Copyright (c) 2012-2014 JukePop, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author or JukePop, Inc., except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
www.jukepop.com
Discovered on:
A Sublime Beginning
Charles checks his wristwatch. Then he checks the clock on the wall to make sure it’s telling the same time as his wristwatch. The two are in sync.
Charles walks over to the window and looks out. The blue hour. Okay then.
He goes to the table where everything is laid out and repeats the checklist.
Pretzels, chips, dip, gummy worms, champagne, and sparkling non-alcoholic cider.
Will the gummy worms look better, that is have a greater visual impact, if placed between the champagne and the sparkling non-alcoholic cider?
Charles shifts the bowl containing the gummy worms and recites aloud:
Pretzel, chips, dip, champagne, gummy worms, and sparkling non-alcoholic cider.
Yes definitely better.
Charles cracks his knuckles then checks his wrist-watch again. His thought—where is she?—coincides with the ringing of the doorbell.
Charles sucks in air, exhales big, and gives the lapels of his blazer a self-assured tug as he goes to the door. Opens it.
Edna, he says, as if there is really a woman at the door.
Satisfied with his rehearsal, Charles returns to the table, fishes out several gummy worms, and nibbles them down.
He reaches under the middle pillow of the sofa and pulls out a compact mirror. He snaps it open and inspects his teeth in the mirror. This time when the doorbell rings he doesn’t go to the door. He snaps the compact mirror shut and slides it back under the pillow. He checks his wristwatch.
Where is she, he wonders, which coincides with the repeated ringing of the doorbell.
Oh, Charles says, his mouth forming a perfect circle.
He follows procedure: the sucking of air, the big exhale, the self-assured tugging of his lapels, the walk to the door, the opening of the door.
Edna, he says, her name a shot out of his mouth.
Hello Charles.
You made it?
I said I was coming, didn’t I?
Yes . . . you . . . please come in.
Charles gestures. Edna enters.
Neck on a swivel, Edna takes in Charles’s apartment.
Gaze fixed, Charles takes in Edna:
Her hair, the color of black cherry, is cut in a bob with sharp angles. Her dark eyes and lashes are magnified by eyeliner and mascara. Her blouse is cream-white with ruffles, her skirt a pale pink lined with what looks like black mohair. Her heels are black with elaborate straps that criss-cross.
Charles trails the slow-walking Edna, who seems to be lost in the throes of a silent appraisal.
Edna may I take your coat?
Edna turns to face Charles and smiles.
If I were wearing one, sure.
Charles grins sheepishly.
Right, right, of course. Your scarf?
Excuse me?
May I take your scarf?
Edna’s fingers lightly graze the dark velvet scarf that is draped stylishly around her neck and shoulders.
I’d like to keep it on. For a while anyway.
I understand.
Charles cuts in front of Edna, and in a voice that he imagines is the voice of a good and proper host, asks—Can I get you something?
Charles shuts his eyes, lowers his head, and slams his palm against his temple repeatedly.
No, no that was all wrong. Can I try again?
Excuse me?
Hold on—Charles says, one finger upraised—just hold on.
Charles backtracks until he is behind Edna then cuts in front of her.
May I get you a snack or beverage?
Better, Charles whispers as an aside, and awaits Edna’s response.
What do you have?
Charles moves confidently in the direction of the table.
Pretzels, chips, dip, champagne, gummy worms, and sparkling non-alcoholic cider.
As Edna considers these choices, Charles repeats, louder and faster:
Pretzelschipsdipchampagnegummywormssparklingnonalcoholiccider.
Impressive. I think . . . let’s go with the cider.
Right.
Charles is about to pour the cider, stops, motions to the sofa:
Please, Edna, have a seat.
Edna smiles and sits, crossing her legs. She places her hands on her lap and looks around.
I imagine I’m the first to arrive?
Charles hands Edna a glass of sparkling non-alcoholic cider.
You imagine correctly.
Thank you Charles.
Edna takes a measured sip.
You’ve got a nice place Charles.
Bare minimum for standard living.
