prompt: Talk to an animal.

Me he he he he eeeoooow, meow.

"Oh! It's like that is it. Well Meow back at you, you little minx. Where ARE you?"

He was suddenly surprised by the small kitten leaping, and attacking the outside of the wire screen door.

mew, mew, mew, MEEEEWWWWW

"Unh hunh. Serves you right. Sneaking outside like that. I bet you slipped right by Moms when she was on her way out to the car to go to garden club. You didn't expect to get all wet, though, did you? Now, your caught with your claws on the screen door. Hold on, and I'll get you down."

Bobby opened the screen and tried to grab the kitten by the scruff of the neck, in a mama-bite manner. Then he had to take the front paws and gently remove each claw from a screen square..

"Yow! Quit clawing me like that. I am trying to help you here. Maybe you will learn to avoid claw snags in the future.
Ok. Panther. Your free now."

Suddenly the kitten scurried up Bobby's chest and took point on Bobby''s shoulder. The loud purring let anyone nearby know that Panther had achieved happiness. The purr was interrupted by a head butt just before Panther jumped to the floor and started circling around Bobby's feet.

Meow.

"Meow to you too. "

Meeeorow. Mew Meeeoooow!

Suddenly, Bobby is singing to the kitten, "Meow, meow, meow, meow
I want turkey
I want liver...

Ok, Ok. I get it your hungry.

Gleeps! If I had realized just how irritating a cute little kitten could be, I would have paid more attention the first time I went panther hunting.

But no. I had to listen to a set of french choirboys that convinced me that kittens are cute."

3.14

An abrupt crash in the kitchen jerked Moms out of a sound sleep.  She poked Peter in the shoulder and hissed, "Peter, there is something wrong down in the kitchen.  I just heard a door slam."

Suddenly they heard a lyrical clatter.  "That sounds like my metal mixing bowls.  Peter we need to go down and see what is going on!"

Peter grumbled some.  He had always known where Trixie got her curiosity.  Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Helen was more than willing to let him lead the charge in investigating mysterious events and he knew that he would get no more sleep until he solved Helens' mystery.    They both put on their robes, and Helen huddled closely behind him as he opened their bedroom door.  

Peter stopped short outside the bedroom door as he saw Trixie holding a baseball bat and Bobby holding his slingshot armed and ready.  He held his finger to ask for silence and waived them to the back of the line.

Trixie whispered, "Watch out for the squeaky stair."

Peter nodded and stepped forward until he could see down the stairs into the kitchen where every light shone brightly.

Gradually, they became aware of garbled singing.

Moms pushed by Peter and called out, "Martin Belden.  What is the meaning of this?  What are you doing in my kitchen in the middle of the night? "

Mart shuffled his feet and looked up at Moms with no little bit of embarrassment.  "I'm sorry Moms.  I didn't mean to make so much noise.  I just felt like making a pizza."

Moms huffed, "A pizza, at three in the morning?  Have you been drinking?"

Mart puffed out his chest.  "No Moms.  But I could be drunk on love.  She loves me Moms.  Me!  Diana loves me! I am going to make a pizza to celebrate.

As Mart finished gathering the ingredients he burst into song.

When the moon hits your eye like a big 
pizza pie that's amore
When the world seems to shine like you've
had too much wine, that's amore

It was plain to the rest of the family that they would get no more sleep, and that this would be a memorable PI day.

Gloves

First Gloves

Helen sat lightly dozing, in the nursery rocking chair holding Mart while he finished his lunch.  The window was open and the curtains were billowing with the soft late spring breeze while the soft whistling of bobwhite quail filled the air.

Thirty month old Brian was standing holding on to the wooden back of an old cane weave chair next to the crib.  The cane of the chair rustled and crackled every time he turned to look at his mom and then back to the crib to watch the baby.  He had been enamored of watching Trixie ever since she came home from the hospital. He became even more diligent once he saw that the baby had learned how to suck her thumb.

Suddenly, Helen jerked Mart away from her breast, saying, "No bite, Mart.  No bite."

She caught Brian's interested gaze and continued with a chuckle, "It may be time as part of his birthday celebration, to teach your brother to drink from a cup.

