Flashes II
by Mary Maclaren
Copyright 2012
ISBN No.9781476130507
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Swanee
New Year's Eve
Jimmy Giraffe
Temper Temper
Big Is Beautiful
Baby Bella
Haiku
About The Author
Extracts
The Four Elizabeths
Elizabeth's New Life
World War 2 Memory
THE SWANEE
I remember singing with my classmates, "Way Down Upon The Swanee..." and on that high note, the drone of a doodlebug bomb stopped abruptly. In what appeared to be ages to us nine-year olds, we held our breath. The doodlebug bomb landed with a loud explosion in the road directly outside the school, but what I remember most, is the uncanny silence after it exploded.
Still silent, we all looked around and then at each other. A split second later came the terrible wind rush that emanates from such an explosion, and we all started screaming. Teachers fought desperately to line us up and lead us out into the daylight made darker by the still falling debris. Most of my classmates followed the crocodile, in total shock.
All the mothers were already rattling the school gates and screaming out the names of their children. Every day the authorities would place a sign on these gates, informing if school was to be run or not. Once all the children were inside, the gates were locked for fear of students wandering away and being unaccounted for in such an emergency.
When we reached the door and took a deep breath, the smoke and smell of burning set a lot of us coughing painfully. Then the panic set in and the screaming escalated. I remember running around the playground yelling, "Hitler's killed my sister!"
Pat was in a class lower and those pupils were in a different shelter room. The canteen cook captured me from my demented circuit and I was plunged into the warmth of her bosom. "It's all right. It's all right," she said, stroking my head, but I was very hard to convince.
Luckily, it was all right. My sister escaped with a piece of glass embedded in her scalp, but otherwise survived unscathed.The big iron gates were unlocked and the children ran to their mothers. My mother didn't have to look for me. She told me later that she could hear me screaming above everyone else, declaring my own little war on Hitler, because he'd killed my sister!
Her head wound was soon attended to and we were taken home. But I don't remember giving my pink cardigan to the only little girl who was fatally injured. Apparently, I said to the ambulance man tending her, “Put that under her head so she can rest.”
I do remember that awful silence between the rocket's engine stopping, and the explosion when it landed.
****
NEW YEAR'S EVE
Many jaded people comment, “Well, there goes another year!” Tired Mums clear away Christmas wrap and say, “Thank Heavens for that. We’re not going to all this trouble, next year!” And of course, they will.
Weary hospital medical staff take down the tinsel draped over the bed of the patient that has just died. People try to drum up enthusiasm at the New Year Party they are attending, but it is just too much…
Then the fireworks begin! Myriad sparks of red, green, blue, silver, gold, orange, shimmering stars that rocket high into the air burst and cascade towards earth again. Fast firing bangers shatter the gloom with repeated staccato, and squeals of delight rent the smoky atmosphere. Green diamonds arch through golden falls of chrysanthemum bursts and shafts of white light power their way ahead of glittering trails.
Someone points to the sky. “Oh, look, look! Chinese Lanterns.”
Hundreds of yellow and orange lights float across the velvet sky, some hastening their flight as they meet a thermal, others progress slowly, as if parading their beauty for all below to admire.
“Has something to do with Good Luck for the New Year,” explains someone.
“Hope one floats over me, then,” laughs someone else.
But slowly the noise abates and only the Chinese Lanterns glow in their majesty as the crowd becomes silent in admiration.
A low voice says, “Happy New Year, everybody,” and the local Silver Band strikes up the familiar chords of Auld Lang Syne. A symbolic determination fills the crowd as they all cross and join hands while they sing the popular refrain.
The New Year begins!
****
One for the children...
JIMMY THE GIRAFFE
Hello, my name is Jimmy. Such a clever name for a giraffe, don't you think? No comment? Ah well, here comes another boring day! At least it isn't raining. The rain has such a long way to run down my neck it gives me the shudders by the time it gets down to my legs. My legs never get wet however. By the time the rain approaches my knobbly knees it's evaporated. I'll bet you tiny uprights down there wish you could say that.
I know you are talking about me, because your wiggly appendages are pointing towards me and I do understand a lot of your weird language. I mean, "isn't he tall?" is a comment I've heard often enough to learn it myself, except my tongue gets in the way. Every time I try to say something back to you uprights, my tongue flops out and you scream and yell something about 'saliva!'
For goodness sake, I'm only trying to say 'hello'. Can't you understand that?
In a way, uprights are very lucky. They can just hold a cup or a can in those wiggly appendages and a drink pours into their mouths. Me? I have to do the splits almost, and bend my neck low enough to reach the trough of water. And every sip I take has to run uphill so far, it loses its way!
The uprights I really don't like are those that flash a light in my eyes. I can hardly see anything afterwards, and I've learned that the easiest way out of it is to just turn and walk away. I have to be careful not to walk into anything though, because I might fall down and that can be fatal for us giraffes. We can't stand up again by ourselves and that results in using that horrific machine with the big claws. So undignified, don't you think?
