Strange Fare [FICTION]

I pull up to my favorite high school haunt and peer up at the two-story red brick building. Hidden behind those thick walls are all the books I ever thought I would read as a child. A small county like ours could only sustain one library, so I assumed it held every book every written. I peer out the window, surveying the few patrons lingering outside the edifice of knowledge. I try to guess which one called for a taxi.

A tall blonde wearing a heavy coat despite the unseasonable warmth glances at me and then returns to smoking a cigarette while yelling into a battered cell phone. Even with my windows rolled up, I can almost make out her words. I shake my head and look again. 

My next contestant wears tight black pants and an equally snug t-shirt over his slender body. He takes a tentative dance step to the left and another to the right before realizing the music in his earbuds made its way down to his toes and set them tapping. He glances at me, flushes and turns away. No dance parties in my cab today.

My third option glares at me over her horn-rimmed glasses as she pulls keys out of her pocket and heads toward a parked car. I ponder her spiky blonde hair as she walks away. Then I turn my eyes toward the door of the library. As I wait impatiently for the doors to open and reveal my customer, the back door of the cab opens.

I whip around to stare at a little girl. On second glance, I decide she might barely be a teenager. She offers an impish grin.

“You got here quick. That’s good.” She begins, continuing with barely a moment to take a breath as I gape at her. “A man should be coming out of Joe’s Café any minute now. I need you to follow him.”

“Look here, little girl, if you don’t have a parent with you…”

She cuts me off, “I have money. See.” She holds up a wad of bills.

I glance at the meter and then at her youthful face. “I can’t do it, kid.”

“Would it change your mind if I told you something my uncle Gabe told me about you?” Her impish grin widens.

My face pales. “Give me your home address first.”

“Why?” Her smile fades and her eyes narrow.

“So I can take you home it if starts to get dangerous.” I reply, seriously pondering just taking her straight there, but she has piqued my curiosity.

She ponders this, gnawing her lower lip before nodding. “Good plan.”

She rattles off her home address. My mind notes that she resides a few doors down from my childhood best friend, her uncle Gabe. 

“There he is.” She slouches down in the backseat as I turn to look.

“Isn’t that your dad?” I can’t stop myself from asking as I see Gabe’s brother Trent step out of the café with a white paper bag in his hand.

“Yes. Follow him.” She whispers as if he might hear her.

“Alright.” I watch until he turns the corner and follow carefully, trying to keep distance between myself and my target.

After a few turns, he turns around and steps into the street. I slide into a nearby driveway and look toward the front of the house to give the appearance of waiting for a fare.

“What are you doing? You’re going to lose him.” The girl hisses from the floor behind me.

“I doubt that.” I reply as I turn my head just enough to see Trent headed toward the taxi.

He motions for me to roll down the window and I do so reluctantly.

“Lars, man, did you need something?” He calls.

“Just waiting for a passenger,” I feign nonchalance.

“Looks like you have one.” He grins and opens the back door, “Myra, what are you up to now?”

“I’m not Myra.” She asserts boldly.

I peer over the seat to see her hiding her face behind her backpack, which has her name emblazoned on it in glittery letters.

“I think he’s got you there, girl. Best fess up.” I counsel.

“I just wanted to know where you go before you come home?”

“Oh you do, do you?” Trent smiles and holds out his hand. “Then you should come with me.”

She takes his hand and scoots out of the backseat.

“We will get you some answers after you pay Lars for his trouble.” He pauses. “And tip well.”

I tell her how much she owes. She dutifully peels off a few bills to pay the fare and couple extra for me. 

“Hey, Trent, what if I want to know the answer to the mystery?” I call out before he can close the door.

“Cover your ears, honey.” He tells Myra.

“But, dad.”

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” 

She frowns but covers her ears.

Trent leans over to whisper to me, “Gabe and I have been working on a dollhouse for her. We’re almost finished.”

“So what’s in the bag?” I ask.

“Energy from the best donuts in the county."

I nod understanding and Trent taps Myra on the shoulder to get her attention.

