Genevieve and the Two Scotties by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Chapter 16

They got back to the fork and made a left on the road furthest right. Genevieve and Pablo walked nonchalantly, enjoying the mild breeze as it stirred up the leaves, bringing them a pleasant fragrance.

They saw two ears poking up from behind a neatly piled stack of autumn leaves. Then they saw the whole head of a pug.

Then they saw nothing, as the head ducked completely behind the leaves.

Pablo looked at Genevieve and said; “A shy one, I suppose.”

Genevieve said; “Maybe; but could just be playful.”

They approached the pile slowly. When they got right next to one side of it Genevieve used a silly voice to say; “I see you.”

The pug body attached to the pug head started to run into the woodland behind them taking its superficially disinterested head as an un-vouchered passenger along for the ride. But he slipped on the leaves; their undersides made into a shifty oil by their semi-fixed contact with the ground below them. The result was that the pug legs went akimbo, his body was flat on his belly, and his head remained attached, though having traded its apparent superficial disinterest for a look of un-necessary concern; his bulging eyes coupled with his lack of frenetic

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movement the giveaway. Genevieve and Pablo went right over to him. Pablo said; “Are you all right?” while Genevieve got closely in front of the pug, with the intention of preventing another escape attempt.

The little pug said; “Do I look all right to you? Stupid question.”

Pablo sighed and said; “It’s just a common courtesy.

Everyone is so literal around here. Even this little guy.”

Genevieve shrugged and said to Pablo; “You have to admit that it is a bit stupid to ask that when he’s laying here in front of strangers on his butt.”

“Belly,” yelled the little pug.

Undeterred, Genevieve continued, saying; “This is a ‘he’ I guess.” She lowered her head to the ground, shrugged, and added;

“Not sure. At any rate, Pablo, in its place you might do well to consider ‘May I help you?’ or ‘Is there something .......... “

Pablo interrupted to say; “All right. All right. Forgive me for being tritely nice. I won’t do it again.”

The little pug said to Genevieve; “That is extremely rude, even for a hinterlander;” and to Pablo; “Are you referring to both; as taken separately one is not possible?”

Pablo scratched his un-itchy forehead, while Genevieve and the pug shared the suggestion of a discourteous smile.

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The pug said; “Now that we’re all old friends, would you mind if I stood up?” Not waiting for a reply, the pug did and said; “I’m Dashing Tracy. If such a thing still matters to you, you might try to figure out which one that is.”

Dashing Tracy; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license.

“I’m Genevieve.”

“I’m Pablo. And if such things still matter to you, you might try to figure out which one that is.”

Dashing Tracy said; “Please don’t be offended. You must be the artist one. Besides, it is you who have invaded my territory.”

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Pablo said; “Reader.”

Dashing Tracy said; “Sorry. Godard cinephile.”

Genevieve laughed; then looked at Pablo and added; “Sorry.”

Pablo said; “For what?” as if he had some idea. When he got no response other than gently shuffling paws, slightly curling lines, and eyes attuned to the un-piled leaves underfoot, he added; “You know; if ‘Are you all right?’ is a stupid thing to say, then so is ‘Sorry.’”

Dashing Tracy said; “Fine. In your presence I’ll only say

‘Sorry’ when I don’t mean it. All right?”

Genevieve said; “This whole thing is getting perverse.”

Dashing Tracy took off running; this time down the road. It didn’t matter. The same thing happened. Though there were fewer, he slipped on the leaves and Genevieve and Pablo caught up to him and took positions just like they had done before.

Trying to be less trite, Pablo said; “Did you break anything?”

Dashing Tracy said; “I imagine that you mean other than the leaves I have further fragmented.”

Pablo said; “Whatever. You can be so difficult.”

Genevieve said to Dashing Tracy; “If you would just stand up you might escape these questions.”

Dashing Tracy stood.

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Genevieve said; “Very good. Now, the reason we are here is that we are attempting to find two black Scotties, who may go by the names of Billy and Jack. Have you seen them?”

Dashing Tracy said; “That’s the only reason you are here?”

Pablo said; “Oh, for God’s sake. In a large sense, of course not. In the simplicity of the moment, yes. Are you attempting to be purposely obtuse?”

