Banana, Anyone Revised

* I noticed I made a number of errors in this one. Busy weekend. I’ve revised a bit so the story makes more sense now, I hope.

Banana, Anyone?

Summer meant outside and brighter, longer days to spend playing with family and friends, every moment expectant with possibility, no teacher telling you every minute of the day what you had to do. Perfect bliss. Oh how Sissy loved summer and its pleasures.

The only threat to summer in her neighborhood was the neighborhood bully who lived at the very end of Burnett Road, right next door to the people with the old, crumbling chicken coop that still showed patterns of blood stains and had a few stray, yellowing chicken feathers still stuck in a crevice of the dilapidated wood. The chicken coop was the second scariest place in the neighborhood. Sissy shivered a bit every time she even thought about it. The scariest place in her neighborhood was Tom Butler’s house, not because it was wasting away from neglect like the chicken coup, but because of what lurked inside and might come roaring out at you at any minute—Tom Butler.

Sissy’s dad had tried to teach her big brother and her not to be afraid of Tom Butler. That house he lived in wasn’t always happy on the inside. This made Tom Butler the holy terror he was on the outside of the house. Dad had explained. Just try to stay away from his house and avoid him on the street—cross to the other side if they saw him walking on the sidewalk, ignore him if he started calling them names, don’t walk down to his house, and never, ever “egg him on.” If he happened to confront them, Sissy and her brother should stand their ground because inside every bully was a coward or someone who needed to be loved. Everybody had a reason that they were the way they were. Both she and her brother Joe tried as hard as they could to follow their dad’s advice. He was smart and had been in the army. So he knew what to do with mean guys.

On one of the long, bright summer days, Sissy was just opening the screen door to outside after going into the kitchen to get a banana to eat while she swung on the swing set Joe had won in a baby contest at her dad’s work picnic about four years ago, when she heard a high-pitched howl, not like a wolf or a stray cat. No, this howl was a person’s, and Sissy recognized its owner immediately—her big brother! He was in trouble somewhere and if he was, Sissy was bound to stop it. Save him! Joe was her best friend. They played Peter Pan and Robin Hood together or King of the Mountain with friends. They read books to each other, and right now, Joe was teaching her how to ride a bike. He stuck up for her all the time. Maybe now was her turn to help him!

Frantically, she scanned the part of the yard she could see from the back steps. No Joe. His reliable maroon bike, “Lucky,” was resting on the retaining wall, so she knew Joe had to be close to home. As fast as she could, Sissy ran to the backyard. No people. Just the swing set and the stack of bricks Dad was going to use to build a garage, someday.

However, when Sissy reached the part of the yard closer to the Taylor’s house the howling grew louder, and she could hear distinctive thumps that reminded her of huge books being slammed shut. Joe was in the side yard and still in trouble. Sissy raced to the side yard faster than Wonder Woman could and there on the ground she saw the most terrible sight! Tom Butler was straddling Joe, had Joe’s arms pinned down uselessly with his knees and pummeled Joe on the side of his face and upper chest with the fury of a dragon. Instantly, Sissy felt a tingling growing inside of her. It was electric and grew from her heart all through her body, filling her up with . . . Could it possibly be the courage her dad was always talking about? Sissy wasn’t sure, but she was certain she had to save Joe from that villain, Tom Butler. No one was going to hurt her big brother when she was around! No one!

She first tried to push Tom Butler off Joe, but she had that banana in her hand, so she couldn’t push very hard. She tried yelling at the bully, so loud her throat felt hot, but it was like he couldn’t hear her. She tried kicking him in the butt, but Tom Butler’s butt was padded with fat and covered with blue jeans, so he couldn’t feel a thing.

Sissy felt about as powerful as a baby bird still stuck in its nest. She was stuck too. And then, for some mysterious reason, Sissy looked at the banana in her right hand. Afterward, she couldn’t tell you how the idea popped into her mind. In an instant it was just there. That tingling, electricity she’d felt turned into lightning bolts and nanoseconds later, she felt her hand smushing that banana as hard as she could into Tom Butler’s right ear. With each turn of the banana, Sissy’s power grew. She felt a snarl forming on her face, and suddenly Tom Butler stop punching Joe. Sissy had a brief moment to feel like the King of the Hill and then Tom Butler hopped of Joe quick as Flash Gordon and was standing, legs apart, fists clenched, leering at Sissy. She froze—helpless, at the mercy of a bully. She had stood her ground. Now what? She felt like someone had turned off the switch to the electricity that had enveloped her a moment ago. Sissy looked at Tom Butler and gulped, readying herself for whatever was next. She felt her brother move beside. Just his warmth calmed her somewhat, but not enough. What would he do to them now?! During those horrifying minutes Sissy’s stomach turned into the mushy banana she was holding.