She takes her dad’s hand, peeking curiously at the paper bag. I watch them amble down the street a few seconds before backing out of the driveway and heading back to my own house in anticipation of my next call to action.

~~~

Hope this Friday finds you all well. I also hope it brightens your day and fills you with hope. The world is still filled with good. Go be that good...

World's Shortest Keynote [FICTION]

Greetings, graduates of 2020.

Despite the gravity of these times, we want to send you off with a feeling of weightlessness and a desire to reach beyond the stars you can see.

You have proven yourselves to be more than just dreamers. You are workers. You are doers. You are bound to succeed if you hold onto your resolve and keep pursuing what you love. Your presence in this world will improve it.

Don’t let your education end here. You are graduating into a higher form of learning. Wherever you go and whatever you do, let life continue to teach you. Keep studying the world around you. Make contacts with others who share your passion, whether in your field or in other realms. Don’t be too proud to learn something new from every experience.

I know you have masks to make and shows to binge-watch, so I won’t keep you long, but I want you to remember that graduating from college means you have set an accomplished a goal. Set and accomplish many more. Never stop being the best you that you can be.

And, in conclusion, remember that when celebrating promotions and other major life events, burning couches is frowned upon.

My prompt encouraged me to write a keynote speech for graduates of my college.

I figured it couldn't hurt.

And that wisdom dictate that I keep it short unless I wanted to bore my audience.

Keep learning, my friends.

Back to College [FICTION]

“We haven’t been back since we graduated.” Penny wheedles.

“That’s ten whole years,” Janine drags out each syllable as she leans into me.

I sigh.

“She’s right, Erica.” Penny says. “And you are getting married next month, so we won’t have this chance again.”

“Fine.” I say. “Count me in.”

“We’ll pick you up Friday, so be ready.” Penny exclaims.

“And bring your dancing shoes.” Janine adds.

“You know I will.” I giggle.

As I slide my phone into my pocket, I open the door to my closet. Tucked among the boxes I packed in anticipation of my wedding, I locate one marked “old shoes”. I unfold the flaps and carefully select a slender black box. I peek at the red flats within the smaller box before reseating the lid and placing it on the bed. In a matter of minutes, I have a weekend bag filled with promises of my return to college glory.

~

“Erica!” My friends catcall from Penny’s convertible. “Get in here, girl, so we can part-ay!”

“Woowho!” I squeal, winking at my elderly neighbor as she gapes at me on her way into her house.

“Well, I never.” She quickens her pace and slams the door.

We laugh as the wind blows our hair out behind us.

~

“I can’t believe this place is still open.”

“I can’t believe it still has the same decor.” I add as I peer through the open door at the worn black and red linoleum leading up to round bar stools wrapped in red leather.

“So what are we going to sing?” I ask as I flip through the options offered for the brave patrons of Care-2-Okay karaoke bar.

“‘Rolling In the Deep’ was my favorite song that year.” Janine offers excitedly

“And none of us can sing like Adele.” I shudder at the thought.

“True, and Erica was pretty fond of ‘Dancing on My Own,’” Penny suggests.

“Only because John broke up with me to date my roommate, so it was safer to dance alone,” I mumble.

“I guess that leaves us with our anthem…” Janelle holds up the book and points.

“Always  choose Pink.” Penny and I agree.

We nurse our drinks, trying to keep our throats capable of producing any semblance of harmony. Finally, our names are called.

“…and they will grace us with their rendition of ‘Raise Your Glass.’”

The bar erupts with commotion as people raise their glasses, some in both hands. We giggle and nervously take the stage, clutching each others hands nervously as we lean into he microphone and watch the screen. We start off shakily, but after the first verse, we either warm up or the piddly amount of liquor in our systems inspires courage and convinces us we don’t sound like wounded animals.

As if he has been summoned, my ex John walks through the door as we belt out, “Party crasher.”

I stop singing with my mouth wide open, but my friends address “panty snatcher” to John with great pride, both waving happily at him with their free hands as he glances toward the stage and realizes who we are. Their other hands hold mine more tightly, keeping me from fleeing the stage.

