A Glimse at Freedom: Final Draft

Christian Davis

Sister Steadman

Writing 150

March 29, 2012

A Glimpse of Freedom

“Boom, Boom, Boom!”   

“I Got it Mom!” I exclaimed.  It could only be one thing.  I had been waiting for this moment for months.   I leapt to the navy blue oversized door, unlocked it, and swung it open.  

“Are you ready?” Greg exclaimed with excitement in his voice.

“Heck yes!” I yelled. “Let me grab my bags, I’ll be out in a moment.”  I could nearly feel it.  It was unbelievable.  It was impossible.  Yet, it was very real.   It was the one thing I had been longing for my entire life, and it was finally here: Freedom.  

“Bye Mom! Bye Dad!” I screamed across the house as my voice echoed through the halls.  “I love you guys, I’ll see you in just a few day.”  This was it.  It didn’t need to be said.  It was just implied.  It was a test.  I stuffed my dark grey oddly-shaped bags in the trunk of silver mini van parked diagonally across the tan cobblestone driveway.  It was a beautiful bright summer day.  There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.  It smelt fresh; it felt new.

“Am I the last stop?” I asked.

“Yes Sir,” Greg exclaimed, “Let’s hit the road!”  We just weren’t excited, we were more than thrilled.  We had every detail planned to a tee, including the name of our trip.  We referred to it as Man-cation or Extrava-man-ganza.  All six of my very best friends were here.  It was our last hurrah before college split us up.  We were determined to have the time of our lives.  

Noticing that I hadn’t eaten all day I screamed at Greg over noise of the car, “What’s for dinner?”  

Immediately everybody answered, “Hula Burgers!”  This was my first test.  These just weren’t any ordinary burgers, they were legendary.  Each patty was carefully hand crafted and marinated in just the perfect amount of teriyaki sauce.  Each pineapple was precisely sliced in just the perfect shape.  Each bun was slowly grilled in just perfect amount of time.  And of course, it was my Dad’s secret recipe.  I was determined to make the best burgers I possibly could.  I didn’t need my Dad’s help.  This was finally my task.

  “Woot, woot, hurrah!”  we screamed as we pulled into the circular unloading zone directly in front of our hotel.  We had finally made it to Palm Spring.  We grabbed our bags and immediately headed for the hotel room.  

“Swoosh!”  

“Wow, this hotel room is incredible!” Greg exclaimed as he opened up the door.  I quickly scanned the room, but my attention was immediately drawn to the kitchen where I had the chance to prove myself.  It wasn’t a large kitchen, probably the size of a medium dinner table shoved into the lower right hand corner of the room.  The stainless steel sink was on the left and the stove was on the right.  It wasn’t the ideal place to make burgers, but it had to do.

“Where’s the supplies?” I asked.

“Underneath the table, in the blue cooler,” Greg responded.  Greg unpacked his Coleman grill and together we lit the flames and waited for the grill to heat up.  

“Here’s the first one!” he said as he handed me the patty. Twenty minutes past by and the patty was still completely raw, without a single sign of improvement.

“What do you think we should do, Christian?” Greg asked.

“I have no idea,” I responded.

“Let’s move inside,” Greg hesitated. “We’ll grab the grill top and throw them on the stove instead.  That should do it.”  I had failed the first time.  This was my last shot to prove myself.  I slowly started to cook the burgers with the utmost care, hoping make outstanding burgers.  

“Beep, Beep, Beep!” I turned around, looked past the table, and scanned the room for Greg, but but all I could see was a a thick layer of gray smoke.  

“Holy cow! Grab the towels, we need to shut off this smoke detector alarm before the fire department comes!” Greg yelled worriedly.  I quickly grabbed a yellow pool towel and began swinging it with all my might at the smoke detector.  

“Quick, call the hotel!” I yelled.  It didn’t need to be said.  It was just known.  I had failed.  I instantly began longing for my Father’s burgers and my Mother’s maternal care.  I was hungary and helpless.  I didn’t want to say it, but I needed my parents help.  This was a problem only they could solve.