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The Old Man © By Vincent T. LaQuire
I saw a funny old man…when I was alone, A real silly old coot…while I was at home!
He looked quite familiar…or at least I thought so, But with my memory fading…I’d have to say no!
He stood there all-naked…as the day he was born, And most of his parts looked all ragged and worn!
His muscles had drooped, and shoulders were stooped, And the best I could tell…the old codger was pooped!
His wrinkles had wrinkles…from what I could see, And his weenie was shriveled…that he used to pee!
Some time had gone by…since it had been long, For old age had crept in…and shortened his dong!
And all he could do…was to hope and to pray, That somehow he’d manage to roll in the hay!
Yet, somehow he knew that his hopes were quite dim, That his chances were naught, and nothing but slim!
For just like his body, and the wink in his eye, There was nothing to do…but have a good cry!
And so he just stood there…and looked at his face, That had weathered the years, with sadness and grace!
And then he did smile…a slyly wicked old grin, And gladly I state…twas was the best part of him!
His reason to smile…he’d took a long shower, And pruned up his skin…for more than an hour!
His appearance now dreadful…a truly pitiful thing, And he’d proven though echoes that he couldn’t sing!
And as the bathroom fog lifted…I plainly could see, The old coot in the mirror…was none other than me!
Tags: poem, humor
Swan Song © By Vincent T. LaQuire
Tell the truth you’ve thought of it, Your death!
In fact you’ve thought of more than You want!
You’ve even dreamt of it and been Somewhat haunted?
In the dark reaches of your mind You de-exist!
In the calmness of your empty soul You desire!
Death the unwelcome guest that brings True happiness!
And so you live on only in memory At Peace!
You know not nor care not to care Of life!
And so your life is over and done Big deal!
Be remembered be forgotten it is Your choice!
Scream to heavens unlistened alas Without voice! Your death will pass as days of old Untouched alone!
For in your death you go beyond to a Land unknown!
And to this land you finally belong Unfettered Gone!
Tags: haiku, writing
Pattycake © By Vincent T. LaQuire
Suddenly the dog lunged at the dumpster. It frantically jumped up and down, pushing the lid open a bit with its nose…and growling all the while it did it.
The stranger then spoke up in a very thick and raspy voice and said, “Settle down Rufus…easy boy…you’re scaring the nice Lady!†seeing the look of terror on Pattycake’s face.
But Rufus didn’t settle down…in fact the dog got more riled and started barking louder, excitedly, frantically…and inbetween his growls he popped the lid open a few inches…only to have it drop down again as he lunged up and down, with its leash flapping wildly about.
Then the unexpected happened. The dog jumped up once again…but this time he managed to move the lid up about four inches. A “Pssszt†came from within the dumpster, before a yellow and tan feral cat jumped out of it towards where Pattycake was standing.
The dog quickly sprung after it…knocking Pattycake to the ground. He weighed a good one hundred and twenty pounds, and did it effortlessly.
Pattycake hit her head on the edge of the dumpster and lost consciousness almost immediately. Although threw the haze before she did, Pattycake thought she saw the stranger rushing at her.
She didn’t know how long she’d been out. But she did feel sore, and her mind was fuzzy as yet. Her muscles had started to stiffen up from lying on the ground. Pattycake could only surmise that she had been unconscious quite a while.
Her mind drifted back to the last thing she remembered and that was the stranger rushing at her. Panic set in as she imagined the worst…He had robbed her?
She quickly sat up, as quickly as she could, that is. Pattycake checked her pockets. Her money was gone. She started to cry, thinking various thoughts…No money…only twelve cans to show for the day…no coffee tomorrow! Pattycake felt as if the weight of the world had tumbled down on her.
Suddenly, her mind cleared a bit and Pattycake remembered, she had moved her money to her boot, back at the restroom at the Ponderosa…for safekeeping.
Pattycake quickly checked it, and sighed, “Thank God!†as she felt the bill. Her spirits returned immediately—her luck was holding.
Pattycake rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up…slowly. Her head throbbed and her fingers were a little stiff. Not to mention the crick in her back. But she did have her money and that made her smile. Pattycake was truly happy, in spite of the aches and pains.
Behind her she heard the voice of the raspy speaking stranger again. It was calling to her, “Hey Lady, you okay?†adding, “I’m sorry about Rufus…he’s a handful…he got away from me when he smelled that cat in the dumpster! If I hadn’t been carrying my son’s baseball bat I could have managed him better,†then added, smiling, “Sorry I had to leave you here alone! I gave my cell phone to my son earlier, after his little league game, and I had to find one. I called for an ambulance. They should be here any time now.†“Ambulance!†Pattycake moaned, “I ain’t got no money for no ambulance Mister! And I ain’t got no insurance either,†she blurted, expecting him to ask if she did; before adding, “Hell, Mister I ain’t even got a job to be able pay the damned hospital bill. I live in a cardboard box.â€
“Don’t you fret the bills, Lady…I’ll pay for everything,†the stranger started, “By the way what is your name? I can’t keep calling you Lady can I?†but before Pattycake could answer he said, “By the way mine’s Jennings…Michael Jennings. You can call me Mike…I own the Ponderosa franchise here in town.â€
“My name is Patricia,†she hesitated; not giving him her last name, “But my friends call me Pattycake,†she smiled, rubbing the back of her head, “And I just came from the Ponderosa. I had a voucher from the Rescue Mission. It was great!â€
“Glad you liked it! Say, Pattycake…if I can call you that…would you like a job?†Mike asked.
