We're getting a bit speculative this week! Not too much to say about this one. I quite like my main character and his boss. Maybe they'll turn up again at some point in FFF's future.

I'm hoping to have a quick turn around on the next story and maybe post it on Tuesday or Wednesday, and then post another at the end of the week in order to get caught up a bit.

---

Rhymes With Bacteria

I looked up after I finished tying my shoelace. My laces were getting so frayed they wouldn't stay tied for more than, like, two minutes before they came undone again. I was hoping I could pick up some new ones in town. Maybe ones that actually liked to stay tied. And don't think it's because I don't know how to tie a knot. I can tie a knot, let me tell you.

My boss was already about a mile down the road ahead of me. If you stop to tie your shoe or take a whizz or anything, she never stops to wait for you. Especially when she's in a mood like this. I could see her ponytail — almost all grey now — bopping around. Instead of walking, she was sort of skipping, almost dancing, along to whatever tune she had in her head. I was too far away to hear, but I bet she was humming or singing, too. And you'd have been a fool to bet against me.

I broke into a jog to catch up with her. It really wasn't fair, in a sense. I was hauling the bag that had my boss's two guitars, flute and hand-drum in it. She was hardly carrying anything, just her little pack with her clothes and her toiletries, as she called them. Not that I'm complaining; it was my job to carry the instruments, but she could skip off down the road because she wasn't hauling anything heavy.

She was doing some of her sleight-of-hand when I caught up to her. An old coin, shiny and polished from play was appearing and disappearing between her fingers. It was something my boss did, almost nothing more than a habit, when she was walking or around the camp fire when her red, hand-crank radio couldn't pick anything up. She did it for her own amusement, but I always found the coin's little dance hypnotizing.

I once asked her to teach me some, a ways back.

"I am," she once told me, showing me a hand that a moment before had held a rubber ball.

"No you're not," I said, probably sounding whiney. "I can't see what you're doing."

"And there's the rub," she said, "You can't learn magic, Davey. It can't be taught to you. That's important. You just have to keep your eyes open until you spot the trick. Somethings you have to figure out for yourself."

The rubber ball was back, but this time it was a different colour.

"Am I walking too fast for you, Davey?"

"No ma'am, it's my damn laces."

"Shoelaces aren't worth swearing over, Davey. Not usually, anyhow."

"Sorry ma'am."

I didn't really have to call her ma'am, but when I'd gotten the job with her three years ago, my mom had told me to be polite and respectful, and emphasized the point with a smack across the back of my head. My mom emphasized a lot of her points with smacks or a wooden spoon. The swats never bothered me, it was just the implication that I needed a smack to learn something. Like she thought I was slow on the uptake or something, you know?

"What are we doing here again?" I asked while I shifted the bag from one shoulder to the other.

"Oh, we haven't been back in a while, I thought I'd see how Barney was doing. And if the squashes are ripe, they make the best soup here."

She went back to her humming and the coin continued dancing. Sometimes my boss doesn't care much for chit-chat. Not that I mind, but I've been told I'm a bit of a talker.

---

The sun was starting to go down, but we decided — my boss decided — that we'd keep on hoofing it. We'd passed the old green highway sign indicating we were on the outskirts of town. The green and white paint was flaking away, half the sign was just bare, dull metal, but I could still read the the name: Georgetown. No sense making camp, she said, when we're an hour away from sleeping under a roof.

Not too far past the sign, I had to stop and take a whizz. You had to be careful in the weeds and thistles in the ditch on the side of the road. Most of the plants had spikes and points; they wanted you to stay away. Although some of them would hook onto your clothes to catch a ride. That's how they spread their seeds around, my boss had once told me, although it seemed kinda unreliable, just waiting for me to come along and take a whizz. But I guess plants don't have anything else to do, when you think about it. Their entire lives are spent just sitting around and waiting.

When I'd buttoned up my pants and was on my way back to the road, I found a doll in the grass. It was in pretty good shape, although awful filthy. I thought its dress probably used to be blue, but who knows how long ago it'd been abandoned. When I found it the dress was a pale grey and its hair was faded almost to white. I guess dolls can age, too, in a way.

I brought it out of the ditch with me, because if it was one of those dolls that talked the batteries might still have been good. A long shot, but a guy's got to get lucky sometimes, right?

My boss saw it and her nose wrinkled up.

"David, what have you got there? It's probably covered in germs."

"I'll wash it up later. It's not really too dirty."

"Have I told you about tetanus, Davey?"

"Yes, ma'am, you have." Only about a million times. I didn't mention that, though. I suppose that's her job when you think about it. She just didn't have to be on the clock, all the time. I didn't think so, anyway.

"You better be sure to wash your hands before you cook supper tonight."

"Yes ma'am."

I'm not sure why I kept it. It wasn't one of those talking dolls, didn't use batteries. I figured maybe some kid in Georgetown might want it, like maybe I could trade it or something. I stuffed the doll into my own bag, so my boss wouldn't have to keep seeing it. That's how she was; if she kept seeing something, she would keep lecturing you about it.

