Potential – Garrett's Polished Diamonds

Lybert the Lemon

Once upon a time there was a little lemon named Lybert. He lived in a supermarket with his relatives who had come from the same tree.

There were all kinds of fruit and vegetables displayed in the supermarket, but there were only a few lemons. People came into the fruit market everyday, but few of them ever bought lemons.

Lybert was unhappy. “Why do so few people like us?” he wondered. “Maybe it’s because we are bitter.”

He became more sour and bitter than he normally would be. “I have had enough. I am going to become something else instead!”

Carefully, Lybert rolled himself over the edge of the display counter and found himself among the yellow bell peppers. Oh how beautiful they looked with their yellow, shiny skins. No wonder people liked them. They really had something to be spicy and puffed up about.

When Lybert asked them what made them so popular, they just shook their seeds and rolled their eyes.

“Don’t you know we have sunshine locked up inside us? What a silly lemon. You don’t know anything,” they jeered.

That made Lybert feel really embarrassed for asking.

“Oh I wish I was as smart and beautiful as a pepper,” moaned Lybert. He did everything he could do to look like a pepper. He polished his skin until is shone and he sucked in his breath until his cheeks puffed out. He sat there for so long pretending to be a yellow pepper that he almost fainted.

Then a woman came into the marked with a little boy. He ran around the market knocking things off the shelves. One of the peppers fell to the floor and broke open. Lybert gasped. He could not believe his eyes. There was nothing but seeds inside the pepper! No sunshine. No anything.

“It was all a bluff,” Lybert thought. “They are just thin-skinned, beautiful looking things, filled with air. And they break with the first bump they get.” Lybert determined never, no never, to be a puffy pepper.

The first chance he got, he rolled up to the banana section of the market.

“Oh?” questioned the banana. “Just what do you think you are doing by being with US!?”

The bananas were so stiff and formal that the little lemon barely had the courage to reply. When he did, it came rushing out all at once.

“I don’t want to be a lemon. I want to be just like you. I want to be tall and straight and… and…as yellow as I can be,” he stammered. “I want people to like me and choose me because I am the best yellow banana in the whole world.”

“You can never be like us,” sneered the biggest banana. “Why just look at your tiny size. And you are round! Who ever heard of a round banana? No, sorry. You just don’t have it in you.”

With that, all the bananas turned their shiny yellow backs towards Lybert. They huddled up with their heads together in a bunch, chuckling and laughing.

Lybert just ignored them. He straightened out his little round tummy and tried to poke up his bumpy head so he would look taller. He stayed like that for the longest time. But it was so tiring for a lemon to look like a banana.

Just when he thought he could do it no more, a mother and her baby came into the market and stopped at the banana stall. The baby was fussing and unhappy so the mother took a banana from the stack, peeled it and gave her baby a small piece. Lybert’s mouth dropped open in shock.

White! The banana was all white inside. It was only pretending to be yellow by hiding in a yellow skin and making everyone else feel bad because they weren’t yellow.

Lybert tried to tell the other bananas what he thought about them but they all had turned their yellow backs to him and were pretending they didn’t notice they had been caught in their lie.

“Oh!” Lybert said as a tear ran down his thick skin, “I do not want to be banana either.” With all his energy he rolled down to the dairy produce isle to hide.

“Hey! Look what we found,” the surprised eggs were all excited. “An egg pretending he is a lemon! That’s a real crack-up. Where did you get the cool costume?”

“I am a lemon,” Lybert was surprised to hear himself say. But privately he thought, “And I guess I’ll have to be one the rest of my life.”

“Liar, liar. Your shell’s on fire!” They all screamed and pulled the lids down to cover their egg box while they peered, sneered and pointed their little fingers through the slots in the sides.

Lybert was more embarrassed than ever for being a lemon. He looked around the cooler and everything he saw was white. White cream, white eggs, white frozen yogurt, and white ice cream.

“I shall roll into the freezer until I turn white with frost,” he thought. He waited until a customer opened the freezer section and reached inside. Then Lybert tried to squeeze past him, but fell into the fresh fish cooler instead.

Are lemons always this silly?” asked a big cod fish with blue staring eyes who had been watching everything that Lybert had been doing.

“What do you mean?” shivered Lybert.

“Well I watched you try to be a pepper because you thought they were having more fun than you. Truth is they are so thin-skinned and hollow that they were jealous because you have more sunshine in you than they ever could have.”

