An Excerpt:
A Hairy Tale by
Edward R. Rogaishio
©
YE ROYAL GOATEE
Every word of the following tale is absolutely crystal diamond and brilliantly true . Anyone who dares to say or even intimate in the slightest fashion that this is not so speaks with forked tongues out of both sides of their mouth and each of their faces that face both forward and back!
It all began simply enough, with an inherent laziness to slide razor over cheek and chin, and having several weeks with nowhere to go, no one to see, no particular ambitions, and thoughts of why waste time, effort and dollars on something that was of no real interest to begin with, I found no interest in hirsute pursuits. Bare face, hair face, mustachios a foot long and twisted into spirals, beards and sideburns and mutton chops and all their hairy rivals, who cares. Not I. Not a twit or a wit no matter what cheek and chin should care to emit. To luxuriate in laziness and let nature take its own course wherever it should choose to go was the height of my ambition and best of all, I had nothing to lose by letting it all on its own wild course go.
The tiny stubs, at first not really noticeable, grew into little curly wisps that began to look interesting. Then growing longer and longer they coalesced into a fascinating bright grey, black under-toned ball that moved in sync on my chin with every word of chatter and palaver. A bobble-head human in all its fascinating glory! Wonderful! My wife loved it. I was told I looked distinguished, and it was fun to wonder where all this would go. Leader of a parade perhaps, riding in the magnificence of a Rolls Royce Phantom, or maybe presiding over a gathering of the world’s greatest minds discussing the physics and cosmology of unusual and yet to be discovered galaxies and worlds or… The dreams had me smiling from ear to ear while the hairy twists faithfully followed the upward crescent of the lips. A long sigh of pleasure whispered out from my mouth as my half closed eyes drifted from one scene to another.
Unfortunately, all too soon I learned that living with glory had its dark side as well as bright.
Food, solid, crusty, crunchy, thick, liquidy and everything in between flowed into a hair-surrounded hungry wood-chipper sized mouth to be chewed, drunk, slurped, masticated and more. It happened one morning. I looked in the bathroom mirror. What are all those specks and drips decorating my sophisticated collection of filaments? Not sparkly gems as on an emperor’s cloak. Aw, just shake them off. Forget about it. That drippy looking red stain? Tomato sauce? Pizza? A slip of the finger over the strange collage then a quick finger to mouth resolved the question. Ah, yes. Mozzarella cheese, mushrooms, even a bit of anchovy. Last night’s pizza! The flavor and aroma began a drool and a sudden appetite for another round with the scrumptious round pie. But that was not to be. Pizza was reserved for Monday night football, a few pals, beer nuts and foamy brewskies, --- and also, darn, a not so subtle wifely tweak of my ear to be sure to clean up the mess before going to bed, and a soft growl into my ear while she smiled at the others, “And make sure you get them all out of here before they start slobbering and sleeping all over the place or you’ll be outside sleeping with the dog. Again. Even the dog is starting to complain. You smell worse than he does! And I can’t stand his yowling in the middle of the night every time you break wind in his doghouse. Just what do you guys eat, anyway?”
Too lazy to take a shower, I thought, Oh, well. A napkin will erase all trace. I wonder if that was the reason our cat liked to sit on my chest when I was lying down and I couldn’t keep her from licking my chin..??
I stroked my beautiful goatee… Where are these darn fruit flies coming from? Seem to be everywhere I go. Waving my hands shooing them away was okay until a cloud of them arose from the cylindrical, keratinized, graying filaments adorning my face. They covered my head and glasses so I could barely see. The swarm was bigger than locusts covering the African plains!
Insecticide! “Honey! Quick! The Flit!” “It’s in the hall cabinet, dear.” I walked to the hall trailing a cloud like Haley’s Comet’s tail. Darn. Can’t read the labels. The mass of miniature comets not only blocked my vision but began floating into every orifice in my head. Bad enough I can’t see… they’re plugging up my nose and starting to strangle me. Maybe this is the one. Grabbing a can I sprayed head, face, glasses, the air, the cabinets, the walls, shirt, shoes and floor… “Hon, are you sure this is the Flit? It doesn’t seem to be working.”
Head, face, glasses, the air, the cabinets, the walls, shirt, shoes and floor… I lowered my glasses to get a good look… were awash with foamy tub and tile scrubbing bubbles! I was wading through a sea of foam. The fruit flies, however, did not seem to mind for they were merrily scrubbing each other and polishing themselves to a brilliant sheen. A firmament of sparkling atom sized stars! They were so clean that after taking a brief look at their former premises as they swirled around me, they forsook going back to the grimy confines of my hairy chin and flew away. As they left I swear they formed themselves into a word I did not recognize but the meaning of which I could very well imagine. Right back atcha, pals. You never had it so good. You try, just try! You’ll never find a home like this one ever again… Food the best of the best. The crème de la crème! Tacos, kielbasa, buffalo wings, pizza, yeah, and I’ve even eaten a juicy drippy apple! So there!
