THE ANDERCHRONICLES
By Me, Ellee
[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact
*Fiction NOT Fact
[SECOND WARNING AND/OR DISCLAIMER: All characters, although possibly possessing similar characteristics to living and/or dead people, are purely the figment of the author’s hallucinations, and should never, NO—not even for one minute, be considered real in any way, shape or form. All events are fake, as are the locales, although bearing striking similarities to places you may have seen on the Travel Channel]
[THIRD WARNING: Please re-read the SECOND WARNING and commit it to memory]
"Planting My Little Christmas Secret"
Part II
The Springtime Interlude with Andy was over, however, our lips were still just .5 millimeter apart, our hearts were still pounding in unison, our breathing still labored, and searing heat was still radiating from our lips. As our heads spontaneously tipped in opposite directions to complete this . . . longing of lips, on their final approach to touch down, something happened—something astounding. The amount of electricity serging through our electrical systems at that exact moment was enough to generate internal combustion in our engines, igniting a passion that would be hard, if not downright impossible to extinguish, BUT that was not all it ignited. At the exact moment our electrical systems overloaded, the SUV spark plugs sparked, sending an arc to ignite the gas mist, and like a jet plane at full throttle just before take off, the SUV engine roared to life, startling us both apart.
“Ohhhh, mannnnn! Wh-wh . . . what just happened?” Andy exclaimed, astonishment resonating in his voice.
“I don’t know!” I gasped, shaking my head as if that would bring understanding. “This . . . this isn’t possible. I mean . . . it defies the laws of mechanical science!”
I couldn’t wrap words around what had just occurred because, well . . . frankly, I didn’t KNOW. But apparently, our passion had ignited the spark plugs. However, that doesn’t make sense, does it? That’s never happened before! I mean . . . really now, that’s impossible, and yet it happened.
At that moment, Glo climbed out of the SUV and came around to the front clapping and cheering, and announced,
“Hey, you got it going!” She raised her hand in a ‘high five,’ first to Andy, and then even to me. “GOOD JOB! Congratulations! The two of you did great work! Now let’s go! That tree is going into shock!”
“Hey, you got it going!” She raised her hand in a ‘high five,’ first to Andy, and then even to me. “GOOD JOB! Congratulations! The two of you did great work! Now let’s go! That tree is going into shock!”
When she left, Andy and I looked at each other; I think we were already in shock. And then, as a wide smile stretched his lips, he said,
“Yeah, we DID do a great job, didn’t we?” The glow in his eyes was unmistakable.
And that smile of his, well . . . at that moment it was almost causing another run through the springtime field, but it was definitely time to go—we didn’t want that . . . uhh . . . tree to go into shock. Andy then mentioned he would take us to the next rest stop so we could ‘clean up’ after all the greasy work we had done.
As we got back into the SUV, Molly, who had been waiting patiently through all the diagnostics and repair work, and even made it through the Springtime Interlude, was so excited to see me, that she jumped into the back seat, landing in my lap and knocking me onto Glo's lap— the lap that was wearing the light cream-colored ultra-swede coat, the very expensive one, with soft, silky white fur at the neckline—smearing the black evidence of my repair work all over that lovely creation. I can’t possibly calculate the volume of air at intake, as Glo gasped in horror, witnessing the canvas of her coat being painted with engine grease.
“Ohhhh . . . ohhhhhh . . . ohhhhhh!!!” she gulped, trying to inhale and gasp at the same time.
Andy, turning around, responding with inhale/gasps of his own, exclaimed, after seeing it wasn’t actually my fault—for once,
And that smile of his, well . . . at that moment it was almost causing another run through the springtime field, but it was definitely time to go—we didn’t want that . . . uhh . . . tree to go into shock. Andy then mentioned he would take us to the next rest stop so we could ‘clean up’ after all the greasy work we had done.
