Rings of Jupiter

Another story competition, and a new approach.

Past experience has taught me that I write dialogue pretty well, but need to work on getting deeper into the head of my character. So this time, I wrote an entire short story as the interior monologue of a father waiting for his daughter to return from her date. No dialogue, no scene setting.

Let me know what you think!

An ex-spy uses the tricks of his trade to keep tabs on his teenage daughter.

Rings of Jupiter

Who did she think she was, really? Dad’s an ex-spook and she’s running wild? It was unbelievable.

Nearly curfew. On a Friday night. With Derek. Dingbat Derek. Dumbass Derek.

She was just pushing her boundaries? Isn’t that what Frank had said at Coffee Club last week? Teenagers need to push boundaries. Said she’d be fine. Well, no. Not fine. Not his daughter. Little Leah. He’d install some new boundaries. A goddam wall of boundaries. Stick to your alfalfa farm, Frank.

The clarity on the new MotionSense BetaX, though. Wow. Totally worth the investment. An ex-spook with resources is a dangerous man. The wide angle nicely captured the circular driveway in 4k diopter digital clarity. Showed the discoloration on the concrete, however, even at night. Power wash the driveway tomorrow? There goes the water bill. Didn’t Derek’s dad run a power washing company? Out of a van? Or was it a car washing company? That was it. Car wash franchises all over the Great Plains. Dynasty Derek.

Pan left, pan right, horizontal field of view better than one hundred degrees, he could see any approach along Route 92.  Ingress and egress.

Tilt up, was that Jupiter? Bright tonight. Zoom. Maybe he could see the rings. No wait, Saturn had the rings? Janet would have known. Janet wouldn’t be stalking their daughter with the BetaX on a clear night like this. She’d be out in the yard with her telescope scanning the heavens. Pointing out constellations to Leah. Telling those old college stories about her time studying from Mauna Kea. God, to meet a woman like that. Just once in your life. She was a meteor. Burned bright but quick. Tilt the BetaX just over the corn field and towards Signal Hill, he might be able to see the taller obelisks and mausoleums in the cemetery.

If Derek put his dirty, horny, bumper-waxing hands on Leah, he’d wake up in the cemetery tomorrow too. What was she even thinking? Going to college in the fall, and he was supposed to trust that she could handle herself out there with all these…these boys with their…and their whole casual hookup culture and their…the undeveloped pre-frontal cortex was really the issue. Kids these days couldn’t be expected to juggle their hormones along with TikTok and the war and gas prices and global warming. It really wasn’t Leah’s fault.

Back in his day, with Janet, it was different.

Well, before Janet…was that Haile’s dad that pulled the gun, or Lisa’s? Well-deserved in retrospect, of course. Tip of the cap to you, Mr. Lisa’s Dad, wherever you are. Heavy petting in the back seat of Lisa’s Ford Taurus right in front of her house? What a fox, though. Then she cheated on him at Prom. Wasn’t that jackass named Derek too? Who could remember? No, it was Joel. That’s right, kid had a stutter but the girls liked his blue eyes. Keyed Joel’s car in the parking lot after the dance. Kids are stupid, that’s the point. Leah would appreciate this someday.

Almost curfew, here comes a car. Nope, false alarm. Driving awful fast, though, huh buddy? Good luck dodging deer leaping out of the corn field while you’re blowing through at 85. Derek better not be driving recklessly. Or drunk. Legal age was still 21, right? ‘Course it was 18 back when Flip Thompson and the Wannamaker kid raced the train and lost. 18 but really 16 was close enough. My ID, sir? Oh, I must have left it in my other pants.

Here we go. Doddering Derek’s Dodge pickup couldn’t do 85 if you filled it with jet fuel. Well, that’s a relief. Yeah, park right in front of the house, you dope. Let’s see what this BetaX can do.

Leah’s still wearing her cable knit sweater. Relief. Zoom. No beverages apparent in the cup holders but no visual on Derek at this angle. Oh, here we go. Getting out and…walking her to the door? No? Meeting at the hood for…an embrace. God damn it.

What are they talking about? What you really want is audio coverage of the front grounds. And probably the back terrace and the rec room in the basement. Not her bedroom, of course. Too far. No boys in the bedroom anyway. Ever.

Holding hands. Bet he’s sweating. Sweaty palms are a turnoff. Pulling Derek towards the bed of the pickup? What? Lowering the lift gate and helping her into the bed? Hand on the small of her back?

Would the pump-action 12 gauge make the bigger impression for blunt intimidation, or the AR-15? Any idiot who’s seen a Schwarzenegger flick knows you’re in for a world of shit when the AR comes out. Diarrhea Derek.

He’s got pillows in the bed of the truck? What kind of lothario…leaning against the cab, his arm around her shoulders and…she’s pointing up? Derek’s looking along her arm, seeing what she sees. Where? Zoom out. Approximately… Southeast. Jupiter. Boy, it’s moved a lot in the past few hours.

Does she still remember her mother’s stories about the constellations? Is she telling Derek about Castor and Pollux, the twins?  Or the Scorpius constellation, that’s right. After Leah was stung in the ankle by an actual scorpion. Eighth grade? She’s pointing to her ankle now. Of course. Telling Derek about it. How it only hurt like a mild shotgun blast. Didn’t cry when Janet pressed the cold pack, wrapped her in her arms. She was a brave kid. Didn’t cry, actually…didn’t cry until she told the story at the funeral. In front of all those people. Said it was one of her last moments with her mom. Maybe it’s braver to cry in front of everyone.

And now she’s laughing at something. They both are. Just two kids laughing together under that big dark canopy.

OK, enough BetaX. Let’s leave ‘em be. There’s got to be something good on TCM.