Nick Gets Lost (Socks XXXV)

Dad left the room, a door shut.
"Libbey?"
"Boys! Where's Nick?"
"Under the couch, last I saw."
Looking through the legs of the coffee table to see the TV, Nick hoped to see Oprah. A court show was on now. The people kept talking over each other. Nick could make no sense of their conversation. He was glad objects weren't as rude as people. Except dimes, those condescending bigots.
A broken, mute, potato chip was the only object under here, Nick had to get back to the purse. He scooted just past the edge of the couch.
The phone rang.

Change of Plans (Socks XXXIV)

Dad set the purse on the couch and started replacing the strewn contents. Lipstick, a compact, a hairbrush. He picked five pieces of silverware from the floor, holding them in the light of the front window.
"Mom, we have to do something about this."
Libbey was wedged in the bottom of the purse. The wallet now covered her. She was alone.
"I'll return these to the restaurant, and explain to the manager."
"Thanks Dad."
Dad held the Gylegreys out. "What should I do with these?"
"Put them in my purse. I was going to drop them off after lunch, but..."

Deception (Socks XXXIII)

The purse was moving, swinging. Mom kept drawing white tissues out. The purse was flying, slamming to a stop. There was a roar and a squeal. The purse was thrown off the seat, picked up, swinging fast again, flying, then finally stopped, crashing in front of the TV. The twins, the wallet, the silverware, Nick, and most of the stuff in the purse scattered from the doorway to the easy chair. Mom, cussing, kicked the wallet. The wallet bumped Nick. Nick slid under the couch.
Dad came down the hall. "What's wrong."
"That bitch Sarah. She set me up again."

Search Me (Socks XXXII)

"Ma'am, would you come with me, please."
"Why?"
"I need to talk with you."
"I don't think so."
Rar was put back in the purse, the wallet over him.
"You can talk here."
"I didn't want to do this here, but may I look in your purse, Ma'am?"
"I don't think you need to look in my purse."
"The waiter says my silverware in your purse."
"What are you saying?"
"Ma'am, let's not have a scene."
"I don't like your tone, young man. I didn't steal your silverware."
"Ma'am, your meal is free this time, but please, don't come back."

Telltale Fork (Socks XXXI)

Rar grabbed one of the forks in a frantic effort to stay in the purse. Mom pulled the wallet, Rar, and the fork into the air.
Rar could see the purse still on the floor next to the table. He let the fork fall back in the purse, it clanked against the other silverware.
"What was that noise?"
"I don't know."
"It sounded like silverware to me."
"I didn't hear anything."
"Did you put the silverware in your purse again?"
"Do you want to get us banned from this place too?"
"If you biddies don't believe me, check my purse."

Libbey (Socks XXX)

Lar stepped in thinking there was going to be trouble.
"Don't worry, me and this old fart were just kidding. Having fun."
"Who you calling old? I'd flat wear you out."
"Nickel, please."
All four burst into laughter.
When the ruckus died down Libbey told of her experiences. Coffee, soup, and pudding.
Clam chowder and a hot bath afterwards was her favorite.
Nick recalled some of the food that he had helped trade for.
The Gylgreys showed Libbey their wounds. She was very impressed just as Nick had predicted.
The purse moved and the wallet left pulling Rar with it.

Jocularity (Socks XXIX)

"Who's this pretty little thing?"
"Nick, this is Libbey. Libbey, this is old enough to be your grandpa."
"Take it easy, I was just being friendly."
"Don't bother asking, I have no idea what I'm worth."
"I like you, you have spunk. Where you from?"
"Don't know."
"Say's China back here. You don't look Asian."
"Don't be lookin' back there! Eyes front, Nick."
"What did I tell ya, boys. This one has metal. "
The twins watched the exchange between the other two.
"Libbey, lets you and me rub together, make some sparks"
"I would rub that 1973 right off."

