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Post by Foxy on Sept 1, 2019 9:56:06 GMT -5
Hey, Kidz!
If you have picked up this book with the hope of finding a simple and cheery tale, I’m overjoyed to say you have picked up the right book altogether. The story may seem cheery at first, when the Lotsaluck children spend time in the company of some interesting birds and an exhilarated cousin, so buy into it! If you know anything at all about the lucky Lotsaluck children, you already know that all pleasant events lead down the same road to bliss.
In fact, within the pages you now hold in your hands, the three siblings enjoy bicycle riding, a pleasant aroma, a friendly bird, some child-safe cookware, a large home theater, and the reappearance of a person they’d thought they’d never see again.
I am bound to record these marvelous events, and you are free to read this light book and put any other unhappy books back on the shelf.
With glee,
Loney M. Setnick
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Post by Dante on Sept 1, 2019 11:40:45 GMT -5
A promising prospect! Sounds like an entertaining set of spins on the original; and so we really will see Count Omar again, it seems! It would probably have been taking the joke too far for him never to reappear, but it was hard to know what to expect.
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Post by Hermes on Sept 1, 2019 11:58:39 GMT -5
Oo, the Lotsalucks are back! Very interesting - especially the home theatre, which seems something of a departure from the source. I look forward to this.
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Post by Foxy on Sept 9, 2019 12:23:08 GMT -5
Book #2
The Avian Attic
To Herbert
My love for you will probably not live forever.
You, however, might, if you get robotic transplants. Chapter 1 The stretch of bike trail that leads out of the city, past Bright Boatyard and into the town of Interestia, is perhaps the most pleasant in the world. It is called Lovely Loop. Lovely Loop runs through hills that are a vibrant green color, in which plentiful lively trees produce pears so juicy that one only has to look at them to feel his or her mouthwatering. Lovely Loop crosses the Gallant River, a body of water that is nine-tenths fresh squeezed orange juice and that contains profusely encouraging turtles, and it encircles a mustard factory, so the entire area smells like a baseball stadium. I am happy to tell you that this story begins with the Lotsaluck children traveling along this most pleasing bike trail, and that from this moment on, the story only gets better! Of all the people in the world who have wonderful lives – and, as I’m sure you know, there are quite a few – the Lotsaluck youngsters take the cake, a phrase which here means that more happy things have happened to them than just about anybody. Their fortune began with an enormous lottery that their loving parents won, which is enough euphoria to last a lifetime, but in the case of these three children it was only a good beginning. After the lottery, the siblings were sent to live with a distant relative named Count Omar, a delightful and generous man. The Lotsaluck parents had left behind an enormous fortune, which the children were allowed to use at any time and for any reason, and Count Omar had been so polite and welcoming to the children that they had used a small portion of the money to fix up his home. He threw the children a pony party just before they left, but the children missed him very much. Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda still had daydreams about Count Omar’s twinkling eyes, and about his two normal eyebrows, and most of all about the tattoo of a nose he had on his wrist. It seemed like that nose was smelling the Lotsaluck children wherever they went. So I must tell you that if you have opened this book in the hope of finding out that the children lived happily ever after, you might as well keep it open and not read anything else! Because Laurie and Larry sitting on large bicycles and Lil’ Linda sitting in a basket behind the bicycles out in the fresh air glancing at the trees along Lovely Loop were heading toward even more happiness and glee. The Gallant River and the mustard factory were only the first of a sequence of delightful and pleasant episodes that bring a grin to my face and a whistle to my lips whenever I think about them. The rider of the bicycle in the lead of the group was Mr. Foe, a family friend who worked at a gas station and always changed his hat multiple times a day. He was in charge of overseeing the children's affairs, so it was he who decided that the children would be placed in the care of a distant relative in the country after all the pleasantness with Count Omar. “I hope you’re comfortable,” Mr. Foe said, adjusting his bicycle helmet, “I tried to find bicycles with the most comfortable seats on them. We couldn’t bring your suitcases because we couldn’t bring a car because the gas station is temporarily out of gas. In a week or so I’ll drive back here and bring them to you.” “Thank you,” said Laurie, who at fourteen was the oldest of the Lotsaluck children. Anyone who knew Laurie well could see that her mind was not really on what Mr. Foe was saying, because her face had a big smile on it. Laurie was an aspiring zoologist, and when she was thinking of animals she liked to smile as big as she could. It helped her think clearly about the various kingdoms, families, and species. “After living so long in the city,” Mr. Foe continued, “I think you will find the countryside to be a pleasant change. Oh, here is the turn. We’re almost there.” “Good,” Larry said loudly. Larry, unlike many people on bike rides, was full of energy, and he was happy he did not have a book with him, because reading while bike-riding is hazardous. Larry hated reading, and at approximately twelve years of age had read fewer books than many people read by the time they are five-years-old. He had already read a cookbook recently, and he had no interest in reading for a very long time. “I think you’ll like Dr. Jebediah, too,” Mr. Foe said. He has traveled a great deal, so he has plenty of stories to tell. I’ve heard his house is filled with things he’s brought from all the places he’s been.” “Zeeba!” Lil’ Linda shrieked. Lil’ Linda, the youngest of the Lotsaluck children, often talked like this, as infants tend to do. In fact, besides napping wherever there was an empty space, speaking in fragments was how Lil’ Linda spend most of her time. It was not too difficult to tell what she meant to say. At this moment she probably meant something along the lines of “That is a nice herd of zebra in that field over there.” All three children admired the zebras’ stripes. “How is Dr. Juh-” Larry stumbled over the name, “related to us?” “Dr. Jebediah is – let me see – your mother’s aunt’s husband’s brother. I think that’s right. He’s a scientist of some sort, and travels a lot by automobile.” As a gas station attendant, Mr. Foe was always interested in people who used lots of gasoline. “What should we call him?” Larry asked. “You should call him Dr. Jebediah,” Mr. Foe replied, “unless he tells you to call him Jebediah. Both his first and last names are Jebediah, so it doesn’t really make much difference. “His name is Je-what?” Larry said in despair. “Maybe he has a nickname,” Mr. Foe said, adjusting the visor of his motorcycle helmet. “‘Nickname’ means ‘another name someone goes by.’” Larry sighed. “So I can just call him Nick? Or would Mr. Name be more appropriate?” He did not add that of course he had no idea what a scientist was. Occasionally, people thought that because the children were fortunate, there were also clever. Laurie sighed too, and stopped smiling. She had been trying to think up a way to corral all the zebras into a pen by using mustard as bait so the children could recreate the pony party, but she was too excited about meeting Dr. Jebediah to focus on it. “Do you know what sort of scientist he is?” she asked. She was thinking Dr. Jebediah might have an aquarium that would be of use to her. “I’m afraid not,” Mr. Foe admitted. “I’ve been very busy cleaning up after that gasoline spill at the gas station, and I didn’t have much time for chitchat. Oh, here’s the driveway. We’ve arrived.” Mr. Foe hopped off his bicycle and removed his snowboarding helmet. The house had a circular front door made of light wood, with no columns on the front porch. To each side of the door were several doorbells, which were all ornately designed even though one really only needs one doorbell. Above the front door, the house had rows and rows of circular windows, most of which were closed to keep the breeze out. But in the front of the house was what was really typical: a small, well-kept lawn, filled with bird feeders of all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors. As everyone got off their bikes or out of their baskets, the Lotsalucks could see that the feeders had been filled so as to attract as many birds as possible. Each bird feeder was a different size, some big, some small, some medium and some gargantuan. They were quite magnificent, and Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda were invigorated just by walking beside them on their way up to the house. Mr. Foe, who led the way, paid special attention to the bird feeders. “Ooh, look at that nice red one, Larry! Laurie, do you see that hummingbird feeder? Hummingbirds are my favorite birds. And somebody please make sure Lil’ Linda doesn’t eat the food for the finches. That wouldn’t be a good first impression.” Mr. Foe stepped up to the door and rang every single doorbell at once, which nearly knocked everyone off the front porch from the volume. Immediately, they could hear someone walking on their hands, and Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda all looked at one another. They had no way of knowing, of course, that very soon there would be more fortune within their lucky family, but they nevertheless felt at ease. Dr. Jebediah will be a kind person, they thought. But no one can be better than Count Omar. The door was thrown open quickly, and the Lotsaluck children breathed excitedly as they looked into the brightly-lit entryway. They saw a light sea green hardwood flooring. They saw a beautiful chandelier which they thought they remembered seeing recently in someone else’s house. They saw a large acrylic painting of two owls sitting on a tree branch that hung on the wall. But where was Dr. Jebediah? “Hello?” Mr. Foe called out. “Hello?” “Bonjour!” a quiet voice said softly, and from behind the door, and tall, slender man with a long pale face appeared, doing a handstand. “I am your Cousin Jeb, and this is really perfect timing! I just finished doing my handstand regiment for the day! Also, I made a pineapple upside-down cake.”
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Post by Dante on Sept 9, 2019 15:25:41 GMT -5
What a cheerful and amusing start to the volume; in a way it's strangely sincere. I enjoyed the bathos of, not Olaf's tattoo watching the Baudelaires, but Omar's tattoo smelling them, a ridiculous image; elsewhere, the explanation for why the children's baggage wasn't brought with them seems to make more sense than the canon explanation... Mr. Foe ringing all those doorbells has shades of S. Theodora Markson, in a way. And I approve of those myriad bird feeders.
