Tuesday, August the 9th, 2005

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Through Clenched Teeth

Through clenched teeth, in municipal yet verdant parkland, sprawled on grass, Blodgett recited the alphabet.

“A is for vinegar,” he grunted, “B is for worms, C is for villains swinging from the gallows…”

A little voice inside Blodgett's head told him to stop. He knew he had got it wrong again. He rolled himself down the gentle incline of the grass until he came to rest. Then he sat up and picked flecks of plant-life out of his hair. The sun was shining but the park was almost deserted. He peered across the green towards the choc ice tent, and licked his lips. Would he splash out on a choc ice? Blodgett fumbled in his pockets for change, but they were empty. He wondered if there was anybody in charge of the choc ice tent. Perhaps it, too, was deserted, and the choc ices were there for the taking. It was more likely that there would be some kind of automatic choc ice dispenser, but Blodgett knew he could jimmy it open with his jimmy. He recalled that he had left his jimmy at home, in a cupboard, with his empty yohoort cartons. Blodgett always pronounced “yogurt” as “yohoort”, he was that kind of guy. He lay down again and closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and made yet another attempt at the alphabet.

“A is for spinach, B is for the wildlife of the Great Lakes, C is for Pol Pot…”

It was no use. Clambering to his feet, Blodgett ran across the green to the paddling pool. Though it was the height of summer, the pool had been drained. All the water had been collected in a sort of giant concrete bath located a few feet below ground, inaccessible to anyone who was not employed by the municipal park authorities. Had Blodgett known that several park-keepers were at that very moment enjoying frolics in the subterranean pool, he would have become angry, and had he become angry he would have tilted his head up and stared boldly at the sun, and let forth a stream of execrations, and the sun would have shrivelled up and died, such was the force of Blodgett's inhuman rage.

But Blodgett did not know about the underground paddling pool, nor of the antics taking place down there, so the sun was safe. He turned away and headed for the gate in the fence. He had decided to go to the docks, to watch the arrival and departure of gigantic container ships. It was Wednesday, and he was sure to see big boxes of bananas and bales of flax.