"Who knows what was incorrectly stated about Mosart's wedding?" asked the lecturer. He stood at the front of the gathering space, near where the two large spaces met at a right angle.
"Ummm...the reasons for the marriage," answered Jack.
"Was Mosart a good husband?"
"Eh, he did okay," offered Jack, shrugging noncommittaly. The lecturer began to discuss Mosart's poor treatment of his wife
A while later, the reception began. Jack made his way from group to group, attempting to make small talk. While he stood near one such group, a friendly-looking man with a round frame approached.
"Nice to see you," he said.
"Likewise, Carl," replied Jack. A moment of silence passed before Carl shot Jack a significant look.
"You know, we were all expecting you to do an interview," he said with a gentle but accusing tone.
"What? No, no, I never said that!" Jack said indignantly. He'd been afraid this would come up, and he'd been preparing to quickly defend his position.
"Yes, we were expecting it. Kelly was really looking forward to it."
"Well, she shouldn't have been, I never said I would do it!" Jack struggled to keep his voice low. Carl's face hardened a bit as he made a skeptical noise.
"It would have been really good publicity for her," he insisted.
"I never said I would! God's honest truth, I never said it!" Carl simply stared at Jack.
"Carl, listen, why wouldn't I want to interview Kelly?"
"Well, she can be a little...excited...and tend to go on," admitted Carl.
"Uh huh, uh huh," continued Jack aggressively, "but don't you think I'd rather interview her, as a wedding present? Rather than getting her a $300 dollar gift?"
Carl paused and thought. He and Jack walked slowly away from the circle to another corner of the room.
"Yeah...I suppose..." Carl said uncertainly.
"Of course I would've! And how much was your gift, Carl? Fifty dollars?" sneered Jack.
"Yeah..."
"Pfff!!!!" Jack scoffed as he walked away in disgust.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Racial Heritage
"I'm Canadian," Jack explained to the girls sitting at the table in the bar.
"Oh, you're from Canada?" one asked.
"Well, no..." Jack struggled to think of how he was Canadian. Maybe his mother had a brother who had moved to Canada? As he thought, he looked at a colorful, decorative fish moving across some grooves near the ceiling.
"Hmmm..." he said. "I guess I don't really know what I meant by that."
"Oh, you're from Canada?" one asked.
"Well, no..." Jack struggled to think of how he was Canadian. Maybe his mother had a brother who had moved to Canada? As he thought, he looked at a colorful, decorative fish moving across some grooves near the ceiling.
"Hmmm..." he said. "I guess I don't really know what I meant by that."
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Gift Keys
Jack sat in a small desk. The classroom was full of young students. One of Jack's, a friendly and sociable ten-year-old girl, approached on Jack's right side.
"I want you to have these," she said excitedly. "This one's my old key."
"Oh, thanks," said Jack apprehensively as he accepted a single key attached to a coiled, plastic lanyard.
"And these," she continued, holding up a jangling keyring, "are for my dog. This one is to let him out, this one is covering, you know, for organics?"
"Uh, no..." said Jack.
"If the dog needs protection, to stay organic. Like a barrier," she explained.
"Oh."
"And this one is to let him back in," she said enthusiastically.
"You had to keep a set of these with your teacher?" asked Jack in confusion.
"Of course. And these are also for the dog..." She continued listing the purpose of each key.
"Are you sure you don't want these?" Jack interrupted.
"Yeah, take them." She happily thrust the ring into Jack's hands.
"Thanks," he offered as she walked back to her seat. He looped the single key around the scroll of his violin, knocking it lightly against the wood.
"Shhhh," said the woman who sat across from him. Jack knew that the presentation was about to began. He turned awkwardly around in his seat to face the front corner of the classroom. A very old woman was sitting there, holding a bass viol da gamba.
"Now, everyone!" she said in a loud voice. "This is a viol. How many of you have played a viol before?" Jack timidly raised his hand.
Acknowledging him with a triumphant point, she said, "Garder, yes, thank you!"
"I want you to have these," she said excitedly. "This one's my old key."
"Oh, thanks," said Jack apprehensively as he accepted a single key attached to a coiled, plastic lanyard.
"And these," she continued, holding up a jangling keyring, "are for my dog. This one is to let him out, this one is covering, you know, for organics?"
"Uh, no..." said Jack.
"If the dog needs protection, to stay organic. Like a barrier," she explained.
"Oh."
"And this one is to let him back in," she said enthusiastically.
"You had to keep a set of these with your teacher?" asked Jack in confusion.
