Shea Spends the Day at Grandma's House

Shea Carpenter is being dropped off at Grandma’s house. Grandma is getting older and finds it difficult to keep up with the demands of owning and maintaining her three bedroom home on Apple Gate Road in Cloverdale. Shea will be raking the yard, filling the bird feeders and taking in the pads off the lawn furniture for winter storage in the garage.

Shea’s older brother usually helps on these Grandma Days but today Shea will do it alone. His brother is hanging out with his friends and Shea needs to earn enough money to pay for the window he broke on the family truck.
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Last Friday Shea and his three best friends were walking home from school. It was the kind of Autumn day that confuses a kid. The mornings were cold so mother made you wear your jacket to school. By going home time it was too warm to wear the jacket home so you left it at school. The next morning is cold again and you don't have your jacket so mother chews you out and calls you irresponsible. Yes, it was one of those confusing days.

Half way home Shea saw something no boy could resist. He slowed his pace falling two steps behind his friends. He reached down and picked up a perfect dirt clod lying alongside the road. Shea had to made a tough decision. Would Ronnie or Liam get plastered? Shea considered his options. Ronnie was fast and could catch him in a race. Escape was nearly impossible and Ronnie knew how to inflict terrible pain. Liam, on the other hand, was chubby but had a great throwing arm. You'd risk death if he threw a return clod at you. Ronnie or Shea, he was running out of time. One of them was sure to turn around wondering why he was falling behind.

Shea made his decision and threw the clod at full force. Liam took the hit squarely in the back. Liam dropped his books, filling the air with a string of cuss words fitting the occasion. Ronnie laughed, dropped his books and began a frantic search to find ammunition for Liam. Shea took off, running across the field toward his home and safety.

Shea didn’t get far before taking a hit that sent him into the weeds along an irrigation ditch. Liam and Ronnie doubled over with laughter while they waited for Shea to pick himself up out of the ditch. Suddenly they went quiet.
Shea stood holding softball sized dirt clods in each hand. Shea had a good arm and from that distance would definitely hit someone.
“Run,” Ronnie shouted. Ronnie headed one direction. Liam went the other. A moment later the air filled with flying dirt.

The dirt clod fight continued down the road to Shea’s front yard. Liam found safety by standing in the sheets Shea's mother had drying on the clothesline. Ronnie jumped into the back of the Carpenter's pick up truck and hid behind the tailgate. Shea surveyed the situation. He was fully armed and ready to throw but who would be the target? It was too dangerous to throw a dirt clod at Liam. If he missed and dirtied one of mother's sheets he would be redoing the wash himself. Ronnie was in the weaker position.

Shea had a special clod with a rock center for Ronnie. It would be a real stinger. He crept closer to the pick up. Ronnie peaked up over the tail gate. Shea saw him and threw. Of course throwing a dirt covered rock at someone's head was dangerous but since when did a young boy take that into consideration? This was the time of life when you did really stupid things and suffered the consequences. Many of life's lessons are learned that way. Shea's education was full of them.

Ronnie ducked behind the tail gate just as the clod streaked overhead. Then SMASH, the clod found its target - the back window of his dad's truck. Shea froze. Ronnie and Liam grabbed their books and took off running. Shea would take the fall for this one alone.
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Shea walked up to the front porch, kissed his grandma on the cheek, picked up the rake and went to work on one of the biggest yards in Cloverdale. It would be nearly dark before he finished.

Salmonella Sally

Sally Reichman is the cafeteria manager at Cloverdale’s School for Encourageables. This school is joint venture between the Confederacy of Dunces' Ministry of Health and Asylums and the Ministry of Education and Employment. It is a special school for children who find it difficult to follow society's rules. Most call the school's clients delinquents. The liberals label them 'misguided' . Sally refers to them as 'mouths'. The Ministry calls them Encourageables, a new word coined to bring a positive feel to their condition. The word hopes to emphasise the fact that with a little encouragement these children may correct their deviant behavior and adapt to society's norms.

Sally has managed the cafeteria for the past five years. The children call her Salmonella Sally. The nickname implies her food isn't safe. To the contrary, there have been no cases of food poisoning in the school since she inherited the cafeteria from the last manager who left due to a nervous condition. Granted, her food seriously lacks presentation and taste (the faculty of the school refer to her food as institutionalized vomit) but it is nutritious. There are times it is overcooked, burned may be a better description, but "A little bit of extra carbon never hurt anyone," she says to anyone who complains.

Sally brought strict German efficiency and discipline to what was a cafeteria in crisis. She strives for a noise free environment. Children’s voices are fingernails on a chalkboard to her. To preserve her sanity, Sally hovers over the children as they enter the cafeteria. She listens for the slightest vibration in a child’s vocal chords. She watches for hands free from their moorings. “Hands to the side and voices switched off!” she says in a voice soft and frightening like a cold breeze on a Halloween night.

