Q - Quest - #AtoZChallenge

Before stepping into the hot sun, Alec surveyed the scene before him. The key could be anywhere here, but he had no more specifics.

Alec checked under every rock that appeared to have disturbed soil around it. He frantically checked around every tree and scanned the ground before him. He knew time was running out and he tried not to panic. All would be lost if he could not complete his mission quickly.

He could hear the grumbling growing on the other side of the wall. He knew holding off their wrath meant securing the key before all was ruined.

Feeling the heat beating down on his head, Alec dropped to his knees and cursed the sky. Lowering his head, he saw a slight glint of sunlight reflect off the floor of a structure before him. He dove after it and gave a cry of triumph. It was the lost key. All was saved.

Alec ran to the wall to declare his victory.

"Hey, guys. I found the key to the freezer. Bruno had taken it to his doghouse, but looks like he chewed your bacon strip key chain off. I'm tossing it over the wall. Someone get those beers on ice before more of them get warm. I'll be right over."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is Q for Quest.

Jumbo Prawns, Buffalo & Beer

Last month, Red and I discovered that we would not be able to renew the lease in our house. Our landlords told us they loved us and would like us to stay, but the rent would be going up 25% because of the pool being built.

Now, we would have never taken advantage of that pool, but other tenants might and would be willing to pay for it. So, we opted to move out and find another place. The next day, we found a beautiful home in a very quiet neighborhood. We have been here a month now and absolutely love it.

Large open floor plan

Huge skylight in the dining area

 

Creepy painting over television

We love this house.

We are the same distance from the market as before, but now we are on the other side. We live on a tiny side street, so there is ZERO traffic. This means there is no noise from cars. Just the occasional motorbike. It is so quiet here.

An extra perk we did not expect is our new landlords who live right next door to us. Mom and Dad. We have no idea what their names are, but that is how they asked to be addressed. Neither speaks a word of English, but they just may be the most accommodating people on the planet.

Many times, in the evening, one of them has brought over a silver tray filled with food they made. We never recognize the contents and they can't speak English, so we never know what we are eating. But we do know, it is amazing every time.

Last week, we were invited to their house for a party. We did not know what to expect with this, but we knew there would be food. That's usually all it takes to get me somewhere.

We walked in to find about 40 people (all Vietnamese, we were the only foreigners) already seated at tables piled with food. There were a few more dishes to be brought out and the feasting would begin. We were shown to a table and sat down. None of the people at the table spoke any English, but (despite being guests themselves) immediately set glasses in front of us and filled them with beer.

Noodle dishes, vegetables, fish cake, big plate of squid.
I love the food here.

Soon the invisible cue to start happened and everyone dug in. Except for the old woman sitting next to Red. This woman served everything on the table directly to Red's plate. She pointed out the different sauces to use with which food and then watched as Red sampled each bite. Sometimes Red would try to put something to her lips and the woman would stop her, sprinkle some multi-colored powder on the food and then gesture to eat it. It was fun to watch.

As the food on the plates began to be sucked down my gullet disappear, more food was brought out.

This was the good stuff. Fried prawns, baby water buffalo, duck.
Pork, whole crab, more squid.
We have the meats.

It was great. I stuffed myself and then drank way too much because every local wanted to come over and share a toast with the Americans. And there were a lot of toasts.

I had a glass of beer with every individual here.

As the crowd started to disperse, we got to talk with the landlord's daughter. She speaks decent English. She explained what this party was for.

When we first moved to Vietnam, we learned that there is little significance put on birthdays. In fact, most of the people of the older generations don't even know when their birthdays are or what their actual age is. However, the anniversary of someone's death is commemmorated. This party was to honor the deaths of our landlord's grandparents. This party happens every year.

She informed us that her parents host three "death day" parties annually. This one was the smallest of the three. The big one, to honor our landlord's parents, usually has over 200 people in attendance. Since they died more recently, more people knew them. Thus, the higher numbers.

I better get to work building my alcohol tolerance.

O is for Obnoxious

As a participant in the A to Z Blogging Challenge, I will be making my way through the alphabet all month.

---

I am not really sure that I am obnoxious. I am definitely the loudest. I have something rattling around in my brain that tells me if I am in the room, I must be completely sure that everyone else in the room is aware that I am there. It can't be helped. I must be noticed. I enjoy it, but it's not always a good thing.

This trait is at its worst on the occasions that I am in the same room as my brothers Kyle and Trevor. Solely because they have the same affliction trait. If we are in the same room, it unconsciously becomes a competition to see who is being given the most attention. Sometimes one of them wins and sometimes I do, but I try not to let it be them very often.