Well, I suppose that is one way to get rid of them, plus we had the plus of having a very clean head, face, glasses, the air, the cabinets, the walls, shirt, shoes and floor. I even received a wifely thank you and kiss for doing all this cleaning without even being asked. Take your victories wherever you find them.
I never thought about it till I read in the newspaper, “Ferocious Fruit Flies Attack!”
It was a chilling story about enormous swarms of fruit flies invading every home in town and the fruit departments of every grocery store and market in the State, and that they must have migrated here from Chernobel’s infamous radioactivity because they were enormous! I ran out to see this for myself. There they were in the distance. They would enter fruit containing premises like a black growling cloud, descend on an orange or apple in a fruit bowl or whatever was on sale in the stores, and actually lift it and fly off! The supermarkets were their favorite targets. When they swarmed in terrified shoppers went screaming through the aisles, fainting where they stood, or curled up into balls after covering themselves with whatever was on the nearest shelves. Boxes of rice crispies not only snapped, crackled and popped but exploded in huge brown geysers burying the store in fluffy cereal. Milk containers falling out of their coolers smashed open, mixed with the cereal and made an instant breakfast for the entire community. A very calm Greeter at the front door, a retired bomb demolition expert, seeing this as an opportunity to show his boss that he was both a quick thinker and inventive employee, opened the doors wide and started walking the streets with a bull horn inviting everyone into the store for a free hearty breakfast and to check out all the Sale counters.
It was a great idea. But it had one unexpected fault. When it comes to getting something for nothing people will let nothing stand in their way to getting it. The Greeter was so successful, thousands of people ran out of their homes and out into the streets running full tilt for the store. They ran over everything in front of them. Cars were flattened and drivers and passengers cowered in terror at the roar of pounding shoes running over them. Street lamps and signs came down. The tide swelled out over lawns and front porches. One house too near to the sidewalk came down floor by floor as the flood went through and over it.
Then--- Collision!
The people running out of the store ran smack into the people coming into the store. Faces distorted as one smashed into another. Bodies flattened to as thin as paper as pressure built up in opposite directions. The pile grew higher and higher as those at the collision face started to squirt upwards as wet watermelon seeds. The human tower grew to more than six stories high. Late comers gasped as the pile grew so big it blotted out the sun. The darkness seemed to fly and float. The pile was collapsing. Those persons on the edges started to run for their lives. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pile tilted yet still managed to hold together. When it reached a forty degree angle it suddenly burst into thousands of pieces, each piece a wildly gyrating glob of skinny arms, legs, head and torso. It looked like truck loads of bizarre confetti falling down from the clouds to cover the entire town.
Meanwhile, outside, ignoring the human insanity, the flies moved away from the mass and then they would climb to a hundred foot height with their ill gotten goods, let them go so that the unhappy fruit would come whistling down like bombs from a Flying Fortress and smash wide open on streets, sidewalks, parking lots, and any available hard surface. A lemon smashed with such force on a blue car, covering it with its yellow juice, that the car’s paint job turned to a startling green. The juicy messes were immediately covered by voracious flies that ate till they could barely lift off from the ground.
Ever see a fat fruit fly try to fly? If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation you could burst a button laughing watching the winged ball rolling and looping trying to gain altitude then dropping like a miniature golf ball to bounce up and down on the pavement and then doing the same thing over again. Most gave it up and started marching across the pavement… I say marching but their bellies were so round their tiny feet could touch the ground only on one side at a time so they rolled like a ship in a heavy sea. It was so comical the thought of stepping on them and eliminating the problem never occurred to anyone. Long thin lines disappeared into nearby shrubs and flower beds where the wolves of the sweet produce could sleep, burp, and pass gas until they lost fifty percent of their new weight.
