Dancing in the Moonlight

Nice quiet day in Cat’s Paw lane, right? That’s a good one! Fifty-three-year-old Nicholas Grey walked out to his truck with his tools. He always worked this early at eight in the morning in the Brit-Whales power plant. Kind of funny, considering that the country side used electricity for close to twenty years and they still didn’t know how to manage it. Nicholas felt out of place in this power planet. Most of the workers were in their twenties. Hell, even the youngest guy had just turned nineteen. The boss was even twenty-one. Still, a job was a job. He needed something pass the time of his old age. Retirement was coming up in three years. Might as well get it all over with until then. Nicolas took one more look around his truck.

“There,” he said to himself. “That should do it.” Nicolas was about to get into his truck when he heard someone yell like a squawking raven, “NICKY!!!” The man froze up in place. Damn it, I was hoping to get away from her this morning! Nicolas turned to his next-door neighbor, Clyde, grinning and waving at him from her back door stairs. The man shudder all over at the mess of the old biddy. Every fucking morning! What was she even during up this early? She mostly woke up at ten or noon tops.

“NICKY!!!” Clyde yelled again. The man started to grind in his teeth as he whipped around to look up.

“Why must you be shouting out to the streets this early in the morning?” he snapped. Clyde’s loud laugher drew some people to be peeking out their windows to investigate. The tangles in her red dirt converted hair bounced along with her.

“I only want to proclaim me love for me Romeo,” she boomed. Then, she looked and noticed his tan rugby jacket. A sneer came over her face.

“Despite that ugly jacket…” she said. Nicholas raised an eyebrow at her.

“What are ya doing up so early, anyway?” he questioned. Clyde grinned as she flowed down the stairs to the ground level. She now stood only inches away from her object of affection.

“I can to see ya off, me James Dean!” she shouted to the sky. Nicholas began backing away to the safety of his truck.

“Is that… all?” he asked. Clyde smiled and shook her head.

“Actually,” she said. “I’s meetin’ me mates this morning.”

“I see…” Nicholas said. Clyde smiled and waved at him.

“Bye!” she cheered. Then, the old biddy took off laughing. Nicholas blinked at her in disgust. Suddenly, he needed to take a bath. By now, their neighbors were looking out of their houses to investigate. Nicholas looked around at all of them.

“Can I help you?!?” he snapped.

“Trouble with Clyde again?” a round-faced woman shouted with a cooking pot in her hands. Nick turned to her, sneering.

“Every fucking day!” he yelped.

“I don’t know what is wrong with that woman,” a middle-aged housewife said with her tot son in her arms.

“Such a rude old lady,” another housewife said as she was hanging up her laundry on the line. “No wonder her husband ran off with that hooker years ago!”

“I heard that on Wednesdays, she exposes herself to the people that walk by her window every night,” a third housewife said as she was beating her rug. Nicholas only shook his him and got into his truck to go to work.

Clyde made it all the way to the nicer part of Brit-Wales. She waited at the curb of Lennon street as instructed. Don’t see why Polly won’t let me go to her home! Clyde thought as she shuffled her feet around as she stood still. She needed a cigarette. The old biddy reached into the pocket of her worn out brown suede jacket. To her dismay, there were no cigarettes. Clyde sighed and looked up at the sky. Oh well, maybe Polly will give me a fag. And speak of the devil, there she was. Pauline Lovetree walked over to her with her new 414.48 pound black and red kitten heels. Surprise was painted over her make-up buried old face.

“You’re actually on time for once!” she gasped. Clyde grinned at her. Pauline tried not to look at her “friend’s” yellow and black teeth.

“Ugh, and you still look like you spent the night in a trash can!” she complained. Clyde stretched her arms above her head.

“Ya got any fag on ya?” the bag lady asked. Pauline gritted her teeth. She was tempted to scream, “no,” at her. Clyde stared at her like a hungry little cat with a fish. Pauline finally sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she hissed. “Hang on!” Clyde grinned as her friend dug through her red leather purse for some cigarettes. Pauline pulled out a fresh pack of Kents. She opened it up and handed one to the old biddy. Clyde snatched it up and stuffed in her mouth. Pauline’s eyes trailed up to the sky.

“You’re welcome…” she mumbled to herself sarcastically. Clyde felt around in her pockets for some matches. She came up empty. Pauline blew up her black-grey bangs in the air before they landed on her face.

“I suppose you want a light too?” she asked. Clyde’s eyes shot up like helium balloons.

