Saskatchewan

Ok, this one was written for Flash Fiction Friday.  Check it out.  It's a good idea.


    “Why aren’t shoes ever abandoned in pairs?” 
   
    Valerie’s tiny legs double-stepped forward – almost of their own accord – in order not to risk uncoupling from her mother’s hand.  (Valerie had visited the city once before in her six years, but that time she had traveled by car straight from her home straight into a parking garage, never setting foot in the intimidating urban landscape that passed by in her window.)  All these adults running on automatic pilot and not another kid to be seen, Valerie was scared that if she let go of her mother’s hand for even a second, she would be swallowed up in this evil land.  But her mother’s offhand, rhetorical comment increased the passing interest she herself had upon seeing the single loafer sitting on top of the corner mailbox, and she paused just long enough to feel her arm pulled along by her mother’s.  “Maybe it’s like Cinderella,” she said.

    “That was a man’s shoe, honey,” her mother said.

    “It could be a boy Cinderella.”

    “Yes,” her mother said, “it could be.”

    “Elves make shoes.”

    “Yes they do, honey.”

    “Maybe the elves take old shoes for parts to fix other shoes.”

    “Why would they only take one shoe?”

    “The elves are tiny.  The shoes are heavy for them.  So they only take one at a time.”

    “Hmm,” her mother said.  “Maybe we should see what daddy says.”

    Valerie stared up at the endless buildings, rising up as far as she could see in some cases.  She squeezed her mother’s hand harder whenever she looked up.  None of the evil, impersonal, foreign things in the city could get her as long as she held her mother’s hand.  A bus passed and Valerie felt herself pushed forward in its wake.  She grabbed her mother’s hand with both of hers.  “It’s ok, honey, it’s just a bus,” her mother said.

    A garbled voice came over the intercom in front of the building.  A buzzing sound sustained itself until the door was already closing behind Valerie and her mother.  Valerie looked at the narrow, wooden stairway in front of them.  Her mother gently pulled her forward and to her left side now, placing herself between Valerie and the center banister.  The stairs creaked under their footsteps.  Valerie’s friend Carol had a deck in her backyard.  The third step there creaked too.  But it was part of the optimistic personality of the backyard playground.  It’s creak was almost fun.  The creaks in the city’s building were sickly, seemed a part of the decrepit foreboding of the evil place.  And they all creaked.

    They exited the staircase through a door and entered a hallway with mint green floors which were pebbled with black and white rocks of some kind.  They turned into a seating area and Valerie’s mother spoke to a woman through a sliding glass window.  When they were finished talking, the woman in the window smiled at Valerie and offered her a lollipop.  Valerie took it and she and her mother sat down.  Valerie just held the lollipop, not opening it, still holding her mother’s hand.

    After a few minutes, another woman came into the waiting area and called Valerie’s mother’s name.  “Ok, sweetie, mommy has to go for a few minutes.”  Adrenaline shot through Valerie and her mother could see it in her eyes.  “I’m sorry.  I wouldn’t have brought you, but there was no one to watch you today.  You’ll be fine for a few minutes.  I’ll be right next door.”  Valerie’s mother slid her hand out from Valerie’s and kissed her on the cheek.  “The nice lady with the lollipops will keep an eye on you.”  Valerie looked over to the window where the woman in the window smiled.  It was a very friendly, comforting smile, but it was coming from a stranger.  And worse yet, a denizen of the evil place.  Valerie let her mother go more because she was afraid that making a scene would make the place aware of her.  So far it seemed indifferent.  Except for the woman in the window.

*               *               *

    Valerie was ushered out of the house before she could ask her father about the shoes.  Carol and her mother were waiting in Valerie’s backyard.  Carol was jumping up and down intermittently.  Valerie didn’t know why.  Carol’s mother sat on the back stoop and kept an eye on things.  “There’s Val,” Carol’s mother said.

    Valerie and Carol wandered the yard, bored, unsure what to do with themselves.  This was planned.  By parents.  You can’t plan to have fun, you just do it.  It’s spontaneous. 

    Valerie’s property line ended at the edge of the woods, and her father had put up a fence when she was born for fear she’d wander off.  Valerie and Carol stood on their toes and tried to look over the fence, but succeeded only in looking through the chain-links a little higher up. 

    “What’s in there,” Carol asked.

    “Butler monkeys.”

    “What?”

