My Doctor Must Not Have Seen The Hashtag

by Connor Orrico

camomile tea

"Patient presents. STATES DEPRESSION IS STABLE. NO THOUGHTS OF SELF-HARM. DOING PRETTY WELL ON [redacted]. NO SIDE EFFECTS. REALLY NOT THAT MUCH EFFICACY, HOWEVER." That is really in my medical chart, copied here caps lock and all.

It is a pretty hot take on treatment-resistant (creatively, "stable") Major Depressive Disorder, something I feel obliged to write as a proper noun to bolster its credibility. Weirdly we call this stuff mental health, which per Twitter, university listservs, high school classroom motivational posters of breaching whales and healthcare.gov, "matters" -- but mental health is either misnamed or its mistreated because many miss treatment without physical evidence of psychological pain (e.g., self-harm) or a well-formulated plan towards the end point of the physical self (i.e., suicide).

Even after acknowledging that somatic notions of the link between psychiatric illness and physical anatomy is not without some merit, I think persuading my doctor to appreciate the reality of my depression "independent of biology" (Kleinman and Good, 1985:494) would be met with less resistance if I simply throw myself in the road outside of the practice. Unfortunately, if my physical body were to be destroyed, only the Eliphazs, Bildads, and Zophars retweeting "Ask for help #mentalhealthmatters" would get the glory.

So, until our actions align with our words, "mental health matters" is the mass-produced bracelet that becomes a bond. My hands feel tied -- bound until they bleed.

The Visit.

by Trevor Belshaw

porter

He walked across the veranda and stopped just behind her.

‘Jodie?’

The young girl stared into the darkness and said nothing.

‘Jodie, I…’

‘Don’t talk to me.’

‘Come on, Honey, I just…’

The girl whistled tunelessly and studied the darkness.

‘Jodie don’t…’

‘You left us.’

The man bowed his head. ‘I know, Honey. I didn’t want to.’

‘You just left, without even saying goodbye.’

‘I couldn’t, Jodie, there wasn’t time, your Mom…’

‘Mom was hurt real bad. Do you know that?’

‘Yes, Honey, I know that. Do you miss me too, just a little?’

‘No, I got over you, it took a while, but I made it.’

‘I never got over you, Jodie. Never will.’

The girl got up from the step and turned to face him.

‘You haven’t changed much.’

‘No,’ he laughed. ‘I don’t suppose I have.’ He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

She stepped back quickly. ‘Have you seen Ryan?’

‘Not yet, I don’t know if he wants to see me.’

‘Probably not. He calls Jim, Dad, now.’

‘And you? Do you call Jim, Dad?’

She shook her head. ‘He’s not my Dad. I call him Jim.’

‘Is he looking after you Okay? Does he…’

‘What do you care? You left us. He wouldn’t be here but for that.’ She sat on the step again and wiped away and angry tear.

He placed a soft hand on her hair. She snapped her head away, then dropped her chin to her chest and began to sob. ‘You went… without…saying…goodbye.’

He sat on the step and placed his arm around her shoulder. A few seconds later she buried her head in his chest.

‘I would have given anything to stay, Sweetheart. You know that. I would never do anything to hurt you.’

The sobbing slowly subsided. When she spoke again her voice was soft, all the anger gone.

‘Christmas was bad, and Thanksgiving. I didn’t celebrate my birthday, not properly.’

‘I couldn’t send you anything, Jodie. It wasn’t possible.’

‘I know, Dad. I’m older now, I understand.’

A voice called from inside the house. ‘Jodie? Dinner’s ready. Come wash your hands.’

She stood up slowly. He crouched and took her hands in his. ‘You had better go or you’ll be in trouble.’

She threw her arms round his neck and hugged him. ‘Thanks for coming, Dad. Will I see you again?’

‘He sucked on his teeth and tipped his head to the side. ‘Never say never. It’s difficult, but I’ll try to come over now and then. It might be a while ’til next time though.’

She stepped back and gave him a smile. ‘I love you Dad.’

He nodded slowly. ‘I know, Honey, and I love you, never forget that.’

She smiled again. ‘Sorry for behaving like a brat.’ She turned away and crossed the veranda as Jim appeared in the doorway.

‘Jodie, how many more times…’

‘Sorry, Jim. I was just thinking about Dad…it’s three years ago today that he died.’

A Dinner Travail Tale

by  PritiJ

Masala Chai

I do not learn from my mistakes. 

 

Did not want to go, dreaded past experience dictated, but had to nonetheless, social niceties insisted. A classic case of better sense prevails, but nonsense persuades.

 

As I sat down to the repast, washing down the tandoori chicken dipped in a lethal orange dye, tough as jute, and  kebabs stiff and dark as pieces of ebony, chewing which made my ears ache, with a strange smelling juice, rotis best left unmentioned; decorum (be damned) demanded I praise the cook with every mouthful that choked me. Only to be helped with added misery.

