Tuesday Was Writing Day

Tuesday was writing day. It had been for years, all through High School. Mike, Jen, and Tom had met on those days, laptop bags in tow, and sat during the lunch hour, just writing. To an outsider it must have looked strange - a group of three friends sitting together, not talking, just typing, click-click-clicking away. It hadn't taken long for them to develop a reputation, and a slew of nicknames to go with it. Mike thought it was uncomfortable, Jen reveled in it. Tom didn't even think about it, because Tuesday was writing day.

Sometimes the entire hour would pass with little more than a salutation and goodbye passing between them. Other times one or the other would get blocked in by their own words, and the others would put theirs aside to help. It was usually Mike who got stuck. Not that he was a poor writer - in fact, it was quite the opposite. His vision usually grew so strongly within him that it was difficult for him to reach the level he demanded of himself. No number of forget-about-its or your-reader-won't-even-notice could stop Mike from striving for perfection. Jen thought he was wasting his time. Tom didn't even think about it. But they always helped him touch things up. Character. Plot. Dialogue. There was never a time when a plea for help went unanswered. Because Tuesday was writing day.

Jen had problems with her home-life, and it showed through her subject matter. Her father had left at a young age and her mother had turned to alcohol, leaving Jen to raise her younger sisters. Not surprisingly, her plots often dealt with wrongings and revenge, and Tom and Mike often told her how strange and psychotic her characters were. Yet her eyes would only gleam with pride, ignoring the criticism of her confidants. That was okay with them. They understood genre, and theme, and had insight enough to leave her to her organized chaos. Mike only sometimes told her that her images were too graphic, but Tom didn't even think about it. Because Tuesday was writing day.

On monday, Tom wasn't at school. Mike and Jen stared at his empty seat in History and passed glances back and forth. Tom hadn't missed school for years, so his absence symbolized something far greater and more terrifying than the absence of any other peer. At lunch they called his cell phone, only to find that it had been turned off. They called his house phone, but nobody answered. Worried, they went their separate ways and tried throughout the night. They had no luck.

Tom left the hospital that night at 10:30 PM. Their car was one person lighter than it had been on the way there. It was missing Tom's grandma. Tom usually didn't cry, but it was hard not to when the rest of his family was. Tom didn't want to cry, so when he got home he went straight to his room and shut the door. Sometime later his mom came in and stood in the doorway. She stood there for a while, not knowing what to say, and finally settled on "I'll write you a note for school tomorrow." As she turned to go, Tom called out.

"Mom?"

"Yes?" She answered softly.

"Tuesday is writing day."