We’re thrilled to announce the winners of September’s free writing contest! Last month we asked writers to imagine what it would be like to be a time-traveling soccer mom in a contest titled, The Drive. We had a lot of great entries but our top two are listed below! Thanks to all who entered!
Prompt:
When I first realized I could bend time, I was running late to pick up the twins from soccer practice. It had been one of those days where I just couldn’t move fast enough. By the time I had run to the bank and picked up snacks for the team I only had 10 minutes to cover a 30 minute drive! I’d never hear the end of it if that stuck-up Taylor Fields had to stay late to watch my kids again. So I just closed my eyes and pictured myself getting there at the exact moment practice ended. And wouldn’t you know it, by the time I got to the field they were just finishing up. I had gained 20 minutes! Since then, anytime I stepped into the car I could get where I needed to go, when I needed to get there. It was a lifesaver, until the day when the drive didn’t go exactly as planned.
First Place
By Nick Haskins
“Mommy please don’t be late picking us up. Mrs. Fields don’t have good things to say when you are. She thinks we can’t hear her mumbling about the late parents, but we catch her like every time.”
I listened quietly to my little boy, and his bad grammar, giggling away as he snitches on that snob soccer coach, Taylor Fields.
“Kaleb, it’s doesn’t, baby. Not ‘don’t.’” As we coast through the sunny, warm September day I adjust my review mirror to get a better look at my two angels in the backseat.
When Kaleb’s eyes met mine in the mirror, his thin eyebrows furred when he said, “Huh?”
My daughter, Kennedy, jumped in and corrected him before I had a chance to. “It’s ‘Mrs. Fields doesn’t have good things to say when Mommy is late picking us up.’ It’s doesn’t, not ‘don’t,’ dummy.”
My eyes darted to my beautiful baby girl after her insult to her brother. “Kennedy, that’s enough! What did I tell you two about calling each other names?” When neither of them answered me, I came back with, “Say it with me.” We all said, “No name-calling,” in unison.
When we arrived at the field, Kennedy and Kaleb sprang out the backseat and both shot in the direction of their teammates. When I yelled out, “Hey you two!” they both stopped and ran back in my direction. When their little bodies crashed into my legs, I hugged them both, peppering their faces with kisses while promising them I would be back in three hours.
When Kaleb ran towards his friends, I smoothed Kennedy’s hair out of her face and reminded her, “No name-calling, sweetie . . . Not to your brother or anyone else, got it?”
She looked up at me and said, “Got it!” When Kennedy took off toward her brother she quickly turned back to me and whispered, “And Mommy . . . no time-traveling today. It’s okay if you’re a little late.”
I chuckled as I watched her sprint off.
As I traveled down I-95, I hummed along to the song that was playing on iHeartRadio. I was heading to one of the outlet malls when I ran into a barrage of construction. My smooth 70 miles per hour trip was coming to a complete stop as the traffic turned into one lane. I swerved to the first exit to avoid the excitement of sitting in a traffic jam for the next hour.
When I crept off the unfamiliar exit, I made sure my doors were locked as I entered a rundown neighborhood.
When my GPS instructed me to do a U-turn, I whipped my Sienna around in the middle of the street, but before I could straighten my wheels out to head back in the direction I just came from, a muscular, masked guy jumped in through my cracked passenger side window.
I was so stunned looking at him, I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I was too frightened to scream. With my head pasted in this hoodlum’s direction, my eyes bugged out of socket.
He quickly threw my van in park as two other men jumped in the back. I couldn’t identify them either since their faces were masked too.
“Give me all your money, bitch!”
Oh my God, this cannot be happening right now! How did my trip to the outlet turn into this?!
I screamed as the guy in the front ripped the freshwater pearls from around my neck. And from the evil look in his piercing filthy eyes, I could tell he wanted more than just my jewelry.
As I fought with him, the guy directly behind me tore off my blouse. I kicked, cried, and pleaded, but it was no use. They were ripping everything I had on off!
One of the goons from the backseat hopped out, opened my door and yanked me out. As he tussled with my squirming body, he asked, “What you doin’ down here in the ghetto, lady? I could make somebody like you disappear without a trace.”
“Please . . . please don’t hurt me. I have two kids . . . twins. I-I have to pick them up from soccer practice soon. I . . . I won’t go to the cops, just . . . don’t hurt me.”
The guy from the front seat said, “Lady, we all got kids around these parts.” He cupped himself when he said, “We all got needs too.” He licked his lips when he taunted me with, “You should’ve stayed on the freeway . . . that wrong turn is about to cost you everything.”
Before they could get me into the house I was being forced to, my long acrylic fingernails clawed up the one that was dragging me up the walkway. When I broke free from his grip, he yelled out, “Get that bitch!”
As I ran for my life back to my van, they were trampling right behind me, but I couldn’t let them catch me. Unh-uh, no way! I knew if they got me in that house, there was a good chance my twins would never see me again, so I ran even faster.
When I made it to my van the thugs were steps away from me.
