Story-a-day - Day Twenty Eight

This post is part of a series of short stories and poems.

Day Twenty Eight

I’m regretting that run

For I know it was one

That I should not have taken so far

And when given the choice

I will raise up my voice

And say thanks I am taking my car

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Seven

This post is part of a series of short stories and poems.

Day Twenty Seven

There once was a young girl named Lily

She liked to wear things that were frilly

She danced and she drew

Preferred flip-flop to shoe

And objected when Mom called her silly

There once was a young girl named Rosy

Loved to snuggle up all warm and cozy

Her objective was fun

Her laugh second to none

But her sister would say that she’s nosy

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Six

This post is part of a series of short stories and poems.

Day Twenty Six

Renata Billingston was going on her first cruise. She believed that true happiness lay behind the doors of that ship. She’d dreamed of going on one since she was a teenager and finally she was getting her chance. She’d worked double shifts at J-Mart for months to pay for this expenditure and cajoled her friend LeAnn (from J-Mart) into going with her. It was kind of a birthday present to herself, she told people, since she was turning 30 this month. She and LeAnn had shopped for cruise outfits together and were both hoping to catch the eye of some eligible suitors while aboard. They got their nails done ahead of time, LeAnn’s with dolphins, Renata’s with life preservers. LeAnn got a perm and Renata got her hair frosted. They packed a lot of perfume and a lot of hairspray and they were ready to party!

They stood in line at the bottom of the ramp and gazed up at the enormous vessel. It was impressive by anyone’s standards. Both girls were giddy with excitement. The line started to move. They dug out their tickets and turned toward the door. LeAnn looked around, ‘’aren’t there an awful lot of old folks here?’’ Renata turned and looked, ‘’of course there will be old folks, there are people of all ages.’’ ‘’Yeah, but I don’t see any other ages.’’ Both girls scoured the crowd. They were the youngest ones there by far. ‘’Ummm,’’ LeAnn said loudly. Renata got frantic. It was true. There couldn’t have been a single person there under 60. Or 70. ‘’Where on earth did you book this thing?’’ LeAnn asked. ‘’I just searched cheap cruises and this one came up.’’ ‘’Didn’t you read the fine print? No, wait. Didn’t you read the extra-large print? Surely it was written there somewhere.’’ ‘’Maybe we can still get our money back,’’ said Renata. ‘’No way. These things are always no-refund.’’ The girls shuffled up the ramp towards the door. When they reached the front, a chipper old man reached for their tickets. ‘’Welcome aboard The Old Grey Wave. Say, aren’t you two a bit young for this one?’’ ‘’Um. Yes,’’ LeAnn said curtly. ‘’Well, never mind. As long as you can cut a proper rug, we’ll keep ya.’’ LeAnn scoffed. ‘’Just don’t be surprised if ya can’t keep up with us,’’ he beamed. Full-on denture grin. Renata laughed nervously. ‘’Well come along now, lots of folks behind you.’’ The girls checked their room number and looked around for signs. ‘’This way,’’ Renata pointed. LeAnn grumbled behind her. They got on an elevator and LeAnn exhaled with great annoyance. ‘’Look, can we agree to just try and make the best of it?’’ Renata pleaded. ‘’Easy for you to say, it was your mistake.’’ ‘’Yes, I know, but…’’ she trailed off. The doors opened with a quiet ding and LeAnn rushed out and stormed down the long hall to their room. They started fiddling with the key and after several tries the door opened with a young man standing in the doorway. ‘’What the?’’ asked Renata. ‘’Wrong room,’’ he stated. Both girls got starry-eyed. ‘’Hello,’’ LeAnn said with a very sudden change of mood. He took her ticket. ‘’Let’s see, 32D is down the hall on the right. This is 32E.’’ ‘’Oh thank you,’’ Renata exaggerated. He just nodded and closed the door. They hurried inside their room, not even noticing how tiny it was. LeAnn flopped down on a bed. ‘’Someone’s mood has improved.’’ LeAnn smiled a devilish grin. ‘’Let’s go get something to eat,’’ she said. ‘’Ok,’’ said Renata, ’’let’s freshen up first.’’ ‘’Of course!’’ And just like that, the girls were back in their pre-party, dress-for-success, teased bangs and lungs-full of Aquanet giddy mood.