But Sissy did have another secret power—one she had overlooked, but Tom Butler, maybe her brother, had not. Sissy was a girl! It was a unwritten, but never broken law in their neighborhood that no boy could ever hit or harm a girl, at least not like Tom Butler had been doing to her brother. Instead her villain stood, looking like the Incredible Hulk, and glared at Sissy. Stopped in time. Finally, Tom Butler shrugged his shoulders, said something like, “Dang!” turned and trod off back toward his house.

Sissy and Joe were safe! She felt her big brother put his arm around her shoulder and squeeze. Power, pride surged through Sissy. She had saved her hero—her big brother. Smiling, she looked down at her right hand and saw the fruit still clutched there, “Want some banana?” she asked Joe. Though they knew that Tom Butler would return someday, neither one of them could stop their laughter.

About Everything

The old, mauve, overstuffed wing back was the perfect place for cuddling. Jenny and James had first bought it for reading, and it had been perfect for that, too, but they didn’t know when they picked it out forty years ago that it would also be the ultimate chair for cuddling grandchildren. But it was. For some reason an adult and child nestled comfortably together, cocooned there. Jenny had used it with all her grandchildren. She loved the way she could nestle her cheek in their hair and breathe in their youth. She loved when the child in her lap would bend his or her head up to her and smile. Each one had his or her own personality and to Jenny that most clearly shown through when they smiled. Each child’s smile was a bit different: cocked, a grin, crooked, wide or tiny and with each child’s smile she could also see the teeth, again filled with personality—some straight and long like James, some with a gap like her brother Tom, some crooked, some whiter than others. The smile also shown in each child’s beautiful eyes—again with their own personalities. Somehow love sat in her heart a little deeper in that chair.

Today she held her youngest grandchild, Maggie who had been one of those “surprise” babies, and she was a little one full of surprises. Jenny loved it when Paige dropped her off when she needed to run errands. She called them “Surprise Visits.”

As she and Maggie cuddled together, Maggie took the two fingers of her right hand that she had liked to suck for comfort ever since Jenny could remember, tipped her round, fair, pink-cheeked face up at Jenny, a huge smile showing her crooked front teeth that stuck out a bit because of her constantly sucking her fingers, her blue eyes rimmed with navy blue, sparkling with an ever-present merriment and said, “Candy?” Well, really she’d said, “canny” but Jenny had heard it enough times to know what Maggie meant. It was usually the first word out of her mouth, anyway.

“So you think you want some candy do you?”

“Yes,” Maggie said shaking her head for emphasis still gazing into Jenny’s eyes. Jenny loved the way Maggie always said, “Yes,” not uh-hu or yeah, but the real word.

“I don’t know, where would Grandma find any candy for you?”

“Right ‘dhere’ “ Maggie said with a giggle as she pointed to the wooden box that said “Lollipops for Good Little Girls and Boys” that Jenny kept well supplied with Dum Dums on a table by the wing back.

“Oh, this candy? I thought this candy was for boys,” Jenny said trying to look surprised. “Are you a boy?

“No,” Maggie said through another giggle, “I a girl!”

“Isn’t your name Ethan?”

“No,” Maggie said, her eyes widening as she pointed to herself, “I Maggie!”

“Oh, well . . . let me just read this wrapper here and see what it says. I thought they were just for boys,” Jenny said while pulling a strawberry-flavored Dum Dum from the box.

She inspected the candy closely. “Hmmm, it looks like you’re right, Maggie. This sucker says it’s for girls and boys! Would you like it?”

Maggie’s eyes glistened a bit merrier, if that were possible, “Yes, PEAS!”

“All right, let me unwrap it for you.”

“Sank you!” Maggie said, her little feet bouncing up and down, toes curled in anticipation, before popping it into her mouth perfectly like a screw finding its groove.

Maggie and Jenny sat for a few quiet moments while Maggie twirled the sucker in her mouth and bounced her feet up and down some more. Jenny cuddled her granddaughter in a little closer.

Suddenly, Maggie pulled the sucker out of her mouth, flinging it dangerously close to the shoulder of Jenny’s white blouse, “Where Mommy go?” she asked looking up and smiling again.

“Mommy went to the store.”

“Why?” Maggie asked swinging her Dum Dum back and forth like a high-school band director.

“Ethan needed some new shoes,” Jenny said smiling down into Maggie’s cherubic face, with a mouth now rimmed in sticky pink.

“Maggie, too?” It was always “Maggie, too” with the youngest, no matter the topic of conversation.

“No, not Maggie, too.”

“Why?” With Maggie, if her question wasn’t “me too,” it was “why.” She had just turned two recently.

“Your mommy and daddy just bought you new shoes last month. You remember. What color were they? Jenny asked.

“Pourple!” Maggie said, said swaying the Dum Dum back and forth again.

This child might actually have some band directing potential, “Really? They weren’t brown?”

