Saturday, September 13, 2008
Who Knows Where the Wordzzle Goes ... Only Time
I missed another week, sidelined by injuries. Amazing how a pain in your foot can affect your mind. Finola was pissed to not have her words and to be frank, she scares me so once again I have given her all her words back.
Last Week - invincible, falling leaves, two-year-old, fusion, grizzly bear, Jamaica, delivery, popsicle stick, caviar, lap-top toad stool, liquid lunch, counting sheep, manacles, Jurassic Park
This Week - spam, problematic, flower girl, splurge, milk, orphanage, lyrics, politics, ice cream cone, cactus, drag race, poppy seed, swinging from a star, John Denver, diagram
Pease stop by RAVEN’S NEST and check out all the other Wordzzlers.
Here’s Finola …
Ray was curled up on the giant toad stool shaped chair in Pavarotti’s screening room. He was watching Jurassic Park on the giant screen. The drained tips of half a dozen ice cream cones mingled on the coffee table with piles of popsicle sticks and an empty milk container. “Hey Babe” Ray said as he paused the movie. “Do you want to watch from the start, I’ll make us some lunch and rewind”. Finola was not at all interested in movies or food. She just wanted to make sure Ray was occupied so she could have some time to explore Waterloo and get to know Pavarotti. “No thanks” she told Ray. “I'll splurge later on caviar and poppy seed bagels or maybe a liquid lunch. That wine from last night was really good”. Ray’s attention had already been drawn back to the screen so Finola quietly closed the door and wandered outside.
She squinted in the sun and looked at the diagram Pav had given her last night. He had knocked on her door just as she was falling asleep. “Are you still counting sheep?” he asked. Finola smiled and invited him in. “I wanted to tell you I won’t be here in the morning. I’m heading into Big Town for supplies and if time allows I may stop at the Lincoln Center drag races. Take this diagram, getting around Waterloo can be problematic without directions. Sleep well little one, I should be back before dinner”.
Finola smiled at the thought of Pavarotti at the drag races. She really liked the large loud man and hoped they would become good friends. She went back into the main hall and decided to explore room by room. She checked off the kitchen and the Orchid Room as well as her bedroom, Ray’s bedroom and the screening room. According to the diagram the next room off the main hall was the Photo Shop.
The door to the Photo Shop was heavy and it took Finola a few tugs to get it open. As the door opened the overhead lights came on and Finola found herself in a room full of photographs. Framed photos, poster size photos, photos in boxes and bags and piled on little tables. Even the ceiling was a photo – a huge landscape of Jamaica with the words One Love running across it. Finola was dizzy from staring up so she turned her attention to a wall of framed photos. There was a dark photo of a man dressed as a grizzly bear; it was interesting because the man was holding the grizzly bear head out toward the camera. Next to that was a photo of a small chubby boy standing in front of a large white house. Across the top of the portico Finola could just make out the words – Maria Callas Orphanage and School of Voice. The little boy looked a lot like Pavarotti. There were lots of nature shots – cactus gleaming in the sun, birds in flight, golden falling leaves. While they were all beautiful it was the personal photos that interested Finola. She saw more photos of the little boy. In one photo he appeared to be part of a wedding party, a sweet boy dressed in crisp linen holding hands with the flower girl. Finola realized that although the little boy appeared again and again none of the other subjects did. Each photo felt like a different place and time.
“Posh where you at?” Finola shuddered. Something was going to have to be done about Ray. “I’ll be right there” she called back. She quickly closed the Photo Shop door and caught up with Ray in the kitchen. “You hungry yet?” he asked. “Check out the frozen pizza. It’s as good as delivery, says so right on the box”. Finola nodded and Ray went about getting the pizza out of the box and into the oven. It was a bit like watching a two year old perform brain surgery. Finola had to look away, it was too soon to alienate Ray all together, she still wasn’t sure what Pavarotti’s deal was. “Where were you?” Ray asked as he struggled with the oven dials. “Just wandering around” Finola said. “Pavarotti won’t be back til dinner, what should we do?” She didn’t want to share the diagram with Ray, she wanted to explore on her own. “We could go out into the back lands” Ray said. “My old jalopy won’t make it but last time I was here Pav had a brand new Ford Fusion. He said I could drive it anytime. It’s probably here; he usually drives the old truck.” Finola nodded in agreement. Getting out into the air made it easier to listen to Ray talk.
“So what should we talk about til the pizza is done?” Finola hoped he hadn’t read her mind. “What are you interested in? Politics. Music. Sports.” “I don’t know much about politics” Ray told her. Shocking thought Finola, probably voted Republican. “I like country music, the lyrics are real, they tell a story. I don’t have to figure anything out, no hidden meanings. John Denver is my favorite.” Finola tried to look interested as she fiddled with Pav’s laptop. There was a spam filter or security program blocking her search. Finally the names of local country bands popped up. “Have you heard of these?” Finola asked Ray. “There’s Invincible Enigma and Swinging From a Star, they’re both local. Star is an all girl country rock group. Where’s Route 77? They’re playing there tonight”. The oven timer chimed before Ray could answer so Finola bookmarked the bands for later.
After lunch Ray and Finola walked across the long back yard of Waterloo and out to the garage. Sure enough the Fusion was there, keys in the ignition. Finola popped the trunk to put away the cooler full of cold drinks. She pushed a box out of the way and barely blinked as Ray approached. “Need help?” Finola shook her head and slammed the trunk shut. She’d go back tonight and check out that box full of manacles.