“Would ya really?” she asked. Her friend really wanted to scream now. Why did Clyde have to hit her up for cigarettes and lights? Why did she pester Muriel or Lewis for those things? They always had their own. It didn’t make sense.

Pauline finally fished out a lighter. She flicked it on and lit up Clyde’s cigarette. The old biddy took in a puff and smiled.

“Cheers Polly!” she shouted in her friend’s ear. Pauline rubbed on her ear as she winced.

“Let’s just go,” she grumbled. The women started to walk off.

“Don’t follow too close to me, Wolfe,” Pauline said without turning around. “I would stab myself in the throat than have my neighbors see me with you.” Clyde just shrugged at her.

“Fine, fine,” she said. They continued on with their walk into town.

Lewis Martin and Muriel Fairbanks sat outside of the beauty salon, smoking. Muriel turned to her friend.

“Hey Lewis,” she spoke up. Her friend didn’t look up. The working class woman knew what was coming next out of her friend’s mouth. More philosophy jumble that would pass her head in the next hours to come. Muriel kept on with the cigarette in her mouth.

“Do you think our souls go back to the earth?” she asked. Lewis blinked at her friend as she was high off of opium.

“What?” she asked. Muriel gave her a little shrug.

“Well, we came from the dust in the Bible, right?” she asked.

“I don’t know! I guess,” Lewis said.

“So how do we go back to the earth if we’re all boxed up in caskets in graveyards?” her friend asked. Muriel might as well have asked the question in Pig Latin. She noticed that right away.

“Did you get lost on points?” the old biddy asked. Lewis made another face at her friend. She didn’t feel like dealing with this so early in the morning. Oh well, time to fix this.

“How is Evan?” the working class woman asked out of blue. Muriel’s face went flat. You just had to go there? She wanted to ask.

“He’s still breathing,” she said instead. “In fact, he owes me another check this month.”

“Late with the payment again, then?” Lewis asked. Muriel puffed on her cigarette again. Her friend nodded at her.

“Oh,” she said. “How times have it been, then?”

“Eight,” Muriel hissed.

“Eight times?” Lewis asked. Her friend finished up her cigarette and crushed it on the asphalt behind.

“If this keeps up, we’re going back to court for this,” Muriel declared. “Again.”

“Someone goin’ ta court?” a voice crackled. Lewis and Muriel looked up to see Clyde and Pauline walking over to them. The working class woman gave them a little smirk.

“You’re late!” she said in a joking tone.

“We would’ve been here earlier, but this grease monkey over here had to harass some gentlemen along the way,” Pauline said with gritted teeth as she directed the latter part of that sentence directly to Clyde. The bag lady gave her a monkey-like shrug.

“’Ey!” she said. “Hey was prutty cute!” Pauline sneered at the poor use of grammar as she whacked Clyde on the head with her purse.

“Ow!!!” she cried.

“Learn how to speak properly!” the rich lady yelled.

“I will when ya ain’t such a stick up my arse!” Clyde shot back.

“Watch your mouth!” Pauline cried.

“MAKE ME!!!” the bag lady shouted.

“Okay!” Lewis cut in before it all got ugly. “Let’s just go inside, shall we?” Muriel and Lewis walked into the beauty parlor. Pauline snorted.

“They’ll be surprised to see this grease monkey in here,” she mumbled. Clyde caught that like radar.

“Wut’s ‘hat supposed ta mean?!?” she snapped.

“You heard me!” Pauline declared as they all walked inside. “You grease monkey!”

“Cow!” Clyde mumbled to her. That merited another whack in the back of the head with Pauline’s purse.

The beauty salon had just opened up for the day. Gordon had finished up cleaning his kit when the door swung open. He looked up in surprise at the quitrent. The old man had to blink twice.

“Girls?” he asked. “Speak of the devil, it’s been so long!” Lewis gave him a little wave.

“You look well Gordon,” she said. Then both shared a brief hug. He slowly let go of his dear friend.

“So, what would you like today, Lou?” Gordon asked.

“Just a trim,” Lewis replied.

“Coming up,” he said. The old biddy sat down in the chair near the small, boxed-in bathroom as Gordon got out his scissors. The other three women sat around the salon. The rounded man looked over at them.

“Would you ladies like anything today?” he asked. The friends all shook their heads.

“Nah!” Clyde almost shouted in Pauline’s ear. The rich old biddy sneered at her.

“Ha, like they could even buy you to come in to get your hair done,” she declared. “You couldn’t even clean yourself up if your life depended on it.” Clyde looked over at her with narrowed eyes.

