I Heard That

Earthy, With a Hint of Boysenberry

How last night’s dinner ricocheted across the land

— Written with heart, humor and a stubborn refusal to stay silent —

I hear she smelled something. Must’ve been her imagination. I know it stinks. Photo by OSPAN ALI on Unsplash

“I heard that,” Tricia said as a lovely reminder of last night’s dinner drifted across the bedroom.

“Heard what?” I asked — because I always do.

“Hell, they heard it in Alaska.”

“We’re not in Alaska.”

And thus began another late night of fun and excitement. I guess it’s my fault. I know that would make it unanimous if we took a vote. I over-ate. Big time. I’m still paying for it. Bigger time.

Oh, and did I mention I had a cocktail?

“More than one.”

“I bet they heard THAT in Alaska, too.”

Out comes the shovel. Open goes the hole I’m digging myself. You’d think by now I’d just leave it and jump in when needed. Or better yet, just stay there.

A strange noise escapes my side of the bed. Earthy. With a hint of boysenberry.

“Good God, Ron. Not again!”

“What?”

Inside, I was giggling, as any 12-year-old, strapping American boy would do. I was even contemplating pulling the covers up over her head — I learned that one from my dad. The fact that I’m neither 12 nor strapping is just an inconvenient detail. Outside, of course, I was all innocent.

Then, to up the ante, I started sneezing and coughing. Did I mention I also smoked my pipe after dinner?

“What did the doctor tell you?” Tricia asked.

“Come over for cigars this weekend?”

“NO! Not to smoke.”

Hi Alaska.

You know, sometimes when you’re overstuffed high and low, things happen. In fast succession. HACK! BOOM! HACK! RATTATATAT! Sounded like a Civil War battle. And then, when you least expect it, that double-whammy. Both sides blow at once. KABLOOEY!

Not exactly an ooh baby ooh moment.

Suddenly, the phone rang. “Hello?”

“This is Juneau calling. Put a cork in it.”

OK, OK. I tried the cork. It even worked for a while — until the explosive pressure got too great. BOOM! It flew across the room with a roar, cracking the mirror and ricocheting into a pile of dirty clothes.

Ring ring. “Hello?”

“Honolulu here…”

All I have to say is thank goodness Tricia loves me and is a good sport. I’m already planning tonight’s “concert.” Should be a dandy. Tickets are still available. Tricia just doesn’t have the nose for it. Operators standing by. And ask about our group discount.

“I heard that.”

This Just In…

Seismographs as far north as Point Barrow reported a 4.2 tremor last night. There was little damage, though reports say an undetermined scent had settled over low-lying areas. From Sheriff Sam Studeman: “It was the oddest thing. It had a hint of boysenberry.”

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Editor’s note: What’s that lingering smell? Not that one. The other one? It’s the lies we’ve been told all our childhoods. Read more about it in Sherene Jensen’s story over at our BFF pub, “Another Fucking Publication”:

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