Name That Spoon (Socks XXVIII)

"Hi. I'm Lar this is Rar. What's your name?"
All was silent.
"Hi? I didn't know I could do that," said a spoon.
"You mean talk?"
"Yea, talk. Talk. I think I like to talk."
"So?"
"So what?"
"What's your name?"
I don't know. Do I need one?"
"Let's give her a name, Lar."
"OK. Turn around, let's have a look."
"Read this, Lar."
"Libbey Freedom."
"That's your name. Libbey. Libbey Freedom."
"Right. Call me Ms Freedom. No, call me Libbey."
"Well Libbey, you need an education."
"Come with us, Lib."
"Be ready, Nick's gonna ask you what you're worth."

Family Skeleton (Socks XXVII)

The brothers and the coin talked and laughed all morning. They could tell that the purse had been moving.
Mom removed the Gylgreys from the purse.
"See you latter, Nick."
"Hope so boys."
They were at a round table with a half dozen women, all had gray hair, like Mom.
The twins were passed around the table, each woman massaged and inspected the recovering injuries.
"Perfect."
"Good as new."
"Flawless."
Lar and Rar loved the attention and the petting. When they got back to the purse some new occupants had come to visit. Two knives, two forks, and two spoons.

More Of Nick (Socks XXVI)

"Pleased to meet you, Rar."
Nick was glad to see Lar, glad to have an audience for his wisdom.
Lar warned Nick on the hazards of mice.
Rar told about Oprah.
Nick liked Oprah. He had been in a pocket when he and four other coins made their escape. They had remained under the cushions for a month. Nick worked his way to the front partly to get a peek at Oprah. Mostly to get away from the only other talker in the couch, a dime.
Upon inspection of the healing wounds, Nick pronounced the twins lucky.
"Chicks dig scars."

Back To Health (Socks XXV)

The boys turned their backs to one another. They woke to some guy talking about weather and one hundred year old people.
Mom picked up Lar and looked at his heal. When she set him back down the twins were face to face.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Sleep good?"
"Yea. You?"
"Didn't mean it, bro."
"Me neither."
After breakfast Mom and Dad sat on the couch. Mom darned Lar's heal, heedless of Lar's moans. "How's that feel?"
"Great, words can't describe."
Mom massaged Lar's stitches and put the pair back in the purse.
"Come on down, I want you to meet Nick."

A Tiff (Socks XXIV)

The twins hung out on the couch talking way past midnight. Lar was resolved to not complain about his heel.
Lar told of his near escape.
Rar told about Oprah.
Lar wondered how Nick would have handled the mouse.
Rar said how good it was to see his brother again.
Lar recounted the tales of Nick.
Rar talked concerning Mom's "stories."
Lar relayed Nick's wisdom.
Rar reported on Mom's stitching skills.
Lar chronicled Nick's adventures.
Rar spilled the beans about Mom and Dad on the couch.
Lar hoped to see Nick again.
"Is Nick your total conversation?"
"Is Mom yours?"

Forced Empathy (Socks XXIII)

Dad drew a glass of water and noticed that Lar had been moved. He picked him up, seeing the bite mark on his heel and the black rice kernels next to the toaster.
He rummaged in a drawer and set a trap.
"Mom, you've got more mending to do. Those damn mice are back."
"Not again."
Lar got put on the couch next to Rar .
"Sorry that I ditched you when your toe was hurtin', Rar."
"That's alright, Bro. How's the heel?"
"Hurts. Like a son-of a-bitch."
"Mom will fix you, she's good. Look at my toe, it feels great."

Close Call (Socks XXII)

When night fell Rar was still on the couch. On the TV people sang, a guy told them that they shouldn't.
When the house got quiet a mouse with a very fat belly came from behind the refrigerator. Sniffing across the counter eating crumbs, she crawled down inside the toaster. Lar could hear nibbling.
When the mouse came out she chewed on a bread wrapper until she spotted Lar. She dashed over to Lar and sniffed his heel. Grabbing Lar with her teeth, she pulled him toward the back of the refrigerator. She dropped Lar when the light came on.