“And wat’s ‘hat ‘posed ta mean?!?” she yelled. Pauline tried to keep herself from laughing out loud. That lasted... for five seconds. Outside of the salon could hear her laughing. Muriel and Lewis looked as if they were pretending not to know who she was. Clyde’s face shaded over a tomato red.

“Cow!” she shouted. Pauline couldn’t hear her over her own laughter. The working poor old biddy only sat there and pouted.

Once the giggles died down, Gordon get to work with Lewis’ hair. The working class old biddy turned her eyes to her stylist.

“What’s new Gordon?” she asked. The stylist sighed at her.

“I’m being invaded by these rude boys,” he complained. “One of them nearly ran me over with their damn motorbike! Two weeks before that, they vandalized a buddy of mine’s garden shed. Many things in my neighborhood have been going missing. We have tried to phone the bobby, but what good are that lot? Those rude boys pretty much taking over this damn country.” Lewis looked at him with sympathy.

“Like Vikings, they are?” she asked. “I feel your pain. Two of those little shites were setting off fireworks in my pumpkins fields. Chased ‘em off with a garden hoe.” Pauline sighed as she took another puff of her cigarette.

“The youth today…” she sighed. “We had been discipline back in our day. Brit-Wales has really let itself go since the 60’s.” Muriel frowned as she lit up another cigarette.

“Vikings,” she mumbled. “Such buggers, they were. They invaded our virgin homelands, pillaged everything that we owned and worked for, raped our foremothers…” Gordon paused with the scissors in his hand and glanced up at her.

“Don’t you mean forefathers?” he corrected her. Muriel paused and thought about her error for a moment.

“It would have to be foremothers,” she said. Clyde felt around in her pockets of her worn suede jacket. Her face slightly shaded in worry.

“Uh-oh,” she said. Pauline glanced over at her.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Me key,” the bag biddy said. “I lost me key!” Lewis glanced over at her mate.

“Not surprising,” she said. “You’re always loosing things that jacket. That things has more holes than a fishing net!”

“I is serious!” Clyde cried. “Me key is gone!”

“Where did you lose it?” Muriel asked. Clyde shrugged.

“Can’t remember,” she said. Pauline rolled her eyes.

“Oh great,” she mumbled. “One more pointless errand to do now!” Clyde looked at her like a sweet little dog.

“Sorry,” she said, child-like. Gordon finished up trimming Lewis’ reddish-brown curly locks. She looked at her new do in the mirror. Once again, Gordon’s work met with her inspection.

The lovely, young Mrs. Brown was working at the library desk when she felt two strong, older hands embrace her passionately by the waist. She paused and giggled aloud.

“Ooo, Mr. Brice!” she excited. The older “gentleman” leaned in close to her curly, dark brown hair and breathed in deeply.

“You’re washing that shampoo I like,” he whispered. Mrs. Brown began to blush.

“I washed my hair last night.” Mr. Brice stepped out next to her.

“All of Shakespeare’s muses can’t compare to you!” he declared. The older man gave her a kiss on the neck. Mrs. Brown felt like exploding into many tiny flowers of euphoria.

“Mr. Brice!” she said. Then, the doors blew open. The couple looked up to see Clyde, Muriel, Pauline, and Lewis staring at them. Mr. Brice and Mrs. Brown pretended that nothing happened. Mr. Brice glared and sneered at them.

“What?!?” he barked. The old biddies said nothing as they raced to the back room. Mrs. Brown looked down at her hands in shame as Mr. Brice swore under his breath.

“Each time,” he mumbled under his breath. He just had to find some way to get rid of them so that he could finally get some progression with his and Mrs. Brown’s affair. Ha! Good luck with that one!

“Why does he think he can fool us?” Lewis asked aloud in the back reading section of the library. “We know he’s trying to have an affair with Mrs. Brown. We’re not stupid.”

“Doesn’t stop him from trying, now does it?” Pauline asked at the table. Lewis nodded in the back corner.

“This is true,” she replied.

“I keep telling you,” Muriel cut in. “Mr. Brice will end up in the funny farm if he’s not careful. He’s so close to going mental, isn’t he?”

“Who cares?!?” Clyde asked as she walked around in circles while looking down at the floor. Pauline rolled her eyes as she watched her.

“I know I’m going to hate the answer,” she said. “But what exactly are you doing?”

“Tryin’ ta find me keys!” Clyde said, still looking around. Pauline breathed on her bangs.

