<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Goddammit Well<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u201cHow long did it take yuh, Ted?\u201d his wife asked. Her name was Martha. She was hard-toothed as pure donkey.<\/p>\n \u201cLong \u2018nuf\u201d he answered in a wheeze of breath. \u201cChanged her tire was all, Martie. Told her to git to Benny\u2019s first thing in the mornin\u2019 so he kin fix the flat \u2013 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou didn\u2019t hit on her for \u2013 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, goddammit<\/em>! All I did was help<\/em> someone in need! That\u2019s all!\u201d<\/p>\n His inflection had risen with each syllable, their son August noticed. He had turned fourteen earlier that summer, 2011. He was \u201ca late gift,\u201d said his mother, now forty-six. His father was fifty. His parents had married in the spring of 1996. August\u2019s birth came on the first day of August the following year.<\/p>\n One of their arguments, not as frequent as might seem, revealed that neither Ted nor Martha had ever contemplated seriously being a parent until their first Thanksgiving together when she first announced her pregnancy, not even warning her husband.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s the dad\u201d she gestured at Ted, who was suddenly wide-eyed. The others present \u2013 ten, including her parents and his mother, a few siblings, no kids \u2013 were surprised but polite. No one said, \u201cOh, I was wondering.\u201d<\/p>\n August had heard this in at least four different versions and had always thought the implied humor was incomplete.<\/p>\n \u201cYou can goddammit<\/em> all you like,\u201d Martha fired back. \u201cSo you did a good deed! May come in handy \u2013 if . . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf I want a little nookie on the side? Is that<\/em> what you\u2019re meaning?\u201d<\/p>\n Martha smirked, and then displayed her radiant dental work. Ted merely frowned, his pout on full-blast.<\/p>\n \u201cYou said it, sweetie boy!\u201d she chirped back. \u201cI<\/em> didn\u2019t.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n Ted frowned more. August sighed deep, bored with the sniping.<\/p>\n \u201cState fair starts next Thursday,\u201d he ventured. \u201cI was thinking \u2013 we could all<\/em> go together \u2013 maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n His father, never one to take exception to August\u2019s peace-making, merely nodded, saying nothing at first.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s<\/em> a good idea, August!\u201d his mother said.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had fun last year, I remember,\u201d his father conceded with a dry grin, selecting a piece of celery off the platter Martha had just set down. He bit off a piece.<\/p>\n August looked at his father chewing celery. The lines in his father\u2019s upper cheeks and just below his eyes had become more pronounced than in the picture now in his bedroom taken nine years earlier. August was five then. He remembered the occasion. He also knew his parents were older than all his friends\u2019 parents. By several years, he considered, so that much closer to the end.<\/p>\n His father stood up and raised his hands to his face for three seconds.<\/p>\n \u201cGoddammit,\u201d he muttered, as if no one else were present. Martha looked at him blankly as she moved to the opposite edge of the table.<\/p>\n \u201cYou okay, Ted?\u201d she asked calmly. \u201cDid you \u2013 take your pills this morning?\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded quickly, his hands now at his sides. He took a deep breath. Then he sat back down and displayed a rueful grin, which vanished quickly.<\/p>\n \u201cIs he in pain?\u201d she wondered. \u201cWhat\u2019s happening?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI say that word a lot,\u201d Ted admitted reflectively, looking at his wife, then at August.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve always had a deep well of \u2018goddammits\u2019 \u2013 husband, dear,\u201d Martha piped mockingly. \u201cI began to notice it after our honeymoon. Odd how these things evolve!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d their son agreed. \u201cWhy is that?\u201d<\/p>\n Now they all had faint amusement.<\/p>\n \u201cUs, for example,\u201d August said. \u201cDo we \u2013 evolve?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou bet,\u201d Ted answered. \u201cAll the time, boy!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d his mother agreed, turning back to the kitchen. \u201cSoup\u2019s about ready! August, please fetch the saltines. And plates for under the bowls.\u201d<\/p>\n The boy stood up and followed her into the kitchen. Ted did not move as he watched them. He was suddenly very happy.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n James Naiden\u2019s<\/strong> third novel, The Chafings of Mortals, <\/em>was published in 2011. He lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota and is a regular reviewer for IS&T.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Goddammit Well \u201cHow long did it take yuh, Ted?\u201d his wife asked. Her name was Martha. She was hard-toothed as pure donkey. \u201cLong \u2018nuf\u201d he answered in a wheeze of breath. \u201cChanged her tire was all, Martie. Told her to git to Benny\u2019s first thing in the mornin\u2019 so he kin […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7185","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7185","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7185"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7185\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7187,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7185\/revisions\/7187"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7185"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7185"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7185"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}