The Ink Well Fast and Furious Festival || Day Four

This is Day 4 of the Fast & Furious Festival.

Twenty days of fast and furious writing, reading, commenting and having fun. Every day for twenty days, there will be a new prompt focusing on a different aspect of writing each day from character development and dialogue to setting and style and everything in between.

You can find out more about it HERE

fastfurious writing challenge.gif

Task

Choose one item from each section: A, B, C and D.
...develop your story: a main character (the protagonist from A) with a problem (from B), a secondary character (possibly an antagonist from C) and the seemingly insurmountable obstacle (from D) to overcoming or coming to terms with the problem.

In your story, show us how you get from the beginning to the end, how the main character is thinking about or dealing with the problem, the other character and the obstacle, including the resolution to the story's conflict.

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"Last in, first out", she had told me nonchalantly. "We wish we could keep every single one of you, but if we did that the ship will sink with all of us. We apologise, and we will compensate as the labour laws require. We do want to thank you for your service with us for the last 3 years."

Who are "we"? How convenient to blanket them all with a "we", so not one person needs to feel guilty. That was at the start of this bloody pandemic. Had I saved enough? Of course not!!. Did I get enough compensation, that was going to see me through until things got better? No, 3 years service doesn't cover much. Compensation of 3 months was nothing. Finding another job was quite impossible.

Selling Teh Tarek on a bicycle was not my first choice. But desperate times call for desperate measures. It cost me little to start up, working on the tightest of tight budgets. My sweet wife pleaded that I should buy a bike instead, but apart from the price, there'd be daily petrol to worry about, so nah! Besides, the bicycle gave this idea a quaint touch. People seemed fascinated with a young, good-looking man, speaking both English and Bahasa well, selling Teh Tarek by the roadside. In fact, I was featured in the newspapers, and videos of me went viral.

But not everyone was impressed with an engineer who had lost his job in this Covid crisis and found a way to keep going. Since this episode of my life started, every evening, pots and pans banged in the kitchen. She lamented of how harsh her life was and how she must have angered the gods by not letting her daughter marry in their own faith. She never really liked me, and only tolerated me because she only had her daughter to take care of her. But since then, her wrath came out in the most cowardly fashion. She wouldn't say it to my face, just under her breath, loud enough.

The first few weeks, I hid the misfortune from both of them. Suri was 3 months pregnant then, and I didn't want to worry her. But eventually, dressing up and hiding in the car park while scouring the net and job portals, took its toll, considering, it was lockdown, and I was not allowed to leave home. I sure as hell, didn't want to get caught, fines and jail time wasn't worth it though it might have been better than listening to her- like chalk running across the blackboard. Two weeks was as long as I could before I told them what had happened.

My dear wife, the love of life, had taken my hand, looked deep into my eyes, and told me that we were in this together. That love was through good times and bad. But that vow was only for husband and wife, not for son-in-law and mother-in-law.

When it rains, it pours they say and so that day arrived. When I cycled back, head-heavy with too many thoughts and chest aching from cycling uphill with an almost full 10 ltr Milk Tea can. How do you tell your loved ones, especially one that didn't love you back, that you were infected with the virus and I had to quarantine at home? The healthcare system was at breaking point, and they had given strict instructions to go straight home and self-quarantine while waiting for their call back. I didn't want to infect Lil Joey or Suri, I wouldn't have minded MIL so much.

The old lady had already ripped into me every evening, shredding my dignity to pieces, making my wife cry, sometimes even the baby since the day she found out. And when the baby cried, she'd carry him and coo, telling him that it'd be alright. Even if his Daddy wasn't man enough to care for him, his grandmother would.

When I cycled into the front yard and leaned the bicycle, against the wall, she started on cue. I wondered if she could smell me, or did she just wait by the window, playing all the different ways she could kick a man while he was down?

"Ahhhh, what have I done to deserve this. Muna is so blessed. Her son-in-law got her a 65 inch TV to watch her serials while stuck at home during this lockdown. So worried for her, he is. Me? I must have been a bad, bad person in my last birth for this curse. God, take me already. How can I watch my daughter and grandson suffer like this? My heart breaks."

