13 July 2008

Saturday Sunday Fiction

"Why don't those birds ever stop circling!?", Bill said to Jerry. "Jerry? You still with me, man?" Bill craned his neck around as far as the bindings that had him staked to the desert floor allowed, trying to see his friend, who was staked out a couple dozen yards away. "Jerry!"

"Where the hell else would I be," Jerry croaked. "I'm staked to the ground just like you are! Besides, it's better for them to be circling than for them to land - cause then it's lunchtime!!" he finished with a hoarse laugh.

Bill sighed and went back to watching the buzzards circling. The hot sun had long since drawn all the sweat of him, and he could feel the dried, salty remains of the rivulets that hours before had run down the side of his face. And he thought he could feel his skin blistering in ... well, places that didn't normally get much exposure to the sun. He closed his eyes against the brightness of the sun as his mind drifted.

Suddenly, he found himself standing in a grocery store, looking at the peanut butter displays. He reached for a jar and thought, Smooth or creamy? The other shoppers would never comprehend just how much was riding on the decision. Wait. Smooth or creamy? He looked down and realized he was holding a bottle of sunscreen. He looked around as he felt a tap on his shoulder and saw his old college flame, Linda, the redhead that had started his fascination with that hair color.

I hadn't talked to her in so long that I wasn't sure any communication from me would be well received, he thought out loud in a film-noir non sequitur. "Oh, my God, Linda! I haven't seen you in forever!" She was wearing purple lizard shorts and a sequined leotard, and had a marmoset on her shoulder.

He reached out to hug her and she looked at him quizzically, "But Grandpa", she said, "I don't want hair on my chest. I want BOOBS."

Bill shook his head to try and make sense of her statement and found himself back in the desert, naked and staked to the ground, with Linda kneeling beside him, bottle of sunscreen in her hand.

"Step right up, step right up!! Try your skill!!" A voice drew Bill's attention, and he looked over to see Danny DeVito in a Ringmaster outfit, like in the movie Big Fish.

"Hey, Linda," DeVito whispered, "his winkie looks a bit burned. Maybe you should put somea that sunscreen on it."

Linda looked over at the Ringmaster and she couldn't help but be envious of the idea. She opened the bottle and began applying the lotion eagerly and liberally.

"Who will be the first to try their luck," the Ringmaster cried. "Three shots, and you only have to hit once to win!!"

Jerry stood up, his bonds shredding, handed the Ringmaster a dollar, and took the rifle from his hands.

First? How could he be first? And if he was first was it fair to take the first shot at the drunken birds? Bill thought as Linda's ministrations began to both soothe and excite him. While he tried to make sense of these conflicting sensations, Jerry fired the rifle at the circling birds.

Suddenly, a shadow fell on Bill's face, and cool, refreshing water hit him. He blinked the water out of his eyes, looked up, and saw Teresa standing over him.

"Oh, Bill. I'm so sorry. Thank God I found you before it was too late!" She knelt down and began untying the ropes that held Bill spread-eagle on the ground, and then handed him the canteen and moved over to Jerry.....

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