His face goes white before flushing brilliant scarlet, but he doesn’t turn toward the door. Instead he steps up the bar, ordering a straight vodka. He sips on it as we finish our song and step down from the stage to half-hearted applause. My loss of enthusiasm apparently spread to our audience. The next act brought their own following, so the cheering reaches new heights as they step onto the stage.

My friends steer me away from the bar. They are both offering what I assume are words of encouragement or sage advice since I can’t make out a single syllable. They don’t release my hands no matter how hard I try to shake them off. As the crowd closes in around us, they press their shoulders to mine and steer me toward the door. As we step out onto the street, I can finally hear them.

“Apparently, everyone wanted to celebrate ten years of real life by looking back at college.” Janelle says.

“Sorry.” Penny lets go of my hand to wrap me in a warm hug.

“Me, too.” John’s voice chases us out the door.

 

Penny growls. Janine mumbles something before rounding on him.

“You will be if you don’t back off.”

“Now now, Jan,” he holds up his hand.

“Never call me Jan,” she releases my hand to push him backward.

He steps away, but looks at me imploringly. “I just want to talk to Erica.”

“I don’t need to talk to you.” I tell him, squaring my shoulders as I finally free my other hand from Penny.

“But I…”

“…need to leave, so I can enjoy my weekend with my friends.”

“I heard you are getting married, and…” he begins.

“If anything besides, I wanted to say congratulations,’ comes out of you mouth…” Janine steps into his space again.

He glances at me and then back to her. He nods. “Of course, that is all I wanted to say.”

She steps back and he turns to go, but he mouths, “Call me.”

I shake my head, scowling at him.

“Janine, you are fierce,” Penny pats her on the back, “and, you, Erica, need to raise another glass.”

“You’re not wrong,” I reply.

With one more glance to make sure John’s back is still receding down the street, we step back into the bar to give our anthem another shot.

Graduations are happening in unprecedented ways these days, so why not write a story about looking back to the glory days prior to graduation? Hope you enjoyed this week's offering. Also want to send out congratulations to all the graduates from kindergarten up to PhD. May we all remain healthy and happy while we wait to see each other IRL again.

Reunion [FICTION]

Not poetry. Sorry. I still hope it brightens your Friday. 

“Grr. Why did I bring this thing upstairs?” I ask my pillow as I pull it over my head

The thick packet of cotton fails to drown out the danceable beat of the ringtone I assigned to my best friend Anna. The song finally stops. I let the pillow slip from my ears only to grumble as the song resumes. This time I grudgingly place the phone to my ear.

“Susie, get up. We need you.”

“But…”

“You can’t say no. You are the only person who can help us.”

“I’m sleeping.” I groan.

“Not anymore. Don’t make me tell Jessie to tap the horn.”

“You’re outside?” I squeak, sitting up abruptly.

“Yes, and if you aren’t with us in two minutes…” She pauses for emphasis.

“Coming.” I mumble as I step out of bed and find the nearest discarded clothes.

As I stumble out my front door with my shirt half unbuttoned, I can discern Jessie’s silhouette in the driver’s seat of her compact car. One hand hovers over the steering wheel. I shake my head, hobbling toward them with one sandal sliding off my foot. Jessie’s teeth gleam in the glow of the streetlight as she smiles and lowers her hand.

Anna throws open the passenger door and rushes toward me. “Hurry. Hurry. You aren’t going to believe this.”

I choke on my reply as she pulls me toward the car. She shoves me into the backseat. “Let’s ride.” She giggles as Jessie slams on the gas and the car careens down the street, barely missing my neighbor’s overflowing trash bin.

“What did you do?” I ask as she slows down enough for me to catch my breath and gather the cotton balls dancing around inside my head.

“You won’t believe it if you don’t see it.” Anna assures me.

We ride in silence. I begin to zone out until I realize the road we are on leads to our high school. “Where are we going?” I ask under my breath.

Jessie hears and gestures out the window. “You can’t guess?”

“The school? You know they don’t keep our files there, right?”

My friends laugh.

“Guys?” Impatience floods that single word.

Jessie turns the wheel wildly to the left and I exclaim in surprise.

“Our spot.” I gasp as the car cuts through a barely visible path through dried grasses that brush the sides of the car.

“You know it.” Anna holds up one hand.

I reflexively give her high five. The car jerks to a stop, spotlighting a familiar figure.

“Is that…?”

“Mrs. Wimple’s cat.” Anna does a victory dance.

“But that was…”

“On her front lawn.” Jessie finishes.

“And it must weigh…”

“A lot. Want to try to lift it?” Anna asks.

“No. Why did you…”