“No!” Maggie said her little round face a little redder, “p-o-u-r-ple!”

“That’s right, Maggie. They were purple,” Jenny reassured Maggie, kissing the top of her head, feeling soft blonde hair just now growing long enough to cover her head in waves.

Jenny and Maggie continued to sit in the mauve wing back, lost in conversation until Paige opened the door and Maggie, mouth in the shape of an excited “O,” looked up at Jenny, and said, “Mama!” before jumping off Jenny’s lap and running to Paige in the hallway.

Jenny took a few seconds to enjoy the warmth that lingered where Maggie had been. Where there always would be a place for Maggie. She smiled with a deep joy. She knew those talks she had with Maggie were trivial. Many people would say they were about nothing. Jenny knew they were about everything.

Banana, Anyone?

Banana, Anyone?

Summer meant outside and brighter, longer days to spend playing with family and friends, every moment expectant with possibility, no teacher telling kids every minute of the day what they had to do. Perfect bliss. Oh how Sissy loved summer and its pleasures.

The only threat to summer in her neighborhood was the neighborhood bully who lived at the very end of Burnett Road right next door to the people with the old, crumbling chicken house that still showed patterns of blood stains and had a few stray, yellowing chicken feathers still stuck in a crevice of the dilapidated wood. The chicken house was the second scariest place in the neighborhood. Sissy shivered a bit every time she even thought about it. The scariest place in her neighborhood was Tom Butler’s house, not because it was wasting away from neglect like the chicken coup, but because of what lurked inside and might come roaring out at you at any minute—Tom Butler.

Sissy’s dad had tried to teach her big brother and her not to be afraid of Tom Butler. That house he lived in wasn’t always happy on the inside. This made Tom Butler the holy terror he was on the outside of the house, in the neighborhood, he had explained. Just try to stay away from his house and avoid him on the street—-cross to the other side if they saw him walking on the sidewalk, ignore him if he started calling you names, don’t walk down to his house, and never, ever “egg him on.” If he happened to confront them, Sissy and her brother should stand their ground because inside every bully was a coward or someone who needed to be loved. Everybody had a reason that they were the way they were. Both she and her brother Joe tried as hard as they could to follow their dad’s advice. He was smart and had been in the army. So he knew what to do with mean guys.

On one of the long, bright summer days, Sissy was just opening the screen door to outside after going into the kitchen to get a banana to eat while she swung on the swing set Joe had won in a baby contest at her dad’s work picnic about five years ago, when she heard a high-pitched howl, not like a wolf or a stray cat. No, this howl was a person’s, and Sissy recognized its owner immediately—-her big brother! He was in trouble somewhere and if he was Sissy was bound to stop it. Save him! Joe was her best friend. They played Peter Pan and Robin Hood together or King of the Mountain with friends. They read books to each other, and right now, Joe was teaching her how to ride a bike. He stuck up for her all the time. Maybe now was her turn to help him!

Frantically, she scanned the part of the yard she could see from the back steps. No Joe. His bike was resting on the retaining wall, so she knew Joe had to be close to home. As fast as she could, Sissy ran to the backyard. No people. Just the swing set and the stack of bricks Dad was going to use to build a garage, someday.

However, when Sissy reached the part of the yard closer to the Taylor’s house the howling grew louder and she could hear distinctive thumps that reminded her of huge books being slammed shut. Joe was in the side yard and still in trouble. Sissy raced to the side yard faster than Wonder Woman could and there on the ground she saw the most terrible sight! Tom Butler was straddling Joe, had his arms pinned down uselessly with his knees and pummeled Joe on the side of his face and upper chest with the fury of a dragon. Instantly, Sissy felt a tingling growing inside of her. It was electric and grew from her heart all through her body—filling her up with—-could it possibly be the courage her dad was always talking about. Sissy wasn’t sure, but she was certain she had to save Joe from that villain, Tom Butler. No one was going to hurt her big brother when she was around! No one!

She first tried to push Tom Butler off Joe, but she had that banana in her hand, so she couldn’t push very hard. She tried yelling at the bully, so loud her throat felt hot, but it was like he couldn’t hear her. She tried kicking him in the butt, but Tom Butler’s butt was padded with fat and covered with blue jeans, so he couldn’t feel a thing.