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Post by Foxy on Sept 17, 2019 13:38:27 GMT -5
Chapter 2 “Doesn’t Lil’ Linda like pineapple?” Cousin Jeb asked. He, Mr. Foe, and the Lotsaluck children were all sitting around a pale pink table, each with a slice of Cousin Jeb’s cake. Both the kitchen and the cake were cool, as though Cousin Jeb had finished baking the cake much earlier in the day. The cake was a splendiferous thing, soft and moist with the perfect amount of pineapple. Laurie, Larry, and Cousin Jeb were almost finished with their pieces, but Mr. Foe and Lil’ Linda had taken only one small bite each. “To tell you the truth,” Laurie said, “Lil’ Linda has fallen asleep in her cake. She prefers to nap.” “How usual for a baby,” Cousin Jeb said, “but not at all usual for many birds. The Barn Owl, for example, is a bird that must stay awake at night, otherwise it cannot hunt. Very difficult to read bedtime stories. Would Lil’ Linda perhaps like a cushion? That’s plenty soft.” “A cushion would be perfect, Dr. Jebediah,” Larry replied. The children’s new babysitter got up and walked toward a closet, but then turned around and wagged a finger at Larry. “‘Dr. Jebediah’ is my father,” he said. “And he’s old. Call me Cousin Jeb! Why, my fellow ornithologists don’t even call me Dr. Jebediah ever since that incident with my father and the hummingbird. They don’t like to mention his name anymore, actually.” “What are ornithologists?” Laurie asked. “What’s a hummingbird?” Larry asked. “Children, children,” Mr. Foe said lackadaisically. “Keep asking questions so you can learn more about your new temporary guardian.” Cousin Jeb smiled at the children. “Yes, indeed,” he said. “Questions show a curious mind. The word ‘curious’ means ‘inquisitive.’” “Wow,” Larry said. “You must be a genius!” “Well, if you don’t know what that means,” Cousin Jeb said, putting the cushion underneath Lil’ Linda without waking her, “then do you have any guess what ornithology is?” “Not a clue,” Larry said. “I must have been looking out a window at a guy in a gorilla suit on that day of school.” “Birds!” Cousin Jeb cried. “Birds, birds, birds! That’s what I study! I love birds, all kinds, and I circle the country looking for different kinds to study here in my aviary! Isn’t that intriguing?” “That is intriguing,” Laurie said. “very intriguing. But isn’t it hazardous?” “Not if you speak bird,” Cousin Jeb said. “Mr. Foe, would you like a cushion as well? You’ve scarcely touched your cake.” Mr. Foe adjusted his zip-line helmet before replying, “No, thank you, Dr. Jebediah. If I take a nap now, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Cousin Jeb winked at the children. “If you like, you may call me Cousin Jeb as well, Mr. Foe.” “Thank you, Cousin Jeb,” Mr. Foe said accommodatingly. “Now, I have a question, if you don’t mind. If I eat this cake, do you promise not to tell my wife? She put me on a diet, and if she knew I ate the cake, I would be in big trouble.” “I won’t tell her,” Laurie said quickly, but inside she was not so sure. She believed in always telling the truth, and she wasn’t sure she could lie if she saw Mrs. Foe. “I won’t tell her,” Cousin Jeb said. “Besides, in a few days we leave for the Average Canyon, and we won’t be around to tell your wife anything about the cake.” “Really?” Larry said. He wasn’t wearing glasses, so it was easy to see the excitement in his eyes. “You’d really take us to the Average Canyon with you?” “I will be glad to have your help,” Cousin Jeb said, reaching over to take a bite out of Lil Linda’s piece of cake. “Hans, my top assistant, was stealing my toothpaste, so I had to fire him just yesterday. There’s a man named Steve whom I have hired to take his place, and he should arrive shortly, but I am way behind in preparations for the expedition. Somebody has to read up on all the birds of the Average Canyon so we can identify all the birds we see. Somebody has to practice swimming, so we can capture birds in the water with stealth. And somebody needs to stay on top of one of the bird cages because the latch broke, and the birds can escape.” “I’m interested in animals,” Laurie said, licking her fork, “so I would be happy to learn about birds.” “I find swimming fascinating,” Larry said, digging sloppily into his cake, “so I would love to practice swimming and bird-capturing.” “Slurp!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, suddenly waking up. She probably meant something along the lines of “I would be thrilled to lay on top of a cage and take naps for long periods of time.” “Magnificent!” Cousin Jeb exclaimed. “I’m glad you have such work-ethic. It will make it easier to do without Hans. It was typical, his stealing my toothpaste like that. I was unlucky to have hired him in the first place.” Cousin Jeb’s face scrunched up, a phrase which here means “took on a rather angry look as Cousin Jeb thought about his bad assistant,” although if Cousin Jeb had known what good luck was soon to come, he wouldn’t have wasted a moment thinking about Hans. I wish – and I’m sure you wish as well – that we could go back in time and tell Cousin Jeb things weren't so bad, but we can’t, and that is that. Cousin Jeb seemed to think that was that as well, and he shook his head and smiled, clearing his brain of revenge-filled thoughts of t.p.-ing Hans’s house. “Well, we don’t have to get started. Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow, I always say. Why don’t you show Mr. Foe to his bicycle, and then I’ll show you the Avian Attic.” The three Lotsaluck children, who had been so excited when they had walked through the bird feeder yard the first time, bounced hyperly through them now as they escorted Mr. Foe to his bicycle. “Now, children,” Mr. Foe said, tipping his armored helmet over his face, “I will be back here later with your luggage and to make sure everything is all right. I know that Dr. Jebediah might seem a bit fun, and I’m sure in time you will learn all about sending messages to your friends with carrier pigeons.” “He does seem fun,” Larry said politely. “He seems very easy to get along with.” “I can’t wait to see the Avian Attic,” Laurie said excitedly. “Yeep yeep!” Lil’ Linda said, which probably meant “I need another nap.” “Well, good-bye,” Mr. Foe said. “Remember, it is just a short bike ride here from the city, so please contact me or anyone else at the Gary’s Gas Getaway if you have any trouble. See you soon.” He gave the children a kind wave with his hand, got onto his bicycle, and rode back down Lovely Loop. Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda waved back, hoping that Mr. Foe would remember to stop and brush his teeth so his wife wouldn’t smell the pineapple upside-down cake on his breath. “Les enfants!” Cousin Jeb called out from the front door. “Come along, les enfants!” The Lotsaluck children raced back through the bird feeders to where their new temporary guardian was waiting for them. “My French isn’t so great, Cousin Jeb,” Laurie said. “I only just started taking French last year.” “It means ‘children,’” Cousin Jeb explained. “I had a whim to speak a little French. I’m so excited to have you three here with me, you’re lucky I’m not speaking Latin.” “Have you never been the temporary guardian of three children whose parents won the lottery before?” Laurie asked. “I’m afraid not,” Cousin Jeb said. “I always meant to be friends with more lottery winners and start a carrier pigeon business, but it just kept slipping my mind. Shall I show you the Avian Attic?” “What’s an attic?” Larry asked. “Our home doesn’t have an attic,” Laurie explained to Cousin Jeb. Cousin Jeb led them past the painting of owls in the entryway into a small room with a rope ladder and rather short ceilings. “Your rooms will be up there,” Cousin Jeb said, gesturing up the rope ladder. “You can each choose whatever room you like and move the furniture around to suit your taste. I understand that Mr. Foe has to bring your luggage later when his gas station gets more gas so he can fuel his car, so please make a list of anything you might need and we’ll go to the mustard factory giftshop tomorrow and buy it so you can have underwear that says “mustard factory” on it. It’s surprisingly comfortable.” “Wow, we get our own rooms again!” Laurie said. “Of course,” Cousin Jeb said. “It’s not a huge house, but there are plenty of rooms for you.” “This place is a mansion!” Larry said. “Oh, that’s right, Mr. Foe told me,” Cousin Jeb said, looking a little sad, as if someone had just kicked him in the shins. “Your home in the city is quite small. But it sounded like you had fun at Count Omar’s. He sounds like a delightful person. I hope we run into him some day. Wouldn’t that be satisfying? Oh, well, let’s take the rope ladder up to the Avian Attic.” Cousin Jeb led the way up the rope ladder to a very small room with a short wooden door with a small door knob where a door knob would usually be on a door. The room was so small, Cousin Jeb had to crouch down to open the door. When it swung open on its smooth, soundless hinges, the Lotsaluck children all gasped in amazement and euphoria at the attic they saw. The Avian Attic was made entirely out of glass with dark, opaque walls and a low glass ceiling that rose up like a dome of a butterfly greenhouse. Outside the walls was the bright blue sky, so standing in the Avian Attic was like being in an airplane and being in a room at the same time. But as remarkable as the room itself was, what was inside the Avian Attic was much more exciting. Birds, of course, were flying freely about the room. There were all sorts of owls, naturally, but there were also eagles, crows, and assorted other birds that the children had never seen before, not even in pictures, or at the zoo, because their family had never had money to go to the zoo. There was a very skinny African Snipe with two wings coming out of its back, and a three-headed blackbird that had no stripes on its belly because it was a blackbird. There was a canary that had four beaks, all in a row, and another that seemed to have no beak at all. There was a duck that looked like an owl, with wide eyes that gazed at them from the small pond it was swimming in, and an emu that looked just like a library, complete with librarian’s reading glasses. And there was a cage with a yellow cloth on top of it, so you couldn’t see what was inside at all. The children walked all over the room, peering into each cage and talking loudly. “Look at this owl!” Larry shouted. “He’s trying to sleep!” “Wow!” Laurie said, “I didn’t know penguins were friends with cardinals!” “Wabati!” Lil’ Linda said, which meant, “What’s under the yellow sheet?” The children made their way to the end of the Avian Attic, and it was then that they first noticed all the bookshelves surround the walls of the room, each one stuffed with books of the same size and shape, with a small swimming pool and a large sofa next to the cage with the yellow cloth over it. I’m sure it will be of no surprise to you that the Lotsaluck home had very few books in it, which the children didn’t remember and therefore couldn’t miss, and since the lottery, the children hadn’t thought too much about reading. Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda examined the books haphazardly, and realized that on the bookshelves was an enormous set of bird encyclopedias, from Abbott’s Jungle Babbler to Zululand Batis. Laurie looked forward to reading about the birds, while Larry looked forward to swimming in the birds’ pool, and Lil’ Linda looked forward to napping on the sofa. “Quite the place ya got here, Cousin Jeb!” Laurie said. “Thank you,” Cousin Jeb said. “It’s taken me two years to put together.” “Do I have to read?” Larry asked. “Read?” Cousin Jeb repeated. “Of course not! You are to practice swimming, my boy! Starting first thing tomorrow morning, all of us must be here every day in preparation for the expedition to the Average Canyon. One of those sofa cushions is for you, Laurie, to read books about birds in the canyon. Larry, I expect you to practice swimming every day until you get tired, and practice capturing finches. And Lil’ Linda can sit on the other cushion and nap. We will work all day until dinnertime, use child-friendly kitchen equipment for cooking dinner, and after dinner we will watch the music video station and make fun of the pop music. Are there any objections?” Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda looked at one another and grinned. Any objections? The Lotsaluck children had just been living with Count Omar, who had allowed them to volunteer to fix up his home and help him prepare healthier meals, while planning an elaborate pony party for them. But Cousin Jeb had just described a delightful way to spend one’s time, too, and the children smiled at him eagerly. Of course there would be no objections. Larry didn’t even know what an objection was. Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda gazed at the Avian Attic and envisioned even more happy things happening to them as they lived a short part of their lives under Cousin Jeb’s care. They were right, of course, about their continuous happiness, and for the moment the three siblings were optimistic, enthusiastic, and content. “No, no, no,” Lil’ Linda cried out, in apparent scolding of a bird who was pulling stuffing out of her couch cushion. “Good, good, good,” Cousin Jeb said, thinking Lil’ Linda was answering his question. “Now, let’s go figure out whose room is whose.” “Cousin Jeb?” Larry asked self-confidently. “I just have one question.” “What is that?” Cousin Jeb said. “What’s in that cage with the cloth on top of it?” Cousin Jeb looked at the cage, and then at the children. His face lit up with a smile of pure joy. “That, my dears, is a new bird which I brought over from my last journey. Hans and myself are the only people to have seen it. Next month I will present it to the Ornithological Society as a new discovery, but in the meantime I will allow you to look at it. Gather ‘round.” The Lotsaluck children followed Cousin Jeb to the cloth-covered cage, and with an understated – the word “understated” here means “simple, so as to not show off” – gesture, he took the cloth off the cage. Inside was a small yellow bird, as bright as the sun and as tiny as a teacup, looking right at the children with pale blue eyes. With the cloth off its cage, the bird began to fly around its home. “Because I discovered it,” Cousin Jeb said, “I got to name it.” “What is it called?” Laurie asked. “The Believably Tuneful Chickadee,” Cousin Jeb said, and at that moment something happened which I’m sure will interest you. With an opening of its beak, the bird began to sing a song, and before Cousin Jeb or any of the Lotsalucks could say anything, they began to hear horrendous music.
