Posted by: rcwriter | February 6, 2009

Fiction Friday–Kith and Kin


Here’s a fresh new story from me. I know it needs a bit of polish, but this is the first installment of  Kith and Kin. Every Friday in February, you’ll get another part of the story.

Don’t forget to visit the other Fiction Friday posts. You’ll find the link at the bottom.

Sparkling pool of Mediterranean green dance about olive colored hills and are framed by ashen crags. For me this is the face of Greece and it belongs to my best friend and beloved Great-Aunt Kith. I realize very few 30-somethings would claim to have a 75 year old woman as a best friend, but you don’t know Kith.

Katherine Ione Thermopolis is my grandfather’s youngest sister and the first Thermopolis born in the US. After her fiancé died in the early days of Vietnam, she attended nursing school and spent two tours there. Although she never married she has never lacked for beaus, and each one as unconventional as she.

“You aren’t going to believe what Aunt Kith is up to now.”

That’s usually how every phone call with my mother starts. “Probably will, but go ahead.” I settle in for one of my mother’s rants.

“Gloria was just downtown, and you know what she saw?”

I don’t answer because my mother never gives me time.

“She saw Kith on the back of a loud motorcycle with some sort of long-haired hippie looking man that’s covered in tattoos. Neither one was wearing a helmet.”

“It’s a Harley, and Tarzan isn’t a hippie.”

“Tarzan???” My mother’s gasp stirred a whirlwind of air that I’m sure was felt a mile away.

“Calm down before you burst a blood vessel. His real name is Earl and he’s a really great guy. He and Kith are a great match.”

“Posh. He’s just taking advantage of her. Where did she meet such a person?”

I silently giggled at my mother’s use of “Posh” (like I always do). I wanted to tell her the truth that Kith and Tarzan met at the prison where Kith leads a ministry team, but Mom might take that the wrong way. Plus, that prison ministry would start another rant I didn’t want to hear. “At some church event.”

Again she gasped. “Our church?”

I covered the mouthpiece until I stifled my laughter.

“Angela, I’m glad you’re finding some humor in all of this, but it’s serious. Aunt Kith could hurt herself riding on that motorcycle without a helmet. And that man could be some kind of mass murderer.”

“MOM, he’s not a mass murderer. He’s just a man who didn’t come to know Christ until later in life. He’s proud of those tats. He calls them war wounds.” Telling her he found Christ in prison while serving 10 years for attempted murder wasn’t going to help.

“Tats? I guess you’d know all about that.”

I didn’t feel this an opportune time to inform her the name ‘John’ was branded on my hip. Stupid college dare. “Kith is a big girl. She can take care of herself. You and Aunt Gloria need to stop worrying.”

The silence on the line told me I wasn’t going to win this battle. “I really need to go. I’ve got work to do.”

In an instant my mother’s voice turned to melted butter. “Lunch on Sunday? You’re brother will be here.”

“Sure, Mom.” That velvet tongue made me suspicious.

“Tell Aunt Kith she and Earl are invited too. We’d love to meet him.”

And there it was. Her ulterior motive: I was to convince Kith to introduce Tarzan to that pack of ravenous wolves known as family. “I’ll relay the message, but I’m not promising anything.

As soon as I knew the line was clear. I hit the speed dial for Kith’s cell phone.

“Hi, Sunshine. What’s up?”

She only called me ‘Sunshine’ when she was alone. “Are you home? I could call you there.”

“No, I’m at Tarzan’s place. We’re getting ready for a ministry team meeting.”

I snickered, “Ah, a single woman at a man’s home without a chaperone. That’s flirting with danger.”

Her own snicker came over the line. “It’s no more dangerous than waving at Gloria from the back of Tarzan’s bike.”

“So you know why I’m calling.”

“I wondered how long it would take. This seems to be a new record.”

“Well, Mom’s invited you and Earl for Sunday lunch.”

Kith snorted. “She couldn’t call him Tarzan could she?”

“Nope, but she could call him a ‘long-haired hippie looking man that’s covered in tattoos’.”

“Sunshine, you know how I don’t like gossip, and you know I don’t care what they call him.”

The heat of a blush rose to my cheeks. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. But would you please call her later and tell her you’ll be there?”

“Of course.” Her voice cooed. “The Greek in me would never turn down a family dinner invitation.”

For more wonderful fiction, visit A Candid Thought you’ll find links to other great stories there.

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Responses

  1. LoL! I loooooove Kith!

  2. How charming! I love this. Kith is a wonderful character (I want to meet her…or maybe be her! :-)) I look forward to future installments!

  3. Loved the characters and dialogue!

  4. We all need an Aunt Kith! Great characters!!!

  5. What great characters – and characterization! I am eagerly awaiting further installments!

  6. Oh I like this! I can’t wait for the next installment. I love the character of Kith the best. Really great-especially the lesson inside of what people are in the inside. Nice job.

  7. I’ve known some guys like Tarzan – members of a group called “Riders of the Cross.” I’d rather see my mother riding with some of them than with some of the “respectable” looking people I’ve known. I’m looking forward to the next installment!


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