    “Monkeys that bring you food and stuff.  They live in there and there is a little school where people train them.”

    “There’s a school in there?”

    “It’s way in the back.”  Valerie pointed into the woods.  “My dad showed me it, but you need binoculars.”

    “Oh . . .”

    “They’re a special kind of monkey,” Valerie said.  “They only live in Saskatchewan.”

    “What’s Sekchuwan?”

    Valerie pointed into the woods.

    “Have you seen any of the monkeys,” Carol asked.

    “No,” Valerie said.  “I’m not allowed in Saskatchewan.”

    “We should go see the school.”

    “I’m not allowed!”

    “You can sneak.”

    Valerie considered this for a moment.  “Ok, but I’ll have to ask my mom.”

    Valerie began walking towards the house.  Carol grabbed her arm and stopped her.  “You don’t ask permission when you sneak.  You just go.”  She bit her lip.  “But, we’ll do it on Saturday, ok?”

*               *               *

    Valerie’s father had a whole bunch of papers spread out all over the dining room table when she entered.  His forehead rested on the index finger and thumb of his right hand.  His glasses dangled from between the index and middle finger of the same hand.  The room had gotten dark, and he hadn’t turned the lights up higher as he normally would after sundown.

    “Daddy?”

    “One second, pumpkin.”  Valerie’s father simply breathed in and out several times.  He put on his glasses and then slowly raised his head.  “What is it, Val?”

    “Do the elves take the abandoned shoes?”

    “What, sweetheart?”

    “You know, for spare parts.  Do the elves take the shoes that people leave in the street?”

    Her father chuckled.  “Why are you asking me this?”

    “Me and mommy . . .”

    “Mommy and I, Val”

    “Ok, mommy and I saw a shoe in the city.  Just one.  I thought maybe it was because the elves are too small to carry two shoes.”

    “Oh,” her father said.  He smiled and sat up in his chair.  “Come on over here.”  Valerie ran over and jumped up on her father’s lap.  “The elves can only carry one shoe at a time.  But they have special forklifts.  They can take both shoes when they see them.  And they do.  But when you only see one shoe, that’s not because of the elves.”

    “Oh,” Valerie said.  She looked down at her father’s shoes, puzzling out the mystery again.  “A boy Cinderella?”

    Valerie’s father chuckled again.  “No, not a boy Cinderella.”  He curled his lip on the right side of his mouth for a moment.  “There’s this guy.  A soothsayer.”

    “What’s that?”

    “Someone who can tell the future,” her father said.  “And he rides around on a flying pig.”

    “How come I haven’t seen him?”

    “He flies very high.  You can’t see him without a telescope.”

    “What’s his name?”

    “It’s Toby,” her father said.  “Toby the Shoedropper.”

    “Does the pig have a name?”

    “Of course.  The pig’s name is Pigasus.”  Valerie’s father adjusted his glasses slightly on his face.  “And when Toby needs to warn people that something is going to happen, he drops a shoe on the spot where the thing is going to happen.”

    “But why?”

    “Have you ever heard anyone say ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’?”

    “No.”

    “It means that something has happened and that people know something else is also going to happen because of the first thing.  And the second thing is usually bad.  Well, the phrase comes from Toby dropping his shoes.  He drops the first one to warn people that the second one is coming.  And then he drops the second one when the second thing happens.  Since he does this at different times, and sometimes at different places, you usually only see one shoe.”

    “Why doesn’t he just tell people something bad is going to happen and what it is?”

    “It’s against the rules.”

    “Who made the rules?”

    “Vince Lombardi.”

    Valerie’s father stood and lifted her up.  “It’s about time for bed.”

    Valerie’s father tucked her into bed and said goodnight.  “I want to say goodnight to mommy.”

    “Mommy went to bed.  She was very tired, sweetheart.”

*               *               *

    Valerie stared out her bedroom window on the second floor.  She searched for Carol approaching the house.  Valerie had decided Friday night not to go to Saskatchewan with Carol, but had changed her mind Saturday morning.  Her father had been quiet all morning and kept pacing all over the house.  He did make French toast and eggs and sausage and bacon and English muffins.  Valerie only ate one piece of French toast and a strip of bacon.  Usually her parents would force her to sit at the table until she ate more, but her father didn’t say anything.

