inexplicable short story ahoy
Title: Punch And Judy
Summary: Um?
Rating: PG ish
She said, Maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Maybe there’s something I’m missing, and I should be walking forward and not looking back.
Yeah, but, he said, how do you know where you’ve come from iiiiiif you never bother to look over your shoulder and think about where you’ve been?
Okay granted, she countered, but in the end, it’s the looking forward that will help the most. I mean, I could keep looking back, but supposing there’s a tree in the way.
Everything’s slapstick, with you, he said, and was disgusted for the rest of the day.
She said, Maybe I need to learn to sing a little louder.
He said, You’re heard in China as it is.
Okay, oh, she said, maybe the problem is that I need to learn Chinese.
That’s right, he said, and he patted her on the head, except she was wearing a hat, so he patted her on that instead. Learn to sing in Chinese.
It was the most encouragement she’d received from him in weeks, and she swam in it like it was wine and water until she realized that he was being sarcastic, and then she chased him with a meat cleaver, but only for a little while.
She said, how do you feel about children.
He made a frowny face.
She said, Too bad.
He left the house for three days, and when he came back, she told him she’d been joking. Then he made her leave the house for three days, and when he let her back in, he started observing her when she took her pill every morning. Just a precaution, he said, because it’s not like we’re ever having sex again anyway.
They had sex again anyway.
I wish you wouldn’t fall asleep immediately, she said, but he only snored, which, as an answer, was unsatisfying.
She said, I got a job today.
He sat up straight so fast she thought he would go through the roof.
Doing what exactly?
Was that approbation she heard? Disapproval? Disgust? Indifference? She couldn’t tell. Everything sounded the same with him.
Corner store, she said. I’m going to man the cash register.
He narrowed his eyes at her. You’re sure you’re up for that?
Of course I’m up for it. What kind of question is that?
Well, it can be a complicated job, cash registers. A lot of buttons and stuff. You have to learn codes.
It’s the corner store, she said. The only product they’re guaranteed to sell out of every month is toilet paper. It’s not rocket surgery.
Hmph, he said. Womanning the cash register.
What?
You said you were going to be manning it. You’re not a man. It’s sexist. You’re going to be womanning the cash register.
I just find that a little bit ironic, she said, and when he asked why, she wouldn’t tell him.
She hadn’t been joking.
She said, I wasn’t joking.
He was eating the spinach, but it was a complicated way of eating the spinach, one that involved a knife and fork. He looked up at her with a long stem dangling from his mouth as though he were a cat who had just caught an alien mouse.
Joking about what, he said.
That I’m pregnant, she said. I told you I was joking, but actually I wasn’t.
Why, he said. Why would you do that.
She shrugged. Defense mechanism.
No, I don’t mean that. Why would you be pregnant?
Well, it happens, Punch. It’s not an unheard of phenomenon.
No, I don’t mean that, he said again, I don’t mean that, why aren’t you paying attention? Our lives are so perfect, Judy, so very very perfect. Why would you go and do a thing like getting pregnant, and mess everything up?
She sat and stared at him for so long that eventually he returned to his spinach, and the sound of the knife scraping against the plate as he slowly, laboriously, needlessly cut it into bite size pieces sent her over the edge. She threw the plate at him first, then the silverware. Then dessert, because that was the order she’d been going to serve in. Then the decanter, which held apple juice, because it wasn’t good to drink when you were expecting. Then the rest of the tea tray. Then the side table. Then she went through the double doors into the kitchen and started from there, propping the kitchen doors open with one of her shoes. She threw the other one at him, just to get things started. Then the tea pot, the sauce pans one by one, her mother’s hand-knitted dish towels, three tins of beans from the pantry, the entire contents of the silverware drawer, and a priceless blender from Pampered Chef which had cost her three hundred and ninety dollars and tax. Finally she wheeled the kitchen island out through the doors and shoved it in his direction; it was heavy, and she couldn’t get much momentum, so it trundled towards him like a dim-witted pet, stopping just shy of his knees.
What, he said. What. What did I say.
I hate being pregnant in the summer, she said.
We should go to the lake, he said, with unexpected kindness, and then followed up with expected ferocity, You’re the size of a boat, and the shape of a boat, and I have a theory I’d like to test out.
This is your fault too, she said. Why do I have to suffer for it when it’s your fault too?
I abdicate all responsibility, he said, returning to his newspaper. As far as I’m concerned it was immaculate conception.
She snatched the newspaper from his hand. Immaculate conception, my arse, she said.
He blinked up at her. No, you can’t get pregnant that way.
She went and had a hamburger. It seemed like the thing to do.
I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you, she said.
He held her hand with a desperate grip, and his white knuckles burned lights into her skull.
Don’t die, he said. Don’t die.
This, now, she said. This is a family.
He looked over at her, and the baby looked too as he dandled him on his knee. A solemn little thing. Had the eyes of an owl, and gave you the impression he was looking over teensy little spectacles. She was immensely proud, and also a little frightened.
This is a conglomeration, or agglomeration, of two souls who have made a mutual commitment to each other, to provide for each others’ physical and emotional needs as well as seeking to support the continued population explosion of their shared country by producing offspring, not to say spawn, he said dryly.
That’s what I said, she said. A family. That’s exactly what I said.
I know, he said, and his eyes were wise and fathomless. I heard you the first time.
