Come on, now. I’m not cheating on this daily prompt. These patrons needed a Passport to get to PORT-ugal.
Pass the Port
3
Tag Archives: Daily Prompt
Yep
This Fortune appeals to me today.
When your insides go kablooey
Reba stood over the cookstove and wiped a forearm across her brow. “Least the weather’s turning warmer. Time to start planting. Think it might freeze again?”
“How the hell would I know that?”
Reba shifted her stance and glared at me. “Lawd, I just asked a question. Ain’t no need to hatchet my words right when they come out.”
Hatchet. An ironic word choice. From what I’d gathered, the hatcheting Carry Nation currently sat in jail. “And when are you going to stop saying ‘ain’t’?”
Reba slapped a hot pad on the counter. “When I’s too old to fart, is when. Needs some Pape’s Diapepsin?”
“Sorry, Rebie. Things aren’t settling well right now.”
“You knows what your problem is, Fannie Porter? You worries enough to make your insides go kablooey. Now hang them worries on the hat hook and hand me that mason jar.”
“You think I shouldn’t worry? Sadie’s not herself, John knows about the Wild Bunch, the temperance women are coming, and if word gets out that Etta left with Sundance—”
“Who’s gonna tell?”
Good point. Would any of them cave in, spill our beans of Fortune?
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
That’s what men (AND WOMEN) do
Something moved on my left. “Look, Giovanni!” I pointed to the anole sitting on the rim of the Miss Reba’s flowerpot.
“You act like you’ve never seen a lizard before.”
“It’s not just a lizard. It’s an anole. Look, there!” A pink bubble grew from its throat. “The first time I saw one do that, I thought it was about to burst from the inside out. It scared me. It reminds me of Emil.”
“He looks like a lizard, does he?”
“No.” I gave him a gentle backhanded slap on the shoulder. “I was with Emil the first time I saw an anole do that. They camouflage themselves so they won’t be seen. They bob their heads and bubble their throats to show off. They also do it to protect their Territory and scare off intruders. I admire that. He stands his ground.”
Giovanni shrugged. “That’s what men do.”
“Like Miss Fannie does. And what more women need to do.”
“Guess that means you’ll be wanting to vote?”
“Let’s see.” I mocked a faraway gaze, tapped my chin, and turned to him. “Bet meine Arsch I do.”
BLOW like a hurricane
The hundred yards might feel like a thousand. It doesn’t matter. If someone needs to save Mama from the wolves, it might as well be me.
I gather courage like the Mayor gathers con-stitch-you-wants, and make my way to Scooter’s house. He sees me first and runs toward me, his arms wide. “Emmy! Emmy!” I hug him back and glance at Frank who raises his hand a few inches.
“Frank’s my tutor!”
“That’s good, Scoot,” I say, as we get closer to the porch. “Are you learning anything?”
“Tons and tons and tons. Blow the harmonica. Blow like a hurricane.”
I’ve crossed the chancy line into risky Territory.
Miss Reba’s Elixir won’t stop a bullet
“So what was in that concoction Miss Reba made for Mr. Davis?” I asked.
“She said it was honey, pepper, licorice, ginger, a couple of other ingredients I don’t remember. She made me hang an onion over his bed, too.”
The thought made me laugh. “And he allowed that?”
“Well, let’s just say it took a bit of doing. He told me he wadn’t scared of no goddamn vampire. I guess he was thinking about garlic.”
The scream pierced the evening like shattered glass.
We didn’t speak. We ran.
Sadie fell, but I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t wait. I recognized the voice behind the scream.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
Fairy kisses
“Ready?” Daddy says, looking at me.
And then I remember something. “Brandon? You said Rachael liked Scooter’s get- well letter the best. How come?”
“He drew her a heart. It was Purple with a big smiling face and red pokey hair. Had freckles, too.”
“Kissed by fairies many times,” Scooter says. “More than you, Emma June.”
I hug Scooter. I want to bounce him up and down like he does me. I can’t. Scooter’s been growing, not like a weed, but like a beautiful wildflower.
Then the three of us, a Choppers-legged dog family, say our goodbyes and are about halfway home when Daddy says, “Doodle Snip? Think we can tell you about everything tomorrow? It’s been and long day and we’re—”
“It can wait,” I say. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now.” Then I’m sandwiched between two pieces of Wonder Bread.
Excerpt from The Moonshine Thicket
Do Something!
Being offended by social injustice is Meaningless if you don’t do something about it.
From sex to an Insane Asylum
Earlier, I had been sitting at the piano, thinking of my deceitful yet productive visit with Mr. O’Connell, when Sadie shared her story in the kitchen. Horrifying as it was, curiosity forced me to stay. I heard every word. When she finished and said good-bye to Sheriff Tobin, I crept upstairs to our shared room. I opened my novel but the words blurred without meaning. (Meaningless)
I awoke to find the room I shared with her different, salty and sticky. No wonder Miss Fannie worked so hard to keep Sadie out of jail. It wasn’t just about her guilt or innocence but about Sadie’s demise if she were locked up again, secluded from the rest of the world. I wondered if the man who had raped her knew where she now lived.
I tried to imagine a girl of only fifteen placed in an asylum with no one to defend her, comfort her, or give her hope. Yes, she had been too young to have sex with Timothy, but that didn’t make her crazy enough to be thrown into a madhouse.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
Staying with a less than ordinary fruitcake
“Come out to the family room. Gladys wants a word,”Olvie yells from the front room.
Now I’m creeped out that a mannequin wants to speak to me. What will I say? Oh for Christ’s sake!
I take my time opening the bedroom door and peek out before exiting. Olvie’s hovering over the plastic body so if Gladys is saying something, I can’t tell. Yep, I’m going nutso.
“Good. There you are.” Olvie says turns toward me and stands erect. “What do you think?”
“Why, oh, did you take her shopping?” I say, trying not to think about myself in a straight jacket.
“No, silly-billy. Gladys doesn’t like to go out. I had it mail-ordered from Sears and Roebuck.
Gladys is no longer flapping in the 1920’s. Her fringed dress and headband are gone. She’s caught up with our decade and, although too big for the thin mannequin, I can’t help being impressed. The moo-moo is light green with white daisies attached to darker green vines that run diagonally down the dress. Orange stitching accents in between.
“Well, what do you think?” Olvie, or maybe Gladys says.
“It’s perfect. She looks like a new person.”
Olvie smiles. “She wanted a change so she got one.”
“Everyone wants a change, don’t they, Olvie?”
“Not everyone,” she says, and stares out the front window.
I’m so excited about the change in Gladys, I remind myself I need a real friend. Someone who’s not crazy or made of plastic.
I make myself a bowl of Trix cereal and try to remember I’m not a kid like the floppy-eared rabbit tell us on TV.
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 