As we got back into the SUV, Molly, who had been waiting patiently through all the diagnostics and repair work, and even made it through the Springtime Interlude, was so excited to see me, that she jumped into the back seat, landing in my lap and knocking me onto Glo's lap— the lap that was wearing the light cream-colored ultra-swede coat, the very expensive one, with soft, silky white fur at the neckline—smearing the black evidence of my repair work all over that lovely creation. I can’t possibly calculate the volume of air at intake, as Glo gasped in horror, witnessing the canvas of her coat being painted with engine grease.
“Ohhhh . . . ohhhhhh . . . ohhhhhh!!!” she gulped, trying to inhale and gasp at the same time.
Andy, turning around, responding with inhale/gasps of his own, exclaimed, after seeing it wasn’t actually my fault—for once,
“Molly! No! Down, Girl!”
But by this time, Molly was so excited she jumped on Glo’s lap and was licking her face and neck, and then started on her ears, thinking it was all in great fun—except, at the same time she was also smearing the black grease into even more intricate patterns on that light-colored coat, adorning it with several very nice prints of her own paws. Then she started barking approval of this most creative game, and leaped to the front seat where she continued her stamping fun, leaving her ‘paw’ signature on the camel-colored seat cushion.
When Andy tried to stop her, she escaped his grasp and jumped back to me, and then on to Glo, who, thanks to some quick gymnastics on her part, managed to strap Molly down with both arms, stopping her in mid-flight on the way again to the front seat, and hold her tightly until she had calmed down a bit. Then, as Glo began gently stroking Molly's fur, and singing a soft lullaby in her ear, Molly relaxed, and curled up on Glo’s lap, looking up at me with big, brown fluid eyes for approval.
Finally, order was restored, the SUV was running and we were able to resume our trip once more.
“Oh, I do hope Sissy is there when we arrive,” Glo commented as we merged onto the expressway once again.
“She’s there. I talked to her early this morning,” Andy replied, looking in the rear view mirror to check traffic.
Who is Sissy? I wanted to ask, but not wanting to pry, I didn’t. I would find out soon enough.
“Oh, I do hope Sissy is there when we arrive,” Glo commented as we merged onto the expressway once again.
“She’s there. I talked to her early this morning,” Andy replied, looking in the rear view mirror to check traffic.
Who is Sissy? I wanted to ask, but not wanting to pry, I didn’t. I would find out soon enough.
When we finally reached the convenience store gas station, Andy and I went inside leaving his mom and Molly in the SUV. After washing up, I was wanting a snack so I walked up and down the aisles, looking for the perfect snack—something containing no sugar, or salt, or trans fats, or cholesterol, and definitely no calories—you know, something yummy.
While searching the displays, I had the feeling someone was watching me. Like the feeling you get when you’re alone in a haunted house at night, walking through the dark halls, occasionally hitting a creaking floorboard, hearing an owl outside going, “Whooo, whooo,” and an organ somewhere playing The Haunted Organ Suite— you've had that feeling, haven't you? You can just feel a pair of eyes watching you.
Dare I look around to find those eyes? I wondered, or just keep looking for that perfect snack? But, as I approached the chips display racks, there, perfectly framed between bags of Doritos and Cheetos, on the other side of the aisle, I found those eyes! They were Andy’s. He was studying me, and as our eyes met I noticed there was a look on his face I hadn’t seen before. At that moment a lady swiftly snatched a bag of Cheetos away from Andy’s face and the look vanished.
“Well,” he finally said, breaking our gaze as he turned to face the door, “we better be going.”
“Well,” he finally said, breaking our gaze as he turned to face the door, “we better be going.”
And so we did. Once we were back on the Long Island Expressway, it didn’t take long before we had reached Riverhead and turned onto the Jericho Turnpike.
A while later we reached the town of Quogue, which I found out, is a Native Indian name that was actually shortened from Quaguanantuck. The town looks to be both modern and vintage at the same time, having great appeal. Andy’s house is an older clapboard house, not too large, needing a lot of work, but still in the tradition of the surrounding homes, still very appealing. Andy said he hadn’t had the chance to do much with it, yet.
