What’s going on inside Jimmy D’s delicious brain this lazy Sunday?
(literally! As in delicious ANND lazy! 😉 lol )
Yet another new blog segment category….
Short Story Sunday.
I won’t do these often, because I actually want to encourage people to BUY my words, rather than reading them for free, but every now and then (when I have nothing better to do on Sunday, I’ll post one of the many short stories that on in my “writer’s can.”
(oh and maybe occasionally post a few all-new debut ones here. So if you’re into that sort of thing, keep your eyes open.
Today’s install, one of my all-time favorite pieces of the past…AND YES…it’s true….well…mostly. 😉
The Marvelous Mystery Of Gadingadinga
By James R. Davenport (aka Jimmy Devious, AKA me. )
Blue orbs of light oscillated back and forth like the lit flame of gas griddle, and there were bright blue skies simmering with sunshine overhead to match them. Blue eyes with blond bangs, rays of sunshine strands, graced the little boy’s forehead with a golden innocence. It truly was a time unique, a brisk belle époque, and a great golden age where everyone told the truth, all cereals came with marshmallows and toy trinkets inside. An era ear marked by Big Wheels, Big Bird, and bedtimes before nine, yes, if it wasn’t obvious enough already, the little boy was of the sure and stout age of five.
He sat squarely on a rigid, rosewood stained bench with welcoming, wrought iron leggings that bespoke of a kind of old smooth southern charm. A bench not unlike one a tourist might make a ready respite on after an arduous adventure filled morning of scouting shops in the French Quarter, which, as a precise point of fact, was only a half an hour’s ride from this little boy’s home. The grass on the front lawn flourished under the light of the late spring sun as if each bold standing blade were a contented creature unto itself, and the rosebushes raising their perfumed plumage to that early afternoon sky seemed to be even more endowed with enjoyment. Everything was in its proper place in time and space, yet young and naively new, free from cloudy confusion. All was wonderfully warm of a high definition hue. A two story sturdy siding and brick layer cake stood sedately behind the little boy’s bonny bench seat, as if this house hawkishly had the power to protect this pint-sized prince of its demure domain. Yet, all it could inevitably do is what those little looking eyes were doing, watching all the world walk by, and time itself tick trickling away to its own tune.
Just such an event made its way along the pine straw peppered sidewalk. The wee lad was waddling a honey flavored hippo cracker along through the air, from an animal ark of a string-handled cardboard marked with the Nabisco blazon, but nothing in his boldly bright red box of animal crackers could prepare him for the cute creature that would cross his path that afternoon, or more accurately skate along on that sidewalk.
Those solid sugar white skates accented with the accessories of pompom pink tassels and tightly tied pink laces, perpendicular pink wheels of four, forget furious fuschua rollerblades as said before, this was an earlier epoch in time. One of metal Matchbox cars, metal music making your own rules, and Teddy Ruxpin, so certainly skates were primitively pre-inline.
The sweet sixteen skater was a typical perky princess of the period, hair of a halo bright blond, bound with a small scrunchie of an equally pretentious pink. Sunglasses small and sassy, the shade of her skin just a tad too tan, her bikini top a tad too small. The young lad looked upon her with great googly eyes of clumsily cute curiosity, nearly toppling over onto his Sesame Street sneakers, sitting securely beside him. The half-pint panned up with his pawny-eyed gaze upon two grand mounds prominently protruding from the young woman’s bursting bikini bundles. They were big and bountiful as they bounced, with two tiny, perfectly round pebbles to the front of each enormous mass.
How can that lady skate with those rocks rolling around up there, wouldn’t she fall dooown? Thought the inquisitively innocent youth.
Stranger still, was how his little light blue eyes were so transfixed on a gaudy gold locket, tightly tucked in the in the small space between those two tenacious tater tots. It was just an ordinary locket, like the kind his mommy might wear. Yet, for some strange reason that the small simple youth could not comprehend, this heart had him fascinated. Perhaps it was the “pocket” itself that was so pretty to his perceptions, but the youth would not understand the frustrating phenomenon anytime soon.
