The Days of Wine and Wordzzle

Finola’s story is back this week. I worked with this week’s words and the words I missed last week. The list is at the bottom – who wants to scroll through all that.

Please stop by RAVEN’S NEST and read all the other great Wordzzle stories.

Finola – Part 15

Ireland and Ray sat on the back deck of the main house at Waterloo. Ireland was stringing crescent beads together. Ray was fascinated with how fast she worked. He kept blinking and each time he looked again it seemed a whole section was strung. Ireland snipped the ends with a small pair of purple scissors and set her work aside. “Are you making something special?” Ray asked. Ireland shook her head and laughed. “I’m never sure what I’m making until it’s made. This one could become a necklace or a wind chime.” Ray looked impressed and interested. “You sell these?” Again Ireland laughed. “Oh I don’t think they’re that good, not good enough for a person to spend money on. They’re my therapy; they keep my head calm when it’s full of static”. She laughed more, longer and louder. “I used to make these silly favors for Sweet 16 parties. Colored bottles, blue mostly, full of multi-colored sand. I tried selling those. Lovee called it ‘BlueBottle Boondoggle Novelties’”. Ireland could see she had lost Ray. She felt for him, he always looked so lost. Lovee had far less tolerance. “He’s a moronic misanthrope” he had insisted. Ireland laughed at her husband; he loved throwing big words around. She told Lovee the boy was just suffering from a case of puppy love but Lovee wasn’t buying it. “Don’t be such an erudite asshat my love” Ireland said in her sweet voice. “Ray may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he's clearly mourning a lost love. Stop judging so harshly. You sound like a disapproving father”.

Truth was Lovee did feel a bit like a father, Finola’s father. He had been shocked when Finola ran away; her disappearance had been the catalyst for the trip that eventually brought them to Waterloo. After experiencing nothing but apathy from the authorities Lovee had become livid with rage and decided he would find Finola on his own. He and Ireland were certain Finola’s story about her mother’s broken down car was a fable and they were both worried that she was running from more than she could handle.

On their way north Lovee and Ireland has stopped at a large marketplace. It was the kind of place that sold everything; most people spent the entire day there. After stocking up on all the supplies they needed Ireland suggested a little R&R. Lovee agreed and they decided to just wander along the outskirts of the market. Ireland was wearing a large floppy hat and munching on a cinnamon bun when she stopped short and grabbed Lovee’s arm. “Isn’t that the gentleman we saw at the restaurant last night? The one the waitress said was some mysterious tycoon” Lovee snorted “A tycoon eh? Just happens to be wandering the roadside haunts of the RV crowd. I love you sweetie but you believe too easily and too quickly. That waitress had the brain of a parakeet and the common sense of a hockey puck”. Ireland squeezed her husband’s hand. He always sounded so much more severe than he really was. All bark, no bite – just nuzzling. “You’ll never win Miss Congeniality dear. But if there’s ever a totalitarian state looking for a leader you’re it”. Pavarotti had come up beside them by now He was enthralled with Ireland’s sweet melodic laugh and she was fascinated by his larger than life persona. Lovee thought he looked like a gigantic penguin but if his wife was happy he was happy. They had lunch together and Pavarotti told them about his self made town. They parted ways with Pavarotti extending an open invitation to Waterloo.

Finola’s trail was ice cold and Lovee was becoming increasingly frustrated. After leaving the marketplace they spent the next few days stopping at every small town off the Interstate. Not a single lead. Lovee was so out of sorts that he decided to by-pass a crowded truck stop and drive straight through. Ireland had convinced him that Pavarotti might have connections that could help them find Finola.

“We’re about a half hour out of Waterloo babe”. Lovee didn’t get an answer. “Ireland honey?” “I’ll be ready, I’m just trying to decide which bathing suit hides the cellulite” Lovee knew better than to tell his wife how ship-shape she was. He also knew better than to ask why she was trying on bathing suits. Lovee glanced back into the RV and shook his head. “I heard that” Ireland called out. They were still laughing as they pulled into the strange but delightful town of Waterloo.

Pavarotti was a gracious but distracted host. As best as Lovee could figure out Pavarotti was concerned about one of the young women who lived in the town. Lovee was a very straight forward guy so it was difficult for him to relate to someone as lyrical as Pav. The only other person they had met so far was a young man named Ray. Lovee was not impressed. “We’re stuck here with a guy who talks in haiku and a kid who makes my idiot cousin Mel the Meat Packer seem like a genius. And where are all the people?” Ireland tried to calm Lovee. “Let’s just look around and give it all a chance. Why don’t you try to spend some time with Pavarotti and I’ll talk to Ray”.

Ireland picked up her beading and started a new strand. “So Ray what do you do here?” “I’m just visiting” Ray explained. “I met a girl and we were going on to the big city when I thought it might be fun to stop here. Now I’m sorry we did”. “Why sorry?” asked Ireland. “Well she disappeared. Here I was thinking we were going to have a torrential love affair and she just leaves. Took Pav’s car too”. “Torrid” Ireland said. “Torrid?” Ray repeated. “You said you and this girl were having a torrential … Never mind honey, continue”. “She’s a great girl. Her name is Posh and everything about her is like magic. She …”

“Ireland! I think we found Finola”. Lovee was shouting from inside the house as he and Pavarotti made their way to the deck. “Finola?” Ray asked. “There’s another girl missing?” Lovee glared in Ray’s direction. “Go make a list of homonyms and put them in alphabetical order” he snapped at poor confused Ray. Lovee went to sit beside Ireland. “This girl Posh. She’s Finola. Everything matches”. Ray was afraid to speak and looked to Pavarotti for guidance.

Pavarotti took a deep breath. He really didn’t like all this chaos but he had to take charge. “I think we should assume she’s headed towards the big city. And she’s driving my car so I know what we’re looking for. We’ll leave in the morning”. Ray asked to come along. Lovee whispered to Pavarotti “We leave the insipid idiot here”. Ireland jumped up and took Ray’s hand “Come on sweetie, you and I will hold down the fort here and wait for Finola to be found”.

Ray was glad to have Ireland on his side. “But what about Posh?”


Bluebottle
Floppy hat
Livid
Misanthrope
Torrid
Apathy
Erudite
Catalyst
Hockey puck
Parakeet

Totalitarian
Moronic
Boondoggle
Tycoon
Insipid

Blinking
Cellulite
Crescent
Ship-shape
Homonym
Suffering
Packer
Wind chime
Scissors
Necklace

Static
Puppy love
Penguin
Cinnamon
Alphabetical