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Post by Dante on Sept 18, 2019 9:02:42 GMT -5
Another strong chapter, Foxy. I've particularly enjoyed Larry's limited vocabulary in this installment, but I also appreciate how most of the birds referred to are real, just perhaps a little unusual in their appearance. It's interesting which elements change and which stay the same; I see that the Believably Tuneful Chickadee's name remains a misnomer, but whether it's a better animal than promised or worse has in a sense reversed. You have an ear for the ludicrous name with that and the likes of the Average Canyon.
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Post by Foxy on Sept 23, 2019 12:00:38 GMT -5
Chapter 3 I am very, very excited to leave you on a cliffhanger, because as I was writing the tale of the Lotsaluck children, I happened to look my smart watch and realized I was almost late for being early to a casual luncheon given by a frenemy of mine, Mademoiselle diTerne. Mademoiselle diTerne is a fair-weather friend, so-so private investigator, and a terrible cook, and she would rather I didn’t show up to her parties at all, so you understand I had to go and irritate her. You must have thought, at the end of the previous chapter, that the Lotsaluck children taught the Believably Tuneful Chickadee to sing old folk songs and that this was the wonderful thing that happened to the Lotsalucks at Cousin Jeb’s house, but I promise you that bird did not learn to sing in this particular episode. It is Cousin Jeb, fortunately, who will be singing, but not yet. As the mouth of the Believably Tuneful Chickadee opened in Lil’ Linda’s ear, Laurie and Larry watched in amazement as Lil’ Linda’s little eyes closed and her face grew quiet. Then, singing as suddenly as the bird, Lil’ Linda smiled brightly, opened her mouth, and sang terribly right into the Believably Tuneful Chickadee’s tiny, feathered ear. The bird stopped singing into her ear, and Laurie and Larry could see that it was very confused by Lil’ Linda’s singing. The two older Lotsaluck siblings looked at Cousin Jeb, and Cousin Jeb looked back at them and laughed. His laughter bounced off the glass walls of the Avian Attic. “Cousin Jeb, what can we do?” Larry asked in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, my dears,” Cousin Jeb said, wiping his eyes with his hands. “You must be very puzzled. But the Believably Tuneful Chickadee is one of the least tuneful and most irritating creatures in the animal kingdom. Lil’ Linda doesn’t seem to have a very good singing voice, and neither do I.” Larry looked at his baby sister, who was still in his arms, as she lazily gave the Believably Tuneful Chickadee a pat on his tiny head, and he realized Cousin Jeb must be telling the truth. “But then why is it called the Believably Tuneful Chickadee?” Cousin Jeb laughed again. “It’s a misnomer,” he said, using a word which here means “a name that makes no sense whatsoever.” “Because I discovered it, I got to name it, remember? Don’t tell anyone about the Believably Tuneful Chickadee, because I’m going to present it to the Ornithological Society and give them a good ear ache before explaining to them that the bird can’t sing at all! They’ve teased me many times, because I can’t sing.” “I thought they would tease you because of your name,” Larry said. “Why would they do that?” Cousin Jeb said. “Anyway, at this year’s conference I’m going to get back at them with this prank.” Cousin Jeb drew himself up to his full height and began talking in a silly, scientific voice. “‘Colleagues,’ I’ll say, ‘I would like to introduce to you a new species, the Believably Tuneful Chickadee, which I found in the northeast forest of – oh, look! It’s opening its mouth!’ And then, when all my fellow ornithologists have leaned forward to hear it sing a beautiful song, it will begin loudly and dreadfully warbling. Won’t that be hilarious?” Laurie and Larry looked at each other, and then began laughing, half in relief that Lil’ Linda seemed to have no permanent hearing loss, and half with amusement, because they thought Cousin Jeb’s prank was a good one. Larry put Lil’ Linda down on the floor, and the Believably Tuneful Chickadee followed, perching affectionately on top of Lil’ Linda’s head, the way you might pat a dog of whom you were fond. “Are there any birds in this room that are good singers?” Laurie asked. “Of course,” Cousin Jeb said. “You can’t study birds for two years without encountering ones with nice voices. I have a whole mp3 player of sound samples from every pleasant-sounding bird known to people, so I can study the ways in which these lyrical birds sing. There is a bird in this room who sings so high that you wouldn’t be able to hear her. There is a bird who can open her mouth so wide she sounds like an opera singer. There is a pair of birds who have learned how to drive a car with such terrible pop music blaring on the radio that you will wish you were deaf. But all of these birds are flying around loose in here, and you probably shouldn’t try to touch any of them. I promise you, if you take time to learn chord progressions, you will enjoy the Avian Attic.” There is a type of class, which is taken all too infrequently and which is being referenced to at this point in the story of the Lotsaluck children, called “music theory.” Simply put, music theory is a class where a person learns note names, chords, inversions, and figured bass, and someone else who has never studied music has no idea what any of this means. For instance, if you had just finished your first semester of music theory, you would have learned the iii chord is a very interesting one in music indeed, but everyone who was not in your class would still prefer unimaginative pop music with its I -> V -> vi -> IV. Music theory is a wonderful class, one that not enough people take, and I’m sorry this is how life goes, but Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda have such fortunate lives that it was only a matter of time before Cousin Jeb taught them all about music theory. As you and I listen to Cousin Jeb tell the three Lotsaluck children that they will enjoy the songs of the birds because of chord progression, we should be happy that Cousin Jeb is in fact going to teach the Lotsaluck children music theory. This feeling is like the flutters of one’s stomach when one is in love, or when you have eaten many butterflies. For no matter how safe and happy the three children felt, no matter how mysterious Cousin Jeb’s words were, you and I know that soon Cousin Jeb will be learning to sing and the Lotsalucks will be ecstatic once again. During the days that followed, however, the Lotsalucks had a wonderful time in their new home. Each morning, they woke up and dressed in the privacy of their very own rooms, which they had chosen and decorated to their liking, Laurie had chosen a room that had a tiny window looking out to the bird feeders. She thought she would pretend the window was a telescope, and she was spying on all the hungry birds. Cousin Jeb had allowed her to have night-vision goggles to make her feel even more like an animal spy, especially in the middle of the night. Larry had chosen a room with an endless pool in it – the word “endless” here means “the pool created its own waves, so Larry could swim and swim without ever touching the edge of the pool.” With Cousin Jeb’s permission, Larry had purchased new swimming goggles after one of the birds stole his favorite pair, and he used them whilst swimming in his pool. Each night, rather than pretending to swim in his dreams, he would turn on the endless pool and swim long distances, sometimes until midnight when he would go down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Lil’ Linda had chosen a room right between Laurie’s and Larry’s, and filled it with large, soft pillows from all over the house, so she could nap whenever she felt like it. There were also assorted pillows for the Believably Tuneful Chickadee so it would be quiet and sleep instead of singing its terrible song. But where the Lotsaluck children most liked to be was the Avian Attic. Each morning, after breakfast, they would join Cousin Jeb, who would have already started work on the upcoming expedition. Laurie sat at a table with the many books on birds, learning which ones lived in the Average Canyon, and how to lure them closer by imitating their songs. Larry swam nearby in the bird pool, practicing sneaking up on the birds and capturing them from the water. And Lil’ Linda practiced sleeping on top of the cage with the broken latch with great enthusiasm. But what the Lotsaluck youngsters liked best was learning all about music theory from Cousin Jeb. As they worked, he would teach them about octave registers, and how the middle C on a piano is C4. They learned about various clefs, including treble, bass, alto, and tenor clef. Cousin Jeb taught them the difference between sharps and flats, how to notate the different notes on the grand staff. He taught them not to write flats in music when the key signature included sharps, and to never, under any circumstances, compose in C# major. While he was teaching them the basics of music, Cousin Jeb would often start humming – a word which hear means “attempt to make music with his mouth closed” - tunes he had made up himself, but for someone who knew so much about music, his ability to sing in tune was about as good as the Believably Tuneful Chickadee. And before too long, the Lotsaluck children were smiling nervously as they told Cousin Jeb all about their own musical experiences in school, or, in Lil’ Linda’s case, at home where her mother had sung to her. Cousin Jeb was as interested in the Lotsalucks’ stories as they were in his music theory lessons, and sometimes they got to talking so long Larry’s skin became completely wrinkled as he was treading water in the pool. One morning, however, when the three children finished their breakfast and went into the Avian Attic, they found not Cousin Jeb, but a note from him. The note read as follows: Dear Enfants,
I have gone into town to buy a few last things we need for the expedition: Arizonian elk repellent, a lava lamp, canned cannellini beans, and a fireproof tent. It will be easy to find the cannellini beans, because you just go to a grocery store and search in the canned vegetable aisle, but everything else might be difficult to find, so don’t expect me back until dinnertime.
Steve, Hans’s replacement, will arrive today by trolley. Please make him feel welcome. As you know, it is only two days until the expedition, so please work very hard today.