(Good line Charles, remember to use it again in the future.)
Charles stands near the sofa, hands in his trouser-pockets. He bops to and fro to an inside rhythm. Then, pointing:
But this rug . . . I got this from a street bazaar in Morocco.
Really?
Edna looks down at the rug adjacent to the sofa. It is shit-brown with gold tassels.
It’s lovely.
Do you really like it?
I said it’s lovely, didn’t I?
A pause filled with something that doesn’t agree with Charles’s stomach. He places his hand over his abdomen.
Are you okay?
Fine.
You look green in the face Charles. No not green, blue. Actually I can’t tell.
It’s my stomach. Was my stomach. It’s better now.
Charles proves he is better by removing his hand from his abdomen and smiling big. He follows this up with three vigorous jumping jacks.
See, all better.
Winded, Charles keep smiling, fishes out a gummy worm, bites off its head. He holds one out for Edna:
Gummy worm?
No thank you.
Charles eats another gummy worm. And another. Edna watches as Charles puts away almost a dozen gummy worms. Then:
Edna can I be honest with you?
Of course you can Charles. Where’s the bathroom?
Charles points:
Over there. Do you need to use it?
Yes but I can wait until after you’ve told me the truth.
Are you sure?
Yes. Women have stronger bladders then men.
Really? I thought women had weaker bladders then men.
Common misconception. Women are known for childbirth. And filing their nails when nervous.
Is that . . . is that true?
I wouldn’t lie to you Charles.
Yes of course . . . which brings me to . . . Edna this rug . . . I didn’t buy it at a street bazaar in Morocco.
You didn’t?
No.
Why did you say that you did?
It seemed like something to say. Better than: Would you care for some champagne?
I’d love some!
Edna spills her sparkling non-alcoholic cider onto the rug. Then she holds out her glass, smiling.
It’s not Morrocan, Charles mutters under his breath, and pours champagne into Edna’s glass, filling it to the top.
Edna lets her nose hover over the surface of the champagne.
It’s fizzy. The fizz tickl
es my nose.
Edna takes a sip.
Fizzy on the tongue too, Edna speaks with a mouth full of champagne. It leaks out the sides of her mouth and onto her chin.
Charles smiles.
Napkin?
Edna waves him off.
I’m fine.
Edna wipes at her chin with the back of her hand.
Well Edna I guess.
Yes Charles?
Charles doesn’t respond, a puzzled look on his face.
What is it you guess Charles?
I guess . . . oh I guess you should go to the bathroom.
It passed.
Really?
I wouldn’t lie about that Charles.
Edna your honesty is so—
Charles’s hands flail.
Edna, there’s something else.
Charles sucks in air, exhales big.
This isn’t easy to say.
There is no party is there Charles?
No.
You asked me to your apartment because you wanted . . . what is it you wanted Charles?
To see you. Just you.
Charles looks at the clock on the wall then back at Edna.
Are you going to leave?
I haven’t finished my champagne.
When you do?
You worry about the future too much Charles.
I know. Are you mad?
About what?
That I lied to you.
You didn’t lie Charles. You just weren’t completely honest. And I knew there wasn’t any party.
You knew?
No. But when you told me. Yes. Girls get these feelings.
I’ve wondered about that.
Lay your speculation to rest, Chuck-a-loo. We do.
Edna sets her champagne glass on the end table and leans forward.
Charles can I ask you a question?
Of course. Anything.
When you see me working at the flower shop . . . what do you think?
What do I think?
Yes. When you see me. At the flower shop.
What do I think, Charles thinks to himself, what do I think, he thinks, railing against something grainy and dense. Leading to:
Charles’s left hand swings outward, the result of an unforeseen spasm, and he knocks the champagne glass from the end table onto the floor, where it shatters.
Charles and Edna both look down at the shards of glass in a fizzy puddle.
I’m sorry Edna.
Edna violently throws her head back and laughs, exposing the whiteness of her throat: bare and asking.
It’s okay Charles. It’s your glass.