"Of course. And these are also for the dog..." She continued listing the purpose of each key.
"Are you sure you don't want these?" Jack interrupted.
"Yeah, take them." She happily thrust the ring into Jack's hands.
"Thanks," he offered as she walked back to her seat. He looped the single key around the scroll of his violin, knocking it lightly against the wood.
"Shhhh," said the woman who sat across from him. Jack knew that the presentation was about to began. He turned awkwardly around in his seat to face the front corner of the classroom. A very old woman was sitting there, holding a bass viol da gamba.
"Now, everyone!" she said in a loud voice. "This is a viol. How many of you have played a viol before?" Jack timidly raised his hand.
Acknowledging him with a triumphant point, she said, "Garder, yes, thank you!"
Monday, December 13, 2010
Pole Stock
There, in the shallow tide of the beach, stood a pole, seemingly several hundred feet high. Extending from the top of the pole was a long, taut rope, and at the end of this rope was a lithe woman. She swung around and around the pole, like a human tether ball, somehow managing to convert the movements of her body into massive boosts of momentum. Shooting out from the bottom of each arc, she would ascended high up into the air and hang for a moment on the opposite side of the pole, only to plummet down and repeat the process. Again and again she made fantastically effortless loops with varying degrees of steepness, all the while singing show tunes, to the delight of the crowd assembled below. Eventually she took a break.
Sensing only a vague connection to the athletic movements of the female swinger, Jack wandered into a somewhat decrepit movie store adjacent to the beach. He was looking at a fantasy movie with a recognizable actor on the cover when a young man approached.
"Is this 'The English...'?" he asked.
"No," said Jack.
Jack became increasingly uncomfortable as the young man continued to talk to Jack. Glancing around awkwardly, he noticed the rope from the pole leading into the bathroom in the back of the store.
Suddenly, her act began again. Since she was starting from the ground, she volunteered her husband to act as a counter balance. She handed him a second rope, and together they swung back and forth, higher and higher, until the woman had regained her former speed and altitude. Her husband, having played his role, fell with a splash into the water below. The woman made a joke, and the audience laughed appreciatively.
The day was late, the town and waterfront was abandoned. Jack again went into the shop, this time heading into the back to get in line for the bathroom. The man in front of him noticed a urinal standing just outside the door.
"Hey, well..." he said. Jack nodded in assent, and the man stood in front of the urinal. Sidestepping the man, he himself went through the door.
Inside there was a short hallway, first opening to the right into a broad, tiled room full of chairs and tables before terminating at the portal to yet another tiled room. A few people milled about.
"What are you looking for?" asked an officious looking woman.
"Uh, tomatoes, I guess."
"Ok, for a recipe, or something else?"
"Yeah..." replied Jack uncertainly. He could feel the conversation going in the wrong direction.
"Well, we've got a lot of good pie material..."
"Uh, can't I come in?" interrupted Jack.
"Oh, sure," said the woman.
Jack walked past the woman and toward the doorway to the next tiled room. There was a small lip on the floor at the threshold, and Jack looked beyond the couple standing there into the next room. It was large, theater-like space, complete with a sloping floor and a large white screen on the opposite wall. All the surfaces were tiled, and the room was bereft of furnishings except a cashier stand and a ledge down at the bottom of the slope. The floor was covered by patches of ice and looked very slippery.
"Be careful," warned the cashier, noticing Jack's gaze. "I've had people slip before."
"You ever think of getting floor mats?" Jack responded. The cashier flashed a snarky expression.
"Don't worry, I'm very steady," assured Jack. With that, he stepped over the lip and walked down the slope to the ledge. Here, too, people stood wandered about, examining the inventory.
At first, Jack was surprised at how little was for sale, but only for the few moments before he actually inspected the produce. There was an amazing variety of organic fruits and vegetables that Jack had never seen or heard about. He walked slowly past strange, pale eggplants and paused at a magnificent, iridescent blue plum. Briefly noticing a pile of normal tomatoes, he leaned down to pick up a small, fuzzy blue fruit. The sign next to it read "Snow Tomato, $1.29 ea." Jack thought this was a very reasonable price. He picked out one of the fruits, put it in a bag along with several of the regular tomatoes and walked back to the cashier.
"I'd like to buy these," he said.
Sensing only a vague connection to the athletic movements of the female swinger, Jack wandered into a somewhat decrepit movie store adjacent to the beach. He was looking at a fantasy movie with a recognizable actor on the cover when a young man approached.
"Is this 'The English...'?" he asked.
