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Bud Grossmann’s
Words of the Week
for the Week of
June 22, 2014
Previously unpublished fiction.
© 2014 by Bud Grossmann.
All Rights Reserved.
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Worry-Free Lilies, 2014
© 2014 by Bud Grossmann
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SATURDAY!
10:05AM
Good morning, Debbie! I’m late with my howdy rounds because my Uncle Arthur got misplaced. Dad and Art are going to Herb Norton’s funeral in Ninian, and Dad, trying before 8AM, couldn’t reach Art or Barry at home, or by cell phone, or at Glaxco. Nor could I, at any of those numbers, and I called Alyssa in Mukwonago, but she had not heard from them. So I set out, about 8:20AM, in my automobile. Dropped off the Netflix god-awful Non-Stop disk at the post office and found nothing in my P.O. Box, although Butterfly & Diving Bell is due to arrive today, and drove up to Hometown Café, across from which was parked a Malibu like Art’s and inside of which were only three clusters of customers, one cluster of which was the Happs boys, who all three told me Art usually arrives on foot and had not yet been seen but was expected “right about now.” I drove to Barry’s house and found the garage door open, one stall empty, but Art’s gold Malibu in the other, and found Art in the house, well and good, dressing for Hometown Café, by which I mean, in shirt and ancient blue jeans, white socks and round-toed thrift-store work boots. I could not get a decent Verizon signal, so I used Barry’s land line to call Dad at the farm. I gave the phone to Art, and he asked Dad if he knew Herb Norton had died. Dad told him he did know it, and he would pick up Art at ten a.m. Then I called Barry at Glaxco. Barry doesn’t have “included” long distance on his home phone, so I asked him to call Alyssa from his cell or work phone to let her know I’d found their dad. I said I would call Alyssa in a little while to double-check that he had reached her. Uncle Art wanted to discuss Clarissa and common sense, but I suggested he go to the Hometown Café and return home by ten, and so he left in his Malibu. I saw on my phone that I had three bars of service where I stood beside my Subaru outside the northeast corner of Barry’s garage, so I planted my feet in one spot on the driveway and tried calling Alyssa, but, as I suspected and later confirmed, she was still on the phone with Barry, so I called Lloyd’s cell. He didn’t pick up; I left an All Is Well voicemail. When I hung up, I already had a voicemail back from Lloyd, so I called again. Lloyd had not picked up my voicemail. I asked if he was with Alyssa, and he said he was. I told him All Is Well, and we discussed Uncle Art’s undoubtedly diminished memory and his evidently diminished driving skills. I drove to Celeste’s house to borrow outdated eggs for an apple-rhubarb cake I plan to bake. At 9:35AM, heading home, I decided to go to the post office to see if Butterfly & Diving Bell was by then in the box, but I saw Art’s Malibu parked on High Street around the corner from The Hometown, so I went in to see if he was headed back home, and, yes, he was, he was paying his bill and chatting with the waitress at the cash register. Pete Happs was also ready to pay a bill. I told Pete I know exactly where I have two magazines I borrowed from him in 2007 and asked if he would like a ride to my house. He said, No, he would walk, and I said I’d walk with him and would leave my car downtown. So that’s what we did, but when we returned to my car, I wrapped a U-turn right there beside Lucy’s Loose Ends Hair Salon and went home and sat down to write a howdy note to you and only then realized I don’t know if The Butterfly & the Diving Bell is waiting for me at the post office or not.
To make a long story short, well, Deb, to make a long story short, I probably would have to be a different person.
Love, Dave
11:05AM
♦
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This page was updated Sun, Jun 22, 2014, 12:36AM CDT.
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© 2014 by Bud Grossmann
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