Better grab the remote. This show stinks. OK. I’ll just--BZZRRT. AHH! Bright light from nowhere! What the heck is going on here? Wait a minute. I’m not where I was a minute ago. In fact, I can see all the characters from my favorite show around me. The main family, the neighbors, the townspeople. And TV cameras are everywhere, too. Am I going crazy? Probably. Have I somehow just been transported into my TV show? Sure looks like it. Time to finally meet these characters. Just don’t expect me home anytime soon.
Still new to town, Beulah was lonely. She had few friends here. Of course she loved Flora, but it just wasn’t the same
She even thought of her ex. But he was far away. And there were good reasons, she remembered, why he was an ex. The divorce has been contentious. He had wanted custody of Flora, not because he loved her, but because of her potential for championship Doberman pups. Well, Beulah had taken care of that. Flora now had no reason to worry about romance or motherhood. Pity it wasn’t that easy for Beulah. As we know the severe winter weather has prompted Canada to talk preparedness. According to their instructions, I gathered the gas line antifreeze, lock de-icer, flares, blanket, wool socks, oversize boots, mittens, thick hat, ear muffs, LED flashlight, jumper cables, cell phone charger, rope, folding shovel, candle, waterproof matches, clean juice can, first aid kit, energy bars, plastic sheet, spare pair of glasses, bungee cord, coat hanger, Swiss army knife, kitty litter and an oil soaked cloth stuffed into a plastic baggie. As if this isn't hard enough to manage, now they won't let me on the bus, with it.
He thinks I’m stupid I know he does. It’s the questions he asks. Do I know this, do I know that? Who cares? I’m leaving anyway. But before I go I want to silence him once and for all, to see the look on his face when I finally…
Concentrate. One more practice. Click, click. No. There must be no sound. I must use this device to full effect and succeed. I’ve waited for this moment long enough. I look him in the eye. I’ve caught him by surprise. The look on his face says it all. Click. Excellent presentation! I rolled out of bed and I fell on the floor, then I picked myself up and walked into a door. I aimed for the bathroom and tripped on a slipper, then back to the ground but only much quicker. I stumbled up straight and threw opened the door skinning three of my toes with the door and the floor. My head was just pounding, my foot was all cut so I sat down to rest, with the toilet seat up. Now fully awake I still banged my knee. I give up I can't do it, I need morning coffee.
I miss my sister and can’t wait for her to come back from her holiday. I’m also quite desperate to speak with her. Before she went away she said to me, “I think Eric next door likes you. Make sure you look after yourself while I’m away.”
I did exactly that. I did my hair, my nails and bought new clothes. Then Eric asked me out. I was thrilled and said yes. I texted my sister to share the good news but she called me stupid. I wonder why? Eric is such a nice man, so is his wife. “Danny, did you add anything to the spinach?” Alice asked.
Danny looked at her. “Such as? Garlic? Smoked paprika? Spinach might go well with sumac, I suppose. You said no butter.” “I could swear it tastes of curry.” “It does taste of something. But I didn’t add it. Jerk seasoning, perhaps?” “No, it’s curry,” Alice said. “Vindaloo. There’s a hint of vinegar. It could be off.” “Better not eat it,” Danny said. “Pity. I like spicy spinach. But we’ll need something – how about a burger?” Defeated, Alice agreed. Discreetly, Danny winked at the cat, whose reward would be the chicken. Years ago, a friend of ours, Clovis Muir, sat us down and told us he was going to be an international jewel thief. Clovis was 92, walked like a foot was asleep, and had the pointiest head. We laughed so hard, Ned peed hisself.
We never saw Clovis again. Then about six months ago, a rich fella passed, just before turning 100. TV showed a real bad picture, but we swear it was Clovis. Then new stuff started coming to town. Today, we're going to the new EHquatic center, for a shower. I think, Clovis made it and never forgot us Originally posted on 11th October 2013 and reposted on 11th January 2014 with picture added. “I've been making cakes,” announced Jed, “baking's really therapeutic isn't it?” Anita looked at what he'd done. Covering the kitchen table were beautifully decorated cupcakes, slices of malt loaf, treacle scones and an elaborately iced, three-tier fruit cake. Her mouth watered. Where to start? Should she try scones, fresh from the oven and thickly buttered? Or should she slice into fruit cake and cram her mouth with dried fruit, marzipan and sugar paste? “I'll get a plate,” she murmured, the doctor's prescription still in her handbag. Blood test results back that morning: type 2 diabetes and coeliac disease... Sam had always been a strict disciplinarian with the boys. Spilt milk, broken toy, whatever, was enough for them to get slapped soundly. The boys, 2 years apart, were told repeatedly not to play ball in the house. Well, after tiring of jumping on the bed with grandma pleading with them to stop, they got out that fateful ball. Who exactly kicked the ball is unknown. But the result was plain – the chandelier was repositioned from ceiling to floor.
