Thursday, January 5, 2012

Painting the Roses Red

Since the new series:

Of Thursday Prompts don't start up till February, I took it upon myself to come up with one this week. Opening the dictionary and poking my finger down at a random location, however, gave me "Munsee: one of the two Algonquin languages of the Delaware peoples."

Further down that same column, though, was "mural" which made me think of painting which made the phrase "painting the roses red" pop into my head. So I used that for what turns out to be the 46th installment of Neighbors, our ongoing saga hereabouts. The previous sections are as follows: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, and 45. And here's the next!

We made quite the parade that morning.

     I'd asked Honoria and Serena to wait outside for me to 

get dressed and have my breakfast, but as soon as El Brujo and 

I wheeled through the side door at Chrysalis House, down they 

swooped, the crow passing over once to let Serena drop from 

her claws, then circling back to settle on my shoulder.  El 

Brujo already took up most of my lap, but Serena caught hold 

of my jacket as she fell, swung herself into a head-downward 

position, her tail just tickling the tip of my chin.  

"Onward!" she announced.

     For my part, I would've preferred something a bit 

subtler, but, well, I was apparently in the minority.  Even El 

Brujo was grinning as only a cat can.  "Indeed.  And how 

rude we've been, keeping our associates waiting!"

     Shaking my head just made both Serena's tail and 

Honoria's wings brush against me, so I stopped.  I grabbed the 

rims, rolled us down the sidewalk toward the Ramsays' place, 

and tried not to flinch when one of the hundreds of SUVs 

infesting the neighborhood slowed on passing us just long 

enough for me to catch a glimpse of the driver's astonished 

face staring out the passenger side window.

     Which was just what I needed: yet another reason 

for people to notice me.  Southern California's the land of 

health and Hollywood, after all, a land where those of us who 

are stove-in and wheelchair-bound stick out like even sorer 

thumbs than we would anywhere else.  Now add the crow and the 

cat and the squirrel, and I half-expected the driver to lose 

control of the vehicle, the SUV flipping over and bursting 

into flame from sheer surprise.

     Or maybe that was just wishful thinking...

     Anyway, I navigated us down the hill at Willow Street and 

was heading along the block toward the Ramsays' house when 

Honoria's claws squeezed my shoulder.  "Hey!"  She pointed a 

wing upward.  "What's up, bro??"

     I followed her gesture, saw a bigger crow winging toward 

us.  And even though I'd heard on the radio that humans can't 

recognize individual crows, I could tell it was Jefe.  "A 

little snafu," he said, gliding to perch on the lowermost 

branch of the ficus tree just ahead of us.  "Traveler's humans 

got back from their ski trip or whatever, so meeting there's 

right out."  He cocked his head at me.  "How 'bout your 

girlfriend's place, 'Mano?  Heather can give us the view from 

the doggy side of things that way, too."

     The several fears tightening my chest--fear of being 

stared at, fear of getting asked questions I couldn't answer, 

fear of looking even stupider than I already did--scootched 

over for a couple more--fear of Deena rejecting me, fear of 

her finding out that I really could communicate with animals, 

fear of what that would do to her psyche's precarious balance--

and I shook my head.  "As far as Deena can ever know, you 

guys are helpless thralls to my indomitable will and my 

prowess at training the world's lesser beings to behave, OK?  

Conventional reality is all she can take right now, and seeing 

me in pow-wow with half the neighborhood's furry and feathery 

population--"  I shook my head again.

     Honoria made a rattling sound from my shoulder.  "Lying's 

no way to start off a relationship."

     "We don't--"  I stopped, took a breath, blew it out.  

"We're so far away from having a relationship that it's not 

even on the map yet.  One step at a time, OK?"

     "Ah."  El Brujo stretched to further fill my lap.  "But 

you don't take steps, August.  You roll straight 

through."

     That made my face heat up.  "Look," I started, but she 

cut me off.

     "So why don't you roll yourself straight to the Ramsays' 

house, knock on the door, and introduce yourself as the new 

dog trainer in the neighborhood?"

     Even the breeze in the trees fell silent at that, and we 

all stared at her for a moment.  "Uhhh," I got out then, 

"thing is, Brujo, Traveler's had training.  Guard dog 

training.  And according to him, if he doesn't bark and throw 

himself at the fence trying to kill everyone who goes by when 

the Ramsays are home, they won't think he's doing his job!"

     She tapped my chest just below where Serena was hanging 

with the tip of her tail.  "Yes: according to him.  But 

he wouldn't be the first animal to misunderstand what a human 

wants.  And besides, have you listened to those poems he gives 

you to recite to me?  All that rubbish about howling his 

lonely heart out to the moon in hopes that she will bear his 

fevered message of love to my willing and waiting ears?"  

Those ears folded.  "Typical canine sentimentality."  Her ears 

came back up.  "But if the Ramsays have received complaints 

about the noise, perhaps they're looking for someone to train 

the tendency out of him."

     Jefe clicking his beak above us drew my attention upward.  

"No dice, Poosy.  I mean, sure, me and Trav maybe get a little 

wild sometimes when his folks're gone and we party over there, 

but I don't think anyone's ever called the cops."

     Serena gave a nod so emphatic, it almost dislodged her 

from the front of my jacket.  "Mr. Traveler is a very good 

dog!  He would never howl and tear things up like some 

dogs I could mention!"

     El Brujo gave a feline shrug.  "Then perhaps we should 

ask him to begin doing so."

     Another thick silence fell over the group, and I have to 

admit, I got a little chill up my back.  "Wait," I said.  "You 

want Traveler to start misbehaving so I can go up and offer to 

be his trainer?"

     "Hey."  Wings flapped, and Jefe glided down to grab my 

right forearm, his black eyes glinting.  "That's an idea's got 

some heft to it."

     "What??"  I glared at him, but Honoria spoke up:

     "And not just Traveler!"  She flailed her wings out to 

take in the whole neighborhood.  "We get dogs all over to 

start acting up, see?  Instant business!"

     "But--!"  The way animal speech works, I hadn't thought 

sputtering would be possible.  But believe me, I did some 

heavy duty sputtering right then.  "That's dishonest!"

     "Nonsense."  El Brujo sniffed.  "Even at the best of 

times, dogs are never more than half a snarl away from a feral 

reign of destruction and mayhem.  We'd merely be using that to 

our advantage."


And then comes 47.

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