MARA's Dillema | A short story. | Prompt-#60

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The blue skies radiated warmth echoing Maria's sentiments at that moment. She had just gotten out of the building and was soaking up the atmosphere outside after an intense two-hour interview to determine her fate as a journalist. And, while the panel was in a jolly mood, it doesn't mean to say that the interview was a formality - far from it. There were other notable candidates vying for the position of senior fellow at the San Pablo Institute of Literature and Journalism.

The other interviewees were effing luminaries; my granny was probably reading their stories in the broadsheets when she was still alive. I doubt that I will be chosen ahead of them. Sigh. Sorry, Karina. This isn't my year. Am I overthinking this? Better go home, Maria. It has been Maria's dream to get into the institute ever since she learned about it. Her mentor was the first woman and youngest ever senior fellow at the institute, Karina Abad Del Rosario, now the publisher/editor-in-chief at the publication company where she works.

I'm screwed.

"How was your interview?" Mrs. Santos eagerly asked.

"I'm hungry, Mama. Do we have food?" Maria's listless voice spoke volumes.

"Papa brought home some pizza. I will heat it up for you." Mrs. Santos was glad to see a smile form at tip of Maria's lips.

"I'm glad that it's a thin crust margherita, Mama. I might finish off the whole thing. Where is Papa?"

"Oh, he's at the garage working on the car. We already had snacks so don't worry about him."

The afternoon passed slowly and Maria just hung out at her room and reflected on her life; something she hadn't done so in a while now.

I miss Granny.

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The next morning began with the sound of birds chirping outside. A light breeze softly kissing the fluttering leaves, causing the morning dew to fall to the ground. The hazy rays of the sun looked like it was a smoky spotlight: illuminating and enlightening. And as the smell of coffee filled the air in the Santos residence, the phone rang unexpectedly.

Who could be calling this early? Maria buried her head under a pillow, then slowly reached for her phone.

"Hello. Yes. Uh-huh. I see. Thanks! Bye." Maria hung up and let out a loud, joyful scream. A flurry of footsteps trampling the stairs was followed by a loud banging on her door.

"Maria, what happened?"

"Open the door!"

Her parents scrambled up to see what's happening with their only daughter, leaving the scrambled eggs to burn. It was the first time they heard Maria scream this hard and at such an early time of the day. It was both confusing and alarming to both of them. Maria opened the door slowly and stood at the doorway in silence.

"I got in!"

"What?!"

"I got in, Papa. I got into the final round!"

"Wow. That's great news!" Maria's father let out a sigh; nothing bad happened.

"That's wonderful news!" Mrs. Santos was even more relieved. The air began to smell of burning food, signaling for her to hurry back down to the kitchen.

I wish you were here, Granny.

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Excitement and anticipation welled up inside as Maria faced the final judgement from a group of distinguished panelist. A few moments of tense silence passed before the first question was even asked; Maria wanted to get their autographs and kick their butts at the same time.

In her final remarks, Maria spoke about her love for the written word when she was just a little girl. She also liked observing people and places, and documenting life, hers as well as others.

"I have always kept a diary since I was a little girl. I was captivated by thoughts and ideas eloquently written on paper, and dreams becoming a reality on the pages of a notebook. As I grew up, it became evident that chronicling the events and realities of public interest would be my vocation - it's my diary exposed for all the world to read. Thank you very much for this honor and opportunity. And, even though I am the youngest candidate in this group, I have high hopes of being able to share my passion to the younger generation, to inspire them to take up journalism, and to encourage them to open up and share their own diary to change the world for the better."

The room fell quiet, surreal, even downright out of this world. Maria could see every small detail in slow motion, of panelist squirming in their seats, twinge reactions to the answers she gave, but also the twinkle in their eyes and approving facial expressions. It was a tough afternoon. She went home right after the panel interview like the first one and found another box of thin crust margherita pizza; fathers are a blessing in this world.

A few weeks had passed and life goes on. With the interview behind her, Maria was more focused on her day job more than ever. It also helped that she had not gotten a call from her side project moonlighting as a bad ass assassin struggling with her principles and spiritual values. Her story about a strike managed to make it to the front page, while another story about the price manipulation done by pharmaceutical companies went viral online. Everything is going as well as it should be. And, the only thing that could have made this better was a call from Rafael, her martial arts teacher.