Sissy felt about as powerful as a baby bird still stuck in its nest. She was stuck too. And then, for some mysterious reason, Sissy looked at the banana in her right hand. Afterward, she couldn’t tell anyone how the idea popped into her mind. In an instant it was just there. That tingling, electricity she’d felt turned into lightning bolts and nanoseconds later, she felt her hand smushing that banana as hard as she could into Tom Butler’s right ear. With each turn of the banana, Sissy’s power grew. She felt a snarl forming on her face, and suddenly Tom Butler stop punching Joe. Sissy had a brief moment to feel like the King of the Hill and then Tom Butler hopped of Joe quick as Flash Gordon and was standing, legs apart, fists clenched, leering at Sissy. She froze—-helpless, at the mercy of a bully. She had stood her ground. Now what? She felt like someone had turned off the switch to the electricity that had enveloped her a moment ago. Sissy looked at Tom Butler and gulped, readying herself for whatever was next. She felt her brother move beside. Just his warmth calmed her somewhat, but not enough. What would the big bully do to them now?! During those horrifying minutes Sissy’s stomach turned into the now mushy banana she was holding.

But Sissy did have another secret power—-one she had overlooked, but Tom Butler, maybe her brother, had not. Sissy was a girl! It was a unwritten, but never broken law in their neighborhood that no boy could ever hit or harm a girl, at least not like Tom Butler had been doing to her brother. Instead he stood, looking like the Incredible Hulk, and glared at Sissy. Stopped in time. Finally, Tom Butler shrugged his shoulders, said something like, “Dang!” turned and trod off back toward his house.

Sissy and Joe were safe! She felt her big brother put his arm around her shoulder and squeeze. Power, pride surged through Sissy. She had saved her hero—her big brother. Smiling she looked down at her right hand and looked at the fruit still clutched there, “Want some banana?” she asked Joe. Though they knew that Tom Butler would return someday, neither one of them could stop their laughter.

Swallows (StoryADay 5/2014)

Swallows

The sun shone like the canary diamond of her wedding ring, making all around Julie sparkly and vibrant, stirring in her long-buried spring, warm-weather feelings. As she stood on her patio, she raised her head and let the warmth caress her face. A lover’s kiss, she thought. As she looked up and down the block she noticed that other neighbors were aroused by the sun’s comforting warmth. Kids up along the street were out in t-shirts and shorts giggling together in outdoor games. Mrs. Krebs hung vibrant red and melon geraniums from brightly colored baskets on her patio.

The air was clean and light. Julie could breathe and feel her lungs fill to the top for once in a long while. Winter never seemed to warrant or welcome that kind of breathing. Such a reawakening it was! Her insides seemed more alive—almost dancing.

Every single place on Julie’s earth exuded this welcome freshness. She had already ventured out to Target—on the Saturday before Mother’s Day—ugh!—and it seemed the whole store had ingested the brilliance of the day: Customers and employees smiled real, well-meant smiles. There were more “Excuse me’s.” The music on the loudspeakers was bouncy, more soothing and less annoying. The guy in front of her in the long check-out line let her go ahead of him because she had a few things and his cart was packed. Even the cars in the parking lot, whether newly washed or not, sparkled like Mardi Gras Carnival beads.

“Eddie,” she said to her husband who was sitting in the kitchen having his lunch, “let’s take a trip to the nursery and get some flowers.”

“Well . . . if you want to, Jul, but Mom always said we needed at least one week of warm weather before putting out or hanging flowers.”

Drat that Eddie and his mom! It was like she was the pope of his every belief!

“How about we put out the lawn furniture and just enjoy the sun together?”

“It’s really jammed in there with lots of other junk in the garage, Jul. How about we have a walk in the park instead?”

“You’re on!” she said. It was evident that she wasn’t going to get her flowers or furniture, and strolling the park was one of their favorite spring/summer activities so she was eager to go.

As they walked the paths, while holding hands, in the park, they played “Name that Tune” trying to guess which birdsong they were hearing and even attempted to interpret what those calls were saying. They enjoyed a full menu of people watching. Their favorite—adults and children interacting with so much joy: kicking soccer balls, shooting baskets, a few lobbed tennis balls back and forth over the nets at the courts, moms and dads or grandmothers and grandfathers swinging beside kids or with children on their laps, others giving tips to or standing watch over little ones on the monkey bars, the littlest of all being rocked in strollers by adults who hummed simple songs or melodies. Idyllic, purely idyllic, Julie thought.

After the walk, Julie and Eddie had extracted one lawn chair from the jumble of junk in the garage. Julie had cleaned it off and was resting there, reading from her Kindle White while Eddie was in the house watching the news.

At supper time, Eddie said, between bites of spaghetti, “The weather man said there might be snow tomorrow. Not much, just a light dusting.”

“Hmmm,” Julie replied. She wasn’t about to spoil her mood by talking about an event that her heart told her was not about to happen.

When Julie woke the next morning, her muscles ached. She was thinking that it must be from all the exercise she had yesterday, when she looked out her bedroom window. A gentle dusting of snow covered the lawn chair she was basking in the day before. Her insides deflated with that one look.

Why does he always have to be so right? she asked herself with a sigh as she plopped back down into her bed next to her husband and covered herself with their bed quilt, as she heard her mother-in-law say, “One swallow doesn’t mean the summer is here.”