“You joking…um…Mike?†she sighed, I’m fifty-five and homeless…and even though I’ve tried…No one will hire me.â€
“Well I’m serious…we’ve got a few positions open,†Mike smiled asking, “You got any experience in restaurant work?
“Only washing dishes…but that was a long time ago,†she told him.
“Well…today must be your lucky day…we got two opening as dishwashers. One on days, and one on the evening shift,†Mike replied.
The words ‘lucky day’ resonated in her mind as she offered, “I got a friend Mooch...her real name is Marion that could use a job too!†thinking, “Pugsley needs it…but couldn’t do it because of his hands all crippled with arthritis…and Jack has that damn dry skin disease the free clinic is treating him for. No sense pushing my luck asking for them too. Besides us Gals gotta stick together!â€
“Well Marion is welcome to come in with you!†Mike assured, seeing Pattycake smile in response to his offer to hire Mooch too.
The alleyway suddenly lit up with flashing lights as an ambulance came down it. Pattycake frowned at it.
Mike, seeing this, said, “Don’t you worry! I’ll take are of the bills. You go with them and get checked out…and you come to the restaurant when you can. I’ll tell the manager you’ll be coming in.â€
Pattycake told him, “I wasn’t worried about the bills…I’m worried about the Me-Haul…my cart…everything I own is in it.â€
Mike gave her a deep look of concern; and replied, “Don’t fret about your cart, Pattycake…I’ll store it in my garage,†then he added, handing her his business card…after he had hastily jotted his home address down on it, “And we’ll have to find you a place to live too,†further stating, “Oh, and don’t you fret about the rent. I’ll take care of that too, till you get on your feet.â€
Pattycake was speechless. This was just too much for her to take in. She was glad the ambulance attendants had her lie down on the stretcher, as her legs had started to tremble and buckle. She couldn’t believe her luck.
With the attendant taking her blood pressure, Pattycake wondered what tomorrow held, as the ambulance drove away. She thought how for every bad thing that had happened to her…something good came out of it. And she thought how each bad thing had been worse than the one before, and that the good things after them had been even better.
Pattycake wondered what more could happen to her and what wondrous things would come of them. She thought about what Mooch would say…and smiled when she thought that Mooch had borrowed some of her luck after all.
Pattycake then thought maybe—just maybe, someday, Mooch would have her own luck and pay her back. And the thought of Mooch paying back anything made her smile. And then she wondered if her luck would last.
But Pattycake didn’t care! For she would worry about tomorrow when it got here…after all today was her lucky day! The end
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
Pattycake © By Vincent T. LaQuire
Due to a number of our volunteers being out sick with the flu and depleted pantry supplies, we will only be able to serve one meal tomorrow. As usual it will be on a first come—first serve basis—until gone—starting at 2 p.m. Thank you, Edmund Bright, Rescue Mission Coordinator.
Pattycake was downcast, after she read the message reposted on the front door to the Mission. Especially when she saw that ‘tomorrow’ had been scratched out and ‘today’ had been put above it; and she further saw a long line of people were standing in front waiting to get in…and it already reached around the corner.
But Pattycake brightened when she remembered the twenty dollar bill in her pocket, thinking and mumbling under her breath, “Hell, I can eat in a restaurant if I want!’ before, she cautioned herself, “Wait a minute Pattycake…you can’t go just throwing that money away…be patient…you’ve waited in line before…okay they won’t have a dinner meal today…but if you stuff yourself…you’ll make it till tomorrow morning.â€
She walked around the corner, clutching the twenty-dollar bill in her pocket tightly; spying a few of her shabbily dressed friends waiting in line.
“Hey…Pugsley…Mooch…Jack!†she called to them, “What’s on the menu today!â€
Pugsley, a man nearly sixty; being short and stocky, yelled back, “Chicken bone soup with fresh three-day-old bread!â€
His real name was Clarence and would get belligerent if you called him that…so everyone called him Pugsley after the kid on the Adamm’s Family that he resembled. He liked that better.
Also answering was Marion, a tall thin woman with no teeth and blonde hair that they called Mooch…for her habit of always borrowing. She called out, “And a Parson’s nose!†laughing, after she said it.
Then Jack, a portly lad of twenty with a stuttering problem, added; smiling as if there was no tomorrow, “An...An...And that’s for d…des…sert P…P…Patty…ca…cake!â€
“Thanks…†Pattycake joked back, “Sounds mighty tasty!†thinking back and fondly remembering her Dad had told her that the Parson’s nose is the last thing to cross over the fence when the chicken flew over it.
She got in line four people behind her friends, at the very end of the line. The trio of friends then stepped out of line and got back in behind her.
Pattycake smiled and said, “You guys really think they’ll have any Parson’s noses left when you get your turn now? These four good-looking fellers in front of me could get the last of them. You read the notice didn’t you?â€
“Well you could too!†Mooch retorted, “What good-looking fellers are you talking about Pattycake…I only see Rescue Mission refugees and hanger-on-ers like us…kinda poor at that.â€
Mooch thought she heard the four in front of Pattycake mumble back at her various forms of, ‘Speak for yourself toothless…who you talking about…and…shut your trap bitch!’ before she said to Pattycake, “See what I mean…these winners…could get your dinner!â€
“Not today…not today!†she boasted, “Today my luck has changed!â€
“Really?†asked Pugsley, “Do tell us why!†his interest perked by her confidence.
“Y…Yeah…P…P…Patty…ca…cake…t…tell us,†fumbled Jack.