I have lots of relatives, of course. Some in zoo pounds, some in open areas dedicated to giraffes, and even some in a nursery, just near Birmingham. They’ve been cleverly made from metal. I think it is unfortunate that they have gone rusty, but I’m told this is on purpose as it adds to the ’art’. I don’t quite know about that, but uprights seem to love it. Anyhow, my metal relatives are visited often, even when it's raining.
One lady visitor caught sight of three statues of my sisters, peeking out from behind a bamboo plant. Silly woman shrieked and frightened all the little uprights nearby, so the garden owner threatened to remove all the tin animals. Luckily, he saw sense, and the area is still very popular I'm from Africa, of course, but I did hear about one of my relatives in Australia. Seems one of the zoo managers there had been experimenting and obtained quite a few 'modern abstract paintings by giving the elephants brushes and tins of paint. So he decided to give my cousin (George) a brush and a can of paint which he lifted up onto a trestle thing. Everybody knows of course, that Giraffe's don't paint, but he was hoping George would copy his elephant mate. Well, he got as far as holding the brush between his big teeth and tongue, dipped the brush into the large tray of paint provided and as he lifted it up to use on the wall, his saliva made it slip and it landed splat on the zoo manager's head. George was made to try again, but by the time his long neck had lifted the brush up high enough, all the paint had dried so the experiment failed miserably.
Oh well, let's wander back again to see what the uprights are doing.
Ooh, there's a group of little uprights wiggling their appendages at me. I'll wander over and put my head over the wire fence so I can talk with them, maybe. They are busy looking from me to that tall upright with them. She has a silk scarf around her neck. I know... I'll give the little ones a laugh and lip it away from her neck. Did I hear right, then?
"Give me back my scarf, you pesky animal!"
I'll nudge her head with my sticky tongue and ask, "You talking 'bout me?"
****
TEMPER TEMPER
I'll never forget it. Floods of tears tumbled as I laughed at my husband's antics. He'd lost his temper at the mess left by the cat when chasing a mouse that had dared to enter her domain .
"I'll strangle that cat!" he yelled. He was trying to crank open the door to chase her out, but it was jammed.. He gave the doorknob an almighty yank, it came off, and he landed on the floor with a bump.
"Stop laughing you idiot!" he bellowed as he stood up. "Help me with this damned door."
I spluttered, "You would have different feelings if you found mouse droppings over your supper."
He stopped, stared at me then slid down the wall. Then he threw his arm across his eyes and wept. "Oh, God, I'll have to go to those anger-management lessons."
Next day, I visited the library and the assistant said, "Your husband was in here a little while ago" I said nothing, but thought how unusual it was, him not being a book-reader.
"He came in and asked me to get him a book about Anger Management, then yelled , 'and be quick about it!"
****
BIG IS BEAUTIFUL
"I've done what?"
Jilly juggled her cabin bag and balanced her wet suitcase against her knee while she fumbled for cash to pay the taxi-driver. Pleased as she was to back to her country cottage after a disastrous week in Wales, she wished she hadn't brought the Welsh rain with her. To top it off, her sister Kelly chose that moment to ring her mobile and was literally screaming down the line at her.
"You've won the competition!"
"Keep the change," Jilly said to the driver. He tipped his forehead and drove off as she pulled open the trolley handle at the back of her case. She hoisted her cabin bag more securely on hershoulder, and lugged her case through the gate and up the flagstone path.
"Hang on, Kelly, until I get inside, please," she begged and popped the mobile phone into her pocket. She could still hear Kelly... a tiny, excited voice at fever pitch as she hurried to the porch. The key to the front door of the pretty cottage in South England was in her other pocket. Jilly let herself in, and dumped her case and cabin bag without ceremony onto the tiled hallway floor. She extracted the mobile phone from her pocket and leaned against the wall
Kelly was still shouting. "Jilly, Jilly, are you there? JILLY!"
"Calm down," instructed Jilly breathlessly, "Let me catch my breath, f'goodness sake. Now, what's all the fuss...what competition?"
Finally, having her sister's full attention, Kelly spilled over with the news that a competition they had both entered in the local newspaper had been judged and Jilly's entry was pronounced the winner in this morning's edition. Entrants had been asked to write twenty-five words about the item of clothing they would most like to possess. It was sponsored by a department store in the local town, and while they were having coffee after a day's shopping there, Jilly and Kelly had enjoyed filling in the form.
Kelly had a sylphlike figure and Jilly was the complete opposite. Giggling and teasing each other like a couple of schoolgirls, they'd exchanged their entries and read them before putting them into the provided barrel at the store's entrance. Kelly had written she would love a rose-coloured linen suit to go to her friend's imminent wedding. Jilly had written, "Because I am so big, I would love to find a pretty aqua blue bra and panties to match. Hard to find in my size."
Kelly shrieked with laughter when she read Jilly's effort, and they had spent the rest of the afternoon inspecting the lingerie department, just to see what was available. "See what I mean?" Jilly said. “Most of the nice things only go to a size fourteen. What hope have I got?"
