The Veracity

Craig Cooper

Suddenly, swiftly and accompanied by a mini heart attack, Craig pitched up out of his sleep. He was certain he was having a great dream but every aspect of what it was about escaped his mind the moment he opened his eyes. Craig let out a deep sigh as the morning always seems to come too soon. He sat up in the comfortable, yet battle worn double bed that pressed flush against the only windowed wall in his only slightly larger than a storage closet sized bedroom. Along with the mattress having a sunken spot in the middle from it being the only bed and mattress he had ever slept on since he was old enough to sleep in a bed alone, there was a damp patch that was made from his back sweat that accumulated through out the night. In that Bahamian climate, while sleeping in that small room, in the middle of the house, with no air conditioning, a single block of window space made up of two columns of three awning windows side by side and nothing else in terms of ventilation besides a dusty old ceiling fan that was damaged to the point that it's stuck to wobble on medium speed, warm nights could be rough. Even sleeping in the nude wouldn't help. You'd just wake up wet and with the immense desire to take several hot showers. Beyond that, the mosquitoes were other reason Craig would never end dream of it. So, no matter how hot it got, he'd always at least have on underwear and had to be covered with a blanket throughout the night. A sweaty back was a welcomed trade off to having mosquitoes feast on your nether regions while you were asleep.

A thin sheen of sweat started to form on Craig's face and he felt a droplet of the saline solution start to form right at the middle of his top lip as he stretched and yawn big cracking the tired bones in his arms and shoulders. Chirping birds, barking dogs, cars driving by, all sounding slipping in through his cracked window. He let out another yawn and dragged his palm from his forehead down the area of his face right below his nose and flicked the sweat from his face. Okay, he needed to get out of bed, that immense desire for several hot showers was starting to intensify. Craig bounced out of bed, and in one smooth motion, stripped off his partially sweat drenched underwear, slide across the bedroom floor to swing open the door to his bedroom, that was directly across from the door to the only other bathroom in the house besides the one to his parent's room, and then indecision brought him to a halt. Standing there with a hand already firmly grasping the bathroom doorknob, he was deciding if it had made more sense to do his daily in-house chores, that would only make him all sweaty again, before taking a shower. One of the benefits of waking up to an empty house, is being able to stand your hallway completely naked and not worrying about someone walking in on you. Craig had the great fortune (or misfortune as he saw it at times) of living with both his parents. They were both hard working professionals in their respective fields and were often awake and out of the house hours before Craig was rolling over and entering his first dream cycle of the morning. Due to the fact, it was always his job to make sure that the house is tidied up before he leaves for the day. Seeing that it was only the three of them, there was never much to do but it was still enough for it to be an annoyingly tedious task. Other than clean his room, this was pretty much the only thing Craig was required to do within the house. Despite, also working, Craig's mother preferred to do all the cooking and cleaning as she still had an old school approach to her wifely duties. The truth is, she didn't have to work nor did Craig's father want her to, seeing that he made more than enough to support their small middle class family, but in that regard she was new school to not want to be the type of wife that stays locked away in the house all day. So, she did with most ambitious middle age women do; took advantage of a free Continuing Education Course of adult that the local government was offering, learned the cultural trade of straw weaving, applied for a government grant to open a souvenir shop in downtown Nassau, the tourism hub of the island and started her own business making her own brand of souvenir bags, hats and purses all made of straw. Honestly, it wasn't much, but it kept her busy. She even employed Craig for time to time, who had to work for free of course, which he didn't mind, because working in his mother's store was barely working at all. He'd pretty much spend the whole time standing there staring into space until a tourist who got lost probably looking for rum or illegal substances, straggles in pretends to be interested in buying something and then asks some annoying questions about how the items are made before smiling lamely commenting that the straw work is "really cool" while walking out of the store. Spending the day working his mother's store was always a good time to catch up on homework. It was extremely quite and for the potential eight-hour workday, it was almost guaranteed that he wouldn't have to be bothered to actually physically interact with a customer more than five times; six if it was a busy day. It always brought a smile to Craig's face every time he thought about how much of a stern buzzkill of a character his mother could be and at the same time such a loudly overly positive verbal faucet she can become in a matter of seconds. She'd be extremely excited even if she made a single sale in a day; remembering the person name, where they were from, how long they were visiting, a synopsis of the entire conversation they had from the time they entered the store to the moment they left. "Customer service is key" she'd impress upon Craig in that high-pitched gawky voice of hers, "You have to be salesperson. Make them so comfortable that they feel uncomfortable leaving the store without buying anything"

"Craig ain't going to college to be a cashier in your store, Lillian!" Craig's father would respond. He was the stern, back-in-my-day type without any of the loud overly positive side his mother had. He was quietly reserved with a commanding voice when he spoke and was hard-pressed to respect any man that worked in a profession that didn't require him to work with his hands. Thus, he constantly questioned why Craig decide to major in English Literature instead of something else Electrical Engineering. They were at times annoyingly unbearable, but they were his parents and he loved them, not that he had a choice. He couldn't seem to not love them if he tried, and he definitely tried.

So,there he was, still standing naked in front of the bathroom door, in thehallway, still deciding whether to shower first and do chores later. Then awave of heat washed through that empty house pretty much making his mind up forhim. He really needed to shower, and he could always clean when he gets back.It's not as if his parents will really notice anyway. Hopefully their temperamentalwater heater wasn't malfunctioning. Even the thought of having to brave thatrush of ice-cold water for even those initial few seconds was already making himshiver is painful anticipation.