 

And as they sit in my poor stomach like demons made of stone; sure to bring me nightmares as I stagger my way home; I concur with P.G Wodehouse that aunts aren't gentlemen, and that some are best left unvisited...

 

Dismiss gastronomic bliss. An after dinner peptic ulcer, anyone???

 

About the author

PritiJ has lived a life across cultures. She is an outspoken representative of her gender; still unsure whether she represents liberation, or equity, and finds humour, and inspiration for her poetry, in odd places.

Cruising Into a New Life

 by Susan E Willis

champagne

I take a big deep breath and look in the long mirror in the bathroom. I’m in a single cabin onboard a cruise ship and shake my head at the image before me. It doesn’t look anything like me. Well, I smile, the old me. The old Geraldine Thompson. This Geraldine Thompson who left the sanatorium three days ago looks completely different now. Inside and out.

I’m not the old Geraldine who was frumpy, overweight, with long greyish hair scrapped back into a sever bun. I’d worn black or brown two-piece suits with thick tights and grey shirts all my adult life. My mother’s dressmaker, Mrs Whittaker, had made them exactly to mother’s instructions. Not mine. I’d never had a choice of clothing with Mrs Whittaker. Nor a choice of footwear. My feet had been forever in brown flat brogues or laced up boots.   

I smile now and smooth down the sides of the white pencil skirt and spin around to look at my back. I chuckle. The navy silk blouse is tight fitting and shows off all my curves in just the right places.

I feel the slight sway of the ship as it comes into dock. I know the routines of cruising as I have been on many before, although always with mother sharing a cabin. This time however, I’ve loved having the cabin all to myself.

Grinning, I peer closer into the mirror at my face. My hair has been cut in a short trendy style and coloured a rich auburn. It is shining with the sun flooding through the balcony window. I’m wearing makeup for the first time in my life.

Mother had never approved of make-up. She’d once snarled at me, ‘You’ll look like a dirty harlot!’

A fellow patient in the sanitorium, Jeanie, had shown me how to apply the rich face cream and foundation. She’d also shown me how to sweep the blusher across my cheeks. I pull down my jaw and grin. With all the weight I’ve lost playing tennis and not eating mother’s favourite stodgy puddings, I actually have cheekbones now. I run the tip of my tongue around my front teeth to make sure the red lipstick hasn’t marked them. I can’t resist a small hoot to myself imaging mother’s face and comments about hussies who wear bright lipstick. 

I place the jaunty blue hat on the back of my head and swish my hair from side to side making sure it is securely fastened. I don’t want it to blow off on my descent down the gangway.  

After sailing for two days, where I’ve mainly stayed in my cabin, we are docking in Rio today and I can feel my insides bubble with excitement.

The water now is gently lapping on the sides of the ship as staff hurriedly lower and secure the metal gangway. I wait in the queue patiently taking big breaths of fresh sea air then follow the man in front who is wearing a white panama hat. He reaches the railings and stands to the side allowing me to go first. I smile my thanks at him and take my first step.

Now that it is time to disembark my stomach lurches and my heart begins to pump. The old feelings of low self-esteem, no confidence, and depressing miserable thoughts fly into my mind.  I can’t do this, I want to shout, this isn’t me. I’m dressed up to look like somebody else.  

My mother’s constant haranguing drones on and on in my ears.

Immediately, my head drops, and I look down. I’d forgotten about my new shoes and I stare at them. They are white with a two-inch heel and a tan toe-covering. They are simply gorgeous, and I smile. Out of my whole transformation it is the shoes that make the biggest difference.

I hear Doctor Jones words in my mind. ‘Step out, Geraldine, you can do this. Walk tall and meet the world right in the eye.’

His words batter out my mother’s drone firmly from my mind. I lift my head up high and place my hand on the rail to make my descent. 

I stride confidently down the first two steps. Out of the corner of my eye I see the man dip his hat.

‘And how,’ he asks, ‘have we been on board for two days and I’ve never met you?’  

My heart soars and I stifle down a giggle. ‘Ah, I’ve been in hiding,’ I tease and tilt my head to the side.

‘Well let me put that right straight away,’ he says taking my arm and guiding me down to the end of the gangway.

His arm is just the extra reassurance I need, and I happily look forward to my adventure in Rio.

Believe It or Not

by Ella Etienne-Richards

espresso

The smell of fresh country air and the birds singing outside my window was like an injection of exuberance and excitement.  For some reason I had a feeling this day was going to be different than any other. I couldn’t really place a figure on it but I was filled with optimism. Since moving in, I had lazed about for a whole week. Now it was time to get things organized. Jeff was already outside in the back garden pottering around. He was like a kid in a candy store; with all that space he could pursue his hobby to his heart’s content. He wasted no time; he had already started digging up the soil and looking at different gardening magazines. He wanted to design the best garden in Fudge Town. 

His eyes lit up with excitement as he explained his plan for the back yard. “On the far corner of the fence will be all roses in memory of Aunty Dee she was the Rose in our life.”  

