Today I am doing something different. I am hosting my fellow Holly Lisle classmate and writer-ly colleague’s, Chris Makowski, story on my site today.
Chris does not have a website of his own yet. I am honored he is sharing his story on my blog for July Storytime. I enjoy his stories so much and I know you will too. Bio and participate links at end of this post.
On July 31, 2016, my new site went live and the link to this post on old site change. This is link to old site where comments are still.
MOSHE 4TH by Chris Makowski
The problem wasn’t that Moshe wasn’t smart – he was too damned smart for his own good. And the problem wasn’t that he was lonely – Moshe made all the sort of friends that made people look twice. The problem was that Moshe was clever. And smart, clever people tend to get into trouble.
Take last Independence Day. Moshe and Ben – a good, older troublemaker friend – had gotten it into their heads that what this town needed was a good homemade fireworks display, and seeing as Ben’s grandmother had left him a house in the country with land and nothing else on it, what better place to homebrew some explosives and set up for a rarin’ good time? So, seeing as the water and power were still working – Ben having been sleeping it off now and again there, the better to avoid the law and problems – they decided to up and take over the whole place as a factory to create and improve all sorts of chemistry into things that would go really high and explode really loudly and cause every canine for miles around to dive for cover. When they figured they had plenty, they stored it in the shed – cool enough with a few trees and hadn’t exploded yet – and went on their merry way to do more and sundry damage somewhere else while they plotted to invite everyone they knew for what would be a sure-fire good time, just add alcohol.
But, you see, what Moshe had forgotten and Ben didn’t tell him, was that house – more of a shotgun shack – had been there long enough that the local wildlife, particularly the ants, had discovered the shed and it not being much protected, had taken it onto themselves to inhabit it and make it their own. So when Moshe and Ben came dropping huge canisters of this and that and let’s not forget all the chips and whatever else they could sell at a profit to the thirsty and celebrating, well that was a certain invitation to get involved and start carting it bite by bite under the ground and into their warrens.
Of course, when Ben found out about this, well that meant war, and war with ants meant one thing and one thing only – a nice batch of molten aluminum poured down the front door. Solve the problem and get a nice bit of art out of if you could sell downtown as modern art. So, sure as though could find enough cans and rig up a proper furnace, they found the mound closest to the shed and war was declared.
Problem was, being who they were, logic was not their strong suit. Sure, molten aluminum kills ants dead. It even seals up their tunnels and makes for a nice pretty sculpture when you dig it out and water off the dirt. However, ants aren’t the most sensible of beings and seeing as there was all this nice powder everywhere, they’d taken it onto themselves to take all they could, spread nicely through their entire nest.
All two acres of it.
The resulting explosion threw dirt as far as the school and landed divots all over every street. A few people were overcome with soil pollution, and if you had an open car, well, you needed a car wash and soon. On the plus side, there weren’t any more ants to be had there – still aren’t, even after Moshe and Ben spent the rest of the month cleaning up and putting dirt back where it belonged. Too much sulfur, I’m told. And once they got it into their heads to plant onions, well, those came out the sweetest onions you ever did taste. Got kind of famous they did – Ben’s Antastic Onions. Try one. Guaranteed sweet and ant free.
Chris was born in the Pacific Northwest and lived briefly in Hawaii before being reared in New England. After traveling up and down and back and forth from coast to coast, he was dragged kicking and screaming in the bonds of matrimony to the State of Texas and has been mostly residing there ever since with his wife, son, two neurotic dogs and a possessed cat.
OTHER STORYTIME BLOG HOP PARTICIPATES