How Did These Words Come Together?

The challenge Vocal sponsored a few months ago was to write a microfiction piece of 300 words that started with “There was only one rule: don’t open the door.” This seemed like something right up my alley because I love writing all things spooky and scary. I also couldn’t pass up this opportunity for an exact word count. I had to chop out some phrases and replace them with single words and carefully consider how I structured each sentence in each paragraph. However, I decided to include a real person, my son, and aged him. I had to imagine his life in the future as a blind man navigating the world. Here’s the first part of the story:

*****There was only one rule: don’t open the door. Thomas knew the rule and followed it faithfully. He lived with his parents until they passed away, leaving their blind son the house and all its contents. He was familiar with every room, every piece of furniture, and every door and felt secure that there’d be no danger from a door.

Explanation: There are separate kinds of blind people. One consists of people blind since birth having to learn about the world from day one. Their senses are usually more acute because it’s a survival tactic. Another group has people who became blind later in life. This means they understand what things once looked like; they understand colors, patterns, faces, etc. Depending on when they started losing their vision, they have to re-learn things such as walking, balance, cooking, cleaning, self-care, prescriptions – a thousand things we sighted-people often take for granted.

We have a feeling our son will be with us until we pass. He is also on the spectrum, so making appropriate decisions consistently does not always come easily. One of the habits we have in place is to make sure all the furniture and items are in the same place. He gets used to the layout of the house and the rooms, picturing in his mind where everything should be. The second thing is to label things with bump dots (raised tactile dots) or Braille labels. This allows him to find things and identify the right ones. His prescriptions come with ScripTalk machine that reads the contents and directions of the bottle for him. Repeating the word “every” three times is similar to keeping everything consistent.

Tom’s not a child; he’s a young adult, but he makes mistakes. He is, however, very good at locking all the doors and making sure he doesn’t answer the door unless he knows who’s on the other side. Again, another thing we take for granted, but for blind people, it’s a different world. "No danger from a door" adds a sense of foreboding. One phrase pops out that hurts my soul: “they passed away, leaving their blind son.” Even though it’s embedded into a sentence, I feel that one in my soul because it’s inevitable.

Another challenge was including my real-life son. My husband disapproved, thinking I was sharing too much, but I defended my writing. I was weaving truth into a story, and my son liked the result of the story. He gave me some of the ideas and nixed others.

*****He took his service dog outside for a walk on the property. He’d never visited the woods behind the house because his parents frightened him with scary stories about it. With his dog by his side and a cane in his hand, he ventured deep into the unexplored forest. There was no one to convince him otherwise.

Explanation: At this time, Tom does not have a service dog. We have two dogs already, and one of them would not be friendly having another dog around. Tom would like to get a service dog one day and has learned about them at different conventions and trainings he’s had. Having a service dog requires a lot of responsibility which we’re working on.

We do have trees in the back yard, but not to the extent that this story implies. Tom is afraid of going places with uneven terrain and random obstacles in front of him. We’ve never held Tom back from going places where he wants to go; he knows his lack of clear vision makes the world scary enough just as it is. Having a dog and a cane is also tricky. If he has to make any evasive maneuver, both his hands are occupied. If he falls, he has to drop either the leash or the cane. Both become an extension of the person.

For a little experiment, blindfold yourself completely and then go from inside your house to check your mailbox and then take the garbage can to the curb. Perhaps go back through the house and walk in your back yard. Have another person with you to keep you from any mishaps. The world will feel completely different.

*****Thomas walked slowly, felt the trees, and inhaled deeply to get a sense of the woods. He recognized the smell of moss around him. He located an unfamiliar small building, and he felt around for windows or a door. He touched cobwebs and rough wood for walls. The dog was trying to pull him away.

Explanation: He walks slowly because he’s never been that far in the yard before. For the sake of this story, he can still feel the trees on either side of him. The dog and/or the cane would detect things in front of him. As I explained earlier, the remaining senses go on high alert. Moss is damp and smells green (according to Thomas). He enjoyed scouting as a kid and loved being outdoors when he could see.

The building I added because a spooky story needs an abandoned building in the woods, one his parents wouldn’t have told him about. Or perhaps they didn’t know it was there. That’s left up to the reader to decide.

He’s feeling around the building, trying to get a tactile visual of the place. If it’s building-shaped, it must have an entry point. Why have a building with no doors? Since it’s an abandoned building in the woods, there should be cobwebs, possibly bug remains, splinters, possibly holes or broken wood. I had to create as many touch descriptions for this story to gel.

*****“Don’t worry, Scout,” Thomas said, “don’t be a scaredy cat.”

Explanation: The dog’s name is Scout because, well, Tom was a scout. Tom was an Eagle Scout to be precise, and dogs ‘scout’ around for their owners. Most service dogs, however, come pre-named because of their training. Of course, I had to include as many puns as possible. This is part of Tom’s spectrum-his first understanding that words had double meanings turned him into the pun-king. He cannot resist making a pun or joke from any source of conversation. Calling his dog a scaredy cat is within his realm of truth.

*****There were no windows, but he did find a single door. He felt around for the doorknob but couldn’t locate one. As he reached around sides of the door frame, he touched a hooked latch higher up one side, the only lock. Scout whined.

Explanation: I created a building with a door but no windows. Mysterious in structure, as is the plot. Why wouldn’t the door have a knob or handle like a regular door? I needed more touches of spooky to keep my reader hooked, like the one latch on the door. What’s a lock on the outside for? What’s inside? And finally, why did the dog whine? They whine or ‘alert’ when there’s danger around or that the surroundings are unsafe. Tom, being the curious one, would naturally want to know what’s on the inside. The reader will have to wait.