Helen started straightening her clothes as she mused about the plans for the party later in the afternoon.  "Daddy will be cooking hamburgers on the grill.  I have baked beans to heat in the oven, and potato salad in the fridge.  The Lynches and Mr. James and Miss Nell will be here later and I imagine will play with you boys for a while before we eat.  I have a little cake for the birthday boy to tear into, and a larger cake for the rest of us.  Oh, and  I need to remember to take the camera downstairs so we can get pictures."

Helen was putting Mart down for a nap in his new toddler bed, when Brian suddenly called out to his mother.  "Mommy.  Sissie is bleeding."

She started up and stepped over to the crib.  "What do you mean Brian?  I don't see anything."

"There on her nose.  She is bleeding.  Not much but it is there."

Helen looked closer, and gave a gentle laugh.  "Brian, she is okay.  She just scratched her nose a little bit.  I need to find the baby nail clippers and clip her nails.  It probably would be a good idea to put her in baby gloves, too, so she doesn't scratch herself even more.

Second Gloves.

Helen was weary.  She had thought it was bad when Brian and Mart both had chicken pox at the same time while she was pregnant with Trixie.  Maybe it didn't seem so bad then because Mr. James and Miss Nell spent a lot of time reading to the boys and keeping them occupied.

"No Trixie.  Don't scratch!  Give it a chance, and the nice soothing oatmeal bath should make you feel better soon.

"But they itch, Moms.  Did the chickens give these to me?  You know how the chickens are always scratching around in the coop?  The poxes look kind of yucky like chicken poop."

Helen grabbed Trixie's hands to stop her from scratching.  "Here, lets cover your hands with your socks, and maybe that will keep you from opening the blisters and spreading hem around.  I'll call Daddy and have him stop at the pharmacy for some small medicated cotton gloves.  Then you won't be able to scratch as much, but you will be able to use your fingers to hold crayons so you can color."


Third Gloves

Trixie was anxious to start riding, but she realized deep in her soul that she needed to listen to what Reagan was saying, "You will be fine in your jeans and tennis shoes.  But you have to remember to keep your heels down, so you don't get your feet caught in a stirrup.  Remember!  Keep your heels down.  Oh, and here is an old pair of Honey's riding gloves.  They will come in handy so the reigns will slide through your hands easily and not cause blisters.

Fourth Gloves

Trixie was furiously taking notes as her mentor spoke to her  Crime Scene Investigation course.

"The most important thing to remember when investigating a crime, is not to contaminate the scene before you have bagged all the evidence and taken all the necessary notes and crime photos." Captain Molinson paused  and asked, "Are there any questions?"

As he looked over the class auditorium, he saw the hand.  He groaned.  Trixie was the most determined student he had ever met.  Her question was sure to be good.

Trixie stood and addressed the Captain.  "Sir, I realize that fiction is a long way from real life, but there is something that you never see on television crime shows, and you didn't mention it either.   Isn't it is also a good idea to style your hair so it doesn't get mixed up with the other evidence.  Most male officers wear their hair pretty short.  Female officers with long hair on the other hand, might have their hair pulled back with a plastic band,  but that doesn't seem like it would be quite enough to prevent loose hairs from the officer contaminating the crime scene."

Molinson replied, "Your correct Ms. Belden.  Hair coverings are commonly used in autopsy or a crime lab,  but they should also be used at the start of a crime scene investigation to avoid contaminating the evidence along with shoe coverings and your regulation plastic gloves ."


Final Gloves

Trixie sputtered.  "Oh my gosh, Honey.  I am sure that you and Diana will help me get these gloves on, but how am I ever supposed to get these off after the wedding?   They are too long and tight, and have about a million buttons!"

Diana grinned.  As the only married female Bobwhite, she had intimate knowledge of gloves.  "Trixie,  believe me.  Jim will have more fun than you can ever imagine, slowly unbuttoning each and every one of those buttons on those long silky evening gloves."

Point of View of a Christmas Ornament

I came to live in this house, for Bobby’s first Christmas. I was always thankful for my place on the mantle, safe from baby hands but with a good view of the tree. I watched many a glass ornament be grabbed out of Bobby’s hands and placed higher in the branches safely out of baby reach. I so enjoyed watching the holiday parties held by the Bobwhites, especially the glimpses of each of the boys and yes, even Daddy, catching their special girl under the mistletoe for a chaste seasonal kiss.