I got to thinking and wondering how so many of these creatures could accumulate so quickly? My goatee certainly could not have held so many. It hit me! Couriers! That was it! Couriers! Because the groups homing in on my goatee were small I didn’t pay attention. However, I did remember seeing flies not quite the same as the others. They were wearing bright little suits with logos on them something akin to Western Union, FedEx, UPS and others. These sons-of-fly-guns had been scouring the Northeast Coast for friends, relatives and those willing to go adventuring, and bringing them back to their home under my very nose. I was the headquarters and gathering place for the conspirators and invaders! They had been gathering in every nook and cranny in and outside the house as well as in my beloved chin hairs. Shocked, I furtively looked around in all directions, pulled my shirt up over my face, and slunk like a mean old skunk back to my own home, nailed all the windows and doors shut, spiked boards over those, climbed into bed, pulled the covers over my head, and prayed to die before I was found out and dragged though the streets before being drawn and quartered. My wife and the dog and the cat watched with their lower jaws hanging down at the wild frenzy of the so-called ‘Man’ of the house.
Fortunately for the human population, an unexpected and very much needed and appreciated, cold snap poured in from the Canadian ice pack and ended the destructive invasion. Unfortunately, however, the fruit market economy failed overnight because no one could stand the sight of the sweet, fleshy produce nor did anyone dare to bring one into their home. It took a full year for people to forget and for the fruity economy to recover.
Since no one had attacked the house like Frankenstein peasants carrying fiery, smoky torches while wielding knives, pitchforks and sickles, I cautiously removed the nails, boards and spikes and let a pleasant sunshine in.
My wife cautiously walked around me and quickly made for the door. Going shopping, dear. I’ll be back when I get back. She jumped into the car, put the pedal to the metal and burned rubber for two blocks before slowing down. Gee, I thought. Wonder why she’s in such a hurry. Maybe she’s grocery shopping. Not too much in the fridge
Three weeks went by. No wife, no food, no beer- I actually had to drink water- I had let the cat and the dog out weeks ago to forage for themselves and hoped they might bring something home. Anything. I lit a candle. Put it in the front window. Sat there for days keeping vigil. No wife, no dog, no cat. Just as well I suppose. Instead of dog and cat I was beginning to see prime roast and baby back ribs. And wife? Her’s was a face I should have launched a thousand ships to find and bring her back to me. Despair took grip within my soul.
I was down to scraping mold from the sides of the fridge and freezer. Sounds gross but mold made penicillin so I figured even though I was starving I should be in great health. Go to the market? Not in this lifetime. The store where the collision occurred had been torn down and all those people who had been squeezed so thin and squirted into the air were still floating down like decks of cards tossed up in that Fifty Two Pickup game. Then the light bulb lit. It dawned on me that my family was convinced I was totally insane and wanted to get as far away as possible.
Twenty one days, eight hours, thirteen minutes and fifty four seconds, when I could barely crawl to the window, the car rolled into the driveway. The gods of love had persuaded my beautiful other half to come back home. Bronco and Tchaikovsky were with her. (The dog and the cat. Bronco because he did a lot of jumping around and Tchaikovsky because all she would do all day was sleep in front of the radio listening to the music. She loved the classics. Try to change stations to rock and roll or anything else and you would leave with shreds hanging from your wrist rather than fingers.) Wherever wifey had gone the two of them had managed to find her and lived in the lap of luxery while I was at home lapping any spills I found on the fridge door or cabinets.
Why isn’t she coming into the house? The car just sat there. She just sat there. Bronco and Tchaikovsky just sat there. I just sat there inside looking out the window. There was an awful lot of sat-ing going on. Hesitantly they stepped out the car, one by one, one foot at a time, cautiously looked at me, leaned back towards the car. I got the awful feeling that if I made the wrong move all would run back into the car, take off, and never be seen again. I smiled at them hoping my upturned emaciated lips looked normal rather than the hideous lips of a Jason holding a chainsaw just out of sight.
The breath I had been holding burst out in a rushing gasp making the glass of the window bulge out. In fact it bulged back and forth reverberating like a Buddhist monastery bell till I pressed my hand on it to stop it. The reverberations ran up my arm and my whole body began to vibrate with it till it finally stopped. They were walking towards the house. I wanted to rush them and make a gigantic hug but thought better of it. They may have thought I was attacking and beat me into a bloody shapeless shivering quivering glob then run off again while my remains became a scrumptious dinner for every rodent and insect in the country including those horrendous fruit flies!
I nearly passed out holding back my emotions. I received a very delicate hug and tiny peck on the lips and then she took my hand and led me to trunk of the car. I hesitated. Was she planning to shove me in there and cart me to a steel barred asylum for the criminally insane or were there men in there with white coats ready to leap on me while tying me into six straight jackets? I poised myself ready to take off so fast that my flying feet would burn a two foot trench through asphalt, concrete, dirt, leave a Titanic sized wake across any water in the way, and never stop till I reached the other side of the continent. She raised the lid.
Inside…