I nodded as he looked at me for confirmation or some sort of approval. He had never gotten over his aunt’s passing, it was so sudden. 
 

While he continued to bombard me with his fabulous garden design I was thinking, I really need to clean out the basement. The attic will be a much bigger job but I need to start with the basement first.

As quickly as he came in he was out of the door again with a hot steaming cup of tea. Lisa walked into the room with an "I'm so bored" teenager look written all over her face. In an instant a thought came into my head. It would be great if Lisa would help me to clear the basement. I knew it would take a hell of a lot of convincing or just good old fashion bribery. 

I kissed her good morning as she mumbled something like, “What's good about it?”  

“Everything” I said with gusto.  I would be damned if I allowed her to damper my spirits. Turning into a teenager had dropped a cloud of depression over her. “I have an exciting project in mind and you are going to love it.”  

She rolled her eyes and cocked her head to one side, "What?" she said in a rude tone of voice. 

I continued trying to maintain my excitement. “This is a very old house, I am sure people have left a lot of old antique stuff behind. Stored in the basement waiting to be discovered.”  

“And your point is Mum” she interjected again with sheer insolence. 

“Well I was thinking of cleaning the basement today and I thought we could do it together.”  

“I beg your pardon" she said. 

Never in my wildest dream would I ever be able to speak to my mum like that but I carried on. “Can you imagine the family heirlooms, and God knows what, might be in that basement? We could have a garage sale.” 

She pushed her breakfast plate aside, stood up and started to walk away. 

“Not so fast” I said, “You know that iPhone you wanted? You could use that money to get it.”  She stopped and turned around. Yes, I thought I got her, hook, line and sinker.  Now I need to reel her in. 

She turned around and walked back towards the table with a sheepish smile on her face. “What if there's just pure junk in the basement.” 

 “What if it's not?” I said “We can start straight away, are you in or not?"   “Come on Lee Lee we’ll have fun. I promise you. It will be like old times. Do you remember that time when we cleaned Grandma’s basement and we found all these old dolls hidden in an old trunk.” 

I saw her eyes lit up as she nodded and smiled.”  “Yeah she said that was cool.”  I was so excited, I felt like I was getting my old Lee Lee back. 

Jeff burst through the back door and I almost dropped my cup of coffee. 

"My garden bulbs and seedlings are being delivered today” he announced. “By the way what's the plan for today?” he asked as if trying to motivate us. 

Before I could respond Lisa surprised me and said, “Mum and I are going to clean out the basement.”  

Jeff looked at me in total and utter shock. He obviously didn't expect that response from Lisa. Lately she seemed to spend her life on Face book and bloody Snap chat. 

“I am going to put on my old jeans” she said as she walked out of the room. Before I could even finish my coffee Lisa was back in the kitchen with feather duster, bags and all. “Come on Mum she said what are you waiting for?” 

 “OK” I said “I'm coming, meet you downstairs.”  

 “I am dumbfounded" Jeff said "What's come over her."  

"Nothing to do with me, a change of location and exposure to clean countryside air can have a positive effect on anyone" I said, lying through my teeth. 

"Whatever you did I'm glad" he said, “I feel like we've got our old Lee Lee back.” 

I raced upstairs took off my pyjamas and put on something more practical. I had to get down there quick before she changed her mind. I was dressed and out of the room like a flash. 

“Be careful down there Jeff shouted” as I almost toppled down the basement stairs in my haste to join Lisa. At first I could not see her but it was a big basement with a lot of stuff so I knew she was there somewhere.  

“I'm here" I shouted, and I heard a horrible grunt in response. I giggled thinking of the days when she was much younger and would always try to scare me. We had so much fun, how I miss those days. Becoming a teenager had really changed my Lee Lee. 

There were so many boxes, I was curious to discover what was in all these boxes, left behind and stored away. I did not know where to start. “Lee, Lee why don’t we start over here together.”  

In response I heard a muffled sound coming from the far corner of the room. I was a little curious and thought; if she wants to scare me I will teach her a lesson and really make her jump. Slowly and quietly I walked over ready to pounce.

To my horror I saw Lisa slumped between two boxes, with her hands clutching her throat, "What on earth Lee Lee" I screamed. She looked like she was choking. I immediately grabbed her and pulled her towards me. "What's wrong" I said as she collapsed into my arms and whispered hoarsely, “Get me out of here Mum, get me out of here?”  She coughed and spluttered and I immediately patted her back because I thought maybe she had swallowed something by accident.

“Are you alright” I said trying to look closer at her. She suddenly wheeled around pushed my arms away and flew up the steps like a bat out of hell. Confused, I chased up the steps after her to find out what in God's name was going on. I got to the top of the stairs as she sprinted across kitchen and into the backyard into father's arms. I pushed my way through the swinging back door and joined them in the backyard. 