“Because we could,” Jessie bites her lip.

“But…” I begin

“Now we need a voice of reason.” Anna jumps from the car, flipping the seat forward and leaning toward me. ‘We need you.”

“Too late reason.” I shrug as I step toward the life size mountain lion.

“Go ahead. Pet it.” Jessie cackles.

“I am only touching it to put it back in your car and return it to where it belongs.”

“We don’t want to do that.” Anna whines.

“But you should.”

“She has to know it is gone by now…” Jessie offers.

“Then you two will apologize to her.”

They both begin arguing with me. I can’t pick out any words from the chaos. When their arguments taper off, I cross my arms and steel my voice.

“Help me get the cat back in the car.”

They grumble and grudgingly help me. Silence envelopes the car as we pull out of the weeds. Jessie clenches the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white, but she stays under the speed limit. As Mrs. Wimple’s house comes into view, I gasp.

“Did she win the lottery?” I gape at the immaculate lawn and pristine paint job revealed by artfully placed exterior lighting.

“Nope…” Jessie giggles. “She and her husband both retired.”

“And this is how they keep from killing each other.” Anna adds.

“Do you think they are still up at this hour?” I feel my eyes straining to widen beyond physical possibility as I survey the darkened windows upstairs and a soft glow of light flowing out of two of the windows on the first floor.

“Definitely.” Jessie points to the porch.

Two slender figures step away from the door to be silhouetted against the picture window to the right of it. They lean on each other as they watch our headlights slowly approaching. Jessie slams on the brake. My head slams into the headrest.

“Why are you trying to break my face?” I mumble.

“They saw us.” She hisses.

“Then get out and say you are sorry.” I wiggle my nose and gently touch it with my finger to make sure it isn’t broken.

“Uh-uh.” She shakes her head and looks at Anna.

Anna hops out the car and puts the seat down. “You’re up.”

“But…” She grabs my arms and drags me from the car before my argument forms completely.

The figures on the porch part. I can almost make out the whispered words as Mrs. Wimple steps to the top step. She peers out at us as Jessie pops the trunk. I take a deep breath, but can’t find words.

“Susie Lynch, is that you?” Mrs. Wimple slowly descends to the stone path.

“Yes, ma’am.” I reply, feeling my shoulders straightening, as I retreat slowly toward the trunk of the car.

“Did you find it?” She asks.

“Umm…” I look to my friends for support.

They shrug and lower their heads as Mrs. Wimple’s sharp eyes takes them in, “Jessie Burton and Anna Franklin, what a nice surprise. My husband told me posting to the Internet would have quick results, but it has only been a few hours.”

She joins me at the back of the car, where her concrete cat is nestled among some old bags and blankets. She pats its stone head. “I will tell Mr. Wimple to get his checkbook.”

“Umm…what?” My sleepy mind can’t following this turn of events.

“For the reward.” She says.

“We don’t need a reward.” A light comes on for me and I offer her a guilty smile. “Just knowing this guy is back home is enough reward.” I glare at my friends, who continue to cower inside the car.

“You were always such a good girl.” She smiles and I can tell from the way she glances at my friends that she is cutting back commentary on my ironic choice of friends.

“I’ll just get the girls to help me put him back where he goes.” I glance around the yard, easily finding the place where he belongs. The bare spot in the grass remains exactly where I remembered it from a few midnight acts of teenage terror involving eggs and toilet paper.

I wave for my friends to join at the trunk. They reluctantly get out of the car, shuffling towards me with their eyes downcast.

“Mrs. Wimple is grateful we found her stone cat so quickly,” I reassure them, staring daggers into each of them in case they miss the import of my words. “I told her we would put it back for her.”

“Of course,” they answer brightly as relief infuses both of their faces.

Mrs. Wimple chats brightly as we place the cat back in its proper place. She informs us that the stone monolith represents her college mascot. We grunt noncommittally as we heft the cat into place. Finally, we stand up and dust our hands on our jeans.

“Thank you, girls.” Mrs. Wimple smiles at us. “I am so glad you were able to find him and bring him back.” She gently strokes its stony brow.

Jessie and Anna nod and mumble, “You’re welcome,” before scuttling back into the car.

Mrs. Wimple takes my hand in hers. “I can’t wait to see what you do with your life. You are a force for good even with those who seem hopeless.” She winks at me and looks at my friends through the window, offering them a finger wave.