Closet Country

Hey ya’ll 😉 Below is a short story I wrote for a writing.com contest five or six years ago and then promptly forgot until this morning. Reading it again made me giggle and I hope that it makes you crack a smile too. But First:

I realize that I’ve been basically MIA for the last part of this week while we here in Singing School land ready ourselves for the onslaught of ‘campers’ that will show up tomorrow night. In fact, I’m exhausted from all the work I’ve done and I’m not even doing 1/3 of the work my parents are doing (I am keeping up with my toddler too though…that’s exhausting all by it’s lonely!)

Here’s a quick glimpse at what I would have written about last week:
Thursday – I wrote about my school and new job, I meant to write about the interesting study of children’s literacy as linked to parental shopping styles (kids who get monosyllabic and quick ‘no’s as opposed to kids to get explanations etc.)

Friday – Tyree Tomes Updates..well, we’re writing and working on Singing School Stuff. Today is your last day to get a free download of my Short Story Sundays book, I would love to see some more people grab these little suckers!

 

And Now…Closet Country:

“Yo Ella,”

Ella cringed as she heard her roommate’s cry for her to ‘wait up’. She had thought that Barb was going to the battle of the bands with her boyfriend and now worried that Barb’s intrusion on their dorm room would make her late for her own band appointment.

“UGH! Spike is picking me up in 5 minutes and I need to shower and change!” Barb panted as she jogged beside Ella, “I can’t believe class ran over.”

“You better hurry! Let’s run,” Ella pasted a grin on her face and ran next to her breathless friend. Her long black hair flew behind her, the red chunks forming snapshots for pedestrians across campus. They reached the dorm seconds before Spike, who shoved Barbara, sweaty t-shirt and all, into his sad looking truck, muffling her protests with a cookie.

“See ya!”

Ella waved and this time her smile was genuine as she moved into the building and swung through the door to her room. Quickly shutting and locking the door, closing the blinds, and checking that both webcams were off, Ella opened the steamer trunk at the end of her bed and removed the false bottom to stare down at her greatest joy and deepest shame…her cowboy boots.

Ella, dark haired heavy metal loving, tattooed and pierced Ella, was a closest country music writer and performer. She carefully concealed it all in the false bottom of her trunk; only incorporating it into her life a few times a month. Slowly, checking once again to make sure that the blinds were closed and the door locked, Ella began to remove her lip and eyebrow rings. She changed into the tight faded jeans, the collared button up shirt, and the denim jacket. Ella then tugged on her boots, covering them with galoshes that had skulls painted in bright red along the sides, and yanked on a black trench coat. With her hair pulled into a sleek pony tail and her guitar and music snugly secured in its highly decorated case pirate ship case, Ella raced to her car.

HONKY TONK!! Flashed in bold neon letters, temporarily blinding Ella as she pulled into the country bar 2 hours from home. She couldn’t play anywhere near campus and risk being exposed. Ella hustled to stage and told them she had arrived. Within minutes the house band had her music and was waiting for her cue. The music twanged into being as she raised her head and sang;

“I’m not a country girl, I’m a big city woman. I don’t want to whirl, in your truck or on your tractor. I want to rock and roll in my heavy metal boots. So go away Bubba, I don’t give a hoot!”

The crowd was silent, even the chirping crickets rested their tired legs a moment to process Ella’s words. She had looked like one of them, she had sounded like one of them, but there was obviously a YANKEE in their midst. For her part, Ella didn’t know what she had done wrong, but she realized something was amiss. She quickly packed her things, ran out the door, and hustled off in her car. A few days later a newscaster on her favorite hard rock station rattled off this news story as she and Barb were getting ready for class: “A few nights ago some little lady named Ella Fitz took a the country bar Honky Tonk by storm with a little diddy she wrote and performed herself. My cousin, Hillbilly Bubba, was there and, bless his soul, recorded it for us. I think you guys will like it.” With that Ella’s voice floated over the airwaves as Barbara looked over at her friend, “You’re a closet cowgirl?????”

 

 

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