Twilight Manors in Palm Springs, God's Waiting Room by St Sukie de la Croix

Twilight Manors in Palm Springs, God's Waiting Room by St Sukie de la Croix

Author:St Sukie de la Croix
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781955826099
Publisher: Rattling Good Yarns Press


16

From Crayons to Perfume

Brian squeezed into his new 38-inch waist jeans. A strong belt covered the top button to stop it from flying off. If it did fly off, it wouldn’t get very far. Brian narrowly escaped an assault charge over the Macy’s changing room incident. But apparently, a button is not considered to be a lethal weapon. The new jeans were snug, to say the least. The waistband wept helplessly under the stress and strain of it all. Brian wore a checkered blue shirt. Not tucked in but hanging out, to hide some of his “blubber,” as he called it. He examined himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked like a beached whale. He feared that if he sunbathed on a beach, they might think he washed up there and start hosing him down to keep him breathing. Brian also developed a morbid, and frankly bizarre fear of Japanese whaling ships. If Brian had to resemble a sea creature, he would rather have been a mermaid. Not an overweight mermaid, but a little mermaid. He sang the song in his mind, “Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat. Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl … Girl who has everything? Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can one cavern hold? Looking around here you’d think Sure, she’s got everything.”

At 5:15 p.m., fashionably late, Stéphane and Brian walked into the Twilight Manors community hall. It was crowded. Even George, their reclusive neighbor, was there. Stéphane saw him first, “Brian, don’t mention Ziploc bags or ass chrysanthemums.”

“I won’t.”

“Ass Chrysanthemums, a good name for a band. I liked their first album, Sniff My Petals.”

“Shh! Don’t let him hear you. And behave yourself.”

“Why wouldn’t I behave myself?”

“We don’t want to piss off the neighbors. Try to be respectable and lady-like.”

“I feel like a deb going to her coming-out ball. I’m entering society. Maybe I’ll find a suitable husband.”

“You’ve already got a husband … me.”

“Oh, you’re all worn out. I’m thinking of trading you in for a new Mercedes, something German and butch, and uncut.”

“So, what am I now, chopped liver?”

“No, you’re a wrecked 1965 Chevvy Nova that’s been left in a cow barn for 40 years.”

Stéphane dropped Grandma Lopez’s birthday cake off at the potluck table. A woman waved from across the room. It was Alice, “I was in the original cast of The King and I,” Springer. “I’m so glad you two came tonight. I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Jennie Fisher. Jennie is an actor. She was the understudy for Ruby Dee in the original 1959 Broadway cast of the play A Raisin in the Sun.”

Fisher was radiant in her yellow jumpsuit and orange pumps. Both Brian and Stéphane shook her hand. Brian was entranced. “So, you worked with Sidney Poitier. Wonderful. I first saw him in, To Sir, with Love with Lulu. Whatever happened to Lulu? She just disappeared. I assume you live here in Twilight Manors?”

“Yes, I live with Alice.



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