day 21

Websites don't feel like real life.  It's getting to the point where it's so easy to do research that the word doesn't have the same negative connotation anymore.  Not that it's in depth research, but you don't have to open a yellow pages or call anyone.

Anyway, this one might be slightly better.  I got a book about building character.  I'm going to continue to be honest about my means for improvement.  To be a real character they need something they care about.  Good authors obscure this thing.  I make it painfully obvious.

The topiary on the lawn had literally went to the birds since he had fired Julio.  Mr. Buldens ran out with a broom, waving it angrily at the trees like an angry tribesman in a John Wayne movie. 

“As long as they don’t touch the lawn,” He said to himself.  “Those worms are mine.”  Pulling the screen door open to return inside, he tried to shut it but it flapped freely in the wind.  Gritting his teeth, he closed and locked the inside chamber door. 

The grand master staircase hinted a a more luxuriant upstairs, dust and cobwebs had found their way into alcoves which in all their garishness sacrificed for practicality.  He climbed a wobbily rolling ladder which was always shaky, try as he might to wedge it in between the florid ruffled rug and the marble shoebox.  He never quite got all of them, he lacked what Julio had called “the attention to detail.”

Mr. Buldens went onto his daily business assuring himself he would discover Julio’s secret for keeping the birds off his lawn.  He fed the birds in the aviary, vaccuumed his bathroom which had accumulated hair around ths basin of his circular tub, in the partition that separated the shower from the sauna; Mr. Buldens was convinced a large hairy dog came in here at night to kicked its shedding fur off of it with its back paw.

Julio let the phone ring for awhile before he answered.  He was sorting his socks into piles which were most suited for each other.  A smile would spread like the rising sun over his face as he found each new pair.

“Ello?” Julio held the phone under one ear.  He did not have caller ID.

“Julio, this is Theodore Buldens,”  He started.  “The funniest thing has happened since you’ve left, this place is a venerable pigsty.”

“I did not leave, Mr. Buldens,”  Theodore paused, turning a washing machine dial.  “You fired me.  I am glad to come back for time and half.”

Mr. Buldens recoiled as if he had been pinched and held the phone out between index finger and thumb.  He squinted his eyes as he paced back and force through the dining room.  At noon, the sun makes every bit of dust in a house visible.  He noticed, like a dull blade in his back, that the spiderwebs he had just removed were reappeared.  “I’ll get back to you,”  He said curtly.  “Julio, I’ll let you know”.

Mr. Buldens flipped through the yellow pages.  Over the next week, he tried several new cleaners, all of whom would miss a detail or two.  It didn’t bother Theodore so much, but his wife berated him for his inability to hire someone to get the job done right.  This wouldn’t have been so bad, but each time it was completely unexpected, the lady would show up with her cleaning tools and he would watch as she used surgical precision to render each area of the house spotless.  It delighted him to no end, he would stand in the hallway giddily waving goodbye, and go light a big cigar and recline in his evening chair, watching as the birds destroyed his sculptures with nests and beaks.

He called information and informed them he was having a bird problem.

“Who do you suppose I call for something like that?”  He asked, bewildered.  He got connected to a bird solutions business, who handled “birds and other pests” according to their advertisements.  A guy came over in a grey van and was prepared to shoot poison over Theodore’s plants, a plan which Theodore was appalled at.  The man assured him that it would do no damage to the plumage, but Theodore swore him off, prefering to seek different avenues.  The bird guy did reveal a big piece of the puzzle, that being that the bird pests bothering him were known as grackles. 

GRACKLES!  He cursed their name.  He started to notice more about these creatures than before, seeing them in his mind as if they were haunting his dreams.  Now, when he stared off of his front porch at his inhabited menagerie, he would see a thousand eyes staring up at him.  Walking up the path on his return from the grocery store, he heard them cackling at him like a gang of hostile youths.

He unloaded the British pasties, cans of tuna (subconsciously he may have wanted a cat), a carton of milk, eclairs, a candy bar for himself.  Unwrapping the candy bar, he pushed the door for his basement open, peering his head inside and retreating down the stairs into his private lounge area.  He hadn’t even finished putting the groceries away, and going through the tools in his workbench he uncovered the electric sander, the electric screwdriver, but not the bullhorn he was looking for.

Driving to the hardware store, Theodore considered cutting his menagerie down.  He almost threw up in his mouth thinking about it, and had to swerve to avoid a stop sign.  He drove over to Julio’s house, slamming his fist hard on the front door.  Julio opened the door a crack, then released the lock.  He stood in the hallway, perplexed.

“Julio how do you get the birds to go away each morning?”  Theodore said.  “I’m begging you, I can’t conitnue on like this.  I think next they will be onto the lawn, forming nests each place they can get themselves into.”  He was delirious.  The birds were peaceful.

“It isn’t a trick, Mr. Buldens”, Julio said.  Julio was prepared to insist on his pay increase one more time, but saw the desperation in Theodore’s eyes, as he crumbled before him.  “You aren’t… crying… are you Theo?”  Julio inquired, pulling his pant leg lose from Theodore’s grasp.

Arriving back at Theodore’s house, Julio stepped out of the car and evaluated the situation.  The birds had claimed the third sculpture as well, a facsimile ram.

“Ok, this is a not looking good, Mr. Buldens,”  Julio started.  “Definitely going to need time and a half for this one.”

            I want to go back and read my earlier work to decide whether or not there's been improvement but I think that would just make me more self conscious so I won't  See ya tomorrow jerkasses

Scour
permutations
avidity
knurled
blighted:

the rapid and extensive discoloration, wilting, and death of plant tissues.

flambeaux

sluice 

ingot