P.M. Delight (Socks XXI)

Rar stayed in the living room while Mom watched Oprah.
A pair of calloused furrowed hands, Dad's, held Rar, rubbing his tender spot. He put Rar on the back of the couch.
Dad put his calloused hands on Mom's shoulders, kneading.
"Ooh, Aah."
A shirt settled atop Rar, blocking his view. He could hear noises. Smacking, slurping, giggling. The couch was moving. What the hell was going on out there.
The shirt was removed from Rar.
Mom's hair was down on one side and she was laughing.
She told Dad that he still had it.
Rar wanted to see it.

On The Mend (Socks XX)

"Ever see Doc again? "
"Nope, but that's the way things work."
Lar and Nick talked all night and into the morning.
Lar learned new words. Purse, wallet, license, and keys just to name a few.
A slightly wrinkled version of the nice lady's hands clipped the excess string from Lar's toe and put him on the counter.
Mom took Rar to the living room turning on Guiding Light. With needle and thread she deftly repaired Rar's toe. Stitching and pulling and tying, it all felt so good to Rar.
The pain nearly gone, he knew he would be healed.

Rescue (Socks XIX)

When water poured in, Doc would float around, laughing and howling, settling in a different place.
One day a white sphere with red stitching bounded in and startled Nick. Next to come in was a long thin arm. The hand felt around, snatched Doc, and pulled him out. The hand came back, grabbed Nick, then finally the sphere.
Nick got put in a pocket with some dimes.
This made Lar laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"Dimes? You hate dimes."
"I got traded for a candy bar right away."
"What's the point?"
"The point is Lar, be careful if you play Hedzurtales."

A Doc In The House (Socks XVIII)

Clunk.
Nick landed on a metal cylinder.
"Ouch."
"Sorry mister."
"That's Doctor, Doctor Pepper."
"Pleased to meet ya, Doc. I'm Nick Cole. How much you worth?" That was the first questions Nick asked anyone that would talk.
"Ten cents, five some places, and nothing other places."
Nick felt baffled , he was always worth five.
Nick tried talking to a shoe and a bottle cap, like most items they were both mute.
Once a smoldering tube dropped in. She talked until her red glow went out. Doc checked her, nothing could be done. They said a prayer for her soul.

Acrobatics (Socks XVII)

Nick liked to play a game called Hedzurtales. He would spin through the air so fast he would get dizzy, involuntary pinging. He tried to imitate the sound, but it wasn't very loud. Then he would land in a palm and quickly move to the back of a hand.
Sometimes he would end up in a different pocket after the game.
Once while playing Hedzurtales, houses going by on one side, cars on the other, Nick hit the thumb instead of the palm. Nick went flying, bouncing. He landed on a piece of metal, falling through one of the holes.

Trading (Socks XVI)

Nick had been lots of places. Bunches of times he had slid down a tunnel, falling into a pile of coins. Immediately, he would hear bumping noises nearby. Nick had the feeling that he had been traded for something. Nick said that Lar couldn't fit through the slot to the tunnel.
Nick got dropped in a tin cup once. Lar thought that sounded fun.
Nick's favorite thing was when a wrinkled hand would place him into a youthful, chubby hand. When that happened, he would be gripped tightly and directly traded for bubble gum.
"That would be cool," Lar said.

The Philosopher (Socks XV)

Much wisdom was gleaned from Nick, man of the world, round flat sage.
According to Nick:
1. Pennies are humble and useful. One can trade them for thoughts, a great value indeed.
2. Quarters, worth 25, never look down on the other coins.
3. Dimes are an enormous pain-in-the-ass.
3a. Being smaller, with a Napoleon Complex they constantly remind nickels of the
value difference.
3b. Dimes are bigots. They scorn pennies because of their color difference.
4. A now rare coin depicts a woman carrying something, Nick thought she carried a sack of
joe- we-ahs.
He didn't know any Bills personally.

