Walter Garcia

08/04/2009

Glossy and Green

Jerry left his drawer open after he fished out a fresh pair of white gym socks. He nearly killed himself as he half hobbled himself, half-dressed, on his way to his small, one bedroom apartment's kitchen. Jerry's favorite green mug was all ready and waiting for him on his kitchen counter, right next to the automatic coffee maker. He had prepared the coffee grounds in the night before, so the steaming hot coffee was ready to serve.

The glossy green surface of his favorite mug shone proudly, reflecting Jerry's frantic behavior: bouncing around the small kitchen, trying to get any kind of food out of his kitchen cabinet and into his empty stomach with his right hand, while his left hand finish getting his other sock on his bare left foot. Jerry looked frantically in his pantry for a box of toaster pastries, only to find the flimsy cardboard box empty and barren. He crushed it and flung it back in the cupboard where he had found it, and continued to hunt down something to eat around his kitchen. He cursed himself for not going shopping for food earlier in the week.

Time was not on his side as he glanced for the fraction of the second he allowed himself to look at his wrist watch, and gasped in horror!He was now going to be five minutes late to his trigonometry class and he couldn't afford to loose any more time looking for food. It was a long class and would be a while before he could eat anything, be he didn't care anymore; he had to get out of his house as soon as possible.

He ran to his automatic coffee pot and reached for his glossy green mug. It still was patiently waiting for him on the kitchen counter top, just as it had always cheerfully served him for the last 3 years since he started college. Black coffee jumped suddenly into the smooth inside of the mug, filling up so fast that it started to overflow, spilling over the glossy green rim of the mug, and onto Jerry's bare skin! It scalded his skin to a bright searing red.

Jerry screamed and howled in pain, “Aaaaaagh!!! Fu-aaaaaghg Grrrrr,” and held in other profanities left said for worst times than this. As he yelped in agony, and let go of his molten hot green mug, he brought up his hand up and ran to his sink. He did not think of being late any longer, or eating any kinds of food any more; Jerry only wanted to feel the cold rush of water now, rushing out of his silver faucet like healing waters out of an ancient arctic glacier.

He let out a big sigh. He opened his eyes, just realizing that they had been shut tightly for quite a while now. A few minutes had gone by and Jerry just stood by the sink, his hand still under the steady stream of water, the throbbing in his hand subsiding finally. He turned off the faucet and held his dripping had up to the morning sunlight through his window to examine the damage. “This is going to take a while to heal,” he muttered. He let out another big sigh, finally coming out of his stupor and into reality again.

He didn't know now how late he was going to be to class. But now that he thought about it, he didn't seem to care any more. He was always late to class any way, and this finally gave Jerry an excuse to drop the class. “What's the point,” he thought, a dull pain creeping over his hand, like a venom spreading, “the teacher doesn't even like me anyways.” He stepped out of his kitchen to bandage his scalded hand when he felt an uncomfortable crunch under his feet.

Jerry froze, and his eyes flew wide open. “Oh, Grandma, I'm so sorry,” he muttered solemnly with deep regret fluttering around his voice as he said this. His Grandmother's gift had been the big glossy green mug, which was now laying in pieces on his linoleum kitchen floor. He would never have heard the small porcelain crash over his frantic screaming over his scalded hand. Brown coffee and porcelain shards lined the floor under his feet. Jerry squatted down to the floor and sat there staring; he reached to rake his fingers through still warm coffee on the floor and the shards of his broken mug.

A lump had started to swell in his throat. His Grandmother had given him that coffee mug as a reminder to always stay awake and alert to all his college classes. She had been very proud of her last grandson, and always encouraged him when now one else in his family did. She had passed away during his first year of college and the green mug was the only reminder of his grandmother's wish and the little encouragement he had to a better life.

Suddenly, Jerry stood up, the fire in his hand suddenly transfered to his chest and swelled with unexpected pride. “I won't let you or me down, Grandma. Not again,” said Jerry out loud. He finished putting his shoes on, grabbed his pack off his couch and around his back, and burst out the front door of his small apartment. He faced yet another school day, regardless of his tardiness and minor injury. The door slammed shut, and all that was heard outside of the small living room was the sound of a car engine turning on and tires squealing away.

The living room clock struck its seconds with a steady click. The refrigerator's hum filled the kitchen's ambient with a peaceful purr. A green shard of porcelain gleamed proudly in the sunlight of the linoleum kitchen floor.