"No," said Jack.
Jack became increasingly uncomfortable as the young man continued to talk to Jack. Glancing around awkwardly, he noticed the rope from the pole leading into the bathroom in the back of the store.
Suddenly, her act began again. Since she was starting from the ground, she volunteered her husband to act as a counter balance. She handed him a second rope, and together they swung back and forth, higher and higher, until the woman had regained her former speed and altitude. Her husband, having played his role, fell with a splash into the water below. The woman made a joke, and the audience laughed appreciatively.
The day was late, the town and waterfront was abandoned. Jack again went into the shop, this time heading into the back to get in line for the bathroom. The man in front of him noticed a urinal standing just outside the door.
"Hey, well..." he said. Jack nodded in assent, and the man stood in front of the urinal. Sidestepping the man, he himself went through the door.
Inside there was a short hallway, first opening to the right into a broad, tiled room full of chairs and tables before terminating at the portal to yet another tiled room. A few people milled about.
"What are you looking for?" asked an officious looking woman.
"Uh, tomatoes, I guess."
"Ok, for a recipe, or something else?"
"Yeah..." replied Jack uncertainly. He could feel the conversation going in the wrong direction.
"Well, we've got a lot of good pie material..."
"Uh, can't I come in?" interrupted Jack.
"Oh, sure," said the woman.
Jack walked past the woman and toward the doorway to the next tiled room. There was a small lip on the floor at the threshold, and Jack looked beyond the couple standing there into the next room. It was large, theater-like space, complete with a sloping floor and a large white screen on the opposite wall. All the surfaces were tiled, and the room was bereft of furnishings except a cashier stand and a ledge down at the bottom of the slope. The floor was covered by patches of ice and looked very slippery.
"Be careful," warned the cashier, noticing Jack's gaze. "I've had people slip before."
"You ever think of getting floor mats?" Jack responded. The cashier flashed a snarky expression.
"Don't worry, I'm very steady," assured Jack. With that, he stepped over the lip and walked down the slope to the ledge. Here, too, people stood wandered about, examining the inventory.
At first, Jack was surprised at how little was for sale, but only for the few moments before he actually inspected the produce. There was an amazing variety of organic fruits and vegetables that Jack had never seen or heard about. He walked slowly past strange, pale eggplants and paused at a magnificent, iridescent blue plum. Briefly noticing a pile of normal tomatoes, he leaned down to pick up a small, fuzzy blue fruit. The sign next to it read "Snow Tomato, $1.29 ea." Jack thought this was a very reasonable price. He picked out one of the fruits, put it in a bag along with several of the regular tomatoes and walked back to the cashier.
"I'd like to buy these," he said.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Unsavory Lasses
"Come out of there," demanded Jack.
"No, they'll be right back," replied Petunia hopefully.
"Come out now, this is creepy." Jack hefted his mandolin from side to side, intending to use it as a weapon if need be. Petunia sat on the edge of their tub, staring straight ahead into a dark and empty stall. Beyond the bathroom threshold, the buzz of conversation indicated that the extended family gathering was proceeding smoothly.
"They'll take me into the wall. It's kinda cool," said Petunia, not without some excitement.
Eventually, Jack persuaded his sister to return to the living room. Crying could be heard downstairs.
"Jack, go check on Dustin," someone said. Jack and Petunia hurried to the basement find out what was troubling their twelve-year-old cousin.
As he rounded the corner, Jack saw a teenage girl through the glass door leading to the lower section of deck in the backyard. She was skulking around, holding a book in her arms. Jack approached and pounded on the window, causing the girl to saunter off into the relative darkness.
Dustin cowered under the covers of his bed, crying. Beside him, a young girl lay motionless, also tucked underneath the covers but offering no comment.
"But why do I have to go back? Tell me, why?" sobbed Dustin. Petunia hauled the girl roughly out of the bed and dragged her back upstairs. Jack gently lifted Dustin out of the bed, set him on his feet and hugged him.
"Hi, Dustin," said Jack cheerily.
"Hi," Dustin replied timidly, wiping his running nose.
"Do you know who I am? I'm your cousin, Jack."
Dustin nodded shyly. "Um," he said, "can you, um, blow on my nose? So, so that..."
After a time, the child left and Petunia returned. "Where'd they go?" asked Jack.
"Family conference," she replied. Jack wondered how Dustin's parents were going to deal with these troubling events. He knew the strange girls were malicious, and Dustin was too young to understand their motives. As he pondered, he noticed a strange, fabric figurine.
