christinamguerrero.com ~ the official site ~
GRIPE BE GONE
Copyright 2018 Christina M. Guerrero
DEDICATION
This is for my children.
STORY BEHIND THE STORY
Nothing, yet
ABOUT THE DRAFTS
Draft One:
The usual typos, inconsistencies, and errors.
When I first got this idea it was much funnier in my imagination;
will have to explore the parameters of the idea and find more humor.
The professions of Sandra and Barney don't match
what was in my imagination; need to be changed.
"Gripe Be Gone" is not precisely what the product does
but it had a bit of a kick and a ring to it; will probably change that, too.
Sandra and Barney placed the plates of snacks on the coffee tables.
Barney said, “A little bit of what everyone likes. Front room is clean and smells good. The kitchen smells good, too. Love your cooking, San.”
She kissed his cheek. “Thanks. Have you seen Scott?”
Barney looked out the south window. “I see him coming. He said he wanted the orchards to look beautiful for our guests.”
“Beautiful? They always look beautiful.”
“He said he left a few baskets in view of the driveway.”
“Aw. He’s so conscientious. He’s such a good caretaker.”
“He is. He’s got his two-week break coming up, so let’s prepare for that.”
Sandra said, “Yeah. We’ll do the work ourselves. I hope he enjoys that camp.”
Barney said, “He’s at the back door. I think he’ll do fine at the camp. He’ll be among others with similar disabilities. Hey, sport!”
Their tall, slim son Scott walked in, dragging his right foot, and tilting from side to side. “Heyyy, Daaad. I put the baaaskets behind the third row. Behind those bushes. Mmm, smells good, Mom. Oh, aaand I put the cart behind the middle shed.”
“Thanks.”
A little silence grew into a long silence.
Barney said somberly, “Well. If this doesn’t work, then it’s all over. They’re toast, and we’ll escape and be free. They won’t be able to catch us.”
Scott’s voice was also somber. “I don’t even waaant to do this, Dad. They make fun of myyy mannerisms and body. I’ve haaad enough. I’m nineteen years old, none nine months. I think the childish teasing should beee over.”
Sandra said, “Just this last chance. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s over.”
“Okayyy, mom. But if it gets baaad, I’m going to myyy room and locking the door.”
“That’s fine with me. But don’t you want to see if the weapons work?”
Scott said, “They’re nooot weapons. Remember? They’re aaatmosphere enhaaancers.”
“Yeah. I gotta remember that.”
“I miiight stick around to see what haaappens. Do you really think theyyy will work? Seems like a scaaam.”
Sandra said, “The company promises our money back if they don’t work. So far, no complaints against them, and only one product has been returned. Let’s just see what happens.”
Barney looked out the east window. “Lenny is here. He’s got his wife and the kids.”
Sandra said, “Here we go.”
Scott said, “I love you, Mom and Dad. I hope they are nice to us.”
Barney said, “Fat chance.”
Sandra opened the door. They watched as Barney’s brother Lenny walked up the path to the front door.
Lenny’s face was cheerful as he chatted with his wife and child, but then turned blank as he noticed Barney.
“Hey, Barn,” Lenny said in a voice devoid of emotion. “Your yard needs work.”
Barney said cheerfully, “The yard is fine.”
Lenny said with clenched teeth, “NO, IT’S NOT. The corner over there near the road has two WEEDS. Why do you have that stupid STRING around them?”
Barney said pleasantly, “That’s a flower patch. We’re growing flowers there.”
Lenny sighed. “Whatever.” He walked inside without greeting Sandra or Scott.
Sandra said, “Hello, Lenny.”
Scott said half-heartedly, “Hi, Uncle Len.”
Lenny ignored them, went to the couches, and sat, shaking his head.
His wife, Ursula, did the same, walking in and not greeting anyone, as did their two children. They sat around the food, staring at it and making faces as if it were rotting.
Scott, Sandra and Barney greeted their guests but received no greeting in return. They looked at each other and Sandra held up two hands, mouthing, “Ten minutes.”
“Knock, knock!” said a voice at the door.
Scott went over. “Hi, Nancy.”
Nancy, Sandra’s half-sister, ignored him and said loudly, “Lenny! Does it smell like feet in here?”
Lenny turned immediately and also spoke loudly. “Yes! It smells like cooked feet. How did you manage that, Sandra?”
Scott stared, frowning. He said, “Mooom, it smells like spaaaghetti sauce iiin here, mixed with garlic bread.”
Lenny stared back, then said, “When is he going to get a job, Sandra? Ever? What does he do all day?”
Scott looked outside at the orchard, where he had been working since five in the morning. “I work here, as aaa caretaker and orchaaardist, Uncle Lenny.”
Lenny said, as if reciting, “Speak up. I can’t hear you, and you don’t make any sense when I can.”