“Sit down!” she snapped. “You look mental when you do that!”

“But I can’t find me key!” Clyde yelled. She walked further past the old biddies, still looking around on the floor. The other three watched her. The old biddy walked out of the reading room. The women looked at her like she was crazy. Pauline raised an eyebrow at her.

“She is just out of her mind,” she said. Lewis looked in the many books of reference on the tall, oak green shelf before her.

“How do ya mean?” she asked.

“Look at her,” Pauline pointed out. Muriel and Lewis tilled their heads for a better look. Clyde was still looking and walking around for her missing keys. She seemed to be having an argument with herself if one listened closely. Her friends all turned back to each other. An idea floated into Muriel’s mind.

“You think… she’s not human?” she asked. The other two old buddies looked at her.

“What? Like an alien or something?” Lewis questioned. Muriel shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Like a witch!” The other two looked at the old lady as if she had just escaped from the mental hospital. Lewis blinked at her.

“How?” she asked. Muriel smirked at her pal.

“Simple, a witch doesn’t feel pain,” she said. “So if we turn her upside and…” The other two followed along with her idea.

“Oh! I see!” Pauline said with a grin.

“Precisely!” Muriel exclaimed. The talking stopped when they heard the creaking of Clyde’s boots coming back into the room. The bag lady looked at all of them with a confused look on her face.

“Wha?” she asked. “Whatz everyone talkin’ ‘bout, then?” she asked. Her friends grinned at her.

“Guys…” Clyde said. “Whatz goin’ on?” Muriel stood up from the table.

“Get her!” she yelled. She and the other two rushed towards their friend and ambushed her. Clyde revealed the whites of her eyes.

“GUYS!!!” she cried.

In two hours, the old biddies sat in Sunny Plum café. Clyde still looked bitter about the prank they had pulled earlier.

“’Hat wan’t funny!” she barked.

“I’ll see,” Muriel complained. “You’re wellies came out in our hands!”

“I don’t think I’ll ever eat again,” Pauline gripped over her tea.

“But ‘hat ‘bout me?!?” Clyde yelled. “’Hat was ya thinkin’? Turnin’ me upside down like that?” The other three tried to hold back their giggles with no avail. Muriel glanced over at her with the sugar biscuit just inches from her mouth.

“We’re trying to see if you were a witch,” she said.

“Huh?” Clyde asked, blinking.

“You see,” her friend went on. “Witches don’t feel pain.”

“Well, it hurt when I fell on me head!” the bag lady snapped.

“Yeah, we noticed,” Lewis replied. “Nasty feet and smell of boots accounted for.”

“Watch ya mouth!” Clyde hissed.

“Here, have a fag,” Pauline replied calmly with a fresh cigarette in her hand.

“Why?” the dirty old biddy asked.

“Anything to shut you up,” she said. Her “friend” only glared at her. Pauline kept offering her the cigarette. Clyde finally sighed with a huff.

“Fine,” she grumbled. The old lady took the cig and Pauline lit it for her. The other three watched in silence.

“Better?” Pauline asked. Clyde took in a puff and blew out.

“Yep!” she said. All was at rest now. But then, a loud crash permeated the air. The foursome looked up in a shock. The café’s owners, Tucker and Annie Anderson, came out screaming at each other per usual.

“WHY DO YOU ACT SO STUPID?!?” Annie yelled at her husband.

“I ACT STUPID?!?” Tucker shot back.

“YES, YOU ARE STUPID!!!”

“If I’m so stupid, then why did you marry me?!?”

“OH, TUCKER!!! YOU MAKE ME SO ANGRY?!?” The foursome bit their lips, nervously.

“I think we should run,” Lewis suggested.

“Yeah,” the other women said, nodding. They jumped up from the table and shot out the door. Annie happened to look and notice them running away.

“’Eh!” she snapped. “Come back and pay the tab!!!” The foursome understandably did the complete opposite.

Outside in the streets, Clyde realized something.

“Guys!” she said. “Now I remember where I left me keys.” The trio looked up at her.

“Where?” Muriel asked. Clyde grinned at her. She reached inside her jacket and pulled the lost keys out. She held them high in the air.

“’Hey was in me jacket the whole time!” the bag lady cheered. The other three looked at her with flat looks on their faces.

“Remind me why we are friends with her again,” Pauline said in a matching tone.

“We just are,” Lewis replied.

“Yeah, but why?” Pauline asked.

“We just are,” Lewis repeated. “We just are.” Then, they all headed further into the streets for more mischief.

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