circuswater: February 2014

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Circuswater 13 - THE DEVICE by R. Lewis...

  Even though I had no idea about what time it was, I could tell that it was much later than I thought it should be.
  "Count the minutes and the hours count themselves," is what Gramps used to tell me when I looked at the wall clock with a puzzled look in my eyes. I'd always nod, as if I undersood, but could never figure out how to count a minute. There's just too durn many of 'em!
  Well, that was kind of an odd place to start my story, but I've been under a lot of pressure lately. You know...with that global warming thingy and...um...all those other issues an' all, so please, be patient with me!
  It really started when 3 guys wearing ski masks barged into my apartment, unannounced! They didn't have skis or ski poles, just a strange looking device that was about the size of a bread box. Admittedly, I've never actually seen a bread box, but I've spent so many idle hours of my life thinking about them, that I was secure in my estimate.
  "Hear now, what's the meaning of this intrusion?!" were the last words I remember saying before waking up tied and gagged with an aching lump on my forehead!
  Two of the three ski masked intruders were fiddling with the device that they'd set on my kitchen table. The third intruder was playing a violin, and playing it quite well. "It's set, let's scram," said one of the two fiddling intruders. "It's gonna go off in 1 hour...that gives us enough time to be safely away from this doomed area and time enough for our dopey friend here (Hey!) to finish watching this rerun of Blossom and most of whatever the hell comes on after," guffawed the 2nd fiddler in a sarcastic tone that I didn't much appreciate!
  Just as the rude, mask wearing thugs were opening my door to leave, Angie Dickenson, (no relation to the actress) the young girl who lived across the hall from me, was opening her door to leave. Angie let out a scream, but everyone in the building was used to hearing Angies high pitched screams, if you catch my drift. No one investigated.
  The evil, bread box hooligans pulled Angie into my unit. They tied and gagged her, sat her in my recliner, gave her the universal "shush" sign and boldly exited my apartment.
  Angie looked over at me with frightened eyes. I wanted to tell that I couldn't change the channel, that she's have to suffer through 1/2 an episode of Blossom and most of a rerun episode of Saved by the Bell (hopefully an early one with Hayley Mills) until the device on my kitchen table exploded, or detonated, or blew up, or whatever it is treacherous devices do, but I was tied & and gagged - I came off like a seal with a lump on its head begging for fish (or is that fishes?) and that seemed to make her even more frightened.
  She looked me up and down, I couldn't help but to feel a bit feverish when Angie averted her eyes below my waist, then below her waist and then back again. She did this several times as if she were trying to send me a sexy signal. Embarrassed by my body's response, I crossed my legs to hide a natural reaction. It was then I realized the masked mashers had forgotten to tie my ankles together. Angie shook her head as if to say "That's what I was talkin' about, ya big dope!" (Hey!)
  I got up, stumbled over to the coffee table, turned my back, managed to pickup the remote and selected the Lifetime channel. Angie shook her head violently and motioned (with her eyes) to the On/Off switch on front of the device ticking on my kitchen table.
  I was a little distracted at first because the Drew Peterson movie was being rerun on the Lifetime network, and when I'd tried to watch the premiere, I fell asleep and missed the end. "Was Drew the killer?" I tried to ask with my robin's egg blue eyes. Angie glared back, and with her head and body - motioned to the device again.
  "Oh yeah" I mimed, and then managed to hop over to the ticking device, flip the switch to the OFF position, hurry back to the sofa and catch the ending of the Drew Peterson movie. Unfortunately the ending credits were already running.
  "Curses, I guess I'll never know if Drew was the killer!" I mumbled to my bondage buddy, who was giving me the evil eye.
  The 3 masked men (the ones who caused all the ruckus in my apartment) were eventually arrested down state for fishing with expired licenses and each of 'em had to pay a $25.00 fine. Go Justice!!!
  Angie and I never spoke about that evening again, come to think of it, she never even said so much as hello to me before and/or after that evening. In the following weeks, Angie Dickenson moved away. Some say she moved back to Canada, others say she moved into that building across the street, the one with the modern security system.
FIN

ps I'd like to thank Angie Dickenson (the actress) for teaching me a shaving method that helps save water!