Jeff looked at me, bewildered expecting an explanation. "Eleona!" what in God’s name is going on with you two?" he exclaimed angrily. Maybe he thought we had one of our heated arguments again. 

“Calm down and let her explain," I said. "Tell us Lee Lee, what’s the matter?"  

“Oh my God Mum” she said “I almost died down there” She raised her voice almost wailing “Mum something tried to kill me. I could not breathe I was trying to call you but I could not get any words out. I could feel a hand suffocating me” 

"Oh my God" I said “Did you see anyone? It sounds very strange to me". 

“Dad you’ve got to believe me, there's something down there, something awful, something evil. I don’t know what it is but I am not staying here one day longer. I am going to Gran’s.”  

“Now, Now” Jeff said, “Let’s calm down. Let’s not start making any hasty decisions .There might be all sorts of things down there, it could be anything. Did you see or hear anything Eleanor.”  

“Well I did hear some sort of a grunt but I just thought Lisa was making silly noises."  

“That explains it” Jeff said “There must be some sort of wild animal down there.  I will get my gun and get to the bottom of this.”  

“No Dad Lisa pleaded you can't go down there it’s dangerous, this is no joke.” 

“Nonsense" Jeff grumbled.  "I am not scared of anything not in my own house."  

Crazy thoughts were going through my head, it all seemed very bizarre. 

“Ma’am, ma’am” we all turned around to see a lady next door frantically calling and waving at us over the fence. “What now” I thought. Jeff smiled and waved dismissively in an attempt to get rid of her but she continued waving. 

She looked right at me and beckoned me to come over. “Stop” she said as Jeff started walking towards the door to go back inside. “I need to talk to both of you.” 

Lisa was sitting on a bag of compost in the middle of the garden and she looked like she had just seen a ghost. I took a few steps towards the old woman and Jeff followed me. I smiled and said, “Hello.” 

She did not smile back. She looked straight into my eyes and blurted out. “Your family is in danger, demons, evil, When I saw you move in I prayed it wouldn’t happen again, but they will never leave this place, no one can ever settle here.”

“Sorry Ma'am but I don't believe in ghosts” Jeff said as he grabbed my hands and said “Come on Eleona.” 

I looked back as we walked away and I saw a look of terror written all over the old woman’s face. With pleading eyes she looked at me and said, “Please get out of there while you can.” 

Lisa was getting highly agitated at the thought of her father going down to the basement. “Please Dad; let’s just get out of here.” 

I could feel the hair stand up at the back of my neck but I knew I could not stop Jeff. “Maybe we should call someone.” I said. 

He spun around looked at me and uttered “Who? Ghost busters?” 

I followed him as he dashed into the house and grabbed his gun above the kitchen cabinet. I was consumed with fear as to what we would find down there. With his gardening boots still on he kicked open the basement door and cautiously went down the first few steps. I was about to follow him down when the door swung shut in my face and I heard a blood cuddling scream from Jeff . 

Terrified I desperately tried to kick the door open but it would not budge. 

“Dad, Dad.” Lisa yelled from behind me. 

“Go find help” I shouted as I continued frantically kicking at the door. I heard a few shots being fired then that deep grunt again, this time louder much louder as if coming from the bowels of the earth and I shuddered at the thought at what the hell was making this ghastly noise. 

Suddenly there was a deafening silence and the basement door slowly swung open. For a second I stood frozen to the spot in absolute shock, and then I quickly came to my senses as I heard Lisa coming through the door with one of the neighbours. I turned around as he walked in and said “My husband, he’s down there, I heard shots...  

“Stand back” the man said, “Raphael and Jake is on their way, always trouble with this old house, it should be bulldozed. I would do it myself if I could. Come on Jake” he shouted as two other men joined him, one of them with a big dog. I was about to follow behind them when the younger man said, “Oh no! wait here if he’s down there we’ll bring him up”. 

I didn’t understand what he meant, I was so weak I slumped to the floor near the basement door with Lisa seating near by in a terrible state. 

I could hear them shouting to each other, “Move those boxes Raphael Can you see anything.”  

I could hear boxes being shifted and dropped as I waited for a sign that Jeff was alright. I couldn’t take it any longer. “Stay here Lee Lee I’m going down, I can’t just sit there doing nothing.”  

“No Mum” Lisa said “No.”  

In my rush I skidded down the steps and landed on my bottom but I did not care.  “Jeff" I shouted, “Where are you?”  

“Sorry Ma’am” the taller man called Jake said as he rushed towards me. “He’s nowhere to be found, Gone like all the others.”  

“What do you mean?” I protested, “He has to be there! I saw him go down.” 

“Come on Ma'am we have to leave now.” the two other men joined him as they forcefully guided me back up the steps. “You know, no one has lived here for years. Too many things have happened in this house.” 

“Sinister quite sinister” the shorter gentleman whispered. It’s as if he was afraid something or someone would hear him. “They said it would all be alright after the exorcism and they put the building back on sale. I never believed it myself.” 