Over the next few moments she relayed the events of her day so far, as the line they were in shortened and moved slowly around the corner. Pattycake thought it best not to tell them about the twenty dollars the driver had given her, and instead put emphasis on how the driver had single handedly lifted her cart off the road.
By the time she had told the events of the day, and the four of them had bantered back and forth a while, the line had shortened to six. And before long they were all standing on the Mission steps. It looked like they would soon be eating when Mr. Bright appeared at the door. His expression wasn’t very promising.
“Sorry folks...†he said sternly, “Only enough for two more,†as he tapped the two just ahead of Pattycake on their shoulders.
Pattycake couldn’t believe it…she thought for sure her luck had changed. She shrugged her shoulders as if to resign herself to the fact that it had ended.
“Well okay then,†she thought, “I’ll just have to spend that twenty after all,†and turning to her friends she said, “If you had stayed in line you’d have your bellies full. It’s my fault, so it’s only right if…â€
Suddenly Mr. Bright returned, smiling, and interrupted Pattycake saying, “I’ve got good news folks. When she found out we were going to be four meals short my wife Nadine got on the horn. And Nadine got the main office to agree to pay for four buffet diners down the road at the Ponderosa Restaurant. All you need do is go there and give them this,†he smiled again, handing them each a slip of paper with a Rescue Mission logo and his signature on them.
“Oh…MY…God!†cried Pugsley, slowly, “That place is all you can eat!â€
“Holy ma…ma…mackerel,†cried Jack, “We…we…we get t...t...to eat t…to…night!â€
Mooch just looked at Pattycake and said, “Your luck sure has changed girl. Mind if I stick with you a while?â€
Pattycake could only smile at first in reply…she was too busy thinking how it was all too good to be true. Her luck was still holding. But it was beginning to feel like it was the lull before the storm.
Then Pattycake turned and said, Why Mooch…you want to borrow some?†smiling she added, “Well if you do…you’d better do it quick…before it’s all gone.â€
She had been around long enough to know life only picks you up so your fall will be that much farther. Pattycake reasoned there would be an end to it, and all too soon.
The walk to the Ponderosa was a joyous event. The quartet chatted, joked, and exchanged friendly jabs at one another the whole way there. The manager at the Ponderosa accepted their vouchers without so much as a “How did you get these?â€
The meal was fantastic…even without the steak that a regular meal came with…the buffet was filled with lots of good things to eat.
Pugsley and Jack made hogs of themselves, wolfing down everything; before going back for seconds, thirds, and finally fourths…that they finally couldn’t finish; and feeling like they would explode if they had one more thing.
Mooch on the other hand ate slowly and deliberately…her lack of teeth had resigned her to the mashed potatoes and softer foods only.
Pattycake reveled in the glory of her luck and ate two servings of meatballs along with several different salads from the buffet table. The chocolate ice cream with the chocolate sauce she had for dessert made the meal perfect in her estimation.
She hadn’t had ice cream in as long as she had gone without orange juice. At least Pattycake couldn’t remember the last time she had the extra money to spend lavishly to buy a cone, or a sundae like she had just made herself.
The quartet of friends left the Ponderosa swaggering from the meal; with each going their own way. And with Pattycake taking what she thought to be a shortcut back to her cardboard shelter.
The alley she decided to pass thru was dark, except for the opening on the other end of it; as the building there were tall enough to block out the sunlight—unless it was directly overhead. But there was enough light to see that halfway in it was a large dark blue dumpster, with a gray lid.
She hedged her way slowly down the alley…letting her eyes become accustomed to the light there. Pattycake just missed stepping in a big puddle…but not before the Me-Haul’s wheels splashed thru it. From within the dumpster she thought she heard a wail of some sort.
This made her curious, and she decided to investigate what had made the noise. Pattycake started to raise the lid to check inside, when she heard a growl behind her.
Pattycake jumped in surprise to see a massively huge black and tan Rottweiler growling in lows tones six feet away. The dog’s head was hunched over and its butt end was high in the air…its short tail was making a slow tic-toc movement, as if interested…but not overly excited. It looked ready to pounce at any moment.
Pattycake was terrified, and quickly maneuvered the Me-Haul, in such a way, as to have it between her and the dog. It wasn’t a perfect arrangement…but she felt a little safer. And in the excitement of the moment she forgot all about her knife.
She silently wished she would of gone home another way, as she didn’t see how she’d ever get out of the alley unscathed. Pattycake felt as if the good luck she been having had finally run out; especially when she saw a shadowy figure of a man walk into the alley behind the dog with what appeared to be a baseball bat in his hands. But in the alley light it was hard to tell for sure.
Pattycake had heard about a stranger that was new in the area who was going around mugging and roughing people up. Mooch had been one of his victims…it was how she lost the last of her teeth.
Her only option she thought was to make a run for it. She’d come back and get the Me-Haul later. But Pattycake thought better of that when the dog moved ahead suddenly and blocked her exit.
To be continued…
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
Pattycake © By Vincent T. LaQuire
“Patty!†he said, “I don’t know how to tell you this…but Mike told me to bring you this,†handing her a bag.
She could smell a wondrous odor erupting from it. Pattycake quickly opened it and looked inside. The aroma became more intense as she lifted a wrapped Egg McMuffin from the bag.
She then beamed; asking, “Are you sure he said to give this to me?â€
Eddie answered, “Yes!†then, “I don’t know why either…maybe cause it’s raining…maybe cause he took the trash out early…maybe his heart got as big as the Grinch’s did…who knows? All I know is he handed me this bag and said to give it to you. It’s free…he said you could have an orange juice too...if you want!â€
“Orange juice…†her eyes misted over, “Oh yes, Eddie…please.â€
“I’ll be right back,†he replied and turned away.
