Mishaps of Gum Drop Island--Issue Four
Miss Mae
October 26, 2006
Another issue begins right where we left off, dear reader. Recall I’m following Sir O. Yuri Wiseguy-eh around his candy plantation on Gum Drop Island (you heard right—that’s music playing in your ears). Simply lean back, enjoy it, and listen to our story…
A member of Yuri’s staff is pruning vines around sour apple jawbreaker blossoms.
He’s a moose?” I asked, repeating the word Yuri had used for that worker.
Yuri shook his head. “He’s not a moose. His name is Moose.”
As if hearing my and Yuri’s exchange of words, Moose turned from his chore and looked at us. I admit I stared as he approached.
Hey Yuri,” Moose said. “Them babies be needin’ sum attention. Gotta git Cuddles over here.”
What’s on your face?” I asked Moose. Brown stains smeared across, over, and around his mouth.
Do tell me, Moose,” Yuri inquired of him, “how it is you devour chocolate bars fully wrapped, and yet you manage to make such a ghastly mess?”
Cuz Ah’m a real man,” Moose bragged, a smug smile lighting his face. “Old sissy guys eat prim ‘n proper. Shoot, not me. Like my pappy always said, ‘If a man ain’t dirty, he might as well take up knittin’.”
I see.” Yuri changed the subject by asking, “And where is Cuddles now?”
Moose pointed to his right. “Down yonder. She’s singin’ to her wispy-wings.”
Singing to them?” Yuri frowned disproval. “Those creatures should be working.”
Aye.” Moose nodded. “But you know Cuddles.”
Yuri stalked down the pathway Moose gestured towards and I followed behind. “What did Moose mean?” I asked. “Who’s Cuddles and what’s wispy-wings?”
Yuri responded by calling out, “I say, Cuddles, what are you doing?”
Beneath the glossy leaves of a sugar plum tree stood a woman whose ankle length hair floated around her like a shimmering golden cloud. On her fingers and wrists sat a dozen little creatures, their paper sheer wings waving in slow motion. Cuddles kissed each one of the delicate animals.
The wispies are needed on the sour apples,” Yuri told her. “Put them to work.”
Cuddles raised a protective hand over her creatures. “Don’t shout. They have sensitive ears.”
Oh, my,” I said. “That flower in your hair. I’ve never seen one like it. What’s it called?”
It’s a special kind of rose,” she answered. “It grows only in the land of Shet.”
Moose bit off the end of a fully wrapped chocolate bar. “That’s shet with an E,” he muttered under his breath.
Now, listen here,” Yuri spoke up. “Cuddles, the wispies enjoy the blooms. They aren’t harmed just because you see their mouths turn down at the sour apple taste.”
Cuddles’ eyes pooled with tears. “Can’t I do their job instead?”
Yuri slapped both hands on his face, clawing his fingers down his cheeks. “Cuddles, we’ve gone through this two million, six hundred fifty-seven times. Your wispies tickle the blooms. That enlivens and invigorates the plants so much, they produce abundantly. The blooms need them, not you, to do the job. Now, go!”
Cuddles, her lips trembling in a tearful pout, walked slowly away, the winged wispies fluttering back and forth between the golden strands of her flowing hair.
ey, mate Yuri,” cried a nearby voice. “You’re back from your trip, then?”
Tazmane, are we ever going to get you upright?” Yuri adjusted his monocle for a closer inspection of the woman who’d greeted him. Dressed in khaki shirt and shorts, the woman walked on her hands.
I poked Yuri. “Why is she upside down?”
Tazmane lived down under,” spoke Moose, stuffing the last of his candy wrapper in his mouth. Smeared chocolate dotted his forehead.
Down under what?” I asked.
Taz comes from the under side of the globe,” explained Yuri. “One day a Kangaroo Express flew overhead and she fell from its pouch. She hasn’t quite mastered the balance of living up over.”
I thought about that before asking, “Up over?”
Yuri looked at me. “Our island’s up over her down under home. Her equilibrium will eventually straighten out.”
Wrap Periwinkle’s waitin’ to speak wid you, mate.” Walking nimbly on her hands, Tazmane led the way. “He’s wontin’ to know what spices you brought back for him.”
Ah, yes, I see him.” Yuri headed toward a hammock stretched between two trees. Long strands of shredded coconut dripped, like Spanish moss, from their branches. A man reclined inside the hammock. Beneath the brim of a white chef’s cap, Wrap Periwinkle looked up from the magazine he flipped through, his dark gaze eyeing Yuri closely.