An hour later, we could see Georgetown's lights. It was one of the towns that still had electricity. Ol' Barney had rigged up a little turbine in the river that generated enough power to run streetlights on the main drag. The store had a working fridge, too.

As we got closer, the fields got a little less wild. Weeds and scrub turned into crops. On our right, a bunch of cows were still munching away. The sun was almost completely gone and I suppose the cows were getting their bedtime snack.

I fished my flashlight out of my bag: it was one of my prized possessions, no batteries required. You just shook it up for a while and that gave you light for a few minutes. Barney had once explained to me how it worked. Magnets and stuff, so I had to be careful not to drop it or leave it near a fire.

I had to keep shaking the flashlight, but it kept us from stumbling over rocks or cracks in the ashphalt.

---

We spent the night in the first farmhouse we passed; they knew my boss and happily put us up. She sang for them and I washed the dishes. While I was doing the dishes, I scrubbed as much of the grime off doll as I could.

The next morning we walked the rest of the way into town.

"Georgetown used to be a lot bigger," my boss explained. She was always more talkative when we were inside towns. "More spread out. All the cities and towns were."

The buildings along the main road were pretty well maintained. If you looked down old side streets you, though, would see the further away you got, the more things got run down.

We'd pass townsfolk on foot, in buggies or who were just on horse-back and they'd all greet my boss with "Hi Lynda!" or "Morning Lynda, nice to see you back this way!" and she'd greet them back with a smile or awave.

We found Barney in the centre of town. He was leaning over these pieces of black glass, arranged like a starburst.

"Solar panels, Barney? Where did you find those?"

He looked up, bald and sunburnt. He often had a beard but he must have shaved recently; his jaw was covered in grey stubble. His face crinkled into a grin when he saw us.

"Lynda!" He stood up (a little slower than he used to, I thought), wiped his hands on his pants and threw the rag he'd been polishing the glass with on the ground. They hugged, and he kissed my boss on the cheek.

"I got them off some folks travelling out west. I don't even think they knew what they were trading me."

My boss put her hands on her hips, "And you swindled them, I suppose?"

She never sounded as sore with Barney as she did when I got a lecture. That's how it seemed to me, anyhow.

"I gave them a price they thought was fair."

"I see I'm not working hard enough, then."

She reached into her bag and then tossed something at Barney, who caught it and whistled. He held up a roll of duct tape; it was unused, still wrapped in plastic.

"I need one of my guitars restrung, and I think the body is starting to dry out and crack on the other."

"Let me see them. I'll get 'em fixed up for you."

I sat down the bag of instruments so Barney could check them out.

"How's business, Lynda?"

"Any idea just how few words rhyme with bacteria, Barney?"

---

That evening after supper most of the town gathered around. Barnery's solar power array had been replaced by a bonfire and it was time for our show.

I was allowed to accompany my boss, tapping out a rhythm on the hand-drum while she played guitar and sung. To me, it was quite and compliment, although she didn't exactly phrase it like that.

She just handed me the drum and said, "Try not to get lost, Davey."

But I don't think I'd have been allowed to play if she thought I wasn't up to snuff.

"What shall we hear about tonight?" she asked Barney, while she adjusted the tuning on her guitar. I was sitting a little ways behind her, so the light from the fire kind of hid the crowd. It was my first time playing in front of a group, if you must know.

Barney rubbed the stubble on his cheek. "How's about you start with the one about how colds work. I think we could all use a reminder."

My boss smiled and began to strum her guitar. I joined in on my cue and we played the song she'd wrote. She had made it silly, and easy to remember. The song was about germs, clean water and hygeine. Susperstitions sneak on people, she always liked to say. So that was our job, to travel around and remind them.

When I first started working for her, two years ago, I thought the whole thing was kind of dumb. It didn't seem like a real job, wandering around singing. Not like farming, or my older brother who was in Toronto learning about medicine. But I started to enjoy it. Travelling, meeting people. My boss told me what we did was important and I figured one day I'd believe her.

I traded the doll for a disposable razor that I planned to give to my dad the next time I was home. My boss was glad to see it go. She had strong opinions about what should be kept and remembered, and what was just old junk, my boss did.

3 responses to "Week #27 - Rhymes With Bacteria "

Ruth wrote: Monday, 04 Aug 2008 17:15 Hey hey is that the Georgetown I know about? I wasn't sure, but then you went and mentioned Toronto! *grin* I like the mood of this one a lot, kind of mellow. I want to know more about the environment though, and what the world they're living in is like. I'm guessing if this turned into a longer story you'd learn about it as the characters travelled. Neat concept too. Daveys little observations throughout added to his character a lot I think.

Dana wrote: Monday, 04 Aug 2008 22:02 I think it probably was your Goergetown :P Jenn and Dave (of Great Brain Run fame) passed through town the day I was working on the story, so I guess I had the name stuck in my head.

Erinn the Bold wrote: Wednesday, 06 Aug 2008 17:17 I approve completely. I would like to see a longer story focussed on these characters, or maybe just a couple more short stories. I also see it as a comic book, in my head, so it's sad that you're not also an artist, in that way.

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