Fleur’s Jaw Fell Slack
the monopolist institution of marriage- mouth turned down
- “Bollocks.”
- stuck on the bottom of the furniture
- — especially for a Hawaiian film festival
Tune in next time part 340 Click Here for Earlier Installments
Fleur’s jaw fell slack. Even slacker than the hallucinogenic coffee had made it. Isolde’s twirling slowed and stopped, then she spun the opposite direction to reel her flimsy clothes back on. None of us in the zeppelin held the monopolist institution of marriage in much regard, but even we hesitate in the face of incest.
Jim stewed on what I’d said, his mouth turned down. After a minute of this, just as I was about to chide him for dereliction of his dirigible-flying duties, he threw me a sour look.
“Bollocks.”
The Britishism, ground under the boot-heel of his accent, sounded like “bawl-lucks.”
“What?” I replied.
“Why would you think Mom’s sister is any less dishonest than she is? It’s just talk.”
He had a good point, and I had no proof. I shrugged, and then repeated the motion several times because it made the infants in my arms giggle.
Isolde hugged herself. “Something makes sense, now. A thing Father used to talk about…”
Fleur barked, “No! That’s private! It’s family business.” Her anger seemed to have brought her lucidity along with it.
But Isolde continued in a keening voice. “He would brag that he knew what kind of gum was stuck on the bottom of the furniture at the White House. And also, he ended so many of his speeches by declaring, ‘I love all of my children, except the triplets.'”
“That’s enough!” Fleur shouted. The babies started crying, and her stern face softened. “Oh, bring the darlings here.”
Because Jim still hadn’t bothered to do anything with the controls, we had been effectively following the seagulls all this time. I looked down at the water and saw what had attracted them: a flotilla of garbage barges. Soon I could smell their cargo.
A flash of color aboard one of the barges caught my eye. Through binoculars I could see that it was a red-and-white striped pavilion tent. People lounged on chaises beside it, under a banner reading, “Hawaiian Film Festival Or Bust!”
They must be unusual fans for a film festival — especially for a Hawaiian film festival — to choose this mode of transportation to reach it. But Fleur’s instruction to follow the gulls made me edgy. Had she known about the scows, about these people?
Jim cleared his throat. “Which way, brother-of-mine?”
bonus points for using them in order