So, the adventurous explorer has returned.” Putting aside his magazine, Wrap swung his legs out of the hammock, and sat up. “What wondrous new and flavorful tastes have you brought from your travels?”
First,” Yuri said, “what’s on today’s menu?”
Another boring meal,” Wrap answered. “A fresh-roasted peanut loaf smothered with hot fudge sauce, and jelly bean soup on the side. Then for dessert bubblegum frosted tootsie roll tarts. My extraordinary culinary skills are wasted in this unimaginative place!”
Yuri picked up Wrap’s discarded magazine. The red-lettered word, “Archie” blazed across the front cover. “Hmm.” Yuri turned a few pages before asking, “Things are more imaginative concerning Riverdale’s favorite blonde?”
Wrap snatched the magazine from Yuri’s grasp. “Don’t be a wiseguy, eh, Yuri?”
Hold up, pardner!” A hearty voice cried out. “I’m paintin’ your mug on this here poster.”
Not again, Telly.” Yuri sighed and turned to face the woman who appeared suddenly behind us. Outfitted in fringed leather shirt and breeches, Telly hunched over an artist’s easel, her hand racing at turbo speed across the canvas.
I’ll just add this to my latest creations.” Telly straightened to her full height and looked at Yuri. That’s when I saw she held a dark object clenched between her teeth.
What’s in your mouth?” I asked, wondering at the curious sight.
I do the fastest draw ever known,” Telly said, holding her finished sketch up as evidence. “That’s ‘cause I keep both hands free. But all kinds of nasty critters run wild in this place, like renegade tumbleweeds. I cain’t abide them, so my pop pistol’s handy right where I need it.” She grinned around the corked end of the gun barrel.
Moose scratched his nose, leaving behind a dark chocolate stain. “Gotta watch that Telly,” he warned. “She’s liable to shoot off her mouth.”
Ah!” Yuri cried with pleasure. “There’s the lady I’m wanting. Ms. Whales, do join us.”
A small-framed woman strolled between fragrant gingerbread hedge bushes and over to our waiting group. Her white hair piled atop her head sparkled like a mound of sugar crystals. She looked me over with eyes the color of wild blueberries.
Cap’n Bootlegs informed me you wished this—person,” she gestured at me, “to learn the Ways of Civilization.”
Correct.” Yuri smiled and pushed me toward Ms. Whales. “Please, do begin.”
Somewhat reluctantly, I allowed Ms. Whales to take my elbow and lead me to a wooden bench that set in a break of the gingerbread hedge. “Can you read?” she asked.
It’d been many years since I’d had the opportunity, but after thinking a moment, I replied, “Yes. I remember going to school. Why?”
She placed a thick book in my hand. “This shows all the Ways of Civilization. Go through it.”
The title of the book, ‘Code of Conduct When Taken from Noplace In Particular and Thrust Into Someplace Else’, intrigued me. Randomly, I turned to rule number 345: “A civilized lady must never perspire. If she feels the slightest moisture on her forehead, she must immediately seek a horse trough or other container full of water and duck her head underneath. Thus, now cooled off, she can return to polite society.” And rule 56 read: “A civilized lady mustn’t speak unless spoken to. If she can’t restrain herself, she must find a person with whom she wishes to converse. Stomp your heel upon the foot of the intended subject. When the question is screamed, ‘What are you doing, you ninny?’ feel free to chatter away.”
Might I interrupt?” Yuri’s voice inquired. I looked up to see he stood in front Ms. Whales and myself. “There’s one other person you need to meet. I’ve assigned him to be your constant companion.”
Now, I was lost at Noplace-in-Particular for a good long while, dear reader, but that doesn’t mean I became blind to obvious facts. The creature standing before me in brown fedora and trench coat defied logic.
B—but that’s,” I cried aloud, “a—a possum!”
The furry creature flashed a Pepsodent brilliant smile and bowed at the waist, while Yuri introduced him. “This is Heathcliff.”
I’d also read over Ms. Whales’ number 453 Code of Conduct: “A civilized lady must never swoon unless she first makes sure she falls into the waiting arms of a handsome gentleman.”
Yuri wasn’t behind me and I didn’t have time to hunt up Josh Holloway (you know who he is, reader. That hunky dish who’s lost on the television show, ‘Lost’.) Anyway, sorry, Ms. Whales, but it was the hard ground that caught me as I pitched forward off the bench.