Sally waits patiently knowing someone will crack and break her rules. When that happens she descends and feeds on the young and helpless offender. Unfortunate is the word to describe that child. Her punishments are graduated, beginning with a pull on the arm to take you from the safety of the herd. She then has you alone, separated from the pack. She bends down, moving her mouth closer to your face. She smiles, revealing her yellow nicotine stained teeth. New residents easily burst into tears. Those with stronger stomachs endure what comes next. With breath smelling of death and disease she delivers her warning.
“You violated the peace of my sanctuary. You don’t want to do that. I can be very nasty. Nasty indeed. Do you understand or should I repeat?”
No one asks her to repeat. No one’s stomach is that strong. The warning's climax is spoken with her red cracked lips rubbing against your outer ear. “Do we understand each other?”

Sally watches the child's face and continues to breath heavily while staying in close proximity. She waits for a faint shade of green to appear. When it does, she's finished with you. She nods to the class signalling for two students to escort you back to the line. She stands erect, rubbing her hands on her stained apron and begins her walk up and down the line of the damned.

Sally’s cafeteria has been referred to as Dracula’s dining room. You don’t know what’s on the menu. Is it her specialty - stewed chipped beef on toast - or is it you? Your lunch begins when you pick up a lime green plastic tray divided into compartments. If you’re lucky you'll find one recently washed. Searching the stack of trays for a clean one is grounds for detention. Sally has a special table in the back of the kitchen for delinquents deserving detention. The menu for those sitting at the Table for Special Purposes can only be described as ghastly. Imagine food not fit for a mongrel dog. That’s the cafeteria's normal menu. Now image the food unfit for that menu. It may be food that fell on the floor during preparation, scooped up, blown off and thrown back onto the grill. It could be food burned into charcoal sculptures. The lunch ladies enjoy their mid morning coffee and can’t be bothered to check food in the oven or fryer. Whatever it is you can be assured it is indigestible.

With plastic tray in hand you begin your walk down the Path of Saints sliding the tray in front of you. There are large STOP signs taped to the glass telling you when to stop and wait while food is slopped onto the tray. You may only look up. Any attempt to look at the food being dispensed will be met with a ticket to the Table of Special Purposes. The line moves forward when the child gets the nod from the lunch lady. Only when you are safely sitting at your table can you look at the food. Some risk making a face at the steaming matter before them. Others succumb to a power greater than themselves, pick up their fork, slide it into the quivering mass and pray to whatever higher power they believe has abandoned them.

A large sign hangs over the two trash cans near the cafeteria’s exit. It reads:
“Any Uneaten Food will be Used in Tomorrow’s Casserole” Sally has everything thought out. All angles are covered. There is no hope.

Then one day Matthew Rider appeared in the Cafeteria's’s doorway. He was a new seventh grader from the Outside World........

To Be Continued........

A Cloverdale Bulletin.

The Faith Tones will be performing at the First Baptist Church in Cloverdale this evening. Come early to get an autographed album of their latest release “Jesus Use Me”.

The Faith Tones started as The Tonettes, signing rock and roll at local fairs. After numerous attempts and numerous failures the Tonettes changed their name to The Faith Tones and switched to gospel. Their rise to fame in the Confederacy of Dunces has been meteoric. They are in high demand on Sundays but are ready and willing to do engagements on weekdays as well.

Bring your family and prepare for a great three hours of knee slapping, soul saving good Gospel sounds. Admittance is free but please bring a dessert for the social afterwards.

Fillmore's Treasure

Fillmore Fluster shot this picture with his Kodak Instamatic 100 on his way home from rabbit hunting. He pulled off the road, snapped the picture and continue on his way. It was getting late and Mrs. Fluster doesn’t take kindly to anyone coming in late for supper.

During the meal Fillmore was tempted to tell the family of his discovery but decided against it until he was sure. Because thinking before speaking isn't one of Fillmore strengths, he settled on silence as the best course of action. Mrs. Fillmore and the nine children picked up on the quiet.

“Fillmore, what’s wrong with you tonight?” Mrs. Fillmore said while sitting back in her rose cushioned chrome framed kitchen chair. She folded her arms across her large chest and spoke. “Your appetite is healthy but we haven’t heard one peep from you all night. Aren’t you going to say something about the chicken fried steak with homemade biscuits and cream corn? I know its your favorite and expected more than a few grunts in return for my day spent hovering over that stove like a vulture over roadkill.”
Mrs. Fluster was a lonely woman living out in the country. Her one pleasure, beside caring for her goats, was cooking good country meals and hearing her family praise her for it.