“Then you tried to be a banana because you thought they were stronger, smarter and more yellow than you. But they are just soft, white mush inside. Would you really want to be as spongy and pulpy as they are?”

The fish continued his cold commentary. “And why would you want to be white like those eggheads? Didn’t you know deep down inside they are yellow too? The just don’t have the courage to come out and say it.”

Before he could even think about an answer, Lybert felt a big hand grab him and pull him out of the cooler. It was the market manager. “Who put this lemon in the fish cooler?” he called. The he wiped it off in his apron and placed it back with the other lemons.

Lybert thought about his experiences. He didn’t want to be a pepper filled with nothing but pride. He didn’t want to be a soft banana. He didn’t want to be an that egg that hid his true colour. And he most definitely didn’t want to be white. It was too cold.

He thought about what the big cod fish had said for a long time before he asked his relatives.

“What are lemons good for?”

They all looked at Lybert in surprise.

“What are lemons good for? Oh, Lybert, you have so much to learn! Lemons are the most special fruit there is. Did you know that no matter what flavour another fruit has, it will always taste better when you add a bit of lemon?”

“Lemons are used for drinks when nothing else will quench your thirst. Lemons make the best pies that you will ever taste, the finest Chinese food, the tastiest candy and when they are mature, they become sweet.”

Lybert did not hear anything more after the word, “mature.” That’s what he wanted to be! Then he would know everything and not act so silly. Oh, how he longed to be mature.

Late that afternoon everyone was excited to see Monsieur Le Grand Chef come to the market. He was the owner of the finest gourmet restaurant at grandest hotel in the city. Everybody knew Monsieur Le Grand Chef always picked the very best, fresh fruit and vegetables available. When he picked one and used it in his restaurant, each and every fruit that was grown in the same field or in the same orchard would forever be favoured above all others. People everywhere would say, “These are the type of grapes Monsieur Le Grande Chef uses.” Or, “These are the only type of olives that Monsieur Le Grande Chef ever uses.” That would mean your fruit or vegetable would be popular and famous forever.

Lybert had no time for such day-dreaming. His only thoughts were, “How might I become what I was really meant to be?”

Everyone else at the market watched as Monsieur Le Grande Chef walked up and down the rows of vegetable and past the fruit tables over flowing with produce. Every vegetable and fruit stood up straight and tall trying very hard to be noticed.

The water spray had made all the produce look fresh and shiny, but Monsieur La Grande Chef was wise to that trick. He felt the stiffness or pinched the crispness of each variety. He smelt the aroma and checked the colours. But still his cart was empty.

Then he stopped at the lemons. Carefully he picked out one that looked different than the others. When he tested the fruit his eyes squinted, his lip quivered just a tiny bit and then he breathed in with all the breath he could.

“Such a rare lemon, with a strong, sour and bitter balance,” he exclaimed. “It is cool to the touch, spicy like a pepper, and very, very yellow, like the sunshine. Its shape is taller than it is round, yet it has the distinct scent of ocean air. Never have I found such a gem before. Monsieur La Manager, please? Why do you hide these from me for so long?”

Of course, it was Lybert.

And with that, Monsieur La Grande Chef bought all the lemons that were on display.

-Doug Garrett

Jennifer Jane and the Shaggy, Shiptus Sheep Sweaters

Chapter 1

Once upon a time there was little girl who lived in a little town called Dinemosa, in the Great Prairie Country of North America. Her name was Jennifer Jane. She was the town’s only street person.

She had no mother or father and for some unknown reason, her hands shook uncontrollably.

Because people thought that she was very strange, no one would play with her. She lived on free food from the Food Bank every day. But, like a stray dog, no one really wanted to have her come home and live with them. She was simply too filthy and her clothes were all worn out.

Jennifer knew how to read and write but her hands shook so badly she couldn’t hold anything still long enough to read it. When she wrote, the pen went everywhere and no one could understand what she had written. They would laugh and make fun of her.

“Jennifer Jane is shaking again. Jennifer Jane is shaking again,” they would chant until she started to cry and ran away to where they could not find her.

Jennifer felt she had no place to go or be. So she made up a little song that she sang when she felt depressed.

“I have no place to go or be. No one wants to play with me. If I could have a friend or two, I know they’d teach me what to do.”

One day when Jennifer was walking down the main street, she happened to notice the sign over the City Hall doorway which read:“ Dinamosa’s Town Hall – All Welcome.”

