Freelancing

Abstract

Freelancing Stan Hollingworth (bio) When the alarm rang, Lisa struggled into a standing position. A dull ache rested just behind her eyes and her mouth was dry. Trudging into the guest cottage kitchen, she pushed a button on a coffee maker. The digital display indicated six o'clock. The cottage was a quaint addition to a spacious, custom home in an affluent suburb of sprawling lawns and tree-lined streets. Lisa wasn't a guest; she and her husband, Kevin, owned the valuable but heavily-mortgaged property. She had adopted the guest house as a sanctuary from marital and financial problems. With a cup of steaming coffee, she sat in a breakfast nook. For a few moments, she drifted into visual memories of better times. She and Kevin were hosting a pool party for friends and business associates. Conversation and laughter filled the backyard as the smell of grilled seafood and steak wafted over an array of guests. A door slamming in the main house brought Lisa back to the present. An engine growled as Kevin started his aging BMW and backed from the driveway. Lisa finished her coffee and quickly dressed. She left the cottage and approached the house, passing a water-starved lawn and an empty swimming pool. Entering a spacious kitchen that was once state of the art but now needed upgrades, she rushed down a long hallway and paused in front of a bedroom door. She turned the knob and teased the door open. Stepping through a maze of electric guitars, amplifiers, and video game equipment, she made her way to the bedside of her fourteen-year-old son, Barry. Tall for his age with long hair and pale skin, he was sprawled among pillows and blankets. She gently nudged his shoulder until his eyes opened. "Barry," she whispered. "It's time for school." "I'm not going today," he mumbled. "Get out of my room." "You have to go, honey," she continued. "You know what the counselor said. Any more absences and you might not move on to high school." "Screw the counselor," Barry said. "Get out of my room." Lisa bit her lip and brushed hair from her forehead. She had always been insecure as a mother. Unassertive and lacking the knack for child-rearing, she struggled from the day Barry was born. If he cried or fussed as an infant, she always picked him up. As a toddler and preschooler, she bought him whatever he asked for or pointed at in a store. His room filled [End Page 59] with every gadget and toy imaginable. As he grew older, the toys changed to expensive electronic devices. Kevin, who had been ambivalent about having a child, spent as little time as possible with his son. School and Barry clashed from the first day of kindergarten. He couldn't cope with a world that didn't treat him as his mother did. Either he was uncooperative and sat alone for days at a time or he acted out in clever, devious ways. He was passed from one grade to another because the school district didn't know what else to do with him. Now, in the last year of middle school, he had become sullen and distant. "Listen, honey," Lisa pleaded, sitting on the bed. "If you go to school until the end of the grading period, which is only two weeks away, I'll buy you two tickets to a rock festival in the city this weekend. You can take one of your friends." Showing signs of life, Barry peered at his mother. "How about two of my friends?" he asked. When Lisa agreed, he pushed himself up and rummaged through clothes strewn about the room. He pulled on an extra-large sweatshirt, worn jeans, and high-top canvas sneakers. Lisa rushed to the kitchen and made a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast. After eating a piece of toast he'd dipped into an egg yolk, Barry left the rest untouched. Lisa retrieved Barry's backpack from his room. Together they walked to the car. ________ Kevin maneuvered from one lane to another through congested morning traffic. His hair was pulled back into...