A New Friend (Socks XIV)

The boys were folded and slid into a big leather pouch.
Lar worked his way to the bottom of the pouch trying to get away, Rar kept bitching about his toe.
Down there in the dark he met Nick Cole, an intelligent, gregarious fellow with stories.
Nick claimed to have been in circulation since 1973, whatever that meant. He professed to have a value of five, and could be traded for stuff. Lately he need more and more help to get the same kind of stuff. Maybe as a result of getting older.
Lar was confused by, yet liked Nick.

Surgery (Socks XIII)

Snip.
Rar felt pain. Pain in his toe. He screamed. He couldn't sense his brother. Where was Lar?
"LAR! LAR!"
"I'm right here," Lar calmed his twin.
"What happened?"
"We've been separated."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"I want to be with you, Lar."
"I think we'll stay together."
"That hurt like hell."
Lar had felt no pain. Not physical pain.
"Mom, look at this. I cut a hole in this one. Shit."
"That can be fixed."
"He's gonna be so pissed. Shit."
"I'll take it home and do it."
"Shit."
"I have grey thread, he'll never know."
"Thanks Mom. Shit."

Vocabulary lesson (Socks XII)

"Ding-dong"
"Anybody home?"
"Come in Mom."
The twins remained on the counter as Pretty Shanks and Mom sat at the table sipping from steaming cups, talking.
Pretty cried and Mom hugged her.
The vocabulary of the Gylegreys grew. That day they learned the words counselor, affair, lawyer, and asshole.
"Why are these socks on the counter?"
"I need to cut a thread holding the toes together."
"Let me help."
Mom held Lar. Rar was blissfully held by Pretty Shanks. Ignorant of the coming events, they could feel the tug at their toes.
They didn't until then, know the word scissors.

An Argument (Socks XI)

The Gylegreys spent the night on the arm of the couch and the next day, were carried back to the well lit room. They recognized some of the browns and blacks, but none of the unvoiced greys remained. They were carried back to the couch.
“Why the hell didn’t you return those today?”
“That color is discontinued.”
“Everything’s a chore for you, isn’t it?”
“I’ll fix it.”
"Ok Suzie Homemaker, I'm going to Phil's for a beer."
The twins were placed on the counter. Gentle hands pulled them apart so that the single string conjoining their toes became slightly taut.

Fascination (Socks X)

"These are good socks, I'll exchange them tomorrow."
"Get the same color. Think you can get that right?"
Footsteps left the room, a door slammed, a car started.
The soft hands hung the twins on the arm of the couch. Lar on one side, Rar on the other while the nice lady read a book. When she curled her feet up on the couch Rar got a good look at her ankles. He named her Pretty Shanks.
While reading Pretty Shanks fell asleep, giving Rar ample time to admire her ankles, toes, heels, soles, and arches. Rar was in love.

The Insult (Socks IX)

On a warm, sunny day the rough hands shredded the paper band surrounding the brothers. The single string between their toes prevented him from completely separating them.
Holding Lar by the heel, Rar dangling, swinging in a circle, the man said, "What the hell kind of shoddy crap do you buy?"
The brothers flew across the room and landed on the nice ladies lap.
"If you're gonna buy second rate shit like that, don't bother." The deep voice spat.
Rar was pissed. The man evidently didn't know top quality. Lar ignored the man. The man evidently didn't know top quality.

Christmas (Socks VIII)

The delicate hands covered the twins in festive colored paper then put them in a soft enclosure. They felt a kinship to the enclosure. Like being safe in mother's arms.
Surrounded by the smells of mints, chocolate, and pine, music played almost constantly. Lar liked the joyful music, but Rar had heard enough the first week.
The day came when a pair of rough hands released the twins from their colored paper tomb and tossed them atop a green sweater. A pair of boxers soon covered them.
After an hour the soft hands placed the twins in the top drawer.