After Christmas, I would spend the rest of the year, hidden in the dark corners of the attic wrapped in tissue paper to protect the thin glass skin ornaments in the pretty red and green colors that dressed my waxy core like a fine holiday garment. I would wait patiently for the holiday cleaning before the Thanksgiving Open House, when I would be gently dusted and placed back on the fireplace mantle

When Moms first put me on the kitchen table this year, I was very disappointed. I worried that for some reason I had been demoted from the gaety of the living room. Oh how wrong I was. Maybe it was because Bobby is older, and Moms doesn’t have to worry so much about careless curious hands, but I learned that I had been missing so much fun not being in the kitchen.

I saw cooking and cookie baking. I was able to see the squabbles between Trixie and Mart, and the gentle inteference by Brian which would bring peace between the almost twins. I watched how Mart teased Bobby to be good so the shelf elf would not make a naughty report to Santa. I watched all the Beldens, from Bobby all the way up to Daddy, open the silverware drawer and pull out a spoon and then open the refridgerator and poke their heads in to get a spoonfull of sweet, cold, cookie dough. I wanted to laugh when Moms said that she ought to make extra dough just for eating from the spoon.

And I learned about the family tradition of counting wood.

One day, Moms was in the kitchen on the phone with Uncle Andrew and even a christmas ornament could be detective enough to know that she was talking about Christmas presents. All the Bobwhites were gathering in the kitchen, dressed and ready to go spend an afternoon in the snow. Moms had confirmed Uncle Andrews ideas for everyone except Bobby. Mart and Bobby were clomping down the stairs, and Mart was trying to convince Bobby that if he rubbed his hands together really hard, they would smell like peanut butter. You know, that old trick to get the innocent to slap themselves? But Moms had other ideas.

Moms said, “Bobby, I need to know that we can have a good fire tonight. You go out to the shed and count the wood.” 

Brian, Mart and Trixie suddenly swiviled their heads toward Bobby with huge grins on their faces, but Dan and Jim both looked at Moms in astonishment. Jim volunteered, “We’ll go out for you Mrs. B, and bring in some good armloads of wood.” 

Before the offer was clear of Jim’s mouth, I saw Mart gave Dan a shoulder shove. 

He ordered, “No, I need Dan to help me find the ski wax at the clubhouse.” 

Brian turned to Jim. “I need you, Honey and Di to help Trixie and I with the Christmas lights out front. I think one of the lines is trying to come down.”

I saw the other Bobwhites spin in surprise to look at the older Belden siblings and watched all three of them with huge grins on their faces, and their hands in front of their mouths signalling to be quiet.
Mart wheeled around to Bobby. “Well, go on, get your coat on. And when you get out there, make sure you count every piece. Sometimes little pieces that are good for kindling get pushed way in the back.”

Mom’s returned, “Yes Bobby, all the older kids started counting wood for me when they were ten, but I really think you are old enough to handle the job for me even though you are only nine. Hurry up, and I will have some nice hot chocolate with marshmallows ready when you are done.”

After Bobby went outside, Moms returned to her phone call with Uncle Andrew. “Go ahead Andy, Bobby is safely out of earshot now and we can talk in peace.”

Mart, and Trixie doubled over in laughter with tears running down their face. Brian made the effort to shush them while trying to hold back his own laughter. “If you don’t settle down, he will hear you, and this won’t ever work for Moms again.” 

Brian looked at Di. “You have younger siblings, so you ought to be famialiar with this.” 

Mart looked at Dan, Jim and Honey. “Moms used to use the military phonetic alphabet when she had to say something in front of us kids that she didn’t want us to understand. But when each of us finally broke that code, she knew that she had to instigate the next level of parental subtrafuge. She sent us out to the shed and told us to count wood. Every one of us was gullible enough to fall for it every time.”

You know, if I weren’t sitting around this candle, and if I hadn’t heard it myself, I never would have believed that Moms would be so sneaky.

Maybe during the next year in the attic I will be able to hear some good stories on Moms if she will pack me in the same box with that shelf elf.

Dec 4, 2014: The Sound of silence. Dead silence. Silence is golden.