“Eddie…†Pattycake called after him, “Please tell Mike thanks for me!â€
“Sure thing Patty…I’ll be glad to!†Eddie responded.
Moments later Pattycake was in heaven. She hadn’t had orange juice in several years. She’d had oranges…but most of them were a little dried or green with mold from their time in the trash. But even the moldy ones…though they were sometimes tart from acidity gave her the vitamin c she needed in her diet.
But to top off everything her food had been warm…and there had been a hash brown potato in the bag as well. The last made her break down and cry; thinking that maybe…just maybe her luck was changing at last.
She finished the paper and every bite of her food before leaving Micky-D’s with a free refill on her coffee. She was content in the knowledge that she was full for the first time in a long time. She felt wonderful.
Pattycake then headed for the newsstand on the corner, where she perused the headlines on the papers and mags on the back wall. She did that before looking in the wire mesh trashcan next to the newsstand.
She found two empty coke cans in it, and thought to herself, “Only twenty-three more to go!â€
“Slim pickens today Pattycake,†said Tom Colbert the newsstand owner—pointing to the soda machine halfway down the block in front of Mulgrave’s Pharmacy, “The rain has everybody staying home. It’s all I can do to keep my papers and mags dry.â€
Pattycake nodded, looking at the clear bags on top of some of Tom’s papers; seeing them blow up. If not for the weights he had on top of them they would have blown away. The ones in the rack on the back wall of the stand were the only ones safe from the wind and rain. These were the same ones she looked at before she collected her cans.
When Pattycake started off down the street, Tom called after her, “See you tomorrow, Pattycake!â€
She didn’t hear him. She was too busy adjusting the ties she had tied to hold down the plastic tarp that covered her goods. Just as a sudden gust of wind had threatened to break the tarp loose and allow her goods to fall prey to the weather.
Once secure again…she headed for the next trashcan on her route. By almost noon she was half drenched and becoming very tired when the rain stopped. This only allowed her to be happy the rain had stopped, as her collections were really very poor. For after nearly five and a half hours she had only found only twelve…less than half of what she needed for tomorrow.
Even the sun coming out failed to cheer her. She knew her chances were not good she would find anymore. The best spots had already been searched.
Her mind was busy thinking and distracted when she started across the street. The Me-Haul got stuck momentarily in a pothole, until she gave it a hard shove. But this momentary lapse had allowed a truck to almost run her down.
The driver had been talking on his cellphone and had failed to see Pattycake until it was almost too late. Still he caught the front edge of the Me-Haul and knocked it over before screeching to a halt.
The driver rushed over to Pattycake with a look of horror in his eyes apologizing profusely, “Gee lady I’m sorry…I didn’t see you,†adding nervously, “Are you alright?â€
“Yes!†Pattycake replied, a little disheveled, “Just help me get my cart up off the street…will you?â€
“Sure…sure thing lady,†the driver said as he lifted the cart upright single handedly.
Pattycake smiled; replying, “Wow…you’re a strong one!â€
“Lady, I could lift my truck right now…I got so much adrenalin flowing through me right now…really…I swear I could!†the driver retorted, asking again, “Are you sure you’re alright?â€
“Yes…†Pattycake answered, before noticing her can bag was missing and crying, “Oh no my cans!â€
“Hold on,†said the driver, “I think I see them!†walking a few yards down the street,†then blurting out, “Here you go lady,†as he handed Pattycake the can bag.
“Thanks!†Pattycake responded, “It took me most of the day so far to find them.â€
“Well that stinks!†the driver blurted, studying her bag, “That’s not much to show for a days work,†he continued, “Here…this should help you out a bit,†as he handed her a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, “It’s not much…but it’s all I can spare right now!â€
“I can’t take this Mister!†Pattycake replied—wishing she hadn’t said it.
“No…no…I insist!†the driver coaxed, “It’ll help me feel better about all this…really…take it!â€
“Well…if you insist,†Pattycake smiled, “I’ll take it as a blessing…thank you ever so much. This will allow me the rest of the day off…and a few others as well if I use it right.â€
She ran over and gave the driver a big hug; trying not to blubber, Pattycake whispered in his ear, “Thanks, Mister!â€
The driver replied squeezing her back, “It’s the least I could do.â€
Then as the driver pulled away Pattycake thought to herself, “Wow…my luck really is changing.â€
With no need to collect any more cans, it freed her to head for the soup kitchen run by the Rescue Mission. She would be early for the noon meal for a change; and the thought of being at the start of the line instead of the back brightened her spirits.
But Pattycake found that a line was already forming when she got there. She hadn’t read the bulletin board before she left the Mission the day before. If Pattycake had…she would have seen that there was a hastily composed message posted on it reading:
To be continued…
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
Pattycake © By Vincent T. LaQuire
Pattycake looked out of the makeshift home of cardboard boxes and plastic sheeting at the raindrops splattering in a little puddle outside of it. Her real name was Patricia…Patricia Beth Hogskinner.
Her family name had been given to her Great-Great Grandfather Petra when he had emigrated from Poland to America. The man at the immigration center could not pronounce or spell the name Petra had given him…and when Petra was asked what he did for a living…Petra answered in halting English that he worked on a farm skinning hogs. He became Petra Hogskinner after that.