(To be continued)
Copyright 2006, Lula M. Thomas
A member of Yuri’s staff is pruning vines around sour apple jawbreaker blossoms.
He’s a moose?” I asked, repeating the word Yuri had used for that worker.
Yuri shook his head. “He’s not a moose. His name is Moose.”
As if hearing my and Yuri’s exchange of words, Moose turned from his chore and looked at us. I admit I stared as he approached.
Hey Yuri,” Moose said. “Them babies be needin’ sum attention. Gotta git Cuddles over here.”
What’s on your face?” I asked Moose. Brown stains smeared across, over, and around his mouth.
Do tell me, Moose,” Yuri inquired of him, “how it is you devour chocolate bars fully wrapped, and yet you manage to make such a ghastly mess?”
Cuz Ah’m a real man,” Moose bragged, a smug smile lighting his face. “Old sissy guys eat prim ‘n proper. Shoot, not me. Like my pappy always said, ‘If a man ain’t dirty, he might as well take up knittin’.”
I see.” Yuri changed the subject by asking, “And where is Cuddles now?”
Moose pointed to his right. “Down yonder. She’s singin’ to her wispy-wings.”
Singing to them?” Yuri frowned disproval. “Those creatures should be working.”
Aye.” Moose nodded. “But you know Cuddles.”
Yuri stalked down the pathway Moose gestured towards and I followed behind. “What did Moose mean?” I asked. “Who’s Cuddles and what’s wispy-wings?”
Yuri responded by calling out, “I say, Cuddles, what are you doing?”
Beneath the glossy leaves of a sugar plum tree stood a woman whose ankle length hair floated around her like a shimmering golden cloud. On her fingers and wrists sat a dozen little creatures, their paper sheer wings waving in slow motion. Cuddles kissed each one of the delicate animals.
The wispies are needed on the sour apples,” Yuri told her. “Put them to work.”
Cuddles raised a protective hand over her creatures. “Don’t shout. They have sensitive ears.”
Oh, my,” I said. “That flower in your hair. I’ve never seen one like it. What’s it called?”
It’s a special kind of rose,” she answered. “It grows only in the land of Shet.”
Moose bit off the end of a fully wrapped chocolate bar. “That’s shet with an E,” he muttered under his breath.
Now, listen here,” Yuri spoke up. “Cuddles, the wispies enjoy the blooms. They aren’t harmed just because you see their mouths turn down at the sour apple taste.”
Cuddles’ eyes pooled with tears. “Can’t I do their job instead?”
Yuri slapped both hands on his face, clawing his fingers down his cheeks. “Cuddles, we’ve gone through this two million, six hundred fifty-seven times. Your wispies tickle the blooms. That enlivens and invigorates the plants so much, they produce abundantly. The blooms need them, not you, to do the job. Now, go!”
Cuddles, her lips trembling in a tearful pout, walked slowly away, the winged wispies fluttering back and forth between the golden strands of her flowing hair.
ey, mate Yuri,” cried a nearby voice. “You’re back from your trip, then?”
Tazmane, are we ever going to get you upright?” Yuri adjusted his monocle for a closer inspection of the woman who’d greeted him. Dressed in khaki shirt and shorts, the woman walked on her hands.
I poked Yuri. “Why is she upside down?”
Tazmane lived down under,” spoke Moose, stuffing the last of his candy wrapper in his mouth. Smeared chocolate dotted his forehead.
Down under what?” I asked.
Taz comes from the under side of the globe,” explained Yuri. “One day a Kangaroo Express flew overhead and she fell from its pouch. She hasn’t quite mastered the balance of living up over.”
I thought about that before asking, “Up over?”
Yuri looked at me. “Our island’s up over her down under home. Her equilibrium will eventually straighten out.”
Wrap Periwinkle’s waitin’ to speak wid you, mate.” Walking nimbly on her hands, Tazmane led the way. “He’s wontin’ to know what spices you brought back for him.”
Ah, yes, I see him.” Yuri headed toward a hammock stretched between two trees. Long strands of shredded coconut dripped, like Spanish moss, from their branches. A man reclined inside the hammock. Beneath the brim of a white chef’s cap, Wrap Periwinkle looked up from the magazine he flipped through, his dark gaze eyeing Yuri closely.