“Aha!” said Jennifer to herself. “Surely All must mean me too. So I will go there to live.”

She pushed open the tall glass doors and walked into a spacious office with many people sitting at desks. At first everyone ignored her. No one even looked up to see her or speak to her. So she walked up to the nearest desk where a thin, blonde-haired woman sat filing her nails.

“Excuse me,” Jennifer said in a whispered voice. “I have come in here because it says on the sign that All are welcome. What desk can I sit in and what room can I live in, please?”

The woman looked up at her in surprise. “What are you talking about? Who said you are welcome? You can’t come in here and stay. You shouldn’t even be here at all.”

All the other people in the office were now staring at Jennifer in her thread bare clothes, dirty shoes and long uncombed hair. They all started to laugh.

“Look at that lazy, little girl, would you? She needs a bath and can’t stop fidgeting. Doesn’t she look funny.”

They all laughed and laughed even more until finally Jennifer begged, “Please. I have no place to go or be. No one wants to play with me. If I could have a friend or two, I’m sure they’d tell me what to do.”

“Well,” said the lady, “You certainly won’t find them here. I think I will take you up to the manager’s office, He’ll straighten you out!”

Grabbing Jennifer by the scruff of her neck, she marched her up a flight of stairs to the second floor, down a long hall way, and stopped in front of a big door of a big office, where the word “Manager” was written in very big, black letters on the door.

“Mr. Manager,” she said sarcastically, “This scruffy, little girl just walked in off the street and wants to live in the office. Can you imagine such a thing? I told her you would straighten her out.”

The Manager looked Jennifer over while his fingers held his big black spectacles off his nose. His big black mustache began to wiggle nervously from side to side.

“Please sir,” said Jennifer again. “I have no place to go or be. No one wants to play with me. If I could have a friend or two, I sure they’d teach me what to do.”

The Manager dropped his glasses onto his desk and looked at the blonde lady angrily. “Miss Spinhead, why did you bring her to me when I am so busy? This is probably just a lazy, little girl who needs a bath and can’t stop fidgeting. Do something with her. Like, take her to the General Manager – or anything. Just get her out of my office.”

He quickly hurried them both out the door and slammed it hard behind them.

Miss Spinhead took Jennifer once more by the collar and led her up another long set of stairs to the third floor, down a long corridor where they stopped in front of a big, big office. This one had the words “General Manager” written in big, big black letters on the door.

A skinny man with a bald head looked up from his big, big desk and said in a squeaky voice, “What do you want? Be quick. I’m busy, can’t you see?”

It was very easy to see he was not busy because his desk was clean and he was drawing doodles on the big, big note pad that covered his big, big desk.

“Yes sir,” said Miss Spinhead. “I’m very sorry but I have this messy, little girl here sir. She insists she wants to live in our office.”

“Here in our office?” He jumped right out of his big, big chair. “Miss Spinhead, what are you thinking? No one lives in an office. We only work in offices and this one is mine. Did you tell her that Miss Spinhead? Did you? Well tell her this very minute!”

He waited while Miss Spinhed repeated those very words, mouthing them very slowly in front of Jennifer’s nose.

“Please sir,” started Jennifer. “I have no place to go or…”

Before she could say more, the General Manager cut her off. “Can’t be helped. We can’t help every lazy, little girl, who needs a bath and fidgets, that comes in off the street and wants to live in my office. Take her to the Mayor. He’ll straighten her out.” With that, the skinny, bald man waved them off with his hand.

Miss Spinhead was so angry now that she stamped her feet as she dragged Jennifer up another set of stairs to the fourth floor, down another corridor and stopped in front of another office that was even bigger than the other two. It had the name “Mayor” written in big, big, big letters, blacker than any word Jennifer had ever seen.

Sitting in a big, big, big chair, the mayor was very, very, very unhappy about being disturbed while he read the morning newspaper, “The Dinamosa Daily Diatribe.”

“Mr. Mayor!” Miss Spinhead called as she nearly knocked the door down before opening it. Her voice had become shriller and higher. “I have been to the Manager and I have been to the General Manager and now I am coming to you.”

The Mayor’s big, big, big round face began to frown as she continued. “This lazy, little girl needs a bath and won’t stop fidgeting. And she wants to live in your office with her dirty clothes and messy long hair. If I had my way, I’d put her on an airplane going to the farthest and remotest place that I can buy a ticket for, and dump her there with only French fries and triple cheese burgers to eat for the rest of her life. That would get rid of her for good.”