Your exhilarated cousin,
Jeb
“What does ‘exhilarated’ mean?” Laurie asked, when they had finished reading the note. “It means he doesn’t have any hills anymore,” Larry said, having not paid attention much during language arts class. “That's why he’s ex- hill-arated.” “I'm not sure that’s right,” Laurie said. “Hotta!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, which probably meant “These eggs are undercooked.” “I’m a little exhilarated myself,” Larry said. “We used to play on the hills of Pretty Pond, but Cousin Jeb’s yard doesn’t have any hills.” “I’m really not sure that’s what Cousin Jeb meant,” Laurie disagreed. “Since we left Count Omar’s, I thought I would never be happy again. But our time here has been wonderful.” “I still miss our parents, thought,” Larry said. “No matter how nice Cousin Jeb is, I wish we still lived in our real apartment.” “Of course,” Laurie said quickly. She paused, and slowly said out loud something she had been thinking about for the past few days. “I think we’ll miss our parents until they get back from their cruise. But I think we can miss them and Count Omar without being miserable all the time. After all, they wouldn’t want us to be miserable.” “Remember that time,” Larry said haphazardly, “when we were super entertained playing pictionary telephone, and all of us drew a picture of moose with underwear hanging from their antlers?” “Yes,” Laurie said, “because Dad had told us a story about a moose running into a clothesline back in the old country.” “Alces!” Lil’ Linda shouted loudly, which probably meant something like “Great minds think alike.” The Lotsaluck children smiled at each other and, without many words, began to do the day’s work. For the rest of the morning they worked loudly and erratically, realizing that their mirth here at Cousin Jeb’s house did not erase their parents’ silliness, not at all, and they would see them again after their cruise was over. It is fortunate, of course, that this loud jovial moment was one of many the children would have while in the guardianship of Cousin Jeb. Just when the Lotsalucks were beginning to think about lunch, they heard the pedal trolley pull up to the front of the house and honk its horn. To the children it signaled the arrival of Steve. To us it should signal the beginning of even more joyfulness. “I wonder who that could be,” Larry said, coming up for air from the pool. “I hope it’s the ice cream truck.” “Larry,” Laurie said, opening and shutting a book on the Cactus Wren to make sure she remembered what the bird looked like, “Cousin Jeb told us his new assistant, Steve, is coming today.” “Tutti-fruity!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, which probably meant something like “Did someone say something about ice cream?” The Lotsalucks left the Avian Attic and walked out the front door to find a pedal trolley parked next to the bird feeders. An average height, somewhat overweight man with no beard and big, bushy eyebrows over his eyes was hopping off one of the seats, carrying a yellow duffle bag with no lock on it. “Here’s a big tip,” the beardless man was saying to the driver of the pedal trolley, “thanks for all the great stories! Everyone loves to hear about a new baby, you know. Oh, hello there! I’m Steve, Dr. Jebediah’s new assistant. How do you do?” “Hello,” Laurie said, and as she approached him, there was something about his clear voice that seemed vaguely familiar. “Hello,” Larry said, and as he looked up at Steve, there was something about his twinkling eyes that seemed quite familiar. “Howl!” Lil’ Linda shrieked. Steve wasn’t wearing a watch, and Lil’ Linda, walking on two feet, could see his bare wrist sticking out of his suit coat. There on his wrist was something that was most familiar of all. The Lotsaluck children all realized the same thing at the same time, and took a step forward as you might to a cute puppy. This man was Steve, because that was what he was calling himself. The three children looked at Cousin Jeb’s new assistant from head to wrist and saw that he was none other than Steve the laboratory assistant. He had big bushy eyebrows, and he had no beard, and he just happened to have the same tattoo as Count Omar.
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Post by Dante on Sept 23, 2019 15:11:25 GMT -5
An excellent chapter, Foxy. There are all sorts of clever little inversions of the original and self-references that almost serve to make ASoUE look like the bitter parody, rather than this. The appearance of musical theory is an interesting digression relative to the largely fictitious herpetology employed in TRR, and I find it amusing to think that I might actually learn something from this story. I take it that those musical elements are leading up to an original conclusion, in the same way as The Pony Party had a healthy living subplot; and so once again we may be looking at a positive didactic text, the very thing ASoUE so often tried to mock. It's impressive that you can build your parody not just into individual lines but the overall structure and themes of the text as well. I am looking forward to seeing more of Steve.
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Post by Foxy on Oct 2, 2019 14:33:43 GMT -5
Chapter 4 One of the easiest things to think about in life is one’s satisfactions. Something will happen to you, and you will do the right thing, and for years afterward you will be thankful everything worked. For instance, sometimes when I am riding an escalator, or visiting the home of a living friend, I will remember a day, a long time ago, when I brought a flashlight on a camping trip, and the result was being able to make delicious pudgy pies in the dark. Thank goodness I brought a flashlight! I think to myself, patting myself on the back. I’m so glad I brought a flashlight. For years after this moment in the lives of the Lotsaluck children, Larry thought of the time when he and his siblings thought Steve was just a man with a tattoo like Count Omar’s, and was filled with satisfaction that he called out to the driver of the pedal trolley. “Hi!” Larry said out loud at the appropriate time. “Hi! I hope you have a safe trip back to the city!" Of course, it is perfectly understandable that Larry and his sisters were so happy to make new acquaintances, and Larry would swim laps in the pool, years later, thinking that maybe, just maybe, since he had been so friendly to the pedal trolley driver, he might have an in at the pedal trolley company and become a pedal trolley driver. The pedal trolley driver and all the other riders waved and said hi. As the Lotsaluck children stared at Steve, the pedal trolley pedaled back down the driveway and the children were alone with their acquaintance, a word which here means “someone they had just met and never come in contact with before in their lives.” Steve smiled at them the way Cousin Jeb’s Macaw Parrot would smile when an almond cracker was placed in its beak each day when it landed on Cousin Jeb’s shoulder. “I will carry my duffle bag to my room,” he proposed in his clear voice. “The ride along that aromatic road was intense and pleasant and I am full of energy.” “If anyone ever deserved to travel along Lovely Loop,” Laurie said, beaming at him, “it is you, Steve. That was very kind of you to give the driver a trip. Come on into the house!” Stever smiled at the children, and then looked this way and that as if he expected to see someone hiding behind the bird-feeders. “Who is Steve?” he asked quizzically. “Oh, that’s right! My name is Steve. I am here to assist Jebediah Jebediah with his upcoming expedition to the Average Canyon. I assume you three are children of whom Dr. Jebediah is the temporary guardian.” “We are children,” Larry said whimsically. “We are children. And you are Steve. You have big, bushy eyebrows, and you seem like a delightful person. We will let you in this house.” “Buta!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, which probably meant something like “You smell like bacon!” Steve looked at each of the Lotsaluck children, his eyes twinkling brightly as if he were Santa Claus. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, wiping bacon grease on his pants, “but if I did, I would tell you pedal trolleys don’t serve bacon. And if they did serve bacon, I wouldn’t eat it. I am on a diet.” The children watched as Steve nodded his head vigorously. It probably isn’t necessary to tell you the pedal trolley was serving bacon that day, and Steve had maybe had a piece or eight. Larry could still remember the time their parents had received apple wood smoked bacon as a Christmas gift from a neighbor and the family had enjoyed it together, when they were still living in their apartment. Lil’ Linda could still remember the taste of the fresh bacon their grandparents had made for them once when the children visited their farm. And while Laurie wasn’t a huge bacon fan, she did indulge in it from time to time, and the happiness of remembering it was enough for her to smile a big smile. “This bag is so light,” Steve said. “I’ve been exercising a lot lately, and I’ve found lifting heavy things is much easier than it used to be.” Larry and Lil’ Linda hurried to hold the door open for Steve. It was wonderful that Steve had appeared in their lives, just when they were feeling so comfortable and safe with Cousin Jeb. And to actually be helping this delightful person enter their home was magnificent. Steve followed closely behind them and the three children could smell his fresh breath as they held the door open for him and he brought his duffle bag indoors and set it on the hardwood floor beneath the painting of the birds. “Thank you, children,” Steve said, the children shutting the door behind him. “Now, Dr. Jebediah said my room would be waiting upstairs. I can keep carrying my luggage from here. But stay here! I’ll be right back down, and I want to get to know you right away.” “We don’t know you, Steve,” Laurie said. “We would love to spend more time with you.” “I don’t know you, either,” Steve said. “It is clear to me, Laurie, that you are a very nice girl. And Larry, you are wearing swimming goggles, so you must like swimming. And I see that Lil’ Linda here has a penchant for napping.” “Snore,” Lil’ Linda snored, which probably meant something like “I am asleep.” “What are you talking about?” Larry said patiently. “I have no idea what the word ‘penchant’ means.” “Really?” Steve said. “That’s odd. Haven’t you taken middle school language arts? His eyes twinkled even brighter, and he reached into the pocket of his new coat and brought out a pocket dictionary, such as one might use for looking up words. “Here it is, penchant: a tendency to do something.” Laurie and Larry looked at Steve, and then at their sleeping sister. “You are right about that,” Larry said. “Babies are so cute,” Steve said. “Do you want to keep this dictionary?” “Larry could probably use a dictionary,” Laurie said, “because he doesn’t have a very big vocabulary.” Steve smiled and headed for the stairs with his duffle bag, and Laurie smiled back. “We’re going to go back up to the Avian Attic. Please meet us there when you’re done unpacking.” She turned on her heel and loped lazily to the rope ladder up the tunnel to the Avian Attic, followed by her siblings. If you or I had been there, we would have been a little more suspicious of who Steve really was, but the Lotsaluck children had no idea what was going on. Laurie went back to reading about the Arizona state bird. Larry dove back into the pond, practicing his butterfly stroke. And Lil’ Linda sprawled on top of one of the cushions, so large you could not possibly have missed her if you walked into the room. For many moments, all of the children spoke, and couldn’t hear Steve climbing up the stairs to his room. “Steve... seems... nice,” Larry said each time he came up for air in his stroke. His voice was loud and clear, as if he didn’t have a sore throat. “Yes, it is always nice to meet someone you’ve never met before,” Laurie said, going over to pat Lil’ Linda on the head. “He reminds me of Count Omar because they have the same tattoo, but I know he can’t be Count Omar because Count Omar lives in the city and doesn’t have bushy eyebrows.” Laurie shrugged, and did not add that it would sure be strange for someone to follow children around from guardian to guardian. She did not need to add it. Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda were not suspicious children by nature. Suddenly, they each had a craving for a small butter cookie. “What can we do?” Larry asked, stopping at the edge of the pool. “Cousin Jeb won’t be back for hours.” “We could play Scrabble,” Laurie said. “Now you have a dictionary to help you, but we should probably keep getting ready for the expedition.” “You’re probably right,” Larry said. “Hey, remember when we played Scrabble with the Foes? Mr. Foe took such a long time taking his turn, I thought maybe he forgot how to spell. But then he made the word ‘quizzify’ using a blank tile for the extra Z and scored four hundred nineteen points.” Laurie pictured that day at the Foes, playing Scrabble, all together with their friends Villaina and Enemia. “How could we ever top that?” “I don’t know,” Larry said, quickly glancing through the pocket dictionary. “Hey, did you know ‘cat’ is spelled with a c and not a k?” “Yes,” Laurie point out. “How did you not know that?” “I must have had water in my ears,” Larry said, “the day the teacher taught that lesson. Lil’ Linda probably couldn’t play Scrabble, but in a few years she could.” The three children were noisy. Laurie noisily turned pages in her book. Larry noisily swam in the pool. And Lil’ Linda noisily snored on the cushion. They were glad their parents had won the lottery, and that their lives were a little topsy-turvy. If the Lotsaluck parents were still poor, the youngsters wouldn’t have even heard of Steve, and now their new friend was settling into their home and undoubtedly making innocent plans. “We can’t play Scrabble,” Laurie said. “Steve is probably hungry, and there was no bacon on the pedal trolley, so we should offer him something to eat.” Larry pulled himself out of the pool. He hadn’t been thinking of how hungry Steve must be. Besides telling the children there was no bacon on the pedal trolley, Steve was a little bit overweight, and he was probably famished. Larry remembered when Count Omar had thrown a dinner party for his coworkers and brought his favorite soup home. There was a man with a full head of hair, who always wore a nice three-piece suit. There were two women who wore absolutely no make-up. There was a person so fit and masculine looking you could tell for sure he was a man. And there was another man with two hands instead of hooks. Laurie was right. They should offer Steve something to eat, just like Count Omar had offered his guests something to eat. “I think we shouldn’t wait for Cousin Jeb to come back, because Steve is probably hungry right now,” Laurie said. “We want to be accommodating hosts.” “Okay, let’s order soup from Count Omar’s favorite restaurant,” Larry said. “Admin!