Interactive Stories : Improvisational Fiction

06.08.2012

Rummage Sale (Completed)

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He found another item for Antiques Roadshow. He starts saying, "Woo-ee!" and carrying on the garage. Hortense’s face lights up and she clasps her hands together.

"Gomer, did you find something else?" she calls over.

We hear him say, "Now, this is bound to fetch a pretty penny." He comes out of the garage carrying a brown ceramic plate with the black and white profile of a cartoon goat on it.

"My cracker plate?"

"What makes you say that?" I ask him.

"One thing I learned from those people on the show, if it’s old and ugly, chances are it’s worth something."

"Gomer, I don’t see how they could want that. Maybe someone would like to hang it in a kid’s room," says Hortense.

"Mark my words," he says, going into the house with his plate.

"Alright," I say to my sale soldiers, Hortense and Mary. "Let’s get these signs up. Rule is everything is half-off. No negotiating. If someone is trying for a lower price and might walk, let me know and I’ll work it out."

"Got it, boss. I can put these up," Mary says and takes the signs and tape.

"I’m going to go around and consolidate some of the tables. Hortense, Elmer put a sold sign on the TV, didn’t he?"

"Yes, it’s there."

"Good. We need to take down that sign about an item in the house."

"I can do it," says Mary and she heads over.

I look at my watch. It’s 2:55 and I see people walking down the driveway. One of the ladies, Ruth, from town, yells over, "Sale time yet, Fran?"

"Just about. Feel free to look around."

Elmer bursts out from the side door. "I told ya, I told ya, I told ya!"

"What is it, honey," says Hortense.

He walks over with the goat plate and holds it up. "What do you suppose this is worth?"

"Not much," I say.

"Well, you’d be wrong. I looked it up on the computer and found a picture of this exact thing. It says $6,000, maybe as high as $9,000 depending on wear and tear."

Hortense puts her hand over her mouth. "I was using it for crackers! I hope I didn’t scratch it up! But I always hand-washed it."

"Who in their right mind would pay that kind of money for a goat on a plate?" I say as Mary walks back from posting the sign by the road.

Gomer says, "It’s a 'tay-tay duh chevray duh pro-fill.' I think that’s French."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Goat head profile."

I can’t help but shake my head.

"Did someone famous make it, is that why?" asks Hortense.

"Picasso."

Mary says, "I thought he’s the guy who made paintings of squashed up people who look like they’ve been in a car accident."

"You’re saying I was putting crackers on some plate made by Picasso that’s worth thousands of dollars?" Hortense says.

"How in God’s green earth did you even ever get that thing?" I ask her.

"At a rummage sale."

"Listen, Fran," Gomer says, getting serious all of a sudden, "I think we need to end this sale. We need to go through and make sure we’ve pulled out all the ugly things for the Antiques Roadshow."

"We’ve got customers and everyone knows my sales run until 6 p.m.," I say.

The four of us look around at the people browsing.

"And then," I add, "once you take what you need out of it, what’re we going to do with all this inventory? I don’t want any of it in my house."

"Hi, Reverend Miller," Hortense calls over as the clergyman comes down the driveway.

"Good afternoon." He smiles and walks over.

"You doing a little shopping for yourself or you need something for the church?" I ask.

"I was going to take a look at the books though we’re having the church rummage sale in two weeks so I probably shouldn’t be picking up anything now. I guess that’ll be my insurance in case I don’t like the book. I can sell it soon," he says.

"There’s some good items still left. I think there’s a book on gardening that you might like. I saw you have some gardens around your yard."

"Thank you. I’ll take a look." He smiles and walks away.

"Well, what’re we going to do then?" says Gomer.

"Gomer, can I talk to you for a second?" says Hortense. Gomer says okay and they walk several feet away and talk about something.

Mary raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "What’s that all about? Think she’s telling him off about trying to end the sale?"

"Couldn’t say. Hortense isn’t usually one to have side conversations."

A woman comes up to check out so Mary steps over to the table to help her. Hortense and Gomer come back to where I’m standing.

"Say, Fran, we were thinking," says Hortense, "what if we pay you out for the goods you have left in the sale, and then we close down early. We’ll have to find out about the goat but we know the brooch is worth something, and we wouldn’t have figured that out if it weren’t for this sale today."

"Fran, we need to close down this sale. I just don’t feel comfortable about it, and I agree with Hortense that giving you some money is fair," Gomer says. "Why don’t we put up a sign saying the sale ended early and go get some dinner. We can come back in time for those guys picking up the TV."

"What about the remaining inventory?" I say.

Hortense is looking toward the garage thinking about it. "Why don’t we donate it to the Reverend for their sale?"

Within 15 minutes, we’ve taken down the signs, finished checking out the remaining buyers with Gomer looking over all the purchases, and the Reverend is thanking us for the donation. He tells us he’ll ask one of the church members to give Gomer and Hortense a call to arrange a time to pick up the items.

"Alright! Let’s close up shop," Gomer says and the three of us and Mary put all the yard items into the garage and close the doors. "I’ll go through that tomorrow morning. Right now, let’s go get dinner, ladies. It’s on me."

