//|\\ thomas edward wilk \\|//
Spoiling the Ending of a Long Story
(continued from page 87)
“Come on, it’s getting late, I want to get to bed. I have been putting this humpus-pumpus on all day. Come on, big finish now.”
A couple bewildered guests and liquored lunatics still milled about, the woman with the Cheshire cat batted her eyes towards the gift table where Jordan sat. She lipped smoke rings across, and then pretended to yawn.
He was quite tired of playing, so Pierre cast the wrapping paper garbage off the table and found his card. He slapped it into her hand. Wilhelma remained motionless, no shock, no emotion.
“Here you go, other mother, this is from me,” Pierre said.
He took it back out of her useless hand and ripped it open himself. It was a blank white card with something inside.
“I have arranged a beautiful island getaway for you,” forcefully, “I have made plans for you to take a most delightful cruise, maybe they’ll even let you go scuba diving or not.”
She flinched. There were pleasant ooos and aaahs and from the audience. The woman with the Cheshire cat stroked her cat with her long fingers and once again looked at Jordan.
“Well, I guess that’s it, you can all go home, no one is getting married, and no one is taking the money,” Pierre said.
“Wait, I have a present for mother,” Jordan said.
“Eew. You called her ‘mother,’” Pierre said.
“Yes I did. You should respect your mother.”
“She’s not our mother, she buried our mother.”
“This is for you mother,” Jordan said kindly. He motioned over to the draped painting.
“…Why Jordan, I am surprised, oh, oh, just, let’s see it,” Wilhelma said. She smiled and touched Jordan’s arm.
“Of course,” Jordan said.
The curtain dropped.
“Think of it while you’re on your cruise ship.”
The painting was not completely unlike how small Molly Erickson recalled. The vivid blues and violets of the sea supported a large ship above them. The large ship seemed to glide along peacefully, parting through the placid sea. Jordan did a most wonderful job recreating Wilhelma’s likeness in the masterpiece as well. Her shriveled body was hardly nourishment for sharks, as her body was portrayed floating a short distance from the ship, facedown and bloated in the salty water.
She fell over, instantly dead. The force of all the impractical rocks on her bony fingers hitting the ground caused a small tremor.
“Well folks, this concludes the birthday party,” Pierre said.
“Aww,” the guests said, but they were not enjoying themselves anyway.
The woman with the Cheshire cat applauded, the Ericksons were indifferent, and a couple party poopers were offended. The carrion would later be placed with the musicians.
Pierre and Jordan bowed. Mr. Gliceforth shrugged. He put on a pair of golashes,
for he was expecting a flash flood when he got home.