Summary: Um?
Rating: PG ish
She said, Maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Maybe there’s something I’m missing, and I should be walking forward and not looking back.
Yeah, but, he said, how do you know where you’ve come from iiiiiif you never bother to look over your shoulder and think about where you’ve been?
Okay granted, she countered, but in the end, it’s the looking forward that will help the most. I mean, I could keep looking back, but supposing there’s a tree in the way.
Everything’s slapstick, with you, he said, and was disgusted for the rest of the day.
She said, Maybe I need to learn to sing a little louder.
He said, You’re heard in China as it is.
Okay, oh, she said, maybe the problem is that I need to learn Chinese.
That’s right, he said, and he patted her on the head, except she was wearing a hat, so he patted her on that instead. Learn to sing in Chinese.
It was the most encouragement she’d received from him in weeks, and she swam in it like it was wine and water until she realized that he was being sarcastic, and then she chased him with a meat cleaver, but only for a little while.
She said, how do you feel about children.
He made a frowny face.
She said, Too bad.
He left the house for three days, and when he came back, she told him she’d been joking. Then he made her leave the house for three days, and when he let her back in, he started observing her when she took her pill every morning. Just a precaution, he said, because it’s not like we’re ever having sex again anyway.
They had sex again anyway.
I wish you wouldn’t fall asleep immediately, she said, but he only snored, which, as an answer, was unsatisfying.
She said, I got a job today.
He sat up straight so fast she thought he would go through the roof.
Doing what exactly?
Was that approbation she heard? Disapproval? Disgust? Indifference? She couldn’t tell. Everything sounded the same with him.
Corner store, she said. I’m going to man the cash register.
He narrowed his eyes at her. You’re sure you’re up for that?
Of course I’m up for it. What kind of question is that?
Well, it can be a complicated job, cash registers. A lot of buttons and stuff. You have to learn codes.
It’s the corner store, she said. The only product they’re guaranteed to sell out of every month is toilet paper. It’s not rocket surgery.
Hmph, he said. Womanning the cash register.
What?
You said you were going to be manning it. You’re not a man. It’s sexist. You’re going to be womanning the cash register.
I just find that a little bit ironic, she said, and when he asked why, she wouldn’t tell him.
She hadn’t been joking.
She said, I wasn’t joking.
He was eating the spinach, but it was a complicated way of eating the spinach, one that involved a knife and fork. He looked up at her with a long stem dangling from his mouth as though he were a cat who had just caught an alien mouse.
Joking about what, he said.
That I’m pregnant, she said. I told you I was joking, but actually I wasn’t.
Why, he said. Why would you do that.
She shrugged. Defense mechanism.
No, I don’t mean that. Why would you be pregnant?
Well, it happens, Punch. It’s not an unheard of phenomenon.
No, I don’t mean that, he said again, I don’t mean that, why aren’t you paying attention? Our lives are so perfect, Judy, so very very perfect. Why would you go and do a thing like getting pregnant, and mess everything up?
She sat and stared at him for so long that eventually he returned to his spinach, and the sound of the knife scraping against the plate as he slowly, laboriously, needlessly cut it into bite size pieces sent her over the edge. She threw the plate at him first, then the silverware. Then dessert, because that was the order she’d been going to serve in. Then the decanter, which held apple juice, because it wasn’t good to drink when you were expecting. Then the rest of the tea tray. Then the side table. Then she went through the double doors into the kitchen and started from there, propping the kitchen doors open with one of her shoes. She threw the other one at him, just to get things started. Then the tea pot, the sauce pans one by one, her mother’s hand-knitted dish towels, three tins of beans from the pantry, the entire contents of the silverware drawer, and a priceless blender from Pampered Chef which had cost her three hundred and ninety dollars and tax. Finally she wheeled the kitchen island out through the doors and shoved it in his direction; it was heavy, and she couldn’t get much momentum, so it trundled towards him like a dim-witted pet, stopping just shy of his knees.
What, he said. What. What did I say.
I hate being pregnant in the summer, she said.
We should go to the lake, he said, with unexpected kindness, and then followed up with expected ferocity, You’re the size of a boat, and the shape of a boat, and I have a theory I’d like to test out.
This is your fault too, she said. Why do I have to suffer for it when it’s your fault too?
I abdicate all responsibility, he said, returning to his newspaper. As far as I’m concerned it was immaculate conception.
She snatched the newspaper from his hand. Immaculate conception, my arse, she said.
He blinked up at her. No, you can’t get pregnant that way.
She went and had a hamburger. It seemed like the thing to do.
I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you, she said.
He held her hand with a desperate grip, and his white knuckles burned lights into her skull.
Don’t die, he said. Don’t die.
This, now, she said. This is a family.
He looked over at her, and the baby looked too as he dandled him on his knee. A solemn little thing. Had the eyes of an owl, and gave you the impression he was looking over teensy little spectacles. She was immensely proud, and also a little frightened.
This is a conglomeration, or agglomeration, of two souls who have made a mutual commitment to each other, to provide for each others’ physical and emotional needs as well as seeking to support the continued population explosion of their shared country by producing offspring, not to say spawn, he said dryly.
That’s what I said, she said. A family. That’s exactly what I said.
I know, he said, and his eyes were wise and fathomless. I heard you the first time.