Her Grandfather Otis gave her nickname to her from the game he always played with her when she was two. All her life Pattycake loved her nickname…but hated her last name wishing the man at emigration had thought to use ‘Farmer’ instead…or just Skinner.
Pattycake was in her mid fifties; her hair that had been light brown had turned gray with streaks of white and sickly yellow. Her teeth matched the latter streaks from years of smoking and having no toothpaste to use…though she did have a well-used toothbrush and tried to keep her teeth clean…and although she had stopped smoking several years back, the stains remained.
She had lived on the streets for the last twenty years or so. It had been right after she lost her job as a dishwasher when the restaurant she worked at burned to the ground. Nobody came right out and said that she had started the fire…but several thought she might have...accidentally or on purpose.
After this she couldn’t find work anywhere. And she fell inbetween the cracks in our society when the Welfare department said she was capable of working…while at the same time she was mostly un-hirable. Pattycake for all intent and purposes had no option but to scrounge a living out of the streets and trash bins.
Those that knew her liked her well enough but they all thought that Pattycake was a few cards short of a full deck. 3 aces, a pair of kings, and a deuce to be exact.
She had become hardened to the life on the street and accepted no bull from anyone. And Pattycake carried a butcher knife to back it up. Even though it had been made short by the all the times it had been sharpened. She had only had to flash it about whenever someone threatened to muscle in on her spot in the very back of the alley—right behind the abandoned and now defunct Crandall’s hardware store.
Pattycake dreaded going out today. The rain would make her life miserable. Though she was dressed in layers of clothing, the big dark gray wool coat she wore would become heavy once the rain started seeping into the fabric of it. The weight of it would drag her down.
The faded brown boots she wore were a bit large and had no laces. They would flop a little when she walked. But she didn’t care…at least they kept her feet warm and most of the time dry.
She would have to wear the triangle scrap of plastic she had made from a shopping bag as a hat. She thought it made her look just horrible…and she had a tendency to sweat whenever she wore it. Pattycake much preferred to wear her straw hat that looked like a sombrero…but if it got wet it would always sag in such a way that the rain would funnel down her back.
The rain started to come down harder as soon as she left her makeshift home. The wind swirled the rain about and washed it over her face, where it clung for a moment before dripping off the end of her nose. This tickled, so she wiped it off with her sleeve.
“Damn,†Pattycake cried, as she noticed her coat was already starting to become drenched, “It’s a lovely day in the neighborhood!†she added sarcastically; thinking, “Just once I wish my luck was better!â€
She grabbed her shopping cart from the side of her home and trudged down the alley towards the main street. The cart was filled with everything she valued…from a bag of collected cans and bottles to a change of clothing. Although it was old and rusty it still maneuvered well. And Pattycake always referred to it as the ‘Me-Haul’ truck.
With the rain coming down harder she walked onto the main street and turned left. She was following her normal routine and headed for Mickey-D’s for her morning coffee. Pattycake also hoped someone had left something half eaten on the top of the trashcan by the door.
It was the first thing she checked when she got there, after checking to see who was working. This morning she smiled when she saw Eddie was on and not Estelle. Estelle always yelled at her to stay out of the trash.
Eddie spotted Pattycake flipping open the lid on the trashcan and yelled to her, “Sorry Patty,†he never called her Pattycake; thinking Cake was her last name, and not knowing any better after hearing someone call her Pattycake only once, “Mike just emptied all the bins. That lazy no good night manager failed to have them emptied last night. Mike is steaming mad…because he had to do them this morning. Two people called in sick.â€
Mike was the day manager. He was another person that Pattycake was happy not to see. He had never swore at her…but he had been very rude when he had more or less let her know that she was welcome only as a paying customer…and though she always paid for her coffee in the morning there were times she had sought out shelter from the rain or the snow when they got it.
“Thanks, Eddie…†Pattycake yelled back, “I’ll just have my coffee as usual,†thinking to herself, “Now I’m going to hungry as well as be wet today!â€
“Okay Patty,†Eddie answered as her poured Pattycake a large coffee; then added once done, “That’ll be $1.28!â€
Pattycake gave him a startled look, replying, “$1.28!â€
“Yeah…the price went up this morning†he apologized.
“Holy smokes Eddie…that’s twenty-five cans plus three cents from the need a penny cup at the gas station,†She moaned.
“I know Patty…I’m sorry!†Eddie answered.
Pattycake shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, replying, “Not your fault Eddie…most likely the new gas prices did it…I’ll just have to look a little harder now,†she sighed, adding, “Oh well…at least I’ve got the extra twenty cents today.â€
Pattycake counted out the money on the counter. Then Eddie picked it up and handed her the coffee asking, “You want any cream and sugar with that!†smiling as if it was a joke they had between them.
“Yep…two sugars…no cream!†she answered.
Pattycake took the two small pouches of sugar and walked slowly to the booth furthest from the door in the corner. She grabbed the morning paper off the rack as she passed it. Then she sat, stirred her coffee once she added the sugar; took a sip, and started to read the front page.
This was her breakfast routine most mornings. She would relish this part of the day…especially if Eddie was on. He always made her feel welcome and someone that mattered.
When she got to the local section she looked up to see Eddie standing there. He was smiling from ear to ear.
