Free Suncatchers by Jamie Langston Turner

the curved center. The large oval mirror could be tilted to any angle. Perry had moved the dresser away from the wall and aimed the mirror downward so he wouldn’t have to look at his face every time he glanced up. He had moved a kitchen chair in to replace the stool and had laid a towel across the dresser top with a piece of shelf board set on top. On this rested his computer. Not exactly the setup of a professional writer, he thought, but it would do. In fact, it might be good for his writing to have to adjust to a new room, even lower his standards of comfort.
    He stood in the doorway and looked at the mahogany dresser. He knew it had been foolish not to bring his sturdy oak desk from Rockford. His sister had scolded him over the phone for leaving almost everything behind with Dinah. “You’re stupid, Perry,” Beth had said. “You’re going to have to start all over and buy everything from scratch.” But the thought of that was better than the thought of leaving gaping holes behind him in a house where he had once been happy. It was really for Troy anyway, though he hadn’t told Beth that. Maybe one actor was offstage, but at least Troy would have the security of the same set and props.
    Perry glanced at the clock. Troy was probably just getting to school about now. Mondays had always been hard for him. After being home for two days, he never wanted to go back to school. Dinah had always blamed Perry for this. “What do you expect?” she had said once. “You make him think the weekend is some kind of uninterrupted party time where nobody ever has to work. Friday afternoon till Sunday night solid, you’re letting him drag you around wherever his heart desires. A movie? Oh sure, Troy Boy. Which one? Sledding? Okay, but first let’s buy you a new sled. That other old thing must be at least two months old. Pizza? Fine. Call all your buddies and invite them to come, too. On and on, every weekend. Then Monday morning, bang. Reality. School. Weeping and wailing. It wears me out, Perry, and it’s not healthy for Troy.”
    Perry wondered what Dinah and Troy had done this past weekend without him. She was probably exhausted. He thought about Troy’s small face and bright pleading eyes, the shock of blond hair that refused to lie down. He had no doubt that Troy could live without him, but he wondered again how he was going to face each day without Troy.
    He had heard the car start in Jewel’s driveway next door about an hour ago. He had been up for a good while already and by then was on his third cup of coffee. He had watched through the kitchen window as Jewel opened the back of the station wagon and Joe Leonard hoisted in his tuba. He heard Jewel say something, and they both laughed. Then while Jewel started up the station wagon, Joe Leonard had run back into the house and come out carrying his backpack. The car sputtered and died once, but Jewel started it again, gunned it backwards, and they were gone. He remembered Beth saying Jewel was a teacher, but he realized now that he didn’t have any idea what she taught.
    Looking out the side window now, Perry imagined Eldeen sitting by the gas heater inside the house smearing her feet with Vaseline, a box of Hefty Baggies nearby.
    He sat down at the computer. The screen was blank except for a heading he had typed in before the phone rang. GOSPEL LIGHTHOUSE . That would be his new name for the Church of the Open Door. For a project like this he had to use fictitious names in accordance with the standard ethics for sociological research, and he had discovered years ago that it helped to choose the names for everything and everyone right at the very beginning. It was an easy way to get something down on paper, and even if he went back later and changed the names—which he often did—he still had the feeling of having begun his research in a substantial way. He had already decided that Jewel would be Julie,