Time once again for something totally different. I originally wrote this short story/piece of Flash Fiction a couple years ago, then went back in and re-wrote it; taking a few things out and adding some new stuff this past fall. After entering it in a few literary contests, followed by sending it out to various other literary sources with no takers, I’ve decided it needs to see the radiant light of publication. Short-n-sweet, since its Flash Fiction and easy to get through in a single sitting.

Word Count: 998

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding New Meaning

In Utter Chaos

 

You’re probably wondering to yourself, why on God’s green earth would somebody who despises children in the same way most cattle ranchers shutter at the prospect of having to attend a vegan Thanksgiving dinner, volunteer to chaperone a group of fifth graders on a class field trip? To the NYC Metropolitan Museum of Art. The experience involves having to come up with all sorts of creative ways to maintain the Little Peoples’ interest while confronting a steady barrage of smartphone distractions. Which is basically comparable to sailing directly into the heart of a hurricane and not expecting to confront a breeze as you’re floating into the blackness.

No, I don’t totally dislike kids. I just keep remembering that W. C. Field’s quote in moments of hopelessness and despair,“There’s no such thing as a tough child, just parboil them long enough and they come out quite tender.”

I’ve got sort of a love/hate opinion of the way my sister and brother-in-law have raised their son & daughter. In one sense, I totally admire the way the two of them have raised their children to be independent, free spirited, totally creative individuals who will go on to achieve all sorts of wonderful things in their future. Christina & Miles read to their kids regularly, keep them on a fairly tight leash, and most of the time when I visit the four of them, the kids show me a new, elaborate play structure courtesy of their father’s fertile, unlimited, and very expansive mind.

As to their future? They’re young, so it’s still too early in their lives to imagine where they’ll end up. At this point, I’m just happy it hopefully won’t involve music, or they could be at the forefront of a new 70s Disco craze revival.

The hate part comes from the fact that I’ve noted the adverse effects of what parenthood has done to my sister. It isn’t that uncommon to observe her with totally blood shot eyes, and a vacant stare off into the distance. You generally only observe this appearance in methamphetamine addicts that are living on an hour of sleep each night, and having just pawned off their father’s coin collection in order to finance their alternative lifestyle practices.

You’re probably wondering to yourself, why’d the guy get into his current predicament in the first place if he doesn’t like surrounding himself with little people? Good question actually, and I caulk it up to the fact that I love my sister, among other things. One listen to our conversation at the start of the day made that fairly obvious.

Christina does a very credible hummingbird imitation. “Thanks for doing this Hamish. Work keeps me from taking the time off to chaperone the kids, so I’m happy you volunteered.”

“It’s only for a day.” (Thank God – Luckily, I don’t have this nasty habit of blurting out exactly what’s on my mind). “Besides, I owe you for getting me out of that blind date last week (Christina told the woman who’d just been released from the psycho ward, I needed to babysit for her that night).

“Worked out beautifully, didn’t it?”

“Yes, yes it did. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

I spoke too soon, as not more than two miles into the trip the bus broke into warring factions when it was discovered that some students would get out of afternoon P.E. by volunteering to participate in a bike safety check. Pretty soon, everybody wanted to have their human powered two-wheel conveyance vehicle inspected as a sweet reward for avoiding the weeklong wrath of retired Marine Corp. Drill Sergeant Beauregard Wiggum.

Once we calmed the devil spawn down, our ignominious arrival at the front entrance of the museum had the kids walking directly towards a hot dog cart. Since it was only 10:30 a.m. and the children wouldn’t be gagging on their carrot sticks and broccoli for another two hours, this created a bit of a conundrum. Their teacher solved this by telling the purveyor of packed sausage products to come back at 2:30 as we’d stop off for ice cream on the way out. Little rewards being what makes life worth living.

Immediately, we barreled into the museum and the moment of truth had arrived. In order to better enhance our chances of confronting retired couples making a quick exit, we broke the kids into three groups. I ended up escorting the group that visited the Egyptian Artifacts first. This was good since it gave me a golden opportunity to put the fear of God into some of the children when I explained how the ancient Egyptians extracted the brains of their mummification subjects. Basically, by pulling the gray matter out through the nose. Most of the boys hung on my every word since they really enjoyed this gory detail description.

Now that I’d achieved godlike status with the group, I backed myself into the proverbial corner, being forced to make my explanations more and more outlandish. My favorite, a rather unique verbal exchange.

“Mr. McCabe,” asked Abdel Boutros, a particularly inquisitive charge. “Is it true that the animals of Australia are very special?”

“Yes they are. Many of the creatures that live in that part of the world moved there from other places. They’re able to balance on their head for extended periods of time since Australia is upside down. Additionally, the airlines have established discount airfares for creatures wanting to relocate to that unique part of the world.”

We finally converged with the other groups at the end of our tour and my nephew, Eddie, walked up to me and put this whole “chaperone” thing into the perfect perspective.

“Uncle Hamish?”

“Yes Eddie?”

“Thanks for coming along with us. I had lots of fun, and it’s pretty neat learning all this new stuff.”

“Happy to help your class out.”

“You big people are smart. You know lots of things.”

“Well sort of.”