On a cloudy but otherwise temperate Sunday in August, the couple made the two hour drive up the turnpike to their favorite furniture store. Pulling into an empty spot, Jack noticed they had replaced the old sign — a wooden box with the name of the store painted on it in green — with a new, electric model. The new curvy letters spelling out “Dunkin’s Furniture” in neon red offended his eyes in some subconscious way.
Cutting the engine, neither one moved for a while.
“Ready?” Jack finally asked.
“Yeah,” his wife answered.
He got out but when he turned around, she was still sitting in the car, looking at her hands.
“Gwen?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah I’m coming.”
She slowly got out of the car. They held hands and he whispered into her ear, “If you don’t want to do this. That is to say, if you aren’t ready…” He let the idea stand alone.
“I have to. I…I want to.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “Okay,” he said again, this time for himself.
Hand in hand, they walked to the front doors in silence.
“This new sign is obscene,” she said.
Jack started to laugh. It felt tight at first, catching in his throat. But soon it came easily. His laugh was short lived but as they browsed the aisles he found they were enjoying their shopping despite themselves.
Not much of a shopper, Jack let Gwen take the lead.
“Jack, how nice would this end table look next to the living room couch?” She would ask.
“Oh yes, I can see it now,” he would smile back. He was starting to get used to this smiling thing again.
A salesclerk, tall as a basketball player, came over to them in long strides. His skin was dark and his hair hugged his scalp. He had a large smile, the one that only those who have never lost someone close to them can use. One that Jack and Gwen would never have again, Jack thought angrily and then he felt ashamed. He managed to flash what passed for a smile.
“Hi there, welcome to Dunkin’s. Do you need any help finding anything?”
“Nope,” Jack said, hands in pockets, still feeling slightly guilty. “I think we’re just browsing.”
“Okay, that’s great.” He flashed that smile again. “Let me know if I can help.” Another salesclerk called to him and he rushed off towards her with those long legs.
Gwen was finally ready an hour later. They had two carts full of things that Gwen assured Jack would look excellent in their house.
Business was slow (probably the new sign, Jack thought), so the line was short and soon they were face to face with the tall, black man whom they had met earlier.
“Ah, just browsing, were we?” he said, with a laugh.
“One thing leads to another,” Jack said, glancing at Gwen. Gwen just smiled politely.
When he had finished scanning their items, the man — whose name tag informed them was called Bryan — asked for their last name and address for a discount card. Jack told him and he plugged it in.
“Oh, well, it looks like you have a layaway item here. Only one more payment left and it’s yours.”
Jack and Gwen exchanged puzzled looks.
“We didn’t have anything on layaway. Are you sure it’s our account?” He asked.
“Yes, same last name, same address. The first name is Tom?”
At first Jack assumed there had been a terrible earthquake, the lights in his head dimmed and the floor gave out. His stomach, on the way to his throat, told him that he was falling. He wasn’t falling, and the lights were as bright as ever but it took him a long time to realize it. He instinctively looked to Gwen. She was holding on — she was very strong — but the tears were working their way out one drop at a time.
“Oh,” Jack managed to get out. “Oh, that is… that was our son.”
Bryan looked back and forth to each of them, confused. In his mind, he was racing to make the connection that Jack was too weak to come out and say.
Ding! The light bulb went off in a burst of horrible understanding. That smile was not on his face anymore.
“I. Am. So. Sorry,” he said, one word at a time. “I… I,” but he didn’t know what else to say. Finally, “I’ll just refund you the money and get you checked out and — ”
“No”
Jack turned around, but to his surprise, Gwen was not crying. She was standing erect and steady.
“No, I think I want to take it. What is it anyway?”
Bryan took a long time to break his eyes away from her to check on the screen. “It’s a chair,” he stumbled, “a wooden chair.”
“And how much?”
Bryan was falling apart. Unraveling at the seams. “Um, it’s, uh, seventy. Seventy dollars,” he whispered. Gwen stepped forward, as Jack stood in silence, and paid Bryan who had begun to shake visibly.
The car, now loaded down with furniture, was emotionally heavy too. They sat — Jack driving, Gwen starring at her hands — for a long time. Occasionally one would cry but only a few tears and then would be silent again. It was Gwen who finally spoke.
“Tom,” her voice shook a little, “had everything he wanted, right?”
“I think so, Gwen.”
“His room had plenty of chairs, lots of seating.”
“Yeah, I never heard him complain.”
Now she had started to cry again, and Jack cried too.
“Why didn’t he just ask for another chair? I would have gotten him one, but he never said anything?”
Jack didn’t answer, couldn’t answer for a long time.
“You were a great parent, Gwen,” he said, looking straight down the road.
After a pause, “So were you,” she said, slipping her fingers into his and holding tight.
The chair bounced around in the trunk, and as night descended, the clouds opened up a sky full of stars.
Jameson Parker attends Penn State University full time and writes stories when he can.
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18 Responses to “LAYAWAY • by Jameson Parker”
Comments
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November 29th, 2009 at 7:40 am
This was a wonderful story, very touching and real. I honestly felt Jack and Gwen’s emotions as they found out about the chair and thought about Tom. Excellent writing!
November 29th, 2009 at 9:34 am
This story was going along fine for a while, but I felt that it fizzled out at the end. One problem I had was not being able to figure out how old Tom had been when they lost him … was he indeed old enough to do a layaway in his own name? And the last paragraph seemed to have nothing to do with anything.
The new sign was a bit of a red herring, too. At one point I half expected them to pull a stick of dynamite out of the car and demolish the offensive new sign, but then the story went somewhere else.
This one just didn’t seem to hang together too well.