Her counselor asks, “Why didn’t you tell someone or ask for help? Why did you keep silent?” Trixie responded. “You know, there are so many types of silence. There is silence, which isn’t even real silence.” “Imagine, you are alone in a damp wooded area, like the Wheeler Preserve. There is total silence, except it really isn’t the absence of sound. You hear the wind and it sounds less like a moan, and more like a low whistle. Then you hear the sound of the damp loose leaves skittering and dancing across the ground until they slap into the base of the trees born by the weight of the rain absorbed by the paper thin membranes. You hear the light rain hitting the muddy path, and the occasional splash of the drops into the already present puddles of water. You hear the very light chittering of the birds who are scrambling to huddle as tightly as possible, in hopes that many can help keep the one dry. You may feel, more than hear, the rasp of your breath as you inhale the scent of the rain and the wet dirt. You wish for someone to help you break the silence, but you they can’t because you are alone. Then there is another kind of silence. It is the silence of not talking, because you can’t believe that anybody, anyone listening to you would believe what you have to say. I was fortunate, in a way. I knew that my abuser didn’t believe that he was doing anything wrong, and he didn’t hide his actions.  I couldn't articulate why I was so unhappy. He kept telling me that I was taking risks and getting myself in danger, that I couldn’t be trusted to keep myself safe. He kept saying that he was only trying to protect me, and that is why he would find me in town, and take my keys away and insist on driving me home. Everybody always thought that he was so honorable, and responsible and  because he was open about his abuse, it seemed less like something bad.  I couldn’t believe that anyone would ever listen and believe me when I tried to tell them what he was doing to me. You may feel, more than hear, the rasp of your breath as you inhale the scent of the fear and the threat of the pain. You wish for someone to help you break the silence, but they can’t because you are alone. That is why I lived with the thundering sound of silence.”

Nov 7, 2014: "To the right, ever to the right, never to the left, forever to the right!"No

The cold wind is blowing across the wide open terraces with the rows of white stones that top the undulating hills and give testament to the fallen men and women who have given their lives for their country. Remembrance poppies snuggle in lapels while icy sleet fights for purchase on the already wet cheeks of the family members who have come this dreary, early November afternoon. Everyone is there. Moms and Daddy, Brian, Mart, Trixie and their families as well as childhood friends, Larry and Terry Lynch. And then there is Bobby. Although he wears no rank insignia today, they have all come to witness the recognition of 1st Lieutenant Robert Belden today. Diana leans close and whispers to both Mart and Trixie. “I keep remembering the five little kids practicing their Jody calls and marching commands.” (Fade in. Five kids in white tee-shirts, blue jeans and white Keds tennis shoes.) Forward harch!

Hup two three four.

Hup two three four. You had a good home but you left

Your Right

You had a good home but you left

your right

Jody was there when you left

your right

your baby was there when you left

your right

Sound off

one two Sound off

three four Cadence Count

one two three four one

two

three four Fall In! Atten - shun! A bout Face! Leeeft Face Riiight Face (Fade out) Moms lookes over at the group and frowns as Trixie giggles at Diana's memory. Moms frown only made Trixie giggle more as she spoke of her own memory. “I remember how Bobby insisted on being the Drill Sergeant, and he didn’t put up with any stragglers from either set of twins." Mark groaned. “Yeah, I got so tired of watching Stargate with him because he always complained about the sloppy salute given by Kurt Russell in the movie. Every time, he would say, ‘I don’t care how depressed or disallusioned he was, there isn’t any honest to God career Colonel who would make such a sloppy salute.’ Brian interjected, “And it got even worse after they watched Renaissance Man and started copying all those cadence’s. I think my favorite was Hamlet’s Mama”. All the Bobwhites begin chanting together, “Hamlet's mama, she's a queen.

Buys it in the final scene.

Drinks a glass of funky wine.

Now she's Satan's valentine.” Diana said, “I never would have guessed that would drive Larry to study and then perform Shakespeare.” Dan broke in, “When Bobby got his first command, I wanted so badly to warn his platoon that he had been practicing drills since he was six years old.” Jim asked, “Why didn’t you?” Dan returned with a level look. “Are you kidding me? He scared me. He had grown to be two inches taller than I was and had more muscles than I ever got chopping wood. I had no doubt that if I told tales, he would assign me to KP and make it stick.” The sudden firing of a twenty-one gun salute at a nearby burial made the young mothers hurry to cover their children's ears and hug the little ones close. Then Moms twitched Brians sleeve. “You all need to settle down now. They are ready to start." The whole group drew in their breaths. They all stood a little bit straighter as if they were obeying their baby brothers long ago commands. They watched in awe as Robert Belden took his first turn as a Sentinel at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. As part of the Third United States Infantry Regiment or " Old Guard", he honored the fallen as only one soldier can do for another. Jody call - cadence rhythm used by soldiers to keep up speed and moral while marching distances. Stargate - No profit is being made from the mention of this movie or of the starring actor, Kurt Russell. Renaissance Man - No profit is being made from the mention of this movie.