They headed down to the dining area, or to be more accurate, the feeding trough. Rows and rows and rows and rows of food. All for the taking. Fried everything. And a serve-yourself ice cream machine. Or twelve. The girls took a plate and piled it high. They both secretly scanned the room for the young man. ‘’May we sit here?’’ asked a smiley couple. LeAnn looked at Renata. ‘’Why sure you can,’’ said Renata. ‘’I’m Fred, and this is my wife Barbara.’’ ‘’Nice to meet you,’’ said Renata. ‘’Well, you girls are awfully young for this kind of get-up, are you not?’’ ‘’That’s what they keep telling us,’’ LeAnn said through gritted teeth. ‘’Nice to have a little youth around for a change, though. Gets a little depressing bein’ around all these old folks all the time.’’ ‘’Ohhh, I don’t know. Is it really that bad?’’ Renata asked, eyeing LeAnn. ‘’At least the food’s good,’’ Barbara smiled, with impossibly tiny portions spread out all over her plate. ‘’I don’t know who they think they’re feeding here, but we don’t eat much.’’ Renata looked down at her glut-fest. ‘’Yeah.’’ ‘’Do you ladies want to play some shuffleboard later?’’ Fred asked. ‘’Sounds tempting, Fred, but we’re gonna work on our tan,’’ LeAnn cut in. ‘’Well all right, then. We’ll be on the upper deck after dinner if you change your minds.’’ ‘’Thanks,’’ Renata smiled. LeAnn plowed through her plate. ‘’We’re gonna go get a drink, see ya,’’ she told Fred and Barbara. ‘’Oh. Ok,’’ Renata stood up. LeAnn pulled her arm.’’ ‘’See you around,’’ Renata told them. ‘’You girls enjoy yourselves,’’ Barbara called. ‘’That’s what it’s all about,’’ LeAnn sing-songed.

The girls sidled up to the bar. ‘’A rum and Diet Coke, please,’’ Renata told the bartender. ‘’And you, ma’am?’’ ‘’I’ll have a screwdriver.’’ LeAnn whispered to Renata, ‘’ma’am? How old does this guy think I am?’’ ‘’Never mind him,’’ Renata reassured. LeAnn swung around in her stool and faced outward. She crossed her legs. ‘’Ohhh,’’ she groaned disappointedly, again at the realization of the age bracket. Renata sipped from her tiny straw. ‘’Let’s go get some sun.’’ ‘’Already?’’ Renata asked, ‘’I just got my drink.’’ ‘’Well, hurry up!’’ The girls pounded their drinks and went back to their room. They changed into their bathing suits and headed to the upper deck. They found some free chairs and lay down their towels. ‘’Yoooo hooooo!’’ Both girls sat up and looked. It was Barbara. ‘’Girrrrls! Do you want to join us for shuffleboard?’’ ‘’Oh good night!’’ LeAnn grumbled, ‘’I’m going back to the room to sleep.’’ ‘’Ok,’’ Renata conceded, ‘’I’ll see you later.’’ She walked over to Fred and Barbara and asked them to teach her the rules. They played for a while and she was really enjoying herself. ‘’Do you guys go on cruises often?’’ she asked. ‘’Oh yes, quite often. Our son works on the ship as a plumber, so he gets us great deals!’’ She laughed. ‘’That’s great! So the job has its perks!’’ ‘’Yes!’’ they agreed. ‘’In fact,’’ Fred paused, looking in the distance, ‘’here he comes now!’’ Renata turned and peered down the deck. ‘’32D?’’ she asked, in disbelief. ‘’Why, yes! How did you know?’’ ‘’We ran into him earlier.’’ ‘’Tony, this is Renata, but I guess you’ve already met.’’ ‘’Oh, yes, haha, nice to meet you,’’ he shook her hand. ‘’Care to join us for some shuffleboard?’’ ‘’But I don’t  have a partner,’’ he protested. ‘’Renata, would you do him the honor?’’ She blushed. ‘’Why, sure.’’   

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Five

This post is part of a series of short stories and poems.