As the she skater sped ever closer, the shrimpy small fry saw even more of the skater’s smooth shape, her cunning cutoffs that were completely contoured to her sharply formed silhouette. Arms and legs, long and butternut brushed from beach tanning, everything so smooth in an almost showroom shine caused by scenically placed sweat and sun. The skater was unlike anything the antly small lad had ever seen before. His childish Hasbro heart moved up in his chest as she slowed her strides to a snail’s pace near his strategically placed seat. Her bodily bubbles were now so close, and the butterflies in his stomach bumped their happy insect heads together toward retardation in celebration of this endowed one’s very illumination of the little boy’s wee worldly presence.
Her hand and a sweet smile made their way to meet his happy “Heee!” sounded goofy grin and little wave with one of her own and a warm, “Hey cutie pie!” as she promptly passed by.
The youth eagerly continued to eye the beautiful blond girl for some strange reason by his Lilliputian logic, despite the fact that all he saw was her bopping behind, so small and smoothly round. It was just a butt, but the boy could not convince his curious eyes to quit looking upon it, long after the skater was seen speeding up and had half bolted down the block.
Then he noticed IT, a so shockingly strange sensation in his own small stature. The youth had been going back for a bite of the golden innocent goodness of animal crackers, when he suddenly felt an inexplicable incline in the inseam of his oh so American Oaush Kosh overalls. A precarious peaking, a bit sized bump between his legs that had never been there before, a curiously stout stiff sensation in his lower regions.
Huh? I didn’t move that! Is it alive? And why is it…”dancing”? Thought the perplexed pup.
This was all too unbelievable to be bravely bottled up…something had to be done and quickly, for who knew what the cause of this…strong stiff thing was, or whenever it would end. There was only one wise woman that could help the terrified tike now. A seemingly endless she-source of smarts and silly entertainment, the keeper of the car, the one who wished with him on a star, the marvelous magical healer of boo-boos, and the clever keeper of all unknown knowledge in the known gazillion mile universe… with a shout, her centuries-old signal was harkened unto the heavens by the he-child.
A warm weather weary woman of about 33 hurriedly immerged from a splinter ridden side gate. Medium length midnight dark hair, roughly rubber banded up into a ponytail peeking through the back of a baseball cap. A tattered tee and decent denim shorts with plain white sneakers and worn white garden gloves gave the general summation of her hardworking appearance. It was also equally apparent the Mom had been working with dirty devotions and flowerpot functions for several hours.
She sluggishly staggered out, “ Are you alright Jimmy? Did you go near the fire ant mound by the light pole again?”
With winded whininess and a smile the youth replied,
Wiping her beaded brow with a towel tied to her belt, Mom then asked, “Well then what’s the matter son?”
Coolly with clandestine cuteness the boy leapfrogged down directly from the bench and quickly cut to his mother’s side so no one would see him shaking the sleeve of her shirt, petitioning her for a lowered ear of perfect privacy. Mom did so with little delay, squatting down on a knee so the son could speak softly…about his little stick.
Slowly the youthful son anxiously asked, “Mommy, what does it mean when you see a girl and your peepee goes, Gadingadinga?”
Sighing with fussy frustration, the little lad held up his equally small index finger straight so she could see and said raising his voice slightly, “Gaaah DINNG gaaaah, DINNG gaaah!”
(Moving the stiffly straight digit up and down with each “ding.” )
Mom made a muffled snicker cough…before barely bumbling out with, “Oh…uhhh…it’s…….it’s…..supposed to do that” with an ever-sneaking up smile.
“Really Mommy? Are you suuuuure?”
“Uh (cough) yes…but (biting her lip) you could ask your father about…it… when he comes home…since he (squinting eyes and biting lip again) has one of….of those.”
“Uhh…okaaay….thanks Mommy!” said the small young boy now with a smile of restored security.
As the boy started for the sturdy front door, sillily swinging his handled animal cracker box through the air, he heard the boisterous blast of his Mother with a mouthful of loud laughter, gushing out a geyser of now unsuppressed giggles, laying lazily on that perfectly manicured lawn.
Hope you also had a wonderful weekend! 🙂
Long ago came to…grips…. with his own Gadingadinga,