November 29th, 2009 at 10:11 am
I loved this story. The simplicity of the story meshed with the couples emotions is very powerful. I think the best part is when Jack is shameful for resenting Bryan’s happiness. I am right there, in the scene, and I feel uncomfortable and ashamed right along with Jack.
I really enjoy your style of writing! The nature of the story is to avoid explaining every detail, and this makes it all that much better!
November 29th, 2009 at 12:11 pm
I agree with poster #3. This story is real. You did a great job of explaining the necessary details of how Jack and Gwen were feeling, without making the readers feel very sorry for them before they know what is going on. It is amazing that you were able to portray that emotion through furniture browsing. But after reading this story, I’m pretty sure you can do anything.
November 29th, 2009 at 12:14 pm
And I also really like that the couple dwells on the change of the sign so much. Hardly a “red-herring”.
November 29th, 2009 at 12:15 pm
Good story, However I would have liked more about the chair.Discription. Reason for Tom wanting it etc. Perhaps a gift for the parents. Just seemed a little flat in the ending.
November 29th, 2009 at 1:44 pm
Touching story with a heck of a shocking surprise. The parent/child relationship needed a bit more clarity or exploration for me to understand the significance of the chair. It’s the ‘why’ that needs answering. The deep feelings from the situation are understandable and sympathizable, it’s just the storyline that needs tightening.
November 29th, 2009 at 2:48 pm
This was okay, but needed a bit more time under the lathe to get it to where it needs to be. Jim (#2) already mentioned that this fizzled a bit toward the end. I think this is because the revelation of the deceased son, had come and gone and the characters are left fumbling around. The exchange between Gwen and Jack about the chairs is confusing. Like Jim, I had it in my mind the son was a child, but after the end, I wasn’t sure how old he was supposed to be.
The other thing that didn’t seem to click in this story: The couple approaches the furniture store with some trepidation. I had the sense, and later the certainty, that they’d lost a child early on and their trip the the store was going to be tough because of some connection between the lost child and the store. However, when they find out about the item on layaway it comes as a total surprise to both of them. We never learn why the trip the furniture store was such an emotional challenge in the first place.
Finally, the last exchange fell with a bit of a thud. “You were a great parent.” ? Teachers, coworkers, neighbors and perhaps some old school blue blood families call you (or each other) a “parent”. Inside the family unit it’s usually something a little more familiar. (Mom, mother, mommy, etc.).
–John
November 29th, 2009 at 4:23 pm
Perhaps I am the only one here who has had firsthand experience with what Jack and Gwen are going through–at least I hope so. It’s understandable that the two of them are discombobulated. Lord knows I still get that way, years later.
My sympathy ends with the narrator, though. The grieving parents don’t make much sense and that’s all right, but the storyteller needs to. As J. C. pointed out, we are never told why the furniture store is such a sore point. I recognized early on that they were bereaved, but the thread is never followed through. I thought perhaps they were going to turn his bedroom into a second living room; but then Tom wouldn’t have been old enough to put something on layaway if her were still at Mom’s and Dad’s, unless he was one of those unfortunate young men who never come out of the basement. Then the remark about his having plenty of seating and they would’ve bought him another doesn’t fit.
I agree that the story needs once more around the park to make it work as it should. Much better for them to have *known* about the layaway and therefore dreading the trip. We had moments like that after our son died and we had to tie up his loose ends. A year later we were still experiencing that, and every time it cut open the wound again.
November 29th, 2009 at 5:29 pm
This is a very moving story with a sad mood that hangs over the piece from the beginning. It is of course any parent’s nightmare to lose a child so it is easy to identify with the couple and with Bryan, too, who is very kind and handles a terrible situation with much kindness. The dialogue is sparse but effective and feels real, like the way two parents would talk, just trying to get through it all when they have suffered the biggest loss imaginable.
I hope you keep up the terrific writing!
November 29th, 2009 at 6:32 pm
When you’re bereaved, there are places you have to force yourself to go regardless of how much you’re hurting: The grocery store, the gas station, the bank, etc. You have to go no matter how much those places remind you of your lost loved one and no matter how much it hurts. But a furniture store? That’s a completely elective trip; if it’s so very painful, why go at all?
That’s the part of the story that lost me. I simply couldn’t understand why the characters were forced to deal with so much pain. Did they have a furniture emergency?
November 29th, 2009 at 7:31 pm
I liked the story, but I was also confused about why they were at a furniture store bereaving their lost son, and wondering if he had enough chairs . . . it made me wonder if he committed suicide – is this why they need new furniture? I know it’s gruesome, but unfortunately I had a relative who shot himself and the clean up was done by someone else – but furniture had to be replaced too.
November 29th, 2009 at 9:03 pm
Did the son die at the furniture store? Did he use to own it and now it belongs to a ‘new’ owner with a tacky taste in signs? There were some good moments in this story, but, too many unanswered questions. With a bi of tightening here and there, it could be a contender.
November 30th, 2009 at 4:16 pm
a very good story…interesting twist….somewhat depressing..however, I enjoyed it and it was done by my grandson….
Keep up the good work Jamie..
Grandpa Stan
November 30th, 2009 at 5:20 pm
A good story. Not perfect: and many other comments go into this. Even those that think the story needs more work have felt compelled to comment. I think this fact is testament to a story that communicates emotion.
December 2nd, 2009 at 1:49 pm
I agree with J.C (#8) and Sharon (#9). There’s a nice kernel of a story here, but it needs some serious editing. The continuity problems that J.C. and others mention, plus more than a few incidents of really clunky prose makes this one a no-go for me.
December 2nd, 2009 at 3:59 pm
We really are a tough bunch, aren’t we?
December 4th, 2009 at 1:15 pm
I really like this story, I like the emotion in it. It’s hard for a lot of people to see past a the words and see the story. I agree with Rachel, I’m pretty sure you can write anything.