“Settle down, Miss Spinhead,” said the Mayor in a deep low voice. As his frown got longer, his face got redder, redder and redder. He paced back and forth, his big, big, big cigar dropped ashes all over his clean white carpet. He mumbled to himself out loud, “We can’t have this sort of behaviour here and we can’t have little lazy girls, who don’t wash or comb their hair, come into my office and want to live here. Where would I put them all, I ask you? Hmm…”

Raising his head and his voice he said very loudly, “Take her out of my office and make sure she doesn’t come back. I don’t care what you do with her. Just do it! Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes sir, Mr. Mayor. I understand.” She almost saluted. “I shall take care of it this very minute, sir. Just as you asked.” A nasty smile crept over her face.

Miss Spinhead turned around and headed down the long corridor dragging Jennifer Jane by the arm. Down the flight of steps to the third floor, past the General Managers office, down the flight of stairs leading to the second floor, down long corridor past the Manager’s office, down the hallway to the flight of stairs leading to the first floor, through the large office on the main floor and through the tall glass doors she went without losing any speed.

A taxi was idling in the parking lot outside. The driver jumped as Miss Spinhead ordered, “To the airport right now!”

Miss Spinhead was so happy the Mayor had given her not only the idea but the permission to solve the problem of the lazy, little girl who was dirty and shabby and couldn’t stop fidgeting. She would see to it no one would be bothered by her ever again.

Chapter 2

Toni Maba sat on the dirt floor of his little shack thinking of food. His Mother and Father also sat on the dirt floor and thought of food. That’s what they did almost every day now. A big pot of water boiled on an open stove in the middle of the one room shack. It providing heat and light, but there was not a scrap of food in the pot.

“Toni,” said Father, “If you want to eat today you must go and find some food for yourself because there is no money to buy any. Your Mother cannot knit any more Shiptus sweaters as her hands are old and tired. I cannot work because I can no longer see and cannot afford glasses.”

Toni’s tummy growled and rumbled loudly but he knew it would do no good to complain. If there was to be food today, he would have to get some, but how?

Suddenly he remembered. He had seen a small airplane land at the tiny airport not far from their shack that very morning. No airplanes had landed in the village airport for many years. Maybe they had left something there that could be eaten or that could be sold to get food? He decided to investigate. Quickly, so that his friends would not see and follow him, he left the shack and slipped into the tall grass. The sun was just coming up and he hoped no one else would think of this idea and go there too.

As he arrived at the airport there seemed to be no one around the old metal shed which had been used for the office. But a sudden noise from inside told him he was not alone. Creeping up slowly, he peeked through one of the broken windows. There inside, on an old wooden bench, sat someone Toni had never seen before. She looked very strange. Her blonde hair was dirty, long and messy. Her clothes were all dirty and from the grimy tear stains on her face, he could see she had not had a wash for a long time. Most of all he noticed how cold she was for her hands were shaking very badly.

“Did you come to find food?” asked Toni quietly so as not to frighten her. The little girl turned around surprised at the sound of a human voice. Her eyes opened big and wide. She was too startled to say anything. She looked at the brown, thin face of the boy. He was about her age and she could see he was friendly.

Finally she replied, “Food? No. I already have lots of food. They gave this to me on the plane. But you can have it if you want.” She shoved a big brown potato sack with her foot towards Toni. It was stuffed full of French fried chips and triple cheese burgers.

Toni could hardly believe his eyes. He had only been out searching for an hour and already he had found more food than his family normally ate in a week.

“Thank you. Thank you,“ said Toni. “Please, accept my shaggy sweater. It will keep you warm. If you like, you can come with me while I take this food to my Mother and Father”.

Jennifer had spent so much of her life trying to find anyone to go with that she didn’t know what to say. So she said nothing but followed quietly behind Toni as he dragged the awkward sack.

After a long walk through the tall grass, they came to a small village made up of a number of huts built of wood and straw. They walked towards the one with smoke coming out of its small stove pipe and entered its open door way.

“Mother, Father, I have found food. Also, I have found a new friend!” Jennifer stopped in her tracks when she hear the words “ New Friend.” Did he mean her?

“Come in, come in,” said Toni excitedly. “See Mother, she is cold, so I gave her my old shaggy sweater.”

