SHE'S DYING


What the hell do you mean she’s dying?  I water it, feed it fertilizer, and give it plenty of sunshine, and fresh air.

But do you love her?

What?

You heard me.

I heard you, but I don’t believe what I heard.

Please answer the question, do you love her?

I don’t know; I suppose I do. How the hell do you love a plant?

Do you talk to her?

No, I don’t talk to it. Are you nuts?

There’s the answer to why she’s dying.

Because I don’t talk to it? I haven’t talked to it – ever.

Does she have a name?

A what?

A name, n – a – m – e.

I don’t know. It’s a jade plant so I guess its name is Jade.

That’s like calling you Man, and not a very bright one at that. Well, let’s give her a name.

That is really a dumb idea.

Perhaps, but give her a name anyway. Why is this so hard for you?

Because I feel stupid talking about this damned plant.

Okay, I’ll give her a name.

No, you won’t. It’s my plant.  I’ll give it a name.

I’m waiting.

Oh, God.

No, that is not an appropriate name.

Gloria.

That’s my sister’s name.

So?

You hate my sister

Yeah, right. Has she married her Harley Davidson yet?

That’s not funny. Do you hate this plant?

No.

Try again.

I can’t remember.

That’s not a name.

Yes, it is.  If someone asks me the name of my plant, I won’t remember, and I will probably say, I can’t remember. So there.

You’ve got a point, an idiotic one, but never the less.  Try again.

How about Courtney?

That was your first girlfriend’s name.

Oh, Yeah. God, I really miss her.

Why did she dump you? I forgot.

Because.

Because why?

Because I couldn’t say … I loooooovvvvve you.

There’s the answer to this problem. 

So, what should I say, so it’ll – I don’t know – be happy?

She’s a beautiful plant. Try telling her she’s beautiful. And say to her what you couldn’t say to Courtney.

Wait a minute.

There’s no time to waste. If you don’t begin now, she’ll be dead and it will be your fault.

Christ Almighty, okay.  Hello, plant. I think you’re beautiful, and I lovVVVVVVVe you.

You are so pathetic. Come on, you can do better than that.  Put a little emotion into it – mean what you’re saying.

Okay, how’s this … Hey, Babe, you’re the best looking Jade Plant this side of Balboa Park.

Balboa Park?

Well, you give it a try.

Hey, sweetie; may I touch your beautiful luscious leaves? They are so plump and curvaceous it makes my heart warm.

Plump and curvaceous? You have to be kidding.  It’s a plant for God’s sake. And how do you know it’s a she. What if it’s a he?

It’s a she.  I know about things like this. Look at her, you idiot. Anyone with two brain cells can tell it’s a she.

Okay, I’ll give you that. Oh, look.  She just dropped one of her little leaves. OH! There goes another one.

You better get with the program or she’ll be dead before the day is out.  I hope she does die. You don’t deserve her.

Where are you going?

Away from you, you insensitive trailer-park-person.

That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Mother.

Where are my car keys?

On the hall table, next to my suicide note.

Don’t I wish.

Have a nice day.

Trailer-park-person, indeed. Okay, Courtney. I know you’re feeling poorly, but this is the best I can do. 

I looooovvvvvve you and don’t want you to die.  We’ve been together for almost 15 years. I’ve gotten used to you. I know I’ve grown insensitive to your needs and that’s my fault. So here’s what I’m gonna do.

I’ll buy a new pot for you to live in.  Something with a little pizazz instead of this funky old clay thing.  I’ll get new potting soil and mix some primo weed in with it. That should make you happy. I know it makes Mom happy when I mix it in her salad. And I’ll buy some of those pretty river rocks to top it off.

And while I’m at it, I’ll look for a boy plant to keep you company. Yeah, like that is ever going to happen.

For now, how about a little glycerin on your leaves. Oh, you like that idea.  Come here baby and let me massage your leaves. See, you already look better.  And you better not die or I’ll grind you up and mulch you into that dandelion patch out in the backyard.

  
THE END
Thank you or reading this story. The URL below contains a tune to send you on your way, cheers, JT.
http://chirb.it/xHzrmn








Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE DOLL Yard Sale

Image
Marge Benson circled and underlined the last of three yard sales in the newspaper. It was a block yard sale which meant there would be lots of goodies and hopefully a treasure or two. She folded the newspaper, drank the last of her coffee and placed the empty cup in the sink. “Okay, girls, let’s go.” “Mom, do we have to?” “Clarise isn’t available to babysit so you're stuck with your mother. I know this is cruel and unusual punishment but there’s nothing to be done about it. Where’s your sister?” “She’s next door, hiding.” “From you or me?” “From you and your yard sales. Don’t you have enough dolls?” “It’s my hobby ... the one thing I enjoy doing besides keeping you and your sister out of trouble.  Someday you’ll have babies of your own and you’ll be begging me for a few of them.” “But you won’t let us have them, right?” “Right. Okay, here’s a promise. Let’s do the three yards sales without any more complaining, and I’ll do anything you want the rest of the
Read more

DAVID Beloved Angel

Image
When I first met David, he didn’t seem extraordinary. He seemed average in many ways to the point where one hardly noticed him which, I was to learn later, was exactly the way he wanted it. He’s 5-10 in height, slim but wiry build, short brunet hair, and clean shaven. His eyes caught my attention immediately; crystal blue and piercing is the best way I can describe them. And his hands – there is something about them I can’t quite put my finger on – no pun intended. My name is Cameron Phillips, friends call me Cam. I had a room to let in my Upper West Side New York City apartment. When I wrote the advertisement, I emphasized no alcohol or pets, there would be a one thousand dollar deposit which would be returned at the end of one year with six percent interest, and references would be thoroughly checked. I wanted to avoid dealing with the unqualified. My phone rang as the morning edition hit the streets. I assumed the caller had read the ad – that was a mistake. I made an appoi
Read more

GOOD LIES

Image
As told by Inmate 61489220 Incarceration is probably one of the bleakest existences to be foisted upon a human being. I’m not saying it’s not well deserved in most cases but still, the grayness is almost unbearable. Everything available to delight an individual disappears. The absence of color is the first thing you notice. Clothing, walls, floors, even the food. I’m not sure how they do it, but the food is gray also. I concluded they do this intentionally to make life as miserable as possible. Even the taste of food is gray in prison. And, of course, intimacy with another human being is gone but not forgotten. It’s the not forgotten part that drives you closer to insanity. You don’t realize how important it is to be touched and held by another human being until it is no longer available. I was allowed two visitors a month but they had to be family. About a year into my stay with the Federal Government, I received a note from my brother advising that he and his family along wit
Read more