“Mother, these are fine vitals and I’m right beholding to you for the time taken to do the cookin. But my mind is fixed on something at the moment.” Fillmore nearly spoke about the rainbow but choked back the words.
Mrs. Fluster reached over and slapped his back so hard it dislodged his upper plate. Fillmore pushed the teeth back into place and waved off the second blow. “I’m fine mother. I’m fine.” he said.

“You’re not thinken of leaving me with all nine of these children and going out huntin agin are ya, ‘cause if you are....” Mrs. Fluster was up on her feet with both hands on her hips. She towered over the diminutive Fillmore causing him to hold both hands over his face in an act of contrition.
“No, no, no........ calm yourself mother. I’m not goin huntin.”
“Well what is it then?” she asked firmly. Fillmore was stuck. His poky brain was no match for the keen mind of his wife.

“Mother, I found gold today.” Fillmore’s words brought silence to the table, except for three year old Alice Bell. She had her face in a small bowl of gravy blowing bubbles.
“Where?” Mother asked. She sat down. The kitchen chair groaned under its burden.
“Over at the McDonald’s Place. I’ve got a picture on the Instamatic.”
“Children, grab yer coats. We are going into town.” Mother was up and out of the kitchen carrying Alice Bell with one hand and used the other to catch gravy drippings.

The family drove into Cloverdale in their 1973 Ford truck. Fillmore, Mother and baby Alice Bell rode up front. The rest of the Fluster children rode in the back with the family dog Pooch. They stopped at the one hour film counter at the Red Owl Grocery Store to have the film developed. The family enjoyed ice cream sandwiches while they waited in the parking lot. The children grew bored and played hide and seek in and around the parked cars. Five year old Matthew Paul was nearly run over by the Widow Parkins in her 1986 Lincoln. She cursed as she swerved to avoid him and hit a shopping cart instead. Lincolns are built like tanks so no damage done.

In one hour Fillmore picked up the prints. The family gathered outside the store near the coin operated bucking bronco. Fillmore sorted through the pictures he took of the countryside and interesting trees until he landed on the picture showing the gold.
“There it is,” he said as he proudly held it up for all to admire.
“Its a rainbow,” little Nancy Lue said while reaching up to touch it.
“It is a rainbow,” Mrs. Fluster exclaimed. She snatched the picture from Fillmore’s quivering hand. She studied the picture for a moment. “Where’s the gold Fillmore?” she asked.
“In the port a potty of course,” Fillmore explained. “We all know there’s a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow. Well, here’s a rainbow and here’s where it ends.”
“Fillmore Fluster. I can’t believe how stupid you are. I’ve always known you were an idiot but hoped it would pass after being married to a sensible woman for all these years but now I see I’ve had no affect on you whatsoever.” Mrs. Fillmore handed Alice Bell to twelve year old Floyd. “Fillmore, this is a fist. And now I’ll show you where it ends!” Mrs. Fluster readied a blow intended to knock sense into her husband. Fillmore was as thick as a concrete but had a good sense of fight or flight. He settled on flight.

The Fillmore’s spent the better part of twenty minutes running around the parked cars in a game of hunted and hunter. The constable was finally call and put an end to the spectacle. Mrs. Fluster drove the truck and the children home. Fillmore waited at the Red Owl for his brother. He would be spending the night away from home.

Harvey's Confession.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned,” Little Harvey Walburg sniffled. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
"Please use the tissues by the door," the priest said taping on the screen seperating them.
"Forgive me Father for I have sinned," Harvey whispered while reaching for a tissue.
“Louder child.” the priest spoke from behind the partition. It was his tenth confession of the afternoon. It would be improper of him to glance at his watch but he succumbed to the temptation. His time was nearly up. He was grateful. His stomach was grateful as well.
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned,” Harvey spoke louder as he shuffled closer to the side of the priest’s head facing him. Harvey recognized the smell of Old Spice. It was Father Mack. Only Father Mack and his dad wore Old Spice. He liked Father Mack. He was the youngest priest at St. Bartholomew’s. He was funny.
“Go on,” Father Mack spoke quietly. Harvey could hear him, just barely.
“It has been one week since my last confession,”

Harvey’s heart beat loudly in his chest and ears. This would be his hardest confession yet. He was a good boy but even good boys can get into trouble. He hesitated to speak. His studied the laces on his Converse All Stars. He cleared his throat and readdressed his runny nose with another tissue.
“Hands,” Father Mack admonished. Harvey resumed the correct posture for a prayerful sinner, hands clasped and face forward. “Go on.” the priest urged.