Winning the attention of the room is done using several strategies. Sometimes, it just involves the lazy tactic of being extremely loud. This is found to be annoying by the other people in the room very quickly. The next tactic is to be the strangest in the room or the person who says the most ridiculous things. This is typically found to be more entertaining for a while.

PERSON TRYING TO CONVERSE: Beautiful day, isn't it?

ME: It is. It's said that the sky looked exactly like this on the day of the Pearl Harbor attack. If you believe that actually happened.

Kyle tends to be more physical and will climb up in the rafters to look at a spider while I try to dazzle the crowd with wit. Trevor regales the crowd with amazing stories. We are all masters at sarcasm.

Another tactic is to just be shocking. Running naked into a room to tackle someone deeply immersed into a serious conversation will guarantee that you will be remembered long after the party has come to a close.

---

We are available for parties.

Call Me Maybe

I haven't written about it on here, but for the last two months, I've been broke. I mean broke, broke. As in I don't have two pennies to rub together broke. That's actually an exaggeration. I do have two pennies and a dime, but what can you do with twelve cents and what would rubbing them together do for me? I have had to call all my accounts (cell phone, internet, power, etc.) to make payment arrangements or deferments just to keep my services on.

Due to not having any money, Kirsten and I have not been out to eat since early August. It's much cheaper to eat at home, but Kirsten is convinced that a prolonged diet of frozen pizza and burritos is somehow unhealthy. I retorted with the fact that not drinking the sugary sodas for six weeks should outweigh her concerns. She still doesn't agree.

I pulled out my wallet to show her how empty it was. When I held it upside down to prove my point, a slip of paper drifted out. Kirsten had already walked out of the room, so she didn't get to see this fortune cookie fortune:

An embarrassing situation? I wonder what it will be. Plus, I have to wonder if I am the best person to call in the event of something embarrassing happening. I like to think that I'm a decent guy. I try to be helpful when I can. I would even be helpful in an embarrassing situation, but would someone really want to call me. I spend a considerable amount of time making fun of people and will laugh at an embarrassed person faster than Oprah can grab the last doughnut. If you are caught in an embarrassing situation, I will probably remind you about it for the rest of your life or until you cut me out of your circle of friends. Whichever comes first.

When my buddy Adam was bleeding out of his groin or was inflicted with a male yeast infection, I wasn't exactly sensitive to how embarrassing this might be for him. In fact, the whole experience ended up in my blog (be sure to click the links; they are well worth the read). However, I guess it could be said that I was helpful. Not sympathetic (or even nice), but helpful.

I can remember one time when I didn't take advantage of someone's embarrassing situation. I was about 20 years old and at a party out in the middle of nowhere. It was one of those country parties where a keg is consumed in the middle of a field by a few dozen people not old enough to drink in bars. As I am talking with a group of friends, I feel a tap on the shoulder. I turn around to find the younger sister of one of my friends.

Names are changed to prove that I can be discreet.
KELLY: I need you to come with me.
ME: Where we going?
KELLY: I can't tell you.
ME: Why not?
KELLY: Just follow me.

Always up for an adventure, I followed. We walked out into the field away from the party. I asked where we were going and she advised me to just keep walking. After a few minutes, we had gone far enough that we couldn't even see the party.

ME: Hey, where are we going?
KELLY: Remember that girl that came here with me tonight?
ME: I think. Mary, right?
KELLY: Marion. She needs your help.
ME: Help with what?
KELLY: She's stuck.

Kelly explained that they had wandered away from the party to empty their bladders. Being a party in a field, there were surprisingly few bathrooms. This is not an issue for guys or immodest girls, but most girls of the female persuasion tend to get away from the crowd before squatting on the ground. Marion and Kelly had gone for the overkill in making sure no one saw them by walking almost a quarter mile.

When they found a suitable place away from the eyes of anyone at the party, they dropped their pants to do what they came to do. Kelly said she was mid-stream when she heard Marion fall over and scream. Marion had lost her balance and fallen back into a briar patch. Kelly said she tried to help her out, but the vines were so thick, she couldn't get her out by herself.

About this time, I hear a timid voice call out, "Kelly, is that you?" She answers and we move toward the voice, but Marion yells out from the darkness, "STOP! Kelly, who did you bring?"

KELLY: I brought Brett.
MARION: What? You brought a guy? I wanted a girl.
KELLY: You said to get someone you didn't know.
MARION: I meant a girl I didn't know.
KELLY: You didn't say that.
ME: Why does it matter?
MARION: (crying) Because I don't have any pants on!
ME: OH!

I hadn't really thought about it, but it made sense. She had pulled down her pants before falling in and getting stuck.

