Eyes Like El Dorado : Flash Fiction Revision

*This is the revision for "Avery's First Memory." It's a completely new story, and I don't like it. I like writing philosophy and metaphysics into my stories, but they're more conceptual when I do, and not usually the kind of stories that people want to read. And so I intentionally make them simple and realistic, so people will like them. I'm not very good at making real ideas real writing, I guess. I need to work on that. But I hate when I lose passion for a story. I didn't for this one, but for 'Love Me Tender' I have lost all motivation. I have to finish it, and it has to be good, but I'm just not happy with it at all and I wish I'd never written it.

Anyway, here is my final draft my flash fiction piece.

Eyes Like El Dorado

“Piece o’ shit valley,” Amos Adams grumbled, surveying the scene before him. Beyond the golden foothills lay the putrid swamp of smog, a mixture of dust and manure from farmers’ plows and methane from bloated, festering cow carcasses. He was walking into a bear trap set by the Big Guy himself—that omnipotent hotshot, that universal fucking faggot. He was crawling into an old, dirty vagina and he’d be damned to hell if he pulled out with syphilis.

“God, Shirley better not be there,” Amos cursed. If it weren’t for Corinne and the new baby, he wouldn’t have to chance the encounter with his ex-wife.

Glancing in his rearview mirror for approaching traffic, Amos’s eyes lingered on the dense forest in the distance. He hated leaving the cool, protective embrace of the El Dorado. Her breath on his neck during their daily, passionate affairs left him smelling of pine and moss; her boysenberry kisses always overpowered the moonshine on his breath. He carried her wherever he went—her intoxicating pine aroma
perfumed his wiry beard and clung to the fibers of his long johns.

Amos took one last glimpse as the forest disappeared over the ridge. Five
minutes and he already pined for his earth mistress. He was leaving her behind—and for what? So Shirley could glower at him?; so she could bitch and moan about how he wasn’t helping Corinne and Dan pay off their mortgage, about how his beard was too long and his flannel needed patching and bla bla bla bla bla. They’d divorced for a reason and he didn’t need the sow telling him how to live his life again. He’d never even hit her, and he’d raised Corinne up to be a right proper lady, unlike her hell-cat mother.

Corinne—now there was the golden reason that brought him down from the mountain. His baby girl Corinne was married and settled down, and now she was rocking a babe on her knee. Her son Avery had the same soft copper eyes as Corinne, eyes that reminded Amos of sequoias and red clay. It was when Avery had first opened his eyes and stared up at Amos that Amos knew he’d be doing a lot more driving than he intended. No distance could separate the woodsman from his grandson.

Avery would need a man in his life. There was his father, Dan, of course, and Amos loved Dan like his own son—Dan never questioned Amos’s motives and he was always an eager hop-skip-and-a-jump from offering a helping hand—but Dan was a junior high mathematics teacher. What Avery needed was a real man, a working man, a man that could teach him how to fish and hike and hunt. Often, Amos dreamed of their first hunting trip together, pap and grandson, two men traipsing through the woods. They’d start small—ducks, maybe, or turkey—and then move on to bigger game—deer and elk and bear. Hell, it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t bag one good kill, so long as they had the pleasure of one another’s company.

And, speaking of hunting, he still had to figure out what provisions he needed for his winter trip. It was almost dear season and Amos planned on nailing a couple of young bucks to last him through the winter. He knew he needed a couple cases of buckshot, so he’d just run by the Bait and Tackle shop on his way back and stop up. There was something else—lantern propane or a couple new pairs of thermal underwear—but he couldn’t quite put his thumb on it and he didn’t want to buy it if he didn’t need it. Amos sighed. He’d have to make two trips.

Spotting a Chevron sign ahead, Amos flicked his blinker on and eased into the right lane and off the freeway. Amos had promised Corinne he’d call when he was close, and the Chevron had a pay-phone. Rummaging through his pockets for spare change, he extracted a quarter, two
dimes and a nickel. The coins clinked into the holding compartment like hail on a tin roof. After
dialing Corinne’s telephone number, Amos hunched his shoulders and drew his head close to his
body, creating a barrier between himself and any prying ears around him. He liked his phone calls to be private. After two rings, Corinne picked up.

“Hello?”

“Your mother’s not gonna be there, is she?”

“Dan wants to know if you can pick up some ice from the grocer’s.”

“Ten pounder?”

“Why are you always so hostile when Momma’s here?”

“I just like having my space, ‘sall. Forty years she’s nagged me and we ain’t been married for thirty! That woman gives me a bellyache.”

Amos heard Corinne sigh on the other end of the receiver. “Avery’s waiting for you, Daddy.”

Amos shifted his shoulders. “I’ll be there in half an hour, with the ice.”

“And—Daddy—don’t worry. Momma’s not going to be here. We’ll see you soon.”

Amos hung up the heavy black receiver and heard his coins clang into the payphone’s starving belly. With one hand, he ran his fingers through his shaggy gray curls. Amos sighed. With the other hand, he reached into his pants pocket and extracted his hand carved wooden pipe. It was already packed with tobacco. He struck a match, lit the pipe weed, and took a few puffs.

Amos thought it best to hurry along if he were going to make his thirty minute deadline. He snuffed the burning tobacco and slipped the pipe back into his pocket as he ambled to his truck. He still had to pick up the ice. Ten pounds. Besides, Avery was waiting for him.

“As he pulled out of the Chevron parking lot, Amos banged his first against the roof of truck, exclaiming, “Thank God! Shirley is not going to be there!”