Suspend credulity. If this was in your library it would be listed under FICTION!
If you liked Mission Impossible, did it upset you that Tom Cruise was jumping from a moving train to moving helicopter in the Channel Tunnel at speeds of close to one hundred miles an hour? How fast to you think you would have to move to jump from an object moving at 80 miles an hour to another object moving at 80 miles an hour away from you without any distance to get a running start. Or how well do you think a human body would react to being launched at eighty miles an hour with enough speed to catch another moving object moving at the same speed. Can we say "squish" boys and girls?
So don't fucking tell me it is not real, it is as real as I make it in the world I create.
A boring man.
"God Damn fucking bees. Where the hell did they come from? We must have hit a nest! Someone get me a damn fly swatter so I can at least hit a few. Shit I have been stung again. Damn it!"
"Franklin, wake up honey, you are having a bad dream. Wake up baby." Donna said.
I finally woke up. We had been together for almost thirty years and I was always having that damn bee dream. Sometimes it was different because there were sometimes other things too, but always the bees. They had changed over the almost thirty years we were together but they were still there.
"Was it the bees again?" Donna asked with a smile.
"Yes. It was the 'Killer Bees'" I said making us both laugh as we remembered the John Belushi skit from Saturday Night Live.
I got up and took a shower because it always helped after one of the more intense dreams. They came almost nightly, had since the accident I had when I was eighteen and right out of high school. I don't remember the accident but I was in a coma for two years and then one day I woke up and decided to go to college. My body was heavily scarred but healed and my mind was ready to go to work. It was as simple as that for me. I don't know where my family was, I don't think I had one, but that did not matter to me either.
It must have been one hell of an accident because I was broken and scarred up pretty good. You could tell I had a lot of surgery. I sure hope I had a good time before the accident because I sure paid one hell of a price. Whatever it was I did I did not want to do it again. Maybe I would be a little less excitable and a little – make that a lot - more cautious. Boring and quiet can be a good thing.
I wanted to be an accountant. I can't remember ever wanting to be an accounting in high school but now I did. I remembered the name of the school but little else about it. The doctors said it was not unusual. I just wanted to have a nice life, a loving family, and house with a pool and wear brown shorts with black sox and brown loafers. Not really, but you know what I mean. Non-descript is what I wanted and what I was.
"Fuck the damn bees are back. They were thick and I just hated to get stung, we all did. 'Anyone got another fly swatter mine is broken?' 'Hey you got one?' 'Damn you got stung too.' 'Someone toss one of those insect bombs out there and see if that will get them away.' 'Damn, damn, damn, that just pissed them off more than ever.' 'Have all of us gotten stung?' 'Where the hell is the bee keeper?' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop, over and over. 'Shit that has to be the largest fly swatter I have ever seen, listen to that noise. I bet that gets rid of the damn fucking bees.'" The dream went on and on.
"Wake up Franklin, wake up. You are having a bad dream." Donna said.
"Donna they are getting worse all the time and I don't know why. I even mentioned them to the doctor but he says I just have an aversion to bees." I told her.
We had a son John, and two daughters, Paula and Billie. Nothing much of consequence happened to us. Our lives were boring.
We met and married at twenty, well I was twenty. Donna was twenty five when we married. Back in the day there were a number of ways to propose but I guess mine was one of the standards.
"You're what?" was what I said.
Even a moron will know that it was in response to the "I'm pregnant" comment of Donna.
We were married in a little church in the town where I was going to school. Everyone she knew was there and at the reception. It was a low key affair. Like me she had no family to speak of and only her friends were there but it was a very happy event.
When I think about it I never went back to my home town. I had moved to go to college, a small Midwestern college with a town attached to it. Donna grew up there and had all of her friends around. It kept her happy so I was happy. We moved into the same housing tract with her old friends and settled into a life of marital bliss.
So at twenty I was married and still going to school. The year was 1973. I'm not sure how it happened but two years later I had a degree in accounting and computer science. Maybe the records were wrong but I had enough units to get my B.A. and a B.S. in only two years. I never bothered to ask, I just got my degree and left. If they made a mistake that was their problem. Why upset the cart with questions?
Then I started my career as an accountant. Not a glamorous accountant that did all those tax and financial wizardry things and were in the news. No I was a bean counter of sorts. I audited things. I was a C.P.A. I went into a place and counted. I was usually alone and I counted alone. If there were two of us we could agree to a figure even if it was wrong. If there were two of us but we counted at different times then there was never the opportunity to agree and the audit would be accurate. It was boring and I loved it. No one fucked with me and I could move at my own speed.
"Fucking God Damn bees again. Where the hell are they all coming from? Stick up your hand and you can feel them hitting it and hard too. Shit one actually drew blood. Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop, over and over. 'Bee keeper, get your ass over here. Can't you do something about these fucking bees?' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. 'Shit you are noisy. No don't help me, fix the others first. We have all been stung pretty bad. The fucking bees will not stop. We must have run into a nest the size of Arizona. Put some of that stuff on the stings. These must be killer bees.' Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. 'What the hell is making that noise?' Is that a bird flapping its wings? Is that were all the noise is coming from? That is one fucking large bird. Is it a pterodactyl? Shit look at that thing. Damn it is shitting all over us. Whop -- Whop -- Whop -- Whop. At least it helps keep the bees away. Damn, stung again! What the fuck kind of bird drops hot shit?"
"Franklin, wake up honey. This one must have been really bad. Take a shower and come back to bed." Donna said.
When they were bad I needed a shower I would sweat like crazy, but only during the last part. My scars hurt too. The people in my dreams, I know there were people but they were ghosts, just shadows and odd shapes moving through. They had no faces, no specific shapes, like smoke or a cloud.
Two years after John was born we had Paula. Now Paula was extra special. She was my princess. I loved John but Paula, well she owned me like her mother did. It would be that way right up until she didn't.
I was crazy about the kids and Donna too. The kids I would just go into their room at night and watch them sleep. At times I would pick them up and just hold them.
Playing you ask? My happiest times were playing with them. Helping them learn to walk, to ride a bike. To throw a baseball and play catch.
Buying frilly little dresses for Paula and Billie. Watching them grow and hoping they would have more than I had and a happy life too.
There were neighborhood barbeques on Saturday where we all get together.
Everyone had known everyone else forever. They grew up together and let me into their little group. I liked them all but there was just something that, well we all have those feelings.
Maybe it was that I knocked Donna up and she had to marry me so fast. We had dated a few times and she was a decent enough fuck. I don't really remember about fucking too much before but she seemed to be OK. But after we got married she did not get into it that much. I got some action but there was no experimentation or rousing nights or days of sex. It just did not happen. I just thought that was the way everyone lived when a woman was pregnant and after the first child. It was not like I did not try but she always told me no. So sex was infrequent but I had my children to keep me happy and a calm life.
I would hear the women talking.
"Donna, Franklin must be the most boring man in the world. How do you put up with him?" I heard one ask.
"Ladies, Franklin is a great husband. Yes he is boring but he is the perfect husband. He does not drink or smoke. He does not gamble and brings his check home every week. He never chases women and he loves me and the kids. Franklin is perfect. And there are always ways to keep myself entertained. After all I have all of you. I have some good news! We might be having a new addition to the family." Donna said.
All the women laughed and giggled and kept up the jokes and good cheer. I was pretty happy myself. Within a month it was Billie she was pregnant with. We had a big party and invited all of our friends.
All of the friends had children about the same age and they tended to congregate together in a pretty close knit group. They had all grown up together and now their kids did too. I was the only new one.
.... There is more of this story ...