager. I?m making some adjustments to the process, and need to add a few more torches. You wouldn?t mind keeping an eye up top for me, would you??
   Tar was shaken by the unexpected addition, but he could still make it work. He went down by the cove and started mixing water with the broken limestone he?d piled together into empty halves of coconut shells. He carried two shells at a time up near the top, setting them down out of sight from the child. He replaced the shells with a lit torch and started placing them in holes he?d dug that would guide the ship to the other side of the island, away from the welcoming committee.
   As the ship came clearer into focus, he could see it was a small yacht, and there were two small children on it. A far cry from the battleship he?d last imagined. Now he truly hoped his plan would work. He ran up to the top and started taking the torches down.
   ?What are you doing?? the child asked.
   ?I?m not sure this ship is safe. I?m taking the torches down to protect us. If they do land, I want to make sure the torches are snuffed completely, to keep them from finding the cove underneath. I need to pour this mixture into each of the holes, and stick the lit end of the torch in it. As far as it will go.? With the child taking over the task of hardening the holes, and burying the torch lighters, it?s one last task Tar will have to worry about, and one more thing in the way of the community starting up the tradition again.
   He pretended to watch the child begin the task, but in reality he watched to make sure the boat veered towards the path he lit. As soon as it turned, he excused himself and ran down the cliff. The boat sped towards the beach, and he flagged it down. The boat idled, and he took out his final trick: A shell he?d been playing with to amplify his sound.
   ?Go away from here quick. Please stay back. The people here will hurt you.?
   Tar turned back and saw the child looking down at him from the cliff, then he saw him disappear. He wasn?t sure if he was running towards him, or towards the community. Either way, he didn?t have much time now.
The man and the woman in the boat had been talking to each other. Instead of driving away they sped closer to him.
?Anyone that risks their lives to save us is a friend of ours. Come with us, because we have a feeling you?re next.?
They grabbed his hands and helped him up onto the boat. Tar looked back at the island and smiled. He saw the child, he saw the community, and hoped it was the last time he would see them. The plan had worked.