Nancy’s husband Jim entered, looked around, and joined her and the guests on the couches.
Barney went over and said, “Take it back, Lenny.”
Lenny sat back and put his feet on the coffee table nearest his person, almost in the bowl of guacamole.
“Please take your feet off the table, Lenny.”
Lenny shook his head, removed his feet, sighed loudly, and said, “Why is there always a problem with you three. Always, always, always. The minute we arrive. And who serves guacamole with a spaghetti dinner?”
“Lenny, Ursula loves guacamole. We made it for her. Now take back the ugly words you said about Scott. That was not appropriate.”
“What ugly words?”
“You remember.”
Lenny’s mouth opened and remained open.
As he stared, Nancy said, “Hey, Sandra. There’s something we need to talk about. The elephant in the room. When are YOU going to get a job?”
Sandra fingered the stethoscope around her neck; she had worked a couple of hours earlier, filling in for another doctor. She resisted the urge to look at the wall that Nancy was facing: on it was a large framed magazine article featuring Sandra’s award from the magazine as one of the region’s best neurologists.
Lenny said, “Yeah, Sandra. What do you three do all freaking day, all week, all year, the rest of your life? Just sit around? You do nothing. Just whining about your stupid orchard and your stupid meals that you eat all day long. With that stupid wine. Alcoholics.”
Jim and the rest of the guests laughed long and hard. Jim said, “Yeah, Sandra. You’re gonna lose this house, you’re gonna lose the orchard -- and what a waste of money when you bought that -- and you’re gonna lose that brand new car. Who buys a brand new car?”
Scott turned a snicker into a cough. Both sounded like a muffled version of, “Confusing.” He looked outside at several big shiny brand new state of the art vehicles.
Barney glanced at his Grammy awards on the fireplace, then at Sandra, who squinted and held up two fingers.
Nancy said, “Sandra. If you’re looking for a job, just go to Indeed dot com. Do you know how to spell that? That’s I - N - D - E - E - D. Dot com at the end. D - O - T - C - O - M. That’s on the internet. You know how to use the internet?” She giggled, and the rest of the guests did, as well.
Jim muttered, “Barney better go there too. Forget about Scott. The kid is a lost cause. Couldn’t find his own ass if he had a detailed map.”
Scott’s bad hand -- his right one -- clamped quickly onto his right butt cheek.
Barney turned a snicker into a fake sneeze.
Sandra held up one finger.
Lenny said, “What’s this nasty garbage on the table? Looks like snot.” He pushed the guacamole away, towards the bowl of chips, which knocked against the napkins, which fell onto the floor.
Nancy said slowly and distinctly, “Scott. Maybe. You. Could. Come. Over. Here. And. Pick. Up. These. Napkins.”
Sandra nodded.
Scott said just as slowly and distinctly, “Maybe. You. Could. Learn. Some. Manners.”
Sandra reached into the kitchen, grabbed a small bowl of fruit, and took it to the main coffee table, around which everyone was sitting.
Nancy sat up straight, pushed up her sleeves, and said in a strange soft voice, “Sandra. We can’t have that.”
“Can’t have what.”
“Your son talking to me like that.”
“And we can’t have you ordering Scott to clean up Lenny's messes. So stop.”
Nancy stared with her mouth open.
Sandra rearranged the display on the coffee table, and put the bowl of fruit in the middle. She ripped one banana off its group of fellows, appeared to change her mind, then took a chip and munched on it.
Nancy said in a loud wildly exaggerated way, “I did not start a fight with him!”
Sandra stared at the fruit, then at Barney, who said, “Supposed to take about thirty seconds max.”
“Would you start a timer?”
'
“For what,” Jim said, back to a monotone. “To jazz up this boring-ass dinner? I could have more fun taking a nap.”
The kids snickered and pointed at Scott, who was looking at a pad of paper, and writing on it. “What’s he doing?” One kid asked. “Writing down how to talk?”
Lenny said with his teeth clenching again, “None of them know how to talk to people. Hadn’t you noticed?”
Ursula yawned loudly. The kids nodded and continued to snicker and point at Scott, who said, “I think it’s working. Look.”
Sandra looked at their guests. Nancy was frowning, and seemed to have tears in her eyes as she wrung her hands. Jim’s head was bowed. The kids were looking at each other, confused.
Barney said, “Hm. Maybe it’ll work, after all.”
Sandra briefly remembered their history with what appeared to be the fruit bowl.
Three weeks before, she had been checking out the menu on the TV, when she came across an advertisement for “Gripe Be Gone.” She had clicked on it, mid-broadcast.
