A First Collection of Short Stories

By Ilett O'Connor

In this collection of short stories, I discuss many aspects of my years growing up. Sometimes in life we hear of the unusual lives of people's childhood and adolescence and we ask ourselves how did people survive? What you do not see is the treasure trove of experiences that shapes people's lives. But it gives them a story to tell. Even though I grew up with a lot less than others, I do not think I was ever lacking. There was much love around me and I am happy for the experiences. It certainly shaped who I am. In this book I honor my family and the sacrifices they made for me to accomplish my goals. In addition some of the stories enclosed in this book have been with me for a long time as I waited for the opportunity to share them with you. Learn about the people you come in contact with everyday. There are many textures and levels that make them who they are. They have stories to tell too. Enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503551404

Ilett O'Connor

Ilett O'Connor has been a social studies teacher in the New York City public school system for over twenty years. She earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree from Brooklyn College in Sociology, a Master's Degree in Education from Adelphi University and a Doctoral Degree in Literacy from Hofstra University. Ms. O’Connor is listed in America's Who's Who in American Teachers and is the author of many Children’s books including, Kodiak Bear's Day of Adventure, Natie and the Unconquerable Sheila, How Bear Lost His Tail and The Tale of the Triangle, The Square and The Circle. She is also the author of three novels: The Bunco Ladies, Bent But Not Broken and A First Collection of Short Stories. Seesaw is her fourth novel.

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Copyright © 2015 by Ilett O’Connor.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5035-5141-1

                eBook          978-1-5035-5140-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/18/2015

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CONTENTS

Micro Tyros

Night Watch

Louise Louise Louise

Emma & Louise

She’s Afraid of What??!!

My Mother

Miss Winnie’s Vegetable Garden

My Dad

Childhood

Sherwood Content

Boarding School

What’s Wrong with Generation Z?

Micro Tyros

T here were many reasons why they bought the new house. It was an unusual structure to say the least. Actually the builder had recently added an extension to the old structure. So old and new existed side by side yet separated by time and the events that might have occurred in the house a long time ago. Additionally the house had sat empty for quite some time. Time enough for those who had lived and died there to settle in, to make it their own and not allow intruders to feel comfortable in a space that had once belonged to them. In fact the house had secrets that it was not about to give up. Only the new owners would eventually know its history after having spent time in its rooms and experienced its idiosyncrasies. One main reason for purchasing the new property was simply because the new occupants came from communities that had changed immensely. Crime was up, the town’s population had increased threefold, the din of noise and traffic had more than doubled and unhealthy neighbors helped made up their minds that it was time for some peace and quiet. Lastly they had already sold their previous houses and had to vacate them because their new buyers were eager to take possession of their new property. But unbeknownst to the new occupants the new house would have a mind of its own. They would soon come to know their house in a subtle calculating way. They would come to conclude that they were not alone.

Moving day was traumatic to say the least. The mother and daughter duo converged from two different counties to set down roots in their new home. Moving out of their old homes was the usual long drawn out process that departing homeowners usually face: tiredness, a loss of energy and listening to the usual feedback from the movers – Boy, you sure have a lot of stuff. Homeowners during a move wonder as the hours pass, how did they generate so much stuff. It was even harder when two families from two different houses with twenty years of accoutrements decide to set up residence in the same house; to live together, even though they had lived on their own for all those years in their previous houses. The adjustment from single living to doubling up would take time and space. They would be changed by this experience of having to negotiate, of learning how to compromise, to sometimes keep their mouths shut or become vocal depending on the subject matter. As the accumulated stuff from the moving van piled up to the basement ceiling of their new abode, mother and daughter took bets on when they would eventually see their basement floor as the days passed and the unpacking began.

As they settled into their new accommodations they began to realize that all was not what it seemed in their new home. On further inspection the new homeowners became visibly upset when each would constantly discover a major flaw in the construction of the new structure. The workmanship in the new extension to the property on inspection seemed like a poor renovation project: shoddy to say the least. It would be honest to say that the seller/renovator was a poor quality worker. The resulting product was a handy-man special with a façade, with no inkling as to what was lurking underneath the painted walls, inside the electrical outlets, inside areas where spaces abounded that would not have been open to the naked eyes. Each of the occupants would remark to the other sometime in the course of their day, Did you see the frame around the bathroom mirror or did you know the shower is leaking? And so it went, on and on. Everyday was a lesson in discovery and much was discovered. The new homeowners lost their appetite for living in their new house and vowed to find a new replacement.

One morning around 5 a.m. daughter Carol was carrying out her usual prayer routine. On hands and knees leaning on her bed she was thanking God for answered prayers, for giving her a new day and asking for strength to deal with the new generation she was salaried to teach in public school, when she felt the tap on her behind. At first it didn’t register. Or maybe it just hadn’t happened. It had been a cold morning during the winter months and she had pulled her quilt over her head to keep warm. In trying to rationalize what might