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After lunching at Applebee\u2019s, Carol and her small, aging mother visited a gift shop in the mall in search of a little ceramic shepherd boy to go with the little shepherd girl on the shelf in her mother\u2019s living room. As it turned out, the shop carried a little shepherd girl but no boy. Carol\u2019s mother asked the overweight shop lady why they would carry a little shepherd girl but no little shepherd boy\u2013did that make sense?<\/p>\n
The shop lady explained that the little shepherd girl was in fact Bo Peep and that there wasn\u2019t any mention of a shepherd boy in the rhyme, was there? And she even began to recite: \u201cLittle Bo Peep has lost her sheep\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStop that,\u201d Carol\u2019s mother told her, and pointed up at the woman\u2019s big round face: \u201cDo you know what you are?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re an obnoxious, overweight cow,\u201d she informed the woman, then turned around and hobbled straight out of the shop. \u201cLet\u2019s go, Carol. Come on.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carol apologized to the shop lady. \u201cSometimes she just\u2026she tends to get\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
The shop lady touched Carol\u2019s arm, nodding sympathetically: \u201cI understand, dear.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carol wished to be held in the shop lady\u2019s lap, and rocked, and told nursery rhymes.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarol, are you coming?\u201d<\/p>\n
All the way home in the car her mother complained bitterly. She began with the insulting shop lady, moved on to Carol\u2019s failure to remain married, then turned to her own life since Carol\u2019s father died two years ago. \u201cOn the moon\u201d was the way she felt, that was how desolate, as if she were wandering around on the moon. So, she concluded, even if they had found a little shepherd boy, that wouldn\u2019t have made any real difference, she would still wish that she were dead.<\/p>\n
\u201cMother\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, I know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Approaching her mother\u2019s driveway Carol slowed and was about to pull in but saw something furry shimmying up the drain pipe at the side of the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d her mother asked as Carol continued past the driveway.<\/p>\n
\u201cI just\u2026I thought\u2026I heard a funny noise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFunny noise, what\u2019re you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn the engine. I want to drive around, see if I can hear it better.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t hear any funny\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShh.\u201d Was it a raccoon?<\/p>\n
\u201cCarol, did you just shush me?\u201d<\/p>\n
A baby gorilla?<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t ever shush me. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n
A midget in a fur coat?<\/p>\n
\u201cI said, do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do, Mother, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Whatever it was, if her mother saw it she would never go in the house again. She would move in with Carol. So Carol continued driving around, giving the thing plenty of time to climb back down and go away.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have to use the toilet, Carol.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can use mine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Take me home. You can listen to your funny noise after you drop me off.\u201d<\/p>\n
But Carol turned left at the next street and began heading towards her apartment a mile away.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarol, turn around.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with using my toilet?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t relax. I need to relax. Turn around, Carol. Now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine. Fine.\u201d Using someone\u2019s driveway Carol turned around and headed back. Whatever it was, it was probably gone by now.<\/p>\n
\u201cBy the way,\u201d her mother said after a few moments, \u201cnot to be critical, but you\u2019ve been looking awfully bedraggled lately, Carol.\u201d<\/p>\n
Unless, oh Lord, it got through a window and was now in the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt least try and do something with your hair.\u201d<\/p>\n
Or, what was far more likely, she hadn\u2019t actually seen anything. It was the two glasses of wine she\u2019d had with her salad on top of the tranquilizers.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet yourself a nice perm, why don\u2019t you.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was just hallucinating, that was all. Merely losing her mind.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou go around looking like some kind of I-don\u2019t-know-what.\u201d<\/p>\n
When they got back to her mother\u2019s, sure enough, the thing was gone. Carol pulled into the driveway. \u201cAll right, Mom. Well\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAren\u2019t you coming in?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have to get back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat for?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell\u2026to bring the car in, see about that noise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you\u2019re hearing things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cProbably. Hearing things, seeing things\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeeing what things?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust saying.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mother set to work getting out of the car. \u201cCall me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carol promised.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot between seven and eight,\u201d her mother reminded her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d That was her Matlock<\/i>-rerun hour. She had a crush on wise old white-haired Andy Griffith. Carol wasn\u2019t sure if she knew he was dead, and often felt like telling her.<\/p>\n
After getting out, her mother spoke through the inch of open window. \u201cWe should try that shop over on Forest Avenue. We might have better luck.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carol nodded. \u201cI guess we could do that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou guess?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m saying, we could do that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mother gave a parting sigh and hobbled off towards the front door.<\/p>\n
Carol considered yelling Stop<\/i>, don\u2019t go in, but sat there watching as she got her key from her purse and used it, entered the house, and closed herself in with the Thing.<\/p>\n
Carol backed out quickly and drove away.<\/p>\n
Over and over she told herself there wasn\u2019t any Thing in her mother\u2019s house. \u201cGet a grip,\u201d she said aloud, shoving in the cigarette lighter. And anyway, she reasoned, if there really was some Thing\u2013which of course there wasn\u2019t, which of course was ridiculous\u2013it would kill her quickly, it would be over in a moment and her mother would have her fondest wish. She took a cigarette from the pack on the dashboard, lit up, and felt better.<\/p>\n
But then she suddenly cursed and made a U-turn, front wheel going over the curb, and sped back to her mother\u2019s driveway. She got out, ran to the door, used her key, and went in. \u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m in the bathroom,\u201d her mother sang out. \u201cWhat is it? I thought you left.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything all right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m a little blocked up. I shouldn\u2019t have ordered that cheese thing. It wasn\u2019t even very good.\u201d<\/p>\n
While her mother went on about the cheese thing, pretty much repeating what she had told the waitress, Carol went around checking every room, including closets.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, but Kraft American is not real cheese,\u201d her mother declared from the bathroom. \u201cIt blocks you up<\/i> like real cheese, I\u2019ll grant you that.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carol heard something moving around in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot to be critical,\u201d her mother added, \u201cbut I wish you would take me someplace a little upscale for a change.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carol tiptoed towards the kitchen.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I\u2019m going to be blocked up, at least let it be with actual cheese.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Thing was much taller than she had thought, about her own height and badly in need of a perm. It was standing by the kitchen table, eating a banana from the fruit bowl, unpeeled.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you going to kill my mother?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf she ever gets out of there.\u201d<\/p>\n
The toilet flushed.<\/p>\n
The Thing gave Carol a little smile, moving its unplucked eyebrows up and down.<\/p>\n
A minute later, still going on about the cheese thing, her mother entered the kitchen. Then she stopped and stood there, gaping.<\/p>\n
\u201cCarol?<\/i> What are you doing? <\/i>For God sakes, peel <\/i>it first.\u201d<\/p>\n
John Manderino\u2019s latest fiction collection is But You Scared Me The Most <\/i>(Chicago Review Press, June 2016, $14.99). He lives in Scarborough and can be found at johnmanderino.com.<\/b><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The shop lady explained that the little shepherd girl was in fact Bo Peep and that there wasn\u2019t any mention of a shepherd boy in the rhyme, was there? And she even began to recite: \u201cLittle Bo Peep has lost her sheep\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":12107,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[112],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12106","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12106","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12106"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12106\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12110,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12106\/revisions\/12110"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/12107"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12106"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12106"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12106"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}