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, which probably meant something like “I don’t think they deliver all the way out to Lovely Loop!” Laurie shook her head. “Lil’ Linda’s right. We are too many miles out of the city for the restaurant to deliver soup to us.” “That’s true,” Larry said thoughtfully. “So we make soup ourselves.” “We make soup ourselves,” Laurie agreed. “Oojot,” Lil’ Linda said sillily, and the siblings looked at one another happily. Cooking is one of life’s enjoyments. It is easy to whip up a chocolate cream pie while your roast beef is simmering in a slow cooker. It is plenty easy to make homemade carameled apples to hand out for Halloween. And to cook a delicious creamy sweet potato soup while one’s adoptive cousin is out buying camping supplies and a new friend is upstairs unpacking is one of the best cooking expeditions the Lotsalucks had ever experienced. To keep their mind on it, each child had his or her own job to do in the kitchen. Laurie chopped the potatoes with a child-safe vegetable chopper. Larry peeled garlic and used a press to mince it. And Lil’ Linda taste-tested the soup periodically to make sure it was cooking properly. She told the Believably Tuneful Chickadee he would have to wait to play chess with her until after dinner. They listened for Cousin Jeb’s SUV and occasionally heard a noise from upstairs. They wondered what Steve might be unpacking. Finally, as the bird feeders began to cast long, skinny shadows in the setting sun, the children heard an approaching engine, and the SUV pulled up. A large fire-proof tent was strapped to the roof of the SUV, and the backseat held just a few of Jeb’s purchases. Cousin Jeb got out, easily handling the weight of a few shopping bags, and the children came out to meet him. In that instant when they immediately came out of the house was created another moment of satisfaction. Had they not gone dashing out to the vehicle, Steve might have had a moment alone with him. But by the time they reached the vehicle, Steve was just starting down the stair. “Steve, your lab assistant, is really nice!” Larry said. “He tipped the trolley driver.” “I didn’t know what color of lava lamp you preferred,” Cousin Jeb said, smiling at Larry, “so I got you a blue one, because you like water so much. It tends to be dark out at night, so we will each need a lava lamp when we camp.” “Blue is fantastic!” Larry said, speaking to Cousin Jeb but seeing Steve come out the door. “Can I carry the tent?” “Yes, but my goodness, you can’t carry it all by yourself,” Cousin Jeb said. “Hi, Steve! Nice to meet you! Can you help Larry carry the tent inside?” “Cousin Jeb,” Laurie said, “we have something very important to tell you.” “I’m all ears,” Cousin Jeb said, “but first let me show you this elk repellent I picked up. I’m so glad you read up on the elk situation in Arizona, because the other repellents I have would have been no use at all.” Cousin Jeb dug through one of the bags on his arm as the children waited patiently for him to finish. “This one contains a substance called ‘coyote urine granules.’ Those should keep the elk away!” “Cousin Jeb,” Larry said, “that is amazing.” “Larry,” Cousin Jeb said, his eyebrows staying low, “it is amazing indeed. Now, please help Steve with the tent, and we’ll talk about anything you want in a few moments.” Larry used his knees to help carry the tent and followed Steve in the open door. Laurie watched them walking toward the storage closet as Cousin Jeb put his bags down by the front door and faced her. “I’m glad the salesman still had a bucket of repellent left,” he said. “What we have to tell you,” Laurie began, but she stopped when something caught her eye. Jeb was facing away from the storage closet, so he couldn’t see what Steve was doing, but Laurie saw Steve stop at the storage closet, lift the tent onto a shelf, and press his thumb forcefully onto his bushy right eyebrow as if it had come loose. Its hairs caught a bead of sweat and Steve sighed, apparently relieved his eyebrows were still attached to his head. As you probably know, eyebrows do not usually just jump off of peoples’ faces, because they grow out of hair follicles above the eyes. Laurie figured these eyebrows were no different. Larry looked at the eyebrows, and then at Steve, and then at Laurie. Laurie looked at Larry, and then at Steve, and then at Jeb. Lil’ Linda didn’t look at anyone because she had fallen asleep on the floor. Jeb looked at everyone and wondered what was going on. “What we have to tell you,” Laurie began again, “is that we made sweet potato soup for dinner to welcome Steve to our home.”
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Post by Dante on Oct 3, 2019 16:16:54 GMT -5
This chapter is a really surreal read. There's a weird tension to the sheer lack of tension and the way the Lotsalucks take everything at face value; the suspense was real the whole way through for whether Steve really would be exactly what he appeared or not. And I enjoyed that you flipped the original text on its head far enough for Larry to actually call out to the taxi driver. This was worth the wait.
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Post by Foxy on Oct 7, 2019 8:58:23 GMT -5
When began posting this project, I had the intention of finishing it. This will not be the case. I am going to post what I have done of this project now, and if anyone would like to complete it, I encourage them to do so. The following posts will not be edited as I usually do before posting, so there may be some mistakes or just bad writing in general.
Chapter 5
That night felt like the shortest and most wonderful the Lotsaluck children had ever had, because they hadn’t had many good nights. There was one night, shortly after Lil’ Linda was born, when all three children had made ice cream, and they had pushed an old coffee can with the ice cream in it to churn it, while their parents napped on the couch after an utterly exhausting day of working in the coal mines. The night after their parents had won the lottery, the three children had stayed at Mr. Foe’s house, and had stayed up all night, too excited and rambunctious to even try to sleep. And of course, they had spent a few short and delightful nights while living with Count Omar.
But this particular night seemed even better. From the moment of Jeb’s arrival until bedtime, Steve told funny jokes and periodically left the room, a phrase which here means “didn’t keep watching them, because he wasn’t some scary murderer with a knife,” but Cousin Jeb thought maybe something unusual was going on. When they unpacked all of Cousin Jeb’s purchases, Steve didn’t know what elk repellant was, and Cousin Jeb asked about it.
“Aren’t you an expert in bird expeditions?” Cousin Jeb said.
“Actually, I’m fairly new at this,” Steve said humbly. “This is my first apprenticeship.”
When they went into the kitchen to have dinner, Steve smiled kindly at the children as he helped set the table, and Cousin Jeb asked him, “Have you met the children before, Steve? You’re looking at them like you know them.”
“Uh... say, what beautiful dishes you have there, Dr. Jebediah,” Steve said.
Over dinner, Steve told funny stories and praised Jeb’s scientific work, but Cousin Jeb was skeptical of this flattery and noticed Steve didn’t eat a whole lot of soup. And when Cousin Jeb announced that he would spend the evening showing his new assistant around the Avian Attic, he noticed the children were very excited to come along.
For the first time, having individual bedrooms seemed like a hardship rather than a luxury, for without one another’s company the children couldn’t talk about how wonderful their new friend was. Laurie stared at the bird feeders with her night vision goggles and tried to imagine Steve spying on the birds with her. Larry swam in his endless swimming pool without worrying about anything. Lil’ Linda snuggled her pillows and then climbed into her crib and slept for twelve hours straight.
All three children thought of walking down the hall to Cousin Jeb’s room and waking him up to ask him to take them to the twenty-four-hour grocery store to get cotton candy. But they all knew cotton candy is terrible for your health, so they decided not to wake Cousin Jeb up and went to sleep instead.
Finally, the light in the house turned the pale yellow-pink of early dawn, and the Lotsaluck children walked spritely down the stairs to breakfast, well-rested and ready from their sleepful night. They sat around the table where they had eaten cake on their first morning at the house, and ate their eggs politely. For the umpteenth time since their arrival at Cousin Jeb’s, they were eager to enter the Avian Attic and begin the day’s work.
“I suppose we get to go in now,” Laurie said finally, washing her empty plate. “I’m sure Cousin Jeb has already started working, and is expecting us.”
“And I’m sure Steve is there, too,” Larry said, staring happily at his empty place and thinking of how delicious his eggs over-easy had been. “He’s so nice! I know we’ve never met him before, but I have a good feeling about him.”
“Agniy,” Lil’ Linda said happily, licking the egg and butter remnants off his plate.
“If only Count Omar could be here,” Laurie said,” and Count Omar were friends with Cousin Jeb and Steve, then this would be the perfect day.”
“I know,” Larry said.
“I know you know,” Laurie said, “but what we don’t know is if Count Omar is keeping up with his diet and exercise. Steve is a little slimmer than Count Omar was, but he could probably benefit from eating healthy meals, too.”
“Maybe we can introduce Cousin Jeb and Steve to Count Omar after Mom and Dad get back from their cruise,” Larry said.
“All summer is a long time to wait,” Laurie said. The three children were quiet as they remembered where they had been last summer. Laurie had been thirteen, and her hair looked pretty much the same as it did now. She remembered that sometime around Flag Day, her pet goldfish had died. Larry had been about eleven, and he remembered how interested he had been in the doggy-paddle, sticking his tongue out and panting like a dog as he swam. Lil’ Linda, of course, had almost been born, and she remembered what it was like floating around inside her mother, kicking her periodically to show her how much she loved her. For all three youngsters, last summer did seem like a very long time ago.
“Oh boy, oh boy, you are already up and done with breakfast,” Cousin Jeb said, bursting into the room. His face seemed somewhat darker than usual, and he was holding a small bunch of folded papers in one hand. “Steve has figured out how to get through the tunnel to the Avian Attic – I must confess, I wasn’t sure if he would fit. He’s an enthusiastic spastic. He spilled coffee on these papers, and now I have to dry them off. We have lots to do today, and I’d like to use the home theatre to watch a terrible music video called Living People in the Rain at six o’clock tonight, so let’s try to hurry, hurry, hurry.”
Cousin Jeb looked at Laurie, and realized that this might be one of many opportunities to talk with the children alone, without Steve around, but he figured he should talk to them anyway. “Speaking of Steve,” he said skeptically, “I’d like to talk to you about him.”
The children’s eyes widened, and they looked around the room as if there were clowns in the room, which of course the children were terrified of for good reason. Clowns are terrifying. “We’d like to talk to you, too,” Laurie said. “But can we talk outside? There might be clowns in here.”
Cousin Jeb looked at the children in confusion. “What, now?” he asked.
“Of course,” Larry said. “The other night that horrible music video we watched and made fun of had clowns in it. There’s something a little spooky about them, and we -” Larry looked around again, and began speaking even louder, so Cousin Jeb had to cover his ears to prevent his ear drums from breaking. “And I think we should all go outside to escape from the clowns. Shall we?”
Cousin Jeb raised his eyebrows in disbelief, but led the children out. Leaving their clean dishes in the cupboards, which is a good thing to do in general, especially since this wasn’t an emergency, they walked out with Cousin Jeb to the front entryway, past the painting of the birds, out the front door, and onto the lawn, as if they wanted to talk to the bird feeders instead of to one another.
“I don’t mean to be skeptical,” Cousin Jeb began, using a word which here means “doubtful,” “but I’m not really sure Steve is a lab assistant.”