The Father, who could not see well, could see well enough to know this little person was not from their village – not even from their country.

“Your friend. Where does she come from?” he asked.

“And what is the name of your friend?” asked Mother.

“Is it polite to ask a new friend so many questions?” asked Toni. “She has shared her food with us.”

Then turning to Jennifer he asked, “Do you have a place to live, friend?” He was hoping she would say no.

Jennifer thought of the little song she had sung for years. What a silly song, yet it was true. She had never had any place to go or be, but here was someone asking her to come to their home and stay with them. And he was actually calling her “Friend”. The silent thought went through her mind: “If I can stay here, you can teach me what to do.”

“You can call me Friend, because that is my name,” she said out loud.

“That is all well and good,” interrupted the Father. “But what shall we feed Friend when all the food in the sack is gone? Surely she will have nothing to eat either, just like us.”

“Wait,” said Mother. Quietly she asked, “Friend, do you know how to knit sweaters of shaggy wool from the Shiptus Sheep?”

Jennifer had never heard of Shiptus Sheep before in her life. Still, she immediately replied, “Of course.”

“Ah then, perhaps we will not be as hungry as you suppose, old man.” Reaching behind her, the Mother picked up a large ball of shaggy wool. She slipped it onto two large wooden needles, tying the string to them with a knot. Then she passed the needles to Jennifer. “Please,” she said looking at Friend and then looking at the needles and wool.

Jennifer could not keep them steady but she hung onto the ends as tightly as she could. The needles began to bang together and the wool started to follow the needles. The more nervous she got, the faster her needles and wool moved. Her hands shook faster and faster. To their amazement, the shaking of the needles began to move the wool first in circles and then in a motion that produced knots and stitches. They were not like the stitches the Mother had made, as there were both small and large knots, and small and large holes. They seemed to form a pattern that tied the wool together row after row. In a few minutes the entire ball had been used up. The Mother reached for another ball. This one was a different colour. She tied it to the first and the process started all over again. This continued until they had used up another ball and then, suddenly like magic, a three-foot by five-foot perfect rectangle of knitted shaggy Shiptus Sheep wool sat on the floor at the feet of the astounded Jennifer. The entire Maba family were clapping and laughing.

“It is indeed beautiful,” said Mother after she had stopped laughing. Hesitantly she asked, “But how does one wear such a sweater?”

“I know,” said Toni excitedly. Grabbing the material, he struck his head through a large hole in the center. That let half of the long side to run down his front while the rest of it hung down his back. Looking around he spotted a length of rope, also made from Shiptus wool, and wrapped it around his waist, tying the sweater snugly to his body.

“Oh such a burden to have weak eyes,” moaned the Father. “While you rejoice, I only see only a length of knitted wool. No arms and no neck. Where is the sweater and what causes us to rejoice?”

“It is not one’s eyes that make one blind,” Mother scolded. “What you cannot see is a sweater that will fit anyone, no matter what size. It’s a sweater that can be opened to let in the cool air of the day, yet it can be closed and held tight to the body to keep out the cold air of the night. Ah, how clever your village must be Friend, and how skilled you are to make such sweaters so quickly.”

Jennifer had to smile at these words. But she smiled even more when she realized what had just happened. While everyone was chatting and calling to neighbours outside their shack to come and see what their new friend had done, Jennifer quietly reached over to the stack of balls of wool to see if she could make another one of the rectangular shapes. She was afraid it might simply be a coincidence, too good to be true, and she couldn’t do it twice.

But each ball of wool that she attached to the wooden needles and then held with her shaking hands produced the same result. Now there were 3 such shapes waiting to become new sweaters.

By late afternoon the news had spread to other villages further away and more curious people gathered outside the Maba household to see the miracle of a blonde-haired, strange little girl was performing there. They had even brought their own balls of Shiptus Sheep wool to have her make them into shaggy sweaters of their own. Jennifer was so excited and happy to have so many friends that she just kept knitting all day and well into the evening until everyone at last had gone home.

In the morning when the Maba family awoke there were gifts of food sitting outside their hut. Even more people had gathered during the night and were singing and clapping while they waited for Friend to start knitting again.

Soon the pile of food grew higher as people came, sang and clapped then walked away with big bundles stacked on their heads of the beautifully-coloured, Shaggy sweaters made from the Shiptus Sheep wool.

