A Drive in the Country

“Well Ma, what do you say to a nice drive in the country?”

“I don’t feel much like it Pa.”

“Aw come on Ma, it’s a beautiful day. The sun is sunning and there t’aint a cloud in the whole gosh gum sky.”

“It is nice out Pa. But I just don’t think I can… not after what happened.”

“I told you Ma. That was a mistake. We all make mistakes. Why just last week you put three sugars in my coffee instead of two. I forgave you.

“That’s not the same thing as killing a man Pa.”

“Now Ma, we don’t know that he’s dead. He was still moving when we left. It was his own fault really if you think about it some. Standing so close to the road. It was a wonder that he hadn’t been hit by ten or so cars by then.”

“I can still see his face. It haunts me.”

“We probably did him a favor. Why no man out in the country alone like that could be up to any good. Why I’m sure if we hadn’t hit him, he would have asked to. When you think about it like that, it’s practically neighborly. Plus, if you picture the whole thing with a funny jig playing, and a slide whistle sliding, I’ll bet you won’t be able to stop yourself from smiling.”

“I still think we should tell someone Pa. What if he had a family. I bet they’re mighty worried.”

“Now why would you say something like that Ma. There’s no reason to go and start talking crazy like.”

“What are you doing with that wrench Pa?”

“You’re not making any sense Ma. You need to calm down some. Let Pa make things all better.”

“Pa. Please Pa. No! I won’t tell. I won’t tell Pa. Please.”

“You’ll be a good girl Ma?”

“I’ll be good. Please. I’ll be good.”

“All right Ma, forget about the country. What do you say to getting a big scoop of ice cream down at the drug store?”

Gentle Sobs

The Showdown

Eureka! We have toilet paper! The amazing sight before his eyes, that of two-ply rolled around a cardboard cylinder would have been much less astounding at most times of his life. These were special circumstances, however.

For the past two and a half weeks, Josh and his roommate had been locked in a bitter struggle over who would purchase replacement for that long forgotten roll, a roll which now seem to have existed only in the distant past.

Indeed, the previous occupant of the spindle – a wall mounted servant to King John – was now the stuff of legend. "Four ply she was, a roll that stretched farther than even a horse could travel between two moons. And soft. Soft as a lover's bosom." At least that was how Josh remembered back when he and his roommate had been blessed with such silken finery.

This fierce drought had taken its toll. For half a month, Josh had treated his own bathroom strictly as a place for showering and liquid relief. He was careful that the two tasks never mixed, and prayed daily that his roommate maintained a similar policy.

Now though, he'd finally be able to use this room of his two bedroom flat to his full advantage. The possibilities, while certainly not endless, had obviously increased. Best of all, he was the clear victor in the cold war of toilet paper. Last night the other man must have blinked, or wiped, he thought, as the roll was nearly finished.

"It doesn't matter though," thought Josh while finishing his business, still needing a few more squares to be truly satisfied with his work. "I've won. Score one for the red team!" Josh had no particular reason for his affinity for the phrase "red team," but this didn't matter.

Now in all his "red team not wanting to purchase community bathroom supplies out of simple principle" glory, he looked to the top shelf for the rest of the now opened tissue products. But only disappointment followed.

He examined the single slip of paper with its glum message:


-Josh
didn't have time to tell you. ganked half a roll from Allison downstairs. We really need more when you get a chance.

-Rob

Great. What now? He crumpled the green slip of paper and looked down at his hands. Fortunately, frustration had provided his answer.