To be continued…
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
The Nigel Diaries © By Vincent T. LaQuire
I am Nigel Anne Pennyfinger. My sister Rose is the luckiest person in the world. Mumsy said out loud one day to her, after our first visit to the zoo, “Rosie†(another reason she was lucky Mumsy always called her Rose or Rosie, and never some of the pet names she was so good at dispensing out at me…Like Stinkhead or the dreaded Chunkypants) my dear child I’ve decided to shorten up your middle name a bit…from now on it’s the same as your brother Lummox…Anne.â€
When I asked her about it, she said that my Dad didn’t like Rose’s middle name Annec…and said it was not a good name for a girl. So Mumsy dropped the “C†and said her middle name now meant “Another Naughty Nigel Edition†instead of “Another Naughty Nigel Eddinghamp Childâ€. She said something like it meant the same that way.
My Mumsy took us to the zoo one day. She had us pack up everything we had before we went. Stranger yet she said it was because we had to be ready in case ‘that cad of a dad’ ran again.
I loved the zoo, and all the animals. Mumsy took us first thing to the see the Elephants. Seems that’s where my Dad had a job. He was the head of the Dung Disposal Unit at the zoo. Mumsy said it was an important job and she didn’t care how he made his money as long as he gave her some.
I can still remember the look on my Dad’s face when he saw Mumsy and us. He said, “You look very familiar. Have we met before? I really think I’ve seen that tall ugly boy of yours somewhere. Have you been to the zoo often?†and, “My, that’s a beautiful little girl you have in the pram. Would you like to go somewhere and play doctor?â€
Mumsy had been scowling at my Dad from the moment we got there, but the moment Dad mentioned my sister she brightened right up. She said her and my Dad needed to go somewhere private and talk things over. That I was too take Rose for a stroll and look at the monkeys. Dad gave me a big bag of peanuts to throw at them.
The monkeys, at the zoo, fascinated me. They all frolicked around having fun swinging on the big tire dangling from a rope in their cage. All except for the big one over in the corner examining himself and smiling sort of weirdly and making cooing sounds. Mumsy explained to me later when I asked why he was swinging on the big tire too that he was swinging in his mind. Whatever that meant.
The racket the monkeys made was exceeding loud. I thought after about a half an hour after we got to the monkey cage that I heard my Mumsy calling to me. It sounded strangely like…oh doctor…over all the noise of the monkeys.
Mumsy took us home after that, all happy. I guess her and my dad had a good chat. She was in a good mood all day too.
Nine months later my brother Betty was born. Mumsy named him Betty Wepsotoe Pennyfinger. She said it was short for Betty Won’t Ever Pay support On This One Either Pennyfinger. After that, I thought my name wasn’t that bad after all. I did still feel a might bit jealous of Rose, on her having her name shortened and all.
I mentioned it to Mumsy once. She said I could have the ‘C’ she dropped off Rose’s middle name and stick it anywhere I liked. I really couldn’t make it fit right, and only made my name more dreadful than it already was.
I guess I shouldn’t have brought it up as it made Mumsy a bit tiffed after that. She kept mumbling to herself, “That dad of yours…that dad of yours. Last time I play doctor with him. He’s gone from being a gynecologist to a blinking blooming bloody obstetrician.â€
I had some trouble at school the day we got back from the zoo. Two of the bigger boys wanted to pick on me, these were the same two that had taken my fuzzy jam sandwich and given it back. They kept saying they were going to get my nuts. I laughed at them and told them they were too late; that the monkey’s at the zoo already got’m and ate’m; and that I had none left for them to get. They left me alone after that. But would snicker everytime they saw me.
Well like I said my sister Rose was the luckiest person I know. Rose got a pet a few years after Slappy our cat disappeared. She found a baby squirrel out in the yard while playing her favorite game of banging bugs with a spoon. Mumsy adored this, and said that when Rose was all grown up she’d be an expert banger. That she would spoon with the best of them.
Rose called her squirrel “Muff†and would dress it up just like a Barbie doll. The squirrel looked silly in leather though. Mumsy was worried Rose would get hurt, and all scratched up and told her to leave the squirrel’s clothes off. That it was better to play with her ‘Muff’ all naked; and that it was more fun to play with it that way.
And that is where this story ends...until part 6
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
IT PENS! © part 3 By Vincent T. LaQuire
“See those?†he asked shinning at four railroad ties lying across the creek, “They’re from this side of the trestle. Dingle brought them here…there were three more,†he said shining on three empty imprints in the hard clay banks, “Revenuers moved them over there,†he added pointing to the left and down the creek about fifteen yards, where they were stacked like a flat teepee—they were charred from burning and smothered with long grass growing throughout them.
“Imagine the work it took to haul the ties here so he could make a bridge to have a back door out of here to sell his shine?†adding, “Mad Bill Dingle used to operate his still over there,†Rick said flashing his light further down the creek,†informing her, “All that’s left of it is the old mash drum filled with ax holes and the old oak thump barrel by his cabin…but that’s in pieces. And the copper coil must have been confiscated or sold for scrap I imagineâ€
“Dingle?†Sara replied, “That’s the name Ryan said.â€
“Yeah, he probably wanted to bring Emily here,†again flashing his light to a clearing. Where the shadow of a cabin with a porch that had a roof leaning to one side of it.
“It looks spooky,†Sara replied, starring at the mist steam off the cabin roof.
“Nah,†Rick replied, “About the only thing wrong with Dingle’s is the leak in the front porch by the main entrance…and you got to jump down out the back door…the steps there have rotted and ain’t too safe,†smiling, “but inside it’s nice and dry and has a coal stove to keep warm that still works and big straw bed on the floor over in the corner,†boasting, “It’s where us kids can go for a beer party and…umm,†he stalled.