So, the adventurous explorer has returned.” Putting aside his magazine, Wrap swung his legs out of the hammock, and sat up. “What wondrous new and flavorful tastes have you brought from your travels?”
First,” Yuri said, “what’s on today’s menu?”
Another boring meal,” Wrap answered. “A fresh-roasted peanut loaf smothered with hot fudge sauce, and jelly bean soup on the side. Then for dessert bubblegum frosted tootsie roll tarts. My extraordinary culinary skills are wasted in this unimaginative place!”
Yuri picked up Wrap’s discarded magazine. The red-lettered word, “Archie” blazed across the front cover. “Hmm.” Yuri turned a few pages before asking, “Things are more imaginative concerning Riverdale’s favorite blonde?”
Wrap snatched the magazine from Yuri’s grasp. “Don’t be a wiseguy, eh, Yuri?”
Hold up, pardner!” A hearty voice cried out. “I’m paintin’ your mug on this here poster.”
Not again, Telly.” Yuri sighed and turned to face the woman who appeared suddenly behind us. Outfitted in fringed leather shirt and breeches, Telly hunched over an artist’s easel, her hand racing at turbo speed across the canvas.
I’ll just add this to my latest creations.” Telly straightened to her full height and looked at Yuri. That’s when I saw she held a dark object clenched between her teeth.
What’s in your mouth?” I asked, wondering at the curious sight.
I do the fastest draw ever known,” Telly said, holding her finished sketch up as evidence. “That’s ‘cause I keep both hands free. But all kinds of nasty critters run wild in this place, like renegade tumbleweeds. I cain’t abide them, so my pop pistol’s handy right where I need it.” She grinned around the corked end of the gun barrel.
Moose scratched his nose, leaving behind a dark chocolate stain. “Gotta watch that Telly,” he warned. “She’s liable to shoot off her mouth.”
Ah!” Yuri cried with pleasure. “There’s the lady I’m wanting. Ms. Whales, do join us.”
A small-framed woman strolled between fragrant gingerbread hedge bushes and over to our waiting group. Her white hair piled atop her head sparkled like a mound of sugar crystals. She looked me over with eyes the color of wild blueberries.
Cap’n Bootlegs informed me you wished this—person,” she gestured at me, “to learn the Ways of Civilization.”
Correct.” Yuri smiled and pushed me toward Ms. Whales. “Please, do begin.”
Somewhat reluctantly, I allowed Ms. Whales to take my elbow and lead me to a wooden bench that set in a break of the gingerbread hedge. “Can you read?” she asked.
It’d been many years since I’d had the opportunity, but after thinking a moment, I replied, “Yes. I remember going to school. Why?”
She placed a thick book in my hand. “This shows all the Ways of Civilization. Go through it.”
The title of the book, ‘Code of Conduct When Taken from Noplace In Particular and Thrust Into Someplace Else’, intrigued me. Randomly, I turned to rule number 345: “A civilized lady must never perspire. If she feels the slightest moisture on her forehead, she must immediately seek a horse trough or other container full of water and duck her head underneath. Thus, now cooled off, she can return to polite society.” And rule 56 read: “A civilized lady mustn’t speak unless spoken to. If she can’t restrain herself, she must find a person with whom she wishes to converse. Stomp your heel upon the foot of the intended subject. When the question is screamed, ‘What are you doing, you ninny?’ feel free to chatter away.”
Might I interrupt?” Yuri’s voice inquired. I looked up to see he stood in front Ms. Whales and myself. “There’s one other person you need to meet. I’ve assigned him to be your constant companion.”
Now, I was lost at Noplace-in-Particular for a good long while, dear reader, but that doesn’t mean I became blind to obvious facts. The creature standing before me in brown fedora and trench coat defied logic.
B—but that’s,” I cried aloud, “a—a possum!”
The furry creature flashed a Pepsodent brilliant smile and bowed at the waist, while Yuri introduced him. “This is Heathcliff.”
I’d also read over Ms. Whales’ number 453 Code of Conduct: “A civilized lady must never swoon unless she first makes sure she falls into the waiting arms of a handsome gentleman.”
Yuri wasn’t behind me and I didn’t have time to hunt up Josh Holloway (you know who he is, reader. That hunky dish who’s lost on the television show, ‘Lost’.) Anyway, sorry, Ms. Whales, but it was the hard ground that caught me as I pitched forward off the bench.
(To be continued)
Copyright 2006, Lula M. Thomas
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