Don’t Worry ’bout A Thing

Bob Marley’s jamaican accent floated across the room as my cell phone rang. Don’t worry… ‘bout a thing… ‘cause every little thing… gonna be alright…

I looked down and saw my mother’s number. Such a pretty song, I told myself. I’ll just listen to it a minute longer. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was her calling. Right. I sighed and readied myself for the upcoming conversation.

“Hey, mom” I answered quickly, trying to make myself sound as rushed as possible. “I’m late for class. On my way out the door as we speak.” I picked up my keys and rattled them as loud as I could, hoping she’d take the hint.

Silence. That response was unexpected and I stopped rushing about.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, completely serious now.
.
“It’s your father. A spell has been cast on him and he’s frozen solid.” It was such an odd statement to hear over the phone that it took a second to register. I sucked in a deep breath then let it out in a woosh, knowing my day was not going to go the way I had originally planned.

“Don’t worry mom, I’ll take care of it.” I pushed the end button before she had a chance to say anything else, looked down at the keys still in my hand, and walked out the door.

****

Loud music greeted me as I walked through the front door and I knew immediately that at least one of the twins was home.

“HELLO?” I called out as I searched the bottom floor. “Mom? … Connor? … Cassie? …” No sign of anyone. Figuring they must all be upstairs, I climbed the wooden steps to the second floor. Pictures of the five of us lined the wall, reminding me of how close we all were. Sometimes I still longed for the creature comforts of living at home. Being with them every day instead of the bits and pieces of time I had to steal between classes and staying at the dorm.

I caught mom at the top of the stairs, basket of laundry in tow. A frown furrowed her brow, replaced by a look of total relief when she noticed me.

“Tori, thank God you’re here,” she sighed, pointing in the direction of her bedroom with her chin. “Your father’s in there.”

I followed her into the spacious master bedroom and immediately saw my father, frozen mid-stride, presumably on his way to the bathroom.

“Have you talked with the twins?” I asked. “Tried to figure out which one did it?”

“And how exactly was that conversation supposed to go?” she asked as she set the basket on the bed. “By chance have either of you frozen your father with a new magical ability you both didn’t know you had but should have received when you turned 16 last week?” She began to yank the laundry out, piece by piece as she folded it and flopped it on the bed, undoing her already sloppy work.

“Mom,” I said slowly. “Calm down.” I stopped her from demolishing the remaining clothes by grabbing her hands and holding them in my own. “We all knew this day was coming. We just didn’t know when. They’ll be okay, just like I was when I found out about our family.”

 

I wrote this for the March 26th writing prompt at Writers Digest.com. Since the prompts are 500 words or less, I’m going to attempt to keep the story flowing from weekly prompt to weekly prompt…. BUT depending on the prompts and my lack of imagination, I may not be able to incorporate them. So I’ll just play it by ear.

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