"Is this Dustin?" he asked.
"Yes," Petunia whispered quietly, "this is Dustin's doll." A spaniel wandered into the room, but looked different as it left.
"Did that dog change color?" asked Jack.
Jack wandered out into the yard. He wore no shirt, but was unaffected by the cold climate. The girls had somehow found a way into the house, and he intended to figure out how. He smiled as he noticed the garden in progress, probably his father's doing. The entire yard seemed to be undergoing some massive construction project. Piles of dirt and exposed pipes littered the yard, and much of the house's concrete foundation was visible. Beyond the backyard, a small avenue extended in both directions along a close-knit collection of houses and storefronts.
Four houses down the road, the flashing red and blue of police lights was visible. Jack could barely make out the figures leaving the house in handcuffs, but he could tell that the malicious girls were being arrested. He communicated this to Petunia when she happened by. He was glad they had been caught.
He watched the neighbors argue about something as their dogs walked around. Then he went over to the opposite side of the house and found a giant, open section of PVC pipe that fed directly into the utility room. He figured that this was the way the girls had gotten in. Out of curiosity, he crawled into the pipe toward the sink at the other end. His progress was quickly halted when his eyes closed involuntarily and he felt very tired and disoriented, like gravity had been reversed. He sat for a time, not knowing what to do. Eventually he was able to back out of the pipe and return to the yard.
"No, they'll be right back," replied Petunia hopefully.
"Come out now, this is creepy." Jack hefted his mandolin from side to side, intending to use it as a weapon if need be. Petunia sat on the edge of their tub, staring straight ahead into a dark and empty stall. Beyond the bathroom threshold, the buzz of conversation indicated that the extended family gathering was proceeding smoothly.
"They'll take me into the wall. It's kinda cool," said Petunia, not without some excitement.
Eventually, Jack persuaded his sister to return to the living room. Crying could be heard downstairs.
"Jack, go check on Dustin," someone said. Jack and Petunia hurried to the basement find out what was troubling their twelve-year-old cousin.
As he rounded the corner, Jack saw a teenage girl through the glass door leading to the lower section of deck in the backyard. She was skulking around, holding a book in her arms. Jack approached and pounded on the window, causing the girl to saunter off into the relative darkness.
Dustin cowered under the covers of his bed, crying. Beside him, a young girl lay motionless, also tucked underneath the covers but offering no comment.
"But why do I have to go back? Tell me, why?" sobbed Dustin. Petunia hauled the girl roughly out of the bed and dragged her back upstairs. Jack gently lifted Dustin out of the bed, set him on his feet and hugged him.
"Hi, Dustin," said Jack cheerily.
"Hi," Dustin replied timidly, wiping his running nose.
"Do you know who I am? I'm your cousin, Jack."
Dustin nodded shyly. "Um," he said, "can you, um, blow on my nose? So, so that..."
After a time, the child left and Petunia returned. "Where'd they go?" asked Jack.
"Family conference," she replied. Jack wondered how Dustin's parents were going to deal with these troubling events. He knew the strange girls were malicious, and Dustin was too young to understand their motives. As he pondered, he noticed a strange, fabric figurine.
"Is this Dustin?" he asked.
"Yes," Petunia whispered quietly, "this is Dustin's doll." A spaniel wandered into the room, but looked different as it left.
"Did that dog change color?" asked Jack.
Jack wandered out into the yard. He wore no shirt, but was unaffected by the cold climate. The girls had somehow found a way into the house, and he intended to figure out how. He smiled as he noticed the garden in progress, probably his father's doing. The entire yard seemed to be undergoing some massive construction project. Piles of dirt and exposed pipes littered the yard, and much of the house's concrete foundation was visible. Beyond the backyard, a small avenue extended in both directions along a close-knit collection of houses and storefronts.
Four houses down the road, the flashing red and blue of police lights was visible. Jack could barely make out the figures leaving the house in handcuffs, but he could tell that the malicious girls were being arrested. He communicated this to Petunia when she happened by. He was glad they had been caught.
He watched the neighbors argue about something as their dogs walked around. Then he went over to the opposite side of the house and found a giant, open section of PVC pipe that fed directly into the utility room. He figured that this was the way the girls had gotten in. Out of curiosity, he crawled into the pipe toward the sink at the other end. His progress was quickly halted when his eyes closed involuntarily and he felt very tired and disoriented, like gravity had been reversed. He sat for a time, not knowing what to do. Eventually he was able to back out of the pipe and return to the yard.
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