the time is right for a bit of fiction…..
Clock by ~LadyDementorette on deviantART
bawk- bawk- bawk- bawk- on mornings like this, when two poorly insulated 1/2 inch sheets of drywall was all that separated the headboard of his bed from the blaring alarm clock in the adjacent apartment,, james secretly cursed the rental agent that had left he and janie alone in the apartment long enough for janie to slip her panties into her handbag, and him into her, atop the current ‘must have’ for every modern housewife,, the olive green enameled, fully automatic dishwasher…
denying his first impulse,, which was to beat unceasingly on the flimsy paneled wall and yell “shut that damn thing off!!!” at the top of his lungs until someone in apartment 204 was as irritatingly awake at 7:00 am on a saturday morning as he was,, he placated himself by placing one foot in front of the other on the harvest gold shag carpet and setting course for the conveniently located adjoining bathroom instead…
he could tell his janie was already in the kitchen.. the tell tale scents of a new day roused him as he leaned heavily against the wall behind the toilet with one hand and did his best to aim from memory with the other… “how does she do that?? always get up in plenty of time to have the coffee perking and the bacon frying before my feet ever hit the floor?” james wondered as he shuddered, shook, and snapped the elastic waistband of his white jockey style briefs back into place…
the bawk- bawk- bawk- bawk- of the neighbors alarm clock, though still audible,, grew fainter as he stumbled down the hall and nearer the kitchen where it was pleasingly replaced by janie singing along with simon and garfunkle’s,, the boxer, as it emanated from the transistor radio on the kitchen window sill…
“morning baby..” janie chirped,, her back still to him,, busily scrambling the eggs that were soon to magically be transformed into a fluffy denver omelet loaded with thick, creamy, melted, american cheese,, his saturday morning reward for having lived thru yet another week of pop tarts consumed over the steering wheel…
he slipped in behind janie,, her warm, soft, body molding instantly to him.. instinctively he rolled his hips against her,, the smooth white cotton of his briefs gliding effortlessly into place against the softly quilted rayon finish of her pale pink, floor length gown.. he buried his face in the nape of her neck and inhaled deeply, savoring the remnants of jean naté body splash as it intermingled with the musky traces his love had left on her satiny smooth skin the night before…
just as james was exhaling his warm contented breath into the heaven that was his janie’s sweet, soft, shoulder,, the radio, having evidently lost its signal, began broadcasting a shrill screaming “WAAAAAAAAAAA” sound that instantly ended the tender moment and sent james scrambling to grab the hand held transistor from the window sill..
he turned the volume knob into the off position.. nothing.. the “WAAAAAAAAAAA” continued.. “i cant shut it off!!” james screamed in an effort to be heard over the high decibel din, as he struggled to pop the cover off the compartment that housed the 9-volt battery on the backside of the radio.. as he yanked the battery free from the red and black cables that secured it into the battery compartment,, a rush of electricity unlike any he ever imagined could possibly be generated by a single 9-volt battery,, ran up his arm and landed with a thud in his chest…
“we’re losing him!!” the lead EMT on the scene called out in hopes of drowning out the exuberance of the young marine as he correctly solved the word puzzle on tonight’s episode of wheel of fortune and shouted out in knowing victory over the silence of the studio audience,, “the boxer by simon and garfunkle!!” followed by a raucous round of applause… “clear!!” the desperate EMT called out as yet another wave of molten electricity found its way into james’ thoracic cavity..
it hit with such force that it fired the 9 volt battery out of james’ hand as if it had been blasted from the muzzle of a high caliber hand gun, and dropped him immediately unconscious.. he hit the sparkling no wax linoleum floor in the kitchen,, with a clunk ..
“i’m calling it… 7:54 am… what’s the date today anyway?” inquired the sleep deprived, on call emergency room physician… “9-16-08″ retorted the emotionless shift nurse as she flipped the switch and silenced forever the cursed screeching alarm on the heart monitor…
janie cradled james in her arms.. “you scared the shit outta me, baby.. oh my baby.. my sweet baby james… are you all right?? are you all right, baby??? janie asked rapid fire questions,, still in shock over what had just happened.. “what day is it??”
“september..” james said,, slowly and carefully as he rubbed his eyes and tried to think… september,, the 16th,, i think…” james stammered a bit before continuing,, “september, the 16th,,, 1973…”
“good.. good.. oh,, thank god..” said janie her words intermingled with a heartfelt sigh of relief.. “and who’s the president??” she asked almost rhetorically, as that’s what they always asked the people that fell unconscious on emergency…
“richard milhouse nixon” james stated matter of factly,, his voice unwavering at last… in silence,, they remained there for quite some time,, on the cool linoleum floor,, janie slowly rocking james in her arms..
“hey,,” james said, finally breaking the deadening silence, as he wiped the remnant of a tiny teardrop from janie’s cheek,, “i guess they finally shut that god damn alarm clock off,, huh????”
