Bible Gateway

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Writing Prompt 5

"Who would speak first at yours? Pretend they also had interventions for less serious things than drugs and alcohol. What might people intervene you about? Describe the unlikely intervention in a parody or descriptive piece."

“Hey,” Candy said. “What’s everyone doing at my house?” The blonde bombshell walked from her car to the front door. There she was greeted by her dad who appeared to be more at home with her house than she’d have liked.

“Candance, c’mon in and sit down.” Dad had a stern voice. He only used this voice with her when she’d done something wrong.

“Is everything okay?”

“We’ve arranged for you to sit in the zero gravity chair.” Dad gently guided her through the dining room and into the den.

Her entire family gathered in the room. Both brothers and her little sister with all their spouses and children had made themselves comfortable in her den. Candy ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t like this at all. These people appeared as though they lived here. They needed to go home. They made her uncomfortable. She sat in the chair and bounced her legs.

Dad entered the den and nodded to Mom, “Hon, you go first,” he said.

Mom extracted herself from a lap full of grandchildren and came to squat in front of Candy. She took a deep breath and seemed to measure her words carefully. She hated it when her mom acted this way. It’s all the drama she hated. Her family had an incredible talent for making nothing into something gargantuan. Drama, Drama, Drama, she shook her head in frustration.

“Candance Marie Stanton,” Mom said and patted her knee. “Why do you think that you’re having closet trouble?”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Candy said, looking up at her dad who stood behind her chair. “I called a carpenter out this week, he’s gonna enlarge it.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Mom said. “Why do you think you’re having closet trouble?”
She shook her head. This was ridiculous. “I have too much stuff in my closet.”

“And what kind of stuff takes up most of the room?”

“Mother, you know. Why are you asking anyways?” Candy looked around the room. She noticed her little sister crying and her husband comforting her. “What’s going on here? Am I on some type of reality T.V. prank show?”

“We are very concerned for you,” Dad said as he brushed a wisp of hair out of her face.

“This is serious,” Mom said. “We’ve been distraught with worry for your situation.”

“There is no situation,” she said. “It’s only a carpenter coming to enlarge my closet.”

“Are you trying to force me to say it?” Tears welled up in Mom’s eyes. “I wanted you to say it. That’s the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.”

“What problem?” Candy leaped out of the zero gravity chair and stomped toward the door. “I don’t have a problem. But y’all sure do. I’m leaving.”

Bubba, her eldest brother, stood at the exit and wouldn’t allow her to pass. “Move it,” she said.

“Not until you listen to Mom and Dad.” Bubba folded his arms across his chest.

“You too?” Apparently, she was going to have to reason with these folks to get them to leave her home.

“Listen people, I don’t have a problem. I’m only having a little remodeling done. It’s nothing expensive and I assure you that I can’t take care of it financially.”

“You think this is about money?” Monty her other brother leaped off the couch and came straight toward her.
“You have a problem, Candance. You need to realize that you need help. Can’t you see we’re all here to support you? We care about you.”

“Tell me again what my problem is?” Of course, aliens could’ve landed and taken control over her entire family’s bodies. That would certainly cause this madness. For the life of her she couldn’t make sense of this family meeting.

Mom stood and came near her, standing between her and Monty. “My darling daughter, do we need to take you to your room and show you, your closet?”

“No,” she said. “I know what’s in my closet.”

“Tell me what’s in your closet,” Mom said as she took her hands and kissed them, murmuring something about her poor baby.

“There’s clothes,” she said.

“And what else?” mom said.






“Of what?”


“Thank God she finally said it,” Dad clapped for joy.

“Can’t you see?” Mom wiped tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “Sweetness, you have a serious shoe addiction. We’ve gathered here today for a shoe intervention. Come back and sit down.”

“Sally? Are you ready?” Dad motioned for her to rise. Then he directed his next statement to Candy. “Sally has written you a letter?”

“Why?” Candy said. “We’re next door neighbors.”

“Hush and listen, honey,” Mom held her hands between her own.

Sally stood and cleared her throat. “Candance, we’ve been friends for almost two weeks now. It has been a wonderful time of fellowship and fun…”

Candy rolled her eyes. During that time they’d only spoken once and that was when she took homemade cinnamon rolls over to welcome her to the neighborhood.

“We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve been genuinely moved by either other triumphs and failures…”

What was she talking about? They haven’t ever spoken three sentences strung together.

“Try to recognize your problem. Try to see that your family loves you and only wants what’s best for you.
Please I beg of you stop the insanity. Stop buying shoes.”

At this point, everyone in the room was moved to tears. Hiccupping accompanied sniffling. A tissue box was passed around the room. This was not her family. Where was the alien spaceship? She looked out the window.

“I want you to know,” Bubba said. “I know what you’re going through. I too was once addicted to arch support socks. I couldn’t buy enough of them. They just felt so good on my feet. I suppose we’re two of a kind.”

She shivered as she thought about her brother’s stinky feet. She couldn’t imagine what her sister-in-law saw in him.

“Joanie,” Mom addressed Candy’s little sister. “What do you have to say?”

“I wanted to write a letter,” she said. “But I guess I’m not that great with words.” She cried. Not a glistening tear on her cheek, but a full out uncontrollable weeping. “Please…get…better,” She hiccupped.

“If I promise you guys that I won’t buy anymore shoes,” Candy said. “Will y’all leave?”

“Well, that all depends on you,” Dad said.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sincere?” he said. “Or are you just saying what we want to hear?”

The latter of course. This insanity had lasted long enough. “Dad I wouldn’t lie to you. I am sincere. I promise I won’t buy anymore stilettos.” That was an easy promise since the doctor told her this week that her knees couldn’t handle her wearing high-heels anymore. The fact was she had to get rid of the high-heels to avoid the temptation to wear them and further damage her knees. “I will even go through my closet and get rid of some of the shoes in my closet.”

“Okay, princess,” Dad said. “I believe you. But if for any reason you can’t hold up to our agreement, I’ll be forced to put you in shoe rehab.”

“That sort of thing really exist?”

“Nope, but we’d lock you in our basement until you came to your senses,” Dad snickered.

Candy didn’t find it so funny. She thought of Kathy Bates in the movie, Misery. Somehow she could see her
mother playing the part.

“Shoe rehab it is, if I’m lying.”

Thank goodness it was all over. The last of her family was leaving when her neighbor Sally hung back to whisper something. “You’re kinfolks are a little loco, aren’t they.”

“Appears so,” she said.

“I didn’t want to do this, you know,” Sally said. “But your mom tempted me with her homemade brownies.”
Candy laughed. On second thought where were those chocolate morsels? She needed a stress reliever.

“Oh, by the way,” Sally said. “May I have the shoes your getting rid of? I just love stilettos.”

Candy shook her head in disbelief. “Sure. Take them.” She thought it was about time to go look for that spaceship.

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