“The lady next door warned us if only I had listened, I need to talk to her there must be something we can do” I said desperately. 

“What lady next door?” the man with moustache said. “No one has live next door since old Miss Bertrand died almost twenty years ago.”  

My jaw dropped, everything was getting more and more peculiar. “Are you sure” I said, as I tried to describe her. They looked at each other and shook their heads. 

“OK that's it! Is there somewhere you can go till the police get over here to investigate?” 

Frustrated with their behaviour, I said "Listen my husband went down to the basement so he’s in the basement; where else could he have gone.” 

The taller man gave me a stern look, like a naughty child.  “Ma'am your husband is gone, spirited away. He ain’t the first and until they bulldoze this place he won't be the last. This place is hunted by restless troubled, dark souls. Take your daughter and go, you need to go, lady, while you still can”. His eyes were glazed over and bloodshot. He looked possessed. I was filled with fear and trepidation. 

I grabbed Lisa off the floor where she still sat huddled in a corner rocking back and forth and made my way towards the front door. There was an eerie silence as the men followed behind us almost pushing us out. Maybe I should thank them I thought and I turned around but they were gone, there was no one behind us. I was propelled forward almost lifted off my feet and bounced off the front steps landing in the middle of the lawn in the front yard with Lisa right on top of me. Stunned and mystified I looked up to see the door violently opened and shut three times as if by a strong gust of wind from inside the house.

I flinched as someone tapped me on the shoulder, it was a policeman, and the village vicar was standing right behind him. "Ma’am are you alright?  There was an emergency call from this address."

Dazed and baffled I picked myself off the ground and told the police that my husband was in danger.  

The Vicar looked at me and Lisa and made the sign of the cross and said, “You know, no one has ever made it out of there alive. You are lucky, someone is watching over you”

“Please” I said, “my husband." 

“Ok” he said “Inspector Langley and I will go in and check” The Vicar pulled out a wooden cross and some holy water, pushed the door wide open and they both went in. I stood up to follow but an unseen force from inside the house slammed the door shut right in my face. 

Scared but very angry I grabbed hold of the door handle but Lisa screamed, “Mum Stop! Please don’t leave me on my own.” 

I stepped back pulled Lisa close to me and waited anxiously.  She was visibly shaken and in tears. I tried to reassure her that the policeman and the Vicar would get to the bottom of this and find Dad. She looked up at me in obvious disbelief. “I will call the medics right now just in case Dad is hurt.”

After about what seemed like half an hour or so the police officer, followed by the Vicar came rushing out the door with a look of fear on their faces. 

“There’s no one down there Ma’am the basement is empty” They were both out of breath. 

The police officer did not look well “We need to go. The air in this place is toxic. I had serious trouble breathing. I almost passed out. Thank you Vicar I would not have made it out without you. It felt like someone was literally trying to strangle me.”

Without warning there were loud siren noises and a commotion right across the road at the end of the field. Everything was happening so quickly there were a few curious bystanders and the police had   cordoned off a small area. 

The Vicar rushed across the road shouting,“That will be the body; nothing stays in this house dead or alive.” 

I was in a heightened state of distress. I followed closely behind the Vicar and Inspector Langley. As we crossed the road I saw the body bag and my heart sank but I had to be sure. “Stop” I screamed as I pushed my way through before they zipped up the bag but the face I saw was unrecognizable. A bloody mangled mass of flesh eaten up by some sort of creature or rodent. That definitely was not Jeff. I jumped back horrified, light headed and weak at the knees as the Vicar tried to hold me up.

I had a throbbing headache and as I opened my eyes and looked around Grandma was sitting near my bed. “I am so sorry Eleona” she said, “a paranormal team and one of the best psychics have been to the house. Jeff’s definitely not in the house. They can sense his spirit but he is not with us.” 

“What! But is he alive" I said in a panicked state. 

“Rest, Rest” Grandma said. “It’s an inexplicable phenomenon. We have to wait and see. He may be able to find his way back. It’s never happened before but it’s possible. We have to pray to help him find his way. We’ll have all the family together we’ll have a Novena.” 

I didn’t understand what Grandma was saying. I was convinced that it was all a dream; I was having a horrible nightmare. I would wake up sooner or later and everything, everything will be back to normal.

Aleema

by Dawn Knox

whisky

Previously: A misunderstanding in Santa’s Grotto in the exclusive department store, Honkin & Sniffet, leads to Eddie selling both Brian and Colin for a tidy profit. Since then, Brian has grappled with a tenacious bear cub and a black hole. But what happened to Colin? 

After Brian had been taken away by the Bear family, there had been a few moments of shock, followed by an accusing silence while Gideon and Colin watched Eddie tuck a thick wad of ducat notes in his pocket.

Before Eddie could utter “What?” – despite knowing exactly what was on the minds of his elf and fairy – members of the queue burst into Santa’s Grotto and a fight broke out between an armadillo and a feisty duck. 