    Valerie ran downstairs and out the back door when she finally saw Carol.  She had expected it to be more difficult to get outside without her father noticing, but he was engrossed in a phone call when she came down the stairs.  Carol had worn denim overalls, almost identical to the ones Valerie was wearing.  She had also brought a green, plastic stepping stool from her house.  The two girls walked quickly towards the fence.

    “Did you have any trouble sneaking out,” Carol asked.

    “No.  My dad is on the phone.  He didn’t see me.”

    “What about your mom?”

    “She had to sleep at the doctor’s.  She has a broken gomenzingowma.”

    “What’s that?”

    “It’s next to her humperdinck.”  Carol narrowed her eyes at Valerie.  “It’s not a big deal, people break their gomenzingowmas all the time.  My dad says they just have to give her some special medicine and fix it with a gomenzingowma wrench.  We’re going to visit her later on.”

    When they reached the fence, they took a quick look back towards the house and then began.  Carol went first.  She stepped up on the stool and then jumped up, swinging one leg over the fence.  She got the other leg over and then dropped to the ground and fell on her backside.  Valerie stood on the stool and surveyed the situation.  She couldn’t figure out how to get over the fence the same way Carol had.  She decided on jumping and leaning forward.  She began tipping over.  Hanging upside down now, she twisted her body and her legs came over together and she fell flat on her back.  She felt a slight buzz in her head for a moment, then she stood quickly and she and Carol headed off in the direction of the monkey butler school.

    The deciduous jungle before Valerie felt empty and quiet.  Every sound she and Carol made echoed, seemed amplified in contrast.  One of the wild monkeys scurried up a tree, but was invisible, rustling in the leaves by the time the girls looked up.  Carol picked an acorn up off the ground and threw it into the leaves, but it went straight through a single leaf, tearing a piece off, instigating nothing else. 

    “There’s no banana trees in here,” Carol said.

    “My dad says butler monkeys eat acorns,” Valerie said.

    “I never heard of monkeys eating acorns . . .”

    Carol screeched and jumped in the air, kicking her right foot.  A garter snake flew up and off of her shoe and made a high arc right back at the girls.  Carol ran to her right and Valerie began jumping and spinning, wildly smacking and wiping herself with her hands.  The confused snake landed between them and slithered away.

    “There are no monkeys in here,” Carol said.  “Let’s go back.”

    “There are so monkeys in here.  We saw one.”

    “That was probably a squirrel.”

    “My dad says some of the butler monkeys have bushy tails.”  Valerie began walking again, leaving Carol standing behind her.  “You’ll see when we get to the school.  They’ll have them in there so you can look close at them.”  Carol let Valerie get another ten feet or so before running after her. 

    “Wait,” Carol yelled.  Valerie stopped and picked up a pair of maple seeds.  She tore them apart and split open the end of one side and stuck in on the end of her nose.  The other she threw up in the air and watched as it helicoptered to the ground.

    “The monkeys like this,” Valerie said.  She grabbed a few more seeds and began throwing them in all directions, watching the helicopter motion all around her.  Nothing else stirred.  She continued with this behavior until she saw the school maybe two hundred yards away.  “There it is!”  The girls ran towards it and Valerie threw the rest of her seeds in glee.

    The school was in a large clearing, maybe two acres, and there was fencing behind it and to its right.  The fencing was just so overgrown with foliage that it couldn’t be discerned unless one was up close.  The building was made of rotting wood and was only about five feet by five feet.  Inside there were only shelves, a couple of rods, and what looked like some kind of nest and a plethora of animal droppings.

    “I found them!”  Valerie was awakened from her disappointment by the sound of her father’s voice.  She turned and saw him running towards her.  Carol’s mother was walking towards them from a different angle.  “Val, honey, you scared the heck out of me.  You know you’re not allowed in the woods.”  Valerie stared at her father dumbly while he grabbed her up and hugged her.  Her father turned to Carol’s mother.  “I want to hurry back.  You ok finding your way back?”  She nodded.

    He carried Valerie as he walked, a noticeable limp in his gait.  “Come on, we have to go see mommy.”

    Valerie looked down as her father walked.  “Daddy, what happened to your shoe?”

    “I lost it in the mud somewhere.  I didn’t have time to dig it out.”
   
    Carol and her mother walked slowly so as not to catch up to Valerie and her father.  “I made her do it,” Carol said.  “I don’t want her to get in trouble.  Tell him I made her do it.”

    “No one’s in trouble, baby.  Not today.”