Genesis and Exodus (Socks VII)

Abruptly, Lar and Rar became conscious, a prickly, binding sensation in their toes. In a pile of others of their kind, they talked. The others did not.
Youthful, yet calloused hands picked up Lar and one of the voiceless, but a string conjoined the twins at their toes. The mute was dropped back on the pile. Folded together, a paper band cinched the twins.
The twins experienced cardboard boxes, saltwater smells, road noises, and finally a well lit room. They were handled, compared, to browns, blacks, or whites. But always rejected, until...
Really soft hands touched, caressed, and chose them.

Three Sixty Degrees (Socks VI)

After months of dinners and pig noises with Ms. Stubbly Lar and Rar Gylegrey could hear arguments. Grunter, as Rar called him, threatened to leave. This worried the brothers, they would not see Pretty Shanks anymore. Then an errant toss separated the twins. Lar got back to the drawer, but not Rar.
One day there was yelling outside the drawer. The drawer flew open and the socks and underwear were removed and put in a cardboard box. All except Lar, he was thrown back in. Grunter said "Where's my other grey argyle?"
Lar was in the empty drawer alone, crying.

Settling The Score (Socks v)

There were many other dinners with Ms Stubbly. Most times the Gylegrey brothers rested on the floor while the fornicators made their stupid noises.
Once Lar got to stay on the living room floor, but Rar had to rub against those chubby ankles. Man did her feet stink.
That was all Rar could take, he intended revenge.
The next time Pretty Shanks cleaned them and put them in the drawer Rar flew into action. He grabbed a loose sliver from the drawer and shoved it down his middle.
The splinter stuck in the arch of the butthead's right foot.
Justice.

Interloper (Socks IV)

Rar was surly. He preferred to warm the right foot, the left had a creepy bunion, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the other ankles under the table.
Had they stayed under the table, he would have been only slightly irritated. The man had forced the Gylegreys to rub around under the covers with those thick, unshaven ankles. He should have had the decency to put them on the floor while he grunted and snorted with Ms Stubbly. Rar muttered, "Why won't he let us rub around with Mrs. Pretty Shanks?" They both liked the noises Pretty made.

A Casting Change (socks III)

Lar and Rar went everywhere together, board meetings, parties, even the gym. They stayed in the locker while the Tube brothers took over. They really liked going to dinner. They both liked the nice smooth ankles on the other side of the table, but Rar was infatuated. He called her Mrs. Pretty Shanks. Rar got most excited when he got tossed in the hamper. He knew that soon she would wash, dry, fold, and put him in the drawer. One day at dinner Rar was quiet and moody. The other ankles under the table weren't as smooth, not as pretty.

Rar gets lost (socks II)

Lar Gylegrey missed his twin bother. They worked together, keeping the feet warm, stopping the shoes from causing a blister, or soaking up sweat. A month ago they went flying across the room. Lar went into the basket, Rar fell behind the dresser. That lazy son-of-a-bitch saw it and didn’t rescue Rar. Now he say’s that the nice lady lost him. He’s just trying to pick a fight.
When she pulled Lar from the hamper he tried to tell her that Rar was missing, but he got folded up in a pair of pants and she couldn’t hear him.

Life With the Dust Bunnies

2-25-07
I heard you yelling at her, you said "where's my other grey argyle?" Then you called her names and made her cry. You thought that she lost me in the laundry, didn't you? I'm here behind the dresser, dumb ass. You missed the basket. That was a month ago, remember?
Now, I don't mind keeping your feet warm, that's my job, but you leave her alone. I like her. You're probably just jealous because your wife puts her...warm... soft...smooth...hands on me as she takes me from the washer to the dryer.

begin

The Idea for this blog came from a flash fiction workshop facilitated by Jeff VandeZande and Josh Maday. Josh and Matt Bell each posted a one hundred words every day for at least one year. I intend to post every day for a year. I won't hold myself to one hundred words if the story needs a few more. I may post fiction, a tale from my past, an account of a dream, or maybe a poem. I might put an idea out and ask that someone flesh it out. I won't mind if you tell me that I suck, just tell me why.