As we drove in the driveway Andy was making a phone call. After a few seconds he said,
“Hey, Sissy, we’re here . . . oh, me too.” I could see in his rear-view mirror he was smiling, and his eyes were sparkling. “Yes . . . no . . . okay . . . perrrrrrrfect!” And then, turning to his mom announced, “Sissy will be right over.”Glo was obviously delighted.
When Sissy came right over, it only took her ten seconds—she was running. She was tall and blond and beautiful. And when Andy saw her, he jumped out of the car and ran to meet her, picking her up and swinging her around and around—just like he had picked me up in our Springtime Interlude. He CAN’T DO THAT!, I screamed silently. WHY is he doing THAT??? I watched as their joy at seeing each other was unmistakable. Something inside me wilted. I tightly folded my arms across my chest, and exhaled indignantly.
“Is something wrong?” Glo asked when she noticed my reaction.
Snorting once again, eyes fixed straight ahead, arms still folded, I spit out,
A while later we reached the town of Quogue, which I found out, is a Native Indian name that was actually shortened from Quaguanantuck. The town looks to be both modern and vintage at the same time, having great appeal. Andy’s house is an older clapboard house, not too large, needing a lot of work, but still in the tradition of the surrounding homes, still very appealing. Andy said he hadn’t had the chance to do much with it, yet.
As we drove in the driveway Andy was making a phone call. After a few seconds he said,
“Hey, Sissy, we’re here . . . oh, me too.” I could see in his rear-view mirror he was smiling, and his eyes were sparkling. “Yes . . . no . . . okay . . . perrrrrrrfect!” And then, turning to his mom announced, “Sissy will be right over.”Glo was obviously delighted.
When Sissy came right over, it only took her ten seconds—she was running. She was tall and blond and beautiful. And when Andy saw her, he jumped out of the car and ran to meet her, picking her up and swinging her around and around—just like he had picked me up in our Springtime Interlude. He CAN’T DO THAT!, I screamed silently. WHY is he doing THAT??? I watched as their joy at seeing each other was unmistakable. Something inside me wilted. I tightly folded my arms across my chest, and exhaled indignantly.
“Is something wrong?” Glo asked when she noticed my reaction.
Snorting once again, eyes fixed straight ahead, arms still folded, I spit out,
“NO, nothing is wrong!”
I could feel her eyes still on me, ferreting out the details of my response to the situation. I then turned my eyes on her and blurted, “I said NOTHING is wrong!”
There was a pause . . . “You . . . seem upset,” she said gently—kindly—knowingly, her hand now on my arm. “Sissy lives next door. She watches out for Anderson’s property here. She does the yard work and makes sure everything is alright when Anderson isn’t here. They are good friends, that’s all.”
I closed my eyes, exhaling as I did . . . Glo knew. Somewhere deep inside, something was forming, growing—an ache; I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. Then, at that moment, I realized—I knew, too.
There was a pause . . . “You . . . seem upset,” she said gently—kindly—knowingly, her hand now on my arm. “Sissy lives next door. She watches out for Anderson’s property here. She does the yard work and makes sure everything is alright when Anderson isn’t here. They are good friends, that’s all.”
I closed my eyes, exhaling as I did . . . Glo knew. Somewhere deep inside, something was forming, growing—an ache; I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. Then, at that moment, I realized—I knew, too.
I had to escape . . . and be alone; be anywhere but there, so flinging the door open I jumped out and started running and running and running, until at last I stopped. As I looked around at what appeared to be Andy’s ‘forest’ of Christmas trees from past years, I sank to the woodland floor that was covered with a thick mat of pine needles, the cold descending around me, and just gave way to the ache that by then had overtaken me, and I cried and cried and cried . . . as the black Silver Tails in the bare branches overhead seemed to be crying with me when they squawked their forlorn “Caaaaaaaark, caaark, caaark . . . Caaaaaaaark, caaark,caaark.”
Bye for now
Love,
Bye for now
Love,
Ellee
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