Day Twenty Five

John and Bobby, Erik and Sherman stumbled their way to the entrance with a whole lot of you-go-first,-no-you-go-first finger pushes. They were a pale lot, which was only exaggerated by the fact that they all wore all black. All the time. Skinny, too. Except for Sherman who, beyond all explanation, was of average build, depending on who you’re averaging, of course. However, for all the body mass he had going for him, he more than evened the score with the lack of pigment in his skin. You guessed it, Sherman was a redhead. You thought John, Bobby and Erik were white until you stood them next to Sherman, who made their whiteness almost look khaki. So, these four friends decided one day to leave their video game lair and do something death-defying. I don’t know, maybe all their princess rescuing and end-boss defeating bolstered their courage, or maybe all those hours of games messed with their heads, but whatever the reason, they decided to go to the swimming pool. The outdoor swimming pool. When they finally made their way to the desk, they realized it was a pretty girl taking money. Really pretty. ‘’Four today?’’ she asked. ‘’Uh, four p.m.?’’ John squeaked. ‘’What? N..no, I mean are there four of you?’’ ‘’Oh, yes,’’ he said self-consciously. ‘’Eight dollars.’’ The boys bumbled with their money a while, trying to make everyone’s come out even before Bobby finally just said ‘’here,’’ and handed her a ten. ‘’Here you are,’’ she said and pulled out a big stamp. She took each of their hands and stamped them with a big blue wave, definitely the closest any of them had ever been to a person of the female persuasion, at least a female of her caliber. She gave them directions about using the lockers and showering and sent them on their awkward little way. They must have been 25 minutes in the locker room before emerging out into the pool area, in all their glory. Erik, despite being the skinniest of the bunch, managed to look the most normal. Or the least abnormal, if you will. And despite the fact that they were cinched to the nines and hanging on for dear life, his swim trunks were well within the acceptable realm. Bobby, however, chose to swim in near-pants. I can’t even call them shorts. They were longs.  Long, black, short-pants with pockets. John actually swam in a t-shirt. And Sherman. Sherman inexplicably took the Speed-o route. The only piece in his wardrobe that was not black. And not only not black, but pink. The friends moved as one unit. Clutching their towels and trying not to be seen. It wasn’t working. They were seen. Oh, they were seen, all right. Dropped jaws, sunglasses pushed down noses, the whole bit. So, they laid their towels out in the far corner of the pool area. By the deep end. They cocooned themselves in sunscreen, SPF 80, and then made their way to the edge. Bobby sat down and slipped into the pool, now with a 40-pound weight hanging from his waist. John had a black cotton bubble billowing and suctioning to him. But it was Sherman who took the proverbial cake. In keeping with his theme of questionable choices, he decided to jump off the high-dive. But not just jump off the high-dive. Take a running leap off the high-dive. In a pink Speed-o. In blinding white skin. And in the last split-second before he jumped, he saw that the lifeguard now on duty was the pretty girl from the entrance and he just flailed, and landed as flat as a pancake, belly-flop style, on top of the water, creating the loudest skin clap you have ever heard. His head also smacked the water, leaving him disoriented, so the girl dove in immediately. With strength and grace she pulled him to the edge, where the other lifeguard helped her pull him out of the water. She asked him some questions to make sure he was all right, while his counterparts stood around him. Satisfied he was fine, she returned to her post, and they to their towels. There were jokes about CPR and the princess rescuing Luigi and after a couple of hours of uneventful swimming, the boys went home. On the doorstep of Erik’s house, he turned to them, ‘’Zelda?’’ he asked. ‘’Zelda,’’ they confirmed in unison.    

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Four

This post is part of a series of short stories and poems.

Day Twenty Four

When life gets you down and you’re feeling

As blue as the ink on your shirt

Just look at the carrot you’re peeling

That just had his face in the dirt

You don’t hear him whining, now do you?

Not even when losing his skin

He lays in a pile and asks with a smile

Which soup you are putting him in

I know it’s a little unnerving

That’s absurd, I hear some of you say

But if you will follow my point to the end

It might change your blue-feeling day

So why is it carrots? You ask me

I am not a vegetable, right?

Just repeat that aloud

When you’re in your dark cloud

And everything will look more bright.

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Three

This post is part of a series of short stories.

Day Twenty Three

And I lay down in the field of daisies and looked up at the sky and it was not lost on me that the moment was magical. The clouds were scoops of whipped cream, but the real stuff, not the kind that comes in a plastic carton, that is to say they were a little sharp and jagged on the edges, not smooth and cloud-y like the whipped cream that comes in a carton. And they moved fast. My favorite pace for clouds to move across the sky. The air was a little cool but the sun was warm, like cocoa in a cold metal thermos. I was in love. In love with the world. I could not conjure up a thought of a better place on this earth at that moment. A hawk flew across my viewfinder and bees buzzed in the daisies all around me. Trees swayed and perfume wafted. Mother nature’s perfume. I turned my head to one side and squinted, peering into the micro world of bugs under the flowers. And I wondered. I wondered at the bigness of it all. The bigness of the smallness. And I thought about that mysterious world at the bottom of the ocean that we have only just begun to discover. And who can know the mysteries of these insects, these bees, those clouds above me? And I closed my eyes and fell asleep. Just for a moment. And in my mind was a dance, a royal ball of old, with ladies and suitors and dresses and wigs. What a strange thing to dream in this moment. And I stood up and brushed myself off and walked back to my car and returned to work. 

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Two

This post is part of a series of short stories.

Day Twenty Two

There once was a shirt who lay on a stack

He wished he was green or yellow or black

But he lay there just waiting, he knew that he knew

That his boy liked orange 'bout as much as the flu

Still, he straightened himself and he stuck out his chest

Hoping somehow to stand out among all the rest

But his boy came and went, after taking a green

Even though it was stained, and he was all clean.

So what could he think? When day after day

His boy would choose others to go out and play

So the next day he said I am not going to hope

I am not going to look like a fool or a dope

So he lay back and put his sleeves under his collar

(If you guess what happens I’ll give you a dollar)

And he took a deep breath, exhaled, closed his eyes

Then his boy grabbed him out, much to his great surprise

And he held him out straight, and what did he say?

With a smile in his eyes, he said It’s picture day!