48 Hour Short Story Contest

         Casey watched as the small creature scurried across the grass, an excited laugh exploding from his mouth. "Mama!" he yelled enthusiastically, pointing as the tiny chipmunk made its way up the oak tree near the back of their house. "A 'quirrel, Mama," he shrieked. "A 'quirrel."

         Anja let out a soft giggle of delight. "Chipmunk," she corrected happily.

         Casey shook his head determinedly, his eyebrows scrunching with disappointment. "A 'quirrel!"

         "Squirrels have bushy tails," Anja explained gently as her three-year-old son crossed his arms and forced his lower lip out in a pout. "That was a chipmunk."

         Casey, happy to have his mother's attention, wanted to continue the argument. Of course he knew that it wasn't a squirrel --and, for that matter, he even knew that squirrel started with an "S", but his parents had been spending so much time with his new baby sister that he didn't mind looking foolish, at least, then, he knew his parents hadn't forgotten about him.

         "Ready for the barbecue, Champ?" Daniel asked as he walked across the lawn from the garage.

         Casey smiled at his father. "Barbecue?" he repeated, his eyes wide with anticipation.

         Daniel tousled his son's sandy blonde hair in a playful, affectionate gesture. "Everyone will be here soon."

         "Mama," Casey yelled as he ran toward the house, "We're going to have a barbecue!"

         Anja laughed as she followed the small boy into the house. "That's right, Casey. And you're going to behave aren't you?"

         Smiling, Casey nodded emphatcially. "Of course, Mama!"

         "Alrighty, Champ," Daniel said as joined his family in the kitchen, "go and get washed up."

         Casey rolled his eyes. "I'm clean, Daddy."

         Daniel knelt down before his son and took his tiny hands into his own. "What's all that dirt, Mr. Clean Boy?"

         Casey's cheeks grew rosy with embarrasment. He let out an exasperated sigh, took his hand's from his father's gentle grip and left the kitchen.

         "Are you sure that you're up for this?" Daniel asked, looking into Anja's tired eyes.

         "It must be done, Daniel," she said sadly.

         Daniel sighed. "We can wait, Anja. We don't have to tell everyone right now."

         Anja rolled her eyes, weary of the conversation that they'd had too many times over the past few nights. "Waiting will only make it harder, Daniel."

         Daniel's eyes welled with tears. He knew that she was right. He reached out for her, enveloping her in his muscular arms as she stepped toward him, resting her tired head on his chest. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against the top of her head. "Ya tebya lyublyu, Anja," he said soothingly, proud of the only Russian sentence he had learned without her teaching him.

         Anja stepped back and looked up into Daniel's chestnut brown eyes. "I love you too," she said in a near-whisper as she walked out of the room.

         Daniel walked quietly to the mail table by the front door. Tears began to trickle down his cheeks as he lifted the letter that had changed their lives forever.

Mrs. Anja Cheknov:
         Upon your request for permanent citizenship to the United States of America, we have looked into your file.
         We regret to inform you that we cannot grant your citizenship at this time due to lack of proper documentation.
         To avoid deportation, please present all neccessary documents to your local INS office within 45 days of this letter.

         Daniel wiped the tears from his cheeks. Forty-five days, he repeated silently.

         "Daddy, can I wear my soccer shirt?"

         Daniel stuffed the letter back into its envelope and dropped it onto the table before turning around toward his son. "Your soccer shirt?" he question in mock-surprise, knowing that Casey hadn't wanted to take the shirt off since they picked it up at his last practice. "What if it gets dirty, Champ?"

         "I'll be careful, Daddy..."

         "No, Champ," he ruled sadly. "Don't you want it to be all perfect and clean for your first game?"

         "I want Uncle Mike to see it, though," Casey argued.

         "You can show it to him without wearing it, Champ. Why don't you wear your Spongebob shirt?"

         Casey shook his head, his nose scrunching in disgust. "I don't like Spongebob. He's stupid!"

         That's what I thought when you loved him last week, Daniel thought with a laugh. "Okay, let's go and see what we can find."


         Anja sat in the rocking chair beside her two-month-old daughter's crib, watching the baby through tears as she slept. They had tried everything humanly possible to obtain all of her documents, but to no avail. According to the United States, she was here on an expired Visa. According to Russia, she just didn't exist. All her parents were able to retrieve was her birth certificate. That was all she had.

         How can they do this? she cried silently. How can they rip me away from my family? There must be some mistake...

         She had struggled all of her life to save money for her dream of coming to America and when Melor Cheknov had said he was an American citizen and would bring her back as his wife, she jumped at the chance, marrying him within the week only to have him bring her to America and go on a business trip that he'd never returned from. It was then that she'd found out he was not a citizen at all, but she could do nothing to have the marriage annulled nor did she know how to find him for a divorce. She found herself alone in the strange country, struggling to get by until she'd met Daniel.

         She immediately fell in love with the muscular blond with mesmerizing brown eyes, and she knew that he was in love with her as well. Even knowing that a marriage between them may never be possible, Daniel still treated her as his wife, loving her, living with her, even having children with her.

         She stood up, looking down at her innocent baby. There must be some mistake. Please, God, don't let them do this to me...

         Tears streamed down her face, but her lips spread into a hopeful smile as she thought of the Immigration Lawyer who had agreed to take her case. At the worst, it would at least buy her more time with her family.