Kelly offered to go back and get someone else, but she had been gone over 20 minutes to get me. Marion said she couldn't wait that long again. She reluctantly agreed to accept my help. As I start moving toward her voice she yells, "Don't look!"

Ever the gentleman (believe it or not), I kept my eyes to the ground as I approached. When I reached her, she made me promise to keep my eyes closed. I agreed and slowly leaned in to see feel what we working with. I had trouble even getting close to her because of the thickness of the briars. Every direction I turned caused them to stick in my arms, clothes and face. I quickly realized the 'closed eye thing' wasn't going to work.

I leaned in real close and opened my eyes to look right into her face and explained that if she actually wanted out of here, she would have to let me use my sight to both keep myself untangled and find where she was stuck. She hung her head, but agreed. I placed my jacket over her lap so she wouldn't feel as exposed.

Looking at the situation, I could see that she had really struggled to get out. Her pants were almost completely removed. Her shirt had caught as she fell and was pulled up around her shoulders. She had managed to pull the front down, but the back was behind her head.

I had Kelly hold some of the briars back while I tried to pull her shirt free of the thorns. She was deep enough into the bush that it was a hopeless task. It would immediately catch on others and it could not be slid down her back due to the thorns stuck in her. The same was true for the pants.

Both the girls thought that if Kelly pulled back some of the briars branches I might be able to just pull her out. I doubted it would work, but we gave it a try. Marion yelled after moving only a few inches. She was hooked by those briars all down her back, her legs, and part of her arms.

I started on her arms first. I slowly pulled the branches and when we discovered resistance, I would take care of that thorn before moving to the next one. I eventually freed both of her arms and had broken off the offending branches so they could not grab her again.

Once I got her legs free, I tried to lift her out again. The resulting pain was the same as before. She was still stuck all along her backside. Once again, I started on her legs, but this time I had to feel around to find where she was stuck. As I got past her knees, she blurted out, "Watch your hands!"

"SERIOUSLY! I understand your yearning for modesty, but I don't see any other solution here. Do you want the thorns out of your flesh or not?"

She lowered her eyes and said, "Get it over with."

She quietly endured the displeasure of a stranger running his hands over her skin. Once we freed her legs, she was able to lift herself enough for me to pull the thorns out of her butt. Of course, due to the restricted space we were in, I had to feel around to find them. This is not a joke. It's what I had to do.

They were huge and some of them broke off.

She had been sitting on them for almost an hour at this point and they were dug in pretty deep. Plus, like the other thorns, they couldn't just be pulled out. They were dug in at a variety of angles and had to be pulled out in the right direction. So, after thirty minutes of me running my hands all over her body (including unmentionable places; the thorns did not discriminate), she was finally free.

After clearing the loose thorns out of her clothes, she was dressed again. Handing me my jacket, she looked at me and opened her mouth to say something. She then stopped, dropped her eyes and walked back to the party. I hung back for several minutes to allow the gap between us she so obviously wanted. Kelly later told me that Marion was very grateful for what I had done and said that I did well to try and make her feel comfortable, but she was too embarrassed to talk to me.

Twenty years later, I still occasionally run into her and she always reacts the same way when she sees me. She drops her eyes to the ground and slowly walks away.

So, while I may not be the guy to call in an embarrassing situation today, I used to be the guy to call. I was gentle, discreet and respectful. The perfect response for dealing with someone in such a compromising position, but it's not nearly as fun.

(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party)

In my last post (read about it here), I told a few stories from my teenage years concerning events that happened when my parents were not at home. In that post, I briefly mentioned a party that I would cover in my next post. This is that post.

This was not the first time we had been left home alone. We were plenty old enough to not need constant supervision. Although, that may be debatable after reading this post and the last one. They would occasionally have an overnight somewhere, but this time they would be gone for several days. I don't remember where they were going or why we weren't going with them.

They left in the middle of the week and our small group of friends were at the house almost every night. By small group, I do mean a small group. It was other five guys that we spent most of our waking hours with anyway. Most of the nights that week were spent hanging out in the yard, drinking beer and just goofing off. There were a few mishaps, but that is to be expected with eight unsupervised teenagers.

When the weekend finally came, there was a party about a half mile from our house in an open field. For you folks raised in the city, this is pretty commonplace for country youth wanting to have a party.

There is a reason for the song.
Thank you, Toby Keith.

