Page 23 of Rhymes with Metaphor
Joel scraped his throat with a nails-on-a-blackboard sound.Reg winced in empathy, recalling the time he’d had strep throat, the metallic taste that wouldn’t go away, pain flaring every time he breathed, let alone swallowed.No wonder Joel wouldn’t eat.
Reg sighed and went to the kitchen, got out the tub of the gourmet ice cream Martin had bought for the party he was throwing tomorrow, and scooped a generous amount into one of the giant football glasses Martin’s father collected, topped it up with some milk, found the emulsion blender in the back of the cupboard and blended it up.He put in a straw, then he brought the concoction out to the porch.He had to wake Joel with a nudge before he would take it.
He looked so innocent lying there, the glass looking enormous in his hand.He took ten minutes to drink the whole thing.Reg hoped that was more to do with the volume than how much it hurt his throat to swallow.Afterwards, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and Reg took the glass from him.
Martin and Juliet were gone for longer than ten minutes.Long enough for Reg to feel himself dozing off while the air in the porch grew colder.
“Come on, Joel,” said Reg.“Bedtime.”
Reg had to untangle Joel from the bedding, leaving Joel to follow him, while Reg went upstairs and spread the bedding out on Joel’s bed.When he came out a few minutes later, he found that Joel had fallen asleep face down on the stairs.Reg nudged him with his toe, but Joel didn’t respond.
Reg straddled Joel and put his hands gently around his body and lifted him.It was like picking up a roll of carpet.
At that point, Martin and Juliet came in, arms full of bags.
“Did you miss us?”said Martin.
“We bought out their entire stock of Combos,” said Juliet.She noticed Reg picking up Joel.“Be careful of his spleen, Reg.”
“His spleen?”said Reg, still holding Joel, a deadweight in his arms.
“Yes, his spleen could rupture,” said Juliet.“It enlarges when you get mono.”
Reg threw her a dark look.
“You know how spleens are, Reg,” said Martin, who hadn’t got a clue.
“Iambeing careful,” said Reg.“Try and get your feet under you at least, Joel.”
Joel stirred weakly and took some of his weight off Reg.Reg guided him up the stairs to his room, which mainly involved grabbing a handful of Joel’s scrubs at the back of his neck to stop him from falling forwards.
Juliet followed to put Joel to bed, and Reg left her to it.He came downstairs to the kitchen where Martin was putting the root beer in the fridge.
“You were gone long enough,” said Reg.“Where the hell did you go—Timmins?”
“Sorry,” said Martin.“We went to the harbour to watch the sunset.It was lovely.”
“Spare me.I’m off to bed.”
He did go to bed, but he didn’t fall asleep.He kept turning over and over, haunted by a childhood memory of the summer the caterpillar population exploded, and they covered every inch of the sidewalks, and Martin was stamping on them and laughing at Reg trying to pick them up and put them back in the trees.An image of a grey caterpillar obliviously inching its way towards Martin kept popping into his head, until Reg got up, switched on the light and scribbled a few lines to banish the image.Then he turned the light out.More tossing and turning followed, then light on, and more words.Then off again.Then back on again when more lines demanded to be written.Then light off.And so on and so forth, until Reg had a draft of a new poem, and it was four o’clock in the morning.The chair had better tap-dance on her desk for this one.
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The next morning, asthe weather was warm and sunny, Juliet suggested a picnic on the beach.Much to Martin’s annoyance, she insisted on bringing Joel, to which Martin insisted on bringing Reg.They went in separate cars, since Martin’s car wasn’t big enough for all of them plus the fold out lounge chair Juliet insisted on taking so that Joel could lie down.
“Why can’t he just lie on a towel?”Martin muttered as he and Reg carried the cooler from the cottage to his car.
“Perhaps she doesn’t want him to squash his spleen,” said Reg.
It was a fifteen-minute drive to the beach.As the season hadn’t begun, the beach and parking lot were deserted.
They got the folding chairs and picnic blanket out of the car.As they were setting up, Juliet pulled into the lot.
“New Bug won’t need any quilts today,” said Reg.“It’s scorching hot.”
“We could go for a swim,” said Martin.
“Did Juliet pack a bathing suit?”said Reg.
