The Chronicles of Marr-nia (Short Stories Starring Barbara Marr) by Karen Cantwell Page A
Authors: Karen Cantwell
Tags: Short Stories
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Horace!” Sherman shouted down the hall. “You’ll have your stinkin ’ coffee soon! Don’t go yellin ’ fer , it ‘ cuz I don’t wanna hear yer caterwaulin ’.”
Dog-tired from his grueling walk, Sherman decided to have a sit on the sofa in the living room. Take some weight off his feet for just a few minutes – just while the coffee perked up. As happened on most days, he laid his head down and drifted off.
When Tina came at her usual time, she found a familiar scene – open can of coffee on the counter, a pot percolating furiously over the flame of the single functioning burner left on the stove, and Uncle Sherman asleep on the living room couch.
She took the red can, opened the small door of the pantry, and placed it next to the others that filled the four lined shelves. She counted them. Twenty-one. Twenty-one cans of Folgers. She threw away the empty can, but knew that miraculously, she would find it on the counter when she returned the next day.
After cleaning up, she covered Uncle Sherman with the quilt and waited. When he woke up, she would sit and tell him again. Tell him that Uncle Horace had passed peacefully in his sleep nearly a month ago now. She would ask Uncle Sherman, didn’t he remember? Didn’t he remember finding Horace in bed that morning, and the lovely funeral when they buried him next to Uncle Fred and Aunt Mimi? Didn’t he remember?
Finally, Sherman would shake his head and say that he did. He did remember. He would sit weeping on the couch, his crippled hands cupping his shaking head.
“Why?” he would ask. “Now what’m I gonna do?”
Then he’d curl up in a ball, and sleep again.
Tina would come back. She would come back every day and clean that ancient and tarnished coffee pot. After all, it was his purpose – making coffee for the brother he loved.
Everyone who knew Sherman knew the truth. That those two had been more than brothers – they’d been best friends. And they knew that despite his cranky grumbling, Sherman Foster really had loved Horace all the years that he lived.
Loved him more than a child loves the sight of new falling snow.
Were you entertained?
I hope so! Read more Barbara Marr – buy Take the Monkeys and Run and Citizen Insane today!
Dog-tired from his grueling walk, Sherman decided to have a sit on the sofa in the living room. Take some weight off his feet for just a few minutes – just while the coffee perked up. As happened on most days, he laid his head down and drifted off.
When Tina came at her usual time, she found a familiar scene – open can of coffee on the counter, a pot percolating furiously over the flame of the single functioning burner left on the stove, and Uncle Sherman asleep on the living room couch.
She took the red can, opened the small door of the pantry, and placed it next to the others that filled the four lined shelves. She counted them. Twenty-one. Twenty-one cans of Folgers. She threw away the empty can, but knew that miraculously, she would find it on the counter when she returned the next day.
After cleaning up, she covered Uncle Sherman with the quilt and waited. When he woke up, she would sit and tell him again. Tell him that Uncle Horace had passed peacefully in his sleep nearly a month ago now. She would ask Uncle Sherman, didn’t he remember? Didn’t he remember finding Horace in bed that morning, and the lovely funeral when they buried him next to Uncle Fred and Aunt Mimi? Didn’t he remember?
Finally, Sherman would shake his head and say that he did. He did remember. He would sit weeping on the couch, his crippled hands cupping his shaking head.
“Why?” he would ask. “Now what’m I gonna do?”
Then he’d curl up in a ball, and sleep again.
Tina would come back. She would come back every day and clean that ancient and tarnished coffee pot. After all, it was his purpose – making coffee for the brother he loved.
Everyone who knew Sherman knew the truth. That those two had been more than brothers – they’d been best friends. And they knew that despite his cranky grumbling, Sherman Foster really had loved Horace all the years that he lived.
Loved him more than a child loves the sight of new falling snow.
Were you entertained?
I hope so! Read more Barbara Marr – buy Take the Monkeys and Run and Citizen Insane today!
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