                                                                         Cloud Jumper

   Neil's shirt stuck to his back almost as soon stepped out the door. He looked up at the sky, and immediately thought of the summer long ago, when he and his brother chased the falling cloud. Most of those days were long, hot, and filled with meandering adventures. Neil wondered how different their summer, and now his life, would have been if it wouldn't have been for his brother's interest in the clouds.
   Right before school had let out that year Neil's brother came home excitedly talking about how clouds used to be. Neil was eight years older than him, so he still remembered, barely, that clouds weren't always something to be cautious around. For Neil's brother, watching a cloud sink down, and rest on a building was as natural as watching a thunderstorm. If someone wasn't careful a cloud could crush them. But that was rarer than a lightning strike.
One morning that summer, Neil's brother had woken up much earlier than him. He burst into his room shouting, "A cloud. There's a cloud falling, and it looks like it's gonna land in the big soccer field."
     Neil threw some shorts and a hoodie on and the two of them ran out the door. They cut through the neighbor's yards and ran as fast as they could. They weaved through a small grove of trees, circled around a light pole on the edge the field, and past a covered pavilion. The whole time they kept their heads up in the sky looking for the descending cloud. It seemed the cloud had completely disappeared.
     "Man," his brother said, "I'm going to get better at finding these clouds."
     As they searched the skies above, they didn't notice the fog that had surrounded them.
     Neil scooped his hand through the fog. He watched as it curled around in his hand. He formed a ball and raised it in front of his face. He blew and the fog swirled all around him. His brother laughed and grabbed some. They made them into balls and pushed them at each other. Instead of spreading, the balls joined into one large object. Neil pushed it easily, but his little brother had to strain to get it to move.
   "I've got an idea," Neil said as he pushed down a little on the ball of fog and made a curved edge, until it resembled a seat. Then he picked up his brother and placed him in the makeshift saddle. His brother sat atop the fog with a big smirk on his face.
   His little brother hopped off and grabbed some fog. He clumped it together and made it into a rectangle. Once it was big enough, he pushed it to about knee height and stepped on it.
"Look Neil! I'm standing!" he said with a laugh.
   Neil tried to put his body weight on it, but his foot broke through.
   As his brother stood there, he made small bounces to test the weight. The two brothers locked eyes, both realizing the implication, and silently began running around scooping up even more fog.
   Before long, they had 15 rectangles.
   Neil instructed his brother as they constructed a makeshift pair of fog steps into the sky. He watched his brother climb higher than the pavilion.
He called out, "Only go as high as the light. That's at least 15 feet."
   As his brother neared the top of the lamp Neil saw him start to panic.
   "Neil," he shouted. "The fog! It's disappearing."
   The first tier of stairs was completely gone. The atmosphere had shifted, and the fog was clearing.
   "What do I do?"
   Neil looked around frantically for anything to help, but he came up empty. The steps had disappeared even more now. All that was left now were two blocks.
   "Move the block and come down. Slowly move it, and come down."
   "But what if it disappears while I'm still way up here?"
   Neil didn't know what to do until he saw a cloud slightly above him.
   "Use the fog to get to the cloud."
   His brother carefully move the steps. Reaching down to grasp the step and inch it closer to the cloud. Once close enough he clambered his way onto the cloud. At first, Neil could only see a faint outline of his little brother, but then he popped his head over the side and waved.
   "It feels like the softest pillow in the world," his brother said with a smile in his voice that betrayed the nerves they both had a moment ago.
   "Most clouds sink," Neil shouted. "They must be a little different than the fog. Can you try jumping up and down on the cloud?"
   He held his breath as he watched him start bouncing on the cloud. There was always the possibility that he would break through, and his brother would careen towards the ground.
   The cloud slowly started to lower back down. Both of them whooped and hollered. As it got closer to the pavilion Neil pulled out a picnic table and scrambled up to the top. As the cloud floated just above the pavilion, he dove onto it next to his brother. He sank down into the cloud, but it held his weight. The two laughed uncontrollably as the cloud sank the rest of the way to the ground.
   Neil's shirt stuck to his back even more as he thought back to that first cloud ride. He looked out across the city, as he and his brother stood on a rooftop, waiting for a cloud to draw near.
   "I know you're thinking about that summer. I told you I'd get better at finding clouds," his brother said with a smirk. He took off running and jumped onto the cloud that had finally drifted close enough. Neil ran after him, not even waiting to see his brother sink deep into the cloud before joining him.

Here's my first draft. I'm looking forward to going through and polishing it up this week.