1. Locate a large open area with little to no traffic and away from any roads.
2. Spread news about location.
3. Buy a keg
4. Buy several hundred SOLO cups (very important)
5. Hire two big guys to stand by keg and charge $5 to drink for the night
6. Make a buttload of money

Since it was so close to our house and we knew that there was a reasonable chance of consuming massive amounts of alcohol, we decided to walk. Normally, when parties were held at this location, walking would be out of the question, because stumbling into the yard when your parents are home rarely ends well. For my brother Trevor, drinking and returning home at all was usually a bad idea. On one occasion, his friends pulled into the driveway, dumped him in the front yard and sped off before their car could be identified. They did their job as friends to get him home safely, but weren't about to personally look my parents in the eyes and hand him over.

Apparently, these kids don't understand the
significance of the red SOLO cups.

We arrived at the party to over a hundred other teens exercising their right to have their rights removed if they caught. It was a great time. Dozens of pick up trucks with their tailgates down to sit on and visit with your friends. Various cars had their doors open and stereos playing. Some cars were parked on the perimeter facing in with their headlights on to give light. It was your typical teenage redneck country party. We were having a blast and were much more carefree than usual because we didn't have to worry about driving or sobering up before heading home.

Things changed about eleven o'clock when it started raining. Since we were out in an open field, there was no shelter. Once everyone realized it wasn't going to let up, that was the end of the party. As everyone was driving out along the lone tractor lane that accessed the field, several cars stopped to offer us rides. A few, realizing the irony of us walking intoxicated back to our house, learned of our parents being out of town. Word spread through the crowd pretty quickly. After accepting one of the offered rides, I was dropped off at my house to discover that about 30 people were already there. Luckily, one of those people was the owner of the keg, so the party continued.

As much fun as we were having, we were very much aware of the fact that this was happening in my parents' home and we did our best to protect it, short of asking everyone to leave.

• I recognized the queasy look on a girl's face in time to grab a large mixing bowl and catch the noxious fluids flowing from her stomach, thus saving the carpet.
• We made people pay attention to where they put their drinks to prevent them from spilling. Plus, we didn't need any rogue evidence being left behind to be discovered later.
• A girl decided she needed a bath and passed out in the tub in our only bathroom. Trying to be a gentleman, I declined to go in when she wouldn't answer (most bathers are naked), but was worried she would drown. I finally got one of her friends to check on her. She was out cold and I had to go in anyway to help get her now slippery body out of the tub.
• We kept the vacuum handy to take care of spilled ashtrays and various other messes.

It was a very stressful evening, but we felt we had a handle on it. The sun was just started to peek over the horizon about the time the revelry was coming to an end. People were passed out in various states of undress all over the living room and kitchen. I collapsed in a chair and quickly fell asleep.

A few hours later, I was snapped awake by a knocking on the door. The bright sun stung my eyes and I carefully stepped over the bodies still littering the floor. I tripped over a pair of pants and was wondering what they were doing there. I looked around the room and noticed that a few people had lost a portion of their clothing over the course of the night, including one girl that was clothed in only a sock. There were several other people in their underwear and a few girls that were topless. Whether these people had disrobed voluntarily or been pranked by someone in their drunken stupors was beyond me, but the person at the door knocked again, so I continued my journey across the living room.

I opened the door to two smiling faces who asked if they could have a moment of my time to tell me about Jesus. They were the Jehovah's Witnesses that had been canvasing our area for the last couple of weeks.

Under normal circumstances, I would have turned them away. However, I was suddenly acutely aware of the condition of the room I was standing in and despite my alcohol-induced haze and wanging headache, I love to watch people squirm when uncomfortable, so I invited them in.

I stepped back so they could come inside and waited as their eyes adjusted to the light. The toothy smiles vanished as they scanned the room. One of them started to turn back toward the door and quickly decided against it. He slowly began to smile again while the other one still stood with his mouth hanging open.

The smiling one asked, "Would there be a better time to come back?"

I waved my hand and replied, "No. I'm not doing anything right now. You caught me on a good day. Let's go to the kitchen. Would you like some coffee? Oh, watch your step."

The three of us started working our way through the room stepping over half naked teens. I bent down to pick up a bra, "Sorry. The house is a bit of a mess."

As I held up the bra, the one who still wasn't smiling, but had started to sweat profusely, took a quick step back onto the leg of the naked girl. She shouted an obscenity and punched his foot. "Watch where you're going, idiot!"

He immediately ran out of the house leaving the smiling one behind. As soon he got outside, I could hear him crying.

"Is something wrong with him?" I asked in my best confused, innocent voice.

He grinned bigger than ever and said, "He must have forgotten something in the car." He handed me a copy of the Watchtower and said he would go check on him. He slowly turned and chose his steps very carefully over the sleeping drunks. Once outside, he helped his sobbing partner into the car and they sped off.

I carefully found my way back to the chair and fell asleep smiling, knowing the party was a success.