Larry blinked. It was an unexpected beginning for the conversation. “What do you meant?” he said. “Doesn’t he have a lab coat?”
“Well, yes, he actually has a number of white lab coats,” Cousin Jeb continued, as if he had heard, “more than my last assistant, actually.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Laurie said, puzzled.
“And when someone has that many lab coats,” Cousin Jeb said, shaking his head, “they are probably a doctor.”
What was Cousin Jeb talking about?
“What are you talking about?” Larry said, which is the impolite way of saying “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you, Cousin Jeb.”
“Last night, after you went to bed, Steve didn’t ask me any questions about all the birds and about my upcoming expedition. And do you know why?”
“Because he’s not nosy?” Laurie began, but Cousin Jeb interrupted her.
“It is because this man who is calling himself Steve,” he said, “is someone else who is just here to spend time with you. Do you three know what the word ‘ink’ means?”
“Yes,” Laurie said, “You see, in pens-”
“It means that I think Steve has a tattoo on his wrist,” Cousin Jeb said. “He’s Count Omar!”
“I know just what you mean!” Larry said excitedly. “Steve is just as kind as Count Omar. That is why he should come to the Average Canyon with us.” She lowered one hand to pat Lil’ Linda on the head. “As you know,” she said, “tomorrow we are leaving for the Average Canyon. Lil’ Linda has been practicing sleeping on top of the broken cage for a few days now, and she is ready to put her skills into action in the desert. She’ll probably sleep so well vultures will think she is dead and start circling her.”
“Sutcac!”
“I’m kidding about that. But I’m not kidding about this.” Laurie, her face flush with excitement, took a picture of herself and her siblings with Count Omar at the pony party out of her pocket. “This is Count Omar. He’s not got big, bushy eyebrows like Steve does. Tomorrow morning, we’re going to all get in your SUV and drive to the Average Canyon. That way we can run a successful expedition in peace.”
“That man is obviously the same person who is up the rope ladder in the Avian Attic right now,” Cousin Jeb said.
“Cousin Jeb, speaking of the Avian Attic, can we go back to work now?” Larry asked.
When somebody is a little right – say, when someone gets you and eighty-five percent dark chocolate bar instead of the ninety percent you prefer – it is often quite easy to accept the chocolate bar anyway and say thank you. But when someone is surpassingly right – say, when a person gives you a ninety percent dark chocolate bar with almonds and cinnamon in it – you can often be so surprised that you are unable to show any self-restraint and eat the chocolate bar in one sitting. Bouncing off the walls from the amount of caffeine consumed from the entire chocolate bar, your legs would not be able to stay still and your eyes wouldn’t blink at all, and you would be unable to stop talking at a fast pace of speech. This is what the Lotsaluck children did. Thinking they were right about Steve, that he was an ornithological assistant rather than Count Omar, the three children found lots of ways to tell Cousin Jeb so.
“He has big bushy eyebrows.”
“He wears a medical coat.”
“I think he has a badge saying he is from the Ornithological Society.”
“He’s really nice.”
“Weero!”
“Come now, my dears,” Cousin Jeb said, rubbing his forehead. “We’ve wasted enough of the morning on talk. We have to – ah!” He interrupted himself with a cry of surprise but not pain, and was completely drenched.
“Cousin Jeb!” Larry cried. The Lotsaluck children saw that Cousin Jeb had been completely doused in water, and realized a moment later what was happening: there was a fountain of water coming out of Larry’s room.
“Ah!” Cousin Jeb said again, wringing out his shirt. “I’m soaking wet.”
“But where is all this water coming from?” Laurie asked.
“It looks like it is coming out of that window,” Cousin Jeb said, pointing to where Larry’s room was. “Whose room is that? Larry, I believe it is yours. Why is there a fountain of water spewing from the window?”
“I put my personal pool right by the window and turn a timer on for the waves to go on full blast right at nine o’clock.”
“Really, Larry,” Cousin Jeb said. “Why would you do that? Please go turn it off at once.”
“Okay,” Larry said.
“I’ll help you, Larry,” Laurie said. “We’ll push the pool to a different spot in your room together.
“Well, don’t be too long,” Cousin Jeb said, rubbing his forehead some more. “We’ll see you in the Avian Attic. Come, Lil’ Linda.”
Walking through the entry hall, the four parted ways at the stairs, with Cousin Jeb and Lil’ Linda going to the rope ladder which led to the avian attic, and Laurie and Larry heading up the stairs to Larry’s room.
“I don’t know,” Larry said kindly to his sister, “why I did this.”
“I don’t know, either,” Laurie shouted. “Look at all this water on the floor.”
“Children, what happened here?” said a voice at the top of the stairs, and the children were so surprised they almost slipped on all the water on the floor. It was Steve, or, if you prefer, Steven. It was a nice guy.
“I set the pool on a timer so it would go on full blast,” Larry said calmly. “All the water spilled onto Cousin Jeb.”
“Dear me, dear me,” Steve said, his clean teeth showing as he smiled. “Let me help you mop all this water up, or it’s going to start pouring down these stairs like a waterfall. No, we don’t want that – not here in this house. Let me go get a mop and bucket.”
“And where would that be?” Laurie asked. “We haven’t had to use the mop yet.”
“Really?” Steve said, in that nice, nice voice. “Why, I had the impression you had been here a while.”
“Cousin Jeb only took us in recently,” Larry explained. “He’s a little confused right now, though. He thinks you’re someone named ‘Count Omar.’”
Steve’s smile turned into a nervous grin, and his white teeth seemed to grow bigger. His eyes grew so twinkly that Laurie and Larry couldn’t stop looking at them. “I don’t know who that is,” he said, in a wonderful, wonderful voice. “But even if I did, he sounds very nice, and I bet he has a lab coat just like the one I am wearing, only he’s a doctor, and not an ornithological assistant, so obviously we’re not the same person.” He pointed down the hallway to a closet. “The mop and bucket are in there.”
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Post by Foxy on Oct 7, 2019 8:58:43 GMT -5
Chapter 6
Good circumstances have a way of infusing happiness into things that would otherwise be only pleasant. So it was with the Lotsaluck children and the music video Living People in the Rain. All afternoon, the three children had worked in the Avian Attic, under the kind glances of Steve and the suspicious – the word “suspicious” here means “aware that Steve was really Count Omar in disguise but not in a great deal of danger” - supervision of Cousin Jeb. So by the time it was evening, the siblings were in the mood for comical entertainment. Cousin Jeb’s home theater was enormous, so there was plenty of room for him, Steve, and the Lotsaluck children to each have their own comfy arm chair, but the Lotsaluck children were too hyper to even notice their comfort.
The children all sat in a row in the home theater, with Cousin Jeb on one side, while Steve sat in the middle and shared popcorn with everyone while mysteriously not eating any himself. “I’m counting carbs,” he explained.
“We have a friend who is doing that,” Larry chimed in. “You should meet him!” The children failed to notice Cousin Jeb’s exasperated expression.
The children were so excited they ate all the snacks, and were not too busy trying to figure out who Steve was and therefore greatly enjoyed making fun of Living People in the Rain, which was the latest music video on MNF. When the living people first came out of their houses and started dancing in the streets, Laurie laughed at how horribly auto-tuned the singers’ voices were. When the rain came down, Larry laughed at how implausible the plot of the video was. And when the video finally ended, Lil’ Linda, who was of course not old enough to be watching television, clapped with glee that the horrible noises were finally over. Even the Believably Tuneful Chickadee could sing a song nicer than the one they just heard. Once the video was over, Cousin Jeb sighed.
“I wish I had learned how to sing,” he said. “My school did not have a music program because they spent all their money buying computers.”
“That’s so sad,” Laurie admitted. “Since you have so many beautifully-voiced birds, it is a shame you cannot sing with them.”
“Doeraymee,” Lil’ Linda agreed, and followed her siblings out of the home theater into her own room.
“Good night, Cousin Jeb,” the children called from their rooms. “Good night, Steve!”
“Good night,” the adults called to the children.
“I see you are looking unhappy,” Steve said gently. “You know, when I was in pre-medical sch- I mean, ornithology school, I took voice lessons for a few semesters as a hobby.”
“Really?” Cousin Jeb asked. “That is very fortunate for you.”
“In this situation, I could probably give you a few pointers in singing,” Steve said happily, “and then you can sing with your birds. Do you have a piano somewhere?”
“Well, you might say that,” Cousin Jeb said, using an expression which here means “yes, I do, and it’s in the basement.” “I have a piano in the basement, but it hasn’t been tuned in years.”
“And,” Steve continued, “I also happen to know how to tune pianos.”
“How did you learn that?” Cousin Jeb asked boisterously.
“We had a piano in our house when I was a child,” Steve said, “and when the piano tuner came over, he would teach me how to tune the piano.”
“That’s fascinating,” Cousin Jeb said, not shivering because it was summertime. “So you can tune my piano and teach me how to sing?”
“Just show me where the piano is,” Steve said, remembering all the times the piano tuner came to his house throughout his childhood, “I will get right to work, and you can have your first lesson in the morning before we leave for the Average Canyon.”
“Fantastic!” Cousin Jeb shouted, in a specific cry of joy, and pumped his adult-sized fist in the air. The word “specific” here means “when one is able to think of something to say,” and Cousin Jeb was alone in this. Steve was not much of a fist pumper, but he was excited, too.
And as fervently as Steve worked on tuning the piano in the basement, I do not with that I could somehow change the circumstances of this story for you. Even as I sit here, safe as can be and so very far away from villains and arsonists, I can hardly wait to write another word. Perhaps it would be best if you kept this book open right now and read all the rest of the words of this delightful story. You can read, if you wish, that an hour later, Steve had finished tuning the piano and was able to begin teaching Cousin Jeb how to sing. You can picture the children waking up the next morning to Cousin Jeb finally singing in tune, and Steve accompanying him on the piano. You can pretend, even though it is actually so, that the Lotsalucks continue to meet wonderful guardians all summer while their parents are away on a cruise. Or best of all, you can remember the Lotsaluck parents winning the lottery, which started the children’s wonderful adventures in the first place.
This story is a happy one, and I am happy to tell you that the Lotsaluck children slept soundly – the word “soundly” here means “without waking,” rather than “with sounds” - for the rest of the night. Had someone peeped through the bedroom windows as the morning sun rose, they would have seen the three children asleep on their own beds, their eyes closed with relaxation. But nobody peeped through the window, because that is called spying, and it is socially unacceptable. Somebody knocked on their doors, though, two quiet knocks, as if the person on the other side of their doors was trying to wake them gently.
The children blinked their eyes open and came to their doors. “Who is it?” Larry called out, his voice fresh from a good night of sleep.
Instead of opening their doors, which would be extremely impolite, the person answered, “It’s Steve.”
The children opened their doors to see Steve, with his clothes pressed and his eyes twinkling brighter than they ever had before.
“Good morning,” he said. “It’s almost time to leave for the Average Canyon. There is room for you three children, myself, and Dr. Jebediah in the SUV, so take your time.”