When one of the monsters yelled out, “GET HER, NOW!” I grabbed my stirring wheel, closed my eyes and . . .
***
“Mommy! Over here!”
My chest heaved. My mouth was dry. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything except wave at Taylor Fields, and surprisingly, she waved back today.
“Hi, Mommy! We had so much fun at practice.”
When I adjusted my mirror to the backseat, there were my angles.
“And, Mommy, we kept our promise.”
Again, we all said in unison, “No name-calling!”
When mine and Kennedy’s eyes met she asked, “Mommy . . . did you also keep your promise? No time-traveling, right?”
I smiled at her when I said, “Well . . .”
Second Place
By Megan Bickel
“,”That day I was running particularly late, as the cat had decided to hack up a hairball on the twins’ soccer uniforms I had laid out for the next day’s game. I suppose that’s what I get for planning ahead.
I ran to the driveway, fired up my aging minivan, opened the windows in an effort to air out the strange stench coming from the backseat, and pulled into afternoon traffic. Whose idea was it to have practice end in the middle of rush hour, anyway?
At the first stoplight, I closed my eyes and pictured myself getting to the soccer field at five-thirty, right on time.
“Rise and shine, lady!” a barely-baritone adolescent voice shouted, followed by a tittering of girlish giggles.
I opened my eyes and looked at the source to my right. A Jeep, filled with teenagers who did not look old enough to drive, pulled away. I said a little prayer of thanksgiving that I still had a solid five years before my girls would be in that particularly obnoxious stage of human development.
As I took the familiar turns and zipped down the usual roads, I noticed that traffic was becoming increasingly sparse. That didn’t make sense. Usually it got much worse as I went along. It was one of the reasons I was always so tickled by the fact that I kept gaining time on these trips.
When I pulled into the parking lot, the gravel crunched under my tires and the sun disappeared. I stopped the car, bewildered. There weren’t any other cars. There weren’t any kids blasting soccer balls over the net as exasperated coaches yelled about control. There weren’t lines of parents in bag chairs with small coolers of water to prevent the ever-present dehydration bogey man.
I looked at the clock on the dashboard. It said five-thirty. I looked at my watch. It said five-thirty. I looked at the sky. The smallest sliver of gold just peaking over the horizon finally clued me in. It was five-thirty. In the morning!
I had not just gained back a few minutes. I had gained a whole day!
I tried to figure out what to do next. Up until this point, this had been a fun trick with no ramifications beyond picking my children up on time. If I went home now, would I run into myself? Could I catch up with myself, or would there now always be two of me? If I killed a butterfly on my windshield on the way out of the parking lot, would I somehow irreparably damage my own timeline?
I had always happily ignored the “science” of time travel in pop culture fiction. Who needed to break their brain for an episode of Star Trek or for a fun beach read? Now I wished I had taken the time. Ha. Time.
My attention was suddenly pulled to the dark field when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. I realized I hadn’t turned my headlights on, so I was probably fairly hidden from anyone who might be around. But who would be around?
Squinting into the darkness, I could make out two figures. They seemed to be carrying a blanket and playfully running into one another. They occasionally stopped to embrace or something. It was a strange shadow show in which two shapes would become one and then separate again.
It eventually became obvious that they were heading in my direction. But why? Could they see me?
Then I saw it – Taylor Fields’s sporty little SUV parked on the side of the concessions shed. And right next to it was Coach Miller’s monstrous pick-up truck.
Oh snap.
That sanctimonious snob had the nerve to look down her surgically-altered nose at me when I was running ten minutes late and she was having a private scrimmage with Coach Miller while their respective spouses presumably slept at home! I knew her daughter was getting special treatment with unearned extra playing time. I had assumed it was because Taylor had something on Coach Miller. I just hadn’t realized the something on him was…well, Taylor.
I dragged my mind out of the gutter and back to the immediate problem. They were going to see me any minute now. I did not really want to find out what Taylor would do when she realized her little dalliance was exposed. She seemed like the kind of person who would dig up dirt on someone to silence them. Normally, I wouldn’t be too worried. I didn’t live a life that provided much blackmail fodder. But I had recently started warping time…
I closed my eyes and visualized myself in the same spot, but twelve hours later. Please, please, please let this work in the other direction. I promise I’ll never use this weird time travel again.
Suddenly, the noise of afternoon practice filled my ears. I opened my eyes to the late afternoon sun and a parking lot filled with activity. I had barely adjusted when the twins opened the side doors to climb in the minivan. Shin guards and cleats went flying the moment their butts hit the seats. That solved the mystery of the terrible stench’s origin.
“Hey, Mom,” Callie said. “Mrs. Fields says you’re in charge of snacks for tomorrow’s game. She said she’s already doing more than her fair share for the team.”
I burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Rachel said, clearly questioning her mother’s sanity.
“Nothing, honey,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Mrs. Fields is certainly going above and beyond the call of duty. By the way, I’ll probably be late tomorrow.”
