Saturday, November 1, 2008
Wonderful Wonderful Wordzzle Hagen
Stop by RAVEN’S NEST and check out all the Wordzzle stories.
Panorama decided not to go to the mall, she hadn’t slept well and she felt cranky and exhausted. She had just about put the strange call from Vegas out of her mind and now the call from Chicago. The sound of her mother’s voice was like an arrow through her soul. Mom had always been good with a bow and arrow.
“Panny honey! Answer the phone. I know you’re there. You can’t avoid me forever you know. Finola’s school called again; we have to deal with this Panny. Call me.”
Panorama hadn’t seen her Mother in years. Her last image of Mom was of her in a waitress’ uniform, reading an issue of Glamour and smoking an extra long cigarette.
Panorama turned away from the answering machine and tripped over a squeaky toy. She scooped up the toy and called to Roscoe. He came running and took it happily. Panorama was glad she had found the toy, without it he’d be howling at the moon any time now.
Ireland settled into the wicker rocking chair with a soft sigh. She was enjoying her time at Waterloo. It was an odd place for sure but it was peaceful and beautiful as well. And she enjoyed Ray’s company. He didn’t compensate for Lovee’s absence but he was a good kid and unintentionally amusing.
“Did you want me to put olives in the martini?” Ray made Ireland jump out of her thoughts. “No honey, no olives”. Ireland laughed to herself. And he’s a good bartender. “So” Ireland started as she settled back, martini in hand. “There’s a lake or stream near here?” Ray shook his head. “Are ya sure honey? I could swear I saw a cormorant this morning, they only live near water.” “Is that those things that look like grasshoppers only they’re rare?” It was Ireland’s turn to shake her head. “That’s a praying mantis; I’m talking about a bird”. Ray played with the straws on the table as he spoke, making strange perpendicular patterns. “There is a pond or something near the shanty town”. Ireland tried to keep an open, objective mind but the strangeness was getting stranger. She hadn’t heard the term shanty town in a hundred years.
“Can we have a civil conversation?” Pickles Pendegrass asked her daughter. Panorama was glad her mother couldn’t see the sneer that crossed her face. Civil? Now she wanted to be civil? Of course, she needed something.
“I don’t know Pickles. Can we? Let’s start with your ridiculous name.” Pickles tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. “You know why I chose the nickname, you liked it.” “The symbolism is not lost on me Pickles but that was when I was a girl and we were a team, before Finola. Pickles sighed. “Did you know Finola left school?” “I assumed something was up. I got a strange call a few weeks ago.” Pickles sounded frustrated. “And you didn’t call me. Or at least call the school. It’s dangerous for her to just be wandering the planet.” Panorama was equally frustrated. This was where they always ended up. “I’m well aware of the statistics of troubled girls versus the world Mom, very aware.” Pickles didn’t hear the anger in Panorama’s voice. She just heard the word Mom.
Howling at the moon
Bow and arrow