beat of the drum ** yeager

Yeager narrowed his eyes at the young girl wielding an x-exacto knife. In her other hand she held a Versace blazer, his Versace blazer. The Mexican stand-off had been going on for several minutes, and he was waiting for a tumbleweed to blow by. ”Drop the knife,” he said slowly, arms up as if ready to restrain Floria. She tilted her head, smiled chillingly. Damien just before plucking his fingers from the railing. ”I don’t think so, Elliot,” she chimed, her voice full of childish innocence. She was a teenager now, he wasn’t easily fooled. After she spoke, he sighed heavily, made as if he were about to walk out of his room, and when she lowered her arm, he quickly and carefully snatched the knife. She didn’t struggle, afraid she’d cut herself. He closed the knife, his eyes on her face. ”I’m telling Luke,” he said levelly, to which she responded, ”See what I care!” They both knew that she did.

He found his father in the kitchen, wiping off his hands on a dish towel. When Luke turned to him, Elliot placed the knife inhis hand. ”You shouldn’t take your work home with you,” he said dryly. ”Gloria?” Luke asked, and he sighed as his son nodded. ”I’ll talk to her, you go help your grandmother in the laundry room.” Elliot walked to the door leading to said room, adjacent to the kitchen, and when he opened it he was immediately wading in a pool of suds and soap. ”Goddamn machines!” Nana Grace held up a blouse, cigarette in her small mouth, pure white hair spiked up. He slowly moved over to the washing machine and turned it off. ”Can’t you do something about this mess, Elliot?” she said cantankerously. He held his hands together as if giving a lecture. ”What you have here, ma’am, is a sudsy flood that is quite honestly out of my elemental power. I apologize for the inconvenience.” He punctuated this with a nod. The woman was old as dirt, he wondered how the damn washing machine could prove such an enigma to her.

In that moment, the phone in his pocket vibrated and he quickly texted back, thinking Ethan to be an angel sent by God at this point. ”Yeah, just come over.” He pocketed the phone and went on his laptop to look for ways to clean up Tide from a laundry room. Every day Nana Grace gave him something new to Google. He was sweating in his t-shirt, waiting for the air to kick on and save him from the heat. When Ethan arrived, he opened the door and nodded his head to the kitchen. ”Yeah, so I need your assistance in the laundry room. There’s been an accident.” He stepped aside to let the Water graduate in. His house was immaculately decorate, pastels and flowers and soft paintings like a gentle breeze.

Elliot scratched the back of his head, and said, "Yeah, that's what happens when you let a seventy-year-old woman do laundry," he said vaguely. Of course, Nana Grace was pretty competent considering her age. She was like a fucking tank, actually, and refused to go to a home. She'd be living alone if his parents didn't disapprove of it. He remembered the argument that had gone down when she refused to be taken care of, and Luke told her that she could pay rent if it made her feel better about the situation. Yeager wondered how the bitter, sarcastic old woman could have given birth to such a free-spirited and emotional man. He was a lot like his biological mother, the same sense of humor and all. For a moment he wondered where she'd gotten to, and decided that he'd call her later.

He opened the door, and said, "Hike up your jeans, bro," He said. The water level had gone down, and Nana Grace had fled the scene. Couldn't have gotten too far, the old bag. Even though he always seemed to be annoyed by his family, he loved all of them greatly, of course. Even Gloria when she took a knife to his clothes. "You're a graduate, right, can you do something about the water or is it to soapy?" It wasn't too deep, just a coating on the floor, the biggest problem was going to be the suds. "The second problem is the suds. I believe I'm going to do all laundry from now on." He wouldn't mind, even though he had a job and school to worry about. He'd been doing chores since he could walk, he'd always been working in this house. His parents had raised him right, they were just having to deal with Gloria. She had been older when they'd adopted her, and so she already had her own set of morals and values. He talked to her about her parents sometimes, when they weren't at each other's throats. It made him sad whenever they did, though, even though he couldn't let it show. Gloria probably knew, though. She was smart like that.