For the first time in a long while everyone was very, very happy. They were warm at night and cool in the day. And what was even more remarkable was, when the Maba family and Friend realized they had too much food, they gave the extras to all the people they could find who had no food at all.

Before too long, people were coming to buy sweaters from all over the continent. So the Maba family and Friend got rich as well. People in their village soon learned how to make sweaters just like Friend – except they could not make them quite as fast.

In the Maba village things changed a lot. Blankets were now made out of Shiptus wool, as were slippers, jackets, skirts and hats. Mother Maba started a school where she would teach anyone who wanted to learn how to make Shiptus wool products.

The village become a town and Father Maba was elected to be the first mayor. He had more than enough money to buy new glasses. A new Shiptus Products Factory was built. Toni and Friend were made the managers. Schools and houses were now made out of wood or adobe with shiny metal roofs and clean glass windows. And a new big, big airport had been built to bring in all the tourists and take out all the Shiptus products to stores all over the world who were anxious to buy them.

For some unexplained reason, Friend woke up one day to find her hands had stopped shaking. Some people said it was because she had become tired of making sweaters – but she never got tired of making new friends. Nor did she tire of delivering food to those who needed it. Others said it was because she had found people who loved her for being such a generous person. Whatever it was, Friend was loved by everyone. So she settled down in the Maba village and lived a very happy life. As far as I know, she is still living there to this day.

Chapter 3

The Mayor of Dinamosa sat in his big, big, big office smoking a big, big, big cigar. His big, big, big round face got redder, redder and redder as he examined his morning paper, “ The Dinamosa Daily Diatribe.“ He reached for the big, big, big red phone on his big, big, big desk with his fat, fat, fat fingers and spoke to the secretary at the main floor office in a stern, stern, stern voice.

“Miss Spinhead, please tell the General Manager to come to my office at once.” It was only a few moments before a tall skinny man with a bald head came running in, all out of breath and sweating heavily.

“You called for me sir?” His voice was high and squeaky, and he stopped in between each word while he caught his breath.

“What I want to know from you, Mr. General Manager, is why, a small girl, in a small unknown village, in a small country with no name, on a small continent that no one has ever hear of, can come up with a big idea to make a lot of money and make her town famous, when we have been paying you to make us money and make us famous for ten whole years? You haven’t been able to do either!”

The tall man’s face went white and he began to stammer. “Who is this girl and where did she come from?”

This question made the Mayor even angrier because he thought the General Manage was trying to change the subject. His big, big, big cigar began to shed a lot of ashes as he chewed on the end of it. His voice got higher as he began to shout. The veins in his forehead began to bulge as he drew in his breath. He pointed at a picture on the front page of his morning paper which lay on his big, big, big desk with his fat, fat, fat finger.

“How am I supposed to know? That’s your job. Funny thing though, she almost looks like the little street girl who came in here a few years ago to live in my office. But this girl is all clean, with beautiful hair and wears those very trendy, shaggy wool clothes. Could you imagine such our lazy little girl being even a relative?

Hmm… Wait! What if we said to their little girl that our little girl is her long-lost sister? What if we could convinced the girl in Maba that our girl is her lost sister? Perhaps we could bring the Maba girl here and learn how she got so rich?”

Rubbing his hands, and wearing a seldom seen smile on his face, he lowered his voice and quietly whispered, “It’s a long shot but get on it immediately. And get me an answer right away or there will be big, big, big trouble. Do you understand?”

The General Manager understood completely. He turned and ran back down the steps from the fourth floor to his big, big office on the third floor. There he sat in his chair behind the big, big desk. After thinking for a moment, he picked up his big, big phone with his skinny, skinny fingers and spoke to the secretary on the main floor. “Miss Spinhead,” he said in a high squeaky voice, “Please have the Manager come to my office at once.”

In a few moments a man with a greying mustache that twitched nervously, came into the big, big office all out of breath and sweating as he fingering his glasses nervously.

“You called me, sir?” he asked in a voice that stopped in between each word so that he could catch his breath.

“Yes. What I want to know from you, Mr. Manager is the whereabouts of that rude little girl who came into our office from off the street some time ago. She had the silly idea she wanted to live here. Do you know who I mean?”

The man with the dark glasses scratched his head and then began to smile. It took him a few minutes to recall the office uproar it had caused, and how funny the story had become after it was exaggerated just a little here and a little there through its telling and retelling.

“Yes sir. I’m sure I do, sir. But I have no idea what became of her, sir. She simply disappeared into thin air.”