         She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize Daniel's presence in the room until his arms were wrapped around her. "It will be okay, Anja," he whispered.

         She turned to face him, not bothering to hide her sadness or tears. "How, Daniel? How can it be okay?"

         Daniel cupped her head in his strong hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs to remove her tears before pressing his lips to hers. "We will find a way, Anja," he soothed. "Or we will go with you to Russia."

         More tears threatened to fall, but Daniel quickly wiped them away. "No, Daniel," she resisted, sniffling and fighting to gain her composure. "I do not want the children growing up in Russia. They are Americans, Daniel. Please, let them be American."

         Daniel sighed, struggling to think of something to say as the doorbell rang.

         "It's Uncle Mike!" Casey yelled happily as he ran toward the front door.

         Daniel's lips met once more with Anja's. "Are you sure about this?"

         She nodded, forcing herself to smile before following him out of the room.


         Daniel stared absentmindedly into the flames contained by the grill.

         "How are those hockey pucks come along?" his older brother asked playfully, the stench of beer assaulting Daniel's nostrils.

         Daniel looked up from the fire, eyes filled with tears. "They're going to deport her," he lamented quietly so that only Mike could hear.

         Mike's happy expression quickly faded, his drunk buzz almost fading from the seriousness in his brother's eyes. "What? Why? How?" He let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at the woman who he accepted and loved as his sister-in-law as she held his niece and played happily with his nephew. "How can they do that?"

         "We got a lawyer, but I don't know, Man... She was born in Russia and married in Russia. It's so hard, Mike..." he sniffled, struggling to hold back the tears. "There's all these fucking laws, Mike... I just don't get it."

         Mike extended his arm and gripped his brother's shoulder in a supportive gesture. "How long?"

         Daniel looked into his brother's glassy eyes. "About a month, but the lawyer should be able to get it extended."

         Mike closed his eyes, regretting that he'd walked over to his brother. This is going to kill my buzz, he thought.

         "Fire!" Casey yelled.

         Quickly, Mike and Daniel turned toward the grill, reaching toward the lid to contain the grease fire that had suddenly sparked as a waterfall of hose water soaked through their clothes, chilling them and making them yell at the sudden surprise.

         As soon as the fire was extinguished and the spray of water ceased, laughter filled the air. Holding the hose, Anja covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh too hard at her beloved and his brother. "I'm sorry," she struggled to apologize.

         Without hesitation, Daniel and Mike rushed at her, Daniel grabbing her as Mike grabbed the hose, squeezing the nozzle's trigger, he aimed it at Anja, laughing playfully as the water rushed at her.

         Within minutes, every relative and friend at the barbecue was soaked through and through, laughing maniacally at the childish display that had overtaken the barbecue.

         Seeing that he had drenched every attendant, Mike dropped the hose to the ground. "Daniel," he shouted across the lawn, "get me a beer!"

         Kissing Anja before walking away, Daniel complied with his brother's request.

         Turning his attention back to the grill, Mike turned off the knobs and began lifting the burnt meat off of the rack. "Burgers are done," he yelled gleefully, laughing at his own joke.

         "I'll do that," Daniel yelled as he walked toward his drunken brother who was fidgeting with the knobs to get the grill to relight. Seeing that Mike wasn't stopping, he shouted louder. "Leave it alone, Mike."

         Suddenly, a great cloud of fire choked up from the grill. Falling backward onto the ground, Mike let out a scream of fear and pain. Daniel rushed to his brother's side, the grill consuming the fire as quickly as it had let it go.

         Mike sat up and looked down at his arms, the stink of singed hair causing his nose to scrunch up in disgust. He grabbed the beer in Daniel's hand and chugged it as quickly as he could.

         "Are you okay?" Daniel asked, inspecting his brother's arms for burns.

         Mike wiped away the beer that trailed down his chin. "Just hair... It'll grow back."

         "He's okay," Daniel yelled, scanning the worried crowd for his children and Anja. Seeing that Anja was suddenly absent, he headed back toward the house. "Where's Anja?" he asked nonchalantly.

         "On the phone," his sister replied, pointing to the house.

         Daniel walked in, afraid of what the phone call could be about, his gut wrenching with thoughts of Anja's deportation.

         He found her by the front door, holding the envelope containing the letter, a pair of scissors poised to cut through it. "Anja..."

         She closed the scissors, allowing one half of the envelope and letter to fall onto the mail table. "It's over," she cried happily.

         "What?" Daniel questioned, rushing to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

         "The lawyer called. They found Mekol Cheknov... His name was really Pyotr Baich. He had almost seventy-five idenities. My marriage is over, Daniel... We can marry! I can stay!"

         Tears of happiness streamed down their cheeks as their lips met in a passionate kiss. "Ya teb..."

         She put her index finger to his lips. "I'm American, Daniel. I love you."

         He smiled, unable to control his tears as the rest of his family filed into the house. "I love you too, Anja my Amerikanka."


Word Count: 1,996 Words
Written On: September 6, 2008
Written For: "48 Hour Short Story Contest"   by Legerdemain
Prompt: Short story in 48 hours including a pair of scissors, a chipmunk, a letter, a fire, and an inebriated person.
Note: While I don't really know that this completely makes sense, I felt that it was important to show the normalcy of the family... I wanted any possible reader to know that they were just a normal family and, hopefully, be able to relate...