Cozy Up With a Wordzzle

Happy Wordzzle Saturday! It’s a crisp chilly fall weekend here in NJ. Wonderful Wordzzling Weather.

Stop by RAVEN’S NEST and check it out.

This week’s words:

Tattletale
Homogenous
Flighty
Cornucopia
Plethora
Militant
Lovelorn
Myopic
Digitalized
Mute

Washing machine
Cholesterol
Blatantly
Birdman of Alcatraz
Poltergeist

Finola - Part 14 - the first 13 installments have been combined and posted on the sidebar.

The road ahead was long and flat and empty but at least the sun was rising. Finola’s barely contained tears stung even more as she squinted into the widening sunlight. As much as Ray annoyed her she now wished he was by her side, if only to drive. Pavarotti’s car was new and comfortable and an ease to handle compared to the old jalopy and the ATV but still, it was hard to plan while concentrating on the road. This myopic lifestyle had to stop. The stress of not knowing what might happen next was as bad as being back at school. It was only tempered by the physical freedom. Not knowing what to do next Finola rehashed the events that had led her to this latest road trip.

Pavarotti had been exhausted from his trip and had gone to bed before midnight. Ray was, as usual, in the screening room. Finola stood in the doorway waiting to be noticed. The sound was so loud she needed to shout “Pause it or mute it or something. I have to talk to you”. Ray jumped at the sound of her voice. “I didn’t see you; this Birdman of Alcatraz movie is a trip”. Finola blatantly ignored him as she drummed her fingers on the door jam and tapped her foot impatiently. “You want to talk to me now?” Ray asked with his usual command of the obvious. The look on Finola’s face must have been pained; Ray leapt from the sofa and came to her side. “Are you sick again? We never did take care of your bite problem. I thought it was OK”. Finola assured Ray that she was fine. “I’m just feeling like it’s time to move on”. She ignored Ray’s confusion and plunged on. “I’m antsy Ray; I think we’ve been here long enough’. Ray seemed more and more upset as Finola stuttered to come up with a good reason to leave. “Look! I’m flighty OK! that is it. No other reasons. It is just time to go”. Ray stood up straight and tried desperately not to look forlorn and lovelorn. “I don’t mind you yelling at me all the time Posh, not when you at least make sense. But yelling and demanding just to be yelling and demanding, well – that’s a pile of crap”. Wow! Finola thought. Homeboy goes all militant moron! Good for him. “I’m sorry Ray” she told him softly. “I guess what with Pav being back, I’m feeling like we’re wearing out our welcome. I probably just need some sleep”. She leaned forward and kissed Ray’s forehead and turned away before he could say another word.

After pacing back and forth in her room for a bit Finola realized she had to act. Inaction was the enemy. Doing something, anything, was the plan. She packed her meager belongings into the backpack Pavarotti had given her. It made her smile just to look at it. It was the most vivid purple with huge peacock feathers on it. Pav had called it her right to be bestowed with ‘A Plethora of Purple Plumage’. Finola hated the idea of leaving Pav. She left the light on in her room and quietly slipped into the Photo Shop room. She didn’t want to take anything of monetary value from Pav, she still had most of the cash she had left school with, she just wanted the photo of the little boy in the wedding party. Finola found the photo exactly where she thought it would be. She stuffed it into her backpack and went back out into the main hall. Ray was still in the screening room. Pavarotti was asleep. With the light on in her room she knew that if either of them came out to the hall they would think she was sleeping. Finola only slept when the lights were on.

Finola pulled into the truck stop. It was almost noon, she had been driving since before dawn and needed to stretch and get some food. At one end of the truck stop there was a diner called ‘Cornucopia’. At the other end a bar called ‘Tattletale’. Finola wondered why a bar would be called ‘Tattletale’ when she realized it was ‘Tattle tail’ and it wasn’t a bar it was a strip club. She laughed at the silliness of men and headed for the diner. She was in the mood for pancakes.

Ray had to shout over the vibration of the washing machine. “Hey Pav, you gonna make breakfast? I have a craving for pancakes”. Pavarotti smiled at Ray and nodded. “Pancakes sound good, I just wanted to get all my trip laundry sorted out”. They headed to the kitchen together. Ray was rambling on about Pav’s movie selection. “I can’t believe how many movies you have. Even the ones I’ve seen before, like Poltergeist, seem different, they look and sound better. Must be that High Digitalized stuff. Right?” Pavarotti had known Ray for a while and found it best to only correct him when it was a matter of safety. Pav smiled thinking of how he had noticed Posh take that same approach with Ray. “Is Posh awake?” he asked Ray. Ray said the lights were all on in her room so she must still be sleeping. “We’ll let her sleep until breakfast is ready” Pav suggested as he laid out all the pancake ingredients. He asked Ray to get the milk by the back door. “There’s a milkman all the way out here?” Ray asked as he set the bottle on the counter. “No” Pavarotti told him, “the milk comes from the cows I keep. Tommy milks them every morning. He leaves me what I need and takes the rest for his family”. Ray was staring at the milk bottle. “Is it safe to drink?” “Of course it is” Pav said. “Why wouldn’t it be?” “I thought it had to be homogenous” Ray answered confidently. “Don’t worry” Pav told him. “The cows are definitely homogenous; this way we skip the factory”. Ray was satisfied with that response.

Finola sat in a booth by the window. This was the first time since leaving Waterloo that she had seen any traffic and she was enjoying watching the cars and trucks come and go. She assumed that by now Ray or Pavarotti had discovered she was gone. Her pancakes arrived, steaming hot with butter melting down the sides.

Pavarotti piled the pancakes onto a large platter as Ray went to call Finola.

A sweet voice cussed softly as her pancakes all ran together. “Lovee you’re making me ruin breakfast. And you know you need to eat soon so you can take your cholesterol pill”. The large RV had to suddenly slow down as it approached the truck stop. “I’m sorry sweetie, didn’t expect traffic. We could just wait and eat at Waterloo”.