“Outta my way!” a hedgehog shouldered past the combatants, spines bristling and tiny fists raised. “Who’s in charge here? Who’s got the monkey fairy dolls?” 

Gideon stepped nimbly sideways and slapped his trotter over Eddie’s beak, whilst trying to hide Colin behind the piles of presents. Unfortunately, he wasn’t nimble enough, and simply succeeded in propelling gifts, elf, fairy and Santa towards the skirmishing parents and howling infants. 

Colin wasn’t sure what happened next because someone seized him by the scruff of the neck, dropped him into a large handbag and snapped the top shut. 

“Who’s in charge here?” he heard the woman with the handbag ask imperiously. 

Colin thought he heard Eddie’s voice – although he couldn’t be sure.

“How much?” the woman shrieked, “Oh, very well. Here you are.”

It soon became clear to Colin that struggling was futile, and that shouting resulted in a mouth full of fluff. The smell of lavender, peppermints and face powder was almost overpowering, but it was the bouncing motion that upset Colin most. He’d been conveyed at high-speed to a waiting car, then dropped in the boot and after several seconds during which doors were slammed and a muffled female voice said “Drive on, Darwin,” the car pulled away. Colin closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn’t be sick. How was he going to escape from this? The woman was obviously under the misapprehension he was a monkey fairy doll and she didn’t sound like a woman who took no for an answer.

He decided to stay calm and pretend to be a doll. There’d be plenty of opportunities to escape if the woman with the aristocratic voice believed he was really a toy.

Some time later, the bag was opened and Colin was tipped out of its depths on to a polished walnut, coffee table. He lay on his back, staring upwards, as if he were a rag doll. 

Judging by the extravagant chandelier and the lofty, ornate ceiling, Colin deduced he was in a very grand house.

“It looks a bit bent, Milady.” A penguin leaned into Colin’s field of view and prodded him with a flipper. 

Keep cool, act like a toy, Colin told himself.

The snout of a large beaver joined the penguin’s beak and peered at Colin through pince-nez. 

“I should hope not, Newton. I paid a small fortune for this fairy. Honestly, the things one does to ensure one’s children have everything at Christmas! The tree’s so tall, I’m not sure they’ll even spot the fairy at the top, but I don’t suppose many of their friends will have a monkey fairy this Christmas. And that, after all, is what Christmas is all about.”

“If you say so, Milady.” 

“It’s disgraceful the toy manufacturers can’t keep up with demand. If I hadn’t got lightning reflexes, one of the riff-raff would have stolen this fairy from under my nose! And the price! It wasn’t even gift-wrapped! I shall have something to say to Sir Hugh Honkin when I next see him. I thought Honkin & Sniffet was a high-class establishment but after the debacle I witnessed today, I despair, really I do. Now, please put it on top of the tree. It’s making the room look untidy.” 

“Yes, Lady Lovelace,” said Newton, reaching forward and seizing Colin round the middle.

Risking a sideways glance at the enormous Christmas tree and its very spiky top, Colin decided he needed a change of plan, even if it meant revealing he wasn’t a doll. He was not going to be impaled on top of a pine tree for anyone. “Excuse me,” he said pushing the butler’s flipper aside, “I’m afraid my guarantee doesn’t cover me for heights. There will be no perching in trees.” 

Lady Lovelace recovered first. She adjusted her pince-nez. “Good gracious, Newton, it’s a talking doll!”

“It seems so, Milady.” 

“I had no idea! But I suppose that’s what happens when one indulges in impulse-buys. Are there any instructions with it?”

“I don’t think so, Milady. Its use is now looking limited if it can’t go on top of the tree. Should I sit it on the mantelpiece with the Christmas cards?”

“Well, be careful, Newton. One of the cards fell off into the fire this morning. One spark on that gauzy tutu and the whole place could go up. But what else can one do with a fairy if it can’t go on top of the tree?”

Colin decided it was time for honesty. 

 “I’m really sorry but I’m afraid this is all a big mistake. I’m not a fairy… so if you could kindly take me back to the shop ̶ “

“Well, if it’s not a fairy, what is it then?” Lady Lovelace asked, her flattened tail beating irritably against the expensive rug.

“I’m a lemur ̶ “ 

“Oh, Milady! I do believe this doll is one of the latest technological innovations! How wonderful!”

“It is? Well, what does it do, Newton?”

“It’s a robot with voice-recognition speaker. I’ve seen robots before, and I’ve seen voice-recognition speakers… but never incorporated together. Although I did read an interesting article once, in Nerdy Monthly ̶ “

“But what does it do, Newton?”

“It recognises people’s voices.”

“To what purpose?”

“Well, I believe you can ask it things such as what the weather’s like, what the time is and well… so on.”

“You obviously know a lot about technology,” said Colin, “but actually, I’m a lemur. Pure and simple. And I want to go home. So, if you’d just be good enough to ̶ “

“Yes, that’s it,” said Newton, “it’s telling us its wake word.” 