“I’m so excited we're all going to the average canyon!” Laurie said. She hoped her voice wasn’t too loud from all the excitement.
“We are all going,” Steve said, his bushy eyebrows staying still on his face.
“That’s right,” Larry said. “Where is Cousin Jeb?”
“Go find him,” Steve said, and the Lotsaluck children saw a familiar expression on his face. He had a big smile, and his eyes were twinkling with kindness. “Why don’t you go find him? He’s down in the basement.”
“We will go find him,” Laurie said. “Cousin Jeb must have a good reason for being down in the basement instead of in the Avian Attic.” She took the hands of her siblings, and walked slowly past Steve who was smiling in the hallway. “We will find him,” Laurie said again, and Steve gave a little wave as the children walked down the hallway.
The basement was extremely loud, and full of flowery wall paper. “Cousin Jeb?” Laurie called out, at the top of the stairs.
“I’m down here!” Cousin Jeb answered.
Aside from the stairs not being creaky at all, the whole house was comfortably noisy, as if it was filled with a loving family. “Cousin Jeb?” Larry called at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m over here,” Cousin Jeb called from the piano in the corner.
Standing flat-footed, Laurie ran to the piano in the corner where Cousin Jeb was standing. The children stared at him, but not as if they had been hypnotized, because hypnotism only happens in scary movies. In the bright light, they could see everything in the basement, which looked like it stored all of Cousin Jeb’s belongings that didn’t fit in the house.
Their footsteps pounding on the concrete, Larry and Lil’ Linda ran through the basement, toward the piano, where Cousin Jeb stood waiting for them. Even though the bright room felt familiar and cluttered, the children still wondered what they were doing down there. They remembered Cousin Jeb’s promise: that if they took the time to learn chord progression, they would enjoy the Avian Attic. But they weren’t in the Avian Attic. They were in the basement. However, you and I remember Cousin Jeb was going to teach the children music theory, but their lesson for today was going to be delayed, a word which here means “the Lotsalucks were going to have to wait for their music theory lesson of the day.” For just as they reached the piano, the three siblings could see Cousin Jeb open his mouth. Nervously, Larry took a step back. Cousin Jeb began to sing. His mouth was open the appropriate amount for singing, as if he knew what he was doing, and his eyes were focused on his music. His face, usually so rosy, was very, very rosy, and the sounds coming out of his mouth were actually matching pitch much better than when the children had heard him sing previously.
“Enotirab?” Lil’ Linda asked, and tugged on his pants leg. Cousin Jeb turned and smiled at her. As he had promised, the children had been enjoying the Avian Attic. Cousin Jeb had brought music to the children’s lives.
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Post by Foxy on Oct 7, 2019 8:59:07 GMT -5
Chapter 7
“My, my, my, my, my,” said a voice from behind them, and the Lotsaluck children turned to find Steve was standing there, the yellow duffle bag with no lock on it in his hand and a look of genuine happiness on his face. “Genuine” is a pretty common word for “real” but Larry still didn’t know what it meant. But the children did not have to be told that Steve was truly happy. “What a wonderful event has happened here. Learning to sing. Whoever hears you, Dr. Jebediah, will be most impressed.”
“You-” Laurie began to say, but her throat fluttered, as if the fact of Cousin Jeb’s learning to sing were food that tasted unimaginably good. “You-” she said again.
Steve took notice. “Of course, after all the people at the Ornithological Society hear you sing, they’ll wonder why you didn’t become a professional instead of working with birds. But then you wouldn’t get to have so many adventures. Speaking of which, it’s time to leave. A long cross-country trip will take us a few days to accomplish and I’d like us to see as much as we can in the day light. Also, drinking an entire bottle of wine before lunch is bad for your health.”
“How did you do it?” Larry asked. He took his eyes off Cousin Jeb’s rosy, rosy face. “How did you teach Cousin Jeb to sing? How did you know how to teach him?”
“Why, Larry, I’m not surprised,” Steve said, and walked over to Cousin Jeb. “I never told you I took voice lessons when I went to pre-me- I mean, ornithological school. I simply played one note at a time and taught Dr. Jebediah to match pitch. Listen to his wonderful voice.”
Cousin Jeb again started singing.
“Wow!” Laurie said. “Keep singing, Cousin Jeb!”
Cousin Jeb smiled. “All right, children. Steve is right! There’s no time for singing! We have a country to see! Let’s move!”
“We’re going with you,” Larry said. His face was relaxed with the lack of effort of focusing on much of anything. “I can’t wait to see the Average Canyon.”
“What’s the best vacation you’ve ever gone on before this one, Larry?” Cousin Jebediah asked.
“One time, Mom and Dad took me to the hardware store with them when our kitchen sink broke and they had to get a new part for it,” Larry said, in what he hoped was a pleasant tone of voice, and began to walk up the stairs to go get his luggage for the trip.
Steve dropped his duffle bag on the floor. It was pretty quiet because there wasn’t a lock on it. He took a few steps back and talked to Cousin Jeb. “The children,” Steve gasped, “have never been on a real vacation?”
“From what I understand, they didn’t have a lot of money before their parents won the lottery,” Cousin Jeb explained. “Let’s take our suitcases up to the SUV.
It is, as you know, very, very rude and usually unnecessary to point out to someone that they are poor, but the Lotsaluck children didn’t hear any of Steve and Cousin Jeb’s conversation. Taking another look of many at their lively Cousin Jeb, the three children came down the stairs with their luggage and followed Steve out of the house. To add icing on the cake – a phrase which here means “helping someone with a task when they are already in a good mood” - Steve helped Lil’ Linda carry her luggage out of the house, and she was surprisingly awake enough to appreciate the gesture. She remembered the last nap she had taken on Cousin Jeb’s lap, and thought with a warm rush of pride that it had been an excellent nap indeed. You will recall, of course, that while the children watched the music video Living People in the Rain, Lil’ Linda had been out cold, a phrase which here means “not even the most terrible singing in the world could have awakened her.” As the youngsters reached the SUV, Lil’ Linda remembered how Cousin Jeb had stroked her head gently to wake here so she could go up to her room to go to sleep. She thought that she had probably said “Wooka-booka, Jub-Jub,” when she had climbed to the floor, and she was pretty sure of that. Steve opened the door of the SUV and gestured with his hand, ushering the Lotsalucks into the back seats as he carefully packed their suitcases in the trunk for them. He got into the passenger’s seat beside Cousin Jeb. The children had a brief worry that the engine would not start when Cousin Jeb turned the key in the ignition, but this was an unnecessary worry. Sometimes their parent’s vehicle didn’t start because they didn’t have enough money for gas or repairs, but Cousin Jeb was affluent enough to be able to afford such things, and the SUV started right up.
Laurie, Larry, and Lil’ Linda looked in front of them as Cousin Jeb began to drive alongside the bird feeders. At the sight of the open road in front of them, which smelled so deliciously of mustard, the lightness of the Lotsalucks’ happiness lifted the poverty of their old lives off of them, and the children began to smile. It is a curious thing, good luck. We all have good days and bad days, and eventually hard times end. And yet it is always a surprise when something too good to be true really is true. It is like growing up in a very abusive home, and thinking there will never be any escape. You grow up into an adult, receive a job which helps you escape, meet a trustworthy spouse, and build a kinder family, and there are many moments of relief as you readjust the way you thought of things. The Lotsaluck children were smiling not only for the fun vacation they were about to go on, but also for their parents, who were finally getting to take a cruise after all these years of sacrificing their own personal happiness so their children would have food to eat and a place to live.
What sort of adventures awaited on this trip? Steve had heartfully taught the man who was taking care of them how to sing, and now they were all together. What would Steve do next? He was supposed to be left behind when they went to the Average Canyon, and now he was with them in the car. And what wonderful things would happen in the Average Canyon? Would they take lots of pictures? Would Steve teach Larry some vocabulary words? And what would happen to the three children afterward? These are safe questions, and if you are thinking about such matters, they don’t require too much attention, and the children weren’t really deep thinkers, so they realized another car was coming down the road.
“It’s Mr. Foe!” Larry cried.
It was Mr. Foe, changing his hat as usual, and the children were so delighted to see him that they found themselves grinning as each driver safely parked his car on opposite sides of the road. “Mr. Foe, Mr. Foe!” Laurie cried, reaching to open the back door.
Steve reached out and helped Lil’ Linda get out of the SUV, smiling so that each child saw his twinkling eyes. “This changes everything!” he said to them. “This is a bit of luck for all of us, and I hope we have more luck in the future. Maybe Mr. Foe will come with us to the Average Canyon.”
“You know Mr. Foe, too?” Laurie replied.
“Um, uh, no,” Steve said. “I’ve just heard you say nice things about him.”
“Oh, okay,” Laurie said. Larry followed her, walking beside Lil’ Linda. “Mr. Foe! Mr. Foe!”
“Laurie?” Mr. Foe asked. “Laurie Lotsaluck? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mr. Foe,” Laurie said. “It’s all of us, and we’re so grateful you ran into us like this. Of course, you didn’t run into us literally. It’s not as though we’ve been in a car accident!”
“Yes, I would say that,” Mr. Foe said. “We are both careful drivers. We didn’t run into each other.”
“Hi there, Mr. Foe!” Cousin Jeb shouted, and got out of the SUV himself, sniffing deeply at the smell of mustard that filled the air. He galloped over to where Mr. Foe was standing, and the entire way there he had a genuine look on his face of joy and mirth. “Hello,” he said in a low, steady voice. “It’s so good to see you again, Mr. Foe. I forgot all about your coming back with the children’s suitcases. “
“I hope your gas station is doing better, Mr. Poe,” Steve chimed in.
“It’s Foe,” Mr. Foe said. “My name is Foe. The gas station is doing better. Luckily, it looks like no people or animals were hurt. I wish the same could be said for my business, but we’ll bounce back. Count Omar, what are you doing here?”
“He’s not Count Omar!” Larry said, “He’s-”
“Please, Larry,” Mr. Foe appealed, a word which here means “requested that Larry not interrupt because it is not polite.” “This man is obviously Count Omar in disguise.”
“That’s what I tried telling the children,” Cousin Jeb said, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “But they insist he is my lab assistant, Steve.”
“What do you mean Steve?” Mr. Foe asked sternly. “Did you change your identity?”
Steve shrugged his shoulders. “We’re going on a fun trip, Mr. Woe. Dr. Jebediah is driving.”
“Foe,” Mr. Foe said. “A trip? That’s wonderful. Where are you going?”
“The Average Canyon,” Cousin Jeb said. “I think I mentioned it when you were here before. That’s why we were in the SUV, to drive to the Average Canyon. The children insisted Count Omar come with us.”
“He’s not Count Omar!” Larry exclaimed. “He’s an ornitholigical assistant.”
At this, everyone’s jaw dropped in amazement. Larry had just uttered a six-syllable word.
“You see what I mean?” Steve said to Mr. Foe, patting Larry’s head. “The children are obviously becoming quite the intellectuals. Dr. Jebediah should continue taking us on our trip.”