One morning, as the birds sang their cheerful chorus under the spotlight of the morning sun, the phone rang as loudly as ever before. It was the chairman of the selection committee. Suddenly, a loud, piercing cry echoed in the house prompting the distressed parents to run up the stairs and start banging on the door lest they get a heart attack at the same time.

"Maria, what happened?"

"Open the door!"

And as if the replay button was played, Maria opened the door slowly and stood in silence, this time tears streaming down her face.

"I did it. I got into the San Pablo Institute."

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With two weeks to prepare, Maria had to submit all the documentary requirements and move to the town of San Pablo, a university town 200 kilometers away from their home. She can go and visit her parents on weekends, but it wasn't practical to come home during the weekdays.

Maria asked her mother to go with her and visit her granny's grave before she left. They were extremely close and Maria wanted to tell her about the good news.

"Let's go, Mama. The weather is perfect." Maria had not visited her granny in forever so she was anxious to get there.

"Did you say bye to your papa?"

"Bye-bye, Papa! I will warm up the car now, Mama." Maria's fast pace was exhausting to Mrs. Santos, but she's happy to be spending the day with her daughter.

They arrived at the memorial park at nine o'clock a.m. Maria parked the car near the entrance so they could walk and have one of their mother-daughter talks that she loved so much.

There were a few people visiting their departed loved-ones that day. From a distance, Maria scanned the area for any sign of danger - there were none as far as she could tell. Strangely enough, there was a figure standing near her granny's grave and the first time she will meet anyone of the "neighbors".

As they drew closer, the silhouette became clearer.

"Rafael? What are you doing at my granny's grave?" Mara's blind teacher was standing in front of her grandmother's grave.

"Hello, Maria, Mrs. Santos. Maria Elena was a dear friend."

"How did you know my granny? Where did you meet? Can you tell me about her?" There was an endless number of things that Mara wanted to know.

"I know that you have questions form me, and I will answer all of them, at the right time. For now, you must know that training starts in two weeks time. You will be staying at the dojo with the rest of the students."

"I'm so sorry for the short notice, but this is the best I could do."

Mara was dumbfounded. This was the curve ball she did not want nor expected to encounter at this point in her life. She could not do anything but accept the circumstance that fate had given her. She is confused, for sure, but she also knows that this is an opportunity to examine her deeply held values and and desires; and at the end of it all, to know herself and how to best live her life moving forward.

_{Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay}

A few days had passed and Mara is still losing sleep over this monumental decision. There were dark clouds above the memorial park and nobody was around this time. The sombre mood helped Mara reflect.

This is the hardest decision I've ever had to think over in my life. How can I choose where to go? I have dreamed of studying under a true martial artist since I was a little girl, but getting into the institute is also a dream come true for me. Oh, Granny, please help me decide. Karina will be furious if I don't accept the institute's offer.

And like a light bulb turning on, Mara had made a resolution. Filled with conviction and clarity of thought. She thanked her granny and began to walk slowly towards the exit to announce her decision to the world.

THE END

Your story could have been written in response to several skill challenges: memorable character, scene description, 'show don't tell' (this week's challenge). What this indicates is that you have a well-crafted story. The story also handles the current prompt/challenge skillfully. The voice of the main character comes through: she is young, apprehensive and hopeful, eager and self-doubting. Your character is motivated not only by personal ambition, but by family. She carries her family and its values wherever she goes.

The arc is good here, and it's fine that we don't know her decision. However, in the spirit of a true critique there is a slight issue with your construction. As you introduce her new conflict (which path to take), you describe that as a 'curve ball' for the protagonist. Which is fine for a writer to do to a protagonist. However, you have not prepared the way for the reader to this new conflict. It comes out of nowhere. It would be better (structurally) for you to lay the groundwork for such a sharp turn. There ought to be some kind of a hint, suggestion that this new conflict exists in her life. (Just a suggestion, an observation that would not be made to the writer of a less sophisticated story)

It is apparent that you took great care in writing. As readers (and curators) we appreciate that care. You do a great job. Thank you for sharing this story with us and introducing us to an interesting character. Thank you for supporting your fellow writers with your comments.