Failure to communicate, part IV

This is part of a four part story, which starts here.



Thin Flannel made a binding pajama hammock and doubled as a bandage for my now bleeding arms, chest, and leg. A skateboarding mohawk-wearing punk across the street showed no interest in assisting me when I called for help, so I decided to change my approach. Really what I needed here was some manners. A neighborhood lady passed underneath me about 30 minutes later, and I decided to try my plan. "Excuse me, what are you doing down there?" I asked, trying to keep a calm, unaffected tone. It worked! She looked up at me, and sort of cocked her head to the side. Now I had her attention, I just had to convince her to find my parents, so they could get me that glass of water (and maybe… down from here). "Hi, my name is Max; would you help me find my parents?" She was starting to realize that I was in trouble, "You… Wait there… DON'T MOVE". She obviously needed further convincing, "I am stuck, I won't move". She suddenly noticed that I was stuck on a barbed wire fence. After a quick interrogation about which apartment to get my parents from, I agreed to this course of action, and she bounded off for help. Soon a small rescue party from the apartment building began erecting ladders in order to assist me. My father was elected "deputy of getting tangled up in razor wire with your crazy son" by the apartment ladder committee, and took his duty seriously. He quickly became as lacerated as I was, but managed to get us both down, which was a big improvement, and his presence prevented the skeletons further efforts to break out of the basement in order to do whatever it was that skeletons did to little boys. Ate us, probably, or maybe just kept us prisoner in their empty rib cages.

Eventually, I was back upstairs, with dressed wounds and washed hands and feet. My garlic was still there, and my parents commented on it when they tucked me in. how had I come by the garlic, and what role did it play in my life. Apparently, getting hung by my pajamas on an anti-theft device was a great way to get attention from adults! Maybe I should do this more oft-- well, maybe if I tried it again I wouldn't survive the skeletons. They knew what I looked like now; I would have to be more careful in the basement for a while.


fin

haiku

force flower open
winter would not have let it
why throw it away