“Wake word? What on earth is a wake word? Speak English, Man!”

“Yes, Milady. A wake word is the signal to the voice-recognition speaker to let it know you’re going to ask it something. This unit obviously responds to Aleema. Earlier models had the wake word Alexa but I suppose things have moved on since then.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about Newton. Although I have no doubt you’re going to enlighten me. All I can ask is that it doesn’t take long. The children will be down after their naps shortly and I’d hoped the tree would be finished by then.”

“Yes, Milady, well, it’s probably best if I demonstrate.” He cleared his throat, “Aleema! What is the weather like today?”

Thoughts raced round Colin’s brain. While Lady Lovelace and the butler were asking him stupid questions, at least they weren’t trying to put him on top of the Christmas tree or over the fire. He glanced through the drawing room window at the snow falling steadily outside and feeling rather ridiculous, he said “It’s snowing,” in what he hoped was the sort of way a voice-recognition speaker - whatever that was - might speak. 

“See, Milady!” said Newton excitedly, “It works! Aleema, what will the weather be like tomorrow?”

Colin had no idea, he hadn’t thought to check the weather forecast and it probably wouldn’t have helped him anyway, because he didn’t know where he was. However, if he was going to escape, it was imperative he found out - and this was his chance. 

“Which town would you like to know the weather forecast for?” he asked.

“Well, here, of course, in Treacletart!”

Treacletart! Colin groaned - that was miles from Hummus-on-Sea! There’d be no escape from here tonight, especially not in the snow.

“It will be cold. Zero degrees Celsius,” he said, trying to sound convincing.

“How marvellously clever!” said Lady Lovelace, “But what else can it do other than predict the weather?” 

“I believe it can play music, turn the lights on, tell jokes and all sorts of other things, Milady.”

“How wonderful! Shall I have a go?”

“Certainly, Milady.” 

“Turn…the…lights…on!” she said.

While Colin was wondering if they expected the lights to come on as if by magic, Newton spoke.

“No, Milady, you have to say Aleema first, or it won’t respond.”

“Sometimes, Newton, you are an insufferable clever-clogs.” She cleared her throat, “Aleema! Turn…the…lights…on!”

There was only one thing for it. Colin spotted the switch and swung down off the table, scampered across the expensive rug, clambered on top of a chair and reached up. The elegant, sparkling chandelier suspended from the middle of the ceiling lit up and twinkled. Lady Lovelace clapped her hands together with delight.

“Well, who’d have believed it? I wonder if the Aleema fairy has any particular knowledge of the stock market, Newton.”

Before Colin had a chance to think how he might bluff his way through any financial questions, the double doors into the drawing room flew open and two small beavers tumbled into the room.

“Mater!” 

“Good gracious, children! That is not the way to enter a drawing room! Where is Nanny? Why isn’t she with you?”

The beavers, one with a pink bow on her head and the other dressed in a blue sailor suit looked at each other. 

“She’s a bit tied up, Mater,” said the one with the bow. The beaver in the sailor suit giggled.

“Clarissa and Willoughby! If I find you’ve tied Nanny to the radiator again, I shall be very unhappy.”

“Yes, Mater.” 

“Golly, Mater, what’s that?” Clarissa said pointing at Colin, who was half way back across the floor to the walnut, coffee table, “I’ve never seen a furry fairy before.”

“Is it for the tree?” asked Willoughby, poking Colin.

“No, children, apparently it’s not suitable for the tree ̶ “  

“Can I have it then?” asked Clarissa.

“Why should you have it? I want it,” said Willoughby.

“It’s mine!” said Clarissa grabbing Colin’s wrist.

“Get your hands off! It’s mine!” Willoughby seized Colin’s ankle and pulled. 

“Children! Children! This behaviour is most unseemly. Put the fairy down. You’ll break it.” 

“Watch it!” screamed Colin, “You’ve laddered my tights.”

The young beavers dropped him in surprise. 

“It talks!” 

“Yes, Clarissa,” said Lady Lovelace, “it’s a Voice Ignition Doll,”

“Begging your pardon, Milady but it’s a Voice-Recognition Speaking Robot.”

“All right, Einstein!” said Lady Lovelace irritably, “If you’re such an expert, perhaps you could pick it up and check it still works.”

“Yes, Milady. And I’m Newton, not Einstein. Einstein left last year. I am his replacement.”

“Insufferable! You are simply insufferable.”

“Yes, Milady.” 

Before anyone could react, Clarissa grabbed Colin’s wrist again and dragged him across the rug towards the open door, his bottom bumping against the floor. 

Enough was enough!

“Put me down!” Colin shrieked, “I’m malfunctioning!” 

“There, now see what you’ve done, Clarissa! You’ve broken it! It’ll have to go back to the shop. And I was just about to ask it to play some music…”

“Darned if I know why you want to go back to your so-called friends,” said Cook refilling Colin’s sherry glass, “Have another sausage roll.” She placed three on his plate. “I ask you! What kind of mongrel would sell such a cute little monkey?”