When Sam came home, I was there to greet him, calm him down. The two culprits were nowhere to be found. Danny looked at the plate in front of him. Alice had not been kidding in her stated mission of shaping him up. A lone chicken breast nestled in a bed of steamed spinach, unadorned by the palate-rescuing qualities of butter.
The cat, a habitual stealer of food from plates, jumped up on the table, sniffed the plate and jumped off again. He shot Alice a filthy look. “Blast that SuperParkingAttendant Convention™ uniform,” Danny thought to himself. “And I'm not fat anyway, just big-boned as my dear, departed mum always used to say.” He hung up the phone.
For sixty-odd years he'd wondered about his real name, wondered who his parents were and why they had given him away. “How old were you?” she'd asked. “Were they kind to you?” “Maybe six months,” he'd said, “Yes. Mom was an alcoholic. Dad was strong and provided well for me.” His standard response. But this time, there was an insight. She drank because no one had allowed her to grieve the stillborn, the miscarried children. When he'd arrived she was still drowning in grief. And no one had thrown her a lifeline. Martha loved Luke but she still missed Jonas. He'd known how to calm her down when she was upset by simply saying her name twice. It was their secret magic code.
Luke spoke. “Where were you when Jesus died? I hear strange things happened on that day.” “Yes, they did.” According to townsfolk the dead had been raised except for Jonas. Why? If God really cared he should have raised him too. “I need to prepare the evening meal,” she said abruptly. He could see that she was upset. He drew her close into his arms and whispered, “Martha, Martha…” I’ll preface this one by saying this: “Hey--it could happen.” (In fiction, anyway.)
Trent, the nerdy high school student, had finally worked up the courage. “Amy, you’re the prettiest girl in school. Will you please go to the prom with me?” Amy giggled. “Sure thing. When pigs fly.” She and her many friends fell into laughter. Trent shifted his gaze. “Uh, Amy? Take a look out the window.” To Amy’s shock, she saw numerous pink winged creatures sailing through the air. Her jaw dropped. “Brand-new, and successful, science experiment.” Trent grinned. “You should really stay more current with the news. So, I’ll pick you up at seven, then?” Artie, thirteen, approached the parking lot attendant, a young man wearing slacks and a jacket sporting the company’s logo.
“Hey,” Artie said, “I bet you make big bucks, man.” The attendant, Fred Young, sat in his wooden hutch feeling mildly annoyed. “No,” I only make $1.47 an hour.” “That’s what I mean by a lot,” Artie said. “Are you kidding? I’m married and have a kid.” “Will you lend me eighty-five cents? I want to play pinball.” Fred reached for his club; he changed his mind—gave Artie the money—but the kid didn’t leave, and Fred heard the click. They all go on about what is typical. Well, damn it. Typical isn’t universal. It’s time they learned their assumptions are only that.
Ten minutes. That’s all I’ve got to defy the odds and show them something unexpected. To close the deal. It’s done. I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be, but now two of them are being doctored and I am here. Barely 5’2” and 140 pounds from a small town in the south and weaponless, they fooled themselves. I’m training now. It won’t be long before I’m part of Omega Squad. “I’m scared mum.” She squeezed my hand. “You’re so brave darling.”
I had been mum’s only carer and now, well, that would change. During a medical examination six months earlier my world had been turned upside down. The news had shocked everyone. “You can go now mum. I’ll see you again when…” Mum walked out before I could finish. She was crying. I closed my eyes for the last time picturing flowers, lights. A voice said, “Let’s go.” It was just as people had said it would be. And why not? I’d married the town’s most eligible bachelor. “I’d like to go the way Slim Pickens did in Doctor Strangelove, riding a nuclear bomb down to ground zero – bang! Gone in an instant – and, boy what a ride!” Everyone laughed at Dave’s chosen manner of death, that is, if he were allowed to choose.
“Your turn, Lori.” “I’d like to go peacefully, in my sleep.” Samantha came in from a visit to the loo, unaware of the new topic of conversation. Someone asked, “Well, Sam … how would you like to die?” She stopped abruptly. “Umm, no thanks, I’d rather not.” Then she bolted out the front door. If he hadn’t been talking so loudly, if he’d simply stood in place and hung out inside his private soap he’d have been like the rest of us. Silent riders. Social morons. Anonymous commuters moving from point A to point B at the same time and in the same way year after year.
Instead, this eclipsed soul with a chiseled jaw of canines was the new millennium Pied Piper of Redundancy. Thirty-five. Useless. His bright wife has become delusional. The dominoes started falling. His chest heaved. His lips twitched. Eyes watered. "I cannot feed my son." Redundant fatherhood? Useless? Humanity? Kathy had grown weary of always struggling to fit in and trying to make people like her. Deciding she needed a break from society, she hopped into her space truck and took to the cosmos for a little intergalactic road trip and some me time. She was nearing the moon when the clunking noises began. She placed a call to a friend back on earth.