And Sara responded knowingly, “Sex!â€
Even in the moonlight Sara knew Rick was blushing at her reply.
His response to her was, awkwardly, “Well we should get going…wouldn’t want to get you home late and have your dad mad at me.†“No that wouldn’t be good at all,†she responded, containing her laughter.
Trying to defuse the tangle he had gotten himself, he said, “Besides Mad Bill’s ghost might be out haunting tonight.â€
“Ghost!â€
“I’m kidding!†he quickly added; sheepishly grinning, ‘Mad Bill left the area when the Revenuers sent him to prison. He’s probably out set up somewhere else…or dead for all I know…but it’s something the kids always talk about when that damn front porch of his groans in the wind.â€
“I see where a guy could get a hold me close response from that!†with a look that said, “that’ll never work on me…not now!â€
“Seriously,†still trying to defuse his predicament, “I never ever tried that…hell I’m still a vir…†stopping himself, “I never even kissed a girl before!â€
Hardly believing this Sara replied, “Sure!â€
“Honest it took all the nerve I had to hold your hand back there at the fire…†he looked downcast admitting this, adding, “heck the only kiss on the lips I ever got was from my Aunt Becky and she was drunk!â€
Sara giggled at this, “Ohh!â€
Then trying to escape all together he asked, “Shouldn’t we be talking as I take you home?†almost pleading, “But let’s talk about something else…did you like the game?â€
She replied she did and started to talk about the forest and how eerie it was. He would reply with a remark about it until finally the trail ended behind a giant billboard with a lattice bottom of about six feet by twenty-four wide.
The entire sign was twenty-four feet tall including the lattice on the bottom with four spotlights on top spaced evenly pointing to a sign that read ‘Welcome to Walker’s Glen—a housing development named after the man who financed it a Charles E. Walker. The letting on the sign was hunter green outlined in black with a light yellow background.
The sign had a sensor for darkness halfway up it on the front left, and would turn on automatically. The light shone through the lattice casting little square shapes on the ground. And the sign had served for the duel purpose of advertising and covering up the old road through the forest.
Rick almost gave a sigh of relief when he walked Sara up her family driveway. The small entranceway was well lit and the shadow of a woman stood at the door, surrounded by the light behind her. It was obvious she was waiting and looked as if she was checking a watch when she spotted Sara.
“Hi Mom,†she said as she looked to her own watch and saw it reading 9:27. Silently, she sighed, knowing her father would be pleased.
“Time to come in Sara,†came a calm but stern reply from her mother.
“But Dad gave me till ten,†Sara coaxed, but seeing her Mother’s stare she could only muster, “Please mom just ten more minutes…please!â€
“That look and tone won’t work with me Sara…I’m not a pushover like your Dad is.†Mrs. Roberts replied.
“Can I at least say goodnight to Rick,†she asked, and thank him for seeing me home?â€
“Go ahead make it quick!†she answered.
Sara turned to Rick and grabbed his hand stating, “Thanks Rick…I really enjoyed your company,†her heart beating rapidly in her chest hoping he believed her, “I’ll…I’ll see you in school!†then she quickly gave him a peck on the cheek,†and knowing her mother was watching, she let go of his hand, but not before squeezing it softly and rushing past her mother into the house.
Mrs. Roberts turned to Rick and said before closing the door, “Good night. Thank you for seeing Sara home safely.â€
Rick turned and walked slowly down the driveway. His thoughts of Sara rushed about his brain and were distracting him a truck sped over the crest of the hill forty yards down the road from him. It had the driver’s side light out and so he didn’t see it at first. Nor did the driver see him until the last second and slammed on his brakes. Rick hearing the screech of the brakes jumped back quickly and for once was glad his football reflexes were working to form.
Rick walked over to the driver’s window and looked in spotting Ryan behind the wheel. He seemed as flustered as he felt from the near miss.
“Sorry Rick,†came the apology from within, “I had other things on my mind!â€
“You also got a headlight out!†Rick replied. “Crap…that’s all I need!†Ryan downcastly replied, “Nothing is going right for me today…well almost nothing…you saved my butt when you caught that pass…I was nervous as hell when I threw it.â€
“Yeah, you sure weren’t Mr. Bullet tonight bro. I didn’t see a descent spiral from you all night!†Rick described.
“It’s all Emily’s fault…she promised if we won we could go to Dingle’s for…†Ryan started before Rick asked, “Oh I get it now. What happened…did she back out? Was that what you were arguing about?â€
“Not really buddy,†Ryan continued, “She got her period today…and only told me after the game. Shit, I had my heart set on it…and to make things worse I had to buy protection when old lady Jenkins was working down at Rite-Aid. And now I don’t know if she’ll blab to my Ma at church, and if my Ma will tell Emily’s Ma who’ll tell Emily’s Pa about it and then all hell is gonna break loose and I’ll be lucky if I ever get her to dingle’s after that. Let alone, see her againâ€
“It is what it is bro!†Rick consoled, “maybe you’re over thinking this…maybe old bitty Jenkins didn’t notice what you bought…you know how she scans everything so fast she hardly ever looks at what she’s scanning…for all you know she might think she sold you candy.â€
“ Not with my shitty luck Rick!†Ryan said shaking his head.
“Well,†said Rick, opening his denim vest to reveal the sign on his shirt, “like the sign on my shirt says bro…SHIT HAPPENS!â€
Then thinking of how he was denied his first kiss, Rick mumbled, “And indeed it does…indeed it does!â€
The End
Authors Note: I tried to be descriptive enough that you had some memories stirred within you as you got to sense the scenery, emotions, and thoughts of the main characters.