Scud Run

      Derek thought about the day they took down the powerlines on his street. His shirt had stuck to his back almost as soon as he and his brother sat on the front porch to see the men coming through their neighborhood. They hadn't been used for almost a year, but the city hadn't made it a priority to remove them until then. He remembered his dad looked sad when he came home from work and saw they were gone, but just made a comment about how it might raise the property value.
   In school they'd watched an old movie about a man who had to emergency land a plane. It was supposed to be a true story, but in it the pilot had flown through a cloud. The class laughed at the absurdity of it. After the film the teacher showed them real videos of pilots flying through them, and then showed them the first incident of the changing clouds. The video showed a woman hollering about how low a plane was flying through their town.
"They're gonna hit a building. They're gonna crash," the lady screamed.
    The plane was dangerously close to crashing and it landed in a field outside of the town. The video cut to a close up of the man's wings and they were bent in.
   "I wasn't aiming to do a scud run," he said. "I had to. I swear I had to. Look at the plane."
   When Derek and his  brother woke up they liked to go outside and watch the sky. They saw the planes fly under the clouds sometimes, and other times  watched the clouds sink towards the Earth. One time they tried to chase one as it fell. They thought they'd be able to get up into the cloud and ride it back up.
   That same summer, after the poles were taken down, they decided to touch a cloud. There was a big church at the edge of their neighborhood, and behind the church was a large field. Every so often they would see a cloud lowering down towards the ground and it always looked like it landed in the middle of that field. One morning right before the sun began to rise Derek's little brother woke him up.
"A cloud. I see a cloud falling. C'mon, let's go."
Derek threw some shorts and a hoodie on and the two of them ran out the door. They cut threw a neighbor's yard and ran as fast as they could. Near the edge of the field was a small covered pavilion with two old wooden picnic tables. They sprinted past it and kept their heads up in the sky looking for the descending cloud. It was gone, but as they looked around they saw fog all around them.
Derek reached out scooped his hand through the fog. He watched as the fog curled around in his hand. He formed it in a ball and raised it in front of his face. He blew out and the fog swirled all around him. His brother laughed and grabbed some up as well. They made them into balls and pushed them at each other. Instead of spreading apart the balls joined into one another. Derek pushed it easily, but his younger brother actually had to strain to get it to move.
   "I've got an idea,"Derek said as he pushed down a little on the ball of fog and made a curved edge on it, until it almost resembled a seat. Then he picked up his brother and placed him in the makeshift saddle. His brother sat a top the fog with a big smirk on his face. Derek gave his brother a small shove and watched as the fog and his brother floated through the air.
   His little brother hopped off and grabbed some fog. He clumped it together and began to make it into a rectangle. Once it was big enough he pushed it to about knee height and stepped on it.
"I'm standing on it. Look Derek, I'm standing," he said with a laugh.
   Derek tried to put his body weight on it, but his foot just broke through.
   As his brother stood there he made small bounces that tested the weight he could put on the fog. The two brothers locked eyes, and silently began running around scooping up even more fog.
   A short time later they had 15 rectangles. Derek placed the first one about three feet off the ground. He stacked them all on top of each other and they became slightly locked together. He could move them around as one unit, but one could be removed off the top or bottom easily as well.
   Derek instructed his brother as they began to make a makeshift pair of fog steps into the sky. Before long he was watching brother climb higher than the pavilion. He was laughing as he said that his brother should try to get to the same height as the light pole on the field. As he watched him go he kept his eyes on his brother to make sure he wasn't going to fall off the side. He called out, "only go as high as the light. Any more than that is too far."
   His brother reached the light. It was at least 15 feet in the air. Derek started to tell his brother to come down, when he saw him start to panic.
   "Derek," he shouted. "The fog. It's disappeared down there."
   He'd been looking up the whole time, and hadn't noticed the first tier of stairs was completely gone. The atmosphere had shifted and the fog was clearing.
   "What do I do?" his brother shouted.
   Derek looked around frantically. He could feel the absurdity as he looked for anything to help. A pole that long, a jet pack, a plane flying low. He panicked even more at thought. They weren't in a flight path, but it was always a possibility that a plane could fly overhead.
   "Look," Derek said, and pointed a little higher.
   There was a cloud drifting near his little brother.
   "Use the fog to get to the cloud."
   His brother used the same technique he'd been doing, and clambered his way a little higher up to the cloud. At first he could only see a faint outline of his little brother, but then he popped his head over the side and waved.
   "It feels like the softest pillow in the world," his brother said with a smile in his voice that betrayed the nerves they both had a moment ago.
   "Most clouds sink," Derek shouted. "They must be a little different than the fog. Can you try jumping on the cloud?"
   He held his breath as he watched him start bouncing on the cloud. There was always the possibility that he would break through, and his brother would careen towards the ground. Derek thought he would try to catch him. It'd be better for them both to be hurt or dead than to just watch him splatter on the grass.
   The cloud slowly started to lower back down. Both of them whooped and hollered. As it got closer to the pavilion Derek pulled out one of the picnic tables and clambered up to the top. As the cloud floated just above the pavilion he dove onto it next to his brother. He sank down into the cloud, but it held his weight. The two laughed uncontrollably as the cloud sank the rest of the way to the ground.