Suri's voice calming her, "Amma, we are ok. He is trying his best. This is temporary."

"Aiyoh! Your father will be rolling in his grave. His one and only beloved daughter shamed like this, married to a tea seller. Please, God, take me already. I cannot watch my poor grandson growing up in such conditions."

I had stepped in, the only way she'd stop. And true enough, as if I was a plague, she rushed off into the kitchen and started making dinner, noisily. Suri, looked at me with pleading eyes. Her mother was, after all, only speaking the truth. Perhaps I should have made smarter choices. Why did I buy a house and a car I couldn't afford? Yes, to be worthy of Suri and more so her mother. The mortgage was killing me, and thank goodness I managed to sell the Merc. Suri's Honda was enough for the necessities. Suri had inherited some money, and her sweet, generous heart, automatically took care of baby's needs and sometimes even some bills without asking.

"Why are you home so early, Darsh? You managed to finish all that tea?", she asked as she stepped towards me. But I stepped away and shook my head. I held up my wrist that had the pink tag to identify me as someone with Covid. I nodded and pointed upstairs to our room. I showed her my phone, indicating I will message her. I could see, a thousand questions flitting through her eyes as she watched me run up the stairs.

I messaged her of my condition and situation. After all, serving at least 300 strangers a day should have had us prepared for the inevitable. I told her to go stay with her cousin. It would be safer.

That was 10 days ago. I just went for another swab test. I have tested negative. They can't explain why I tested positive the last time. Anyways, before I tell Suri, I have to decide what to do with my life. I can't put their lives at risk by going back to selling tea on the streets. So now what?

The phone rang. It was Suri. I wasn't ready to talk to her. I also have a missed call from her and 5 messages-- 3 from Suri, one from a stranger, and one from my ex-boss. I clicked on the stranger's first.

Hi Darshan. We are a TV company interested in having you host a show. We'll be sending you an exercise bicycle which you will cycle through the 30-minute show while you interview people who have found ways to survive this crazy covid through Zoom. It's called Riding Your Best Life. Just for formality, could you send us a recording of how you'd do that? We'll send you the script. Call us and let's talk.

I read it 3 times. What? I clicked on my boss's message.

Hello Darshan. Hope you are well. We have an opening for your position. We would like to have you come back. We can't offer you more at the moment, but it's up for discussion at the end of this year.

In a daze, I clicked on Suri's message.

Darsh, please call me as soon as you get this message. The ambulance just took Amma to the hospital. She suddenly collapsed, complaining she couldn't breathe. They say it may be a heart attack. I am not sure what to do. We are not allowed to go with her. Please call.

They say bad things come in threes. So do good things...

My choices were:-
Main Character: A street vendor
Character's Problem: Suffering from COVID-19
Character living with & at odds with: Mother-in-law
The thing preventing my character from solving their problem: Lack of money

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Mid-way, I was tempted to swap the categories because I wasn't sure how to wrap it. But I managed and am quite happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Thank you for reading😊
Till next time, Carpe Diem❣️
Sh33la

Hello @kaerpediem,
A very engaging story. The character is fully developed, and likeable. We also know his wife and his mother-in-law. The conflict is resolved. We want to read about this character, and we can relate to his predicament.

I do have two suggestions. When you introduce the conflict character, the mother-in-law, the transition is a bit confusing.

Since this episode of my life started, every evening, pots and pans banged in the kitchen. She lamented of how harsh her life was and how she must have angered the gods by not letting her daughter marry in their own faith. She never really

Instead of she, you might might say something like: It was my mother-in-law., then go on to 'She lamented....... '

With that simple phrase inserted, the mother-in-law is identified and the reader is able to follow the story more easily.

Also, perhaps giving your mother-in-law a heart attack is a bit much. I know it's supposed to be funny, but somehow a heart attack might not seem funny to everyone :) Your character is so likable, it kind of puts a damper on him.

All in all, though, a great exercise.