Edna can see that Charles is troubled.
She draws close to Charles, the tip of her nose nearly touching his. She gives his shoulder a squeeze.
You’re all thumbs Charly. All thumbs and knots.
I know.
Charles lowers his head.
Edna tucks her thumb under his chin and lifts his head.
She recites into his face:
Charles, Charly, Chuck, Chaz, Chickles
was all knots and thumbs
except when he….
Again the throat-exposing head-back laugh as Edna sits down.
Charles feels the blood in his face and wonders if the pink is becoming or not.
Edna’s hand gyrates in the air.
Continue Charles. You were going to tell me what you think of when you see me working at the flower shop.
Champagne Rabies for Vintage Lovers
Charles sucks in air, exhales big.
Well Edna . . . I think . . . of flowers.
So sweet. What else?
I think . . . I don’t know.
Should I help you Charles?
Charles nods.
Edna picks up a piece of broken glass and skillfully rotates it between her thumb and forefinger.
Do you ever get hard Charles? Thinking of me at the flower shop?
Charles looks down at his feet. He realizes that he is wearing shoes.
Edna eyes the broken glass between her fingers.
I can’t say Edna.
Look up Charles. Up. Good. Now I want you to tell me the truth?
Really?
I wouldn’t lie about wanting the truth Charles.
Edna can I be perfectly honest with you?
Edna flicks the piece of broken glass and it lands in the pretzel bowl.
I don’t know Charles. Can you?
I want to.
Good.
First, to answer your question. I do get . . . I get . . . thinking of you at the flower shop. Also . . . also I love your style. It’s the 20s right?
Not now, but yes, the style.
And when I come to the flower shop and I see you smile I just . . .
(you’ve rehearsed this a thousand times, Charles, say it , just say it)
I-wanna-rip-your-lips-off-and-preserve-your-smile-in-a-jar-of-formaldehyde.
That’s sweet Charles. Keep going.
Well—
Can you hold that Charles? I gotta pee.
Sure.
Edna rises from the sofa, walks in the direction of the bathroom. Halfway there, she stops, turns around, returns to the sofa, sits down, crosses her legs, places her hands over her lap.
What happened Edna?
It passed.
Again?
Strange bladder I have. You were saying?
Yes I was saying . . . Edna I know I don’t know you very well.
Skip the formalities Charles. Only dulls the edges of complete perfect honesty.
Charles nods.
Edna when I come to the flower shop and see you working . . . the way you the way you handle the flowers . . . I reallyreallyreally wanna blank you.
You wanna blank me?
I can’t say it.
Say what?
What I reallyreallyreally wanna do.
Edna rises, slowly circles Charles.
Should I fill in the blank? Or would you rather fill it in?
Edna gives Charles a two-fingered tap on the cheek. Then she sashays over to the table, picks the piece of glass out of the pretzel bowl, and holds it up to the light.
You know Charles—you’ve got glass in your pretzels. You could really do serious damage to a guest with glass in your pretzels.
Edna laughs loudly and proceeds to swallow the glass.
EDNA, Charles screams and vaults in her direction.
TADA, Edna says, and shows Charles that the glass is still in her hand.
Fooled you good, didn’t I?
Charles smiles the smile of the duped.
You got me Edna.
Edna eyeballs Charles bottom to top.
You know Charles, there’s something about you that’s very . . . yesterday.
Edna deepens her voice:
Come here Charles. Charles I said here. Good. Give me your hand. I said your hand. Look at me Charles. Look at me. I understand okay? About your wanting to blank me.
You do?
I’m a woman Charles. There’s very little I don’t understand.
Wow Edna, that’s great to hear, that’s fantastic. I was scared you might be hurt or offended or wanna throw champagne in my face.
Edna raises an eyebrow and lets go of Charles’s hand. She pours champagne into a glass then whip-splashes the champagne in Charles’ face. Edna breaks out in hysterics.
Charles blinks repeatedly, as if trying to wake up. His face is animated with champagne.
Nursery Bones (The Romance of Charles and Edna) Page 1