“--placed the bowl of fruit in the middle of the table, ripped off one banana, and after thirty seconds, the get-together took a more pleasant turn. Everyone was happier, more pleasant, and seemed to remember their manners.’ An announcer’s voice said, ‘And Jean, from Bakersfield, California, has this to say.’ Jean, a young blond woman, said, ‘When it was my turn to host a birthday party, my guests were always so ugly. I added two drops per person to the bowl of fruit, placed the bowl in the middle of the table, and in LESS than thirty seconds, everyone was on the same page. Now, don’t get me wrong. We were still able to discuss the occasional unpleasant topic. But in a cordial, kind way. Thank you, thank you, thank you!’ The announcer had muttered for about a minute regarding the side-effects of Gripe Be Gone, including localized and/or city-wide peace that might spread around the world, then the commercial ended. The commercial started up again, and Sandra watched, frowning, then took the phone number down.
A few days later, she ordered her free trial, with the option to send it back if she was not satisfied. She had used it at work with a particularly cantankerous doctor, who had stopped by her office. The conversation was still a bit stiff, but they had managed to communicate more effectively. Sandra had then paid for three. She used one during a camping trip, which had turned into one of the best times for everyone involved; the second one for a business meeting, which had gone about how she expected, yet everyone there seemed to be rather satisfied rather than slightly irritated; and now the third one was on the coffee table in the living room.
Barney said, “May I get anyone a drink?”
Lenny opened his own mouth, frowned, grimaced, blinked, closed his mouth, and squinted at the framed magazine article of Sandra.
Nancy rocked back and forth briefly, then wiped under her eyes.
Jim said to one of his children, “Buddy. Sorry about that snack the other night. I thought you said you’d be out later than ten.”
“No. I said I’d be back BY ten. I had a test the next morning. And I wanted the muffin and some coffee while I was studying.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I love to bake. I’ll make some more tonight.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Ursula was frowning and studying her phone and the fireplace. She said, “Barney. You won another Grammy this year? Congratulations!”
Barney frowned, tilting his head. “What about looking for a job?”
Ursula lowered her eyes; she blushed. “Why would you. You’re a full-time musician. And we--” She gestured to everyone around the large coffee table. “--We need to stop making those comments. It’s none of our business, really, what you three do for a living. Unless you care to share.”
Lenny stood and said, “I’d like to make a speech.”
Everyone stopped talking.
Lenny said, “Sandra. I think it’s awesome that there’s a doctor in the family. That was a lot of hard work for you. Lots of people in the community speak highly of you. I saw this article recently while I was at a doctor’s appointment. I showed it to the receptionist and said I knew you, but she just smiled. But anyways, I like that article.” He sat.
Sandra said, “Thanks. You know, it’s creepy and weird when you go on about this Indeed dot com thing. You’ve known for years that I’m a doctor.”
Nancy said, stuttering and stammering, “Well ... uh ... it’s just ... well ... we know. We shouldn’t be making those comments. It’s rude and inappropriate. And none of us should be criticizing Scott. We know he owns the orchards with you two as silent partners, and that he’ll do well with them. The place looks great and beautiful.”
Scott said, “Thaaank you.”
The kids patted the couch, gesturing to him. Scott went over and sat, and they all began chatting softly.
Lenny said, “What kind of flowers are you growing?”
Barney said, “Scott knows. He’s the expert.”
Scott said, “Aaa mixture. I hope they’re all still there.”
“They’re there. I shouldn’t have said anything about them. It’s a pretty property.” Lenny took a chip and dipped it into the guacamole and ate. “Mmm. You two are good cooks.”
Ursula said, “I second that. This guacamole is fabulous. And it most definitely smells like the best spaghetti sauce ever, along with that delicious garlic bread scent.”
Barney said, “I’m still taking drink orders. Or just help yourselves. Drinks are over here in the coolers.”
Sandra observed the rest of the dinner part, waiting and watching, but the mood was pleasant and remained pleasant. She excused herself and went to the kitchen, and checked the Gripe Be Gone box: a small box that fit in her hand. Inside was a bottle filled with a pinkish-purple fluid. The instructions were to apply two small droplets per guest onto the bowl of fruit, place the fruit in the center of the gathering, and then re-arrange the fruit in order to circulate the atmosphere enhancer.
She looked through the doorway. Barney smiled at her and held up one thumb. She looked at the warning label and smiled. The label warned: “Use as directed. Just two drops per person will improve moral. Using more than directed may cause excessive laughing, overextension of volunteer activities, insomnia, obsessive compulsive cleanliness and neatness, fidelity, loyalty, joy, love, professional competence, self-awareness, and worldwide peace. Money back guarantee.”
A strange sound made her move toward the living room. She went to a side table and grabbed a handful of tortilla chips, while listening again for the sound.
Then she realized it was Scott.
He was laughing.
He was laughing and chatting, and the other children and teenagers were laughing and chatting, too.
“Priceless,” she said.
THE END THE END THE END
BACK TO JOURNALISM - * - BACK TO ARCHIVES