Breakfast Special, #18, “Fore Play”

Fore Play

Coming in from his latest trek up to the roof top where’d he’d ventured for the dual purpose of getting a visual of the snowbound surrounding area and clearing any remaining debris from the chimney top after a large mass of dead leaves and tree bark had landed in the fireplace grate early that morning, Dylan O’Mara listened to Nora talking on the phone while removing his boots and hanging up his coat. Seeing him sit down at the table, Nora hung up the phone and brought him a large mug of hot chocolate. Cupping the mug with chilled hands he tried to read his wife’s expression. “Any word from Sarge yet?”

Nora shook her head after sipping from her own mug. “He hasn’t called. But I did manage to finally get that wing-nut Kozy to answer his phone. Said he talked to Sargent on Saturday and that he’s fine.”

“On Saturday?  That’s nearly a week ago. You mean to tell me that those two charley horses living in the same building haven’t talked to each other even once since? Did that Russkie say why Sarge hasn’t picked up at his end?” Dylan leaned back in his chair and looked at the phone on the kitchen wall. “Dammit, Nora, if Kozy’s phone is working then so is Sarge’s. What’s the deal?”

Not appreciating his tone, Nora glared at Dylan and pointed a warning finger at him.  “Hey, don’t dump your frustration on me, Dyl. I don’t like this silent treatment from Sargent any more than you do. ”

“Sorry, Nora. I swear he does this no call shit because he knows it bugs the hell out of me. And you too, I know. Christ, look at my hands.” Dylan held out his hands flat over the table to show Nora how he was trembling.

Nora reached over and took his large right hand in hers for few moments. “You’re letting him get to you, Dyl. Don’t let him.” She let go of his hand and shook her head. “Don’t let him beat you up this way.”

“You’re right. But it’s easier said than done, Nora. Why can’t Sarge just fall in line with the rest of the boys? Forget I said that. I’m not up for that discussion.” Dylan twirled his mug carefully between his hands then looked up at Nora. “Wait a minute. Did Kozy talk to him at home or on the phone? I bet that wise-ass isn’t picking up his phone because he isn’t there.”

“Where is he then? Where would he call Kozy from? Or Kozy call him at? Hmm? ”

“What else did Kozy say? Anything, Nora?”

She thought hard about what Kozy had said to her earlier. “There was something he went on about.  I couldn’t quite make it out because of all the static on the line. I kept asking him to repeat what he was saying.”

When she didn’t say anything more, Dylan gently knocked his mug against hers. “So? You gonna wait for a month of Sundays to tell me or what?”

“I’m trying to get it straight. Hold on. Let me think.” Nora looked at the window and saw only the snow that had drifted outside to cover three-quarters of it. “I can’t get the words in the right order. You know how it is talking with Kozy. He mixes things up in weird ways.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about. He does that just to mess with your mind. I can play with words too. What were they, Nora?”

His wife looked at him and raised her left eyebrow. “Squealing, girl, pigs, slaughterhouse, indoors, little.  How’s that work for you, Dyl?”

Dylan scratched his head. “Pigs squeal in slaughterhouses. Girl, could be little girl. Like a little girl indoors, maybe inside a slaughterhouse with squealing pigs.”

“Oh, you don’t say. Now tell me, Mr. Smart Guy I-Can-Play-with-Words-Too, just what the hell any of that has to do with our Sargent?”

“It’s obvious, Nora. What’s your problem? He’s indoors in a slaughterhouse with squealing little pigs and a girl. Or squealing pigs and a little girl. Or in a little slaughterhouse with pigs and a girl. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. The important thing is that he’s ‘indoors’.”

“How do you figure that, Dyl?”

Dylan smiled. “Easy. That’s the only word that’s normal. You can’t play around with it.”

“Oh yeah? Huh. What about ‘girl’? How is that not a normal word, as you put it? Hmm?”

“I am not going there with you, Nora. No way.”


Breakfast Special, #19, “One Two Handed to Another”



  1. hobo hippie said,

    August 9, 2013 at 11:19 pm

    very good and most enjoyable!

    • August 10, 2013 at 3:49 am

      Well hello hobo hippie–take the consonance challange, pleeeaaaseeeee.
      That teapot is scary.

  2. slpmartin said,

    August 10, 2013 at 3:45 am

    Oh…I love this side trip into the others trying to figure out what may be going on and what may happen…just love this story! I’m repeating myself aren’t I?

    • August 10, 2013 at 3:48 am

      Am I complaining? I think NOT, charles. 🙂 Wait till we get to the family ‘circle’–O the bros and their wifies— no wonder my id is having a field day.
      Glad you’re ‘happy’. Yep. I am. What do you want your pierogies stuffed with, charles?

  3. Jenell said,

    August 10, 2013 at 3:47 am


  4. lazfreedman said,

    August 10, 2013 at 1:23 pm

    😉 I enjoyed, Thank you Eva!

    • August 12, 2013 at 3:21 am

      Well hello Laz! Thanks for tasting. I know this is a longer meal read for you than usual, but that makes your visit all the more appreciated. 🙂
      How are the barn swallows tonight?

  5. penpusherpen said,

    August 10, 2013 at 2:56 pm

    NO way hose’ 😉 , ah Eva, your story telling is such that a smile is on your face before you know it, ‘cos you’re looking forward to ‘whats happening next’ I was trying word play myself, but I won’t tell you what my mind came up with. no sireee!! 🙂 See ya soon xPenx

    • August 12, 2013 at 3:23 am

      Lady Penxx, you’re such a card. O yes, you should play with those words, that’s why they so flexible.
      one dragon at a time……

  6. lesliepaints said,

    August 13, 2013 at 3:09 pm


    • August 13, 2013 at 3:29 pm

      Oh yeah.
      Because you’re having such a good time, Leslie, I decided to round up the # to 20.

  7. November 19, 2013 at 8:40 pm

    […] Breakfast Special, #18, “Fore Play” […]

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