Dashing Tracy said; “I hate answering questions. I prefer to ask them. But, this time, since your question is simple, and because I like you, I will tell you NO.” The pug once again began running, this time toward the further reaches of the road; and this time without falling in the leaves.

Genevieve and Pablo followed Dashing Tracy in an un-hurried manner, fully expectant of a replay, which did not come. They lost sight of their target and came to the woodland road’s end which was actually just more woodland sans any discernable road.

They assumed that Dashing Tracy had disappeared into the place which contained the evergreen greenery of more pine and hemlock than most of Poochville.

They were now feeling their first pinges of tired twilight, both personal and publically available as they saw the first signs of dusk. The waning and now filtered light was coming down at a severe, near plane consistent, set of angles approximating no more than thirty degrees which would have obligated other

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angles to be obtuse, had they sought to fulfill the requisites of a proper triangle; or the supposedly more complex requisites of two such abstractions; that consideration a deference to the physically observable “fact” that there were two distinct beams; though each seemed to emanate from a single source; that now somewhat hidden behind the foliage of the pines and hemlock. As a function of merely being late in the day, rather than having anything to do with anything other than their abilities to read an un-numbered sundial, Genevieve and Pablo curtailed their curiosities, and with a mutual, silent nod to each other, chose not to continue into the wood which currently seemed to have a hazy, mystical feel; as if it’s essence emanated from the smoke generated by one or two imaginary, unknown and unseen wildfires somewhere in the vicinity.

Misty forest; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license.

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They also saw that at the end of their third fork there was another path which led toward home. This was pleasant news to them as they had never gone to the ends of the first two forks; and without really thinking about it assumed them to be dead ends. They soon found that this newly “discovered” path had a gentle curve.

Genevieve and Pablo walked its length; found that it was relatively short and actually connected all three prongs of Ternary Way’s fork. At its end they made their traditional left, though that maneuver initially seemed to take them away from home. They soon saw that they were back on Theo’s fork, but this time there was no Theo around. Despite that, as now they knew where they were, they knew that they were safely on their way home. Genevieve and Pablo could easily visualize that Ternary Way was actually shaped like a lollipop; a stick leading to a circle with one added line within the circle of the candy aspect; like a streak of a differing flavor.

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Aerial view of wooded Ternary Way; property of the author.

At first, the pair walked quietly, and a bit faster than usual as they could see that the horizon was flirting with the sun in the Western sky, and would continue to do so until both had succumbed.

Of Pablo’s necessity they resumed their normal pace when they came to the road’s trunk-like straightaway, and continued at that tempo when they exited Ternary Way.

Genevieve teased her panting companion, saying; “I’m supposed to be the senior citizen here. Just wait until you get to my age.”

Pablo wheezed; “I’ll be quite fine as long as we maintain an appreciation for savoring this lollipop.”

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Lollipop; property of the author.

Genevieve said; “Well, just be careful. Now that the light has started to flicker, those raccoons are going to be coming out any second now.”

Pablo said; “There are no raccoons in Poochville.”

Genevieve said; “That’s what I think too. But, Clement said so. In fact he said that in front of the little Pawsborne quadruplets. Can you believe that?”

Pablo shook his head with agreeing disapproval.

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The Pawsborne quadruplets; property of the author.

Pablo passed his house and accompanied Genevieve to her door lightheartedly saying; “Just in case Clement is right.”

Genevieve smiled.

When they parted at her door, Genevieve said; “Tomorrow again for sure. I don’t care if there’s a blizzard.”

Pablo said; “For sure,” and doubled back to his own house.

Genevieve was more tired than she had led on, and immediately climbed into her wicker bed and fell asleep. She dreamed that there was another cute, even tinier creature in there with her. The baby slept as Genevieve dreamed that she was wide awake. It was confusing; but that was becoming par for her course.

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Genevieve and her tired friend; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license, modified.

Anxiously anticipating tomorrow, Pablo wanted to sleep and have his body well rested; but unfortunately for him; his mind was now wide awake. He decided to get a book and read himself to sleep. He picked the right one. It was titled “Time to Sleep” and was by Denise Fleming. It was about a bear getting ready for hibernation. Pablo pretended that he was a baby bear and he was soon hibernating.

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Pablo reading; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.

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