Comments: Rough first draft. This definitely needs to be reworded in places, and it could do with at least some expanding: some more characterisation wouldn’t hurt, a little information about place & time (it’s supposed to be oppressively hot). Oh: and a climax ending that isn’t incredibly lame would be nice, too. Also, I can’t decide whether this bit is more or less enough in itself, or whether it’s just the bare bones of something that’s maybe a page longer. I get the feeling that most of the mood and the contents are there; but are they enough?
Daniel looked definitely the most floral of the three, with his cheap toy crown that was getting too small and a brightly patched bit of table cloth tied around his neck. The hilt of a wooden sword, tucked behind the improvised cape, rubbed uncomfortably against the back of his head. He wished he had brought a belt or a length of rope, or better still, that he’d simply left all of it in the booth of the rental car.
“I bet,” Daniel’s father was saying, “that none of the other kids at school will be able to talk about something this old. What do you think, Danny?”
Daniel didn’t want to say anything, but the injustice was simply too great to be shut up within. “That’s cause they’ll have had proper fun. Back home, with friends and everything. All we’ve done so far is walk and buy t-shirts and go to museums.”
"And dad?” Daniel’s sister said, “If this is such an interesting place, where is everybody? There isn’t a living soul in sight. I haven’t even seen any of those ridiculous panels with three fucked up-translations from French. . I’m bored.”
Daniel hadn’t thought about that. “The other kids won’t have been made to visit places no-one ever goes to. Why couldn’t we have gone someplace closer to home? Rob is probably snowboarding right now.”
Brenda cut in. “Oh pah-leez. Daniel, will you just shut up about that kid. That’s the fifth time you’ve mentioned him today.”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes it is! I’ve been keeping a tally. See? These four are this morning’s, and —”
“Oh, that’s a lie! You’re just making this up!”
Their father didn’t stop, but only turned his head. “Stop bickering, both of you. Be quiet, or I will drag you off this mountain.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Brendy said, her eyes narrow slits in her tanned face. Her chin was jutting out belligerently. “You’ve only dragged us up here in the first place because Linda told you to leave her alone today and you don’t know enough French to figure out where anything else is.”
Their father nodded. His voice sounded calm when he said, “That’s right. Linda needs some time off. And you are going to respect that every bit as much as I do. It won’t kill you to take out your boredom just on me for once. You’re an intelligent girl, Brendy, but when you’re like this even I can’t stand being around you. And that goes for you too, Daniel.”
They climbed on in silence after that, spreading out a little to feel at least partially disconnected from the others, until the tension got to Daniel and he tried to change the subject. “That looks more like it’s a mighty big heap of rubble instead of a castle. There’s barely any walls left.” Right after he’d said it he knew it could be understood as more criticism of their father’s decision to take them up here, and he knew he would take it as such by the way he moved his head left and right to loosen his neck muscles.
Before he could say anything else and correct his error, Brendy had closed in again. “Did you really think you could use all that junk up there? I told you it’d be useless to drag it all along. You’re just making a fool of yourself. And dad’s carrying your picnic for you. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Stop it!” their father shouted. He hadn’t raised his voice when Brendy had said Linda’s name with such a vitriolic edge, but he did so now, and they could hear the crumbled ruins ahead bouncing his words back at them. He turned abruptly around and started heading downhill, looking straight ahead, the bald spot on the back of his head bright red from yesterday’s boat outing.
He deliberately picked up the pace. “Come on. Let’s hurry. We’ll eat in the car.”
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The title drew me in, Petroglyph...it promises adventure.
 The introduction you’ve given here definitely makes me want to know more about what will happen to the boy and his father. I found them sympathetic characters, and,as the divorced parent of a little boy who has gone through the castle and sword stage, I thought that th family drama-dialogue rang true (though if it were me, I would have piped up about use of the F word, ha ha.)
Also love your setting—having dragged my own offspring around the "Continental Relics Trail" (although I only had one of them to cope with! You’d need the skills of a brigadier general to manage multiple out-of-sorts adolescents, I should think. So you’ve laid the groundwork for more juicy comedy, adventure, and drama to unfold!Â
While reading, I did get a bit confused near the beginning at the point where the boy mentions wishing he’d left some gear behind in the rental car booth. For some reason, that choice of descriptive words, "the booth of the rental car," didn’t sound like a phrase that a little guy who still wears capes and swords would use, even if thinking to himself…That phrase confused me as to how old the boy was actually meant to be.
But I like these characters, and do want to know more about their different experiences—Ãs a reader, I’m ready to go on holiday with them, LOL.
Maybe you could mention
Maybe you could mention Brenda’s name before, because you say "Daniel’s
sister said" And then, later "Brenda cut in." I’m guessing Brenda is
Daniel’s sister…
Like spiritj says "the booth of the rental car" does sounds too grown up…
I’m interested where you’re heading with Daniel & his family.
Thanks guys. I was not so
Thanks guys. I was not so sure about the booth of the rental
car thing (among other things) but I needed some native English
input.
—-
I had a childish dream of walking past apple trees in bloom, to a small mountain cemetery. We walked along with angels
— Prolapse, Essence of cessna
Just some random thoughts...
Compact, nothing unnecessary, just pure story. Just what a short short should be.Â
I thought Brendy’s dropping of the ‘F-bomb’ and dad’s ignoring that behavior revealed quite a bit about the characters and their relationship. I’m assuming Linda is the step-mom or GF, no? If not a little clarification there might help.Â
I like the conflict between Daniel and Brendy who seem to agree only on dad’s error in choosing such a dreadful destination for them. It’s all delightfully dysfunctional. Their spreading out on the trail is a nice portrait of their disconnection and I think it would work to simply show us this rather than tell us as well. If they were to become separated somehow by a cleft in the rock for example that could be even more powerful.
I like that there are only three characters in the scene and that that their traits aren’t overly similar. I think that’s an ideal number in a story of this length. Any more would be too confusing methinks.Â
The theme is one with which I can identify having three sons (9, 12, 14) who seem to relish any opportunity to knock dad off the mountain so to speak.Â
I like the story’s length, I think if you drag it out too much, you risk losing the strong emotional impact. There’s not much plot to speak of but that’s a good thing here.  In one brief, blinding instant we are witness to the interplay of human relationships and that’s enough.
I’m anxious to see where
I’m anxious to see where this will go, coming from a dysfunctional family myself. LOL
When the F-bomb dropped, I wasn’t sure if Dad didn’t care, or had finally given up on his teenage daughter. My mother would have slapped me silly.
Keep working on this. I want to see where it goes.Â
I loved the paragraph, "They climbed in silence…" It showed that the boy wasn’t just ornery but knew how his choice of words impacted his father’s mood. Â
Yeah, that’s it.
Bud, WD: remarks duly noted.
Bud, WD: remarks duly noted. I’ll be taking them into account. I’d
been struggling with the f-word bit anyway before settling on this
half-baked solution, but at the time I was unable to think of a briefer
way to put it.
I like the phrase "delightfully dysfunctional". These situations are truly a delight to write!
—-
I had a childish dream of walking past apple trees in bloom, to a small mountain cemetery. We walked along with angels
— Prolapse, Essence of cessna