"It’s not even 4:00 p.m. yet," says Mary.

"You want to come along or you’re headed back home?" I say to her.

"I have to get back. It was great helping today, though. You guys are a lot of fun."

"You think you’ll be up to helping out when we have another one?"

"Yeah, for sure."

"I’ll even get you a t-shirt like mine."

"Next time, I’m thinking we should sell baked goods and drinks—go for some impulse purchases at the checkout table."

"You’re quite an entrepreneur."

So that was our sale. A closed garage ripe with possibilities for Gomer and the Reverend, Mary telling stories to her mom that evening, and Gomer, Hortense and I having a nice dinner of chicken, rice, and rolls.

THE END

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10.02.2012

Wealth (In Progress)

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Facing the clerk, Augustus detects
the disdain in his gaze, and thus he suspects
not having the cash to buy from the store,
it may serve him better to leave than implore

He exits the store and sees from the time,
he hadn’t the minutes to stand in the line
for he needs to get ready for his shift as a guard
that swings into midnight on his timecard

He returns to his building and enters his flat,
Changes his clothes and puts on a hat
Dressed in his uniform, ticket in hand
the next hours are grains of hourglass sand

"The moment approaches; it's nearly here now,
Is it possible Rhett, my loyal chow chow
tomorrow in the morning our lives will be new,
washed in good fortune and dollars like dew?"

06.05.2012

Birdcall (Completed)

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The bird and Gavin fly downstairs and go in and out of the rooms looking for a way out of the house. They hear Gavin’s mom saying, "Shoo! Shoo!" as she runs downstairs to look for the birds by the front door.

Gavin flies out of the kitchen and sees that she’s away so he flies toward the stairwell to go back to the window in his parents’ room. The bird is scared and still flying frantically around the kitchen. "This way! This way!" Gavin calls to him. "Hurry before she comes back!" The bird darts out of the kitchen, through the dining room and over to the living room. The fireplace’s glass doors are open so the bird flies into it thinking it might lead outside.

Gavin’s mom spots Gavin (the bird version) near the staircase and shouts, "Go outside!" and swings the broom at him. Gavin flies upstairs as fast as he can. He goes into his parents’ bedroom, and finding the window still open, flies out into the backyard.

Gavin lands on a lower tree branch and looks at the back of his house. The sun is setting and the windows have a yellow glow. It’s peaceful in the yard but he knows his friend is still scared inside. He hopes that the bird heard him calling to go back upstairs, and watches the bedroom window to see if he flies out. He waits. He doesn’t see the bird and worries that he’ll get hurt trying to get outside. Gavin hops down to the grass. He knows his friend needs help.

"Mom! Mom!" Gavin calls as he goes back toward the house. He tries to fly and can’t so he has to run to the side door. It’s still closed but as he goes up to it, he finds he is again a boy and can reach out his hand to turn the handle. He runs inside the house. "Mom! Mom! I’m here!"

He hears his mom call down from upstairs. "Gavin! Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I was starting to get worried." She comes downstairs.

"Where’s your broom?"

"What broom? The kitchen broom? In the kitchen."

"Mom, the bird needs help! He’s still here, isn’t he?" Gavin runs into the living room.

"What bird?" His mom follows him into the room. Gavin goes over to the fireplace. He hears a fast fluttering noise and then it stops. He hears the sound again, more loudly with some scratching, which must be from the bird’s feet. "Is something in there?" she says.

"It’s the bird, Mom! How do we get him out?"

His mom comes closer and looks inside. "It is a bird! A mockingbird. How in the world did it get in there?" Gavin’s mom leaves the room and comes back with a white sheet. She opens the window closest to the fireplace and removes the screen. A moth that had been hovering near the window flies inside the house. “I’m not sure how to do this but let’s give it a shot.” She opens the fireplace doors all the way. She unfolds the sheet and gives one end to Gavin. "I was thinking we could hold this up like a wall so the bird will go toward the window."

They stand to the side of the fireplace and hold up the sheet. The open window is just a few feet away. The bird continues to flutter around inside.

"Hmm. It’s not coming out," his mom says. "Maybe I should get the broom."

"Wait! Let me try." Gavin makes a birdcall sound.

"Where did you learn that?"

"From him." Gavin makes ur-ee, ur-ee, ur-ee sounds that he means to say, "It’s okay. The window is open for you. It’s safe to come out."

The bird turns in the direction of the sound and finds the fireplace doors open. He flies out and feels a breeze from his outside home. He goes toward the window and flies through the opening.

"Yeah!" his mom says. Gavin runs over to the window to see if he can spot the bird. "You’re a hero! How did you know it was in here?"

"We take care of each other. He’s my friend."

"You amaze me sometimes." Gavin’s mom walks over and kisses his head. "Time for bed, buddy."

They go upstairs and as he passes his parents’ bedroom, Gavin hears the bird chirping his thanks from a backyard tree.

"Oh, the window!" Gavin’s mom runs into the bedroom to close the window before another bird flies inside the house. Before the window closes, Gavin chirps in reply to his friend, "You’re welcome. Good night."

THE END

Comments? Please add them at the end of the completed story.