Fitting the Pieces With the Parts

Toto—“Falling In Between”

MoTW—“All Souls Day”

“Oh my goodness! What is this all over the walls? Is it………IT IS!
YOU SMEARED FECES ALL OVER YOUR WALLS!”

With that I woke up and hopped out of bed. And, sure enough, there were
brown smears on every wall and a pretty intense odor of bodily waste.

“What have you done! What ever compelled you to wipe your feces all over
the wall. Bill/ BILL?”

My father ran up the stairs and entered my room.

“Oh lordy, lordy, LORDY! Is that shit on your walls/ IS THAT SHIT ON
YOUR WALLS?”

I decided that denial was out of the question and that this was the best
time to tell the complete truth.

“I would say it IS shit, dad. Yet it is not my shit. It is shit from a
monkey,” I said with an imperious tone of voice.

That didn’t sit too well with my day, made obvious by the backhand slap
he delivered to my face.

“A monkey? A MONKEY? What kind of crap is that?”

I pointed towards the closet. “Look in there if you don’t believe me,” I
said as I rubbed my face with my non-pointing hand.

“No,” said dad. “No. We’re not that stupid to believe that there’s a
monkey living in your closet. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard
and the dumbest lie you have ever come up with.”

“What are we going to do,” mother whined.

“First off, he’s going to clean the shit off the walls. Then he’s going
to have some breakfast since it’s…..”

“….the most important meal of the day,” mother finished for him.

“Quite, quite,” he continued as he lit up a More. “Then he’s going to
weed the yard and then we’ll take him to a doctor to see what kind of
drugs he’s obviously on.”

With that they left, mom to get cleaning supplies and dad to finish his
most important meal of the day.

I went to the closet and there was nothing on the floor except for some
shoes, banana peels and a baseball bat. I looked around the room for the
monkey, but it had disappeared.

I gave up looking for the monkey when the cleaning supplies were
delivered. I concentrated on wiping off the shit without disturbing the
paint. Lucky for me the shit hadn’t dried and was fairly easy to wipe
off.

Next up was my most important meal of the day which consisted of the
usual bowl of Special K and then I was outside pulling weeds.

I had mastered the art of “pulling” weeds when I discovered that
chopping up the weeds with a hoe was much easier than bending down to
pick each weeds so I was done in a little less than an hour.

I then found myself in the car heading to the doctor’s office. The whole
drive my parents talked to me about the evils of drugs which I
half-listened too since I wasn’t too deep into drugs at that point
except for the paint sniffing and occasional use of marijuana which, of
course, had been forced upon me by my peers.
When we reached the doctor’s office, I became very scared. What if I had
dreamt about the monkey and the shit was really mine? What if I had a
huge tumor in my head causing my monkey hallucinations?

Suddenly I knew how that kid felt at the end of “The Omen”. Unluckily
for me (for some reason) my parents had also seen that movie and I was
dragged into the waiting room even though I cried and struggled
ferociously. Luckily for me (for some reason) I wasn’t placed on an
altar with my dad poised over me with a dagger, but was forced to sit in
a seat with a copy of Highlight magazine while my mother gave my name to
the receptionist.

COMING NEXT: What shall the doctor find?

Stephen Johnson

The idea of building a website with Bob came from Stephen in the days of message boards and chat rooms. We settled on the name TheWeirdcrap.com and the rest is history. Retired since he hit the ripe age of 25, he spends most his time doing odd-jobs around the house and digging thru trash bins for "stuff that's still good." Stephen has contributed several short stories and hosted the "Lunatic Ravings" column since the beggining. The idea of writing weekly columns (blogs didn't exist yet) also came from Stephen. So I guess that makes him the creator of the "blog" phenomena.

https://theweirdcrap.com

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.