Note from the Author: This story is written in a very specific form, namely the "my arms broke so now xxx person helps me out." I chose this form deliberately as a writing exercise. I have been out of practice for some time so having a structure to the story helped ease the transition back to writing. I hope my contribution to this story form is a pleasurable read. I have more interesting ideas on where to take this story in the future that will not be so predictable. This time I really just wanted to get a solid start. I appreciate your thoughts and comments below. Constructive criticism is welcome as are any volunteers editors. I felt too timid to reach out to one this time.
Thank you,
BuddhaEarl.
*****
The summer of '74 was cold. I lived in a row-house suburb of a large city. Twenty years ago this neighbourhood had been up and coming. Now, it was run down and I was eager to get out. The summer after my high school graduation I had worked hard to earn a full scholarship to a 4 year college out of state. I promised myself I would get a good job and move my mother out of the old neighbourhood. Life had other plans for me.
A knock at the door roused me from a deep sleep. I peered over at the clock and saw it was almost 5 am. I didn't want to get out of bed but the knock was persistent and desperate. As I peered through the peephole I saw Aunt Carolina. That's what I called her. Her real name was Carolina Morales. A forty something woman who had lived next to my mother and I for the last ten years. Her curves were generous but well proportioned. Carolina's flawless caramel skin contrasted with her black uniform. The cold air made her nipples stand out and the peephole was at the perfect height to spot them. Carolina's black, curly hair shone in the morning sun with small wisps of grey at the temples. The touch of grey gave her a distinguished look. I lusted after her all the time but especially during the summer when she would wear the deep red sun dresses she was so fond of. The dresses were low cut in a v-neck that accentuated her breasts and hugged her hips well. The small flair at the bottom of the skirt bounced whenever she took a step. Tantalizing, it promised to show me more but never did.
Unlocking the door I was greeted with her small shivering form. "My car is refusing to start. Can you take a look?" She barely managed to say the words without her teeth chattering. I was no expert with cars but I just finished a year of auto shop. Carolina clutched her arms around her chest to guard against the cold morning air. This had the unintended effect of pushing her breasts into a pair of magnificent swells. Her uniform's hemline plunged deep. I stammered some sort of OK to her request. Grabbing my mother's spare jacket I handed it too her. I watched Carolina's breasts rise and fall with a sort of hypnotic effect while she quickly drew the jacket about her.
Carolina's car was a rusty old junker. It was honestly a miracle that it worked at all. I lifted the hood and used a stick to hold it up. It was immediately obvious that her drive belt had slipped. I began to try and get it back on the pulley.
Leaning over the hood I noticed that Carolina was leaning in too. For a moment that seemed like an eternity I stared in disbelief. She was wearing a skimpy maids outfit. Not the typical kind found in your average motel 6. This was a black velvet dress with white lace frills and a pristine ironed white linen apron. White lace gloves were tucked demurely in her waistband. I never asked what she did for a living; she must have worked in a rich household on the upper east side. Her breasts hung low and I could see down her shirt, she was not wearing a bra. "What a uniform!" I thought. A wisp of salt-and-pepper hair betrayed her age as it hung playfully across her breast. My eyes followed it as they trailed upward to her sensual neck and to onward to her beautiful face. Our eyes met. She saw me glaring. Immediately I began to stammer an apology and in a moment of shame I jerked backward. I slammed my head into the hood of the car. I reared back as the hood slammed down and broke both of my arms just above the wrists. Shouted out in agony and spent the next 10 hours at the emergency room getting both arms put in casts.
Over the next few days my hopes for summer were dashed one by one. My girlfriend waited a whole 4 days before dumping me. She said that this was her last summer for fun before college and decided that with broken hands she was no longer interested in me. Next, I lost my job at a summer camp. That was supposed to give me a nest egg for the coming school year. Finally my father, a rancher in the mid-west, called and said that with my broken hands he could not afford to have me hanging around the farm during the harvest season. I was stranded with two broken hands in the suburbs all alone for three months.
With all the problems I was having handling my day to day affairs my mother arranged for me to spend the daytime at Aunt Carolina's house while she was at work. Carolina readily agreed to watch me. She said it was the least she could do given the fact I had been injured working on her car.
The first day was hazy. My eyes were heavy from the medications and I slept most of the day away. Occasionally I would wake to the dull drone of mid-day television only to drift off again. The second day was one I will never forget. My mother had to work early that day. I was still asleep in bed when I heard Carolina answer the door.
I heard Carolina and an unknown man speaking. First they spoke in hushed tones. I strained to make out what they were saying. Then in increasing volume they bickered back and forth.
"You cannot just take a day off. Miguel expects you back at work today." The man said with irritation in his voice.