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
IT PENS! © part 2
By Vincent T. LaQuire
Sara was why he had found his way to her at the bonfire and took her hand. He was usually awkward most times around girls; especially pretty ones. But catching the winning touchdown had instilled in him the courage to act and now he was dancing emotionally inside; very glad he had.
Outside in the dark, even in the glow of the fire, she gave the appearance of wearing darker clothes than what she really wore. Here in the gymnasium lights, he could see the dress she wore was pink—and not the maroon the flames betrayed it to be.
Her pumps, which he thought brown outside—were really dark red, and gave two inches to her height, via their thick heals. But what stuck in his mind most was the tight gray sweater her wore that revealed a blossoming young woman beneath it; much to the delight of his hormones.
They lazily strolled out of the building back to the football field; noting a few fellow students and parents still swarming around the refreshment table; that now was a shamble with leftover cups and plate; and a few half eaten donuts and partially sipped glasses of cider. Off in the distance they could see people still standing around the bonfire and thought they heard the school song still being sung but were unsure where they stood.
Off to the right past the bleachers they saw two shapes making their way to the entrance of the Shady Oaks—one male; one female. Rick thought he recognized both of them and urged Sara to go see who it was.
They caught up to discover it was King Ryan and Queen Emily; still wearing their cheap plastic crowns. They were arguing and Emily was crying; stating over and over as she sobbed, “I’m Sorry Ryan…I’ll make it up…honest!â€
Sara, seeing Emily’s distress offered, “Are you alright? Can I help?†Only to get a rude, “Butt out new girl…this is private!†from Emily, before she stormed off.
Rick stared at Ryan before he ran after his Queen, mumbling, “Damn it…no Dingles!â€
Sara over heard Ryan and turned to Rick, with a puzzled look, and got, “Umm…I’ll explain about that later…Okay?†And Rick saw her nod okay in response.
Rick pointed down the hill and said, “Yonder is Shady Oaks.â€
Sara stared off in the moonlight and saw what seemingly was an endless dark forest, as Rick stated, “The path home is right down there…but first,†he started, as he put his backpack down and rummaged in it for two objects—a flashlight and a small jar that he opened and presented to her, “put some of this on, it’ll keep the skeeters away,†adding, “they can be real nasty this time of year.â€
She took the jar and gave it a quick smell and as quickly handed it back. Her look didn’t surprise him; he’d seen it many times.
Don’t worry,†he offered it back, “a little dab is all you need…just put it on the back of your neck…that way you won’t have to smell it,†before warning, “keep it away from your mouth…you’ll be tasting it for days.â€
She took it back with a grimace and he as he asked; then watched him do likewise before returning it to his pack; and shining his flashlight down the path into the woods. One could easily tell it was a former well-traveled road by trucks that was now overgrown with weeds.
The left side was mostly bare; and made so by heavy foot traffic while the rut on the right had bramble and brush mostly covering it. The center was arched and covered in a variety of weeds, thistles, and straw grass. Rick’s flashlight revealed a mist floating up from the night dew that was melting off from the heat of the earth beneath.
In the moonlight Sara could see the path was about five foot wide with various sizes of trees on either side. If it were daylight and because it was early autumn she would of seen some of these trees were dead, others dying; while some were beginning to shed their leave for winter, and some already had.
Their leaves were a plethora of colors: gold, orange, red, yellow, silver toned, brown—some yet green—while others sharing them all. But at night, in the moonlight, they all glistened a silver-gray with gaps between the remaining leaves giving them all odd shapes with stars busting through their gaps.
Rick took Sara’s hand suggesting, “Take a hold of my backpack and follow behind me…there are some pot holes and big rocks along the way.â€
“Can’t I just hold your hand?†She requested.
“Well you could but look down…see the grass…it’s got night dew on it,†warning, “you could get your dress wet.â€
“I don’t care I’d still like to hold your hand,†she pleaded.
“Okay…have it your way…but stay as close to me as you can,†he warned.
The two of them soon found themselves bumping hips, with Sara stumbling every so often into to Rick hard. Her shoes weren’t the best to take a walk in. Occasionally they had to jump over a pothole in the old dirt road filled with water.
The alternative choice was to walk around but that meant risking getting the pesky weed seeds stuck to their clothing. So they jumped. First Rick would jump then he’d would reach back over to her and almost pull or lift her over the puddles. Once she fell into to him so hard that almost sent him backwards to the ground. His hormones were treated to having her breasts press hard against him, when she did.
Then, as if by magic they were coming to a point Rick knew all to well and was grateful for the long grass and weeds of the path had disappeared to become only stubble and hard clay. Rick told her, “Ah Halfway Creek…easy walking from now on Sara.â€
In a way she was relieved, yet hoped he would still hold her hand. Pressing hard against him hadn’t been entirely unintentional.
As they came to the creek Rick shown his flashlight to the right and revealed a slow moving stream that shimmered in the moonlight, revealing a rock sticking up here and there, or a dead limb. Rick pointed up the stream and told her, “About two miles that way is the river that feeds this stream…across the river is an old railroad trestle. I’ve been told it was built by Cornelius Vanderbilt…well his company least wise. The spur has been closed for years now,†offering, “Me and some kids used to go skinny dipping off the trestle…it was a real stomach turner on the way down…we did that most summers till Mike almost drown in the current. That gave us quite a scare…after that we used the swimming pool at the school park.â€
To be continued
Tags: writing, stories, fiction
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