The trip to Wales had proved disastrous, because she'd gone to meet a man she'd befriended on the Internet, hoping there would be a budding relationship. However, he was late meeting her at the coach station. She'd stood for over an hour in the merciless rain and when he did arrive, he said with his Welsh lilt, "Ay... you're a big girl, inn you? I'll take you to a hotel and ring you tomorrow. I've got to meet the boys down the pub now." He dropped her at the hotel entrance, and waving cheerily, drove off.
"Well, thanks a lump," Jilly mumbled and went inside to book a room. She signed in, accepted the keys to her room, went up in the lift, and as soon as she got in, she made arrangements to return home the next day. "Of all the nerve," she muttered, towelling her hair with more vigour than really needed. "What's happened to chivalry and romance these days?” Then his words, 'big girl, inn you?' rang through her memory and she gave a resigned sigh. "O'course," she told her reflection in the mirror, "he only saw your face online, didn't he?"
"Jilly! Are you still there, Jilly? Answer me,. Aren't you excited?" Kelly's voice brought her back to earth, and she said, "How about you pop round, Kelly? We can talk about it."
"Talk about it? Aren't you even a little bit excited? By the way, how did the big meet go?"
"I wish you hadn't put it that way, Kel, but come around to my place and well talk about everything."
"Okay! I'm on my way."
Jilly sighed, put her phone on the hallway table and picked up her case to take into her bedroom. She smiled at the big white bear on her bed and said, "You love me, don't you, Boris?” The jet black eyes seemed to twinkle, and as Jilly plonked the case on the bed to empty, he slid graciously sideways staring at her. "Don't look at me like that, Boris, I know when I'm beaten."
An hour later, she let Kelly in and the sisters hugged. "Come on, put the kettle on, I want to hear all about everything. I thought you'd be away for a few days?"
Before Jilly had a chance to tell Kelly all about the Welsh disaster, the only conversation was about the competition. "How come the result was in the newspaper?" Jilly queried. "They should have sent me a letter or something."
"They did," bounced Kelly, "only remember? You said you'd put my address in case the result came through when you were away. Here's the letter."
Jilly remembered and nodded as she took the daintily edged letter from Kelly. It had come from "Helena's Lingerie", a section within the department store.
'You are invited to choose any underwear set from our store with our compliments, and to
congratulate you on your winning entry which appealed immensely to the judges. We are here to
prove that you can get a pretty bra and panties in your size, although we cannot guarantee the
colour you chose. Please make an appointment before you come so we can afford you special
attention.'
"I'm not going on parade just so they can get publicity," Jilly declared.
"But you won the prize," Kelly said in dismay
"Okay, you be me then, and next time I want something, you can pay for it!"
"What about my size? Surely they'll query my entry?"
"Probably won't even refer to it." Kelly brushed away that thought, but Jilly wasn't convinced. After a lot of argument, it was agreed that Kelly would make the appointment and pretend to be Jilly which worked perfectly. Kelly was treated and feted, had her photograph taken by the department store, and said all the right things in the right places. She ended up with a gorgeous set of apricot coloured underwear and was even persuaded to model 'her' prize.
Jilly sat on the satin boudoir chair provided, looking and feeling most uncomfortable. However, she was so pleased to see her little sister getting all the attention and watched everything keenly. She didn't notice the tall and well-dressed Manager approach her. He bent low and whispered, "I'm betting you wish you had won the prize?"
Jilly
smiled nervously and rambled on about all the beautiful stock her sister had to choose from. The Manager said quietly, "I happen to think that big is beautiful. Would you like to come with me, please? I have something to show you."
'Yeah, right!' Jilly thought, but when she looked up at him, something in his eyes made her get up and follow him.
He walked behind the displays, and spoke with another lingerie assistant. "Would you like to take this young lady and confirm her correct size, please?"
"Yes, of course, Mr Hanlon. Come this way, Miss, please."
Some time later, Jilly and Kelly were back at the cottage, sipping tea and chattering about their experience at the department store earlier. The table was littered with bags, labels and lace. "Wasn't that nice of Mr Hanlon to organise that for you," said Kelly, nodding towards a very large size bra and pants set. It was a beautiful sky blue and lacy.
"Guess so," said Jilly, slightly embarrassed.
"I wonder what made him do that?"
Jilly smiled secretly and said, "Drink your tea, you minx. We've both won the competition." She didn't add that Mr Hanlon, "call me Ray," had not only arranged for her to have a set of lacy lingerie as well, he had asked her to join him for dinner at the weekend.
****
Now another one for the littlies…
BABY BELLA
Baby Bella was a beautiful soft woolly lamb. Her fleece was white, her nose was black, and she thought she was the best lamb in the flock.
Flossie, a clever sheep dog, had herded the ewes and lambs in the paddock for the night, but Baby Bella decided she didn't want to be fenced in.
"I am too beautiful to be crowded in," she bleated to her mother. "I'm going to be free and wander the fields of buttercups."