Monday, 28 August 2006

Night Flight Mike, Part Five


Night Flight Mike is a novella of twenty short chapters, posted over twenty business days -- by me, your hapless host, Cheeseburger Brown. Readers who may be subject to access surveillance or content filtering please be advised that this work of fiction contains profanity and describes adult situations, but is relatively free of political subversion.

Portions of this post may contain peanuts and/or peanut bi-products.

And now, this week's first chapter:



5/20

Three incidents marred Mike's enjoyment of the first day of the Grand Bee. The first incident occurred when Mike was caught unconsciously mouthing the spelling of the words each contestant on stage was challenged with, leading to a harshly whispered reprimand from a fat judge with creased jowls who had shuffled over from the wings to accuse Mike of trying to help somebody cheat. "If you're such a whiz-bang speller you should be up there yourself," said the fat judge. His shirt bore a trail of white debris from the powdered doughnut he wagged at Mike in warning.

The second incident occurred when Mike went to the washroom and two obnoxious boys in private school suits accused him of being a "shy pisser" because he took too long standing in the stall. Mike immediately lost the ability to urinate and spent the remainder of the morning session with crossed legs.

The third incident took place during lunch when one of the other parents chatting up Father asked him to point out his children, which Father dutifully did. The blonde, pink-faced man furrowed his brow and then smiled. "Oh I see, they're not your real children," he said.

"I'm sorry?" asked Father, ceasing to chew his pasta.

"That explains the complexions," added the blonde man.

The man hadn't meant to offend Father but Father was offended. He had been offended in this way before. There was, in fact, an invisible valise of stored up offense sitting unseen on Father's shoulder. Mother touched his arm and said his name quietly, but he shook her off. "What, pray tell, do you mean by that exactly?" Father wanted to know, stepping closer to the blonde man.

Mike didn't hear what the man stammered in his defense, but Father put him in a headlock. Father had been a wrestler in college. The fat judge jogged up in a tizzy but, evidently lacking experience with wrestling, attempted to prise Father's arm loose in entirely the wrong way, succeeding only in knocking himself to the floor when Father turned around to see who was pulling on him.

Violence upset Mike, so he ran away.

When Mother found him in the lobby hiding behind a magazine about Filipino pirates she stroked his dark hair and gave him the speech about Father being under a lot of stress lately due to difficulties in the adoption process of Baby Ruby and the threat of downsizing at the office. "When it's all too much for him he falls back on wrestling," she concluded lamely.

"I know," said Mike.

"He wishes you would get into wrestling. He could be your coach."

"I don't like wrestling."

"I know."

They sat in silence a while, mother and son, watching people pass by on the sidewalk outside through the tinted glass of the hotel's face. They saw a bellhop badly mistake the balance of his cargo and go sprawling to the floor, suitcases skidding away in a hissing ring of ejecta. Mike and Mother cracked up, and laughed more than may have been appropriate.

"Sometimes it's hard..." Mother began wistfully.

Mike was patient and he waited, but the sentence remained dangling. "Sometimes what's hard?"

Mother blinked the faraway look out of her eyes. "Sometimes it's just hard, is all." She hugged him. "Try to remember the burden your father carries. It isn't always easy."

"Okay," agreed Mike.

4 comments:

Simon said...

Well that explains the differences in the kids. Strange how even in a written story it's the racial discrepancies that are so easily picked up on and stand out. I hear cries of, "It's not the norm! We must know why!" I think it's my own voice.

And is it just the fact that I'm forced to use Internet Exploder at work, or is the blog kinda 'wonky' (to use the technical term) for formatting? I'm seeing the banner graphics overlaid with the text for "Cheeseburger Brown". Been that way for a while. Same with the sidebar graphics.

Cheeseburger Brown said...

Dear Simon,

Oh, how I hate CSS. I barely have the brains to make it work for one browser, like alone the "freak" browsers like IE.

I've been looking at it through Firefox. I'll launch a virtual window now and take a look at the damage.

Any CSS geniuses want to help me?

Help!

Love,
Cheeseburger Brown

Cheeseburger Brown said...

Dear Simon,

Well, I've just had a boo through Internet Explorer for Windows 2000 (the most recent Microsoft software I have access to on my laptop), and the layout is non-borked.

Blog is also non-borked through Firefox, Safari and Opera.

What's your configuration, Simon? Maybe that will help me narrow down the scope of the problem somewhat.

Love,
Cheeseburger Brown

Simon said...

I am somewhere between little and no help, tending to the latter. I can't even view my IE internet options, let alone molest them, being somewhat hamstrung by an increasingly rigid IT policy at my place of employ. I have no admin rights to my own computer. Other than to say I'm using IE7 that's stock with the rest of the XP Office Suite, I got nuthin'.

I'm tempted to write a help ticket to my IT department and let them know that I'm encountering formatting problems when commenting on personal blogs during working hours. It would amuse me and probably the peon who initially receives it, but the Director and my own VP... not so much.