The General Manager was not amused. “I want you to go and find her. This a small town. You shouldn’t have any problem. I want an answer before the end of today. Is that clear? Or there will be big, big trouble.”

The Manager understood perfectly clearly. And he was sure he would find the little girl long before that. He snickered as he thought to himself, “How many lazy, little girls can there be in Dinamosa that need a bath, don’t comb their hair and twitch their hands uncontrollably?”

He turned around and walked down the flight of stairs to the second floor with the big office. He sat down on the big chair behind the big desk and thought about where to begin. In a few minutes he reached for the big red phone on his big desk and called the secretary. “ Miss Spinhead, would you come to my office at once?”

Miss Spinhead who very seldom did anything “at once” appeared in the Manager’s office in record speed.

“You called for me, sir?” she asked all out of breath and sweating from the quick run up the stairs.

“Yes I did. What I want to know from you, Miss Spinhead, is the whereabouts of that strange, little, bratty girl who came in off the street a while ago asking to live in the office. Tell me or you will be in big trouble.”

The question was so unexpected, Miss Spinhead dropped her secretary’s note pad and went pale. She began to shake. It was a long time ago since she had thought about that girl. The last time she had seen her was when she was at the airport. She had purchased a ticket that day ( and a banquet-size order of French fries and triple burgers) from the only airline company that would fly the girl from Dinamosa to a village that wasn’t on any map.And that airline had long since gone out of business. No one, not even she, was supposed to ever discover where the little pesky girl had been sent. She had literally dropped off the end of the world.

“I have no idea who you are talking about Mr. Manager,” Miss Spinhead lied. “And I have no idea where such a silly girl would be even if I did know who she was. You say she wanted to live in our office? Who would be so ridiculous Mr. Manager. Surely you don’t believe that story?”

“How could you let this happen to me? I’ll tell you what I believe. I believe you are lying, Miss Spinhead. And I also believe I should fire you. So good day, Miss Spinhead. Don’t leave anything in your desk when you leave, please.”

Before the manager walked up the stairs to face the General Manager, he tried and tried to think of something he could tell him that he would believe. But he could not. He phoned everyone in the town – and that was not a long list because so few people now lived in Dinamosa. Most had left when the last of the companies had closed and the schools had been forced to shut because of a lack of students.

Finally he walked slowly up the flight of stairs to the third floor to tell the General Manager the bad news. The General Manager took off his dark glasses and wiped his forehead.

“That is terrible, terrible. How could you let this happen to me? You are fired. Don’t leave anything behind in your desk when you leave, please.”

The General Manager sat at his big, big desk trying to think of something he could say to the Mayor that he would believe. But he could not. Finally he walked slowly up to the fourth floor to tell the Mayor the bad news.

The Mayor’s face got redder than it had ever, ever done before. “That is terrible, do you hear? Terrible. How could you let this happen to me? You are fired. Do you understand? Fired. Don’t leave anything in your desk when you leave, please.”

The next day, the Mayor sat in his big, big, big office and stared out the big, big, big window behind his big, big , big desk. He chewed on the end of his big, big, big cigar which twisted and dropped ashes all over his dirty grey carpet. He was the only one in all of the Town Hall Building. He thought to himself, “I have no place to go or be. I have no one to talk to me. I wish I had a friend or two, I’m sure they’d tell me what to do.”

He walked out of his big, big, big office and closed the door. Slowly he went down the long hallway. He went down the flight of stairs to the third floor. He pasted the big, big empty office with General Manager written on the door. Then he went down the next hallway and down the flight of stairs to the second floor.He went down the hallway leading to the Manager’s big empty office. Finally he went down the last flight of stairs to the empty office on the main floor and out through the tall glass doors.

As he wandered down the empty main street he wondered to himself. “Whatever happened to that scrawny, little girl who wanted to live in my office? Good thing I didn’t let her. It would have been the end of everything I have worked for.”

-Doug Garrett

Unfinished

God left the world unfinished, placed man in it unskilled.
He left the voltage in the clouds, the sands with oil filled.
He left the rivers running wild, untamed with power leaping,
The cities waiting to be built, the pregnant forest sleeping.

Raw nature was the gift he gave to strengthen man – not soften,
To sweat man’s brow, to sear his soul, to test and try him often.
What will you find? What will you build? What mystery uncover?
The will of God, the role of man – all waiting to discover.

-Doug Garrett