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She bought the first one at a yard sale when she was twelve: a turtle made of seashells, glistening with shellac, on a wooden base that said “The Bahamas.” In her landlocked bedroom, she held it in her palm and basked in tropical warmth, and the sound of the ocean swept everything else away.
Two years after the wedding, she found the magnet with the dice and the roulette wheel, “Las Vegas” in splashy script. Tracing her fingers over it, she tasted apple martinis in a dingy kitchen that held nothing stronger than cheap beer. She sat for hours listening to the click of the chips, the rasping flutter of shuffled cards, everything bold and bright, everything possible with the next hand.
The pewter Eiffel Tower came from a thrift shop, buying clothes for the youngest. When he finally went down for his nap and the third load of laundry was in the dryer, she held the model close to her face until she could see the lights, the people waiting to go up. She sat at a café sipping strong dark coffee while golden light fell through the afternoon. There was no rush, nothing more to be done but let the conversations wash over her like ripples slowly expanding: the quiet talk of long friends, the murmurs of lovers, the laughter of children not hers.
The last one she took from her grandchild’s hands, a plastic dome covering a log cabin with pine trees and mountains behind. The letters on the base had faded to “ALAS.” She tipped it back, righted it, and gazed into swirling snow. It was quiet inside, the fire crackling, the quilt heavy. Outside, a storm raged, but it could not touch her, could not touch the calm within, the reveries rising like smoke, sweeter than anything that had ever happened.
Renee Carter Hall works as a medical transcriptionist by day and as a writer, poet, and artist all the time. Her short fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in a variety of publications, including Strange Horizons, Black Static, the Anthro Dreams podcast, and the anthology Bewere the Night. She lives in West Virginia with her husband, their cat, and a ridiculous number of creative works-in-progress.
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SECONDHAND • by Renee Carter Hall,
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18 Responses to “SECONDHAND • by Renee Carter Hall”
Comments
« THE MONTGOLFIER • by Rob Haines | Home | BEHOLDING GREATNESS • by Jim Hawe »
September 27th, 2012 at 12:44 am
I liked it very much until the last line. Just my opinion, but can someone who’s made it to grandmotherhood only have had the most meaningful joy in fantasyworld? Beautiful writing ending in a letdown. Three stars.
September 27th, 2012 at 1:00 am
Twee, but good. Made me think.
September 27th, 2012 at 3:59 am
Elequent and thought provoking. I especially liked ‘…the laughter of children not hers.’
Great job
September 27th, 2012 at 4:35 am
[...] http://www.everydayfiction.com/secondhand-by-renee-carter-hall [...]
September 27th, 2012 at 5:12 am
Really liked this. Told a whole life story in few words.
And yes, there are lonely and disappointed grandmothers out there. Not all children are wonderful, not all grandchildren a blessing.
September 27th, 2012 at 5:46 am
Your story gave me the chills. Wonderfully written.
September 27th, 2012 at 8:20 am
Absolutely gorgeous prose – the line “She sat at a café sipping strong dark coffee while golden light fell through the afternoon” was absolutely rife with beauty! Very well done, indeed. The ending was lovely – particularly the “ALAS.” A tribute to the bucket list that invariably has a few items left unaccomplished when we meet our personal ‘end of days.’
September 27th, 2012 at 8:34 am
A lovely vision.
September 27th, 2012 at 9:45 am
I think this is a beautifully written, evocative story.
September 27th, 2012 at 12:06 pm
Agree with Laura McHale Holland (#9) and others. A beautiful, skillfully-told life story.
September 27th, 2012 at 12:47 pm
So wonderfully poetic. You get swept away by the imagery.
September 27th, 2012 at 3:48 pm
Gorgeous imagery. I get this, and I love it.
September 27th, 2012 at 6:52 pm
Poignant and beautifully written. Loved it.
September 28th, 2012 at 11:23 am
Thank you, Renee, this short short piece is so poignant and so beautifl, I know I will keep it as a favourite and re-read it often.
Lovely writing.
September 28th, 2012 at 11:33 am
Sorry…something obviously went wrong as I was writing that last comment (could have been something to do with my son coming in!) and I hope you realized, the word with half of it missing, should have read: ‘beautiful’.
I found your story ‘poignant’ and ‘beautiful’, Renee.
September 29th, 2012 at 9:48 am
SO good. I loved it.
October 15th, 2012 at 1:12 pm
I really liked it! I enjoyed how you focused on the importance of each item with equal parts implication and directness. I like how the progression of time is shown with each item and how secondhand experiences are made firsthand.
Excellent work, Renee!
December 28th, 2012 at 12:43 pm
[...] I found myself writing a good amount of flash this year and was able to find good homes for “Secondhand,” “Nevermore,” and “Nativity.” (I even had a piece of Twitter fic [...]