“No worries,” he said. “There’s a small colony on this side of the moon now. Just get them to accept you, and you’ll be able to survive there indefinitely.” Kathy screamed. “...so I waited and waited and then on day 4 I pounced! I knew I would catch her eventually.”
Listening dispiritedly to the conversations around him, Danny wondered if the SuperParkingAttendant Convention™ had been a mistake. The cat, however, had been insistent he attend. He might actually learn how to be a SuperParkingAttendant and be able to bust through doors for real. Danny scanned the programme. The speaker due on at 11am sounded interesting. “The Feline Role in Perfect Parking”; the talk to be delivered by some dude called Leon. Danny shrugged to himself. It sounded promising. Upset and bewildered, Beulah chased her uncharacteristically disobedient dog. Flora, a Doberman whose manners were usually impeccable, had suddenly charged toward a building, barking frenziedly and dragging Beulah at the end of the leash.
Just as suddenly, Flora stopped. The door opened, and a man who appeared to be wearing vinyl long underwear dashed out. A cat strolled behind him. At the curb, a now-quiet Flora woofed once at the cat, just for the honor of dogdom. “What was that all about?” asked Beulah. Flora finished her business, scratched, and trotted docilely to heel. His demeanor was that of Lord and Master, casually dispensing arrogance to beggars and serfs at his feet. In hand, uncommon in both form and function, was a masterpiece of superbly crafted science. A razor sharp point, stemmed into a smooth, meticulously ground barrel, then tapered impossibly, gracfully, into an unframed square, of colourful and perfectly aligned wings. The room fell silent, holding its breath, when he turned toward the wall. He raised his hand and with an elegant flourish, loosed the shaft to a resting place beside the target. He looked toward me. I suggested he try hockey.
For those who have lost track of the story so far, Danny the parking attendant has found himself pushed aside by Carlos in the battle for Alice's affections. But parking attendants are made of sterner stuff than that. This was posted on 3rd January.
Danny awoke to find himself locked in a large, lightless cupboard. His head throbbed as he struggled to recall what calamity had befallen him. Slowly in the darkness it came to him: a swarthy, moustachioed man had been behind him, grabbed him, then a sharp prick in his neck before... Danny felt around him. He recognised some mops and brushes below, dusters and J-cloths on the shelf above. Miraculously, he could feel six bottles of water on the floor corner. But he was trapped, all alone, in the hall cupboard. Suddenly he felt something, and heard a familiar sound. “Miaow.” The next instalment of Danny's story followed on 6th January. Locked in the cupboard, Danny grew increasingly frustrated. What was going on? Was his beloved Alice safe from Carlos? For sure, he knew he couldn’t rely on the pacifist dog movement to rescue her. And now, a new consideration – what was Leon up to? Worst of all, Alice’s cat was pleading with him to do something. Anything. He didn’t want to do it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Danny donned his tight-fitting latex outfit, complete with cape and a large ‘P’ on the front, and became “SuperParkingAttendant”. Confidently, SuperParkingAttendant put his shoulder to the door. Hopeless. Still trapped. The next chapter followed on the following day... Crushed, Danny – aka SuperParkingAttendant – sank back into the cupboard. What use was he to the world? Would he ever issue another parking ticket? Only just, he resisted the temptation to kick Alice’s cat. “Just as well,” the cat said. “I want out of here as much as you do, but I need your help.” “OK, smarty-pants,” said Danny, “What’s your idea, then?” “Alice keeps a spare key on the top shelf. But cats can’t work keys in locks.” Danny reached up – YES! With one bound, SuperParkingAttendant turned the key in the lock and was free. “About time,” Alice’s cat thought. And then on the 8th January... Having escaped from imprisonment in a dark cupboard, Danny – now fully transformed into SuperParkingAttendant – strode through the house masterfully. But although he searched thoroughly, he could find Alice nowhere. He was about to open an upstairs window and take off in desperation, when the front door opened and in walked the woman herself, carrying three large carrier bags. “Alice!” Danny said. “Wonderful to see you! Where have you been?” “Doing the week’s shopping, of course, what else?” She added, “And why are you wearing that stupid fancy-dress outfit again?” In the corner, Alice’s cat watched and simply scratched his ear. 6:10: She woke to an early dawn without breeze. The air felt summertime mild and she knew the sea would call.
8:30: The sea - still as glass – beckoned. “Come swim!” “Oh, yes,” the woman answered,” I will.” 11:45: Laundry was hung, chores done, the sea called again. “Come now.” The woman shed clothes for a swimsuit and hurried down the windy hill to stand before the horizon of sea. 12:00: A flock of birds floated lazily twenty yards out to sea as she splashed her way into the icy water, swimming passed the birds - and beyond the visible horizon. |
"Classic"
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