“Father. Something strange happened to me this week. I don’t understand. It scares me because I don’t want to go to Hell. Sister Eugenia says that boys like me are damned and I don’t want to be damned. Father.........” Harvey sniffled. His voice grew softer, almost afraid that if he spoke louder someone outside the confessional would hear and tell everyone about the horrible Walburg boy. “Father...... I’ve seen the monsters that live in Hell from them windows in the chapel. I’m afraid.”
“Harvey, the devil doesn’t want a pint of a boy like you. Look at you. What kind of a meal would you make for one of those demons. You let me decide if you’re going to Hell or not. Isn’t that my job?”
“Yes, and that’s why I’m here instead of playing,” Harvey found a spot of dried ketchup on the front of his shirt. He picked at it but it wouldn’t go away. He remembered where it came from. He dropped one of his tater tots when he saw Luellen Lacy walk into the cafeteria during lunch. She was a half day late because of a dentist appointment. Something inside him stirred when she walked into the room. Something he had never felt before.

“Father, I saw something today.”
“What was it child?”
“Luellen Lacy,”
“Harvey I don’t think it proper to refer to Luellen as something. She’s a young Christian girl.”
“Father,” Harvey continued. “I saw..........,”
“What did you see?” Father Mack’s impatience revealed itself in the pitch of his voice.
“I saw ........ I think I saw......... well I’m pretty sure I saw........ Father I’m going to Hell. I know I am.”
“Harvey, calm down. Take a deep breath.” They both inhaled and exhaled at the same time. “Harvey, you saw something. Now what was it?”

“I ..... saw........ color,”

“Color?” Father Mack spoke in a questioning tone. “Harvey, what exactly did you see?”
“It had to be color Father. It was bright and shiny. I was scared. It was beautiful Father and I had this feeling like I wanted to be near it. I wanted to put my tater tots down and walk right over to Luellen and look at her. She was beautiful, not like the other girls. They are all gray and black and white and ........ and. Father I saw color.”

“Harvey, the world isn’t the same anymore is it?”
“No Father. When she is in the same room I see colors. Lots of colors .”
“You’re confused aren’t you?”
“Yes Father. Boys don't like girls and girls don't like boys. Isn't that the way its suppose to be?" Harvey asked.
"Well Harvey, not really. At your age it may seem that way but as you get older. Well, in your case - maybe right now - you'll see it differently."
"Sister Eugenia says boys should stay away from girls and never ever look at them. Me and my friends stay away from the girls. We never looked at them. Well, they never look at them but ........ Luellen shines with color and when she smiles I see more color. I see the sky. Father, did you know the sky isn’t gray?
“I’ve heard that,” Father Mack replied.
“”Father. The devil makes you see color. Isn’t that right?”

“Harvey. Listen to me closely. Life for you has always been black, white with a bit of gray. Everything has been exactly right or wrong. There is nothing in the middle. Its been a simple life, very innocent - as it should be. But, you’re different now. You’re growing up and, well, you see what many people see. You see there is more than black and more than white”
“Father, do all grown ups see color? And if so, why don’t they tell us?”
“Well Harvey, you kind of learn it on your own. Color just comes to you one day. Like it did you. Now there are some grown ups that saw color once but..... forgot. They keep those memories deep inside. It hurts to think about them, or share them."
”Why...?”
“Harvey. Seeing color can make life all topsy turvey and confusing. Give yourself more time. You'll understand."
“Father.”
“Yes Harvey.”
“Do you see color?”
“Yes Harvey, I see color. I see beautiful colors everywhere I walk on God’s good Earth.”
“So, if you see color then I’m not going to Hell, am I ?”
“No Harvey. You’re not going to Hell.”
“What should I do then about Luellen?”
“Harvey, it is OK to look at Luellen. Just don't stare. Staring is rude. Its even OK to talk to Luellen. Don't be upset if she doesn't want to talk to you though. She may not see color the way you do. It is OK to think she is beautiful but remember, there is still sin so be careful of your thoughts. Let your mind control your heart because that is where the color comes from. Don’t let your heart control your mind. Remember, you’re a good Catholic boy and God expects you to follow the commandments.”
“I always try Father.”
“Good boy Harvey.”
“Should I tell my parents what I’ve seen?”
“Sure. They will have very good advice. I’m sure of it. Now you run along.”
“Shouldn’t I say some Hail Mary's?”
“Harvey, there is no commandment that says ‘Thou Shalt Not See Color’”

Harvey laughed. He jumped up and opened the confessional door.
“Bye Father. Thanks.”
“Good bye Harvey. Be a good boy.”
“I will Father.”

Father Mack heard the door close. He was finished. The sins in his parish were absolved. He rested his head against the back of the compartment. The memory of his first color came back from long ago. A blue dress worn by a beautiful young girl in his confirmation class. Her name was Laura.