Now Mr. Foe was the one rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Is this okay with you, Cousin Jeb? I don’t want you to have to cancel your expedition.”
“I knew you’d come to your senses, Mr. Foe!” Larry said excitedly.
“Please,” Mr. Foe said exasperatedly. “I’m not telling you you are right.”
“Well, I guess there’s no reason not to go,” Cousin Jeb said. “It’s not like Count Omar is a villain who forced me to eat a poisonous pitohui. Let’s put the children’s luggage in the back of the SUV.”
Steve gave a thumbs up to the Lotsalucks who beamed at him.
“Joseph!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, which probably meant something like “Did you remember to bring my colorful coat Mrs. Foe made for me?”
“Yes, it’s in your bag,” Mr. Foe said, “and you can call me at the gas station if you need anything.”
Steve winked, and for a second his face grew happy again before he helped take the bags out of Mr. Foe’s car and pack them in the back of the SUV. “Of course,” he said. “We’ll call you if you need anything. Obviously, we’re all thinking clearly enough to remember that. Here, children, get back in the SUV. Mr. Foe, do you care to follow us to the Average Canyon.?”
“We’re getting back in the vehicle with you,” Larry said happily, giving Steve a hug.
“Please, Larry,” Mr. Foe said. “Try to understand. Count Omar has dressed up as an ornithological assistant.”
“I don’t get how they’re not seeing it,” Cousin Jeb said. Mr. Foe nodded, and walked back to his car. He sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine made a smooth, normal noise – it sounded quite a bit like a car starting – because it was.
“Have a nice vacation!” Mr. Foe called out.
“We will!” Steve said aloud to Mr. Foe. “Have a nice day!”
“Thank you,” Mr. Foe said. “I could hear you.”
Steve smiled. “Why don’t we take the children to the Average Canyon, and we can camp and tell ghost stories? I brought some homemade marshmallows for just the occasion.”
Cousin Jeb smiled. “I do like homemade marshmallows. I don’t want them to go to waste. Now that we have the luggage in the back of the SUV, why don’t we get going?”
Steve smiled. “That sounds like a great plan.”
Cousin Jeb frowned. “But I do know who you are. You’re not going to be very helpful at identifying birds.”
“Oh, Cousin Jeb,” Laurie said, finally speaking up. She had been waiting for the proper moment to make her case. “Lots of people have tattoos of noses on their wrists.”
“What are you talking about?” Cousin Jeb said. “I am guessing the number of people with noses on their wrists is actually quite small.”
“I think Laurie is right,” Steve replied, smiling back at Laurie.
Laurie took a deep breath. “This man is Steve,” she said, not pointing at him because it is not very polite to point.
“Do I look like this Count Omar?” Steve asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Yes, you do,” Cousin Jeb said. “You just have bushier eyebrows.”
“It would be difficult to grow bushier eyebrows,” Laurie said.
“And anyone can go to a tattoo parlor and get a tattoo,” Larry said quietly.
“I give up,” Cousin Jeb said, and the temporary guardian began driving down Lovely Loop with the Lotsalucks and his ornithological assistant.
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Post by Foxy on Oct 7, 2019 8:59:25 GMT -5
Chapter 8
While the SUV drove steadily down the highway, the Lotsaluck children sang car songs, the scent of mustard long gone and a feeling of euphoria in their hearts. It is very encouraging to be in the company of a temporary guardian and his ornithological assistant, even if one’s gas station attendant and temporary guardian continue to tell you he is actually a former temporary guardian of yours. Right?
“I like your tattoo,” Larry said happily to Steve, who was looking over a map, “and I think I want to get one just like it.”
“Larry,” Cousin Jeb said, when he had stopped laughing, “Tattoo removal is very expensive. You may want to mull that decision over for a while before putting a permanent mark on your skin. ‘Mull’ means-”
“That’s that place downtown Mom and Dad never took us with all the shops,” Larry said, watching Steve map the best route to the Average Canyon.
“No, that’s a mall,” Cousin Jeb said.
Larry looked at his siblings and sighed. It would be easier, he realized, to read the pocket dictionary Steve had given him than to keep guessing what words meant. Laurie was about to try explaining the definition of ‘mull’ to him when Cousin Jeb pulled over to help a vehicle with its flashers flashing on the side of the road.
“May we help you?” Cousin Jeb called, as he got out of the vehicle.
“I am Dr. Rucamont,” the man said, and the children noticed he had very nice hands, as though he were once a hand model. “I am supposed to be going to the Average Canyon to study elk, but my car battery has died because I left the lights on overnight.”
“You’re going to the Average Canyon too?” Cousin Jeb asked. “What a coincidence! We are going there as well, to study birds.”
“I believe nature is good for mental health, don’t you?” Dr. Rucamont said. “If I spend a few days outdoors, petting the elk, it should calm my nerves.”
“Of course, of course,” Cousin Jeb said quickly. “Well, I have jumper cables. Let’s get your car battery operating again.”
“Where are the cables?” Dr. Rucamont asked, walking toward the SUV.
“Steve can tell you,” Cousin Jeb said, pointing at Steve, who had not gotten out of the SUV.
“I’m really craving a doughnut,” Steve called out the window. “Did we pack any carrots?”
“I have a bag of carrots,” Dr. Rucamont said. “They were left over from a party I went to recently.”
Cousin Jeb frowned. “Who brings carrots to a party?”
“Yes, Dr. Rucamont,” Steve said, looking a little nervous. “Who brings carrots to a party?”
“Oh, um, I suppose you’re right,” Dr. Rucamont said. “It wasn’t a very good party.”
“Well there’s no need to go that far,” Steve said, looking hurt. “Please jump your car, and then you can follow us to the Average Canyon.”
“You’re the boss,” Dr. Rucamont said, and followed Cousin Jeb to the back of the SUV to get the jumper cables. Steve tapped his fingers nervously on his knee, and the Lotsalucks cheerfully struck up a conversation. When one is particularly amicable, one can use the expression “struck up a conversation,” because if there is a lull in the conversation, there is a real need for a topic to be brought up. As Steve continued nervously tapping his fingers on his knee, the three children began to speak.
“When we were at a party recently,” Laurie said, “We had carrots, too.”
“Yes,” Larry said firmly. “They were for ponies. And a donkey.”
Steve smiled as the children talked about the party, looking happily at Larry. “Larry, I realize you had fun at the party, and that is understandable. Please tell me about it at once.”
“Yes!” Larry cried. “It was a pony party. There were ponies and cake. Lil’ Linda won the prettiest pony contest with her pony.”
“Pony?” Laurie said. She turned to Larry and wondered if he didn’t know the difference between a pony and a donkey. “Why did you say pony, Larry?”
Larry’s face brightened, and his hands waved in the air. It looked like there was nothing he wanted to do more than hug Laurie. “I misspoke,” he said finally.
“Of course, he did,” Steve said, craving a carrot. “But how did Lil’ Linda really win the prettiest pony contest?”
“Her pony was a donkey,” Larry said, his eyes beaming. “It was a small pony. But Lil’ Linda liked it better than all the ponies.”
The three children loked at one another and didn’t think very much. Their situation seemed like a game, although this game was not particularly competitive. The object of the game was to have as much fun as possible as they went from guardian to guardian. What would happen then, when they were at the Average Canyon, they wanted to think about. What they had to think about was making it happen. It seemed incredible that their parents had won the lottery, and now they were having tons of fun, and in life it is rare for your family to win the lottery.
“That Dr. Rucamont has nice hands,” Laurie said without caution, “and I recently met someone else with nice hands.”
“You did?” Steve asked.
“I guess I never noticed before, how many people have nice, model-like hands,” Laurie said, thinking she had made a grand discovery.
“Oh yes, me neither,” Larry said. “I was always more worried about whether or not there would be food for dinner.”
“Did someone say food?” Dr. Rucamont said, surprising the children and Steve. “I still have that bag of carrots.”
“Have you gotten your car up and running again?” Steve asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Rucamont said. “Dr. Jebediah and I have gotten my car operating again. Do you want any carrots?”
“Of course,” Steve answered, and took a carrot from the large bag Dr. Rucamont held with his model-like hands.
“Are we there yet?” Larry asked no one in particular.
“What do you mean?” Cousin Jeb said quizzically. “We’re pulled over on the highway and haven’t moved for twenty minutes.”
“What I think Larry means,” Steve said, “is that we should get going.”
“I will follow you in my vehicle,” Dr. Rucamont said.
“Are you planning on going on our expedition with us?” Cousin Jeb asked.
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Rucamont said. “Perhaps we can study birds and elk together.”
“What?” Laurie asked. “That’s a ridiculous theory. We have elk-repellant packed in our luggage.”
“Perhaps I will give up the study of elks,” Dr. Rucamont said tensely, munching carrot. “Is there anything else there to study? I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be able to study elks.”
“This whole situation is a little odd,” Cousin Jeb said. He looked questioningly at Dr. Rucamont, who was opening a book on animals of the Average Canyon and peering inside.
“Life, I have found, is often odd,” he replied.
“That sounds like a reasonable explanation to me,” Laurie said. “You were-” She stopped. “You are on your way to the Average Canyon. We are on our way to the Average Canyon. Why wouldn’t you give up on your study of elk so you can join us?”
“That’s the spirit,” Dr. Rucamont said.
“And I,” Steve added slowly, “hardly know anything about birds. I’ve only been working with you for a few days and scarcely had time to learn anything.”
“It certainly seems to be suspicious,” Cousin Jeb said. “Children, what is going on here?”
“We’re going to the Average Canyon,” Laurie said loudly. “And Dr. Rucamont is joining us.”
“Hip hip hooray!” Larry cried out suddenly, his face formed into a big smile. He pointed at Dr. Rucamont. “You can swim and capture birds with me!”
“I was only going to study animals,” Dr. Rucamont said. With one of his fantastically beautiful hands, he held up his book he had bought only yesterday.
“Please,” Cousin Jeb said slyly to Dr. Rucamont. “The children are very excited. I’m sure you can understand that. Laurie, Larry, Lil’ Linda, why don’t we get back on the road? We have a long way to drive, and we want to get to the Average Canyon as soon as possible. Now, Dr. Rucamont, get back in your car. You can follow us to the Average Canyon. And you, Steve, will continue navigating.”
“So it’s very simple,” Steve said. “You and I and the children will ride in the SUV, and Dr. Rucamont will follow us in his vehicle.”
“Yes,” Larry said happily.
“Lotsalucks,” Cousin Jeb said, just as happily, “will you three please buckle your seat belts?”
“Poofa!” Lil’ Linda shrieked, which probably meant “I don’t have the coordination to do that, someone please buckle me in.”
“Of course I will,” Laurie said, giving Larry and Lil’ Linda a happy look, and buckling her sister into her car seat. Larry and Lil’ Linda looked up at their older sister, and saw that nothing had changed about her. She was just as gleeful as ever.”
And years later, everyone slept great when they remembered how they had invited Dr. Rucamont to join them on their expedition to the Average Canyon.
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