Members of the Old Guard wear no ranking insignia so as to not outrank the unknown soldiers.

Oct 22, 2014 Prompt: A scary movie

Trixie stood unnaturally still in the cheerful kitchen  She was wearing a dark shroud like dress while Honey pinned, clipped and folded to complete the alterations of the costume that Trixie would wear on Halloween night.  Honey was fitting the garment so that it would be long enough to cover the hidden gadgets in the clothes, but but not long enough to trip Trixie as she walked around the haunted house.   They were both out of the main path of traffic over near the swinging door to the dining room.  Even though Trixie was behaving well and not fidgeting during the course of the alterations,  both girls jumped as someone suddenly tried to push open the swinging door from the dining room. “Hey what’s going on?” called Brian. “Why won’t the door open? asked Jim. Honey giggled and replied, “We shot the bolt closed because we are working on a project here and didn’t want to get bumped.  You can both go around through the back hall.” When Brian, closely followed by Jim entered the kitchen they were surprised by what they saw.  Not only was Trixie standing on a seamstress stool having a dress altered but Diana was sitting at one end of the kitchen table painting paper mache masks.  Moms and Caroline Lynch were at the other end of the table decorating sugar cookies with orange and black icing. Jim gently teased Diana, “Di,  I am afraid you have as much paint on your face as you do on the masks.  Only it is not your signature purple color” Diana blushed and looked up through her dark thick lashes.  “Well, I didn’t want to have anybody mistake the demons for ghostly royalty.  Did you get everything? Brian leaned over the table and laid out his loot.  “Not quite.  We got the blood packets, the knives and the fake meat, but we weren’t able to find a copy of the movie anywhere.” Honey glared as Trixie finally lost her calm still demeanor and pouted, “No movie?  This haunted house won’t work very well if we don’t have ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ to have running in the background. Helen and Caroline looked up, gasped and shouted in unison. “No!” Five pair of eyes turned to gaze at both mothers. “Mummy?” cried Diana. “Moms. You’re pale as a ghost” worried Brian. Caroline took a calming breath, then said, “You are not playing that movie at my house and you are not making a haunted house to look like that move.  Make a haunted house about Frankenstein.  Do something about ‘The Exorcist’.  For all I care, you can make tubs of green pea soup.  But you are not doing, ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Diana laughed nervously.  “But Mummy, the Monsignor surely wouldn’t approve of us doing The Exorcist.” Caroline whispered, “Don’t bet on it Diana.  He heard my terrified confession after I saw that movie.  He worked half the night with both Helen and I to get us both calmed down enough to go home and sleep in our own beds.  He even asked that night, “why did this movie bother you so much while The Exorcist didn’t.” I told him, that seeing Exorcist in a movie theater surrounded by friends and a hundred or so other people was nothing.  But going to a late night showing,  by myself, so I could pick up Helen after she got off work was something else.” That show started at 10.00 p.m.  Helen wouldn’t get off until 11.00 after the concession stand closed.  This was at the Drive In movie theater in White Plains.  There were only a few other cars there, and we were all spaced far away from each other.” I was being all brave about it just being a movie.  I cracked the window so I could place the speaker on the glass.  One of the opening scenes was of an old slaughter house.  These five kids picked up a hitchhiker and then when he started telling weird stories about how his family has always been in meat, they dumped him off on the side of the road.  Then they were in town and they stopped to eat and an old man at the diner told them that he had some good barbecue.  They finally got directions to their grandfathers house.  That scene was of an old two story house, like some of the old ones on Hawthorne street that have those old wrap-around porches.  It wasn’t too long after that, that they showed the freezer with the dead bodies and then the man standing with the chainsaw in his hands. That is when I put the speaker back on the pole, and went in to the concession stand to wait for Helen.  There was no way that I could stand to sit in that car by myself watching that movie.” The sudden revving of a chainsaw motor caused both women to scream. Helen choked out, “I didn’t even see the movie.  But Caroline was so scared that I got scared too.  No.  You will not be using ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ as a prop for your haunted house.