Write about Being Really Angry

Assignment from Writing the Hawaiʻi Memoir by Darien Gee.

Stomping up the backstairs to our sprawling lanai, I plump into a chair at the breakfast table. I sit, staring ahead at nothing. I do not pull my chair up close– an act of defiance.

B-n-b guests (two couples) are chattering with light-hearted laughter– which suddenly lulls. Head-turns morph from casual to stiff. Something amiss– they sense it.

A guest passes the bowl of freshly-cut, island fruits. “Ric, would you like some fruit?”

“I’m not eating. I’m here because I was ordered to join breakfast.” Conversation halts. The pleasant, morning breeze wafting across the lanai mutates. The air might burn, if someone touches it. The next sound could rupture eardrums.

I feel more inner tension with each passing second. I can’t believe I have just uttered such words of inhospitality to a guest. I am powerless to alter my course. I feel the throbbing of hot-red blood as it burns upward through my temples. 

Johnny is searing me with his eyes. I see him in my periphery– assaulting me with an anger to match my own.

I smell the delicious aroma of bacon blending with omelet blending with Kona coffee. It’s making me nauseous. I’m afraid I might vomit.

The guests eat. They begin hushed conversation. Nothing is relaxed or casual now. I sit and stare ahead into the blankness as I feel myself beginning to spin and descend into the black hole I have created.

So… dear reader. How did I do?– with the anger assignment?

I know, I know. You want to know what the h*** the argument was that provoked such angry response. I hate to disappoint you (Truth: No, I don’t.) but the answer will come with full drama in my second book. (That’s + one from the one we’re waiting for today!) I get it. Not fair. I’m just trying to build an audience here…

(“Watch this space.”)

Published by Ric d. Stark

New to a post-retirement commitment to literary non-fiction, Ric d. Stark will focus memories on gay life, Hawaiʻi life and Hawaiian quilting.

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