“Well, I’m not actually a m ̶ “ 

“Yes, yes,” said Cook, “I know you’re really a voice-repetition speaker but below stairs, in the kitchen, I don’t really hold with new technology and I’m going to treat you like you’re a real person. Mince pie?”

Colin nodded and smiled through a mouthful of sausage roll. He’d tried to explain about Santa’s Grotto and Eddie selling him as a monkey fairy doll but Cook was a simple soul and when Newton had brought him down to the kitchen out of the way of young Willoughby and Clarissa, so that he could be returned to Honkin & Sniffet, she’d accepted that story too. 

“That’s what I like to see - a healthy appetite.” She placed several mince pies on a plate and added a generous dollop of brandy butter. 

“Like it or not, I’m afraid you’re not going to get back to your friends this side of Christmas. Her Ladyship’s first trip to Hummus-on-Sea will be for the January sales and I expect she’ll return you to the shop then. Where exactly are you broken? You seem to be working okay to me.” 

There was no point explaining he wasn’t really broken, it was best to humour her and keep eating. He shook his wrist limply.

“Oh, you poor dear! Still, I’ve got something that’ll sort that out and take away the disappointment of not being able to get home. How would you like a drop of the finest whisky this side of the Meringue Mountains?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Colin.

Links to previous stories in The Macaroon Chronicles series

1. The Macaroon Chronicles Prologue and the Three Wise Monkeys - http://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/01/the-macaroon-chronicles-prologue-and.html?m=0
2. #ChickenInCustard - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/02/chickenincustard.html
3. The Fine Print - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/02/the-fine-print.html
4. French for Cheese - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/02/french-for-cheese.html
5. Porkies and Espiggy-onage (Lies and Spies) – https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/03/porkies-and-espiggy-onage-lies-and-spies.html
6. Nearly Death by Chocolate - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/03/nearly-death-by-chocolate.html
7. Waxing Lyrical - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/03/waxing-lyrical.html
8. Seduced by Zeros - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/04/seduced-by-zeros.ht
9. Soup-Legs - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/04/soup-legs.html
10. The Year’s Most Popular Christmas Toy - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/04/the-years-most-popular-christmas-toy.html
11. Holey Night - https://cafelitcreativecafe.blogspot.com/2020/05/holey-night.html

About the author

Dawn’s latest book is ’The Basilwade Chronicles’ published by Chapeltown Books. She enjoys writing in different genres and has had romances, speculative fiction, sci-fi, humorous and women’s fiction published in magazines, anthologies and books. Dawn has also had two plays about World War One performed internationally. You can follow her here on https://dawnknox.com, Facebook here DawnKnoxWriter or on Twitter here https://twitter.com/SunriseCalls 

Mask

by Elaine Barnard

coffee 

  I’m a black man on a white cul-de-sac. Neighbors should be neighborly but they’re not. They should bring newcomers cake and coffee but they don’t. Well, maybe they did but I never got any when I moved in a year ago. No Welcome Wagon for me. Not that I missed it. Coffee and cake have never been my thing. However, I did expect my neighbors to wave instead of ignoring me like I didn’t really live here, like I was an interloper or maybe worse, invisible.

                I’m a single guy. If I had kids the barrier would have to break down. Kids are color blind until their parents teach them otherwise. So I guess I looked suspicious to begin with. I noticed the young mothers whisking their kids indoors as soon as I opened my garage. I’d wave and maybe say, “Hi, how are you?” or something equally inane. They looked embarrassed, flustered, unable to do anything but rush inside or walk faster.

                I don’t wear a beard or moustache, no tattoos or anything that makes me look dangerous. I scrub my face every morning to give it that baby shine I still have even though I’m nearing thirty. But now with this pandemic I wear a mask when I’m jogging to protect myself from the virus. This has caused an even greater problem. I try to buy groceries and the manager alerts Security. Didn’t black

bandits always wear masks in the movies, on television or in comics? So they are wary of me, stopping me outside before allowing me to enter. I lower my mask, “Look,” I say, “I just want some salsa, guacamole and a few chips.”

                Security eyes me. “Wait here,” he says.  I wait. Droplets of sweat dampen the mask.

Security returns. “Sorry, but them bean eaters were here earlier. Bought the place out. Not even a tortilla to sell ya.”

As I turn to leave a masked blonde emerges. Her kids munch big bags of chips and salsa. I keep my six foot distance. Next time I’ll phone in early for groceries. They promise to deliver.

About the author  

Elaine Barnard's collection of stories, The Emperor of Nuts: Intersections Across Cultures was recently published by New Meridian Arts and noted as a unique book on the Snowflakes in a Blizzard website. Last year she won first place in the Strands International Flash Fiction competition.She has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best small Fiction. She was a finalist for Best of the Net. She received her MFA from the University of California, Irvine and her BA from the University of Washington, Seattle